I didn't mean to create a whole range of Angry Deaf products. It happened quite accidentally.
I'd read a story about a single-sided deaf woman, who was being bullied at work. Her audist colleague seemed intent upon making her feel inadequate, because allowances had to be made in the office so that the SSD lady could hear.
My reaction was to knock up a button in Zazzle, sarcastically responding to a comment that had been made to this lady. I linked it and forgot about it. Then slowly realized that it had become a best-seller in my stock.
There were patently a lot of us out there in need of such things.
Comments
So you've heard both! What's it like?
Good article, Jo. I can sympathize, though my own hearing loss was greatly ameliorated by medical treatment. But while it was happening I could not triangulate sound.
3/3
Yet we do have ways to deal with it. You don't experience something daily for decades without having dozens of tools for reacting to it. In general terms, I'll quietly get on with whatever I deem appropriate in each given situation. I guess everybody in my boat (and yours) does. At least 70% of those involve meeting people halfway - lip-reading, paying attention to body language, waiting to leap upon every clue which apes communication. In short, it's about making life easy for the people not having to deal with this.
The problematic nature - making a fuss etc - usually stems from me deciding not to employ the 70%. Either because I'm irritated enough to wonder why I should be the one bothering, or I simply can't be bothered. (Conversing with proper audists goes into the latter category.) Or else I genuinely am too tired to do all that's being required of me.
You (and by that I mean me, or SSD people in general) are always more amenable to going the extra 70% if they're having fun. So yes, you called it there. But even at festivals there are plenty of places where the clash of similar sounds isn't occurring, many more than you'd think actually. In a quiet corner of the Leftfield, I can almost even hear. As we go walking down the Old Railway Track, I'm probably paying attention and employing the whole 70% in order to converse. In Shangri La, no-one can converse, so nobody bothers, and I find some peace to simply be.
In reality, somewhere like Lunched Out Lizard at night is the worst case scenario for me - it's quiet enough to have the cacophony of voices chattering in a mush, but too dark for me to attempt most of my tricks to participate in conversations. And too secluded to have much to look at for distraction. Thus I'm left alone with my own mind, my own thoughts, and the growing irritation due to the fact, if we were just sitting ten or twenty feet away, the other voices would be faint enough for me to not be deaf at all.
But how can you say that, when everyone is having so much fun and they think all the world is great? And your reminder will come like a swooping condemnation and a fuss? The answer: Easily, and I should have said it or else moved away myself. :) 3/3
2/3
However, there's something very different going on here. You and I experience auditory data differently. No matter how loud or overwhelming it may become, you still have depth to that sound. You can triangulate the source of each facet of the cacophony, separating one from the other. They may wash over you like an avalanche, but you could technically inspect the torrent for each little snowflake.
I can't. Every single source of sound is in the same place. They're not so much layers as a mush. You get the Battenberg of hearing. I get the blancmange. I get loud and quiet, but not direction and certainly not distance. When, say, you and Liz are both speaking together (in your separate conversations), it's like you're standing in the same spot, simultaneously talking into my single ear.
I can tell music from voices. I know a car's engine from birdsong. I pick out the clang of a hammer from the rustling of leaves in the trees. In that way, I find the layers, as an exercise in reasoning them out, rather than naturally knowing that they aren't the same noises emitted from a single source. Because how I hear it, they actually are that.
In such over-whelming situations, my mind is working consciously. What you may hear as a fleeting sound registered somewhere in the background, I have had to concentrate on discerning it from the rest, examining it for meaning, then reacting accordingly. It's an endeavour of the conscious mind, not a sub-conscious sorting. It's exhausting over a long period of time. It's the exhaustion that gets to all single-sided hearing people in the end.
And no-one, however ordinarily compassionate, is at their most understanding of the forgetfulness of others when they're exhausted and subject to a din.
2/3
I'm not certain about the fourth form of audism, as it was a concept to which I've only just been introduced. My understanding of it is precisely your haggis example though. To my mind, it's about as horrific as it can get, because I'd feel soooo impolite correcting them, when they've tried so hard!
But Liam pointed out that such things are bad or cursory research, lumped together with a lot of pre-conceived notions, stereotypes and all the rest. In that way, it's possibly the most insidious form of audism (or any prejudice) of all, as it leaves the victim squirming even harder.
Now to start from the beginning - one thing I've learned is never to assume you know what will sell on Zazzle. The more niche the better! 'Argh, Sorry I Forgot!' would probably be a best selling badge! (And applicable in so many situations...)
Conflicting needs is absolutely the root of such clashes. I think you're spot on there. In the situation that you described, there's also another side. Which is that someone else is denied the right to be noisy in their own home, and all society blames them for even wanting it. Plus they've lost the easy conversation of someone not engrossed in heavy academia. There is always many more sides to any given story.
I get that you can be over-whelmed by stimuli. I've experienced that too in all of my other senses. There are moments when it all becomes too much for any of us, and we have to blank things out or shut them down. Or remove ourselves from the situation.
I do attempt to do this with hearing too. How many times have you heard me say that I've disappeared inside my own head? Or I've distracted myself with reading/inspecting things on the walls, people watching etc? 1/3
Angry hearing...hmm... to be fair that is probably one of the few things I'm *not* angry about. The response would probably be either "we're trying!" or "argh, sorry I forgot!". Might not sell *all* that well...
I think a lot of this comes down to conflicting needs. I'm assuming my hearing is better than yours, given previous conversations. I have always found it hard to concentrate if input is coming from multiple sources - this can include visual as well as auditory input. In my case, I think it is also sometimes due to processing all at once. As you know, while I was completing my degree I was living in an environment where those needs were not entirely respected (I am putting this as nicely as possible, with it being a public forum). The result of having to manage anyway was a mix of anger, sadness, anxiety, self-criticsm and wondering why it was so hard to speak up about it. I have never enjoyed the audio-visual dominance that a television can impose upon a room. I don't want to be drawn into it, but I am unable to ignore it in a way that others appear to. The difficulty differentiating stimuli gets far, far worse when I'm tired, or have been drinking.
It occurs to me that festivals are a prime example of this! So, clearly there's something else going on. Some of this is down to other needs being met, isn't it? I went out on Saturday and often apologised for not being able to hear, but the fact that I was enjoying myself and I liked the environment despite (or perhaps because of) the noise made up for that. Similarly, in that pub, my belonging needs (which were very strong at that point) outweighed my need to hear what was said by all those around me. There were several occasions where I just switched off, drank my drink and did the "let it all wash over you" thing. Sometimes that just feels easier, and such a relief. People seemed happy to have me there, even if my contributions were a bit sporadic (this is NOT me implying that you should do the same, btw). And actually, I think sometimes I enjoy the feeling of being "lost" in sound. So much better than being lost in thoughts. Perhaps this is what you find in the very loud environments?
I wondered about the fourth form of audism. What would that look like in practice? Is that the hearing equivalent of "this is what you gay people like, isn't it??". Or "I got some haggis, you Scots like that, don't you??". I'm trying to picture it in terms of deafness, and failing.
As for the products, the ones that you're seeing here are the knee-jerk, cathartic responses to that moment when the isolation bites hard. The nice, understanding, lovely ones (which is 99% of the time) are featured in the other article.
My friend Freya - who is brilliantly deaf aware to the point of learning sign language shortly before first meeting me, and habitually monitoring the Skype call for deaf friendliness - has pointed out to me that Angry Deaf is very one sided. It attacks without giving the right to reply. It's scathing and dripping in sarcasm over situations which might never have been viewed as such by the other party.
I've got on my list of things to write an article suggested by her: 'Are single-sided deaf people too hard on their hearing friends?' Or 'expect too much of...' etc. She never asked me to write it, nor really phrased it in such a way, but our conversations re Angry Deaf did get me thinking on it.
But all of this is outside the remit of Angry Deaf. It's more down to the likes of you and Freya to make an Angry Hearing Zazzle store - the responses to all of my badges! That would so own! :D You should do it. 3/3
Actual response to Ian James: I can confirm that you do spend an inordinate amount of time trying to make everyone happy. I must do your head in at times, either wandering off because I'm being sensible about things, or else suddenly going a little yampy.
I wonder if there's a word for the dreadful moment when you realize that a) you've forgotten that your friend is deaf; b) that (s)he's been sitting there pretending to be ok for hours; c) (s)he's just hit their limit and the irritation is erupting; and d) it's been so good until now and this is going to ruin everything. I'm usually on the other side of that, but I imagine it is quite, quite awful. You have my sympathy.
It's that pub. It's every pub. The eve of Glastonbury is a big shining example, but it could equally have been the pub I went into with my parents a week before, or those in Cornwall, or that I nipped into with Eric on New Years' Eve. I do try to avoid pubs for all the reasons that you've highlighted, unless there's a quiet beer garden outside.
By choice, I want the silence of a quiet country field or the ear-splitting noise of somewhere like Arcadia or Shangri La. Kate asked me on the latter, saying she thought it would be my worst nightmare, but it's not. No-one tries to talk to you there, nor makes decisions about what's happening next without including you in the process. Because no-one can hear to have a conversation in those circumstances. To all extents and purposes, the whole world is deaf but for the music. 2/3
You're certainly inspiring some articles here! Yesterday, I wrote one highlighting some of my nicer Angry Deaf stuff: http://wizzley.com/partially-deaf-chi... The badges at the bottom might be more like you had in mind.
Also last night, I was chatting with a friend regarding Audism and other forms of prejudice/bigotry etc., as he'd been lecturing on another form. He pointed out that there are more than the three categories that we'd highlighted. The fourth horrified me, as it hadn't actually occurred to me that it existed.
It's the state of someone thinking that they're totally deaf aware/deaf friendly, so they set about habitually creating what they believe to be a good environment for folk like me. But they've got their information wrong. Hence they'd be looking for the pat on the back for being a wonderful human being, but those subject to the bad environment are thinking them ignorant and/or Audists.
How freaking awkward would that one be? I don't think I've ever encountered it, but then, I wouldn't know, would I?
Liam did have a word for it, but I've forgotten what it is. -.- I may end up writing an article on it though, as there are some interesting discussions to be had.
Sorry, none of this responded to anything that you said in your comment. It's more a heads up on what kind of things you're prompting me to think of writing and/or actually writing.
I totally agree that creating an environment happy for all is not always possible. In fact, one can end up negating ones own needs constantly trying to create a happy balance between those of others. As someone who spends a good deal of time trying to do this, and consequently tieing themselves up in knots, I am very aware of how difficult it is.
I wasn't dismissing your products at all, and I hope it didn't come across like that...though I do hope nobody ever directs one at me!
I'm not sure if the situation in the pub we discussed is one where I was present or not? If it was then I do not believe that group would have been prejudiced against anyone who had hearing difficulties. And if we're defining audism along the same lines as sexism (power + prejudice) then no, according to that definition, people were not being audist. Inconsiderate (from one individual's perspective) does not equal prejudiced. And, in terms of that group, I think we tried to change our behaviour accordingly as we became more aware. Perhaps if that venue really is problemmatic then the key is not to return there, though?
If I've got the wrong end of the stick, and it wasn't that group, then I really don't know because I wasn't there!