INDIANAPOLIS » Politicians have seen plenty of demonstrators outside the Statehouse here. But the crowd that gathered last month was a bit different from the usual shouting protesters.

Scores of deaf and hard-of-hearing children and their families assembled to complain in American Sign Language. Parents also have confronted new board members of the state’s school for the deaf in pointed, awkward exchanges. And more objections are expected when the board convenes next month for what had, until now, been ordinary meetings on routine school matters.

At the root of the tension is a debate that stretches well beyond Indiana: Will sign language and the nation’s separate schools for the deaf be abandoned as more of the deaf turn to communicating, with help from fast-evolving technology, through amplified sounds and speech?

And in the struggle to balance depleted budgets, Indiana and other states, like Kansas, North Carolina, Oregon, South Dakota and West Virginia, have called for cuts on many fronts in recent years, including for state schools for the deaf — a group of institutions with long, rich traditions.

Some advocates for the schools now worry that financial concerns could push the debate toward sending deaf children to “mainstream” schools, which would, in the eyes of some, ultimately encourage methods of communication other than American Sign Language, or ASL.

“Speaking and listening classrooms across the nation are known for their forced exclusion of ASL and expressly forbid any contact with the culturally deaf adult role models,” Marvin Miller, president of the Indiana Association of the Deaf, who is deaf, said in an email interview.

“We view this as inflicting violence upon thousands of innocent deaf and hard-of-hearing babies — taking away their language and pinning their hopes on dismal success rates of cochlear implants,” he added.

The two approaches — sign language and the so-called listening and spoken language approach — are both in wide use.

Many people do not see them in conflict with one another and view the two approaches as a matter of personal choice. But shrinking state budgets, with less money to be spent on programs for the deaf, are hardening the debate because they are turning preferences into policy decisions.

Advocates for those who use technology to hear and speak say their option can be one answer to the budget constraints.

“Kids in the mainstream save society, taxpayers, a significant amount of money in the short-term and in the long-term when it comes to being integrated into the hearing world,” said Naomi S. Horton, executive director of Hear Indiana, a group that supports families who use listening and spoken language to communicate.

“There is a financial benefit, but at the end of the day it has to be a parent’s choice,” Horton said.

Here, the clash began this spring, when Gov. Mitch Daniels, a Republican, filled four empty slots on the board of the Indiana School for the Deaf, which was founded more than 165 years ago and promotes what it calls a bilingual, bicultural philosophy that includes American Sign Language and English. Some 340 students go to the school, which provides outreach services to hundreds of others.

Parents complained that three of the appointees were not themselves deaf. Two of the new board members (both of whom have a deaf or hard-of-hearing child) drew particular anger because families said they were dues-paying members of Hear Indiana and were perceived to favor an educational approach of amplifying sound and encouraging speech over sign language.

The appointments, they said, signaled that the state was now picking sides — against American Sign Language and deaf culture.

“It has become crystal clear that these selections were premeditated, planned and executed in a style befitting the most savvy of politics,” said Kim Bianco Majeri, who is deaf and whose daughters — one deaf and one hard of hearing — attend the Indiana School for the Deaf.

Majeri said the school provided them with language skills of all sorts but also the nurturing environment and true peers that she said she missed out on.

“My husband and I grew up mainstreamed and we would never wish that on our children,” she said.

Two of the board members who have faced criticism did not respond to requests for comment. A third, Mary Susan Buhner, whose husband serves on the board of Hear Indiana, declined to respond to specific questions about her views, but she did say she believes in theB stated mission of the Indiana School for the Deaf to be “the premier comprehensive center providing education, services and resources” for Indiana’s deaf.

The Hear Indiana group lauded Daniels’ appointments, saying in a news release that they represent “the growing diversity of 21st century parents and children living with hearing loss” and a long-overdue inclusion of the views of people who use technology like cochlear implants.

“Today less than 20 percent of all families choose traditional American Sign Language,” the release said. “The remaining 80 percent want their children to enjoy the full range of sounds and to be able to listen and speak.”

Kristina Swatts and her husband, Chris, got a bone-conduction hearing aid for their son Isaac when he was 9 months old.

Now 22 months old, Isaac sings, dances and says scores of words, and the Swatts, who are not deaf, said they intended to send him to mainstream schools.

“We want what every parent wants for their child,” Kristina Swatts said.

The clash over the two approaches is complicated by conflicting and shifting statistics — for example, cochlear implant advocates say the devices have a far higher success rate than critics claim, while ASL advocates say the popularity of such devices is drastically overstated.

Advocates of ASL say they worry about cuts to the state budget, which included a 13 percent cut this year to $16.3 million to the School for the Deaf, and fear that more might be in store.

But Hear Indiana says the financing is already lopsided against a spoken approach, spending far more, the group says, on the students attending the school than on the rest of the state’s more than 1,800 deaf or hard-of-hearing students, many of whom go to their local schools.

“At the end of the day, this entire conversation is about right-sizing the budget for deaf education in Indiana,” Horton said. “No one wants to take the ASL option away; we simply want to see that parents who choose listening and spoken language instruction (over placement at the Indiana School for the Deaf) have equal access to a free and appropriate public education.”

© 2011 The New York Times Company