Today was what folks in my office call Crazy Friday. It was just insanely busy. Being deaf, I never can be 100% sure if my interpretation of verbal and or written instructions are accurate. Did I understand what my supervisor said or meant, or did I interpret what I THOUGHT she said or meant?
98% of my job involves analytical thinking and writing. Did I understand the literal meaning of her instructions, verbally and written, or did she mean something else entirely? She is a new supervisor, so we are going through some growing pains. It is a lot like getting used to a new teacher, and learning her preferences for how she wants things done.
When I was in school, strengthening vocabulary, language skills were done on a daily basis. I even took first year Latin in order to understand the origins of the English word. Math was also challenging for me, as it is a whole new language, particularly Algebra. I had trouble understanding the concept of what x and y represented and what one did with an algebraic equation. I did better in science than I did in math.
College was a whole new challenge for me. It was a real "baptism by fire," time for me. I went to a university with hearing peers. Being formally educated doesn't necessarily mean brilliance or even possessing common sense.
In my freshman year, I took an undergraduate course called Environmental Biology. At mid-term, my grade in that class was a D. I went to the professor for help, a tenured PhD in Biology.
He said, "I noticed you don't take notes." I said, "that's correct, I don't take notes. The first day of class I introduced myself to you, explained I was deaf, read lips, spoke well, and explained that I would be using volunteers to take notes." I can't lipread you and take notes at the same time."
The professor replied, "Well, can't you use a tape recorder to record the lecture"? I said that's an impossible task for me." He said, "Well, I don't know how you can pass my class." I thanked him and sought help from the University's Special Education Department, who provided me with a graduate student who tutored me through the course. I raised that grade from a D to C and passed the class that semester.
I owe a debt that can never be repaid to those students who volunteered to take notes for me. After class, I would go back to the dormitory and write down what the professor said from memory. Then I would combine the two different sets of notes from two students in each class with my own notes. I was blessed. In my entire academic career, only two students absolutely refused to take notes for me.
I didn't have the words to tell my biology professor at that university that my deafness was so profound. Profoundly deaf means I have no hearing in the speech range of an audiogram, therefore, I technically could not understand speech. I relied on my hearing aids for sound and lipreading.
Here you had a tenured PhD, whose query about a tape recorder as an aid for a deaf student, told me in plain language that the man didn't have common sense worth a hill of beans. Fortunately for me, most of the professors at this university were eager to help me succeed.
Recently, I flashed on a memory of a job interview that I have never forgotten. The Americans With Disabilities Act had not been drafted nor was it law at the time. I interviewed for a entry level job for a position with an organization that shall remain nameless. The man who interviewed me clearly did not want to be there. His whole body screamed to me in body language, "I'm here because my boss told me I had to be here." He sat across from me. I even remember the suit.. He had on a conservative suit with a bow tie. He had both his hands folded on the table, both feet together and on the floor. He reminded me of a student on his first day at school.
I don't remember the questions he asked during the interview. I only remember I answered appropriately, and he seemed satisfied with the answers. I don't remember him taking notes at all. I recited all my selling points of why the organization should hire me, a recent college graduate of an accredited hearing university, with a bachelor's and master's degree in hand.
His final statement stunned me. "That's fine, Ms. Jane Doe, but what is it that you CAN'T do"?
I barely held myself together, I was so shocked. I replied, "I cannot use a telephone because I am deaf." His reply: "Oh, I see."
I don't even know what I would say to him if we ran into each other again one day. I am not angry. I am not hurt. I just have never forgotten the incident, it was such a powerful, stunning experience.
Deafness is normal for me. I have lived with it nearly all my life. Up until now, I've lived with the deafness just fine. That hasn't necessarily been the case for my family. Recently, an aunt shared with me a memory that makes her tear up to this day, it was a painful memory for her.
She recalled a 4th of July parade which she and my Uncle took me to see. I wasn't wearing hearing aids then. I may not have been diagnosed as being deaf at that period in time. I had to have been a toddler - barely two, as I was fitted with one hearing aid at age 2 1/2. My aunt said that when the percussion of the band instruments got really loud, I covered my face with my hands.
I would like to go back in time and experience that moment again in order to understand my reaction.
Did I cover my face because the band instruments didn't sound the way I remembered it, or did I cover my face in fear? We will never know, as I didn't have the language to tell my aunt and uncle what was the matter.
Thank goodness children are resilient. I don't seem to bear any psychic scars from that Fourth of July parade, so long ago. I thought it was precious that my aunt even remembered it. I thanked her for sharing that with me.
I wonder what sound flavorings band instruments will have for me post-implant? For some idiot reason, the mental picture of a bowl of gooey, sweet caramel keeps entering my mind when I think about "hearing" band instruments.
Caramel anything is a favorite of mine. I always did have a sweet tooth. Still do.
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