Pigeon-holing (also Turning Point)

At work a few years ago, the girl at the next desk said she knew a lady just like me, who has poor hearing in one ear (mine is in both ears). This lady speaks and lip-reads so well ‘you would never know’. She’s a very bright and able lady who does X for a hobby and Y for a career, and uses the phone.

I smiled and was polite, but felt depressed. What was I doing wrong that the other lady was doing right? Would I ever be able to socialize in such a way that people would actually not know I was deaf? Most people know it the minute I open my mouth, but normality seemed to be the ideal to strive for.

I’ve been told, “you are speaking better than some of the people in this office,” but I put that down to friendly encouragement while I was going to speech and voice therapy. Too many folks were still giving me odd looks and saying, “what?”

That was when I was trying to achieve that ideal of appearing normal. The harder I tried, the worse it got, and my only real recourse was to write things down – which lays you open to the disapproving attitude that you have failed. Perhaps you can spell and punctuate fifty times better than the person you’re passing notes to – but you have still failed.

It wasn’t till later, going over the conversation in my mind, that I wondered, “what would she think if I said one day, ‘I know someone just like you – she has good hearing.’”

Her reaction would doubtless be: “That doesn’t mean she’s anything like me.”

Well – quite.

Comments for this entry (during its previous life on Blogigo):

1. Attila the Mom wrote at May 1, 2007 at 19:15: Lovely, lovely, lovely! I have got the biggest smile on my face right now.

2. Pacian wrote at May 2, 2007 at 00:00: I hate people who decide for themselves how easy something should be for you to do.

3. Wheelie Catholic wrote at May 2, 2007 at 03:16: Glad I stopped by here for BADD – this is an insightful post. Really shows how comparing can be so – not useful. I don’t like conversations where people stop short of saying something but imply things (that fill in the blank you describe so well) about “how I’m handling my disability” . I feel like saying “I’ll hand out a survey next week and you can fill that out” – Am I a 10? a 9? oops only a 5? LOL that’s how ridiculous it gets….

4. Diddums wrote at May 3, 2007 at 00:16: Thanks to all for the comments! I was pleased to see you drop round.

I noticed some of the other BADD posts were saying people try too hard to connect and end up saying the wrong thing. I was probably seen as someone who had the potential to do better – and to be fair, I thought so too. It was only when I tried so hard that I discovered more clearly where my limitations lay, and it was a turning point (though gradual) in how I perceived my relationship with the rest of the world.