Tharā Gabriel: Neither ‘Deafie’ nor ‘Oral’ – What am I?

I’m sure we’re all familiar with the terms ‘deafie’ and ‘oral’ and we each personally subscribe to one category or the other all while having our own interpretations of what each mean. For those of you who aren’t familiar, here’s a little insight.

The term ‘deafie’ is a culturally specific term that proud deaf people use to describe themselves.

It’s important to mention that ‘deafie’ is generally a community-specific term and as a rule of thumb should not be used by a hearing person to refer to a deaf person. In this instance it can carry a negative connotation and be derogatory depending on context, intent and your relationship with that person.

Similarly, you might hear a deaf or hard of hearing person use the term “hearie” to refer to hearing persons but again, usually only within our community; let’s call it deaf slang.

Now the term ‘oral’ is short for ‘oralist’ which by definition refers to a deaf person who uses speech and lip-reading to communicate rather than sign language.

Like ‘deafie’ this can sometimes carry a negative connotation within our community as ‘orals’ are sometimes thought of as “traitors” to deaf culture. It is thought that their renouncement of sign language and choice to communicate as hearing people do, essentially perpetuates hearing privilege (yes, that’s a thing!) But that’s a whole other issue for another article!

Now that we’ve cleared that up, maybe you all can help me find my niche.

As I mentioned in my last article I am a proud hard of hearing person who doesn’t wear hearing aids – although I own them. I can’t sign and live in a society where deaf awareness is basically non-existent and deaf and hard of hearing people are few and far between. If you’re wondering how I get on, well I describe my communication style as lip-reading and winging it!

I can actually see some deafies worldwide shaking their heads and admonishing me for opting out of hearing aids/not signing but don’t judge me just yet!

After spending the entirety of my secondary school life without hearing aids, I was a bit apprehensive when I was outfitted with a pair at 19 years old.

Although I grew up seeing my mother use hers and always figured it would someday be inevitable for me, by then I felt I could operate well enough without them. By that time I was a full-time student in the thick of my BSc at The University of the West Indies, pushing through 3-hour lectures and 5-course semesters.

Now we all know that it is impossible to read lips and take written notes at the same time. Generally lectures could not be recorded and lecturers didn’t share slides with students. So how did I get my notes? I used a recipe that has served me well; I had at least one hearing friend I could rely on and I sat at the front of all my classes and lipread my lecturers.

During my BSc I had two close (hearing) friends who are worth mentioning here; Sparkleann James and Shallon Taitt. We did the same Major (main course of study or specialisation) and so we did all the same courses.

We would all sit together and had a standing agreement. Since I read the fastest and have a somewhat photographic memory, I would copy the notes off the slides before they changed and more often than not I was able to get it all. Between them both they would copy the lecturer’s notes and any relevant information stemming from class discussions; then we would share and swap.

Out of classes, they would filter group conversations, repeat what others said when necessary and unwaveringly remind everyone who tried to interact with me to look at me and not block their mouths when speaking. If it weren’t for those two I’m not sure I would have made it through university with my sanity intact!

This was all well and good – until I was forced to venture into my Minor (secondary area of study) course lectures all alone. The semester these courses began coincided with the receipt of my hearing aids so I decided to try them out. I will never forget the first time I donned them – and not for good reasons!

On that fateful day I was sitting in an auditorium with over 100 students attempting to follow a lecture on Human Communication (the irony is not lost on me!) The first 5 minutes of students filtering into class was murder on my ears but I thought it wouldn’t last long so I popped them out and waited.

Next came the microphone. Normally any PA system sounds muffled to me and I can never make anything out; with my hearing aids it was a million times worse! It sounded like deep, droning, angry static with sparse words, bass and treble all jumbled together. I really wanted to make an effort so I adjusted the volume and persevered.

Then the lecturer asked a contentious question and the cacophony of noises which ensued was enough to give me an instant headache while bringing me to tears and forcing me to leave the lecture altogether! The constant buzz of voices, the crackle of pages turning, the squeaky desks opening and closing, combined with the lecturer over the mic was such a culture shock and a painful one at that. In addition to a searing headache my ears physically hurt!

I didn’t give up though. I made a visit to the Trinidad and Tobago Association for the Hearing Impaired (DRETCHI) and had them serviced and recalibrated so I could try again. It didn’t work.

My parents took me to a private audiologist who made a more targeted recommendation for hearing aids suited to my hearing loss. I was so excited about the these new hearing aids and set my heart on a green pair. That excitement disappeared when she told us the cost: TTD$8000.00 a pop! That was $16,000.00 I knew my parents did not have.

I am not ungrateful for the free ones issued by the state but based on my personal experience I really couldn’t describe them as anything but generic and substandard. So I was left with a choice; wear these or do without. I chose to do without.

As someone who operated without hearing aids for most of her life I decided never to wear them again and my personal opinion is that I don’t need them. Later on I opted to wear them at a few important meetings and one or two interviews but I gave up on that as well.

Six years later, during my MSc I went back to my original recipe; my one trusty, mention-worthy hearing friend in this case being Latoya Smith. Fortunately, I had the added benefits of smaller classes and recording my lectures for transcription by an assigned student assistant from the university’s disability support unit.

I can honestly say that I do not feel left out or disenfranchised in any way. I have adapted my life to suit and I enjoy it to the fullest regardless of what I can and cannot hear. With my vivid imagination, Subtitles for the Deaf and Hard of Hearing (SDH) and sound memories from my earlier life the world is my oyster!

But this brings me back to my question, where do I fit in? Internationally I may be accepted as a ‘Deafie’ but here society believes that all Deaf people can sign and they wear hearing aids. I do neither.

Does that make me ‘Oral’? If I were to ascribe to the online definition of an ‘oralist’ I could possibly fit into that category. But I don’t prefer lipreading and speech over sign language.

As I mentioned before, I would learn Trinidad and Tobago Sign Language if it was accessible, affordable and necessary to me. The fact that I cut through barriers to achieve what society either consciously or unconsciously classes as unattainable for Deaf persons also makes me overqualified for the jobs which have historically been offered to members of the deaf community. This means I never interact with TTSL speakers; who would I speak to?

Is there terminology to describe this unique position? What do you call those of us “in limbo” neither fully part of one world nor the other? I would love to know!

Aside from family, I am forced to work and operate solely in a hearing world filled with people whose first reaction is wide-eyed surprise and a “I wuda neva guess!” when alerted that I’m hard of hearing. Why? Because below all the latent societal misconceptions surrounding deaf persons lies my favourite – “but you don’t look deaf!” – which also happens to be the title of my next article.

Stay tuned to read about my on-going journey of shattering Deaf stereotypes!

Till next time!

T.G.

Tharā Gabriel is a Creative Communications and Administrative Professional from Trinidad and Tobago living with genetic, progressive Sensorineural Hearing Loss. She sings in her family band and plays guitar-even though she can’t hear all the notes! Ultimately she loves shattering stereotypes about the way deaf people should look and behave.