Insight: Why being told “you look hearing” is not a compliment (BSL)

I still remember the first time I walked into a deaf club. I was a teenager, quite excited to meet other deaf people for the first time but I was nervous too. I went to mainstream school with a deaf unit growing up and the prospect of going to the deaf club felt exciting for me. I imagined it as somewhere we would all feel the same.

I remember how I walked in, smiled, said hello to a group of people who were playing games. And almost immediately, someone looked at me and asked: “Are you hearing? You look hearing.”

I didn’t really know what to say. I think I laughed it off and just said I was deaf. But it stuck with me. Because what does that actually mean — you look hearing?

It kind of stung when they said it because the underlying feeling that I picked up on was – you don’t look like one of us.

I thought I had forgotten all about that experience but I recently started a new job in a large organisation with other deaf people and when I was introducing myself – in sign and speech – someone piped up and said – ‘are you deaf or hearing? You look hearing.’

And I felt like I was 13 years old all over again. What do they mean exactly, when they ask me that? Is it because my voice isn’t what they expect?

Does it mean my face isn’t animated enough? Or just… that I don’t look like I belong here?

Whatever the intention, it doesn’t come across well to me. Again, I took it as someone saying ‘you’re not one of us.’

Because what are they saying, really? You don’t speak like us, you don’t sign like us, you seem… different. Does my signing look stiff like a beginner to BSL? Or do I sign like an interpreter – someone who can sign but isn’t really ‘one of us’?

It’s hard to explain, but it feels like I’m being quietly judged. Like someone’s looked at me, taken a quick mental snapshot, and decided I don’t quite match what they think I should be. It’s not nice.

What makes it worse is that it’s often said so casually, like it’s harmless. Maybe even meant as a compliment. But it never feels like one.

It reminds me of comments I used to get from hearing people when I was younger — usually teenagers, if I’m honest — saying things like, “you don’t look deaf,” or, “you’re too good looking to be deaf.” How stupid was that?

Too good looking to be deaf? What does that even mean? That deaf people are meant to look a certain way? That deafness comes with a “look,” and that look isn’t attractive?

It sounds ridiculous when you say it out loud, but it all comes from the same place — this idea that deafness is something visible, something you can spot instantly if you know what to look for.

But you can’t. There is no one way to “look Deaf” or “look hearing.” And honestly, why are we still acting like there is?

Deaf people will speak differently and sign differently. We will all communicate differently because we’ve all had different upbringings, different access to language, different experiences growing up.

Some of us grew up signing from day one. Some of us didn’t. Some find it easy to shift between the deaf and hearing worlds, some don’t.

And as someone who is a bit of an ‘in-betweener’ I do struggle with finding somewhere that I feel I truly belong.

So when someone says, “you look hearing,” it’s not just an observation. It’s a judgement. It’s measuring me against an expectation I didn’t even know I was supposed to meet!

Why can’t we just accept that Deaf people are different from each other?

Why do we expect everyone to look, sound, or sign the same?

There isn’t one way to be Deaf. There never has been. So maybe instead of trying to work out where someone fits — deaf or hearing — we let people introduce themselves in their own way and we take them as they are, without trying to label them in the first five seconds.

Because being told what you “look like” says far more about other people’s expectations than it ever will about who you actually are.

This blog has been written anonymously as part of the Insight series – created by Assistant editor Rebecca A Withey.

If you have a story, experience or viewpoint you would like to anonymously share please email Rebecca on  rebecca@rawithey.com

Image courtesy of Pexels