Deafness

My first memory was when I was outdoors playing. At that time we were living in a mobile home in Wisconsin, I believe. I remember looking back at the house and seeing a mobile home, although I didn't think about it being unusual at the time - I was probably only three years old.

In the course of my play I remember putting my ear to the ground. When I put my right ear, I could hear strange noises, probably the same "strange noises" that anyone will hear if they cup their hand over their ear. When I put my left ear to the ground, I didn't hear anything. That was an interesting observation, but not particularly important, as the was normal for me.

The reason, I know now, is that my hearing in my right ear was normal, while my left ear was totally deaf. This was not unusual for me, after all, that was all I had ever known. What I was unaware of is how often I would find myself judged because of this hearing loss rather than anything else I might say, do, or be.

Although I remember being deaf when I was quite young, I did not have my hearing tested until I was older, perhaps in the fourth or fifth grade. Then a routine hearing screening administered to the children showed that I was totally deaf in my left ear, and I started to make regular trips to audiologist. There they learned that there was nothing that could be done, no hearing aid, no medical procedure, nothing,

I had to learn to live with it. However, as I said since I had always been deaf in that ear, there was no learning, to me that was normal. What I needed to learn (and am still learning) is how this differs from "normal."

This problem resulted in many unpleasant memories. For example, when I was in high school someone (I don't know who) discovered I couldn't hear. Therefore, they would wait until I was out on the street, and call my name. I would scan the horizon for the person, since I couldn't tell where the noise was coming from, but I think they would hide. Anyway, I couldn't locate them. My natural tendency to want to connect with people was frustrated by the fact that I physically could not. This hurt very deeply, and I still feel the hurt today.

I think it was when I was in high school. The group I was with was playing a game, a mixer. The people sat in a circle, with one person in the center blindfolded. I think the person would call out two numbers, and the persons with those numbers would have to switch chairs. If the person in the center got to one of the chairs first, then the person on the chair became "it."

I enjoyed this social event. I was fast, so when my number was called, I was able to switch without getting caught usually. However, I did get caught once, and learned the meaning of terror. I called out two numbers dutifully, but as soon as I did I realized that there was no way for me to do anything about it. That is, the only sense I have with direction associated is sight, but I was blindfolded. Two people changed chairs, but I didn't have the slightest idea where they were, so there was no way I could beat anyone to a chair.

Finally, one kind soul realized what was happening, and, being close to me, whispered which numbers to call, which I did. Then he got up and sat me down in his chair and the game went on. Although I had enjoyed playing, I had no choice but to remove my chair and watch while other's played, a situation I found myself in often.

The day came in 1970, when I was told I had to take a draft physical. I had been fortunate in that I had drawn a number in the lottery (the first one) which was so high I knew I would not be drafted, but the wheels of government move slowly, and the people in charge of deciding who has to take a physical didn't get the word.

When I've seen people today say that the United States should have a draft so that rich people's children will have to fight the wars, I laugh. The truth is that I was poor, and it appears that the word had gone out that I was to pass at any cost. Later, I had a friend who told me that he had failed his physical because of his hearing, although he didn't know he had a problem. I passed mine.

To measure the hearing many, perhaps twenty, guys were put in a room together. Each was given a set of earphones - pretty good ones, really. Then we were given a button and told to press it whenever we heard a sound. I pressed the button once to see where it was, then sat back to wait for the test to start. Unbeknown to me, the test had already started, but they started on the wrong ear. After about thirty seconds, one of the people running the test stuck his head inside, and, indicating me, made the statement, "It's getting kind of loud isn't it?" It appears that although I couldn't hear the sound in my earphones, being deaf, it was getting so loud it was throwing all the other tests off. But then, I'd told them I couldn't hear out of that ear before I started, and had a doctors certificate. They threw the certificate out without reading it, and didn't listen to me.

Their response was to put me into a room by myself. This time, the room was like a closet, with no acoustical tiles to deaden the sound, and earphones that make the cheap earphones I've seen people use in their IPODs look good. The result is that when a sound came into the earphone it could probably be heard equally well with either ear. Using this arrangement, my hearing was perfect, so I passed.

I have read where Helen Keller, who was both blind and deaf, was asked which was worse, being blind or being deaf. Her response was being deaf. The reason is that blindness cut her off from her physical world, whereas deafness cut her off from people.