As a hearing person, it is virtually impossible for me to imagine what it is like to be deaf in a hearing world. There are so many wonderful sounds that hearing people take for granted that the deaf never have the pleasure of hearing. Sounds like the wind blowing through the trees, birds singing on a beautiful spring day, the ocean’s waves crashing against the shore, or a warm cozy fire crackling in a fireplace, just to name a few. When I consider the deaf, I think about how they do not ever experience the joy of singing along to their favorite song and imagining that they are as gifted vocally as the person who recorded it. They also do not get to experience the emotions that different types of music can stir within the heart of a person. The beauty of hearing is lost to the deaf, which can leave them feeling isolated and alone.
Imagine for a moment, if you will, that you are a deaf pastor, and you have been invited to a meeting with the head pastor and all the leadership of the church. When you arrive, there is no interpreter, so there is no way for you to really contribute to the meeting, or understand what is being discussed. Towards the end of the meeting, someone says, “Let’s pray,” which is the customary way to adjourn a church meeting, and all heads bow while someone prays, leaving you not only unable to hear what is being said, but also unable to see anyone’s lips moving. It is easy to understand how, after experiences such as this, the deaf feel so isolated and alone and even carry intense anger and hostility toward hearing people.
As I listened to this true life experience recently, my heart broke for the deaf person. I saw this situation as a form of nonverbal communication with a devastating impact. Those men were not trying to be rude or alienate their deaf pastor. In fact, they probably thought they had shown respect by inviting him to the meeting. They were simply doing what hearing people do—having conversation. However, their oblivion to their insensitivity was shocking to me, and I recognized even more the necessity for people to be cognizant of their impact on the lives of the people around them.
As I pondered the situation, it occurred to me that when hearing people walk into a room filled with deaf people who are signing, they assuredly must feel the same type of isolation if they do not know how to sign. However, I am inclined to think that the deaf may be more apt to do whatever they can to help hearing people feel more included in the group. I do not know this to be true, but I am inclined in this way because the deaf live with the scars of isolation on a daily basis, making them less likely to want to create isolation for others. Nevertheless, considering the fact that there are far more hearing people in the world than there are deaf people, I believe that the onus is on the part of the hearing to do more to try and relate to the deaf. I think the best place to start is to develop empathy for the deaf, which requires learning something about their world view, just as you would when visiting a foreign country. The video and link below are some resources that speak to the communication challenges for the deaf.
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