What is Language Deprivation?
Language Deprivation is a new concept to me. I learned about it from a deaf woman named Sondra, who has worked in the field of special education and counseling for many years of her career. She has taught ASL (American Sign Language) to many age groups, even elderly people who have been deaf all of their lives and never learned to sign. Plus she founded a summer camp for deaf children and their families to help bridge the gap between generations of hearing and deaf family members. Sondra is dedicated to the deaf community and especially to improving communication.
Language Deprivation Syndrome is the term used to describe some developmental problems that occur for the deaf when they aren’t exposed to the spoken word (or natural language) early in life. The critical period for language development is generally considered to be between birth and 3–5 years of age. Without this exposure to normal language deaf children can be impacted in many ways causing these problems (according to experts on deaf culture):
- Cognitive delays
- Mental health difficulties
- Lower quality of life
- Higher level of trauma
- Limited health literacy
- Difficulty developing a sense of self
- Disconnection with cultural roots and identity
- Difficulty forming connections and relationships
- Difficulty with planning and time management
There is an uncanny similarity to language development in children with autism. The NeuroDiverse can hear, but their autism may prevent them from processing the meaning of what they hear. Because of Alexithymia which leads to Mind Blindness and Context Blindness, those with Autism develop Empathy Dysfunction (EmD). As a result the NeuroDiverse develop a type of Language Deprivation Syndrome too.
My new friend Sondra advocates for teaching deaf children ASL as soon as possible to mitigate Language Deprivation Syndrome. At least sign language promotes language acquisition and interpersonal communication. However, as I have often written interpersonal communication is more than words. Sondra’s life experiences are a case in point.
Empathy is More Than Words.
Although Sondra is deaf, she has a cochlear implant that allows her to hear spoken word. She still has to read lips and to sign to complete the communication, but she doesn’t have as much of a disadvantage as those without cochlear implants. When we first met I was utterly amazed at her and kindness and compassion — and yet I could see her limitations too.
For example, the first time we met I had invited a few friends to my house to play dominoes. Sondra was a houseguest of another person. When asked if my friend could bring her to the party, I said, “Of course. The more the merrier!”
I quickly learned that I needed to speak face-to-face with Sondra. She encouraged me to do so. She informed me that even though she could hear me speak, she still needed to read my lips to some extent. This was one of my first lessons that cochlear implants don’t convey all of the information that a deaf person needs to recognize language.
As we were wrapping up our third round of dominoes, Sondra asked “What’s that sound? What’s that buzzing sound in the background?” She screwed up her face in an expression of displeasure at the disruptive sound. Immediately I realized that her cochlear implants could not help her brain recognize that the unpleasant sound was music that I had playing softly in the background. Earlier in the day, as I prepped food for the party, I had been dancing to my music before the guests arrived. But as they arrived, I turned the music down a bit to encourage conversation, as a hearing person might do. Unfortunately for my deaf guest, she could not recognize nor appreciate the music. In fact she reported to me that she thought I had left the TV on, so she didn’t even recognize the sound as music.
Sondra tells me that when she was a child she was ridiculed and chastised by her family when she tried to sing at church. She was told she sang “off key.” This is not surprising considering she was deaf from the age of about five. But how heartbreaking to tell a child she can’t sing at church, when singing brings so much joy to a human being.
However, singing “off key” is not the only dilemma Sondra faces. Sondra admitted to me that she doesn’t even know what it means to sing “off key.” If you have normal hearing you don’t have to be a professional musician to know when a voice is true and melodic as opposed to “off key.” But if you are deaf you may never have heard or thought about the harmonics such as overtones and undertones that contribute to the sound of the music (either vocal or instrumental). If you can’t hear those harmonics you may sing “off key” with no awareness of what others are noticing or appreciating in the music.
Think about the social disadvantages for deaf people when they cannot resonate with dinner music, or enjoy the community of singing with others at church. But beyond music, think about the myriad other ways we communicate that do not require face to face interaction. For example, If you have normal hearing, you listen for the breath as the speaker pauses. In another example, the speaker may tilt their head away from the group ever so slightly, say a word quietly for emphasis and then turn back to finish their sentence. What if your listener cannot hear the breath or the see the lips move for the word spoken quietly?
I have noticed that Sondra looks at me intently as I speak, reading my lips. While I can give her the time to comprehend what I am saying, I can also get frustrated when she doesn’t “listen” to me. For example, I often have to correct her assumptions about what I just said. I feel badly when I have to interrupt her because she has misunderstood me and is going down a “blind alley” with our conversation.
In fact, we seem to do better with texting. Visual emojis and memes are easier to interpret than the subtle nuances of normal vocal communication. Still, as intellectually satisfying as our conversations can be, there is something subtle that is missing. It is the empathic flow that you feel when you are in sync with another person. Sondra is brilliant, kind and compassionate. She is dedicated to improving the lives of others. I have come to appreciate her expertise in the deaf community. But I also recognize that she misses a tiny little part of me — the part that freely uses my authentic voice without reservation.
The deaf world of the NeuroDiverse.
Like the deaf, NeuroDiverse individuals have a type of language deprivation that profoundly affects their development and their interpersonal relationships. Even though they hear the words being spoken, the autistic brain doesn’t always interpret the meaning correctly. As you can imagine, over a lifetime of mis-processing language, Autists have created a whole host of misunderstandings.
One day when I was trying to cut through a misunderstanding with Sondra, she complained, “It would be a lot easier if you would just say what you mean!” Wow! I have heard that complaint before from many a NeuroDiverse person. Nevertheless I self-corrected and got to the bottom line to make it easier for her to understand me.
The next words from Sondra were even more mind-blowing. She said, “We in the deaf community have a way of describing you people in the hearing world.” I was curious so I asked her to tell me what that was.
Sondra said, “You hearing folks beat around the bush. Why don’t you just get to the point without all of the extra words?”
I have heard this complaint from Autists time and time again. In fact, my ASD daughter Bianca once asked me “Mom, why don’t people say what they mean?” Often those on the Autism Spectrum tell me that they get lost in the “Fluff”, or the “Confetti” or the “back story” of their NT loved ones because they do not recognize the flow of empathic conversation.
Since Sondra had cast me into the pot with all of the other confusing hearing folks she has met, it didn’t surprise me when she could not understand the basis of the Empathy Triad, and instead asked me to be “direct” and stop beating around the bush. I didn’t get far explaining empathy to her, though I made a valiant effort.
I explained that all of those “extra words,” all of the “fluff” is an offer to join the NT speaker in their vision of reality. The words are painting a picture for the other person of who the speaker is. Yes the topic of conversation is important too, but the speaker needs to be affirmed as valuable enough to share a moment of time.
Furthermore the Empathy Triad Sensitive speaker is casting out words and gestures to connect with the other person too. They aren’t just talking about themselves, but seeking to connect with the other person in ways that affirm the listener too.
In other words the Empathy Triad includes Empathy, Context and Conversation. However, the concept of the Empathy Triad is foreign to Sondra just as it is to the NeuroDiverse. Both want the NT/hearing speaker to get to the point, without embellishment — and to get to a point that the deaf and NeuroDiverse person can relate to. If not, the conversation is over.
Seeing and Hearing are necessary for the Empathy Triad.
Sondra tells me that she moves “seamlessly” between the hearing world and the deaf world, because of her cochlear implant. However dedicated and kind she is to the deaf clients she serves, and to their hearing families, she does not move “seamlessly.” She clearly misses the subtleties that the hearing/NT world relies upon to communicate and to connect. Through no fault of her own, she has never learned that not all background noise is unnecessary static.
Sondra is fluent in ASL (American Sign Language) and she is a good lip-reader too. Her hearing is limited by the mechanics of a cochlear implant and how much her brain can interpret those sounds. Of these three tools that Sondra uses to “listen,” the visual tools are the most important to her.
For example, Sondra cannot understand more than one speaker at a time, if she cannot see their faces and read their lips. As we learned earlier, she could not distinguish between back ground music and the static of TV turned low. She also mistakes a wry look as sarcastic because she is not able to hear a tonal change indicating that the speaker is telling an amusing anecdote.
So how is this similar to the NeuroDiverse? ASL and lip reading are visual forms of communication. Autists rely on visual language too. As Temple Grandin is fond of saying, she thinks in pictures. While the visual is a rich medium for all human beings, it can’t make up for the emotional power of sound. For the hearing and the NeuroTypical both are vital to our most precious relationships.
How many times have I heard from my NT clients and readers that they wish their ASD loved ones would “listen” to them? For NTs what it means to “listen” is to actually “get” the person who is speaking. They want to be known, understood, accepted, appreciated for more than their words. How the NT speaks, both through verbal and nonverbal auditory cues conveys who they are. When the deaf or the NeuroDiverse fail to acknowledge these cues, it can spell disaster for the relationship.
Work arounds for NeuroDivergent relationships.
Seeing and hearing are necessary for the Empathy Triad to be complete. But all need not be lost if we can learn to be compassionate with each other. I developed the 7-Step Interface Protocol to help mitigate the problems of Empathy Dysfunction that we see with the NeuroDiverse. And I don’t see why it can’t also be used to communicate with the deaf, who may have a similar Empathy Dysfunction.
I explain the 7-Step Interface Protocol in my book, “Empathy is More Than Words – Groundbreaking tools for NeuroDivergent Relationships” (2022). Let me briefly summarize the steps for you here:
- Resilience – develop your ability to bounce back from confounding conversations.
- Accept the diagnosis – whether it is deafness or NeuroDiversity, these are disabilities and should be accounted for.
- Empathy Triad – use the Empathy Triad to create connection, but if you can’t, follow the next few steps.
- Be brave – it takes courage to hang in their when the conversation goes sideways. Don’t give up.
- Take Breaks – as the pressure mounts, tempers can flare. Take a break from the action rather than hurt each other.
- Work Arounds – use alternative methods of communication to work around the Empathy Dysfunction of the deaf and NeuroDiverse.
- Apologize – when conflict arises, forgiveness goes a long way. Apologize, or take responsibility for your part in the mix-up.
