View from the Court
“Whoever said words don’t hurt has never been hit with a dictionary.”
~Unknown
That quote – which wasn’t said by Mark Twain- hides some truth in humor. What isn’t funny is infringements on the First Amendment. It’s perhaps the most misunderstood part of The US Constitution, probably because it’s bandied about so often. You need to look at who is trying to do the censoring. Private company? They can censor you until the moon falls into the sea.. It’s just the US Government that can’t censor you.
Sorta.
There are exceptions, because there are always exceptions. Two I want to mention are: “fighting words” and “Fire.”
Back in 1942 The Supremes heard a case Chaplinksy v. New Hampshire. In it Mr. Chaplinksky called a city official a racketeer and Fascist. He was arrested for using “offensive, derisive or annoying words.” Mr. Chaplinsky said thou doth protest too much. He felt his First Amendment rights were being trampled upon. And the case made it all the way up the judicial ladder. The Court said “thems is fighting words!”
Well, not exactly those words.
What they did say was that fighting words are not protected under the First Amendment. And what, pray tell, are “fighting words” exactly?
“Those which by their very utterance inflict injury or tend to incite an immediate breach of the peace.”
As someone who’s been on the receiving end of some years-long bullying, I can attest to how some words “very utterance inflict injury” But that’s a story for a different day. For today, can you imagine someone being arrested for simply calling a government employee a Fascist? I can think of some pretty terrible things said by our elected officials that might not have been said if the court doctrine of fighting words were enforced.
But I digress.
The other exception is “You can’t yell fire in a crowded theater.” I thought it was born out of the Iroquois Theatre fire in Chicago where 602 people died because the exit doors opened inward. The first rush of attendees were pushed against the door by the mob behind them, unable to open the doors. While that was part of the story, it wasn’t the whole story. (Source)
Nor was it the story behind my second exception to the First Amendment.
That story is from the 1919 Supreme Court case Schenck V United States. Schneck was arrested for distributing anti-war pamphlets. In the unanimous decision, Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes Jr said:
The most stringent protection of free speech would not protect a man in falsely shouting fire in a theatre and causing a panic
(Source)
I gotta say, while I agree with the analogy, I don’t agree with the judgment. I’ve been a librarian for too long to agree with what, essentially, amounts to censorship.
I also gotta say, it’s about time to relate this to hearing loss. Specifically, I want to talk about labels. Even more specifically the ones Julie and I use. We stress there is no one way to be deaf…but neither of us use that word. Neither do we both use the same alternative.
Hearing Impaired
Words have power.
Words are personal.
Personally, Julie owns this controversial term. Because when she was first thrown into the hearing loss waters, that was the name of the boat that rescued her. So much of what we’re exposed to as younglings carries a greater weight than it otherwise might have. I, too, had seen the great ship Hearing Impaired when I was a wee lad. But I wasn’t ready to do anything but cling onto my raft of denial at that time.
But it resonated with Julie.
The OED cites the earliest-recorded use of “hearing impaired” to 1946 in Charleroi, Pennsylvania (Source). The term was used by the medical community and is a prime example of the medical model of disability. It focuses on trying to fix things that impair a person from being like the majority of people. It’s important to note that the term did not come from the Deaf Community. Not that Julie would have taken to the Deaf Community, either.
Because she’s not Deaf.
She’s deaf.
The first is a distinct culture, the second is a physical sense. And it’s, in part, due to this acknowledged difference that the term hearing impaired become controversial. “Who are you to say I need to be fixed, that I’m less than the majority of people?” Deaf activists and their allies railed against the focus on what a person doesn’t have.
But again, words are personal.
Julie acknowledges and respects the opinion that “hearing impaired” is troublesome. But you know who else is well acquainted with trouble? Julie. She’s a trouble-maker. . To paraphrase the underappreciated John Lewis, she always “speaks up, speaks out, gets in the way, gets in good trouble, necessary trouble, and helps redeem the soul of the hearing impaired.” (Source)
She’s not afraid to rock the boat. No matter what it’s called. The term that she feels the best about is “hearing impaired”. She’s not trying to say everyone should use her term. So don’t tell her what term to use. And for those of you out there struggling with the comfort you feel using the term, turn to here for the courage to use it.
Hard of Hearing
WIth the bevy of salt in my salt-and-pepper beard, not to mention the DeMatteo skill at aging phenomenally well, I bet y’all think I’m older than Julie. I’m not.
But my term of choice is.
The first attested use of “Hard of Hearing” dates back to the year The Bard was born; 1564. (Source) My love of literature isn’t why I chose the term. I only just now learned that fun bit of trivia. Nor is my admiration of alliteration the reason why I chose the term. Actually, I have a hard (heh) time pointing to just one thing.
I tried on more labels than a one-man show tries on costumes.
I don’t have the energy nor the bravery to use deaf. Because I’ve been told before “you can hear, you’re not deaf.” If I were more assertive an advocate, I may have taken up the challenge. Because proving deafness to be a spectrum is a worthy teachable moment. But I’m much too introverted to take up that cause.
I tried hearing impaired for a while. But even though it’s the same number of syllables, it felt like it took longer to say. Plus, it feels too clinical for my liking. And that feeling is tied to my desire to be more than my hearing loss. But until I found a phrase that fit, I had trouble thriving with my hearing loss.
There were plenty more, “partially deaf”, “I have hearing loss”, “my hearing is bad”, and so many other clunky ways to say it. Eventually, I tried on “hard of hearing” and it just stuck. It feels softer than “hearing impaired” and it’s less challenging than deaf. The “hard” part shows how it’s a constant struggle, which I don’t think people realize. I certainly didn’t until I started talking about it.
Plus, pride in being Bostonian plays a part. Because whenever I tell someone I’m hard of hearing, they know exactly where I’m from.
Hearing loss is not
one-size-fits-all, never was.
Use whatever works.
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