Down the Tubes Productions

We were presented with the opportunity to take “Hearing Things with Julie and Brad” on the road in the form of presenting at the Hearing Loss Association of America (HLAA) New England conference the last weekend in March – The following blog post takes you through my side of the story…before, during and after! 

Read on to see how it went, if we will do it again, and if we’re still speaking…because nothing tests a partnership quite like traveling together for the first time! 

THE LEAD UP: 

I have been to exactly one conference in my career – where I fangirled out on the brilliant and unsuspecting author, Lois Lowry, as she was entering the bathroom. As educators, the only traveling we do for work involves sneaking down the hallway to steal the “good scissors” out of the copy room or dashing up a few flights of stairs to the teacher you’re always nice to because they have “the good stuff” stock in their classroom cabinets – including, but not limited to, new white board markers, chart paper, and an unlimited supply of staplers. 

I was ecstatic about this new adventure, humming a few bars of “On the Road Again” and badly impersonating Willie Nelson’s iconic vibrato, and of course plotting my outfits and weighing the importance of ensuring that Brad and I would be dressed in complimentary color palettes. 

I started sketching out the first draft of many packing lists and my mind began wandering about – here are the thoughts that were rattling around my brain as I debated necklaces, scarves and shoes to compliment the carefully crafted ensembles: 

1. I am a little concerned that there will be some type of crazy emergency that I will miss at night because my hearing aids will be out and I will be unable to hear any alarms or announcements. I then realize that everyone else in the hotel with me likely relies on some type of technology to assist them with their ability to hear and process the world. This thought made me laugh and made me feel a little better. 

2. Maybe I should bring Rocky? Is the hotel pet friendly? He would be handy to have around if there are noises that I can’t hear overnight – but then I remind myself that sneaking in the world’s most unruly dog disguised as an emotional support animal is a very ill conceived plan – because he needs an emotional support animal for his own well-being. 

3. I should get hard copies of the hotel room key just in case the cell phone electronic key doesn’t work – as it has never worked for me, so far. 

4. Do I bring a frying pan to keep under the bed in case of an intruder? 

5. I have to remember to take a picture of the number of my room. The last time I traveled, I barely paid attention to this important detail, figured I would remember it, and embarrassingly roamed the hall of my floor (which I blissfully remembered) trying to find my room. I finally relented and slunk down to the front desk to confess that I had completely lost my way. Can’t have that happen again. 

6. I have to remember to pack my travel alarm clock that shakes the mattress – what if I don’t wake up in time? Should I schedule a wake-up call? And then I remember that my hearing aids will be out – so there goes that option. Luckily, we’re presenting in the late afternoon so if I oversleep I’ll make a fabulous entrance at some point.

7. We have to split up snack purchasing responsibilities – we can’t be without our standard “Hearing Things with Julie and Brad” snack collection. I have to remind Brad to pick up Ghost Pepper Chips at Trader Joe’s when he goes before the conference. I better tell Brad to get a couple of bags of our fave spicy chips – we’re not capable of rationing one bag over a weekend. 

THE NIGHT BEFORE WE LEFT:  

I tried. I really did. But the near ridiculous amount of hair products, heat styling tools, shoe options, and toiletries took up half the suitcase. Hence the giant red suitcase as opposed to the daintier, smaller option. I envy the people that can pack for a weekend with just one tiny bag and a computer bag (looking at you, Brad!). I have packed 4 cherry chapsticks. (I hope that’s enough – but hopefully Brad has his coat with him that has my secret stash in one of the pockets…)

Thankfully, the hotel has an option for virtual check-in – which I did – and loved the ability to pick my room. As a woman traveling alone(ish), I needed to be strategic with room placement, and was thrilled to find one near the elevator on a high floor. 

THE MORNING OF THE TRAVEL DAY: 

I woke up with a headache, sinus pain and nausea. This was not how things were supposed to go – some Advil, Gatorade, dark chocolate, and Flonase knocked it all out by 10:00 a.m., thankfully. I was feeling pretty good, had a full work day ahead before I left for the conference and was grateful for the distraction. I almost forgot my flat iron – and for anyone following us, you know that my hair is A Whole Thing. I finally picked it up (still hot to the touch) and never let it leave my left hand until I walked out to my car. I can forget my hearing aids, but not my flat iron! 

TIME TO GO: 

Due to our work schedules, we were commuting to and from the event in separate vehicles which was probably a good thing seeing that Brad requires some quiet decompression time after work while I need to vent about my day, share funny anecdotes, and generally relish in conversation with other grownups after spending the day with my students. 

As Brad will tell you, my navigational skills are not the best – Lewis and Clark we are not – and as he frequently drives us places, I am stuck with the GPS. The infamous and confident declaration from me (sans glasses) of “Get off at exit 58” was met with a measured, controlled statement of “I think it’s 5B” from the driver (we were at exit 4). (I don’t know how – or why – he puts up with my nonsense. I’d have lost patience a long, long time ago in a galaxy far, far away).

Off I went, music blasting, confidently following the GPS in my car – and I was fine until I got on the highway with 25 miles between me and my next exit. Panic started to creep in, followed by, “What in the hell are you doing right now!?” and ended with “Well. If you freak out, you can drive home because you’re not that far away…”  Spoiler alert: Guess who missed the exit to get on Rte. 495? This girl.

I pulled up to the hotel, luckily grabbed a spot near the entrance, and decided to dash in and check-in, first, before lugging the ridiculous amount of items I have traveled with into the lobby where I will surely drop them all and cause a scene. Best to figure out the “lay of the land”, as it were, first. 

Check in was fine until I was told to “put the car you will be using this visit into the terminal”. I paused, searched my brain for what the outside of the hotel looked like because I was fairly certain I didn’t see a parking garage or fancy parking lot or anything that could even remotely be termed as a “terminal”. I was met with a blank stare from the clerk at the check-in desk. I returned her blank stare and then stated, “Where do you need me to put my car? I parked right out front to the left side? Is that incorrect? I didn’t see a terminal when I pulled in?”

She gestured downward to my hip and said “Card. Put your CARD in the terminal”. I glanced down and saw the credit card payment machine – for lack of a better term – and realized my error. I normally glaze over an uncomfortable mishearing and I almost never apologize for it – but this time I felt the need to explain my thinking, that I thought she had said “Car”. She laughed awkwardly and I couldn’t help myself – these words came flying out of my mouth: “You better get used to this type of interaction because there are about to be A LOT of us here with hearing loss very soon.”

I returned to my car, retrieved my cooler bag (remember, allergies); suitcase; backpack; garment bag; and bag of the traditional Hearing Things snacks ™. I piled it all on me and after a few hesitant steps forward and stuffing down my common sense that I should either do two trips or wait for Brad to show up and give me a hand – I made it through the lobby and up to my floor without incident. 

WON’T YOU BE MY NEIGHBOR? 

As good luck would have it, we were next door neighbors! Our rooms were right across from the elevator – the worst location according to all of my typical hearing friends. Turns out, it was the best location for us! Make all the noise you want, late night revelers – we can’t hear you! The convenience of being right at the elevator was also great for the frequent dashes I ended up doing up and down and back again the first day of the conference for a variety of reasons. The close proximity made it so simple to dash back and forth for snacks and seamless transitions to flopping down and watching the Sox and Bruins while doing our nightly, snack laden rehash of the day events. I think there was a comfort for both of us, too, being right there in the event of an emergency. Unless it happened at night…in which case it was a fruitless exercise as neither one of us would be able to hear the other one pounding on the door or the wall. We learned quickly that if we were looking for the other one, knocking on the door didn’t work even with our “ears” in – so we resorted to texting each other “knock knock” to alert that we were outside awaiting entry. We will have to come up with a system next time or get rooms with adjoining doors from the inside to have that added safety measure in the highly unlikely (but still possible) event of an emergency. 

DROPPED INTO THE (DHH) DEEP END: 

I have been gifted with the ability or curse, depending on how you look at it, to be able to converse with literally anyone, on any topic, anytime. This skill came in handy at the cocktail reception (the name tags also helped immensely because it was easier to glance at the name tag and open with the person’s name). I was blown away by how friendly everyone was, and also was taken aback a bit by how forward people were in asking me about my hearing loss. This was new, uncharted territory for me as usually I’m surrounded by people who either already know my story, know me well enough to ask whatever they want to know, or are very anxious 

about the whole thing and would rather make a joke or say nothing at all. Not the case in a room full of deaf and hard of hearing people. 

Here were a few things that happened: 

1. I was met with shock more than once that I did not know ASL or that my family did not learn ASL when I was growing up. 
2. Not a single person held back on asking me about my “hearing loss story”, and then asked detailed follow-up questions. 
3. I was in a room where most of the attendees had hearing loss and were aided by assistive technology including hearing aids and cochlear implants. 
4. I was surprised by the number of people I spoke to that had hearing aids and then transitioned to cochlear implants – I was encouraged by their positive experiences but still not sure I can even consider that decision right now. Fortunately for both Brad and myself, this is not a decision we are faced with just yet. 
5. I found myself still relying heavily on my auditory channel and lipreading when listening to the presenters, which was not something I anticipated considering the caption display and ASL interpreters. 
6. There was a “communication board” on an easel – a place to put information on a post-it note if you were looking to connect with someone, were in need of assistance, or wanted to leave your contact information. 
7. We all had lanyards with name tags hanging on them stating our name and affiliations. The number of times people approached me, picked up my name tag first to confirm my name and then began speaking took a little getting used to, for sure. 
8. I’m horrible at accommodating DHH people. Absolutely horrid. I kept talking when people turned away, I would default to speaking at a conversational tone because I am not used to having my voice increase in volume, and I spoke at a very rapid rate. 
9. My rate of speech is fast (I’m an Italian from Boston!) and even though I made a deliberate effort to slow down during our presentation, the ASL interpreter informed me afterwards that I went way too fast – and I wasn’t allowed to have caffeine. 
10. I am not used to having to rephrase and repeat myself to others, and I found it draining. I have a new respect and appreciation for those that accommodate me continuously. 
11. I learned that a common way to get someone’s attention was to wave with your palm down, as a nonverbal visual cue, as opposed to physically approaching someone and tapping their arm or shoulder. This was new to me, and I liked it alot better – even though at first glance I thought it came off as a little rude to be waving in someone’s direction instead of calling their name. Then I remembered where I was.  
12. I was exhausted. The schedule was packed with speakers and sponsors, and while it was all very interesting and informative – the listening fatigue set in for me by lunchtime. I was able to retreat to my hotel room for about 20 minutes during lunch, which afforded me the chance to review our notes prior to our presentation a few hours later. It was not long enough of a time for me to regroup and reset. I require a short nap almost every afternoon after teaching a full day – but sitting and listening to speaker after speaker was too much for my system. I was definitely on overload, and was experiencing something similar to what Brad goes through when he has an “introvert hangover”. 
13. I felt pretty good about our presentation, there are some things we would have done differently if we had the chance to go back in time and do it again. I tend to be my own worst critic, so this is par for the course. Hopefully, we will have a chance to bring our “show on the road” with increasing frequency! 
14. I really enjoyed the chance to “hang out” with some of the other HLAA Boston folks – and look forward to getting more involved in the efforts of that chapter. 
15. I heard the phrase, “Between two worlds” – finally I had a clear way to describe how I felt as someone with a hearing impairment in a world not designed with my needs in mind. Finally. 

THE WIND DOWN: 

Due to a schedule shift for personal reasons, I was unable to attend the final day of the conference, but true to form I shared a “To Do” list with Brad via text – the irony of the introvert needing to take on the extrovert’s job and follow up with people and hand out business cards admittedly made me laugh. We haven’t had a chance to sit together and talk about our experiences after some time has passed, but from my vantage point we are fantastic travel partners. This harkens back to our ongoing open and blunt communication skills (we talk about EVERYTHING), our collaborative skills, and our comfort with coming together to hang out and separating to make our own connections and have our own experiences. I think it went well – and am curious to read Brad’s impressions!