I’ve loved to sing from the time I discovered my vocal cords.

I sang while I played. I sang in the tub. I sang to break the silence. I had no idea that I had any kind of exceptional voice until one day when I was seven. I sang “One Moment in Time” for my music teacher at school, and she went nuts.

“You blow my mind!” she said. She couldn’t believe my parents hadn’t entered me in Star Search—or at least had me audition for The Mickey Mouse Club. But my parents had no way of knowing their son had singing talent.

Both of my parents are deaf.

People think that must have been hard for me, but growing up in my home had some real advantages. At a young age, I was comfortable around adults and mature topics since I often interpreted for my parents at appointments with doctors, attorneys, and other professionals. By the time I was six, I knew more about real estate than most adults.

Watching closed-captioned TV allowed me to excel in reading, writing, and spelling. When I was fourteen, I placed seventh in the state of Illinois for the Scripps National Spelling Bee.

And I attended college on an acting scholarship. I truly believe my acting ability emerged out of necessity. Since my parents couldn’t hear my tone of voice, I couldn’t express anger, frustration, or excitement in words; I had to do it with my body language and facial ex-pressions.

But there are disadvantages, too. No matter how much success I achieve, no matter how many fans cheer for me, my two most important fans can’t hear me sing.

I remember the moment it really hit me that my mom would never be able to hear my voice the way everyone else does. We were driving down the road, and one of my favorite songs came on the radio, so I cranked it up and began to sing along. She looked at me and put her hand on my throat to feel the vibration. I realized that was the closest she would ever get. She says it’s enough for her; I wish it were enough for me.

After my appearance on Idol, I released a CD. I had written seven of the eleven songs myself, and I really wanted my dad to understand what I had accomplished. The case contained a liner with all the lyrics so he could read the words, but I wanted him to feel it. I turned up the bass as loud as I could so he could feel the beat, and I signed each song as I sang it to him. He let me know which ones were his favorites.

When I auditioned for American Idol, the judges asked me what one thing I wanted people to know about me.

“I grew up in a house with deaf parents,” I answered.

“Would you sign your song as you sing?” they asked. I was more than happy to.

When my audition aired, the TTY at my mom’s house rang off the hook. And when we did our American Idols Live!  tour, deaf fans showed up at the concerts and gave me the “I love you” sign from the audience. They connected with me; they embraced me. And I felt honored to help bring the deaf community into the world of music.

My parents flew out to the last city on the tour. It was so wonderful for my group of Idols to see where I came from. I introduced my parents to everyone, and they all hugged. My mother is in love with Justin Guarini, and she couldn’t believe she was meeting him. He’s truly one of the warmest, most genuine people in the world.

When it came time for my solo that night, I remember looking out at the audience and seeing my mom. She was watching other people’s reactions, and I could see how proud she was that they loved me.

My mom and dad support me and believe in me so much, even though they’ll never be able to hear me sing. I wouldn’t trade them for all the hearing parents in the world, but sometimes I dream that one day, by some miracle, I could pick up the phone and say “I love you” without an interpreter in the middle.

Who knows? Maybe I will. Impossible things happen every day. After all, a boy who grew up with two deaf parents made it into the Top 10, didn’t he?