I had not had any contact with my Aunt Rima for more than 50 years – she divorced my late paternal uncle, Uncle Alfred in 1967. Somehow, two years ago, she electronically contacted me, and this contact had helped me close some gaps in my family tree. Since then, we’ve kept in touch and have traded holiday cards, virtual or otherwise.
Last month, I mailed Aunt Rima my holiday card, which mentioned my blog site. She took an opportunity to read my blogs, and consequently, she recalled one time when my parents and I flew from Brussels to Danbury, Connecticut (via NYC) during the summer of 1964. I was about 10 months old at that time. There, we visited my paternal grandparents, Uncle Alfred, Aunt Rima and their three children. On a beautiful and sunny day, we all sat outside the terrace of Opa’s and Oma’s house. While I was happily playing in my playpen, Aunt Rima observed that I wasn’t behaving in a manner she would expect from babies with typical hearing. She saw my lack of any response to any person around myself. Several months later, Uncle Alfred told his wife that I had been diagnosed deaf. She then responded, ‘Thank G-d, I thought he was retarded.’
Aunt Rima wasn’t the only person who’d have initially thought that I’d be ‘retarded,’ just because I acted differently. I recall that my daughter Hannah overheard one of her elementary school classmates calling her parents (that’s me and my wife Denise) ‘retarded.’ Hannah was so mad that she ran after him, but she couldn’t catch him because he went to their school boys’ bathroom. She wanted to beat him up so badly.
Before any of you could ask me what I’d say to Aunt Rima about her story, I already responded to her. Here’s what I wrote to her, as follows:
“…there have been people who definitely deserve to be considered ‘[idiotic].’ Some of them are doctors across Europe who assured my parents more than 56 years ago that I had normal hearing. That took a while before a well-known English doctor (Dr. Edith Whetnall1) confirmed my deafness.”
Indeed, one of the doctors in question had me sit on a table, and he’d walk behind me. He’d then clap his hands behind my head, and I’d turn around to look at the doctor. It was because of the air, not the noise, from his claps!
In any event, Aunt Rima didn’t know that unintentional labeling of people with disabilities or people that might differ from her could be hurtful, but I’m glad she brought it up, because it is a wonderful teachable moment.
Thank you, Aunt Rima!
References
I know a boy who fooled the school until 2nd grade because while administering the hearing test they would play a tone and then look up at him. At which point he would raise his hand that he heard the beep.
Not the first time nor the last time. I tried that trick a few times, especially when I had an ear infection, and I didn’t want the audiologist to know it. I also feared that my hearing loss had gotten worse. After she figured it out quickly, she had me take another test after my infection was cleared. The results looked much better.