I’ve always had a bit of a distant relationship with cinema, and I’ve long joked with friends that it took me many years to realise that you’re actually supposed to listen to what characters say in films. For a long time I purely admired the pictures, which of course, is only half the story.
I mention this because recently I’ve been fascinated by the things we can miss when our attention is placed elsewhere. Only last week was I in the wonderful National Theatre enjoying a play – The Antipodes, for those curious – when my friend (hearing and autistic) was asking about a high-pitched ringing playing out throughout the show. The sound, it turns out, was another guest’s hearing aid whistling, though naturally, I didn’t hear it. What often goes unnoticed – or rather, unheard – by deaf people can be quite interesting indeed.
I say this with reference to a news story which surfaced in the US last week. A deaf lady, unaware that her toilet was running, later went on to receive a $5,000 bill for the water. Thankfully a local community group agreed to pay the sum, but it did have me thinking about the little things around us we don’t pick up on, and the impact this can have.
I’ve often been met by the retort of having ‘selective hearing’ when I join a conversation when my name is mentioned, or only hear one aspect of a discussion rather than the bigger picture, but it does raise an interesting point about what we can miss when our focus is in a particular spot.
We’ve always heard about concentration fatigue, for example, so in a way, it doesn’t surprise me that focussing so intensely on one task can lead to us missing another. We’ve all been engrossed in a good book to then miss something happening around us, or experienced that typical ‘under our nose’ phenomena when struggling to find a household item.
Though I suppose what’s interesting – and indeed, an important distinction to make – is the difference between what we cannot hear, and what we miss in relation to our attention being elsewhere.
To refer back to the theatre example, I wonder if I was in the same auditorium again and aware of the whistling hearing aid, whether it was something I’d hear if I was actively focussing on that instead of the play, or whether it’s just one of those sounds I genuinely couldn’t hear.
It likely sounds a bit bizarre, or indeed obvious, but focus in relation to our deafness is an interesting and important thing to consider, and is understandably included in a lot of deaf awareness resources as a way to aid our understanding of a conversation.
So, rather than conclude this week’s article with a strong statement (there isn’t really one when discussing something as general as the things we do and do not hear), I’d be curious to know in the comments below: what’s one thing you didn’t notice, and at what cost? What’s your ‘running toilet’ moment?
Photo by Ollie Cole.
By Liam O’Dell. Liam is a mildly deaf freelance journalist and blogger from Bedfordshire. He wears bilateral hearing aids and can be found talking about disability, theatre, politics and more on Twitter and on his website.
MW
November 13, 2019
Mine was the electric toothbrush left buzzing away in the bathroom unaware because I don’t use my hearing aids when having a good wash. Then of course using my hearing aids in another room one doesn’t hear it. Only to find when I next go into the bathroom I get to hear strange noises I have to ask my partner what it is. The electric toothbrush!! Like you say …little things. I too had my taps left running on the meter.
The kitchen when the pan is boiling over, the fan hood humming away still and once through the night. grrrrrrr.
Chris
November 13, 2019
Being born deaf it took me a long time to realise that whilst i couldn’t overhear others they could overhear me.
Jenny
December 3, 2019
Toilet leak and £300 bill that was later waived got me this year! The struggle is real.