It’s a warm September afternoon and the Hersey volleyball team is working on communication skills.
After all, communication is essential in volleyball.
Defenders, like a pair of outfielders chasing down a flyball, call for the ball as a hard serve bears down on the space between them.
Setters and hitters call out plays and the location of where the attack at the net will take place. Miscommunicate, miss a point or sideout.
A serve floats toward Laurie Anderson and the senior outside hitter is positioned to make the pass. At the last second, Anderson turns her body sideways and lets a teammate take the ball. Communication.
In games, No. 20 looks like any other player on the court. She’s got a good, quick arm and hits with power, despite being a relatively small 5 feet 8 inches. She makes up for her lack of size with tremendous spring in her legs.
And Anderson possesses something that can’t be taught. She has great court sense.
“I know the game,” Anderson says.
There is another difference between Anderson and most other players. She is deaf.
“I use my eyes, as opposed to my hearing,” says Anderson through interpreter Karin Kalodimos. “I can’t hear when people are calling for the ball, so I need to depend on my eyes more than the other players do. Other than that, it’s fine.
“I can talk, not great, but good enough that the other players understand me. I call the ball; obviously they can hear me. I call what kind of a set I want because the setter can hear me. I’m not shy about the sound of my voice.”
Anderson, who lives in Hoffman Estates, has been on the varsity three years and has hopes of playing in college. Hersey, which is a center for deaf and hearing-impaired students in the north and northwest suburbs, has had deaf athletes in all sports. Anderson, who also plays softball and plans to try out for gymnastics this winter, is one of the standouts.
“She’s amazing,” says Hersey coach Nancy Lill, who has deaf student Crystal Mitchem on the sophomore squad. “She’s an exceptional lip-reader and can vocalize. We have an interpreter at practice and matches. Laurie and I communicate very well. On the court, she communicates well with her teammates. She’s a special athlete.”
Anderson wasn’t born deaf. A severe upper respiratory infection when she was 15 months old led to an ear infection.
“When she got over that,” Anderson’s father, Bill, said, “we noticed she wasn’t hearing.
“I still have this vivid image of her standing at the back doors looking outside in the back yard,” Bill Anderson said. “I called her and she didn’t respond. It became obvious she wasn’t hearing. And she had just started talking, so that ceased.
“It was a very traumatic period. But the bottom line was to get her into a program to teach her to communicate.”
Anderson’s mother, Jane, started her in a parent-infant program when Laurie was 2.
“We were taught sign language and were able to communicate,” Bill Anderson said. “Once that happened you could see the frustration of not being able to communicate starting to leave her.”
Being deaf changed Anderson’s life, but not her outlook. As a little girl, she idolized her older brothers, Bran and Steve, who are 10 and 13 years older, respectively. Her brothers were athletes at Hoffman Estates and anything they did, she wanted to be part of.
“They both encouraged me,” she says. “When I was just a baby, they let me dribble the basketball, play softball, volleyball, everything with a ball. I just enjoy sports. They keep me out of trouble.”
Whether it was basketball, baseball or even football, Anderson followed her brothers. They took the time to instruct her. She didn’t need much instruction or encouragement.
“She picked things up really quickly,” says Bran, now 28. “If you’d show her how to hold a bat, she picked it right up. She wasn’t outstanding in every sport, but she was good.”
Like volleyball, softball is also a communication sport. It’s hard to imagine the game in silence. No cries of “I’ve got it,” “Slide,” “She’s coming” or “Home.” No “Ball!” or “Strike!” “Safe!” or “Out!”
No crack of the bat.
Like in volleyball, Anderson relies on her eyes to tell her what her ears can’t. She can compensate with her speed and natural athletic talents. As a center-fielder or shortstop, she still is able to get a jump on a grounder or fly ball.
“How do I do it? That’s a good question,” she admits. “I really don’t know how I do it. I just do it.”
Hersey has been a regional site for students who are deaf or hearing-impaired since it opened in 1968. Anderson is one of six such students playing sports this fall.
“These kids fit right in,” says Hersey girls Athletic Director Pat Kennedy. “We don’t do anything special except for the interpreters. We don’t want to. It’s really neat to see the kids make the connection and fit in.”
Anderson fits in just fine. Lill has had considerable experience coaching deaf athletes and is a positive influence. She has helped make Anderson a big part of Hersey volleyball.
“She’s not scared at all of coaching me,” Anderson said. “She can communicate with me. She treats me like I’m a hearing person.”
Anderson’s teammates help her fit in on and off the court. It’s not apparent to the casual fan that she is deaf.
“I’ve played with her since our sophomore year,” said senior Dawn Schuler. “You wouldn’t know (Anderson’s deaf) unless you knew her. She’s great to work with. She’s an awesome athlete.”
Anderson’s talents aren’t confined to athletics. She’s also an actress who had the lead in “The Miracle Worker” last year and has performed in “Peter Pan,” “The Diary of Anne Frank” and others.
She plans to play volleyball in college and is considering Eastern Kentucky, Georgia, UCLA, Northern Illinois and Arizona State. She’s a communicator, an achiever and a role model.
“I guess I am kind of a role model for little kids,” she says after giving it some thought. “I have spoken to classes and encouraged them to join sports and get that experience. I encourage little kids to join a variety of activities.
“I grew up with other kids who told me I couldn’t do this or that. I had to boost my own self-esteem to prove them wrong. I wanted to prove to myself that the only thing I can’t do is hear.”
