Miss-Delectable
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FayObserver.com - Douglas Byrd's Shannon Melton gaining new perspective
Sidelined with a fractured left ankle, Shannon Melton didn't realize how much she was really missing.
The pregame music blaring from the stadium speakers? Shannon never knew it existed, and she thinks it's cool.
The steady stream of shouting among teammates? She had no idea they chatted back and forth so frequently on the field.
The applause after a good play? That's certainly a nice touch.
Shannon, a sophomore defender for Douglas Byrd's soccer team, was born profoundly deaf. She received a cochlear implant for her right ear at age 3 and had the same surgery eight months ago to slowly facilitate hearing in her left ear.
She has communicated by conventional means for most of her life, removing the external portions of the implants only in extreme circumstances like when she's showering, trying to sleep through a scary thunderstorm or playing sports.
Shannon switched to a spectator's role after hurting her ankle, and watching soccer with the hearing devices still attached provided a different perspective of the game she loves.
"It will always be my passion," she says.
Shannon's mother, Kathy, is from Northern Ireland, and the Irish children of her father's half-brother are deaf. Even though Kathy doesn't have any hearing problems, the lineage factors into why her daughters do.
Doctors discovered Shannon's condition a few weeks after she was born and explored the option of a cochlear implant following an experiment with hearing aids. Shannon's father was in the military, and Kathy said his TRICARE health plan covered the $48,000 cost of surgery.
It's a complex procedure.
The surgeon makes an incision behind the ear and uses drills to create space for an internal device that rests beneath the skin. An electrode array that stimulates the auditory portion of the inner ear is inserted, and a magnet holds the internal device next to an external one that features a microphone, sound processor and transmitter. Signals generated by the implant are sent by way of the auditory nerve to the brain.
Shannon's mother, a nurse who was between jobs at the time, took a year off to perform speech therapy and train her youngest daughter how to detect sounds. Kathy attended classes in Raleigh to enhance her knowledge of the subject, and teachers from The Eastern North Carolina School for the Deaf in Wilson visited Fayetteville to observe how she interacted with Shannon.
"I look up to my mom," Shannon says. "Raising me as a single mother, she worked very hard to teach me how to speak. She worked her butt off for me."
Positive results encouraged Kathy, who maintained a strong desire for Shannon to take mainstream classes given her ability to speak properly and hear effectively. Shannon sometimes sat with a small speaker at her desk while a teacher talked into a microphone.
Her success contributed to a language barrier at home.
Shannon didn't sign because she had never needed an interpreter, and that kept her from having a close relationship with her older sister, Jamie.
It took longer to identify Jamie, who is seven years older than Shannon, as hearing impaired, and Shannon benefited from what her mother learned during Jamie's upbringing.
Participating in mainstream and specialized classes, Jamie showed some disdain for her cochlear implant and often communicated by signing. Many deaf individuals view their condition as a difference in human experience rather than a disability.
"When Shannon realized the only way she could talk to her sister was with sign language, then she really started learning it and noticed a big difference," Kathy says.
Carol Gillespie, who works with deaf and hard of hearing students at Mary McArthur Elementary School, taught Shannon how to sign, even giving her a way to uniquely say her own name. She liked to tap her chest with a closed fist and flash two fingers while saying "Peace out," so the opening half of that sequence came to represent "Shannon."
Jamie and Shannon began to sign back and forth in front of their mother, a creative way to conduct private girl talks in the company of an adult.
"I wanted to have a relationship with my sister," Shannon says. "We didn't talk that much back then, but now we're like best friends."
Shannon's Irish ancestry contributes to her passion for soccer. She was an all-league selection in the Cape Fear 3-A Conference last year as a freshman, and she added junior varsity volleyball to her list of extracurricular activities as a sophomore.
Volleyball coach Reenesha Wright regularly runs her fingers through her hair, so Shannon signs her name by forming a "W" with her hand and sliding it across the top of her forehead. She identifies soccer coach Jacob Blalock by tucking her thumb behind four fingers, creating a "b."
When Jacob needs to communicate with Shannon after she's removed her hearing devices, interpreter Emily Crahen or teammate Natalia Sanabria, who wears a hearing aid, are available for on-field assistance. Douglas Byrd's players sat in a semi-circle as Jacob addressed the team at halftime of a recent match, and Shannon watched intently as Emily signed the coach's message.
"Interpreting for soccer, because she has to focus on the game, I wasn't sure how I would get her attention when necessary," Emily says. "I love to see how she communicates with her teammates when I'm not interpreting."
Douglas Byrd's roster is filled with inexperienced players, and injuries have taken a toll on the team. Shannon returned to the lineup in mid-April, and the Eagles (2-12) conclude their season tonight against league-leading Union Pines.
One of their best performances occurred in early March, during a 2-0 loss against Pine Forest. Shannon took charge of the backline, making sure newcomers were in the right positions, and Douglas Byrd held the Trojans' offensive attack in check.
"It was incredible," Jacob says. "The way she orchestrates communication on the field is pretty impressive to me."
Shannon spends the fourth period of each day at Douglas Byrd in a study skills class with Rebecca Cleary, who teaches the school's deaf and hard of hearing students.
Shannon has been recommended to take honors courses in Spanish and English as a junior, and she laughs when Rebecca brings up geometry as a subject that merits extra attention in the study sessions. They traveled together to Washington last year for an academic bowl at Gallaudet University, the nation's only university for the deaf and hearing impaired.
Shannon, who tutors young children with hearing challenges, has expressed an interest in becoming a nurse, just like her mother, or working in law enforcement. Kathy said she admires Shannon for having the courage to participate in so many social exercises when it might be easier to steer clear of them.
"The deaf culture, a lot of times they just want to keep to themselves," Kathy says. "I've always put my girls out there because this is the world we're going to be living in, so we need to not be shy.
"I think it's the Irish in me, but go out there, do the best you can and be personable with people."
Sidelined with a fractured left ankle, Shannon Melton didn't realize how much she was really missing.
The pregame music blaring from the stadium speakers? Shannon never knew it existed, and she thinks it's cool.
The steady stream of shouting among teammates? She had no idea they chatted back and forth so frequently on the field.
The applause after a good play? That's certainly a nice touch.
Shannon, a sophomore defender for Douglas Byrd's soccer team, was born profoundly deaf. She received a cochlear implant for her right ear at age 3 and had the same surgery eight months ago to slowly facilitate hearing in her left ear.
She has communicated by conventional means for most of her life, removing the external portions of the implants only in extreme circumstances like when she's showering, trying to sleep through a scary thunderstorm or playing sports.
Shannon switched to a spectator's role after hurting her ankle, and watching soccer with the hearing devices still attached provided a different perspective of the game she loves.
"It will always be my passion," she says.
Shannon's mother, Kathy, is from Northern Ireland, and the Irish children of her father's half-brother are deaf. Even though Kathy doesn't have any hearing problems, the lineage factors into why her daughters do.
Doctors discovered Shannon's condition a few weeks after she was born and explored the option of a cochlear implant following an experiment with hearing aids. Shannon's father was in the military, and Kathy said his TRICARE health plan covered the $48,000 cost of surgery.
It's a complex procedure.
The surgeon makes an incision behind the ear and uses drills to create space for an internal device that rests beneath the skin. An electrode array that stimulates the auditory portion of the inner ear is inserted, and a magnet holds the internal device next to an external one that features a microphone, sound processor and transmitter. Signals generated by the implant are sent by way of the auditory nerve to the brain.
Shannon's mother, a nurse who was between jobs at the time, took a year off to perform speech therapy and train her youngest daughter how to detect sounds. Kathy attended classes in Raleigh to enhance her knowledge of the subject, and teachers from The Eastern North Carolina School for the Deaf in Wilson visited Fayetteville to observe how she interacted with Shannon.
"I look up to my mom," Shannon says. "Raising me as a single mother, she worked very hard to teach me how to speak. She worked her butt off for me."
Positive results encouraged Kathy, who maintained a strong desire for Shannon to take mainstream classes given her ability to speak properly and hear effectively. Shannon sometimes sat with a small speaker at her desk while a teacher talked into a microphone.
Her success contributed to a language barrier at home.
Shannon didn't sign because she had never needed an interpreter, and that kept her from having a close relationship with her older sister, Jamie.
It took longer to identify Jamie, who is seven years older than Shannon, as hearing impaired, and Shannon benefited from what her mother learned during Jamie's upbringing.
Participating in mainstream and specialized classes, Jamie showed some disdain for her cochlear implant and often communicated by signing. Many deaf individuals view their condition as a difference in human experience rather than a disability.
"When Shannon realized the only way she could talk to her sister was with sign language, then she really started learning it and noticed a big difference," Kathy says.
Carol Gillespie, who works with deaf and hard of hearing students at Mary McArthur Elementary School, taught Shannon how to sign, even giving her a way to uniquely say her own name. She liked to tap her chest with a closed fist and flash two fingers while saying "Peace out," so the opening half of that sequence came to represent "Shannon."
Jamie and Shannon began to sign back and forth in front of their mother, a creative way to conduct private girl talks in the company of an adult.
"I wanted to have a relationship with my sister," Shannon says. "We didn't talk that much back then, but now we're like best friends."
Shannon's Irish ancestry contributes to her passion for soccer. She was an all-league selection in the Cape Fear 3-A Conference last year as a freshman, and she added junior varsity volleyball to her list of extracurricular activities as a sophomore.
Volleyball coach Reenesha Wright regularly runs her fingers through her hair, so Shannon signs her name by forming a "W" with her hand and sliding it across the top of her forehead. She identifies soccer coach Jacob Blalock by tucking her thumb behind four fingers, creating a "b."
When Jacob needs to communicate with Shannon after she's removed her hearing devices, interpreter Emily Crahen or teammate Natalia Sanabria, who wears a hearing aid, are available for on-field assistance. Douglas Byrd's players sat in a semi-circle as Jacob addressed the team at halftime of a recent match, and Shannon watched intently as Emily signed the coach's message.
"Interpreting for soccer, because she has to focus on the game, I wasn't sure how I would get her attention when necessary," Emily says. "I love to see how she communicates with her teammates when I'm not interpreting."
Douglas Byrd's roster is filled with inexperienced players, and injuries have taken a toll on the team. Shannon returned to the lineup in mid-April, and the Eagles (2-12) conclude their season tonight against league-leading Union Pines.
One of their best performances occurred in early March, during a 2-0 loss against Pine Forest. Shannon took charge of the backline, making sure newcomers were in the right positions, and Douglas Byrd held the Trojans' offensive attack in check.
"It was incredible," Jacob says. "The way she orchestrates communication on the field is pretty impressive to me."
Shannon spends the fourth period of each day at Douglas Byrd in a study skills class with Rebecca Cleary, who teaches the school's deaf and hard of hearing students.
Shannon has been recommended to take honors courses in Spanish and English as a junior, and she laughs when Rebecca brings up geometry as a subject that merits extra attention in the study sessions. They traveled together to Washington last year for an academic bowl at Gallaudet University, the nation's only university for the deaf and hearing impaired.
Shannon, who tutors young children with hearing challenges, has expressed an interest in becoming a nurse, just like her mother, or working in law enforcement. Kathy said she admires Shannon for having the courage to participate in so many social exercises when it might be easier to steer clear of them.
"The deaf culture, a lot of times they just want to keep to themselves," Kathy says. "I've always put my girls out there because this is the world we're going to be living in, so we need to not be shy.
"I think it's the Irish in me, but go out there, do the best you can and be personable with people."