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WHO would want to have a deaf
baby? This is an important question given the
advancing pace of technology.
It's a question brought into sharp focus by the deaf
lesbian couple who took rigorous steps to ensure
their child -- conceived through donor sperm --
would also be deaf.
Soon, obstetricians will be asking couples -- as
they sit contemplating the image of their deaf
baby via ultrasound -- whether they want to have a
baby who can't hear.
What would we as a community want this couple to
do?
Would we support a decision to abort this baby?
If the parents decide to have the baby, would we
allow them to continue to make decisions about how
they want to raise that child?
Or would we take from parents the right to make
informed decisions because their decision might
not fit our comfortable image
of normality?
That a deaf
couple might want a deaf
baby should be no surprise to anyone.
Don't we all aspire to raise our children within
the culture and values we hold dear?
Don't generations of football-loving parents hope
for a son with the marking power of a Hird, the
ball skills of a McLeod or a Mercuri and the
kicking ability of a Lockett or a Dunstall?
If it's acceptable for those people to aspire to a
child in their chosen image, why should the deaf
community be any different?
It is not our intention here to speak for deaf
people. Their ``voices'' are loud, despite their
critics' attempts to silence them. And the
questions they raise are powerful.
Questions such as: what is the value of a human
life? Why are my life and achievements not worth
celebrating?
Deaf
children and their families embody the notion of
diversity.
Every deaf
child is an individual and every family will make
a unique decision about the ways in which they
will live out their experiences.
Let's not simplify their circumstances for the
sake of sensationalism.
Some deaf
children will immerse themselves in deaf
culture, finding a unique expression of their
identity through sign language. Others will not.
Some deaf
children will use hearing aids, and love the
freedom of moving in and out of two worlds. Others
will fiercely articulate their right to be left
alone.
Some deaf
children will have a cochlear implant, which will
awaken a world of meaningful sounds. Others will
find it a path to disappointment and frustration.
Some deaf
children will explore many identities, just like
those of us who are the fortunate beneficiaries of
multiculturalism.
A cochlear implant doesn't make deaf
children hearing children.
It's a very elaborate hearing aid, worn
internally. When the children remove their speech
processor to shower or jump into the swimming
pool, they are profoundly deaf.
The ``miracle of hearing'' is a transient
illusion.
When we refuse to engage with these children as deaf
children, because we are so enamoured of our
scientific prowess, we do them a great disservice.
Many deaf
children resent being tagged as ``disabled'' and,
in this regard, their families are their strongest
advocates.
Let's be clear about this: the barriers that
presently exist are yours, not theirs.
The efforts to dismantle them have largely been
theirs, however. And that is an onerous task,
indeed.
So, who would want a deaf
baby? It is our hope that, in the future this
question will raise no more eyebrows than: who
would want a baby?
All children are precious and deaf
children are no less precious than any others.
DAMIAN LACEY is chief executive of Victorian
Services for Deaf
Children.
damianlacey@vsdc.org.au
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