Jane Schlau
Copyright 2001
Many of us who are deafened and hard of hearing dread this time of year. We go with our hearing families to dinners, parties, family gatherings and are simply lost. We don't understand what's said to us; we don't get the jokes; we can't follow the gossip. In a gathering of our own families, be it just our immediate families or an army of our extended family, we feel alone.
This can be a daunting, even overwhelming feeling. We come to feel uncomfortable anxiety over these once-fun celebrations. These events that we used to look forward to become nothing more than a chore that we feel obligated to participate in. Problem is, we can't participate. Or can we?
Sometimes, I feel that my deafness is like a see-through cocoon. I can see everything out there; "they" can see in here. I can even talk to them out there, they just can't reach me. At least, they don't know how.
Other times, I describe my deafness as an all encompassing blackness - I can see the black, feel the black, the nothingness. No matter what I do, I can't "hear" words. And surprisingly to me, I am more hurt that I can't hear the music. I was never a music expert, but knowing there's music out there, feeling the beat, I almost descend into that blackness, the emptiness. I am, however, not willing to stay there.
Recently, at a Thanksgiving dinner with my family, which consists of all of 6 people - my mother, a cousin, my daughter, my son with his girlfriend, and my hubby, I had a ball! I understood nothing. I cooked my heart out, enjoyed serving, watching people eat, and just felt good about the holiday. I was different; deaf is different. I could feel the discomfort of my mother and cousin at my not being able to hear them. I just have learned the discomfort is their problem.
When I wanted to know what was being said badly enough, I whipped out the old paper and pen. It works well! I have a lovely cloth-covered pad that is festive and makes writing pleasant. I don't need all the words written down, just enough to get the point. And when I have had enough of this, and feel tired from all the speech reading as well, I just sit and watch and enjoy the feeling. I know some think, "That's not me - I was always involved!! I can't just sit back and watch!!" I learned I can. I learned that I am participating by watching and taking it all in. I can't explain how, but these times of watching are not so bad.
With my side of the family, things are pretty serious. I can say that my mom is not a very fun person - she's more serious than I am. But my husband's family, well, I don't know how fun they are, but I had a ball in this group of 25 people the day after Thanksgiving!! Now I know we all say we can't do groups. I can't handle groups either. I even brought reading with me assuming I would need something to do. Yet these people cracked me up at how they try to communicate with me. And I didn't need my book!!
To be honest, I never really loved this side of my family. When I was hearing, I did my best to not get involved - to not participate. And they were just as happy letting me alone. Now, however, few of them will accept me trying to be alone. Some work so hard to include me that I have a remarkable new respect for these people.
Only a couple of my brother & sister-in-laws just stare at me. Again, this is their problem. My nieces though, are terrific - they all try to talk to me! One tries to fingerspell or add an odd sign here or there. They all talk to me one at a time - and I never said a word to them to do that!! We laugh at my misunderstandings - because I readily share them!! I repeat what I think I hear and while I always think I'll remember these misunderstandings, I never do. I just remember the laughs.
One sister-in-law had the whole family hysterical. She kept trying to act out what people were saying. Now what was being said was lost in her translation - but the emotions were expressed so well that even as I write about it I laugh!! One sister-in-law was talking about a Neil Diamond concert she went to with her daughter. The acting-out sister-in-law made faces of pure nausea at the idea of hearing Neil Diamond! Guess you had to be there, but it was hysterical.
And that's the point of this tome. In my glass cocoon, in my blackness, I have to fight to find the humor. No, deaf is not funny. But laughing at the situations being deaf brings sure is more pleasant than bemoaning my fate. Laughing at a younger sister-in-law's acting - or non-acting - skills is fun; crying because I NEED that to get the message has no useful point.
I know I'm deaf, yet life goes on. Family members can stare at me, they can pity me; or I can show them, yeah, I'm deaf, but I'm gonna find out what's going on and you're gonna help me!! Actually, my family helps me more than I even ask! But if they don't want to help, if someone prefers to avoid me or pity me, then it's his/her problem, not mine!
That's the biggest adjustment - to believe, in our heart of hearts, that we are not victims. We have choices. We can make holiday times more pleasant for us by going into these situations with our eyes open. No, there is no way we will hear enough to participate the way we once did. But we can teach people to write to us; we can look at expressions and get as much feeling as we can; we can unabashedly ask for repeats - with paper and pen at the ready; we can show our families that, yeah, we can't hear, but we are ok. We are still full-fledged members of our families. We want to know the jokes, we want to know the gossip. We can teach you how to get the info to us. We're worth it.
Guess there will be those that won't help; that will sit and stare or pity us. I am training myself to remember - this is THEIR problem, not mine. I think their problem is bigger than our ears. Their lack of communication with us is truly their loss.
And if there are times when we feel that we've had enough; that we can't ask for one more repeat; that we don't want to read anyone's words, or we just don't want to stop yet another conversation so we can be included, that's our choice too. It's ok. We work hard and deserve the break from communication if we need it. We're worth that too.
Wishing you a happy, healthy and peaceful holiday.
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