Stuart Wragg: Tales from a working-life with partial deafness (BSL)

I was on the cusp of turning ten when a dinner-table conversation with my mother transformed my outlook on working life. I don’t know how we got onto the subject of aviation careers but somehow we did.

As the British trifecta of fish fingers, chips and beans were served, my mother casually mentioned, “being deaf in one ear could make it hard to become a pilot.” The comment stopped me in my tracks. Until then I’d held the naive belief that any career was within my reach. And while I hadn’t harbored a burning desire to soar through the skies, the mere notion a career might be beyond my reach left me concerned.

After that moment, I started to question everything about the world of work. I recall watching the news one evening and noticed the earpiece worn by the presenter. After some research I discovered how the earpiece is used to receive instructions from producers whilst on air.

This seemed hugely problematic. How could I possibly handle such a set-up? How could I possibly listen to the Prime Minister answer my questions live on TV while simultaneously receiving instructions in my single-working ear? This concern cut deep as while I had no desire to become an airline pilot I did rather fancy myself as a future TV presenter.

As fate would have it, working life took a different trajectory. In my teenage years, I found myself working in a department store. At the cash register, I often failed to hear what customers were saying. Although this worked in my favour on many occasions, my deafness didn’t bode well for the store’s reputation for excellent customer service.

One memorable incident involved hanging a mirror in the pictures and mirrors department. I was standing on a stepladder attempting to hang a new mirror when a customer approached me from my deaf side. After struggling to get my attention the customer coughed loudly and in a moment of misfortune, the mirror slipped from my grasp. Embarrassed, I consigned the mirror to the damaged goods section in the stockroom. I couldn’t help but wonder if it was me or the passive-aggressive cougher who would receive the bad luck associated with the broken mirror.

Later in life, employment took me into an office setting. I once started a job where my desk faced a wall, sandwiched between two colleagues, one to my left and one to my right. Naturally, I spent my days freely engaging with the colleague to my left while unintentionally ignoring my colleague to my deaf right-side. After disclosing my hearing impairment at a work social function some months later, my right-seated colleague revealed her initial misjudgment. Apparently she’d assumed I was just plain rude.

Beyond the office, my deafness has resulted in many professional mishaps. As a graduate I was tasked with transporting copies of a proposal to an important client meeting. I opted to travel by rail as the clients’ office was close to my home and only required one simple change of train.

Unfortunately, the trip ended up being anything but simple. Everything was fine until I missed the announcement of the station I needed to change at. After disembarking at the next stop I quickly realised I wouldn’t make the meeting if I continued by rail. Panicked, I scoured the station for signs of a taxi company but all I could find was the business card of a local chauffeur company pinned to a noticeboard.

With no other option available (these were pre-Uber days) I called the number and was swiftly collected by a large executive car with blacked-out windows. I rolled up to the meeting with minutes to spare. Nobody suspected a thing until I submitted my expense report with a note promising to explain the claim.

Even inside the office, navigating working-life with partial deafness is not without challenge. I’ve contemplated whether a hearing dog would help. Like a support animal I imagine my hearing dog would sit at my feet and gently paw me when someone approached my deaf side. I’ve since decided however that the prospect of a cute, lovable companion acting as an office-place distraction is likely to outweigh the benefits. In the grand scheme of it, perhaps becoming a TV presenter wouldn’t have been that hard after all.

Stuart is a sustainability consultant, piano player and keen runner.  Born deaf in his right ear, Stuart has found his deafness leads to more amusing experiences than major challenges. Originally from the UK, Stuart moved to Australia in 2010 and lives in Sydney with his partner Andy.