My name is Lauren Sherwood. I’m pursuing a Bachelor of Science in Geography and Professional Writing at the University of Victoria in British Columbia. A few years ago, I participated in a talent contest. I was inspired by Gael Hannan, whom my parents had seen at a conference, to write a comedic monologue on living with hearing loss – and I won! This article recently appeared in the Victoria Time-Colonist (reprinted here with permission) and I was thrilled to see how it resonated with many young people with hearing loss. I’m honored to share it this week on hearinghealthmatters.org.
I am one of an estimated 3.5 million hard-of-hearing Canadians.
This doesn’t mean I don’t hear people. Every day, I hear conversations and arguments and lectures and cussing all around me. And of all the words that stream past, the most hurtful aren’t swear words.
Like almost everyone else, I swear. But the two words that I would never say to someone else and which I can’t stand hearing are “Never Mind.”
Of course, I’m going to miss things during a conversation. Sometimes I’ll let it go, but other times I want to be included, so I ask, “Sorry? What was that? Can you repeat yourself?” And when I hear, “Oh, never mind. It wasn’t that important,” it shuts me down.
I was born with a moderate to severe hearing loss in the high- and mid-range frequencies. It wasn’t until I was five that they discovered I was hard of hearing and needed hearing aids. I went through elementary and high school using an FM system — a receiver boot that attaches to the hearing aids and a transmitter mike that the teacher wears. Most of my classmates were curious about my hearing aids and the FM system, and I was always happy to answer questions. At one point, I may have had a classmate believing I could get radio on the system.
At university, I used the FM system, note-takers and a fantastic program called Typewell. Transcribers would come to my classes and type on their computer what the professor was saying. It would show up on my computer and I would receive a copy of the transcript after class. Typewell brought my learning up to a whole new level, even though sometimes the keyboard shortcuts act up, showing “priests” for “parasites.”
Outside of school, I’ve had jobs ranging from cosmetician at a drugstore in Osoyoos (a town in the interior of British Columbia) to front-desk attendant at a resort in Fairmont Hot Springs. I’ve volunteered for many events and organizations such as Best Buddies, Desert Half Triathlons, and the Society of Geography Students.
In August 2013, I was crowned one of three British Columbia Ambassadors. The program promotes self-esteem, motivation, volunteering and post-secondary education for young adults. Competitors are judged on their public speaking, a B.C. knowledge exam, talent and an interview with the judges. As I don’t have any “extraordinary” talent, I performed a comedy monologue about my hearing loss and the hilarious situations I find myself in sometimes (such as my brother unplugging the vacuum and waiting to see how long it took me to notice).
So why am I telling you my life story? To show that I’m the same as you. I sleep in on weekends, procrastinate on my assignments, and binge on Netflix. The only difference is I’m hard of hearing.
Through all my experiences, I’ve found my hearing loss helps me to stand out, gives me a unique perspective on issues and is a great topic for an icebreaker (I’m never at a loss when the game is “What’s one unique thing about you?”).
My hearing loss is something I was born with and I have no idea what “normal” hearing is like — but I imagine it’s loud!
One of my favorite things to do, after a long day of active listening (when you’re hard of hearing, passive listening doesn’t exist), is take off my hearing aids and let silence descend around me. It’s similar to taking off tight shoes when you get home after being on your feet for a long time.
I work every day to hear what is going on around me and it is only when I’m at home that I can fully relax.
I’m a social person. I like knowing what’s going on around me, being part of what’s going on, and it hurts when someone is unwilling to repeat themselves. It makes me feel as if I’m less than them, or that they can’t be bothered to make that little extra effort.
Being hard of hearing means you live in two worlds. Every day, I balance these two worlds and do my best to catch what everyone is saying and take part in conversations. There will always be times when I just can’t hear what was said and I will ask someone to repeat themselves.
So please, don’t mutter: “Never mind.”