Down the Tubes Productions

In recent history, there has been a shift in terminology regarding the preferred terms of people with hearing loss. 

As a quick primer, here are the current identifiers most commonly used by people that are deaf/hard of hearing: 

• Deaf (upper case D): Refers to a cultural identity, community, and shared language (like American Sign Language), not just a medical condition, notes the National Association of the Deaf.
• deaf (lowercase d): Describes the audiological condition of significant hearing loss, notes the Eversa website.
• Hard of Hearing: For individuals with mild to severe hearing loss, often benefiting from hearing aids, notes the American Speech-Language-Hearing Association (ASHA).
• Late-Deafened: People who lost hearing later in life, notes the National Deaf Center. 

The term “Hearing Impaired” is glaringly absent from this list due to it being viewed as a negative, and I have provided a summation of that history here courtesy of the National Association of the Deaf: 

• For many people, the words “deaf” and “hard of hearing” are not negative.  Instead, the term “hearing-impaired” is viewed as negative.  The term focuses on what people can’t do.  It establishes the standard as “hearing” and anything different as “impaired,” or substandard, hindered, or damaged.  It implies that something is not as it should be and ought to be fixed if possible.  

I respect the evolution of language. 

I respect that people have the right to make their own choice for which terminology is comfortable and representative of their identity. 

I am also not afraid to offend. 

And I am about to become the whole problem. 

I was diagnosed with degenerative sensorineural hearing loss in 1978. I was fitted with my first hearing aid at the age of 4, and received the second hearing aid at the age of 6. At that time, the common term used both medically and personally, was “hearing impaired”. 

I have never used – and will never use – another term to describe my disability identity. 

I do not view myself as “broken” because my body happens to work differently than what is considered “typical”. 

The  avoidance of the words “hearing impaired” does not trigger some magical, mystical power that prevents others from passing  judgment. Sadly, the second you disclose a disability, it is open season for a misperception or misinterpretation of your intellect, capabilities, education, and skill set. 

There is a belief that utilizing “hearing impaired” implies that the person is hindered, “less than”, damaged, and broken. Spoiler alert: My ears are broken, they don’t work correctly, they are permanently compromised, and in terms of efficiency they are decidedly “less than”. 

Lastly, the argument that the words “hearing impaired” imply that something is broken, useless and should be fixed if possible does not hold weight for me because my hearing loss is not reversible or able to be repaired. This flies in the face of the function of hearing aids – they are amplification devices, meant to increase the volume of the world using the residual hearing that I have left in my broken, useless and unfixable ears.

I respect others’ choices of the words that they use to describe their hearing loss, and expect that my decision to keep using “hearing impaired” receives that same respect. 

The bottom line is that no matter what I call it – I still have ears that do not work the way they should – and softening the language to disguise the severity of my loss for the comfort of others is a form of ableism.  

I may be hearing impaired, but I am not disabled.