Three deaf People Walk into an Aquarium…
No, this isn’t the beginning of a joke.
This is still all very new to me.
Though I’ve been involved in HLAA since January 2024, eighteen months is nothing compared to forty-two years. So, when I walked into the New England Aquarium with two fellow hearing aid users, it was a new experience.
It was not the first time I’d been to the house of fishes. I’d gone when I was but a guppy on a field trip. But this was the first time I’d been with bionic ears. And can I just say, that place is LOUD! Going on a Saturday meant the only schools there were made of fish. But it also meant parents and families were available to take their younglings. And boy did they!
As we bobbed and wove our way up and around the big center tank, it was very difficult to hear one another. One of the most misunderstood things about hearing loss is that making things louder isn’t always helpful to the hearing impaired. Making the person to whom we’re listening’s voice louder? Yay! Making the gaggle of other people around us voices louder? Boo! Filtering background noise is something that our brains are rubbish at. It’s a skill and like any skill practice makes perfect. But since a goodly bit of background noise is below our hearing threshold, we’d don’t get as much practice as those with baseline hearing. Ergo: filtering background noise requires a herculean active listening effort.
So we revert to moonwalking.
Well, ok, not moonwalking but rather walking backwards.
Whilst we were walking around the tank attempting to chat, we would instinctively turn to face each other. This meant one person was walking facing forward, one person was walking backward, and one person was crab-walking. We were ready to rephrase, to pause, to speak a wee but louder, whenever the need arose. Truth be told, we ended up stopping and tucking off to the side whenever a more in-depth conversation was called for.
But that’s what we did for ourselves. What did the aquarium do for us? Glad you asked!
They provided signs.
As I sit and write this, it strikes me that museums can be very DHH-friendly. The aquarium was no exception. All the tanks had placards next to, or above, them. We could read about the penguins or the eels, or the piranhas. We needn’t strain to hear a recorded narration or live speaker. They also had interactive displays that we could tap to learn more. If it weren’t for the hubbub going on around us, it might have been easy. As I’ve stated many a time, reading is a relief for me.
Then we went and saw the 3D movie on dolphins. That did have a recorded narration. And so I decided to ask for one of the closed captioned devices. The ticket-taker said she had to have the manager get it because they were locked up. Two dudes came by not long after. I wonder if one guy had the technical knowledge but because he wasn’t the manager, company policy meant that they both had to talk to me. In any case, I was impressed that they not only had the device and knew where it was kept but also they got it to me fairly quickly and told me how to use it. I’ve been to theaters where they just shoved it into my hands. The device had a couple of hiccups where it missed a phrase but overall, it was a great accommodation.
But the announcements were another matter.
I was told that the ads before the movie weren’t captioned but I didn’t expect there to be announcements that weren’t captioned. I had a harder time hearing those than I did the movie narration. I think it was a live speaker, which was why the messages weren’t part of the captions. I’ll be getting in touch to give them some suggestions.
All-in-all, I’d give the accessibility of the aquarium 4 out of 5 bionic ears. Because, apparently, I’ve started a rating system that uses bionic ears instead of stars…
Fish ears are hidden.
Not a disability.
I can’t say the same.
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