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http://www.idsnews.com/subsite/story.php?id=31885&adid=features
On a campus with only a handful of people who consider themselves deaf, two IU have to make accomodations so they aren't excluded from the hearing world.
When Erik Nordlof was two years old, he contracted bacterial meningitis and lost his hearing. Less than a year later, his parents decided doctors should give him a cochlear implant to help him hear. Now a 19-year-old sophomore studying computer information systems, he said he doesn't consider his deafness to be a big deal.
"My ears are broken, but my brain is intact," he said.
Nordlof's parents researched the cochlear implant and thought it would make their son's life more "normal." He is completely deaf in his left ear and has the cochlear implant for his right. He explained that the tiny "hairs" within his cochlea were damaged, and the implant takes the place of damaged parts within the ear. With the implant's help, nerves are stimulated from electronic signals that the brain interprets.
Nordlof said he can communicate well with the device, but he hears best in a quiet setting where he can read the lips of speakers who talk clearly and slowly.
"I get frustrated when people say 'never mind,' and leave me out of the conversation," he said. "I want to know what's going on. Just be patient when communicating with me. It might take some effort, but once we get past that, it's not a problem to talk to me."
He can detect noises, but said he doesn't get the full experience of sound. He enjoys music with a strong beat and lyrics that are easy to understand.
Nordlof said not all deaf people use the same method to communicate. They might use American Sign Language, English sign, finger spelling, speech, lip-reading or a combination of each.
"There's such a variety that you can't establish a stereotype," Nordlof said.
ASL instructor Mike Jackson of the IU Department of Speech and Hearing Sciences was born deaf and one of his three children is deaf. Jackson cautions that it's rude to ask a deaf person if they can read lips or speak English.
"Don't be afraid of us, say hello," he said. "Deaf people won't bite. If you're having trouble communicating, you can write things on paper."
Jackson said when hearing people see a hearing aid or cochlear implant, they view the individual as handicapped. He said the medical community often pushes parents to "fix" their deaf children with cochlear implants, but in doing so, parents might deprive the children of experiencing deaf culture. He said children should wait until they're older before deciding to get a cochlear implant so they have the opportunity to participate in deaf culture and can later make an informed decision.
ASL instructor Amy Cornwell, also of the IU Department of Speech and Hearing Sciences, is a hearing daughter of two deaf parents. ASL was her first language, and she became bilingual when she learned English.
"I never thought of it as being different," she said. "Signing was just the way we communicated."
Cornwell also works as an ASL interpreter. She said interpreters listen to what's being said and change it into ASL while continuing to listen and sign.
"You try to keep the concept and information exact, but it's not an English word-for-word translation," she said.
Cornwell interprets for Nordlof's racquetball class by using ASL, but in his other classes, she uses "real-time captioning," where an interpreter types a transcript using a stenographer's keyboard and the classroom discussion appears on a computer screen which Nordlof uses to take notes.
"I want to surpass people's expectations, not as a deaf person, but as a human being," Nordlof said.
Overcoming the odds
Sophomore transfer student Misty Irwin was born deaf in her right ear and partially deaf in her left. Her mom didn't know she was deaf until she was 2 years old. Irwin said her mother refused to see her as a "disabled child," encouraging her to do anything she wanted.
Doctors told her mother that Irwin might be eligible for a cochlear implant, but if the surgery went wrong, Irwin's face could be paralyzed or she could lose her remaining hearing. She decided not to take that risk with her daughter.
"I don't feel defective or need to be fixed," she said. "It's just a part of who I am."
Irwin used hearing aids when she attended public schools in southeastern Indiana. In middle school, she recalls teachers raising their voices and yelling at her, and students making fun of her speech and intelligence.
Through intensive speech therapy, Irwin was able to learn to speak, though she can barely hear her own voice. Today, she is able to read people's lips and respond using clear English.
"Sometimes people don't know I can read lips and avoid conversation with me," she said. "Or, I'll ask someone to repeat what they said, and they'll get aggravated. It's hard to make friends if people won't talk to you."
When she was 15, she developed a severe ear infection and awoke one morning to find she had lost her remaining hearing.
"I was expecting it," she said. "I was sad that I couldn't hear music anymore." She enjoyed R&B, pop and rap music. Sometimes she'll replay what she remembers in her head.
Irwin said kids were nicer in high school although it was rough. She had no interpreters until she was in college and had teachers who didn't make an effort to communicate with her.
"I didn't do well in school," she said. "I was constantly under stress. Teachers thought I was a lost cause, and I believed it for a while."
Because of her low self-esteem, Irwin's career goals and ambitions began to dissolve. But as time went on, she gained confidence in herself.
"After high school graduation, I did a lot of soul searching and decided to go to college," she said. She began taking classes at Ivy Tech University State College in Sellersburg, Ind. There, she had her first interpreter.
"The first day of school was amazing," she said. "I could talk with teachers and classmates."
Irwin decided to apply to IU to continue her education. The first time she applied, admissions personnel asked her to write a letter explaining why her high school grades were low. She received a rejection letter and was told she needed to continue her college experience at Ivy Tech even though she had maintained a 4.0 grade point average there. Unwilling to give up, she reapplied a semester later and was accepted. She began classes during the second summer session of this year.
"I was motivated to keep going by thinking about how much I had already been through. I was determined to go here," she said.
To help her achieve success at IU, Irwin has accommodating electronics in her home. Like an alarm clock that shakes her bed in the morning and a teletypewriter phone, a device that allows deaf and hearing people to type back and forth to each other using standard phone lines.
Irwin's looking into her career options and exploring the possibility of graduate school. She is considering being a psychologist or becoming involved with prison reform.
Now in her first full semester at IU, Irwin's looking to get involved in campus activities. She wants to take it easy this semester to adjust, but she saw David Spade perform at the IU Auditorium with the help of an interpreter and plans to see an opera.
"I've grown comfortable being deaf," she said. "I don't see deafness as a problem, and I don't think I need to be 'fixed.'"
On a campus with only a handful of people who consider themselves deaf, two IU have to make accomodations so they aren't excluded from the hearing world.
When Erik Nordlof was two years old, he contracted bacterial meningitis and lost his hearing. Less than a year later, his parents decided doctors should give him a cochlear implant to help him hear. Now a 19-year-old sophomore studying computer information systems, he said he doesn't consider his deafness to be a big deal.
"My ears are broken, but my brain is intact," he said.
Nordlof's parents researched the cochlear implant and thought it would make their son's life more "normal." He is completely deaf in his left ear and has the cochlear implant for his right. He explained that the tiny "hairs" within his cochlea were damaged, and the implant takes the place of damaged parts within the ear. With the implant's help, nerves are stimulated from electronic signals that the brain interprets.
Nordlof said he can communicate well with the device, but he hears best in a quiet setting where he can read the lips of speakers who talk clearly and slowly.
"I get frustrated when people say 'never mind,' and leave me out of the conversation," he said. "I want to know what's going on. Just be patient when communicating with me. It might take some effort, but once we get past that, it's not a problem to talk to me."
He can detect noises, but said he doesn't get the full experience of sound. He enjoys music with a strong beat and lyrics that are easy to understand.
Nordlof said not all deaf people use the same method to communicate. They might use American Sign Language, English sign, finger spelling, speech, lip-reading or a combination of each.
"There's such a variety that you can't establish a stereotype," Nordlof said.
ASL instructor Mike Jackson of the IU Department of Speech and Hearing Sciences was born deaf and one of his three children is deaf. Jackson cautions that it's rude to ask a deaf person if they can read lips or speak English.
"Don't be afraid of us, say hello," he said. "Deaf people won't bite. If you're having trouble communicating, you can write things on paper."
Jackson said when hearing people see a hearing aid or cochlear implant, they view the individual as handicapped. He said the medical community often pushes parents to "fix" their deaf children with cochlear implants, but in doing so, parents might deprive the children of experiencing deaf culture. He said children should wait until they're older before deciding to get a cochlear implant so they have the opportunity to participate in deaf culture and can later make an informed decision.
ASL instructor Amy Cornwell, also of the IU Department of Speech and Hearing Sciences, is a hearing daughter of two deaf parents. ASL was her first language, and she became bilingual when she learned English.
"I never thought of it as being different," she said. "Signing was just the way we communicated."
Cornwell also works as an ASL interpreter. She said interpreters listen to what's being said and change it into ASL while continuing to listen and sign.
"You try to keep the concept and information exact, but it's not an English word-for-word translation," she said.
Cornwell interprets for Nordlof's racquetball class by using ASL, but in his other classes, she uses "real-time captioning," where an interpreter types a transcript using a stenographer's keyboard and the classroom discussion appears on a computer screen which Nordlof uses to take notes.
"I want to surpass people's expectations, not as a deaf person, but as a human being," Nordlof said.
Overcoming the odds
Sophomore transfer student Misty Irwin was born deaf in her right ear and partially deaf in her left. Her mom didn't know she was deaf until she was 2 years old. Irwin said her mother refused to see her as a "disabled child," encouraging her to do anything she wanted.
Doctors told her mother that Irwin might be eligible for a cochlear implant, but if the surgery went wrong, Irwin's face could be paralyzed or she could lose her remaining hearing. She decided not to take that risk with her daughter.
"I don't feel defective or need to be fixed," she said. "It's just a part of who I am."
Irwin used hearing aids when she attended public schools in southeastern Indiana. In middle school, she recalls teachers raising their voices and yelling at her, and students making fun of her speech and intelligence.
Through intensive speech therapy, Irwin was able to learn to speak, though she can barely hear her own voice. Today, she is able to read people's lips and respond using clear English.
"Sometimes people don't know I can read lips and avoid conversation with me," she said. "Or, I'll ask someone to repeat what they said, and they'll get aggravated. It's hard to make friends if people won't talk to you."
When she was 15, she developed a severe ear infection and awoke one morning to find she had lost her remaining hearing.
"I was expecting it," she said. "I was sad that I couldn't hear music anymore." She enjoyed R&B, pop and rap music. Sometimes she'll replay what she remembers in her head.
Irwin said kids were nicer in high school although it was rough. She had no interpreters until she was in college and had teachers who didn't make an effort to communicate with her.
"I didn't do well in school," she said. "I was constantly under stress. Teachers thought I was a lost cause, and I believed it for a while."
Because of her low self-esteem, Irwin's career goals and ambitions began to dissolve. But as time went on, she gained confidence in herself.
"After high school graduation, I did a lot of soul searching and decided to go to college," she said. She began taking classes at Ivy Tech University State College in Sellersburg, Ind. There, she had her first interpreter.
"The first day of school was amazing," she said. "I could talk with teachers and classmates."
Irwin decided to apply to IU to continue her education. The first time she applied, admissions personnel asked her to write a letter explaining why her high school grades were low. She received a rejection letter and was told she needed to continue her college experience at Ivy Tech even though she had maintained a 4.0 grade point average there. Unwilling to give up, she reapplied a semester later and was accepted. She began classes during the second summer session of this year.
"I was motivated to keep going by thinking about how much I had already been through. I was determined to go here," she said.
To help her achieve success at IU, Irwin has accommodating electronics in her home. Like an alarm clock that shakes her bed in the morning and a teletypewriter phone, a device that allows deaf and hearing people to type back and forth to each other using standard phone lines.
Irwin's looking into her career options and exploring the possibility of graduate school. She is considering being a psychologist or becoming involved with prison reform.
Now in her first full semester at IU, Irwin's looking to get involved in campus activities. She wants to take it easy this semester to adjust, but she saw David Spade perform at the IU Auditorium with the help of an interpreter and plans to see an opera.
"I've grown comfortable being deaf," she said. "I don't see deafness as a problem, and I don't think I need to be 'fixed.'"