Hannah Fisher: How my hearing loss led me to politics (BSL)

At the tender age of two, my life took an unexpected turn when I contracted meningococcal septicaemia. The illness left me with severe/profound hearing loss, forever changing the way I experience the world.

As I grew older, I discovered that lipreading was my superpower—an ability to bridge the gap between sound and meaning. This skill became invaluable as I pursued my education, embarked on further education in visual communication: graphic design, and eventually found myself working in politics, navigating the complexities of the field as a deaf woman. 

Lipreading became my lifeline throughout my academic journey. Equipped with hearing aids, radio aids and the determination to succeed, I manoeuvred the challenges of the classroom, relying on visual cues and the movements of people’s lips to grasp the spoken word. It wasn’t always easy, but I refused to let my hearing loss hinder my education.

However, the niggling self-doubt in my mind often kept me awake at night, Googling “What jobs are good for deaf people?”. After finishing school, I decided to pursue a degree in graphic design—a field where creativity and visual communication reign supreme. A job suitable for a Deaf person, Google says.    

Having graduated in lockdown with no career prospects on the horizon as the world halted to a standstill, I found myself working in a care home during the challenging times of the COVID-19 pandemic. The face masks became a barrier to effective communication for me as a lipreader. The muffled voices and obscured facial expressions made it incredibly challenging to understand and connect with staff and residents, as well as being able to hear the emergency bells down three flights of stairs. Not a good job for a deaf person, Google says.

However, I had to adapt, seeking alternative means of communication such as written notes and gestures. Despite these obstacles, I remained committed to providing the best care possible, finding innovative ways to ensure the residents felt heard and understood and were safe. As exhausting and frustrating as working as a carer with these obstacles was, it was the turning point in the belief of my own capabilities. All jobs are suitable jobs for a deaf person, I say. 

My passion for making a difference in people’s lives eventually led me to politics. Inspired by the idea of enacting change on a larger scale, I embraced the opportunity to work as a campaign manager.

As a deaf woman, navigating the political landscape presents its own set of unique challenges. Political meetings, debates, and public engagements often lack the necessary accommodations for individuals like me. This has now fuelled my determination to advocate for accessibility and inclusivity within the political sphere, not only for myself but for the entire deaf community. All jobs are suitable jobs for a Deaf person, with the right support in place, we say. 

Navigating the world of politics as a deaf woman is an ongoing learning experience. It has required resilience, perseverance, and a strong belief in my abilities. I have faced scepticism and the occasional doubter who questioned my capacity to contribute effectively when I gazed puzzlingly at my wildly inaccurate captioning app on my phone during a meeting. But with each challenge, I’ve used it as an opportunity to prove that being deaf doesn’t diminish my skills or my value as a member of society. 

Through it all, I remain committed to breaking down barriers and advocating for accessibility within politics and beyond. We must continue to challenge the status quo, urging for equal representation and the inclusion of diverse voices in decision-making processes. 

As I continue my path in politics, I remain hopeful for a future where accessibility is not an afterthought but an integral part of the political landscape. I believe we can create a world where every individual, regardless of their hearing abilities, has a seat at the table and their voices are valued. By embracing our differences, we strengthen the foundations. Let’s stop focussing on what deaf people can’t do, because us deaf people can do just about anything that our hearing counterparts can do.