Celebrities
Embracing Motherhood in Silence: A Deaf Perspective
In her memoir, Sara Nović shares her journey through deafness, beginning at age 12 with the gradual loss of sounds, and explores the complexities of communication and connection as a mother.
Sara Nović's Journey to Embrace Her Identities
At just twelve years old, Sara Nović experienced the gradual loss of her hearing—a sensory shift that began with the whisper of wind and the drip of a faucet, eventually erasing sounds that carried meaning, like certain consonants. In her memoir, Nović poignantly asks, “What is a mother tongue, and how do you get one? What if your mother has no tongue? What if you have no mother?” These questions capture the essence of her struggle not just with her disability but with the very nature of communication and identity.
For a significant part of her early life, Nović concealed her deafness and queerness, a reflex shaped by societal pressures. However, a transformative experience inspired her to embrace both her embodiment of Deafness and its associated community, framing it as a political act. The central theme of her memoir appears to be an urgent call to recognize and celebrate diversity instead of suppressing it. Within its pages, she addresses historical injustices faced by the Deaf community, including the legacy of Alexander Graham Bell and the detrimental Oralist movement rooted in a racist and nationalist ideology. Nović critiques the systemic threats to Deaf culture, like the closure of specialized schools and the marginalization of American Sign Language (ASL) in favor of cochlear implants, voicing concerns that all too often go unheard.
The book is also a rich tapestry of familial love. It chronicles her journey into motherhood, featuring deeply personal moments like her sleepless nights tending to her newborn son S and singing a familiar tune to soothe him. It concludes on a tender note as she recounts adopting K, her second son, from an orphanage in Thailand—the moment he learns to sign is positively illuminating. This intersection of disability, queerness, and motherhood frames Nović’s narrative not just as a memoir, but as a manifesto that challenges readers to navigate the complexities of identity and acceptance.
The Importance of Motherhood in Nović's Narrative
Nović doesn't shy away from the intimacies of parenting. She reflects on how writing originally began as a series of letters to her sons, but evolved into a broader exploration of identity, demonstrating that the personal and the political are intertwined. “Intimacy is an overlooked component of a manifesto,” she asserts, emphasizing that emotional specificity carries the weight of a manifesto’s power just as effectively as grand political arguments do.
This intermingling of personal experiences and broader social insights challenges preconceived notions about what constitutes advocacy. Nović’s candid discussion about the fatigue of hiding her disability speaks to a broader truth for many—that the pressure to “pass” in society is not only exhausting but suffocating, draining the spirit rather than empowering it. Her children catalyzed a pivotal shift in her approach to self-acceptance. The demands of motherhood stripped away the energy for pretense, allowing her to embrace her authentic self more fully.
A Legacy of Resistance and Identity
Nović deftly examines the oppressive legacies that shaped Deaf education and broader societal attitudes towards disability. She exposes Bell’s eugenic ideologies, critiquing how his influence persists in contemporary practices that marginalize rather than empower Deaf individuals. By confronting this disturbing history, she kindles a conversation about dismantling the myths surrounding figures like Bell, who are often lauded without critical examination.
As Nović navigates her own experience while advocating for the Deaf community, she sheds light on the larger societal challenges that arise from ignorance and systemic bias. Her narrative drives home the crucial reality for many Deaf individuals: Trust in the medical system is frayed, primarily due to an environment that consistently fails to accommodate their needs.
In her memoir, Nović crafts a compelling message that insists on the importance of visibility and representation. Her experiences as a Deaf mother remind us that the work of advocacy also takes place in the realm of everyday life—whether that’s in hospitals or schools, and certainly within the very intimacy of the home.
For those immersed in these discussions, Nović’s reflections are potent reminders of how interconnected identities contribute to a richer understanding of human experience. Her book is more than a memoir; it’s a clarion call for recognition and respect for diverse identities.