It's Happening, Part One

This week, a communications specialist from the Oklahoma Education Association came to my school to interview me for the article he is writing on hearing loss in students. About this time last year, my motions to educate educators on promoting and maintaining hearing-friendly classrooms and how to recognize hearing loss in students were unanimously adopted by my state delegation. They were also adopted by my national delegation last summer. Now my advocacy is coming into fruition. A national representative will be interviewing me by telephone next week.

While hearing loss is certainly less than epidemic in children of school age, it can significantly affect learning, communication, and behavior in the classroom. Because it is not easily recognized by teachers, it is often dismissed as lack of interest, poor listening, attention deficit disorders, second language learning, learning disabilities, and "bad attitude." Children with hearing loss are relegated to back rows, time out, detention rooms, behavioral or academic counseling, child study referrals, retention, and learning disabilities resource rooms.

The fact, however, according to the National Institute of Health, is that 1 in 10 school-aged children in our public schools have some form of hearing loss. That translates to a staggering reality -- in a typical classroom of 20 or more, there may be at least 2 children who have difficulty hearing and understanding oral instruction. And due to acquired environmentally-induced hearing loss, those numbers are growing. The ear bud generation is paying for their choices in the form of hearing loss.

We cannot afford to ignore the statistics. Nor can we excuse our ignorance about hearing loss anymore.

"What are some tips you would give teachers for recognizing hearing loss?" he asked.

"These things," I said.

1. Don't assume that inattention or lack of interest in learning are related to a behavioral disorder. While ADHD, autism, and sensory disorders have consumed the spotlight in education circles, hearing loss is a real and possible cause of behavioral and learning problems. ALWAYS assume hearing loss first and have the child screened.
2. Don't assume that a child's academic difficulties are because they are learning a second language. Hearing loss isn't selective about spoken language. It affects children who speak English, Spanish, Hmong, Arabic, and pig-Latin. If there is ANY problem in language development or communication, ALWAYS assume hearing loss first and have the child screened.
3. Don't assume that a child's poor academic progress is related to a learning disability. A child with hearing loss may hear environmental sounds, including speech, but may be incapable of understanding speech due to their hearing loss. If a child is having difficulty achieving academically, ALWAYS assume hearing loss first and have the child screened. 

Above all, educators should remember that hearing loss is invisible. Unlike vision, it cannot be recognized by a student who squints or tells you they can't see the board. Children with hearing loss may not even realize they aren't hearing properly. So it is up to us, as their teachers and parents and caregivers, to be observant, educated, and aware of the signs. And to offer support and help.

Read more about my motions here: https://bonniestone.blogspot.com/2016/04/once-upon-time.html

My next post will address hearing friendly classrooms and schools.

Until then, hear well, my friends.

When There's Just Too Much Noise...

Recently, I was once again assessing my first graders on their sight word list. It's something I perform each month to measure their reading growth. Mini-mic positioned onto their shirt collars, I attempt to test individual children while the rest of the class is engaged in at least a semi-quiet activity.

It doesn't always go as planned.

Most of the time, there's just too much noise to hear the child who is reading effectively enough to get an accurate score. I have to settle for something close, if not exact.

I resort to lip reading, I confess. "Say that again," I repeat over and over again, watching them form the sounds of the letters on their lips. Sometimes when I ask them to repeat the word, a child will think it's because they missed it. Then I watch them search their brain for a reason as to why they missed it. I am constantly reassuring them that I just couldn't hear them well enough to know if they said the word or not.

In between the "Say it again" and the "Use it in a sentence" and the "One more time", I am shushing the rest of the class continually. First graders make a lot of noise, no matter what they are doing. And that noise often makes it near impossible to work with children individually.

Added to the mix is my student teacher. She is guiding some students in completing a math lesson while I test a few more students and my CI picks her voice up louder than my reader. I reduce my sensitivity settings hoping that will help. The difference is negligible, so I quietly slip the CI magnet from my head, disengaging the sound as I do so. Then maybe I can focus on the sound being piped from the mini-mic into my hearing aid. It doesn't really help. There's just too much noise.

So I do the only thing I can think to do at the moment. I tell her to finish the assessments.

She is done in record time.

Happy New Hearing Year

It's a new year. And with it come all the resolutions for losing weight, eating healthy, working out -- Like everyone else, I am vowing to continue eating well and losing weight. I've lost 22 lbs already, gaining only a couple of pounds back from holiday R & R

I confess, losing my hearing thrust me into several years of comfort eating that packed over 60 lbs. onto my body. Not gonna tell you I felt bad about it, just that I needed it at the time. But it has wreaked havoc on my body.

That excessive weight took a toll on my overall health -- none of which is good for my hearing health either. High blood pressure. Obesity palpitations. High cholesterol and triglycerides. Deep vein thrombosis and circulatory issues. Reflux disease. And the latest affliction -- early onset cataracts. Yea, me!

So like many others, I too, am planning on a healthier new year. But more than that. I am planning on a healthier hearing health, too. And I hope you do too. Here are some things you can do to make your new year hearing healthier:

Number 1: Get a baseline audiogram and hearing checkup. Everyone should know what they are hearing -- or not hearing. It's simple. Like your eyes and teeth, bones and boobs, your ears need a regular checkup, too. So get it scheduled.

Number 2: Be hearing aware. Your environment is the leading cause of hearing loss and deafness. Educate yourself and your children. Limit ear bud and headphone use. Turn down the volume of TVs, radios, and MP3 devices. Wear hearing protection in noisy workplaces and even at home when using mowers, vacuums, and other loud appliances. Remember to use hearing protection in sports stadiums and arenas, too! And those rock-and-roll concerts?! Well, enough said.

Number 3: Beware ototoxic drugs. Those ibuprofen and acetaminophen tabs you take for headaches can damage the fine hearing cells in your cochlea and cause tinnitus. Ask your doctor or pharmacist if the drugs you are prescribed are ototoxic, and if they are, ask about a safer alternative. And be aware that many supplements and "natural" products, such as tea tree oil, can cause tinnitus and hearing loss, too. Once the sensory cells in your cochlea are damaged, they will not regenerate. Here is a link to check out. http://hlaa-sbc.org/wp-content/uploads/2013/11/Ototoxic_Brochure.pdf

Number 4: Get healthy all over. Like me, overall health plays a role in hearing loss. Smoking, diabetes, high blood pressure, sedentary lifestyle, diet, obesity, and stress can affect your hearing health. Get healthy. And stay that way.

Number 5: Be educated. And be sensitive. Hearing loss is a silent disability - no pun intended. It is not easily seen or known by casual interactions, and therefore, it is often overlooked or dismissed as something else. Those with hearing loss are not dumb or helpless. And it is no laughing matter, so save your jokes about hearing loss just as you would any other disability or illness.

Hearing loss isn't always preventable. But there are things you can do to protect your hearing. Be proactive in taking the steps to living a more hearing healthy life. You won't regret it.

Here's to better hearing for all!

Shhh. Quiet, please.

Yesterday, my first graders worked on an art project that took much longer to complete than I'd anticipated. They colored a page of patterns, then cut the pieces out and glued them to a paper sack to make a gingerbread house gift sack. It took over an hour just to color the page!

They meticulously used colored pencils and crayons to color the gumdrops and peppermint sticks, sugar candy windows and doors, and icing rooftops. They used scissors to carefully cut out the gingerbread people and candy cane trees, and then they creatively arranged and glued their pieces to their sacks.

I watched their expressions of determination and pride while they worked independently to create masterpieces that would delight themselves -- their smiles and nods and sweet expressions told me they enjoyed the task.

What I didn't anticipate was the quiet. The peaceful quiet that engulfed my room on a day when most classrooms are filled with the giddy anticipation of holiday parties and Winter Break. A day teachers have come to dread: classrooms filled with children overstimulated from holiday activities and sweets and the inevitable rowdy behavior that accompanies this day.

Instead, my classroom was filled with tranquil silence, only interrupted by an occasional cough or whisper of "Pass me the red". I relished that time. And I reflected.

My principal came by briefly, and after his initial surprise and raised eyebrows at finding a classroom where children were intently on task, he proceeded to "stir the pot" by exciting my students to tell him if they'd been naughty or nice. The silence was broken.

I thought it strange that he felt it necessary to distract my students and break the beautiful silence that we'd experienced for nearly an hour with what I thought was unnecessary silliness. But it reminded me that most people are uncomfortable with silence and think that it is merely a void that needs to be filled. We're accustomed to filling silence with idle chatter, music, TV, and other background noise. We somehow equate fun with noise and boredom with silence. Those perceptions are neither true nor appropriate.

I never realized how nice silence can be until I was forced to endure it when I lost my hearing. Being unable to hear made me come to peace with the quiet -- uneasy at first, but now I know how necessary it is. Not just for me. It is necessary for everyone. It brings calm and peace and important health benefits, as well. I admit that I look forward to taking my hearing devices off at night so I can turn the noisy world off.

In the silence of my classroom yesterday, my students experienced engagement, creativity, accomplishment, and pride. They didn't need conversation, background music, or other noisy-ness to fill a void because there was nothing to fill. Silence is not a void. It is not awkward. It is not weird. It is not uncomfortable.

It is beautiful, friends. Make peace with it.

Squirrels and Tails

Today I found a squirrel tail on the walking path at my school during my first graders' recess. It was just lying there in the middle of the path. The wind blowing through the fur made it look as though it was breathing. For a moment, I thought maybe I'd mistaken it for a muskrat or other small animal. So I kicked it with the toe of my shoe. Yep. A tail. A squirrel tail.

I used the walkie talkie teachers use when on the playground in case of an emergency to call the office. "Office?" I said. "This is Mrs. Stone on the playground. We need a clean-up on the playground. There's a squirrel tail on the walking path."

"A WHAT?" our office clerk inquired.

"A squirrel tail. On the path."

"Is it dead?!

"I'm assuming. It's just a tail," I answered. "I don't think a tail is living."

Several giggles ensued before the custodian was dispatched. I wouldn't want her job.

After it was disposed of, I circled the big toy and the monkey bars to make sure the rest of the poor creature's carcass wasn't lying within reach of my students. (Envisioning brave souls terrorizing fearful souls with it...) I assume the squirrel probably scampered away into a tree where it safely watched us scoop up its tail and throw it away.

The questions ensuing this unusual find included whether a squirrel could even live without it's tail (Yes, it can) or could it regrow another one (No, it can't). A simple Google search.

You see, there's a certain amount of resilience that living things possess in order to survive. Apparently, a squirrel may lose its tail as it escapes from a predator or gets caught in a trap and still survive. Though it has to adapt to life without a tail, like a chipmunk, per se, it can continue to function fairly normally as a tail-less squirrel, even if not by choice.

Resilience. The ability to adapt to life's tasks and continue in the face of adversity. Like losing your hearing. Or your tail.

We can learn a lot from a squirrel.

Revelation

There are so many things one never even thinks about until they are gone. Hearing loss seeps into every facet of your life. Places you didn't even know existed -- until your hearing loss reveals them.

A friend recently had her cochlear implant activated. She's in her 80's. Family and friends who encouraged her to get the implant worry that she will have a hard time adjusting to it. "She's 84, you know," they say. She lives alone and, like her family, she fears that being unable to hear has affected her independence, her safety, and her well-being.

I have written before of the irrational fear that creeps in when I am alone in my house. Being unable to hear a simple knock on the door or identify a strange, muffled sound can be unnerving --how opening a dishwasher while it is running or turning the key again when the car is already on or not knowing that your smoke alarm is chirping or that your alarm clock is buzzing or that you've accidentally left a radio on, answering questions wrongly, missing conversations, and telephone calls -- even walking "blissfully unaware" in a crowd of people who've repeatedly tried to excuse themselves to walk past you and consider you rude -- all of the things that have become embarrassingly routine for you because you cannot hear them anymore. I told her son-in-law to keep encouraging her as she enters this new phase of hearing -- mostly because I know how important hearing independence can be. And I know that even if she never perceives speech, she will most certainly perceive environmental sounds. And that alone will bring her relief.

"I never thought of it like that," a friend who was listening nearby remarked. "Like how just hearing all the things in your home can make you feel secure. But I can see that now. That's quite a revelation for me."

A revelation. Yes. Constant revelations -- constantly.

That's a perfect analogy of what living with hearing loss is like.

Number Six

This week, I sat with my team and "rebalanced" our first grade classrooms from three to four. We have too many children in our three classrooms and a new teacher will be added next week. We were tasked with choosing six students from each of our classrooms to move to the new classroom.

I'm not going to lie. My hearing loss influenced my choices.

I immediately chose a boy whose "normal" volume is a scream. My hearing aids actually whistled every time he spoke. After countless shushes, he either isn't able or isn't willing to adjust his volume. That's one.

My second choice was a proverbial "low talker". No amount of prompting could get her to raise her volume. Even if I increased my hearing aid volume, her little voice escaped my perception. The frustration was great. For both of us. She had to go. Two.

My third and fourth choices included a heavy accent and baby-speech. Hearing loss affects one's comprehension. Poor articulation and accents diminish my understanding of speech even more... Three and four.

Number five is the student who interrupts every other student every single time. Repeated requests for him to stop blurting over other students have been ignored. I need to be able to hear the students I call on -- one at a time.  Five.

Six... number six is just a kid. A regular first grader. One I just had to choose to balance the other class.

I wish all of my choices could've been like six.