Christmas (and the holidays in general) has come and gone, so this post isn’t as timely as it might have been oh, say, a few weeks ago. But here goes.

As I’ve grown and aged, I take far more pleasure in shopping for others, although sometimes it can be difficult (what can you get for someone in their sixties who seemingly already has everything??). But the most fun for me has always been shopping for children. As someone who enjoys reading and books, I like looking for books that I enjoyed as a child and passing on the gift of literature to the next generation. It’s always difficult to determine which book to give, because there are so many good ones, and of course, it depends on the age of the child in question.

This year, we decided to give my niece James Thurber’s Many Moons (an excellent example of children’s lit– why don’t they write books like this anymore??), in addition to a few other small gifts– she is our favorite (and only) niece, after all. Our decision was made at a local children’s bookstore– while I guiltily confess to being a purveyor of Amazon, I try to frequent local and independent businesses when I can, and L.A. does have a few top-notch children’s bookstores.

Since I was already rushed that day, and I liked their wrapping paper, I decided to opt for the clerk to do the hard work for me. While waiting for the gift-wrapping to be done, I looked around the bookstore a little. I saw a shelf full of new books near the entrance. I decided to see if there were any new, hidden gems out these days.

Imagine my surprise when I saw a book titled The Deaf Musicians on the top shelf. The author is well-known folk singer and institutional legend Pete Seeger. While I’m quite familiar with the cliché of “celebrity-turned-author” these days, my curiosity was piqued enough that I took a copy down from the shelf.

It turned out to be a delightful picture book, about a musician named Lee, who becomes deaf and is asked to leave his band. Lee is in despair, uncertain about a future devoid of music, but while adjusting to his new-found deafness, soon learns through a serendipitous encounter that music really knows no boundaries.

Our niece is a little too old for picture books at this stage, but I can see this book topping the gift list for other young relatives next year. What pleased me the most is Seeger’s message that the boundaries of the mind do not have to be restrictions on our talents, our abilities, our desires. While most of us already knew that, there are lots of people out there (including hundreds of thousands of fans of Seeger), who think that hearing loss is the equivalent of a death sentence.

While I can kind of understand that (I was born hard-of-hearing, and the only thing I really miss as a deaf adult is music– the rest of it is somewhat overrated), I see music as not just a melody, a rhythm, and a collection of notes, but also as poetry. In that sense, we deaf are on equal terms with our hearing peers. We enjoy signed songs, we appreciate the twists and turns of language, and we definitely enjoy a good beat (as any deaf person who’s ever attended a racuous party can tell you; or any Gallaudet student who’s thumped along with the Bison Song can attest!).

A more eloquent take on what music means to us as deaf people can be found in Pamela Wright-Meinhardt’s “A Letter To C.F.”, found in The Deaf Way II Anthology. One essential line states, “In short, Art starts in the heart and is meant to touch hearts.”

This too is the message in The Deaf Musicians, a book that takes what some might consider a traumatic situation and turns it into a creative approach to one of the most essential aspects of being human: the desire for self-expression.

While I doubt that at his age Seeger is going to have a long career as a children’s author, I do hope that many of his admirers and fans see this book, read it, and reconsider deafness and what being deaf means today. At the very least, I hope they’ll understand that the interpreter standing on stage at any concert or artistic function isn’t there to distract, or to be annoying, but to help those of us who want to attend to share in the arts.