Celebrating sisters: Women’s History Month
As many of you know from my book Myopia, a memoir, my mother was disabled by an aneurysm at my birth. For the next few years, she was in and out of the hospital for surgeries and forced to take heavy-duty medication that left her sleepy and depressed. My sister was eight years old at the time. Some sisters would have blamed me. After all, she was only eight and very angry at the loss of the mother she had known before I was born. My mother had graduated first in her class in mathematics at the University of Pennsylvania in the 1930s. She was a brilliant and talented woman who was suddenly, overnight, no longer engaged in life. But instead of trying to get rid of me or ignore me, my sister embraced me. She turned the love my father was too busy to receive, and my...
Reflections on the Future
I never had a child of my own, so naturally, I will never have grandchildren. But I have worked with many, many children over the years. For a time, I worked in the Zero to Three Nursery at the Lexington Center in New York. We helped hearing families with deaf children, deaf parents with hearing children and deaf families with deaf children. Some of these cases were quite challenging. In certain instances, we were overjoyed with the progress our families were able to make. Most of these folks could not afford private services. Medicaid was our source of payment. Eventually, the funding was cut. They said the program was too expensive to run. There is no longer any soft place for these families to land. A young friend discovered that her young son has muscular...
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