My practicum for the counseling department is at an elementary school, which means I am privy to the eccentric comments young children are infamous for blabbing (in this case, signing) without provocation.
One child, when asked by her teacher if she had remembered my name, signed that I was "cafeteria". Ironic … though her language was obviously delayed she was still able to hone in on one crucial aspect of my personality.
Later, in the cafeteria (er, in the David), I was having a lovely chat with an exceptionally bright 11-year-old girl. The topic was drugs and alcohol.
"I wish they had never been invented!" she complained.
"Indeed!" I signed back to her, although I was secretly anticipating a shot of Baileys for the upcoming weekend.
"They mess everything up," she continued. "I'm going to tell my brother that if he becomes President he'll have to make them illegal."
And then she added something that caught me off guard: "He's hearing, so…."
I paused and then asked her, "Why couldn't you be President and make it illegal yourself? You could be the first deaf female President."
The look on her face was incredible; she had never considered that she, as a deaf person, could actually be President.
Where do children learn that they are "limited"? Who tells them that they can't do or be something? What impressions does society make on individuals so that they accept without question what they are (in)capable of?
All of a sudden she was a flurry of signs: "You know I could … all I would need is an interpreter for all of the hearing people to understand me! I could make those bad things illegal, and make things better for deaf people..."
It was beautiful.
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