During an evening lull at the Association of College Educators – Deaf and Hard of Hearing conference, I walked to the shore. Chicago lay behind me, glittering in swank neon. Lake Michigan yawned in front where bare lights limned icy black...
moreDuring an evening lull at the Association of College Educators – Deaf and Hard of Hearing conference, I walked to the shore. Chicago lay behind me, glittering in swank neon. Lake Michigan yawned in front where bare lights limned icy black water. Intuition links this imagery to the book under my arm: Glickman and Hall’s (2019) Language Deprivation and Deaf Mental Health. In it, the light of language is contrasted with an abyss without; to paraphrase Sartre, being or nothingness. This imagery skims the surface of Language Deprivation Syndrome’s (LDS) complexity. To understand this vexing issue in depth, the editors assemble experts who aim to construct an initial clinical description. Psychologists, linguists, interpreters, and program directors are joined by a historian, a lawyer, and a psychiatrist; in spite of interdisciplinarity, themes readily emerge.
LDS is a biosocial concatenation; social in etiology and bodily inscribed in maladapted neurology. LDS has diverse, idiosyncratic manifestations. It disenfranchises deaf people. Deafness and LDS overlap but are not identical. While deaf LDS is far too common, it is also preventable. LDS exists on a spectrum: Language deficits (mild) are common. Atypical language development or dysfluency (moderate) is overrepresented in deaf populations. Finally, some deaf adults are functionally alingual (severe). Absent language, these individuals lead a “dysphoric mode of existence” (Gulati, p. 36). Those affected incur unique experiential trajectories. They may undergo trauma, have comorbid disabilities, or knowledge gaps. LDS is contrasted with speech-and-language disorders, learning and intellectual disabilities, autism, aphasia, and surdophrenia. LDS often erodes deaf mental health, and mental illness is worsened by it.
For clinicians, the book is successful. It is exactingly described, richly illustrated, and rife with heart-rending examples, often set in jails, courtrooms, and institutions. Using positivist epistemology, the authors diagnose the pathology of LDS, empirically measure its outward effects, and suggest means to assuage its gravest aspects. The most impactful work characterizes LDS’ boundary-transgressing complexity and acknowledges its infuriating injustice. Here, LDS is created by inequities of socioeconomics, ineffectual governance, unethical
biases against sign languages, and bioeconomic exploitation by industry. These writers locate the problem in the system, not in the child. Insofar as the book is taken as a starting point, it is successful; however, the book’s critical shortcoming is that it does not go far enough to deracinate LDS via education.
As a critical deaf pedagogue, I am an interloper here. While the book is not explicitly for deaf educators, they are certainly in its target audience and, like clinicians, intimately involved in deaf language development. It is problematic that educators’ contributions are underrepresented. As a result, the text lacks both, a cogent theoretical framework for pedagogy and evidence- based practices linked to achievable scholastic progress. Deaf pedagogy researchers may use the text as a stepping stone to segue from LDS to research on deaf visuality, bilingualism, translanguaging, and multimodality—educational themes that appear without integration. To this end, future studies may ask: How does LDS shape cognitive development? What role does socioemotional dysregulation play in scholastic develop- ment? What teaching methods reduce the harm done to deaf LDS children? What strategies exist for Individualized Education Plans?
Glickman and Hall comprehensively describe LDS as a problem. However, doing so underscores a regrettable theme— LDS scholarship is reaction—damage control. LDS thrives in the absence of education. Via concerted efforts, educators along with researchers, ethicists, and activists should build on this important work to construct strategies that eradicate the present epidemic’s sources and prevent future cases. Deaf educators are essential to this work. Building on Pollard’s (p. 121-1) imaginative analogy, LDS is a radical evolutionary divergence. Conceptualizing life without language is like envisioning life without carbon, or absent gravity. From this standpoint, the most dynamic explorations of this emergent field are yet to come.
Michael E. Skyer Senior Lecturer National Technical Institute for the Deaf