by Stew Mosberg

Not long after the birth of their son Noah, Rachel and Nick Kapustka recognized something about him was different. But it wasn’t until he was 11 months old that they found out he was deaf.

As might be expected, their first reaction was one of “fear and grief,” says Nick. On four separate occasions, they traveled to Denver to see specialists to assess and discuss various options. Throughout the process and ever since, Kapustka proudly says, “Noah constantly reassured us that he is awesome and amazing.”

With no previous knowledge or any history of deafness in their family to draw upon, the Kapustkas came to realize Noah’s condition is not a disability. “He just hears differently than you or I,” says Nick. The couple simply accepts it and sees it as it as a personal characteristic rather than a handicap. For them, the challenge was learning an entirely new language and form of communication. Along the way, they also discovered how and when to advocate for Noah’s best interest and about what support systems are available for families with deaf children.

Noah, now a little older than 3, interacts with hearing children, and, says Kapustka, has proven to be quite adept at teaching as well. “A lot of kids don’t know how to communicate (with) him and don’t know to use their hands,” says Nick. “It’s a learning process to teach his peers to communicate with him, (it’s) just like teaching how to share and take turns.” The preschool he attends has an interpreter to assist in Noah’s education, socialization and safety; a service mandated by the State of Colorado.

The Kapustka family, from left, Rachel, Noah and Nick./Photo by Steve Eginoire

When Noah was 16 months old, the couple decided to share what they learned and created a nonprofit organization, Deaf•in•it. The idea was conceived because there wasn’t any local continuity in offering parents assistance in raising deaf children and they saw a need to enhance public consciousness.

New Mexico, for example, provides childhood support from birth to 6 years of age while Colorado only has support from birth to 3 years of age. There is really only one other organization in Colorado, Colorado Families for Hands & Voices, that serves the deaf community. It is the flagship chapter of a movement known as Hands & Voices, which started about 30 years ago when a group of parents and professionals realized that families were getting biased, as well as incomplete, information on the condition and services that were available.

Nick understands how frustrating this can be, as well as the financial challenges such parents face. With Deaf•in•it he says, “We want to take that out of the equation.”

At present, the Kapustkas are in the final stage of submitting required 501c3 paperwork. Their vision is to aid in educational and awareness activities and provide financial assistance where needed. The mission is to support deaf and hard-of-hearing children to allow them the best possible avenues of communication and community.

When meeting Noah, people are immediately struck by his personality, something Kapustka refers to as his “genuineness,” an emotional truth he says is a gift to experience. “(Deaf people) will intimately share the good, the bad, and the ugly, whereas our society tends to shy away from that,” he explains. “This allows one to build a lasting relationship of honesty and integrity. When you are given an opportunity to communicate without verbalizing or hearing, there lies a greater opportunity for a true bond.”

American Sign Language (ASL) is the most obvious bridge between the deaf and the hearing, but it is not taught here or in the local schools. And the closest school for deaf in our state is in Colorado Springs.

The Kapustkas, who own Serving Life Chiropractic, hope to change that by bringing ASL classes to Durango that will be taught by deaf teachers. Like any language, ASL is best learned from a “native user.”

And the earlier children can learn, the better. Studies show that children sustaining hearing loss before the acquisition of verbal communication can impair a child’s ability to acquire a spoken language and lead to social isolation. As a result, deaf children can experience delayed social development, which is frequently connected to the inability to pick up auditory cues. A child who uses sign language, or identifies with the deaf culture, however, does not generally experience this isolation.

Close family friend of the Kapustkas, Elizabeth Kinahan, wanted to communicate with Noah as best as possible, so she set out to learn ASL. What was most revealing about the process, she says, was how it affected her, as the speaker. “Surprisingly, ASL is the first language that I feel I get,” she remarks. “I tend to remember words after seeing them a couple times, and I feel like I am literally painting a picture with gestures and word-signs right in front of the person when I am signing.”

Comparatively speaking, the deaf culture is a minority, with an estimated 70 million worldwide, but statistics are sketchy at best. In the United States, the Census ceased documenting deaf people sometime in the 1930s. However, it has been suggested that as many as 140 out of every 1,000 people in the United States have some kind of hearing loss.

Most parents believe their role, first and foremost, is creating the best environment and community for their child.  As such, the Kapustkas’ long view is to create a deaf-friendly Durango where downtown businesses have workers proficient in ASL and where classes are taught locally by deaf adults. Through Deaf•in•it, Kapustka ambitiously hopes to convince a camp serving deaf families to come to Durango and be involved on a yearly or semi-yearly basis. As Nick explains, the concept is to help Durango become a “hot spot for deaf tourism.”

For more information about deaf culture and Deaf•in•it go to: www.deafinit.org