December 2023

The clueless “Are you deaf?” remarks seem to violently thud in my head. If only they were aware that their simple jokes were true. If only they knew that they were the reason I now wear my hair down, covering my ears. My blonde hair acts as a curtain, shielding the two tan-colored machines crammed tightly into my ears. Hearing aids.

Hard of hearing at four years old meant plenty of visits to the hearing aid clinic. With the seemingly forever time spent there, I have found positive things to look forward to, like being greeted by the front desk lady’s warm smile or the smell of the freshly baked chocolate chip cookies waiting for me by the old coffee machine.

When I was younger, hearing aids felt like an accessory, especially due to the fact that my own American Girl Doll had been customized to have them too. As time went on, it seemed as if suddenly friendly eyes established into side glances. Hearing aids were no longer an accessory, but instead became defined as a disability. My hair no longer remained in a high ponytail, but was let out looser or let down to cover my ears. It suddenly became this secret I had to keep, a piece of my identity I had to keep hidden.

It felt like everyone was so quick to make assumptions, adults categorizing me as shy and quiet in classrooms, repeatedly telling my parents I need to focus on advocating for myself. What they didn’t acknowledge was the fact that I just had this constant everyday fear I would mishear something and respond the wrong way. I did not want to be defined by traits that did not belong to me. I wanted to prove those assumptions wrong, particularly during my high school years. I was set about joining clubs, meeting new people, engaging in conversations with classmates and asking my teachers numerous questions. I was inspired to learn more about Deaf culture, so I enrolled into an American Sign Language class at school as well. I had undertaken surpassing my parents’ expectations, proving hearing loss did not limit me in participating in various activities and trying new things.

Taking this leap out of my comfort zone has led me to learn more about myself and create goals I am now determined to achieve, one of which include becoming an audiologist. As an audiologist, I will not be the doctor that focuses on “fixing” a diagnosis. Instead, I want to really get to know my patients, and serve as a role model that they can look up to at any time. I also realize that knowing American Sign Language will be very beneficial and utilized in my career as well, allowing communication to be more accessible. I believe pursuing this career would make my immigrant parents very proud as well, especially as a first generation student.

If I was ever offered the opportunity to magically receive my hearing back, would I accept it? It would be a desirable option, yet my personal experiences have taught me that life without hearing can still be full of meaningful occurrences, create strong connections with others, and satisfaction. In fact, I believe these tan-colored machines have shaped me into who I am today and have shifted my perspective of the world, my fears and insecurities. Hearing aids, a wheelchair or glasses should not result in a lack of confidence, but instead, be showcased with certainty. It should not bring an individual down. Instead, it should motivate them to strive higher, move forward, and focus on making a positive impact on the world, just as I am now.