A few months ago, I sat at a table in a posh house in south London, opposite a writer, a director and two well-known actors.
This was the first day of their rehearsals, and because there was a short scene involving a deaf character, I had been asked to give them some background on deaf culture and communication.
I arrived during lunch, so before our meeting began, I sat with them informally as they shared backstage stories and gossip. On the surface, this was a great opportunity to break the ice and get to know them, but instead, for me, it quickly turned into an excruciating experience.
I found myself fiddling with a pen; taking my glasses on and off; reading the entire script again from beginning to end. For half an hour, I didn’t say a word, and became increasingly desperate for this group conversation to end. Why?
I couldn’t hear, or lipread, a thing.
The house had wooden floors and high ceilings, straight out of Grand Designs. Easy on the eye perhaps, but this feature made sounds echo around the room. Even though I was beside these people, I couldn’t *quite* hear them through my hearing aids. Then there was the way their conversation went back and forth, so quickly that often, by the time I’d turned to lipread them, someone else had interjected.
As the male actor had the other three in hysterics, I felt like I was listening to an auditory jigsaw with too many missing pieces to see the whole picture. It was as though I’d found myself back in drama club at university (where I could never hear the backstage whispers), or the crowded sixth form at school.
Reverting to type, I grinned gamely as though I found the actor funny too. Could they tell that my eyes weren’t smiling? How did I seem to them, I wondered, as I sat there? Aloof? Uninterested? Shy? Rude? Truth is, I’d have loved to be in on the joke.
Then, salvation. Our meeting started. For the next half hour, I explained some of the quirks of deaf culture, such as why deaf people always congregate in kitchens at parties (yes, really), and how as a deaf person, you can sometimes feel cut off from the hearing world. The last bit being a tad ironic, really.
Now, I understood everything they said. How? Why?
Well, once the meeting had started, I was in control. I was able to direct the context and topic of the conversation, making it far easier to guess any words I missed. If I did miss anything, I simply asked them to repeat themselves (it’s a lot more awkward to do this during a group conversation you are not contributing to).
The way people talk in meetings is different, too. The rhythm of the lunchtime conversation was incredibly varied as stories and jokes were told. Now there was a measured, steady pace to what was said, and I had time to see, and hear, almost everything.
For the first half hour I was in that room, I was a very quiet person. For the second half hour, I was able to be relatively confident and outgoing – the opposite. You could say I was like an auditory Dr Jekll and Mr Hyde.
As I walked away from the meeting, to the tube, I thought about how, as a deaf person, even when you think you know every trick in the book, you still can’t avoid finding yourself in situations that are completely beyond your control.
I also wondered how different life might be, but for those little conversations I can’t quite get. At the very least, I’d have one or two more stories to tell. Possibly involving Daniel Craig. If I heard that right…
Charlie Swinbourne is the editor of Limping Chicken, as well as being a journalist and award-winning scriptwriter. He writes for the Guardian and BBC Online, and as a scriptwriter, penned My Song, Coming Out and Four Deaf Yorkshiremen.
The Limping Chicken is supported by Deaf media company Remark!, training and consultancyDeafworks, provider of sign language services Deaf Umbrella, the National Deaf Children’s Society’s Look, Smile Chat campaign, and the National Theatre’s captioned plays.
John Walker
June 26, 2012
Why did you let them get away with it for the first half an hour? People are flexible enough to include other people, more flexible than we realise. In fact, they might have learnt something more, if you were more assertive. It wasn’t fair to keep you there, like a rabbit in a magician’s hat, struggling to follow the conversation.
Perhaps it will come with time when you are more comfortable with being the deaf person in the room.
Editor
June 26, 2012
Interesting response! Well, the first half hour was informal. I’d barely met them (I’d just been introduced) then suddenly people were telling their stories. I’m not sure when I’d have cut in to give them a deaf awareness lesson, it was all fast paced and I felt it would have been hard to interject without seeming rude. The other thing I’d say is that at the start of the half hour, I didn’t know how long all this chatter would last… perhaps if I’d known it was going to be that long I’d have said something at the start!
John Walker
June 26, 2012
Rude? What is rude about being a human being with a desire to communicate. The fact they have left you on the table waiting for half an hour while they satisfy their urge for gossip is rude, especially if you are a guest.
You know, whenever you keep back and let it slide, you are taking responsibility for their communication inadequacies and you are giving out a message to say ‘deafness is my problem’. Alternatively, I would wait 5 minutes, to be polite, and then share with them that I am unable to follow the conversation and give a few tips. In that way, I made the communication issues ‘our problem’. It will most probably have cut short their period of gossip but at least it will give them an opportunity to respond, rather than continue in ignorance.
Editor
June 26, 2012
As I said in the article, I did my best to occupy myself so I’m not sure that they knew exactly why I wasn’t joining in! They might have wondered whether I could hear them, or they might have thought I was just shy! I can appreciate that we do all have a responsibility to be assertive, however in this case I also knew that at some point our meeting would start and then I’d get my chance to tell them about deaf life, communication and so on. So I did bide my time. Hopefully the message got through later on!
John Walker
June 26, 2012
I do take the point that you did ‘have your time’ to show what you are made of, which is a confident and inspiring young author at the start of his career. But at this stage in your career, is it ok for others to think you are just ‘shy’, when you are not? People are not that clever and don’t just work it out for themselves. So, they will make judgements about you as a person, which is worst.
Anyway, I would often bring an interpreter with me for these type of conversations for the very reason you have outlined in your article. It does add another dynamic but you get more access to the ‘gossip’. I have often found these conversations to be very uninteresting – to my great disappointment.
Many congratulations on your great site, it is a great conversation starter!
Jonathan Downie
June 26, 2012
As a hearing person, I had never thought of this. It actually reminds me of my time in France where, despite the fact I know French really well (I am a French-English conference interpreter) I consistently missed the “small talk” and reverted to exactly the same behaviour you mention here. So, no, I wouldn’t give you a hard time over it and I have to disagree with John’s reaction to this. Noone wants to be seen as “demanding” or make a scene.
I would actually wonder if the people round the table had thought of making a point of including you. My wife rocks at making sure people are included, especially when I talk too much. 😉 So, yeah, interesting post. In future, I will keep my eye out for a young writer reading the script to hard and fiddling with his pen!
John Walker
June 26, 2012
I was challenging Charlie to be more assertive, why is it that assertion is translated as being “seen as demanding or make a scene”? I would interpret that as being aggressive.
But you are right in thinking we need our ‘allies’ around the table to can help pull us into conversations that we might not be privy to.
Chris
June 26, 2012
Hi Charlie and John, if I might interject – as a very confident and now bordering on elderly (:)!) deaf person I have every sympathy with Charlie, if I had a pound for every time I’d found myself in the uncomfortable position he was in I could probably afford that posh South London home! It is really hard if you’ve missed the ‘opportunity’ to say something to get that back – Charlie I feel your pain. Maybe they will ‘get it’ after the session you had with them, but sadly they often don’t get it….Still we live and learn – yes John adding an interpreter is always a very clear indication for folk that there is a need for some thought to be given to how this conversation will be conducted! However, the point I believe you were making was how we become so very different depending on those around us – and it was a very interesting observation.
I have a similar ‘metamorphosis’ when attending the local hospital in the course of my work (assertive, confident, ‘in control’) and as a patient (quite the reverse!)
Cheers – Chris
John Walker
June 26, 2012
Chris – I still think we have a choice. In any situation, there is a decision between whether I want the situation to control my behaviours or whether I want to allow my true behaviours to influence the situation. Once you have accepted that there is a choice, you realise that there are things one can do.
Once I got into a situation where I didn’t follow the conversation and missed most of what was being said, I nodded and grinned all the way through. I was then asked a question and said yes without understanding what the question was about. I am not saying that Charlie would do this but it is what happened to me. I was challenged afterwards by a friend who said “I expected many things of your stature but I didn’t expect that”. It took me aback and I realised that other people would not accept this kind of behaviour from me, they expect me to be part of the conversation. So I started to look at what strategies I had available to me: 1. say something, 2. educate others with practical tips, 3. give others feedback so they know if they are getting through and how they could improve, 4. use humour to push people in the right direction, and so on..
I made a conscious decision that I would a. be honest in the nicest possible way and 2. never nod or grin through a conversation ever again. Charlie has taken the position that his behaviours are a product of his situation but I question whether a change in his behaviour could instead influence the situation for the better. As someone who has trained assertiveness, this is what it’s all about.
Liz
June 26, 2012
Although in some respects I agree that being more assertive is important, at the same time, I completely understand because it is really hard to stop the flow of hearing conversation to explain communication for deaf people. I’m generally quite a shy person, and sometimes (well, most of the time!) just can’t bring myself to stop the convo and ask people to be slower, or face me or stop covering their mouths. I don’t know if this is just because of being mainstreamed in a large hearing school (with an HIU) or if it’s just the shyness that I’m working hard to overcome, but it doesn’t come naturally to some people to be assertive in certain ways. Yes, people are often more than prepared to adapt, but sometimes, for whatever reason, a deaf person might feel uncomfortable about interrupting.
Krista
June 26, 2012
Charlie I always enjoy your writing and I have also found myself smiling and nodding through a conversation. As someone who has recently become almost deaf I am still figuring out how to get around my communication barriers and educate the hearing people I encounter day to day. I am working to overcome my natural shyness and introversion to communicate the way John suggests but it’s very hard for me. When someone tells a joke and the whole room is laughing just doesn’t feel like the right time to, in effect, point out that they have inadvertently been excluding me. It’s bound to make the other person feel a little bit bad no matter how polite and smiling I am when I say it. So sometimes rather than risk the other persons discomfort I choose to endure my own.
deaflinguist
July 3, 2012
Your last sentence gets to the nub of the matter, Krista. I came to the realisation many years ago that either I was uncomfortable or the other person(s) was/were. You may not necessarily see them again, so they only have a brief moment of being uncomfortable, and will learn something from it. The alternative is setting yourself up for a lifetime of these feelings and probably feeling worse each time. You’re worth as much as the next person.
The situation which crystallised it for me was university 25 years ago. Communication support would only be “allowed” in a seminar setting once I’d attended a seminar and demonstrated that I couldn’t cope. I pointed out that I knew it wasn’t going to work and outlined the reasons why. But I still had to “try”.
The seminar leader was clearly out of their comfort zone with the idea of communication support being present, but didn’t seem to mind that they would be humiliating me in front of my peers. Once I’d failed embarrassingly to participate, I asked whether it was worth wasting their time and mine with this farce, and did they want me to pass a degree or not in three years’ time?
Reader, I got my communication support. And I determined then and there never to let it happen again.
The thing is, being deaf forces you to be more outgoing. It’s so easy to become the wallflower and try not to upset people or be perceived as rude. But it’s rude of people not to include you and why should you be the one upset? It can all be done with a smile and everyone will remember your lovely smile!
Oh Dear
June 26, 2012
Oh dear !!.
You could have ‘told’ your brain that you are not bothered but instead described it as being ‘excruciating experience’ which indicate you were bothered. Too be blunt, that’s your own fault for being a ‘Muppet’. Either sit there looking like a ‘wallpaper’, or be assertive and say ‘hi. am I invisible’ with a smile, or take an interpreter.
Then you can have a ‘pleasant experience’ instead.
Editor
June 26, 2012
Ah yes Carl, I remember that theory at Deaffest..! Thank you for your supportive comments 😉
CART Provider
June 26, 2012
I am a CART provider. Group situations such as this are really tough for sure. Sometimes the chit-chat is the best thing that I caption for clients. They get that extra stuff. If I might interject a comment here, though, for those putting meetings together, whether small or large, it’s important that people understand a new group member’s communication needs — in this case the speaker for the group. Give them a heads up to face one another and take turns. They may not do it initially, but it begins the education process. Ultimately, Charlie, it seems you did prevail.
Gloria Davis
June 26, 2012
As a HOH person for about 35 years. I have started wearing a button, stating that I have hearing loss, and please face me and speak slowly. This is a constant reminder to others what the situation is all about. It may not totally help you get all the jokes, but I have to say that it does make people stop and notice. Nothing else seems to work for me in those situations.
Robert Mandara
July 3, 2012
With respect to Jonathan Downie’s comment above, I would just like to raise a glass to those rare and wonderful people who, when their group includes a deaf person, have the apparently effortless knack of making sure that the deaf person is included and updated on what’s going on. Furthermore, they manage to do it without making the deaf person feel awkward. I wish there were more of them!
Otherwise, I agree with every word you’ve said Charlie. I’ve always found it much easier to host meetings than to be in a meeting hosted by others. Being in control is the key.