A LITTLE DEAF.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXVII, Issue 20650, 23 August 1930, Page 1 (Supplement)

A LITTLE DEAF.

ON BEING HARD-OF-HEARING.

BY RONALD BUCHANAN

It is the " little" that counts for my purpose. This, of course, is not to suggest that an almost complete deprivation of tho faculty of hearing is less to be deplored than a mere measure of disability, or that the really deaf person has, on the whole, a better timo of it than tho one who is commonly described as " hard-of-hearing." But there aro factors in the case of tho latter that are happily absent from the experience of those more definitely afflicted. Tho deaf man has of necessity long ago adjusted himself to his conditions. He makes no secret of his disability. Ho knows that if he is to enjoy life at all it can only be by a complete and candid admission that he is not as other men are, and a cheerful recognition of the fact that he must endeavour to make up his insufficiency by a special adaptatiori to his circumstances. So he adjusts his acousticon, or cups his hand about his ear, and brings himself into convenient proximity to the person to whom he is speaking, smiling happily the while, and prepared to make the best of a situation he is no longer able to conceal. His very extremity demands that ho shall go to the utmost lengths of remedy, cheerfully and unashamed, and in doing so he finds his difficulty is, within reasonable limits, satisfactorily overcome. Awkward his position must always be, but, with the special provision he is prepared to make, he may bo assured that he will hear all that is intended for him, and perhaps a little more, and with that he has learned to be content With the " hard-of-hearing" the case is different. It is true that he hears in a general way much that never reaches tho ears of the deaf. For that he is duly thankful, but it is nevertheless the beginning of his embarrassment. For the measure of his aural faculty is sufficient, jin the main, to appear to entitle him to a place among his fellows as on equal terms. ■ \ General Embarrassment. He soon discovers how far from equal they are. He enters a room where there is " company," or takes his place at table with other guests, and so long as he is able to confine his conversation to his immediate neighbour he is happy enough. But he is soon drawn into the general discussion. He is appealed to for his opinion, and lias to confess somewhat shamefacedly that he has not yet gathered what the conversation is all about. Some story is told, some witticism propounded, and the company—all but himself—laughs appropriately. He must either simulate the amusement be is far from feeling, or preserve an expressionJess air that declares to all that he has missed the point, and so embarrasses himself and the others alike.

He may indeed venture on a pleasant inquiry as to what is the cause .of the merriment, but that would disclose the very fact he is most anxious to hide, and moreovei", he is probably aware that not every joke can bo expected to survive the ordeal of repetition by special request. There may be much he would like to say and much he would be glad to hear, but ho knows that if he offers a remark or asks a question ho will, as likely as not, fail to hear tho response, or hear it only to learn that the subject he has broached is the one tho party ha 3 just finished discussing. Why will people not speakdistinctly? Why will they {persist in muttering away as if it didn't matter whether they were heard or not ? Why . . . ? Of course, he knows the fault is not in the speakers, but the knowledge that the defect is all his own does not make the situation any more tolerable to him. And so he retires within himself, and hopes to goodness they will leave him alone and carry on their senseless chat among themselves. He is very sensitive, and it is all very painful. Unpleasantly Conspicuous. When he goes "to church or attends a lecture the position, though different, is equally unsatisfactory. He may usually count on finding a row or two of seats in the front unoccupied, but he is not prepared to run the risk of sitting there all alone and so advertising his disability, and when he has settled himself in the foremost position in which he may hope to avoid appearing conspicuous ho finds that ho is already out of effective range. Ho must sit still and seo it through, but lie hears just enough to enable him to realise how much he is missing, and he comes away feeling not only unsatisfied, but irritated and upset. Another source of annoyance lies in the fact that while his familiars (to whom his humiliating secret is known) will usually fail to accommodate their conversation to his requirements as ho thinks they should, they will, on the other hand, ofton take quite an exaggerated view of his failing, and express surprise when he hears the telephone ring or a motor tyre burst at his gate. " Did you hear that ?" they will ask in astonishment, with which ho imagines he detects just a traco of resentment. He is introduced by a well-intentioned friend to some acquaintance, and, following the announcement of the names, he hears quite distinctly, with that strange perversity that seems to characterise the hearing of the aurally defective, the whispered addendum "A bit deaf!" Strange Sensitiveness. Yes, it is all very humiliating. Being neither one thing nor tho other ho lacks the advantage of any definite classification, and his difficulty is accentuated and perpetuated because ho refuses to _ classify himself. There is a strango sensitiveness in deaf people that is not shared by those afllicted in other ways—the short-sighted, for instance. The reason is, no doubt, that, while defective visfon affects oneself alone, defective hearing is an interference with the first essential of human intercourse, and so tends to "ft source of invonvenicncc and irritation to other people. Thoro is growing up in connection with some of our churches and houses of entertainment tho practice of providing mechanical aids to hearing for the use of those who may need them. So far as tho admittedly deaf are concerned this is all to tho good, and must make possible many a happy hour that would otherwise bo missed. Somo day we may have these things made as inconspicuous—not to say as becoming—as pince-nez or goldrimmed spectacles. Fashion may then lend a hand, and tho " hard-of-hearing," along with tho crowd", may come into his own. For the present ho is apt to regard any such appliance as a badge of his infirmity—the outward arid visible sign of a defect which he is loath to admit to himself, and which he still hopes, feebly, perhaps, but persistently, to conceal from his fellow men.