What Louise said made sense, but that didn’t make it any easier for me. ‘I fear she’s starting to reject speaking and hearing, Louise,’ I replied, ‘staying there in Melbourne, immersing herself in the deaf world. That’s against everything I fought for for her!’
‘It’s so common, Mary. You’ve read that book by Paul Jacobs, Neither-Nor, haven’t you? A similar case to Sophie’s.’
‘I know. But how could we have all learned to sign? I mean, perhaps if we were living in a different family we could have. But living in the arts world with Li often away, working at night – and there were huge things going on in our lives as well. Just being married to Li, it’s like a full-time bloody job, plus I had three kids, and on top of that I was trying to keep my teaching career going. Also, my goal was for her to be able to communicate and survive in the bigger speaking world.’
I knew I was being defensive, but it was all true.
‘Don’t forget, though,’ Louise continued calmly, ‘she’s also on the journey to becoming bilingual like her friend Alice, who can talk and sign. Try to keep an open mind on this, Mary. Be patient. It might be a rocky road for a while but Sophie won’t shut you out. She loves you.’
I understood, but I prayed Sophie would not reject speaking. As I hung up the phone, I continued to reflect on the subject. In hindsight, should we have had a tutor teach us to sign in Houston in the beginning? Sign language had always been a last resort in the back of my mind. What also bothered me was that American Sign Language was different to Australian Sign Language and Chinese Sign Language, so how was that ever going to work for our family? Oh, God. I was beginning to torture myself with guilt that I was the worst mother ever.
The next time I saw Sophie was when we went to Melbourne during Tom’s final year of his Bachelor of Arts degree to see him in a play called And Then There Were None. To my surprise, she asked to bring a young man she was dating.
‘That’s fine, Sophie. Who is he?’
‘His name’s Patrick, Mum, and I met him at the Australia Day barbecue.’
‘Oh!’ I said, totally surprised. ‘Well, of course he can come. I’d like to meet him.’
It was hard to form a decent impression of Patrick that night since we were all watching the play, and other Melbourne friends of ours – Robin Campbell and her son David – had come along too. Patrick looked nice enough – decent, respectful. He was studying industrial design. I could see that he had a cochlear implant and, like Sophie, struggled in a large crowd. Not everyone saw that, but I noticed. I was happy to meet him and to know that Sophie had someone to care for her.
Sophie was a quick learner and in just a few months she became fluent enough to be able to present a paper with Meg at the World Federation of the Deaf conference in Sydney. Their signed and spoken presentation was on the impact the Hear For You program was having on young deaf teens across Australia and New Zealand. It was well received, but the biggest thrill for Sophie was the realisation that she had fully embraced sign language and deafness as part of her identity. It was a breakthrough for her, and would be a new journey for all of us. I hoped I was ready for it.
Come November, there was more excitement.
‘Mum, guess what?’ said Sophie when I answered the phone. ‘I’ve just been promoted! My new title is National Communications and Programs Coordinator.’
‘Oh, wow, Sophie! That’s brilliant! What does that involve?’
‘Well, I’m going to be full time here, Mum! I’ll still be running the Victorian oral program, but I’ll also be managing the training of mentors in other states, and I’ll be the main person for media stuff, like Facebook, newsletters and the website. It’s exactly what I want to do.’
‘That’s fantastic, Soph,’ I said. ‘You’ll do a great job. Let me know how it goes!’
‘I will, Mum. You know I will never stop talking to you!’
At that moment, tears sprang to my eyes. I was reassured by her words and so proud of her.
We were proud of Tom, too. He completed his Bachelor of Arts and wanted to save for a trip overseas, so he came to live with us and got a job at a cafe in Brisbane. It was fabulous having our son with us again, and he brought a different dynamic to our home. He was lovely with Bridie, played tennis again with his father and swam in the pool.
He also spent time with Coralie, which was very special for both of them. Boys don’t always seem to have much time for their grandparents, but now that Mum was eighty, Tom seemed to realise it was time to make up for that before it was too late. The whole family gathered to celebrate her birthday. We wanted her to know how much she meant to us.
The end of 2013 came around quickly. We were barely a year into our new lives with Queensland Ballet and yet here we were on the opening night of the Australian premiere of The Nutcracker. Pre-publicity had been amazing and the sold-out theatre was buzzing. Ben had returned to rehearse the dancers and stayed for opening night. The set was sublime – a real traditional Christmas bauble of glitter and colour – and the costumes were a knockout. Valmai Pidgeon and Amanda Talbot, two Brisbane donors, had generously underwritten the new production.
I was backstage as the dancers put the finishing touches to their make-up. Li offered words of encouragement to all. I could see he was nervous. He didn’t want to let down a single person who’d been a part of the journey, especially Ben. I knew in my bones that the company would rise to the occasion and give a spectacular performance.
The opening night was exhilarating, and we were floating on air afterwards. Ben and Coralie, Li and I walked across the road, followed by our children and extended family. Bumping into people and being congratulated, we made our way to the Brisbane Convention & Exhibition Centre to celebrate at the afterparty. It was an opportunity for Li to thank Ben and the creative teams, along with Valmai and Amanda. His gamble had paid off: The Nutcracker was a triumph!
Greg Horsman’s successful world premiere of Coppélia kicked off Li’s second season. The city was abuzz with talk about the quality and boldness of Queensland Ballet, and Li had much more in store. He had always dreamed of performing Sir Kenneth MacMillan’s iconic Romeo and Juliet, having worked with and respected Kenneth in Houston before he passed away. Kenneth had been one of the most respected choreographers in the world, with his Romeo and Juliet widely considered to be one of the best ballets of all time. Li had also got to know Kenneth’s Australian-born wife, Lady Deborah, who now managed his works. He learned that she was going to be in Sydney and arranged to meet her.
‘Li, there’s no stopping you,’ I said. ‘If we are allowed, we’d have to be the smallest ballet company ever to perform it. You know this production is usually only performed by companies like the American Ballet Theatre and the Royal Ballet?’
‘I know, darling, but I think we can do it,’ he said. ‘It will take our dancers to another level. I want to bring it to Australia as it’s never been done here.’
Li certainly had audacity in spades. He managed to convince Deborah to let us perform it. On his way to the airport after their meeting, he called me excitedly to say, ‘Mary, we got Romeo and Juliet!’
‘What?’ I couldn’t believe my ears.