What If I’m the One Who Needs to Listen Differently?
Over the past few weeks, we have been following one of our members’ experiences with hearing loss and his hope of finding the right hearing aid. His story has taken us beyond the device itself — into the everyday reality of communication, connection and participation.
Now, let’s look at that story from the other side of the conversation.
Imagine having a conversation with someone you care about.
You say something.
There is no response.
You repeat yourself.
Still nothing.
Perhaps you become frustrated.
Perhaps you think they are ignoring you.
Perhaps you think they are not interested in what you are saying.
But what if they simply didn’t hear you?
For a DeafBlind person, this can happen more often than we realise.
One of our members described it very simply:
“Communication becomes very difficult.”
From the outside, that difficulty can be easy to misunderstand.
A family member may think, Why isn’t he answering me?
A friend may think, Doesn’t she want to talk?
A colleague may think, I’ve already said it twice.
But there may be another explanation:
They didn’t hear you clearly.
And if they cannot see you either, they may not even know that you are speaking to them.
The misunderstanding behind the misunderstanding
Our member told us that people may think he ignores them.
That is a powerful thing to hear.
Because being misunderstood can become part of the communication barrier itself.
The person speaking becomes frustrated.
The DeafBlind person becomes frustrated.
The conversation becomes harder.
Eventually, someone may stop trying.
Nobody intended to exclude anyone.
But someone can still end up feeling left out.
Our member does.
“A lot.”
That tells us something about DeafBlind communication that is easy to miss.
Silence does not necessarily mean disinterest.
A lack of response does not necessarily mean someone is ignoring you.
And difficulty following a conversation does not mean someone has nothing to contribute.
So what can the other person do?
Our member gives us a wonderfully uncomplicated answer:
“They should speak clearly and not shout.”
Perhaps that is where we begin.
Not by assuming.
Not by getting louder.
Not by deciding that the person is being difficult.
Just by changing the way we approach the conversation.
Speak clearly.
Give the person a chance to respond.
Check that they received the information.
And if something isn’t working, try another way.
That sounds simple.
It is.
But simple does not mean insignificant.
What does this teach us about the DeafBlind person?
It teaches us that the person is still there, even when communication becomes difficult.
They still have something to say.
They still want information.
They still want to hear the discussion in the meeting.
They still want music and radio.
They still want conversations with family and friends.
They still want to participate.
They still want to make their own decisions.
And, perhaps most importantly, they still want ordinary human connection.
Our member spoke about wanting to have “a happy conversation.”
That is not a special request.
It is something most of us take for granted.
Beyond the hearing aid
A hearing aid may help someone hear better.
But it cannot make other people understand DeafBlind communication.
That part belongs to all of us.
This is where Beyond Access becomes bigger than a device.
Access may open the door.
But people still have to meet each other on the other side.
For a DeafBlind person, communication can require more effort, more attention and sometimes a different approach.
That does not mean the person has less to contribute.
It means we may need to change the way we communicate so that their contribution can reach us.
And perhaps that is one of the most important lessons of all.
When communication breaks down, our first question should not always be:
“Why isn’t this person responding?”
Perhaps sometimes it should be:
“What can I change so that we can understand each other?”
Because communication is something we create together.
And when we change the way we communicate, we may discover that the person we thought was silent had quite a lot to say.