Jill Bianco is one tough gal. A baseball going at warp speed doesn’t faze her a bit. Jill is part of a twelve-woman baseball team, the Liberty Belles and the only deaf woman that I know who plays baseball.
Jill played fast-pitch softball for many years in every position except pitcher. She joined the Chicago Gems baseball team after responding to an ad on Craigslist. On February 12, Jill will head to Hong Kong to play in the 2009 Phoenix Cup International Women Baseball Tournament.
Being Deaf and playing ball can be tough sometimes. I face many challenges but I haven’t let them get me down, or stop me from playing the sport I truly love. I can do everything other ball players can do, both on the field and off, the only difference is that I do not hear. Baseball doesn’t require a lot of verbal communication on the field. With all the visual signs being used there isn’t much need for verbal communication. This puts every teammate on the same page, with equal access and knowledge of what to do next. I strive to show the world that a Deaf female ball player can be as good as anyone. I’d like to educate people so they understand that Deaf people aren’t what they’re stereotyped as.
As you can imagine, it isn’t cheap to head to Hong Kong and Jill isn’t going to let limited funds stop her. If you have a few dollars (or more) to spare, you can help with Jill’s dream to play baseball:
Hi everyone! I m Jill. I just got back from Hong Kong yesterday. I had a blast. We, North American Liberty Belles, won silver medal for the tournament. We lost to Japan in the Championship. I m also proud to share that I have received a huge honor of being selected as a Team Most Valuable Player (MVP) for the Liberty Belles!
Yesterday, I finally had my first mammogram. A mammogram that I had been putting off for over a year.
“Have you had your mammogram?” Jill Wood, a parent of a hard of hearing son, asked me during an IM conversation a year ago. Jill had just been diagnosed with breast cancer and was about to begin chemotherapy.
“I haven’t had one yet, but I will,” I typed back. The doctor had given me the RX for a mammogram earlier that year, but I couldn’t find the paper. I just put the procedure on the back burner.
When I received the RX again this year, I told myself that I really needed to follow through with it. So there I was yesterday, dressed in a gown and about to haul my boobs over a plastic plate to be squished.
“Just a minute,” the technician said. “I need to get the larger plate.” She replaced the regular-sized plastic plate with the larger plate.
I rolled my eyes and quickly, my thoughts went to Jill.
I gotta tell her about this, I said to myself. She would crack up at the thought of hauling out a larger plate for my anatomy.
My thoughts soon turned dark as I noticed a spot on one of the digital images that came up on the screen.
“Should I be worried?” I asked the technician.
“No, you have to wait for the doctor to review the images and they’ll call you within a week.”
I was driving home yesterday and thinking, “I gotta call Jill and talk to her.”
That night, I received a message from Barbara, another parent who knew Jill:
Hi Karen - I know you don’t read Listen-up every day but thought you would want to know that Jill Wood passed away on Friday, Dec. 26. I knew she’d taken a turn for the worse a couple of months ago but didn’t realize the extent. I’m very, very sad.
I sat there stunned. And I cried. I called Barbara for the first time and we talked. I emailed Helen, Jill’s friend and learned that Jill was doing well five days before and then took a rapid turn for the worse. The world lost a great woman, a great mom. I know I’m not alone in feeling this way because on the parent listserv where we met, many other parents felt the same way. You see, Jill was an incredible mom who greeted parent after parent on the list, sharing her thoughts, her feelings and all the things she learned throughout the years of parenting a son with progressive hearing loss. Her son sent my oldest son some Weird Al music and got him hooked on Weird Al videos as a result. So I bought a Weird Al video for Christmas last year for my oldest son and the kids just cracked up watching it.
Jill wrote with wit and wisdom and her personality shone through with every post she shared. I’m not kidding. Ask any parent on the listserv and you’ll see that this gal stood out and many learned from her.
Jill was a freelance illustrator who drew book covers. She shared some of her designs with me and I was blown away by her talent. Last October, when she first began chemotherapy, she and I wrote back and forth. She joked about doing reconstructive surgery and getting a set of perky boobs that would be the envy of everyone in the nursing home when she turned 90.
Yes, that was Jill, ever the optimist with a wisecrack. In one of her emails, she said she was off to get her “poison cocktails” and said that she was going to make her doctors insert a fancy drink umbrella on it. “At least I’ll get to catch up on some much needed sleep,” she joked about the side effects. I was about to leave for a cruise at that time, so I emailed back and said that I would have a Pina Colada in her honor, complete with an umbrella and send her a picture.
“Here’s the picture, as promised,” I wrote to her when we arrived back. I was in a swimsuit, holding a pina colada with an umbrella perched in it. ”I wouldn’t send just anyone a picture of me in a swimsuit,” I joked. “Only for you, girl.”
So as I wait for result from the mammogram, I’m going to celebrate Jill’s life and dig out the Weird Al video for our trip up to Michigan. Here’s to you, Jill.
Jill and her husband Larry, in their funny slippers
I was going through a pile of papers and the hand-written essay caught my eye. It was an essay written during my freshmen year at a local community college. I sat down to read it and was instantly transported back in time. I received an “A” on this essay, probably not so much for how it was written (because I see many mistakes and ways it could be written differently) but more for the story it shared:
Even now, seven years later, I can still remember the first time I met Mike. I was eleven years old when we drove up to our newly bought cottage. As we settled down, a slightly balding man walked over and introduced himself as Mike. That was the beginning of a special friendship that was rather slow in forming [at first].
I cannot remember much of the first four years. I was a very shy girl then, but Mike’s friendliness won me me over. I was like a turtle, coming out of my shell when Mike was around.
The shell really broke when I began to show a serious interest in [water]skiing. Mike’s son used to waterski competitevely and Mike used his knowledge to encourage me. He gave me the encouragement that I wanted so much from my own parents.
He taught me a card game called “Casino” and we spent many a time together winning and losing to each other. He was dubbed “The Champ,” and whenever I would win a game, I would [strut around and] call myself, “The Champ.” But never for long, because he would win back the title in the next game.
Mike had a great sense of humor. I always remember summers full of laughter around him. He would put on airs of a big-time gambler, strutting around wearing his favorite hat from Las Vegas. The expressions he used, his movements, never failed to bring out a laugh.
There was a serious side to him. Family bickerings always clouded his face. He never let anyone know what he was thinking or how he really felt during those days.
This summer, Mike got sick. I hardly saw him during the summer. No one knew it was serious until his son-in-law told us that Mike had cancer. I was stunned.
A few weeks after I found out, I went to see Mike in his office. I was shocked, for he had grown thin and pale. It was the first time that I realized he was not going to get better. It was the last time I saw him.
Mike died last week and I lost a very special friend. As I sat in the church at his funeral, I thought of the good times and the bad times. I replayed his smile, his laugh, and all the scenes of summer that came to my mind. One particular scene stands out:
I remember him standing under the maple tree and telling me that I was going to be the first girl to barefoot (waterski on my bare feet) on Christie Lake. I laughed at him then. Early this summer, I did it–but Mike was not around to share the glory [that first time]. When he finally came to the lake for a short visit, he sat in the boat and saw me barefoot. I’ll never forget the proud look on his face. That was the best memory Mike could have given me.
I met Susan Quandt at the SOBCon’08 in Chicago this year. During one of the breaks, we sat together and we discovered we had some things in common, including involvement with non-profit boards and fundraising for non-profits. I remember Susan’s advice vividly: “Choose your board carefully. You can’t afford to have anyone on board who isn’t a team player. Everyone has to give 110%”
Susan was excited about being filmed for the Oprah show and talked about her day spent at the Oprah show. I shared my Oprah moments with her– getting to meet Oprah after a show and thanking her for providing interpreters and the Letter to the Editor that was printed in the “O” magazine. You can view Susan on the show here: Real Life Stories of the Law of Attraction.
Later that afternoon, Susan and I ended up in the same small group reviewing commercials made using Utterli:
Every now and then, life also gives you a jewel that shines, and Susan was one of them. In the short amount of time that I spent with her, I learned that she served on several non-profits, taught at a college, managed work and a family and had several projects that she was working on at once. I remember leaving our conversation thinking, “Wow, this is a gal who has accomplished so much and really embraces life!”
I’m so sad to hear this news because I was so looking forward to meeting her again at SOBCon’09 and chatting more. My heart goes out to her family.
At the CSDVRS booth at the ALDACon, I noticed two gals moving toward me and I instantly knew who they were. I recognized Abbie from her blog, Chronicles of a Bionic Woman and Jennifer from Surround Sound. I’m pretty sure one of us squealed as we gathered in a hug.
Jennifer, Karen and Abbie
Then a short time later, I recognized another blogger who came up to the booth, LaRonda from The Ear of My Heart.
Karen and LaRonda
It was wonderful to meet all three of them and get to spend a little time together. Jennifer, Abbie and I went out to dinner but I couldn’t find LaRonda to join us and I didn’t have her pager addy. (Note to self, next time, gather that contact info before any conferences!). I would love to sit down and have lunch with LaRonda someday– I guess a trip out west is in order!
Tina Childress joined us at dinner and we went to a Japanese restaurant and filled up on sushi. Two other guys joined us, (I’ve forgotten their names already!) and I was the only one there without a cochlear implant. Not a problem, as I relied on good ‘ole lipreading and Tina jumped in to interpret whenever I got lost in the train of the conversation.
Abbie and Tina
Jennifer cracked me up when she turned to me and said, “You know, I’ve just got to tell you this. You’re so much prettier than in your pictures on the blog!”
That does it, I’ve gotta learn how to use those airbrushing tools in Photoshop.
Dennis O’Brien, past-president of West Suburban Association of the Deaf and a long-time Republican, has announced that he will be voting for Barak Obama on Tuesday. *
*This public service announcement has been an outright lie, but it sure was fun to watch him walk around the Halloween party with that announcement taped to his back.
Last night, I attended a fundraiser for Equip for Equality, a non-profit organization that provides legal assistance for people with disabilities. I attended as the guest of Patrick Hughes, owner of Inclusion Solutions who co-chaired the fundraiser. You may remember Patrick from this interview over at Diversity, Inc.: Patrick Hughes, President of Inclusion Solutions.
Before I met Patrick, I knew about Equip for Equality from my friend, Howard Rosenblum, a deaf attorney who has been with the organization since 2001. When Steak ‘n Shake denied me service in the drive-thru back in January, I asked Howard to work with me to try and change the way deaf and hard of hearing people are served in the drive-thru. We’re still working together to make changes in the drive-thrus at Steak ‘n Shake.
There’s another reason I attended the Equip for Equality fundraiser. Several years ago, when I first started up Illinois Hands & Voices, I received information about a family from Naperville who was struggling to obtain appropriate support services for their son. I met with the Abou Ezzi family and met their son Tony, who is hard of hearing. Tony was attending a local high school and had a difficult time accessing all of the communication that was going on in the classroom. Believe it or not, one of the accommodations suggested by the school was a swivel chair, so that Tony could swivel around and read his classmates lips.
I met with the family and suggested using CART (Communication Access Realtime Translation). Tony was a bit hesitant to try it. “Can you just try it for two weeks and if you don’t like it, we won’t bring it up again,” I asked him. He agreed.
I joined the family at the IEP meeting and after a lengthy discussion, the school agreed to try CART in the classroom. The very first day, Tony came home and told his mom that he had no idea he was missing so much discussion going on around him in the classes. Tony continuted to utilize CART services throughout high school and graduated with honors.
Tony became a huge advocate of CART, but found himself encountering resistance from the college he choose to attend after high school. That’s where Equip for Equality came in; they stepped up to bat and helped to make CART a reality for Tony’s college classes. Tony is now about to graduate and plans to attend law school to become an attorney.
I love Twitter. Over on Twitter, I’ve been able to network and connect with a variety of people that I probably wouldn’t have gotten to know through normal networking channels. I consider Twitter to be my virtual watercooler– I go over there to hang out during my breaks and I get to join in numerous conversations at once. In real life, I can’t duplicate that without an interpreter in front of me.
I met Barbara Desmarais on Twitter–at least I think I did. With so much online networking, it’s hard to remember how some of the Twitter relationships originate. She’s CoachBarb over there, and we struck up a few deaf-and-parenting-related conversations. I learned that she teaches sign classes for babies and she raised twins who are deaf. She is a professional Parent Coach and helps parents tackle their parenting challenges. Since I’m always curious about parents of deaf and hard of hearing children and their stories, I asked Barb if she would be willing to share her experience in a guest post.
“I’d be honored,” she said. So without further ado, here’s Barb’s story:
In June of 1984 I attended a party where there were deaf people of all ages and people who worked with Deaf/deaf and hard of hearing people. I had been working with deaf and hard-of-hearing people in a variety of capacities for about eight years. At the party, I met Serge and his five-year-old Deaf, twin sons Adrian and Roger.
Serge and I began dating about two weeks later and married the following April. A few months before marrying, I moved in with the three of them to become step-mom to Adrian and Roger. They visited their own mother every other weekend and twice a week for dinner. I didn’t have my own children at
the time and Serge and I made a decision that I would work part-time to be available for the boys when they came home from school on the days they didn’t go with their mother.
That year, Adrian and Roger began attending Jericho Hill School for the Deaf here in Vancouver, British Columbia, which was a one hour bus commute from our home. They had been attending a pre-school for the deaf for three years. Sadly, Jericho closed at the end of their eighth year so they were moved to a new school where they were mainstreamed.
Before meeting Serge, American Sign Language was already a big part of my life as I’d worked with deaf children for a number of years and had deaf friends. Adrian and Roger communicated solely through ASL. It would have made things very difficult for me had I not known their language. They are both profoundly deaf and lip read very little. My formal background is in Early Childhood Education so my experience with children gave me a bit of an edge as well, although I quickly learned that being with children almost full time was very different than being with them in a classroom.
From the beginning, Serge and I shared a very similar approach to raising children with a disability. We did not want to pity them or assume their disability would severely limit them. We disciplined them the same way we disciplined the children we had later on. We both looked at them as being the same as any other children except they used a different language. Serge had immersed himself into the deaf community and learned ASL. He could easily converse with the boys. We always made a point to include them in conversations and fill them in on interesting things we heard on the radio or in the community. I used to read to them a lot at bedtime.
We lived in a townhouse complex where there were lots of young children. Adrian and Roger played with other children in the neighborhood although they usually preferred to play with each other. They were each other’s best friend. We made an effort to organize play dates with other deaf children
from their school though so they had plenty of opportunity to interact freely with children of their own age.
In June, 1987 Adrian and Roger’s sister Claire was born. They were ecstatic to have a new sibling. She picked up signs right away and could communicate her needs long before she could talk. Two years later their brother Marc came along so we were now a family of 6. By then the boys were well
entrenched in their school and had many close relationships with other deaf children. Claire and Marc got very used to having deaf people around a lot as well. In the early years we had deaf babysitters for all 4 of them.
Adrian and Roger are now 29 years old and leading full, rich lives. They both have stimulating and rewarding careers and active social lives. I’m grateful I had the experience of raising them as I know it has made me a better person.
I don’t remember who suggested it first, but I found myself writing down “lunch with Amy Derby” on my calendar last week. Yesterday, I headed out to her town to pick her up.
I’m bad with directions, she wrote. You might want to Mapquest it.
I’ve got a navigator in my van, I told her. I’m sure I can find it.
I dutifully followed the directions and found myself lost. The numbers didn’t match up. Thank goodness for good ‘ole texting, as I found Amy a quarter mile away, standing on a street corner hammering away at her iPhone.
Meeting someone for the first time is often awkward, but I think Amy and I hit it off pretty quickly. For one thing, we instantly bonded over hearing aid batteries. She needed a hearing aid battery and I had a stash of different sizes in my purse. We headed over to Chilis, but because I was driving and reading lips at the same time, we ended up in the Baker’s Square parking lot. Neither of us noticed, until we swung open the doors and saw a showcase of pies facing us. We laughed, and walked next door to Chilis.
It was heaven to connect with another writer and talk about the daily stuff that’s involved with churning out words. Heaven to bounce ideas off of someone who could give an honest answer (even if it was, “I don’t know”). And boy, was it fun to talk about all the people we know on the ‘net and how we got to know them.
So, if you don’t know Amy Derby, head on over to her blog, Write From Home and take a moment to get to know this sassy, talented writer.
I recently had the opportunity to chat with D-Pan founder, Sean Forbes, via videophone. D-Pan is a company that produces popular music videos signed in American Sign Language. Sean became deaf at the age of one from spinal meningitis. The son of two musicians, Sean was the only one of his two brothers to pursue a career in the music field. Sean grew up in the mainstream and learned American Sign Language as a young adult.
Signing Songs: The Making of D-PAN Music Videos (Mini-Documentary)
Special Features & More!
All of the videos are closed captioned and subtitled on the DVD. Each of the D-PAN performers receive a royalty based on sales revenue. All of the sales from the music videos will fund upcoming projects.
As a special to the readers of A Deaf Mom Shares Her World, Sean is giving away a free copy of the D-Pan, It’s Everybody’s Music DVD. Everyone who leaves a comment below will be entered into the free give away. The deadline for this is Monday, September 22 at midnight. The winner will be chosen by Random.org. You must enter your email in the field (email will not be shown) and the winner will be notified on Tuesday. D-Pan will send the DVD directly to the winner.