What’s so special about MSD?

Photo-0043I often mention MSD, either in person or online. It’s MSD this, MSD that. When the old school building was torn down because a new school building had opened, I expressed sadness about the loss of the old school building. When a friend from MSD lost her son in early June, I fell to pieces over it. Jimmy Glover died at the end of July, and though I hadn’t talked to him in twenty years, I felt moved to post something about him on Facebook. Most recently, I stated that I want to see my friends from MSD before the year is over.

MSD–or Michigan School for the Deaf, if you got enough wind in your lungs to say the whole thing every time–is the primary school for the deaf in Michigan. There are other schools where the deaf are taught, but from what I gather, they are regular public schools where the majority of students are hearing.

I’m trying to write something meaningful here, something that will properly convey why MSD is special, but I fear I’m not a good enough writer to do MSD the justice it deserves. But I’ll give it my best shot.

Every former MSDer I know still looks on MSD with fondness. The place was more than just a school for most of us. It was a home. We lived five days a week there and went home for the weekends.  Some of the students had attended the school, living in the dorm, since they started kindergarten. Others joined the school in later elementary grades, or junior high and high school. Many were transferred from Dearborn and Detroit schools where there were programs for deaf and hard of hearing students.

But wherever they came from and whenever they enrolled at MSD, most of them already knew each other. They had attended camps for the deaf and other deaf events since early childhood. American Sign Language was their first language. Most of them could talk using their voices if they had to, but many preferred not to. Some were completely deaf. Some were deaf, but did have a little bit of hearing. And some were hard of hearing, like me. But whatever category you put them in, MSD was like a comfort zone for them, a place for them to be with others who were like them.

At MSD, no one had to explain that they couldn’t hear you. Everyone got it. So, that was one frustration we didn’t have to deal with. Several teachers and staff were also deaf, and those who weren’t deaf were understanding of the students’ needs.

I don’t want to turn this into a rant about my experiences at the Lapeer public schools I’d attended, so I’m going to try to be brief about it. I mean, it wasn’t always bad. There were some good times. There were students who I got along with and there were teachers who were patient and understanding. But on the flip side, there were many very stressful and humiliating situations.

It wasn’t so bad in elementary school, but it really took a nosedive in junior high and it only got worse when I started high school. I wouldn’t say it was all because I couldn’t hear very well. My twin brother is also hard of hearing and he did all right in the public schools. But me, I was depressed all the time. I was terrified in school. When I got home after school, I’d go straight up to my room and spend the whole day watching TV or reading. I did not have a social life.

My freshman year ended. I had my summer vacation and shortly before school started back up, the depression and fear returned. I did not want to go back. I think it was my mom who suggested I enroll in MSD instead. But wherever the idea came from, once it was in my head, I was all for it.

I had been to MSD several times before, to see Betty Brown, have my hearing tested and get new hearing aids set up, but I had never thought I’d actually be a student there before my sophomore year. But once the idea was in my head, I was hellbent on making it happen. I felt that MSD was the change I needed.

It took some time, though. We had to go through a few different meetings with the Lapeer Board of Education. School had already started, but I wasn’t attending yet. Some of the people at the meetings did not think MSD was the right place for me. But finally, about a month after school had already started, I was cleared to go.

I didn’t know sign language when I first started at MSD, but there was Tina Takacs, Margaret Barker and sometimes Marilyn Belsky who put in the effort to teach me, and there were students who showed me signs. I learned sign language and improved, but I was always pretty much in the beginner’s stage.

I’d be lying if I said MSD was a hundred-percent positive experience for me. Sure, there were plenty of negative experiences. I was still a shy, awkward guy who didn’t talk much. I still had nervous issues and I’d get depressed at times, and I didn’t quite know how to fit in. I still had many of the same issues I’d had at the Lapeer public schools. However, at MSD, there were far more positive experiences than negative experiences. I was actually happy there and living in the dorm allowed me to have a social life.

As I learned more about deaf culture, I began to see myself in a more positive light. I learned that being deaf or hard of hearing does not mean one is impaired. I learned that deaf people do not see themselves that way and I wanted to think the way they do.

Going to MSD is one of the best things I’ve ever done. It really turned my life around. I’m still in touch with friends from there. I wish I could see them in person on a regular basis, but they all live in different parts of the state and it’s hard for me to get around and see them. But we keep in touch on Facebook.

For Joshua’s Mom

One of my best friends had the funeral for her son today. I’ve had it on my mind all day. I love you, Brooke. I know it’s going to be hard for you and your family, but I hope everything works out somehow.

And I wrote this song:

The moment I heard the news,
My heart broke and tears flowed.
I couldn’t understand how this happened.
Something isn’t right in the world.

I asked God, “What is it with you?”
“Why would you do this?”

I guess He has His reasons.
He’s always got some plan.
Though it makes no sense to us,
We’ll all figure it out some day.

I know it feels unfair.
I remember how excited you were
And we were all suggesting names.
Then came the day your son was born.

There was no doubt that he was special
Everyone could see that he had spirit.
The way he was always smiling,
We knew he was happy and loved.

I wish there was more I could do.
I know you have a hard road ahead.
There’s a lot to tunnel through,
But light can be found at the end.

Zero-turn Mowing and Ribeye Steak

My dad talked me into mowing his lawn today, with his zero-turn lawnmower, which I have never operated before. Zero-turn lawnmowers do not have steering wheels. Instead there are two bars in front of you. You push the left bar to turn right and you push the right bar to turn left. Heh! How does anyone keep an arrangement like that straight? On top of that, they are freaking fast lawnmowers. I almost ran into a tree and the natural gas tank, and I quickly decided I wasn’t going to mow within fifteen feet of the pond.

Afterward, we went to Apollo Family Restaurant (Davison, MI) where we both had ribeye steak.

The Essential W. P. Kinsella

untitledProbably everyone has seen the 1989 movie Field of Dreams, starring Kevin Costner, Amy Madigan, Gaby Hoffman, Ray Liotta and James Earl Jones. To me, Field of Dreams is one of the most powerful movies ever made. W.P. Kinsella wrote the novel Field of Dreams is based on. That novel is Shoeless Joe, which I read and reviewed last year. I love the book as much as I love the movie.

Shoeless Joe is Kinsella’s best known work, but he has written six other novels and, I hear, over two hundred short stories. The Essential W. P. Kinsella was released from Tachyon Publications in March. It’s four hundred pages of some of Kinsella’s best short stories.

Much of Kinsella’s work combines baseball and magic, as is the case with some of the stories in The Essential, but magic isn’t present in all of these stories and neither is baseball. Nonetheless, they are all magical in their own way.

Some of the stories were joyful and some were sad, all of them were convincing. Some took me through the struggles of minor league players hanging in there, trying to stay out of trouble, while waiting or hoping for the day they are called up to the Bigs. And there was a story about two retired Major League players living together in an apartment, one of them reuniting with his loved ones who died years ago.

And there were stories about divorced men finding love again. One such story ended on a sad note and was dedicated to Kinsella’s wife who died in 2012. I felt his pain while reading that one.

Kinsella has a gift for getting emotions across in his writing and every one of these stories, no matter the subject, was rich with emotions. I loved them all.

Revving the Engine

I got a list of ideas for short stories that I’m going to start working my way down tomorrow. I’m pretty excited about the first story on the list. I’d start today, but I like to do other things on Saturdays and Sundays. I’ll probably see about getting over to my mom and dad’s house in a little while, or I might start burning the yard waste in the backyard if it’s not too windy.

Yesterday

The White Sox beat the hell out of the Tigers yesterday and then the Red Wings got their asses kicked. But it was a good day. Spent the day at Mom and Dad’s. My brother brought over his girlfriend and we spent a lot of time up in the bar singing karaoke. For the first time, I actually worked up the nerve to sing karaoke. I sang Bon Jovi’s Blaze of Glory and Breaking Benjamin’s Blow Me Away. Well, sort of. I know both songs very well, but a lot of lines slipped my mind while trying to sing yesterday. I probably sounded like I had a dried up frog in my mouth too. But it was fun.

Agents Queried

I spent the week querying agents for Novel #1, which I finished last year. There’s a list of agents and agencies on querytracker.net and I covered the entire list. There are over a thousand agents on this list, but only 81 of them were right for me and this novel. If just one of these agents offers to represent me, that would be great, but it’s very likely that none of them will. If that’s the case, I’ll try to win them over with the next book,

I’m going to relax for the rest of week and let my brain grow back. I’ll start writing short stories next week.

Disturbance

Normally I don’t complain when Jehovah’s Witnesses turn up at my door, but this morning I really wasn’t in the mood to be disturbed. When Luci started barking, my first response was to tell her to be quiet. But when she wouldn’t stop, I got up to see what the deal was. “Oh, God,” I said when I saw the white SUV and two women dressed generations out-of-date. Of course I opened the door and said “Thanks.” when I was handed the little brochure, but as soon as I closed the door I tore that brochure up and dropped it in the garbage.

Thank you very much for breaking my concentration, ladies. And no, I’m not going to join your Kingdom Hall.

But they are not the reason I didn’t get 2,000 words today.

The Borrowers, by Mary Norton

untitledI was introduced to the Borrowers some years ago when I saw the movie, the one where John Goodman plays the villain. I liked the movie and thought I should give the book a read, though it took me a while to get around to it. As is usually the case, the book is not quite like the movie.

The Borrowers, by Mary Norton, is a fun children’s book about tiny people living  under the kitchen floor of a great big house.. It’s never specified when the story is taking place, but I think it’s set around the early 1900s, in England.

Only one family of Borrowers is left in the big house owned by Aunt Sophy. The rest of the Borrower families have moved out for one reason or another and have not been heard from since. Though Arrietty, her mother Homily and her father Pod convince themselves that there are many more Borrowers in the world, they might well be the last of the Borrowers. Arrietty meets Sophy’s nephew, the Boy, and the Boy offers to help her find other Borrowers, if they can be found. Among other things.

Branch, by Gustavo Bondoni

branch1Branch, by Gustavo Bondoni, is a novella about the discovery of a new human species. They look and behave like the rest of us, but they’re not quite like us. The biggest difference is that our species and theirs cannot breed.

So, there is a team of scientists working in India, at the village where this new species lives. Most of the scientists are good, decent and sensible people, but one of them is a royal pain in the ass.

When India’s soldiers move to the village to assure the safety and secrecy of the villagers, everything is peachy until the doctor with the bad attitude decides to spread the word about the villagers being different from the rest of the human race. The news spreads around the world and soon there are thousands of bigots who think the world would be better off if this new branch of the human race is eliminated, in the name of God, of course.

A fun read. Some bits stirred my emotions.  Bondoni did it right.