By Mia Hanuska
“Blue and green, with the glitter. Oooh, a swirl? Yes, please! And the neon-green receiver too!” Since I was a kid, the thing I’ve loved the most about my hearing aid was the color. All my favorite colors, in a piece I wear almost discreetly behind my ear. My reasoning? If I have to wear it every day, it might as well be fun.
Yet, this seems to be an opinion in the minority. When many get their hearing aid, or other assistive hearing devices, they get the receiver (the part behind the ear), to match their hair color and a clear ear-mold (the part in the ear) to hide it. Almost like they’re…ashamed. Ashamed that this came upon them—either by birth, naturally, or another reason. Society has taught us to hide this—often major—part of us and tells us to keep it out of their sight. Like if they can’t see it, it doesn’t exist. If they can’t see it, they won’t have to accommodate us.
Even when deaf or hard of hearing people take steps to accommodate themselves, they are often shunned, or even made fun of, by society. There have been many “accidents” with incorrect American Sign Language (ASL) interpreters and their lack of knowledge about the language. Newscasts and sports arenas will hire ASL signers without ensuring they actually know how to sign correctly, or know the language at all. Then, when clips of the obvious incorrect signs are circulated on social media and in the news, the reactions are mainly laughing at how “funny” and “useless” they are. However, many deaf people prefer, or need, ASL to understand. Closed captioning, especially on the news, is less than perfect, and lipreading on television is near impossible. Even when ASL signers are correct, somehow their presence alone angers hearing people. Complaints about being “distracting” and “confusing” as interpreters are up on stage are too frequent. One Reddit user describes it as a “weird fad” to have them at concerts and government meetings, as if it’s become “popular” to accommodate those with hearing impairments instead of acknowledging that people actually need it (not to add interpreters are required under ADA, if requested).
These current impacts are felt due to actions in the 1880s, when sign languages were banned during the Milan Conference, and technically only unbanned internationally in 2010. Signed languages were seen as inferior and less than oral languages. Therefore, instead of ASL, deaf people were taught spoken English or lipreading as to “disguise” them into society. Luckily, ASL was still taught in America thanks to the schools such as Gallaudet University, however they were—and still are—discouraged to use it in daily life as to not “disturb” “normal people.”
Similarly, closed captions are also labeled as “distractions” to hearing people. I’ve had many complaints from teachers and family about turning on captions on videos and movies. Yet, I’ve also had peers tell me that they adore subtitles and turn them on all the time, for the same reasons I do: understanding mumbling and accidents and better retention of information. In fact, 59% of Generation Z admits to using subtitles, despite their hearing ability. Likely, as young people consume and create more content with automatic subtitles, the stigma around closed captions will fade away and they will become even more widespread and innovated for better accuracy.
However, not everyone needs to rely on ASL or captions. Hearing aids, or other assistive hearing devices, are great for those who still have little hearing in one or both ears. Unfortunately, only 16% of people between 20 and 69 who need hearing aid(s) actually wear them. This is probably due to the lack of awareness around them, as those who do sport a pair of hearing aids tend to hide them, as encouraged by companies. Even my own audiologist, who knows I love color and want to show my aid off as much as possible, boasted about the new model that’s more smaller and discreet. Major assistive hearing device manufacturers contribute to the stigma around them by making them as small, clear, and hidden as possible. This continues into their color range, which is a main reason I hesitate to upgrade to an adult hearing aid. Few companies produce these devices in colors other than brown, black, or white. Even then, the earmolds and wires are small and clear, further hiding the hearing aid. This tells people, “find a color that blends in. We don’t want to see your hearing aid.”
Ultimately, while I am lucky enough to not experience much discrimination or stereotypes pushed upon me, this is not the fact for many in the deaf and hard of hearing community. Countless are shamed, put down, and left truly disgusting comments from society while trying to normalize this part of us; a part no one can remove. The stigmatization around ASL, captions, and hearing aids is just the tip of the iceberg and there remains deeper problems that will take years, if not decades, to fix. So the next time you start complaining about someone’s accommodations, think: am I contributing to the stigmatization around this disability? Why do I expect them to change what they need—for me?