Gotta say, I’m so grateful for being late-deafened in 2019.
I realize much of the reason I am grateful is that I have access to a great number of “first world technology”. I “hear again” with a cochlear implant. I have apps that caption speakers if they are within 6-10 feet of me. My hearing aid and cochlear implant are bluetooth compatible so (for example) using the GPS in my car, Siri tells me where to go (ahem) in my own head and it doesn’t bother anyone else in the car.
I have super cool devices to clean, dry, and care for all my hearing assistive technology. I have volume controls, fire alarms with strobes, and captioning on my television. I speech read at about 45-47% accuracy (which is actually pretty high but I credit it to teaching others how to do so in workshops, etc.). I can make doctor appointments online, and my home phone (Google voice) sends me an email transcription of every message left. I text like a pro and rarely have to knuckle down and actually phone anyone. My calendar and alerts sinc with my Apple Watch so my whole wrist vibrates when I need a reminder. I can order online, bank online, and renew my service dog’s insurance online. I definitely live in the right day and time, in a first world country, where even “middle class” I enjoy a host of perks that make being late-deafened, not so very bad.
Do you know the #1 pet peeve that happens to be very low tech and low cost, is the fact that no one wants to use a microphone?
I do pretty well in groups of 10-15 or less, sitting around a table so that I can see everyone, and everyone is polite and speaks one at a time. Put me in a room with more people than that, or people sitting in rows and spread out, and I really struggle. I may get 50% of what is said. You might be thinking “what does that mean?”. Please allow me to clue you in.
-
50% doesn’t mean in a 40 minute presentation or workshop that I received and understood the first 20 minutes.
This means that I get very little take-away. If I’m hearing 50% of what is being said while it is being presented and spoken, I am actually missing much more than that because of lost comprehension. Think about it this way.
If I read aloud a paragraph to you and dropped 50% of the words randomly, would you understand ANY of the paragraph at all? Even if you are hearing 50% of the words, you’ve lost the context and have very little understanding of what I just read.
2. 50% means my frustration level is high and my fatigue has ruined me for the rest of the day.
If I could burn calories by struggling to hear, comprehend, and communicate effectively, I could eat whatever I want, whenever I want, and never work out for the rest of my life. When you tack on the fact that my primary issue is a balance disorder and not the hearing loss, when the latter contributes to fatigue this increases my chances for wobbles and for falls. I have left meetings where people refuse a microphone and seriously put myself in jeopardy the remainder of the day because my brain became mush.
3. 50% means more work for other people.
I work at a college and am a valued member of the psychology department in spite of my adjunct status. After meetings or workshops where I get my 50%, I have never EVER been turned down by colleagues after requesting a follow-up email with a copy of the PowerPoint they used, a summary of their talk with major points highlighted, and any pertinent questions asked by others (that I didn’t hear at all) and responses given. I work with good people. People who care, who are inclusive, and frankly are all about social justice issues like accessibility.
So… if people were simply using the freaking microphone:
- My comprehension goes to 80-90%
- I expend the same amount of energy a hearing-abled person expends to attend a meeting or workshop.
- No one feels compelled to send me copious notes about what they just covered.
- I am included… not just in the meeting, but because I will be hearing questions and responses from the floor. I will feel comfortable speaking myself because I know what is going on in the meeting.
- Other people with “normal” hearing, actually hear better. Speakers who use microphones are more likely to face the room/audience, speak more clearly, and not cover their mouth or faces with hands, fliers, etc. (Tidwell, 2004).
Having experienced good hearing/comprehension environments, imagine my frustration when I cannot hear and there is a microphone available that someone refuses to use. I have had workshop speakers decline microphone use, college presidents and vice-presidents, and TFO constituents. I have experienced county executives, politicians, pastors, graduate and residency doctor/teachers refuse to use the microphone. From the perspective of someone with hearing loss, this hurts y’all. It also pisses me off. (Jus’ sayin’)
“My voice carries, so I’m not going to use this” (points to microphone).
“I walk around a lot so I’m not going to use the microphone. I have a loud voice” (Note: most microphones are mobile).
“Can everyone hear me? I have a big voice. I’m not going to use the microphone… because everyone can hear me, right?” (while ignoring my wildly gestured hand-waving negating their statement).
Folks, volume ≠ communicating well. Raising your voice (your volume level) distorts your voice (Ardon, 2019). If you use a microphone and use a normal tone and volume because the microphone is doing the work, your words are understood by more people. The quality of your speech improves when using a microphone. You aren’t having to remind yourself to “speak up” so the people in the back of the room can hear you.
This post isn’t about any frustration about not hearing well when a microphone is NOT present. (Although as I continue positive advocacy, I work to have more and more microphones available in meeting and workshop venues). I simply want to remind folks to use the microphone when it IS THERE and IS AVAILABLE. Not using it tells me that I don’t matter… that anyone with any level of hearing loss doesn’t matter. (NIDCD reports that 15% of all Americans over the age of 18 have hearing loss. That number goes way up if your audience is 40 years old and up) (NIDCD, 2019). Even in small meetings, the number of people who benefit from a microphone in use goes way up. Present are people with hearing loss, auditory processing issues, ADHD, and folks who do not speak English as their first language. Please… use the microphone.
For all of us who want to be included, thank you in advance.
L. Denise Portis, Ph.D.
©2019 Personal Hearing Loss Journal
Ardon, F. (2019). Your voice carries… use the mic anyway. Neuroamazing. Retrieved
December 15, 2019, from https://neuroamazing.wordpress.com/2019/10/09/your-
voice-carries-use-the-mic-anyway/
National Institute on Deafness and other Communication Disorders (2019). Quick statistics
about hearing. Retrieved December 15, 2019, from
https://www.nidcd.nih.gov/health/statistics/quick-statistics-hearing
Tidwell, R. (2004). The ‘invisible’ faculty member: The university professor with a hearing
disability. Higher Education 47(2) 197-210. doi: 10.1023/B:HIGH.0000016421.25286.e8
This is perfect, Hearing Elmo! I have a confession, which I hope will lead to more consistent action on my part: sometimes, when I am in a room and I hear the speaker ask: can you all hear me? do I need to use the microphone? and I do understand them, and people say no need, we hear you, I don’t always say “use the freaking microphone!” and I want to kick myself because I really want to insist upon it every time, to send a message, to normalize the need for the use. So thank you for the kick in the pants!
Amen to this! I struggle every day at work during meetings because of this!
How very true. I go to company meetings and I always get the soft spoken leadership