Tharā Gabriel: But You Don’t Look Deaf!

How does a Deaf person look?

This might seem like a strange question within our community but it’s one that has come up many times in my hard of hearing existence. As I mentioned in a previous article, in Trinidad & Tobago being deaf is often associated with dumbness and in my lifetime I have repeatedly encountered the misconception that deaf people are similar in appearance to our differently abled compatriots with Down’s Syndrome.

Trust me, I can imagine the looks on your faces.

It is also believed that we all sound the same way; akin to seals – a mockery we all know and despise. Let me share a story.

Circa 2015, I was working as a Secretary at The University of the West Indies. Everyone in the main office was fully aware of my hearing status and also fully accommodating. Every now and then I would have to interact with other people from different faculties or departments and this was usually easy enough.

Each morning I would walk into campus grounds from the gate to my faculty building which took about 7 minutes or less. I would usually have my headphones in albeit still very alert regarding my surroundings.

There was an individual (let’s call them OA) who worked in one of the buildings along my route who would often deliver mail to my office. One day we had the following exchange:

OA: ​Mornin. Ah see yuh d oda day walkin by Admin. Ah was callin ​yuh but yuh wasn takin meh on.

Me:​ Morning. When? I didn’t see you.

OA: ​Yea. Ah call yuh bout 3 times.

Me:​ Well if I didn’t respond it’s because I didn’t hear you. I’m ​hearing impaired so if I’m not looking at you I won’t hear you.

OA:​ Wah? You lie!

Me:​ (with a deadpan expression) No. Really.

OA: ​Buh you doh look deaf!

Me:​ (with a confused expression) And how does a deaf person ​look exactly?

OA:​ I doh know, nuh like you. Dey does look kina funny.

Me:​ (with a disgusted expression) Riiiiiiiiiight.

At this point I deemed the conversation unfit to continue, stared blankly at OA and went on my way. I didn’t have it in me at that particular moment to rectify their ignorance.

A couple days later one of my immediate colleagues told me that OA came to them and complained about the fact that I lied to them and if I didn’t want to talk to them I just had to say so. Even after my colleague corrected them and let them know I was in fact hard of hearing, they still complained that they didn’t believe me and accused me of just being anti-social.

What is this cynical ignorance?!

First off, you’d note that I used the term “hearing impaired” to describe myself; something I never do with other deaf or hard of hearing people. I despise any terminology, like many of you, that describes us as less-than. But there’s another practice in Trinbagonian culture where persons use these terminologies flippantly.

The term “hard of hearing” is usually used by parents here and throughout the Caribbean to describe a stubborn child. So you’d often hear a mother say “Ah now tell yuh doh do dat! Yuh hard ah hearing?!”  similar to another phrase “yuh deaf awah?”

This means that every time I introduce myself as “hard of hearing” to a hearing person, there’s always a smirk or chuckle that precedes the question “what?” and then the exclamation “I wuda neva guess!”; of course you wouldn’t.

Secondly, note that even though I used the term “hearing impaired”, OA responded using the term “deaf”. This speaks to the issue I mentioned in my last article about hearing people not understanding that there are different types and degrees of hearing loss and that each of these terms carry different meanings for members of the deaf community.

Now I’ve been reading lips for an extremely long time and I often converse with people without ever having to mention that I’m hard of hearing. The fact that I don’t wear hearing aids also lends to the belief that I have normal hearing. So I understand their surprise. But the audism and demeaning stereotypes surrounding the way deaf people should look and behave irks me to no end!

Hearing readers, you all are probably wondering what audism is and whether or not you’ve been guilty of it at one point or another. Here’s a definition from Berke (2020) on verywellhealth.com:

“Audism is a term used to describe a negative attitude toward deaf or hard of hearing people. It is typically thought of as a form of discrimination, prejudice, or a general lack of willingness to accommodate those who cannot hear.”

Here are some examples: https://youtu.be/FOnFFvb7ojs

Are you guilty? Well, here’s an opportunity for change!

Deaf and hard of hearing people can look just the same as anyone else and yet still we are not one category. There are myriad degrees and causes of hearing loss and a deaf or hard of hearing person is not crippled in anyway. Yes we can have upper ear piercings and wear hearing aids. Yes we can have colourful hearing aids and cochlear implants because no, we’re not ashamed and not trying to hide them. Yes we have tattoos and we go to concerts. We sing, play instruments, listen to music, we talk on the phone and we drive.

We can sit next to you in class, work in the same offices as you and do the same jobs you do. The perceptiveness, creativity and artistic ability that we often have means that we can excel and surpass if accommodated and given the right opportunities. We are not less-than.

More often than not we are handicapped by lack of awareness and inclusion rather than our hearing status. It’s not physical disability, but rather a systemic and social disability. Our societal infrastructures are built to service hearing people, period.

I recently had a conversation with a friend who’s a Clinical Psychologist. He told me of an instance where he did an internship observing psychologists and there was a patient who needed a sign language interpreter. It so happened that it was the first time the psychologist had a deaf/hard of hearing patient and so no one knew what to do or how to engage with that person.

For him this raised a larger issue re the fact that there are no psychologists who can communicate via sign language and it means that in order to provide quality care, they are forced to introduce a third party which essentially disrupts the dynamics of what therapy is supposed to be. It also means that there is an entire segment of the population that is not being served.

Funnily enough, he is the only hearing person I have ever met who when told I was hard of hearing at the end of an interview responded, “Yes, I realised you were reading my lips”; bless his heart!

This was an example of an appropriate and welcome response as opposed to “But you don’t look deaf!” It meant that the conversation continued and flowed easily without discomfort or prejudice simply because of consciousness, tolerance and self-regulation on his part.

While it may not be that easy for the average hearing person, there are subtle tells when deaf or hard of hearing people are conversing. The most obvious one is that we never take our eyes off your face and more-so your mouth. If you look closely enough you’d probably see us bobbing our heads around trying to follow your lips as you turn your head and bend up or down while speaking. Also, we always ask you to look directly at us and not to block your mouth while speaking.

This brings me to the latest bane of our existence: MASKS! Oh how we hate them!

To be deaf or hard of hearing during COVID-19 is to live in a silent world. And here in Trinidad & Tobago, it’s worse. While some countries have established regulatory concessions for deaf and hard of hearing persons as it relates to wearing masks, the thought is non-existent here.

As people who rely heavily upon facial cues and lip-reading to communicate, the necessitation of masks has rendered us isolated in an entirely different sense.

It was actually one COVID-related masked encounter that prompted me to start writing and raising awareness here at home. I’ll be sharing that story in my next article “I can’t see you…so I can’t hear you”.

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.