It'd be fair to say I wasn't the coolest kid in school. I wore boring beige hearing aids behind my ears and a black box as big as a small book clipped to my belt. A long, thin piece of grey wire ran from the box to my ears, which occasionally would get caught on door handles, sending my hearing aids flying through the air.
Classrooms were often so noisy that I was unable to pick out what my teacher was saying. So at the start of each lesson I gave them another black box with a microphone attached to it. This sent a clear feed of my teacher's voice across radio waves straight into my ears.
Every few weeks I was visited by a peripatetic teacher of the deaf who'd check my equipment and offer me structured advice. They also worked with my teachers, helping them adapt lessons to suit my needs. I may not have been cool, but through a combination of consistent, specialised support and the latest equipment, I was able to follow most of what was going on. Then I could get on with learning.
Today, 85% of deaf children attend mainstream schools, like I did. The support they receive is vital. However, many still underachieve. Deaf children are no less intelligent than their peers, but remain 43% less likely to achieve five A-C grades at GCSE level.
According to the government, 59% of deaf children in education are classified as having "low incidence needs" and are not in receipt of a statement of special educational needs. These children currently receive the kind of support that I did, with sensory impairment services provided centrally by their local authority. However, last week's education bill, which sets out further expansion of the academy programme, fails to protect funding for this local support. At the moment, money from a central pot funds provision for deaf children in schools across an area. Instead, the government plans to pay the money directly to academies.
The National Deaf Children's Society is campaigning against these changes, and says they will put the quality of support at risk. Brian Gale, their director of policy and campaigns, said: "The government has said that it is committed to closing the gap between deaf children and other children, but expanding the academies programme, without first resolving how deaf children will be properly supported, means the policies are working in the opposite direction."
What's more, the funding academies get won't change depending on how many deaf children they enrol. This means some academies without deaf pupils will get money they don't need, while others, who enrol more deaf children, won't get extra funds to help pay for their provision.
Academies could decide to pay for existing local support but Gale adds: "One or two schools not buying a service could put local sensory impairment services in jeopardy." This means that teachers of the deaf, like those who helped me, could disappear from some areas. With academies free to choose how to spend their funds, deaf children across the country may be set to receive very inconsistent levels of support, depending on the choices their schools make.
I know from my personal experience that even a single lesson where you can't follow what's going on is an incredibly frustrating experience. Deaf children need steady, specialised support in order to thrive and introducing this kind of uncertainty to their education can only make it harder for them to reach their potential.
Deaf children need, and deserve, much better than this: being treated as little more than an afterthought by a government committed to lightning-fast changes.