Customer Reviews

Hands of My Father: A Hearing Boy, His Deaf Parents, and the Language of Love

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I loved Hands of My Father! I devoured it. And I, the woman whose books *never* have so much as a cracked binding, highlighted passages of particular beauty. And there are quite a few passages like that...

Born to two deaf parents, American Sign Language was Uhlberg's first language; then, English, spoken and written. As a very young child, he was forced to "translate" the hearing world for his parents. He learned early on that words are often painful but sometimes wonderful. Uhlberg endured a child's shame at seeing his father being treated like a child himself simply because he was deaf. (He translated slurs and hateful words exactly as they were said, because his father demanded it.)

Even though his childhood was stunted by having to act as his parents' go-between with the hearing world as well as by having to be responsible for his epileptic younger brother, it's obvious Ulberg was raised with love and concern. Afraid his precious new baby was born deaf, his father went to great lengths to make sure Myron could hear. During the Great Depression, Ulberg slept with a radio always playing beside his bed -- first a "baby" table-top model and then a gigantic Philco aptly described as looking like a cathedral -- because his parents worried that his hearing might waste away if not used.

This book is rich with love of all kinds: Mother Sarah's love-through-food and his father's love-through-touch, the boy's love for his father. There's old love and lost love and love of 1940's comic books. In Uhlberg's word, Love, like ASL, is varied and knee-deep in contextual meaning. And somewhere along the way -- after the cathedral radio and before his first library card -- it's obvious that Myron Uhlberg fell in love words. For him "Sign was a beautiful painting, absorbed whole..." whereas his second language "required the brain for translation." This is frankly the best comparison of ASL and English I've ever read.

Hands of My Father: A Hearing Boy, His Deaf Parents and the Language of Love is not so much a memoir but a literal love letter. It's a word painting of growing up that should not be missed.

Uhlberg does not romanticize growing up the oldest son of deaf parents, Sarah and Lou, at a time when little cultural effort was made to understand or accommodate the deaf. He speaks frankly and with some shame of the humiliation he felt when others mocked his family, of the resentment for having to do so much more than most little boys have to handle in helping them navigate through the world. But he doesn't cast himself as the hero of a tragedy. The picture he paints is a well-rounded one of parents whose needs were often a challenge, but who offered much in return. Uhlberg seems pretty clear that in spite of the burden of their deafness, his parents themselves were a gift--a gift I thank him for sharing.

I read it. I loved it. I am confident others will, too. Uhlberg can indeed speak the language of love--not just the sign language he used to communicate with his deaf parents, but the written language he uses to communicate to his readers. I have not read many memoirs that speak as straight to the heart as this one does. It doesn't rely for emotional appeal on overblown metaphors or flights of fancy, but on honesty and a willingness to share. At heart a love story between Uhlberg and his father Lou (though Sarah is not shirked), it is all the more moving because it is so real...and so very well written. With clear, fluid prose and well-chosen detail, Uhlberg evokes both imagination and emotion. I laughed; I cried; I hated to put it down.

One of Lou's greatest fears was the loss of his ability to communicate. His parents, like Sarah's, had never really learned to sign; he never knew them. Gazing on a child in an iron lung, he could not help but think of the horror of being so cut off. His hands, the only thing he had to share himself; how could he make himself known to others without them? I could not help but think while reading this that even so many years after his father's death, Uhlberg is still acting as Lou's translator, still bridging the gap between his parents and the hearing world. He has *become* his father's hands.

I suspect Lou Uhlberg would be pleased. I *know* I am.

Myron Uhlberg tells the story of his childhood - he was born of two deaf parents in Brooklyn in the depression years through the early 50's. As a child he had to carry the responsibility of being the bridge to the hearing world for his parents and also keep a watchful eye on his epileptic younger brother. Uhlberg shares the unvarnished truth - brutal honesty on the shame and embarrassment he felt by these "burdens" - in addition to seeing, hearing and feeling the ignorance that his Father faced in all aspects of his life (work, shopping, riding train) - and enduring the cruel painful slights, slurs and the mocking directed at his Father.

"I was never able to get used to the initial look of incomprehension that bloomed on the stranger's face when my father failed to answer, and the way that look turned to shock at the sound of his harsh voice announcing his deafness, then metastasized into revulsion, at which point the stranger would turn and flee as if my father's deafness were a contagious disease. Even now, seventy long years in the future, the memory of the shame I sometimes felt as a child is as corrosive as battery acid in my veins, and bile rises unbidden in my throat."

What is clear from reading this book is that Uhlberg's Father was an exceptional man - a man who persevered with sheer determination and will power in a hearing world.

`"Hearing people think I'm stupid. I am not stupid." My father's hands fell silent.'

I found myself yearning for more details on how Uhlberg's Father and Mother coped in an unforgiving environment in the harsh depression era - more details on their struggle of being deaf in a hearing world - how they managed to raise two infants in a hearing world. And, conversely I felt myself drifting away from the story when Uhlberg moved into sharing his day-to-day childhood memories not involving his parents.

The love between his parents - - and his parents' love for him and his brother oozes out throughout the memoir. The book opens with an Author's Note: "This memoir is how I remember my life growing up with my deaf parents, and to the best of my ability I've made every effort to get right what matters most. They deserve no less from me, their son."

I believe that Uhlberg did get right what matters most - the importance of a loving father and warm caring home life and the warm recollection of special treasured moments between a Father and Son. This is an honest, sincere and heartwarming memoir to his wonderful parents who he misses terribly today - I could only dream of sharing something this special with my family.

I just put my kindle down and all I can say is wow. The author does an incredible job of describing the descriptive nature of sign language. It makes me want to relearn the language I love so much. He describes in vivid detail the signs and the images they evoke. I am not one for memoirs, but this one was everything I could ask for in one.
I can picture his father sitting at the table making paper hats from the New York Post every night and dancing with his Mother Sarah. I can picture Irwin sluggishly moving thru life and the feeling of your parents using you because they have no other option.
The love in this book is nearly overwhelming - from the initial lack from their parents and then the author fills in the blanks from stories told so beautifully its as if you can see them playing before you in your own kitchen.
I wish I could read more books that have a soul like this one. Read this one for the story, enjoy the sign language, and laugh and cry along the way!

I have read several of Myron Uhlberg's children's books- my favorite has to be Flying Over Brooklyn. This very engaging memoir of a hearing child born to two deaf parents is both fascinating and loving. Uhlberg weaves us the story of his parent's meeting and time before he was even born- as told to him from his father's hands. It was before ASL (American Sign Language), when there was no real "Deaf" culture and not even a standardized sign language really to learn- just one passed down in the dark. "Hands of My Father" starts with his father's education, where we was forced to try to learn vocalization and a trade at a military like school for deaf children. It moves across the span of a life time of Myron, who stood with one foot in each world. A hearing child of deaf parents, he often was forced to interpret for his parents in public or even things like the fights on the radio at night.

I think this is an excellent and fascinating book. It drew me in and is only enhanced by the pictures peppered throughout the text. In short this is a book about disablity, ability, history (depression era), and most important, the love of a father and a son. I highly recommend this read.

Myron Uhlberg has written a truly beautiful memoir that I enjoyed from start to end. Every page of this wonderful story is a gem. The book is interesting, engaging, funny, and poignant. It is one of those rare treasures that is not only beautiful in its honesty, but valuable in that it changes the reader. I look at my own personal world differently today for having read this book. It is not only about the deaf, but about all of our differences, our similarities, and how to create a common language to share both.

Myron Uhlberg's memoir of his Brooklyn boyhood in the 30s and 40s differs from others by his memories of being the hearing son of deaf parents. His parents had to make a life for themselves before ADA and Deaf Culture and I was more interested in those aspects, which he unfortunately (like I) remained an outsider. He of course, was closer than others to knowing the slights and denials his parents endured. He also had to shoulder the responsibility for interpreting for them as well as helping care for his younger brother. Funny remembrances followed by heartbreakers carry you along.

I can't call it "amazing" (5 stars), but I don't hesitate to recommend it.

Enjoy an amazing story of a loving family.

Myron Uhlberg and his brother Irwin had parents who kept them from recognizing shortages during the Second World War, who made sure that they were educated at school and at home, who loved their children with all their hearts. Sarah and Louis were deaf - Sarah as an infant, and Louis as a toddler. While their deafness most certainly affected the Uhlberg household, it did not affect the affection in the home.

Myron, as the oldest, had a dual role: he was his parents' child, and he was their conduit to the Hearing world. He was often stung, both as the child and as the translator, by the "dummy" slurs aimed at his parents that he could most certainly hear.

He suffered the slurs silently. He suffered confusion when his father demands that he explain the colors of sound. He also had an amazing childhood, with the gifts of growing up by Coney Island, of having a father who would play with him after his hard day at work.

Myron's memoir is not only about the ...A Hearing Boy, His Deaf Parents, and the Language of Love but about growing up in Brooklyn, New York, during and after WWII. There was a fear of polio, a fear of bombs, and weekends at the beach. Hands of My Father is rich in description, but not overwhelming. It is a strawberry shortcake, not a trifle - a description which would make Sarah, a woman who loved to see her family eat, quite happy.

I recommend this book highly. It would be a positive addition to a class with both Hearing and Deaf children, as well as to a Sign Language workshop. It stands on its own as a memoir, as well. No matter how you look at it, "Hands of My Father" is a simply gorgeous story.

Myron Uhlberg's has captured in the written word, the same grace, creativity, beauty, passion, dignity and power expressed by Signing. Louis and Sarah Uhlberg were people with a tremendous sense of dignity and self-respect despite the prejudice, fear and ignorance of the hearing world. To be his father's voice was immensely challenging and demanded more of a child than should reasonably be expected. The author does not deny the frustration, embarrassment and overwhelming sense of responsibility that he felt for his parents and younger brother. Neither does he extol them as virtues. He does however recognize the gift that his childhood experience was to him. This book offers insight into the deaf world and the social milieu of the 1930's and 40's. It also would be of value to anyone who works with families of a minority culture attempting to make sense of and be a part of a community that does not speak their language.

I am the son of deaf parents and found a great deal in this book related to my early life. I think the author is both accurate and extremely observant in relating his life with deaf parents. Anyone interested in language and communication will love this book.