For a current update on my cochlear implant experience, go to: http://withinearshotbc.blogspot.com
In my parents research and travels, they discovered and assessed a private oral deaf school in Portland, OR. Satisfied by the school's philosophy, they decided I would become a student at Tucker Maxon Oral School. In a determined spirit, they packed up the family, left behind the farm machinery business and moved 1000 miles away from their loyal and supportive friends and family into the big city. The small town of Camrose had been their home for many years. My parents had a setback with Customs upon the move across the border. Customs couldn't understand why I was going to a deaf school, as my parents answered questions and papers were being filed. The medical doctor had made an inaccurate official report - labeling me mentally retarded. That caused quite a fury for Mom and Dad! That aside, we settled in the USA into a neighborhood near the school where my parents and I would be guided under the directorship of Hattie Harrell, a committed woman who believed in the possibilities of speech for deaf children. My mother dedicated much of her time to the school, while my father struggled to make a new life for the family. My older sister and brother made new friends in the neighborhood while I followed suit. My siblings were a huge influence on me, and I wanted to be normal, just like them. In my early days, frustrated with my inability to hear and be understood, I would throw temper tantrums by throwing and banging myself on the floor, leaving bruises on my forehead.
My daily school life was a struggle. I recall the daily morning routine of resistance when my mother woke me up. I DID NOT WANT TO GO TO SCHOOL! It was much too hard, as I felt the daily grind to succeed. In my determination to refrain from getting out of bed, I would pretend I was dead as a fallen tree as she dressed and dragged me to breakfast. I was miserable until I entered the door of the school, and at that moment my behavior would change. Influenced by the educators, I desired to be a perfect student. I was driven. I wanted to push hard. One year, the stress got to me with a teacher who I adored. She challenged me so much that I couldn't keep my food down. My doctor prescribed medicine for a time to settle my nerves. I wore a body aid, complete with a harness, wires snaking up the neck to knobs attached to molds in my ears. Heaven forbid that I would wear it outside of school. I dreaded the dinner hour, as I knew my 'dessert' was going to continue with hours of reading, writing and speech work with my mother. She made sure it was a nightly routine or I was in trouble by the teacher if I didn't have an updated journal for her on the next day. Looking back, I do believe the idea of journal writing is a great idea, as it taught us English skills and enabled the teacher and parent to be in tune with the child’s day to day life. Besides, it was an opportunity for two-way communication and speech practice. To this day I still have my journals from my early age and am baffled at the grammar I was learning at such early age.
In my parents research and travels, they discovered and assessed a private oral deaf school in Portland, OR. Satisfied by the school's philosophy, they decided I would become a student at Tucker Maxon Oral School. In a determined spirit, they packed up the family, left behind the farm machinery business and moved 1000 miles away from their loyal and supportive friends and family into the big city. The small town of Camrose had been their home for many years. My parents had a setback with Customs upon the move across the border. Customs couldn't understand why I was going to a deaf school, as my parents answered questions and papers were being filed. The medical doctor had made an inaccurate official report - labeling me mentally retarded. That caused quite a fury for Mom and Dad! That aside, we settled in the USA into a neighborhood near the school where my parents and I would be guided under the directorship of Hattie Harrell, a committed woman who believed in the possibilities of speech for deaf children. My mother dedicated much of her time to the school, while my father struggled to make a new life for the family. My older sister and brother made new friends in the neighborhood while I followed suit. My siblings were a huge influence on me, and I wanted to be normal, just like them. In my early days, frustrated with my inability to hear and be understood, I would throw temper tantrums by throwing and banging myself on the floor, leaving bruises on my forehead.
My daily school life was a struggle. I recall the daily morning routine of resistance when my mother woke me up. I DID NOT WANT TO GO TO SCHOOL! It was much too hard, as I felt the daily grind to succeed. In my determination to refrain from getting out of bed, I would pretend I was dead as a fallen tree as she dressed and dragged me to breakfast. I was miserable until I entered the door of the school, and at that moment my behavior would change. Influenced by the educators, I desired to be a perfect student. I was driven. I wanted to push hard. One year, the stress got to me with a teacher who I adored. She challenged me so much that I couldn't keep my food down. My doctor prescribed medicine for a time to settle my nerves. I wore a body aid, complete with a harness, wires snaking up the neck to knobs attached to molds in my ears. Heaven forbid that I would wear it outside of school. I dreaded the dinner hour, as I knew my 'dessert' was going to continue with hours of reading, writing and speech work with my mother. She made sure it was a nightly routine or I was in trouble by the teacher if I didn't have an updated journal for her on the next day. Looking back, I do believe the idea of journal writing is a great idea, as it taught us English skills and enabled the teacher and parent to be in tune with the child’s day to day life. Besides, it was an opportunity for two-way communication and speech practice. To this day I still have my journals from my early age and am baffled at the grammar I was learning at such early age.
