Has this happened to you?
You’re talking to someone new and the communication is difficult. You say, “I’m hard of hearing (or use hearing aids); would you mind speaking up?”
The person responds, “Oh, I’m a little, you know, harda-hearing, too. Well, not really. Just a bit, sort of, kind of.”
“Oh, so you don’t use hearing aids?”
“Oh gosh no, it’s nothing that bad! I just don’t hear too well in noise, sometimes, you know. But it’s not a problem or anything.” (You realize by now that it most certainly is a problem, kind of, sort of.)
“Perhaps you should just get your hearing checked out. I love my hearing aids, and they’ve helped me a lot. ”
Whether this person goes for hearing help or not, you have just become – by admitting you’ve got hearing loss and touting the benefits of hearing aids – an advocate.
Advocacy has many shades of meaning, but on the most basic level an advocate is someone who pleads or argues in favor of something, such as a cause or an idea. Advocacy, whether it’s a small issue or a large effort, helps others to have their needs expressed, their rights met and their problems sorted out.
So when we identify as hard of hearing or deaf, it’s an act of simple advocacy; when we tout the joys of hearing technology and adopting better communication strategies, we are advocating on behalf of all those with hearing loss. Every time you say I wear hearing aids – and don’t follow up with a spit on the ground – you may be giving someone else the strength to take steps for a better quality of life.
In November 2007, I was in Yellowknife, Northwest Territories, for hearing loss presentations, including the delivery of Sound Sense, the Hearing Foundation of Canada’s elementary school hearing awareness program. Students in two of the schools were primarily from the Dené, Inuit and Métis communities, and I was excited at having a new ‘audience’.
One of the school presentations was held in a large, temporary portable structure, because a section of the school had burned down the previous winter. There was almost no furniture, so what seemed like a million (but was probably just a hundred) Grade 5 and 6 students sat cross-legged on the floor.
Sitting in the very front, just inches from where I stood, was a small boy with a shock of black hair, chestnut eyes and a bright yellow sweatshirt. He was animated and participated in the program by telling the sounds that he loved and the noisy activities he enjoyed.
The heart of the Sound Sense presentation is a fabulous, partially-animated DVD that takes kids inside the hearing system; characters Spike and Mike explain how noise can be harmful to our hearing and what we can do to protect ourselves from permanent damage, such as turning down the volume and wearing earplugs. Kids love it and I get a 10-minute break.
While the DVD was playing, I sat at the back next to one of the teachers. Forgetting that I had a severe hearing loss, she started whispering to me, and after a few moments of gestures, reading lips, and a blunt reminder that I don’t do whispering, we finally connected.
“There’s a little boy here who’s supposed be wearing his hearing aids, but he never does,” she said softly. “He thinks the other kids will laugh at him.”
“Which one is he?” I asked.
“The boy in the yellow sweatshirt.”
At the end of Sound Sense presentation, I made my usual pitch. “I didn’t have the choice – but if I did have the choice between wearing earplugs and wearing hearing aids, which do you think I would have picked?”
“Earplugs!” they shouted.
“Exactly! I didn’t have the choice, but you do, so I’m giving each of you a pair of earplugs and I want you to wear them to protect your hearing.”
I went on. “But, you know, I was born with my hearing loss and I do wear hearing aids. I got them when I was just a little older than you, and you know what, guys? They’ve changed my life. Without them, I wouldn’t be able to hear your voices; I wouldn’t be able to hear birds singing, or the other animal sounds you love. But now I can! With my hearing aids, I can watch movies, I can understand what people are saying, and the best part is how they bring music into my ears. I love my hearing aids, I love them!”
I allowed myself only the briefest glance at my bright yellow fellow, not wanting to look at him directly, or single him out. But I could feel his dark eyes watching me. The Sound Sense presentation ended and we all went on with our day.
The rest of my day included a dogsled ride around a frozen lake as the sun was setting at 2:30pm. (This was the far north, in winter.) And on that day as we mushed our way over the frozen trail, I thought about that little boy with his chestnut eyes and yellow sweatshirt. I hoped he would start wearing his hearing aids – if not right now, maybe some time soon. After all, that cool crazy lady from away loves her hearing aids, so maybe they aren’t so bad.
Gael – I will definitely share your story. May is Better Hearing Health Month, so your post is especially poignant.
Very well presented Gael. I enjoyed the story of “the boy in the yellow sweatshirt”. Brings back a lot of memories of my childhood. Keep up the good work.
Gael
As usual, you manage to strike a memory. So many of us adults were at one point a child in a yellow sweater. Times have changed but we still need to get the message out that those hearing aids can be our best friend. Your blog brought back vivid memories of how hard I tried to hide my hearing loss and now I look back and I think how foolish I was but then I grew up in a generation where hearing loss was not talked about and now here you are talking about it all the time and spreading the most awesome message that there is a life after hearing loss and there are solutions to hearing the world.
Thanks for being such a postive role model and as someone who has seen you present Sound Sense I feel confident that your message is being HEARD .
MYRTLE
Gael, I think you hit this topic right on the money. I don’t understand why there is still a negative vibe around wearing hearing aids. I know that most people are not looking forward to wearing hearing aids, just like most people don’t want to use a walker, or cane, or any assistive device for that matter. The real question is whether someone wants to use hearing aids, the question is how much better will your life be with hearing aids!