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http://www.chicagotribune.com/news/local/chi-deafed_21sep21,1,5109513.story?ctrack=1&cset=true
A beige plastic device the size of a quarter that peeks from his sandy blond hair is the only visible sign Adam Ballent is profoundly deaf.
He takes notes as his teachers lecture in class at Naperville North High School. He hollers on the soccer field when his club team scores. He recites the Boy Scout pledge with other members of his troop.
"Sometimes, when it's really noisy, I can't hear what people are saying," said Ballent, his words easily understood. "But most of the time, I can."
Ballent never learned sign language. He has no deaf friends. And at age 16, the sophomore is at the forefront of a wave of deaf children with cochlear implants who are entering mainstream classrooms across the country, following a path paved with high hopes and bitter controversy.
In 1996, after major advances in the revolutionary technology -- which stimulates auditory nerves in the inner ear and costs about $50,000 -- the first "oral deaf education" school in Illinois opened to teach young children with cochlear implants how to speak and hear. Since then, Child's Voice, in Wood Dale, has served more than 130 children, with many graduates going on to school districts throughout northern Illinois. Several similar programs have sprung up.
Meanwhile, the Illinois School for the Deaf, which serves students through high school using sign language as a teaching method, has seen sharp declines in enrollment. So have the public schools' special-education programs for the deaf.
"The first waves of deaf children [with implants] are starting to hit mainstream schools," said Barbara Sims, who oversees deaf and hard-of-hearing programs for the Illinois State Board of Education.
The shift is occurring across the country, said Thomas Kluwin, director of institutional research at Gallaudet University that serves the deaf in Washington, D.C.
Nearly 40,000 children in the U.S. are deaf or hard of hearing, including close to 3,000 in Illinois, according to a Gallaudet survey. Thirty years ago, 80 percent were in residential, specialized programs for the deaf, while 20 percent attended public school. Today, those numbers have flipped, Kluwin said.
Some 22,000 adults and 15,000 children in the U.S. have received the implants, according to the Food and Drug Administration.
Deafness, in general, has proved to be a major obstacle to academic success. Historically, deaf children on average graduate from high school with a 3rd- or 4th-grade reading level.
Proponents of oral education say the new technology and mainstream classes have significantly reduced learning barriers. But critics say the approach could be harmful to some deaf children.
Some say it's a mistake to bar children from learning sign language, a guaranteed method of communication, which they see as the best path to academic success. Others point out that it can be extremely isolating to be the only deaf child in a mainstream setting.
A state task force on deaf education, formed by the Illinois legislature last year, is closely following the oral-deaf experiment.
Adam Ballent had just turned 1-year-old when hospital tests revealed that he is profoundly deaf.
"I'll never forget that night," said his mother, Alice Ballent, as she sat in her Naperville home recalling the 1992 diagnosis. "I felt like someone had broken into my house and stolen part of my child away."
Determined to fill in the missing piece, she and her husband, Tom Ballent, decided to have doctors at Children's Memorial Hospital install a cochlear implant in their son's left inner ear.
But afterward, the boy needed a way to learn how to make sense of the sounds hitting his brain.
At the time, there were no schools in Illinois that taught children with cochlear implants how to speak and hear. The closest were in St. Louis.
So in 1996, the Ballents and two other families with deaf children banded together to establish Child's Voice. It started with one teacher and four students.
Today, its sprawling one-story building in Wood Dale bustles with nearly 80 children ranging in age from several months to 7 years. Half have cochlear implants, half regular hearing aids.
Prohibited from learning sign language, the pupils are submitted to constant auditory training.
It begins with sound recognition. Young children are asked to hold a block, then drop it to the ground every time the teacher makes a sound. From there, it's on to articulating -- over and over and over -- the "tick" of a clock, the "moo" of a cow.
On a recent day, a teacher sat at a low table with two 6-year-old boys. She had an array of stickers in her hands. The boys were asked to select one and place it on his lunch box.
"What is this?" the teacher asked.
"It's a sticker," said a boy with shaggy brown hair, an orange T-shirt and a mischievous smile.
"What are you going to do with it?"
"Put it on my lump boxch."
After two more tries he nailed it.
"Put it on my lunch box."
A four-year-old state law requiring that all newborns be screened for deafness has resulted in early intervention for more children. It's helped put more children on a path to mainstream schools, experts say.
In the 1970s, dozens of local school districts in Chicago's north and northwest suburbs formed an agency to serve deaf students. It offers sign language instruction in self-contained settings in select schools as well as support services to students attending mainstream classes.
Within the last five years, the number of students in those programs has dropped from 120 to 75, while the number of those in mainstream settings has grown from 160 to 240, said Becki Streit, the agency's executive director.
Similarly, since 1995, the number of students with cochlear implants attending Chicago public schools has increased from 8 to 89, said Eileen Andrews, with the district's office of specialized services.
In Adam Ballent's case, a hearing specialist visits him once a month to discuss his progress. The teen, who enjoys English and history more than math and science, is part of his high school's enriched language arts program. When asked what is the hardest part about being deaf, he shrugs.
"I really don't know," he said, seemingly bored by the topic.
Three years ago, Child's Voice invited 30 of its graduates ages 6 through 12 who had entered mainstream schools to come back for a day of academic testing. They scored at levels comparable to their hearing peers.
Some schools say that children with cochlear implants are performing notably higher than deaf children who communicate and learn through mostly sign language.
"Their language levels and vocabulary are much higher," said Joann Kort, special services coordinator for the Schaumburg School District. "So are their reading levels."
But not everyone with cochlear implants enjoys such success, experts say.
Some students with implants have failed to graduate from Child's Voice and go on to mainstream schools. Some turn out to have other disabilities, which hinder their progress, said Child's Voice executive director Michele Wilkins. Others, for unknown reasons, cannot translate their implants into successful language skills.
The results of the oral deaf experiment, experts say, won't be known for years, even decades.
For Adam Ballent and his family, that's fine. They're thrilled with the results they are witnessing.
"It's been a miracle," Alice Ballent said.
A beige plastic device the size of a quarter that peeks from his sandy blond hair is the only visible sign Adam Ballent is profoundly deaf.
He takes notes as his teachers lecture in class at Naperville North High School. He hollers on the soccer field when his club team scores. He recites the Boy Scout pledge with other members of his troop.
"Sometimes, when it's really noisy, I can't hear what people are saying," said Ballent, his words easily understood. "But most of the time, I can."
Ballent never learned sign language. He has no deaf friends. And at age 16, the sophomore is at the forefront of a wave of deaf children with cochlear implants who are entering mainstream classrooms across the country, following a path paved with high hopes and bitter controversy.
In 1996, after major advances in the revolutionary technology -- which stimulates auditory nerves in the inner ear and costs about $50,000 -- the first "oral deaf education" school in Illinois opened to teach young children with cochlear implants how to speak and hear. Since then, Child's Voice, in Wood Dale, has served more than 130 children, with many graduates going on to school districts throughout northern Illinois. Several similar programs have sprung up.
Meanwhile, the Illinois School for the Deaf, which serves students through high school using sign language as a teaching method, has seen sharp declines in enrollment. So have the public schools' special-education programs for the deaf.
"The first waves of deaf children [with implants] are starting to hit mainstream schools," said Barbara Sims, who oversees deaf and hard-of-hearing programs for the Illinois State Board of Education.
The shift is occurring across the country, said Thomas Kluwin, director of institutional research at Gallaudet University that serves the deaf in Washington, D.C.
Nearly 40,000 children in the U.S. are deaf or hard of hearing, including close to 3,000 in Illinois, according to a Gallaudet survey. Thirty years ago, 80 percent were in residential, specialized programs for the deaf, while 20 percent attended public school. Today, those numbers have flipped, Kluwin said.
Some 22,000 adults and 15,000 children in the U.S. have received the implants, according to the Food and Drug Administration.
Deafness, in general, has proved to be a major obstacle to academic success. Historically, deaf children on average graduate from high school with a 3rd- or 4th-grade reading level.
Proponents of oral education say the new technology and mainstream classes have significantly reduced learning barriers. But critics say the approach could be harmful to some deaf children.
Some say it's a mistake to bar children from learning sign language, a guaranteed method of communication, which they see as the best path to academic success. Others point out that it can be extremely isolating to be the only deaf child in a mainstream setting.
A state task force on deaf education, formed by the Illinois legislature last year, is closely following the oral-deaf experiment.
Adam Ballent had just turned 1-year-old when hospital tests revealed that he is profoundly deaf.
"I'll never forget that night," said his mother, Alice Ballent, as she sat in her Naperville home recalling the 1992 diagnosis. "I felt like someone had broken into my house and stolen part of my child away."
Determined to fill in the missing piece, she and her husband, Tom Ballent, decided to have doctors at Children's Memorial Hospital install a cochlear implant in their son's left inner ear.
But afterward, the boy needed a way to learn how to make sense of the sounds hitting his brain.
At the time, there were no schools in Illinois that taught children with cochlear implants how to speak and hear. The closest were in St. Louis.
So in 1996, the Ballents and two other families with deaf children banded together to establish Child's Voice. It started with one teacher and four students.
Today, its sprawling one-story building in Wood Dale bustles with nearly 80 children ranging in age from several months to 7 years. Half have cochlear implants, half regular hearing aids.
Prohibited from learning sign language, the pupils are submitted to constant auditory training.
It begins with sound recognition. Young children are asked to hold a block, then drop it to the ground every time the teacher makes a sound. From there, it's on to articulating -- over and over and over -- the "tick" of a clock, the "moo" of a cow.
On a recent day, a teacher sat at a low table with two 6-year-old boys. She had an array of stickers in her hands. The boys were asked to select one and place it on his lunch box.
"What is this?" the teacher asked.
"It's a sticker," said a boy with shaggy brown hair, an orange T-shirt and a mischievous smile.
"What are you going to do with it?"
"Put it on my lump boxch."
After two more tries he nailed it.
"Put it on my lunch box."
A four-year-old state law requiring that all newborns be screened for deafness has resulted in early intervention for more children. It's helped put more children on a path to mainstream schools, experts say.
In the 1970s, dozens of local school districts in Chicago's north and northwest suburbs formed an agency to serve deaf students. It offers sign language instruction in self-contained settings in select schools as well as support services to students attending mainstream classes.
Within the last five years, the number of students in those programs has dropped from 120 to 75, while the number of those in mainstream settings has grown from 160 to 240, said Becki Streit, the agency's executive director.
Similarly, since 1995, the number of students with cochlear implants attending Chicago public schools has increased from 8 to 89, said Eileen Andrews, with the district's office of specialized services.
In Adam Ballent's case, a hearing specialist visits him once a month to discuss his progress. The teen, who enjoys English and history more than math and science, is part of his high school's enriched language arts program. When asked what is the hardest part about being deaf, he shrugs.
"I really don't know," he said, seemingly bored by the topic.
Three years ago, Child's Voice invited 30 of its graduates ages 6 through 12 who had entered mainstream schools to come back for a day of academic testing. They scored at levels comparable to their hearing peers.
Some schools say that children with cochlear implants are performing notably higher than deaf children who communicate and learn through mostly sign language.
"Their language levels and vocabulary are much higher," said Joann Kort, special services coordinator for the Schaumburg School District. "So are their reading levels."
But not everyone with cochlear implants enjoys such success, experts say.
Some students with implants have failed to graduate from Child's Voice and go on to mainstream schools. Some turn out to have other disabilities, which hinder their progress, said Child's Voice executive director Michele Wilkins. Others, for unknown reasons, cannot translate their implants into successful language skills.
The results of the oral deaf experiment, experts say, won't be known for years, even decades.
For Adam Ballent and his family, that's fine. They're thrilled with the results they are witnessing.
"It's been a miracle," Alice Ballent said.
You don't need to be fixed, sweetie.....you need human communication. Hang around the board and interact here until you are in a position to seek out the deaf community on your own. I know its not quite the same as hanging out with deaf/hoh kids your age, but it beats nothing.
