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by SWPoet Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Assignment · Other · #1560205
Pt. 1 Epiphany, Pt. 2. Deaf or Blind exercise
Lesson 3, Part 1  Epiphany

Story example:
 The Compassion Project  Open in new Window. (13+)
If you could read one's mind legally, would you? What if the tables were turned?
#1559279 by SWPoet Author IconMail Icon


In this story, a researcher uses her own procedure normally used on those who are unable to communicate to help their family understand them and instead records her boyfriend's dreams to find out about his past or inner dialogue.  She involves a student of hers in the deception but he has his own little deception, not to mention the fact that he is trying to get her to see that she could be stepping into hot water, not just ethically but in her own relationship, by what she is doing.  By going the route she has chosen, the main character, Emma, literally "gets what she asked for" by learning far more than she bargained for about a person and has now to figure out how much one's inner dialogue and past experiences really predict what kind of person they will be, what kind of father they will be someday.  This epiphany or realization that she really cannot predict these things has led her decide that, perhaps, she should try the old fashioned way of getting to know someone instead of the unethical way she went about it at the beginning.  While there is a lesson there, I hope it is subtle and leaves you wondering if she really has learned her lesson.


Lesson 3, Part 2 (Blind/deaf exercise)

Mapping my four year old son by touch and sound, by tickles, whispers, snuggles, and a few giggles, was like feeling rain for the first time without the need to cover my head or run, feeling my hair become drenched and not caring how it looks, feeling the cool, heavy soaking of cloth and standing there, unwilling to be scared away by a sudden bath and runny eyeliner.  It was feeling the sun on my face after weeks in the Pacific Northwest where seeing the sun is a far cry from actually experiencing its warmth.  Yesterday, I let my little guy sit in my lap while we watched television, bodies still, ears listening to the speakers, with me stroking his light brown hair, watching him squirm and wiggle then enticing him to stay on the couch for family time while he had his eye on the ball or truck in the corner of the room.  This is a typical “family night” and is already a valued time in our busy home.  Tonight, being blind, it was a whole new world.  We played footsie with our fingertips while I wrapped my arms around him, our hands touching. I whispered words in his ear, silly rhyming words that made no sense.  I had him giggling from his toes upward.  He had no idea my eyes were squeezed shut behind my sunglasses.  He just knew he had my undivided attention.

Feeling silly enough already, I didn’t bother to mention being blind for an hour to my family.  My seven year old said later, when I revealed the secret, “oh, so that’s why you were bumping into walls.  But Mommy, sometimes you do that anyway.”  He and I share the klutz gene, my sweet, sweet seven year old who has had three sets of stitches in his forehead before the age of five from walking a straight line?  So, while being temporarily and voluntarily blind, I was on the couch with my husband and both boys, “watching” American Idol.  I learned my four year old likes silly rhymes whispered in his ear, a light touch on the neck sends him to a frenzied giggle-fit.  He loves to play finger wars without words to narrate the experience.  We even tried a game of couch Twister.  As I patted my tummy and rubbed his head, he patted his tummy and stretched his little fingers up to rub my head.  My seven-year-old and husband were trying the same thing on the opposite end of the couch. 

The boys swapped laps when the little one and the father had to take a bathroom break.  Now I had my seven-year-old, all eighty pounds and four foot five of him with size 5 ½ adult length feet, resting squarely on the couch in front of my lap and leaning back on me.  I showed him how to fingerspell his name, w-i-l-l in sign language with my eyes pasted shut behind the glasses.  Then I taught him the sign for J-a-c-k, (his brother), and “I Love You.”  I reached forward until I found some toes and popped each little one that was willing to be popped and that sent him into a giggle fit.  We were even told “Shhhh” a few times so others could hear the television that, for once, I didn’t care less if I heard or saw.  Sure, we were aware of the television, that our favorite (Kris Allen) was in the top two, but beyond that, we had some rare moments of exploration.  My four year old rarely parks on the couch more than a minute before he runs off to play, bored with the television.  He stayed, soaking in the contact and merriment for the entire hour. 

I wouldn’t give up my eyesight voluntarily, but there are times when sunglasses and squinty eyes just might allow us to learn who our children really are behind what we see them to be.  Maybe we can learn a bit about ourselves in the process. 

Brandy
5-13-09
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