Listening Differently: Embracing the Power of Sign Language

As we strolled through the village, passing the hearing aid shop, Jessica suddenly asked, “Are you even wearing your hearing aid?” I smiled and said, “Nope, haven’t worn it in four months.”

She knew I’d had this particular hearing aid for five years, so it was definitely due for an upgrade. She wanted to make sure I didn’t need to pop into the shop to start the process. But instead of the usual “Why aren’t you wearing it?” question I was expecting, she just assumed I was comfortable without it. I was a bit surprised by her comment, but it was refreshing! We kept chatting, and I explained why I was fine not wearing it. She listened and cheered me on.

It’s such a great feeling when someone gets it. Although, this wasn’t the first time I’ve had this conversation, and it hasn’t always been so positive. Let me take you back to the beginning.

I’ve had therapists encourage me to get a hearing aid, thinking that hearing more might help me function better, especially since I’m visually impaired. Hearing specialists, however, have told me that a hearing aid wouldn’t make much of a difference. But the hearing aid shop was willing to let me try one out, and at the time, I was thrilled with the results. I could suddenly hear little things—the hum of the fridge, the ticking of the clock, and birds outside chirping. Music sounded richer, and one-on-one conversations were so much clearer. Instead of catching just three or four words, I could follow entire sentences! It was comfortable, it helped, and I wore it faithfully for the next four and a half years.

But as the five-year mark approached, I started to notice its limitations. It wasn’t great in noisy environments, and it often overwhelmed me. I’d find myself itching to take it out. Worse, it didn’t give me any sense of where sounds were coming from—if anything, it made that harder! This made getting around trickier than it needed to be. And every time I got sick (thanks, COVID), I lost a bit more hearing, which meant constant adjustments to the hearing aid.

Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who’d noticed my struggles. Both my mom and Jessica knew I had learned sign language and found it helpful in certain situations, though I never asked them to learn it. But sometime into my hearing aid journey, Mom decided to take the same sign language course I had. She had a background in it and wanted to brush up. I’ve never needed her to use it, but we’ve had a lot of fun with it, and we’re both still learning. Then, a couple of years later, Jessica joined the club. She thought it would be a useful skill for her job, and before long, we were practicing signs to prepare for our vacation! Having two of the most important people in my life embrace sign language made me feel less disabled and more accepted.

This feeling only grew stronger as I spent more time with my Deaf and hard-of-hearing friends. Many in the Deaf community don’t see Deafness as a disability. They can do everything hearing people can—except, well, hear. They have jobs, families, homes, and yes… they can even drive! The real barrier is not their inability to hear but other people’s inability to speak their language. We all learn a second language in school, and some people go on to become translators, traveling the world or translating famous works of literature. If that’s so “normal,” why does learning sign language seem so daunting to some? It’s just another language! If more people learned it, Deafness wouldn’t be viewed as a disability because there would be no barriers—no limitations.

During my most frustrating moments, when I was ready to shove my hearing aid in a drawer for good, I kept thinking about what I’d learned from the Deaf community. So I started asking myself: “Why am I putting myself through this discomfort? Am I just doing it so I don’t have to ask people to repeat themselves?” If so, that meant I was wearing it for their benefit, not mine. So, on one rainy summer afternoon, after Jessica had gone hunting for my hearing aid outside (I’d lost it), I made a decision.

A very soggy Jessica handed me the hearing aid, and I thanked her. I’d been genuinely freaked out about losing it for good. We humans tend to panic when things are out of our control, right? I also worried that I might struggle without it, especially at the day center where things can get busy. But knowing it was nearing the end of its life and not thrilled about the cost of a new one, I decided to wear it only when absolutely necessary. Jessica didn’t question it, and by the time I went back to the day center, I’d forgotten to even bring it with me. The funny part? No one noticed! I’d taught a few people there some basic signs a few weeks before, and they were so enthusiastic about it that I felt completely accepted. Not a single person asked if I was wearing my hearing aid.

Four months later, and my hearing aid is still sitting in its box. Sure, I don’t hear the birds at dawn, the fridge hum doesn’t interrupt my reading, and let’s face it, we’ve replaced all our clocks with digital ones anyway. One day, Siri might have to type her reminders to me instead of yelling, “Hey! Close the bathroom window!” And there may come a time when I can’t wear headphones for gaming anymore. But I’ll deal with those things when the time comes.

For now, I’m embracing the joy of just being myself. My ears don’t need “fixing,” and I’m certainly not going to wear an uncomfortable hearing aid to try and fix them.

This is the part where you might expect me to tell you to go learn sign language, but… I’m not going to. I do believe that if more people learned to sign, the world would be a less barrier-filled place for the Deaf community. But I’ve come to realize that pushing someone into doing something they’re not ready for doesn’t help anyone. I’ll just say this: sign language isn’t scary, strange, or difficult. It’s simply another way to connect. My hope is that this blog, at the very least, entertained you, and maybe even planted a little seed of curiosity. Who knows, maybe one day you’ll find yourself reaching for that seed and letting it grow. No pressure, though—you’ll know when the time is right.

Blog written by MustLoveDon: Edited with ChatGPT