Disability?
Let's get something straight right away. When I was around two years old or so, it was discovered I had a hearing impairment. I was fitted with hearing aids and have dealt with the implications of this fact my entire life. For all we know, my hearing impairment is simply a result of a premature birth and the all-out efforts to keep me alive. The way I see it, when one looks at pictures of myself looking nothing short of a crazy science experiment at birth, I consider myself quite blessed to have come out of it all with nothing a few scars and a hearing impairment to show for it.
Now, in many ways growing up with a hearing impairment was not easy. First of all, I was and still am extremely stubborn when it comes to wearing my hearing aids. It's not like those things fit in your ear like a glove on your hand. They are uncomfortable and annoying. They rub against the inside of you ear at times and makes them itchy and sore. There were plenty of times growing up that I refused to wear them; they were washed a couple times, lost a million times, taken off and hidden in my backpack at school, to be put back on when I got home so that mom could see that I was wearing them. The reality is that for me, hearing aids have to be some of the most imperfect devices known to man. The darn things amplify all sounds, irrespective of directional microphones. So they have done me no good spending a large amount of time working with loud machines and in loud mechanical rooms. Put them on in a car and they only AMPLIFY the road noise that I can't hear human conversation over in the first place. My audiologist has admitted to me that my hearing loss is unique in that the benefits from hearing aids are minimal. I'm caught in a weird limbo where there are times I just can't hear, but there is nothing out there that is going to be of substantial benefit to me.
Having a hearing impairment requires getting check-ups. When I was younger I would sit in a little sound booth and listen to tones. When I could hear those tones I would look to the left or right at stuffed bears to indicate that my ears and brain processed those sounds. As I got older these tests consisted of raising my right or left hand, and repeating back words, sentences, and phrases. My audiologist would mark his little chart and there would be some bell curve that would show me my range of hearing. Then the audiologist would go have a look-see with his fancy little camera and I could see in living color the inside of my ear. Some days there would be more wax than others. To this day I don't even understand any of it. I admit I have never taken the time to learn.
What I do know about my hearing impairment is this: I can't hear at all the last eight or so high notes on a piano. Hearing a bird sing is a rarity unless its a cooing pigeon. I have never had that terrible feeling run through me at the scratching of a chalkboard. I can chew ice or a Popsicle without being completely petrified like my wife It was only recently that I really understood that my car keys jingle. I got in trouble one time in an English class in middle school because the book I was reading had a torn plastic cover and my teacher thought I was rudely interrupting him with a candy wrapper. I became adept at reading lips, a skill which sadly is not used as much as when I was younger, and there were plenty of times when the fire alarm would go off at school and I would be the last one in the classroom to leave because quite frankly I didn't hear the darn thing. Even now if the toast gets burnt at breakfast and my three year old freaks out at the smoke alarm, it takes a minute for me to understand what in the world is going on. Don't try to whisper in my ear. I'm not going to hear you. Closed-captioning is a saving grace when it comes to television, and being able to read music lyrics on CD inserts and the internet allows me to understand words on the radio. Unless I already know the song, you won't see me singing along to the radio in the car unless I feel like singing in my own garbled language.
To be honest, when I was younger I really didn't pay attention to my hearing impairment that much. I would have the school audiologist come in and check on my every couple weeks and make sure all was well. Thing was, all WAS well. I cruised along without any problems, often working ahead of other students. I lost myself in my writing and enjoyed going to school. My social life was awesome, had great friends. I didn't notice and neither did anyone else. The worse that could happen was the random kid during show and tell that would sit behind me and flick my hearing aids off my ears. I had plenty of friends that put a stop to that, not to mention the fact that my brother and sister were so close in age to me anyways that they weren't going to allow me to be messed with if it really came down to it.
Middle school got a bit interesting. To make things a bit easier on me, my teachers were hooked up to what's called an FM system. I had a little blue box hooked to my hip and attached to my hearing aids. My teachers had another blue box with a microphone they would wear on their shirts. Doing this, I could do group work effectively, and the teacher could move around without feeling like they were stuck at the front of the classroom. It was a good compromise, and no one judged me or thought differently of me for it. In fact, I was able to use this to teach my fellow students and teachers. I had a great English teacher, Mr. Henderson, and a school audiologist who really gave me wings to share my experience with others. I was on the local news, and traveled the classrooms regularly helping others understand the implications of a hearing impairment. All the science and charts in the world can give no one who has their full hearing capability an understanding of the subjective experience of a hearing impairment. The culmination of all this teaching came when Mr. Henderson and I were asked to speak at Grand Canyon University to a group of students. As an eighth grader I though this experience was great. As a reward for my willingness to share, I literally got to play in a cadaver lab for an hour and a half afterwards.
The experience was the same in high school. I admit I was privy to some conversations my teachers and fellow students probably didn't want me to hear because they forgot to turn their units off. Over time when the novelty of hearing a teacher singing in the bathroom or a fellow classmate getting reamed in the hallway wore off, I would just flip the switch until class resumed. I will never forget the time when my English teacher Ms. Evans kept forgetting to flip her switch so I could hear her so I had to raise my hand in the middle of a lecture and remind her. She then said something to the effect that I really needed to turn her on before she could get going. My classmates busted up laughing and she blushed something fierce. Yep, I made a teacher blush. ;) Oh the teenage mind sometimes.
I did have an incident where an employer tried to take money out of my paycheck because of a mistake I had made running a cash register. My dad went to confront my manager and the manager stated that he had the right to take my money because I made the mistake, and that he had done me favors because of my hearing impairment by allowing me to work the drive-thru window instead of the front during the busy lunch hour. He stated that I should be grateful that he did that for me. That didn't go over well with dad, and that job was done. It was also the beginnings of a stark reality.
It was after high school and sometimes during my missionary service that I really started to realize that some people looked at me differently because of my hearing impairment. There were times when I was definitely not taken seriously. This became really apparent when I entered the working world. I can't tell you how many jobs I know I didn't get because I walked into an interview wearing hearing aids. Somewhere along the way, someone decided that hearing aids were equivalent with low IQ. Sometimes I would get frustrated because I was stuck working a maintenance job while my siblings were working in banks and financial aid offices. I quit wearing my hearing aids for good, and really started to completely disconnect from my hearing impaired identity. Dating was a joke for this reason too. Even good friends of the opposite sex worried somewhat about what it would be like to date someone who wore hearing aids. For the first time in my life, it was pointed out to me that my voice was different as a result of a lisp, and it was made clear to me by some people that I wasn't "dateable" because of it, despite all of my "wonderful" qualities. Blech. I turned to the internet for dating because I felt like I could start with a clean slate and there wouldn't be any preconceived notions around my voice or the fact that I wore hearing aids. It worked. I went on some great dates, had great times, but most importantly, met the most amazing woman in the world who is now my wife and the mother of my three daughters!
Why am I sharing all this? Why does it matter? Now I am a graduate student in a mental health counseling program. I am in training to help others recognize the positive sides of themselves and to help them through their struggles with addiction and mental health issues. It has recently been pointed out to me on multiple occasions that I am a strong person and that I am different than other people in my situation and my program because I have been able to rise above my disability, and that I am where I am in spite of my hearing impairment.
I just want to make one thing clear. I am not where I am in SPITE of anything. I am not looking to rise above my hearing impairment. It's not necessary because my hearing impairment is part of who I am. I just accept it. I don't see a need to get above it. To do so would suggest that I SHOULD be limited in some way. Secondly, I do not have a disability. This is not to put down anyone who feels that they do and who accept that they do. It's just simply not how I choose to define my situation with my hearing. I am not limited. There is nothing I haven't been able to do. I am not missing anything. To me, if I had a disability it would assume that I had such an ability in the first place. I have NEVER been able to hear the last eight notes on a piano. That's all. I know no different. It hasn't limited me in any way. I am going to have to ask people to repeat themselves, no matter how annoyed they might get, and yes, I can't stand working in "small group" in a big room. But I am okay with that. I am where I am based on my own merits. When I applied for graduate school I didn't even mention my hearing impairment in my essays. It's not because I am ashamed of who I am or because I am trying to hide anything. It's simply that I have learned enough about how this world works and how I am treated that I am not going to risk accomplishing something because I am recognized as being a part of a special group federally recognized handicap. It's just not how I am built. Have I had some help along the way? Absolutely. But I will continue to insist that I am where I am because of WHO I am and because of my own intellect, abilities, desires, and drive. My strength is not derived from the fact that I have a hearing impairment. It is derived from the fact that I have absolute clarity on who I am, where I came from, and where I am going. My strength is derived from the fact that I have a purpose for living, and that my desire to heal individuals and families rises above my own perceived limitations. Robin Roberts recently shared the words of her mother. She said, "Make your mess your message." I have no problem with that. I'm just saying that my "mess" is a lot more than the fact that my physical hearing and my subjective world of hearing is different than other peoples. I have bigger messes with bigger messages I want to be worrying about. So, all I asked is to be recognized on my merits.
I am where I am and who I am because I am Joshua D. Cooke, not because I am Joshua D. Cooke with the hearing impairment.
Now, in many ways growing up with a hearing impairment was not easy. First of all, I was and still am extremely stubborn when it comes to wearing my hearing aids. It's not like those things fit in your ear like a glove on your hand. They are uncomfortable and annoying. They rub against the inside of you ear at times and makes them itchy and sore. There were plenty of times growing up that I refused to wear them; they were washed a couple times, lost a million times, taken off and hidden in my backpack at school, to be put back on when I got home so that mom could see that I was wearing them. The reality is that for me, hearing aids have to be some of the most imperfect devices known to man. The darn things amplify all sounds, irrespective of directional microphones. So they have done me no good spending a large amount of time working with loud machines and in loud mechanical rooms. Put them on in a car and they only AMPLIFY the road noise that I can't hear human conversation over in the first place. My audiologist has admitted to me that my hearing loss is unique in that the benefits from hearing aids are minimal. I'm caught in a weird limbo where there are times I just can't hear, but there is nothing out there that is going to be of substantial benefit to me.
Having a hearing impairment requires getting check-ups. When I was younger I would sit in a little sound booth and listen to tones. When I could hear those tones I would look to the left or right at stuffed bears to indicate that my ears and brain processed those sounds. As I got older these tests consisted of raising my right or left hand, and repeating back words, sentences, and phrases. My audiologist would mark his little chart and there would be some bell curve that would show me my range of hearing. Then the audiologist would go have a look-see with his fancy little camera and I could see in living color the inside of my ear. Some days there would be more wax than others. To this day I don't even understand any of it. I admit I have never taken the time to learn.
What I do know about my hearing impairment is this: I can't hear at all the last eight or so high notes on a piano. Hearing a bird sing is a rarity unless its a cooing pigeon. I have never had that terrible feeling run through me at the scratching of a chalkboard. I can chew ice or a Popsicle without being completely petrified like my wife It was only recently that I really understood that my car keys jingle. I got in trouble one time in an English class in middle school because the book I was reading had a torn plastic cover and my teacher thought I was rudely interrupting him with a candy wrapper. I became adept at reading lips, a skill which sadly is not used as much as when I was younger, and there were plenty of times when the fire alarm would go off at school and I would be the last one in the classroom to leave because quite frankly I didn't hear the darn thing. Even now if the toast gets burnt at breakfast and my three year old freaks out at the smoke alarm, it takes a minute for me to understand what in the world is going on. Don't try to whisper in my ear. I'm not going to hear you. Closed-captioning is a saving grace when it comes to television, and being able to read music lyrics on CD inserts and the internet allows me to understand words on the radio. Unless I already know the song, you won't see me singing along to the radio in the car unless I feel like singing in my own garbled language.
To be honest, when I was younger I really didn't pay attention to my hearing impairment that much. I would have the school audiologist come in and check on my every couple weeks and make sure all was well. Thing was, all WAS well. I cruised along without any problems, often working ahead of other students. I lost myself in my writing and enjoyed going to school. My social life was awesome, had great friends. I didn't notice and neither did anyone else. The worse that could happen was the random kid during show and tell that would sit behind me and flick my hearing aids off my ears. I had plenty of friends that put a stop to that, not to mention the fact that my brother and sister were so close in age to me anyways that they weren't going to allow me to be messed with if it really came down to it.
Middle school got a bit interesting. To make things a bit easier on me, my teachers were hooked up to what's called an FM system. I had a little blue box hooked to my hip and attached to my hearing aids. My teachers had another blue box with a microphone they would wear on their shirts. Doing this, I could do group work effectively, and the teacher could move around without feeling like they were stuck at the front of the classroom. It was a good compromise, and no one judged me or thought differently of me for it. In fact, I was able to use this to teach my fellow students and teachers. I had a great English teacher, Mr. Henderson, and a school audiologist who really gave me wings to share my experience with others. I was on the local news, and traveled the classrooms regularly helping others understand the implications of a hearing impairment. All the science and charts in the world can give no one who has their full hearing capability an understanding of the subjective experience of a hearing impairment. The culmination of all this teaching came when Mr. Henderson and I were asked to speak at Grand Canyon University to a group of students. As an eighth grader I though this experience was great. As a reward for my willingness to share, I literally got to play in a cadaver lab for an hour and a half afterwards.
The experience was the same in high school. I admit I was privy to some conversations my teachers and fellow students probably didn't want me to hear because they forgot to turn their units off. Over time when the novelty of hearing a teacher singing in the bathroom or a fellow classmate getting reamed in the hallway wore off, I would just flip the switch until class resumed. I will never forget the time when my English teacher Ms. Evans kept forgetting to flip her switch so I could hear her so I had to raise my hand in the middle of a lecture and remind her. She then said something to the effect that I really needed to turn her on before she could get going. My classmates busted up laughing and she blushed something fierce. Yep, I made a teacher blush. ;) Oh the teenage mind sometimes.
I did have an incident where an employer tried to take money out of my paycheck because of a mistake I had made running a cash register. My dad went to confront my manager and the manager stated that he had the right to take my money because I made the mistake, and that he had done me favors because of my hearing impairment by allowing me to work the drive-thru window instead of the front during the busy lunch hour. He stated that I should be grateful that he did that for me. That didn't go over well with dad, and that job was done. It was also the beginnings of a stark reality.
It was after high school and sometimes during my missionary service that I really started to realize that some people looked at me differently because of my hearing impairment. There were times when I was definitely not taken seriously. This became really apparent when I entered the working world. I can't tell you how many jobs I know I didn't get because I walked into an interview wearing hearing aids. Somewhere along the way, someone decided that hearing aids were equivalent with low IQ. Sometimes I would get frustrated because I was stuck working a maintenance job while my siblings were working in banks and financial aid offices. I quit wearing my hearing aids for good, and really started to completely disconnect from my hearing impaired identity. Dating was a joke for this reason too. Even good friends of the opposite sex worried somewhat about what it would be like to date someone who wore hearing aids. For the first time in my life, it was pointed out to me that my voice was different as a result of a lisp, and it was made clear to me by some people that I wasn't "dateable" because of it, despite all of my "wonderful" qualities. Blech. I turned to the internet for dating because I felt like I could start with a clean slate and there wouldn't be any preconceived notions around my voice or the fact that I wore hearing aids. It worked. I went on some great dates, had great times, but most importantly, met the most amazing woman in the world who is now my wife and the mother of my three daughters!
Why am I sharing all this? Why does it matter? Now I am a graduate student in a mental health counseling program. I am in training to help others recognize the positive sides of themselves and to help them through their struggles with addiction and mental health issues. It has recently been pointed out to me on multiple occasions that I am a strong person and that I am different than other people in my situation and my program because I have been able to rise above my disability, and that I am where I am in spite of my hearing impairment.
I just want to make one thing clear. I am not where I am in SPITE of anything. I am not looking to rise above my hearing impairment. It's not necessary because my hearing impairment is part of who I am. I just accept it. I don't see a need to get above it. To do so would suggest that I SHOULD be limited in some way. Secondly, I do not have a disability. This is not to put down anyone who feels that they do and who accept that they do. It's just simply not how I choose to define my situation with my hearing. I am not limited. There is nothing I haven't been able to do. I am not missing anything. To me, if I had a disability it would assume that I had such an ability in the first place. I have NEVER been able to hear the last eight notes on a piano. That's all. I know no different. It hasn't limited me in any way. I am going to have to ask people to repeat themselves, no matter how annoyed they might get, and yes, I can't stand working in "small group" in a big room. But I am okay with that. I am where I am based on my own merits. When I applied for graduate school I didn't even mention my hearing impairment in my essays. It's not because I am ashamed of who I am or because I am trying to hide anything. It's simply that I have learned enough about how this world works and how I am treated that I am not going to risk accomplishing something because I am recognized as being a part of a special group federally recognized handicap. It's just not how I am built. Have I had some help along the way? Absolutely. But I will continue to insist that I am where I am because of WHO I am and because of my own intellect, abilities, desires, and drive. My strength is not derived from the fact that I have a hearing impairment. It is derived from the fact that I have absolute clarity on who I am, where I came from, and where I am going. My strength is derived from the fact that I have a purpose for living, and that my desire to heal individuals and families rises above my own perceived limitations. Robin Roberts recently shared the words of her mother. She said, "Make your mess your message." I have no problem with that. I'm just saying that my "mess" is a lot more than the fact that my physical hearing and my subjective world of hearing is different than other peoples. I have bigger messes with bigger messages I want to be worrying about. So, all I asked is to be recognized on my merits.
I am where I am and who I am because I am Joshua D. Cooke, not because I am Joshua D. Cooke with the hearing impairment.
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteReally like this Josh, thinking back on all the crazy times in high school, it is just kinda weird to think of you as having a "disability." Anyone who treated you differently obviously hadn't taken the time to get to know you.
ReplyDeleteIt was interesting that you didn't realize keys jingle until recently. :) I imagine it won't be long before I lose my high range hearing, what with the kids these days and their rock AND/OR roll.