Way back in September of 2024, Julie gave a phenomenal overview of the difference between Intention vs. Impact. But we wanted to revisit the topic in text. So here we go!
Julie
A few years back I had applied for admission into a graduate program, and due to my hearing loss, I prefer text-based communication including text messages and email.
I received an email from an admissions officer requesting that I call him to review some components of my application. I shared that I am hearing impaired, and best communicate through text or emails.
The response I received was an exuberant “That’s GREAT! I have been wanting to practice my sign language! Let’s set up a Zoom call so I can talk with you!”
I read the email, took a deep breath and paused for a moment –
I realized that the INTENT of this offer likely came from a genuine desire to assist and accommodate my hearing loss.
The IMPACT, however, was quite the opposite.
Assumptions were made which were greatly erroneous. I disclosed my disability which led to conclusions being reached without my consultation about how I communicate, the best modality to use for said communication, and being treated as a novelty or plaything for this person to use for their own gain – in this case, the incorrect notion of ASL practice opportunities.
So, I did what I usually do when these situations arise – as they do frequently – I sighed to myself, muttered under my breath for a minute, and then politely declined his offer, and reiterated that text and email would be appropriate –
I experience these types of microaggressions all the time – and I bring it back to the idea of INTENT vs. IMPACT in impressions, statements, and actions that we engage in with one another.
The INTENT of the ideas you are sharing, compliments you are giving or offers of assistance that you are extending may be in conflict with the IMPACT that your actions are having on someone’s sense of safety, security, confidence, interest, and desire to engage with you for any longer than necessary.
I offer another dialogue that I have found myself involved in far too many times – and it most frequently occurs after someone that is Deaf has excelled in an area or achieved something and it has been shared with the public.
For example, Nyle DiMarco was a contestant on the show, “Dancing with the Stars” in 2016. The amount of times that someone said to me a version of this statement: “OH! Did you KNOW that there is a guy on Dancing with the Stars who is DEAF!? He does SO WELL!”
Really, you could swap out Nyle DiMarco for any public figure that happens to have a hearing loss – for example, the actress Marlee Matlin, Miss America 1995 Heather Whitestone, or Linda Bouve of Sesame Street. The message is the same – that it is a miracle of sorts that someone with a hearing loss can go on and achieve things in spite of this horrible condition that they are plagued with – again – INTENT VS. IMPACT. And, of course, there is an underlying presumption of incompetence – that while this person may have achieved this extraordinary feat by “overcoming” this disability – the rest of us may not.
These types of situations occur often – with both people that have known me for the majority of my life or those that are on the receiving end of one of my disclosure speeches – “Hi, just so you know I wear two hearing aids and I may need you to repeat things” –
These microaggressions imply that the person with whom I am interacting has made a judgement about my level of competence, my intellect, my preferred communication style and perhaps about my overall functioning in a world that was not designed with my needs in mind.
It is time to shift our thinking to the least dangerous assumption – to presume competence of those that you meet that happen to have a disability. We are more than our symptoms, our outward physical challenges, or our behavioral manifestations.
Susan Rubin, an autistic self-advocate, put it best when she stated, “I do not want to be the poster child for autism. I do not want to carry that burden.” I echo her sentiment – I do not want to be the poster child for those with a hearing impairment or representative of anyone else that has a disability of any type – my experiences are just that, my experiences.
I ask you, as we move forward together, to begin to always make the least dangerous assumption – always presume competence.
Brad
In Buddhist lore, there’s a story that highlights the nuance that lives in the space between intention and impact. In one of the Buddha’s pre-enlightened lives, he found himself on a ship when something bad went down. In some tellings it’s a band of pirates, in other tellings it’s a lone thief. But in all tellings the Buddha acts the same way.
He kills someone.
When the ne’er-do-well makes his intentions known, the Buddha has a decision to make. Does he stand by and allow this to happen? Does he allow the villain to incur bad karma? Or does he act to prevent this, and in so doing incur the bad karma himself?
He takes on the bad karma.
The result isn’t some Disney-fied ending. There’s no last-minute rescue from some compassionate deity. There’s no last-minute reconsideration of the villain. There’s no magical re-tipping of the scales in the afterlife to protect him from the consequences of his actions.
The intention is to spare the villain the bad karma.
The impact is to take it upon himself.
The consequence meant he was reborn as a Toronto Maple Leafs fan or something.
We’re no different than the Buddha in this respect. We’re not spared the consequences of our actions no matter how good-hearted our intentions are. This is why intention is so important. What we do must be worth the impact. The trouble is, so often we don’t know what the impact is going to be. Because of either good-hearted intentions or societal norms.
Let me give you some examples of how that can manifest for a hard of hearing dude like me.
Once upon a time, I disclosed my hearing loss to someone I was just meeting. Sympathy alit in their eye, which I appreciated. More than once I’ve gotten a confused look that said “I’m not sure how that relates to me.” Seeing someone understand that communicating with me would take some adjustments was a relief. Until they opened their mouth.
“Oh! I know ASL…”
And they signed MY NAME IS… and fingerspelled their name.
I know a smattering of ASL and am learning a smattering more. But I don’t use ASL to communicate. This person was showing how they are more enlightened than a lot of people. They knew deafness was more common than society cares to admit. And so they learned at least a little ASL.
Which I love and which I hate.
I love it, because the desire to be able to communicate with a Deaf person was great enough that they went out of their way to start to learn another language.
I hate it because it makes me feel like I’m doing deaf wrong. It took me decades to start to disclose my hearing loss. To hear someone be willing to accommodate me only to have that accommodation not work for me is a blow to the ego.
Their intention was to help me.
Their impact hurt me.
While society may ignore how common hearing loss is, it most certainly does not ignore the inconvenience it causes.
Whenever someone asks us to repeat ourselves too many times, we get annoyed with them. It’s a learned behavior born from a society obsessed with time. We’re expected to stuff as much as inhumanly possible into a day, a week, a life. And thus being forced to repeat ourselves can get in the way of that.
And it proves sometimes intention can be subconscious.
I’ve seen someone’s face flicker with this annoyance. They’re doing something I hate: math. They’re doing a quick calculation of me. Am I messing with them? Am I trying to get them in trouble? Am I an elvish-mark’d abortive rooting hog*?
Their intention, intuitive though it be, is to protect themself from my nefarious rakish ways.
Their impact is to make me feel like a waste of oxygen.
I am not immune from this societal influence. I’ve unconsciously deducted IQ points during a particularly challenging interaction with a hard of hearing person. The difference is: I caught myself and redid my calculation of them. Even with my limited math skills, this goes a long way. Because it’s not an indictment on any one person but rather of society and its systemic audist attitudes. It’s the reason the word “dumb” used to be inextricably tied to the inability to hear.
Society has a long way to go. In many areas. But I hope that you’ll now think twice about your societal-informed intentions the next time you get flustered at having to repeat yourself a time too many.
Mistakes can be good,
Provided you learn from them.
Nobody’s perfect.
*The insult is from Richard III Act 1. Sc. 3 Line 692
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