Why it is so difficult for hearing people to “really” understand HoH people

Somewhere on the vast Internet and all the platforms I have visited I read someone saying that the gap between the hearing and the hard of hearing people mostly occurs due to the fact that hearing people understand hearing loss intellectually, but not emotionally. 

It made me reflect upon it, since I have experienced my own challenges with my family, trying to make them understand what an emotional impact my hearing loss has had upon me. It has been quite a struggle and finally I also understood why. It’s difficult to experience hearing loss as a hearing person. Of course, struggling with understanding language in a loud environment is something that most people experience, but since it’s normal and most people react the same in noisy environments, it’s not something to feel excluded about. 

In recent years, there’s one favorite analogy I like to use to make people try to understand a bit better the emotional impact of living with hearing loss in a hearing world. 

Imagine you have started learning a language, let's say Spanish. You have reached a decent level of B2 and can express yourself quite easily and coherently. Let’s say you meet a group of Spaniards and want to practice your language skills. Since you are expressing yourself with such an ease, they conclude that you understand everything and talk in their natural way: fast, shortening the words, using slang or sociolects etc. Now, imagine these people were your coworkers, your friends, your family, the people on the street. Not being able to fully understand and participate, although you do understand some or most words and maybe even the context of what it’s talked about, how do you feel? I will guess and say: most likely you feel frustrated, with yourself for not being able to understand everything, but also with the others for not being considerate enough to notice that you’re struggling to follow. You become tired of being so focused and start feeling a bit unworthy because you’re not able to participate in the discussion and “stand up for yourself”. 

Now, the good thing is, you can definitely stop them and tell them that you don’t understand and you would prefer to switch to the common language, let’s say English. Most likely they will be considerate and respect your wish, while not thinking that anything is wrong with you, since you’re still learning, and mastering a new language is difficult. You keep in mind that you can improve your Spanish and at some point will be able to participate and understand better. Thus, you’re proud of yourself for being courageous enough to get out of your comfort zone while also happy that you can return to comfort the moment the struggle becomes too much. 

The hard of hearing people don’t have neither the hope of substantially improving their hearing, no matter how hard they try, nor the option of telling people to switch to another, common language. It’s so limiting and knowing that this is as much as we can improve in the communication, despite all the technology there is, is just defeating and sometimes feels hopeless. Of course, there are ways to help the communication between the hearing and the hard of hearing. I wrote a separate post for that, just because these ways need to be highlighted until they become common sense.

Now, I would like to go back to the emotional part, since it’s apparently the one that poses challenges for being understood by our hearing peers. Hanging out with people while being the only person struggling with understanding is deeply frustrating. Just like hanging out with people that have [introduce preferred language] as their first language while you’re on a B2 level. It doesn’t mean that we don’t understand anything, it just means that understanding is a practice that requires focus and concentration. The term “hearing fatigue” is so popular among the HoH community because of this. The feeling of defeat every time you don’t understand anything despite trying so hard is not making things easier either. It’s like you’re judging yourself constantly by your ability to understand and communicate. And the level of grace and compassion you give yourself depends on many factors, just like for everyone else.

In the end, how we would react when everyone around us speaks a language we don’t understand depends a lot on our confidence, on how much we can advocate for ourselves and express our needs. 

This doesn’t mean that we cannot enjoy the company of other people, it just means that we aren’t relaxed when hanging out in bigger groups with hearing people. What I also have noticed, is that I gravitate towards people I can understand the best. Especially when meeting someone new. Also, the more I know the voice of the person and the more I manage to feel relaxed around this person, the better I can understand them. Anxiety is definitely worsening my ability to understand others. The more relaxed I am, the easier it gets. 

Another thing that makes one feel isolated is all the banter and the communication that occurs incidentally. This is especially true in settings like school or work. All the information and interaction that is happening, but to which we don’t have access. The small talk of some colleagues that one misses and thus can’t contribute and connect. The comment made in the group meeting/open office space/classroom or the joke that provokes the laugh of all the others (but you) are also good examples of sources of frustration and disconnect. Why? Because we see all these interactions occurring but we are not allowed to take part.

Incidental communication is particularly valuable for building relationships and with every interaction that we miss we feel like we missed an opportunity for connection. We see others thriving, while we’re only surviving. A lot of hearing people tell me that sometimes it’s better to not hear all the stuff people are saying. While I agree that this also has some advantages, for an extrovert like me, the disadvantages greatly outweigh the “benefits”. 

I have never experienced a working environment so far where the people are aware or willing to accommodate hard of hearing people. That’s why educating and explaining is so important. 

What I also find helpful, is having a hearing person that understands your struggle and is willing to include and accommodate you. How? By answering your questions, by knowing you so well to recognize when you didn’t understand something, by summarizing the conversation so that you can follow, by choosing the moments in such a way that you don’t feel put on the spot. These people are rare, but they exist. I have met some of them and they are my personal unicorns. Needless to say that they are superhumans.

There are many other moments when one feels distressed because of their hearing. Some of them are so important that they can be the cause of great anxiety. I find particularly challenging announcements or waiting rooms where people are called by name or a number is shouted. Announcements, like for example train announcements, sometimes contain crucial information that can break your trip or just make you think that you’ll miss your train/plane. Luckily, with all the technology there is, there are more sources one gets such information and really missing a train or plane because of this didn’t happen to me. But oh, the anxiety one experiences is so real.

Waiting rooms can be trickier. It has happened not only once that I haven’t heard my name being called by a doctor and was waiting extra time until I went to ask if they passed me. I have learned by now to point out at the reception that they need to come to the front when calling my name. Luckily, most practices are understanding and willing to accommodate. 

Another setting that unfortunately makes me stressed is interacting with young children. Children speak in very high voices and sometimes unintelligibly. Although I can connect with them by playing with them, which I love, I still miss all the things they say, rarely understanding their voices. This makes me sad. My motivation in getting a cochlear implant was to be able to understand my niece. She’s still very young and doesn’t speak much and my cochlear implant situation is still unclear and needs revision so I didn’t give up hope yet. However, I am aware that communication will be a challenge so I will need to get creative to be able to connect with her.

So there it is: a small attempt to explain the emotional impact of hearing loss so that hopefully more people understand the struggle. The fact that this struggle will never end when interacting with hearing people is what makes it particularly difficult. It’s either we give up or we become resilient to a degree that some will believe we’re delusional. Mostly I gravitate between the two. 

Of course, another option would be universal sign language. It’s not an easy language to learn and there is definitely resistance to it, for relevant and irrelevant reasons. What I find quite disheartening, is learning that deaf and hard of hearing people consider the idea of a universal sign language as an utopian thought. Because Esperanto didn’t work, this won’t work either, that’s the easiest way to put it. However, I am still an idealist, also here. I believe that as society becomes more globally interconnected, there will be a time when this will happen. Or maybe technology will step in first. I guess we’ll find out soon, as AI has great potential for easing the speech to text possibilities. I guess we’ll need to wait in order to see what the future brings.