Have you ever been tossed on the stormy seas of hearing loss nomenclature?
That’s the term or terms applied to someone or something, and in the hearing loss and deaf worlds it’s what you’re called if you have it, if you are it, if you have some of it, or if you ain’t got none of it.
Deaf. Deafened. A little deaf. Legally deaf. Late-deafened. Oral deaf.
Hard of hearing. Hearing-impaired. Person with hearing loss. Hearing aid user. CI-user.
Hearing.
If things are too calm at meetings of people who are deaf or have hearing loss, stand up and say, “Hey, just wondering. Why don’t we just get our act together and agree that we’re all hearing-impaired.”
Then quickly leave the room and jump into a waiting car.
Nothing gets people more riled up—particularly those whose deafness plays a significant role in their everyday life—than having an undesired label slapped on their forehead. Most people, especially those with milder hearing losses, pick a description and stick with it. For them, there are no political overtones, social agenda or disability awareness attached to any term they use. It’s simply how they’re used to describing someone with the issue, or perhaps they adopted it from their hearing care professional.
But advocates tend to be passionate about using accurate descriptors that reflect their self-identity. I’m Deaf. I’m a person with hearing loss. This same zeal can cause them to condemn choices made by other people.
Hearing-impaired is not a popular term (this is a supreme understatement) with members of international deaf and hearing loss organizations. It smacks of brokenness, defectiveness. I’ve never used the term, but I have been guilty of pulpit-preaching that this is not a preferred or even acceptable title for any self-respecting person with hearing challenges. Others have been more vocal in their condemnation. “You shouldn’t call yourself that, it’s wrong and/or discriminatory.” It is, however, the term that many audiologists, hearing instrument specialists and health professionals describe their patients, although there is a trend to using more positive terms and away from the contentious “impaired”.
Yup, the subject of what we call ourselves is always good for some heated discussion. Writing this blog is like wading through a verbal minefield; it’s very easy to insult somebody who feels that this or that term is derogatory and that there oughta be a law.
There’s only one easy, non-debatable term (I think) and that’s what we call people who can hear. We call them hearing people, differentiating them from those of us who don’t.
So many of our descriptions use negative terms. Hard. Loss. Impaired. Challenged. Different. (I won’t dignify the other terms that include the words stone, post and dumb.) The only title that doesn’t contain a negative word is DEAF. People who belong to Deaf Culture are proud of being deaf; it’s their identity, culture and language. Most hearing people think of Deaf as something that is not good to be—they don’t understand how anyone would not want to hear.
But many of us who have hearing loss and use spoken language, want to hear. It’s our life and our choice to seek hearing through hearing aids and cochlear implants.
The term that really confuses me is LEGALLY deaf. Although I fit into the medical definition of legal deafness (66 to 85 decibels of hearing loss), what does that label get me? Free hearing aids? A sticker that allows me to park in the ‘handicapped’ parking? Lower taxes? And someone who has less of a loss, say 60dB loss—are they less than legal, perhaps illegal? Maybe it just means that they can’t call themselves ‘deaf’. They have to call themselves…oh, here we go again.
Many Audiologists refer to us as patients. In recent years I have argued against that term, resisting what smacks of the medical model that says that I am broken and need to be fixed. Many people, especially Deaf people, don’t feel they need to be fixed—and that’s OK. Personally, I am concerned about my hearing. It’s not where I want it to be. I want to hear and communicate better – and to do that I need help. So yeah, I’m all for some fixing-up—and there’s no shame in that!
Someone told me recently that ‘patient’ is a term of respect. I can’t quite get the connection myself, especially since I know that the word comes from the Greek for ‘one who suffers’. But hey, professionals, if respect is what you feel for me, then you will have no problem with involving me in decisions related to my own course of care.
I use many terms to describe myself but I can tell you what I’m not: a broken person, or a lesser person than someone who can hear. And I no longer care what term anyone uses to describe themselves. Who am I to say, “you’re not supposed to use that term—it’s so yesterday.” What I do care about is that the person has the strength to identify in, some way, their communication needs. That’s more important than finding a single, accurate word that fits all of us.
And you can call me whatever you want, as long as it’s delivered with respect. My humanity does not need to be fixed. But I do want to hear, so I will graciously accept all the help that is respectfully offered.
