Don't Holler At Us

Lotta Studio Photo.

This is no time to be hard of hearing. What good is enunciation if the speaker is wearing a mask? Imagine. Imagine. You cannot read lips, study facial expressions, nor come too close. Yelling does not work either. Please, do not holler at us. We just want clarity.

When this is over, lip readers around the world will rejoice, especially me!

I work in a warehouse with loud background noises. Ring. Vroom. Crank! Ring. Vroom. Crank. All day long. There are forklifts going, lift machines, saws, paint mixers, key cutting machines-all going on simultaneously.  At times I can barely hear my thoughts, never mind a coworker or anyone else. 

To top it off, hearing aid wearers can attest, our devices are at risk. A single pair can easily cost $3,000.00. All you have to do to lose them is wear a mask with a fat piece of elastic and your sound system could fall to the ground without you even feeling it, let alone hearing it.  You would probably never hear it.  A couple of weeks ago a guy told me how his mother lost hers with the mask.

“Be Careful!” he warned me.   

We didn’t even know each other. He happened to overhear a conversation I was having with another hearing aid wearer regarding the challenges of hearing during the pandemic. He interceded. He knew the struggle.  He offered me dozens of hearing aid batteries, but mine were a different size. Kindness does still exist.   

Hearing Loss Association of America estimates 48 million people experience hearing loss in varying degrees.  Young, old, and in-between, navigating through communication in general is not easy. 

At the same time, COVID 19 is wreaking havoc on all of us.  But you would have never told me that a pandemic would prevent me from reading lips.  Would keep me from hugging the children in my family who expect to be hugged by Cousin and Auntie Shaunda.  Whispering is another impossibility.  Never could hear a whisper too clearly anyway. 

Years ago, I danced to a melodic reggae beat at a club in New Haven. My dance partner whispered smoothly in my ear—so he thought. He kept repeating himself. We ended up bumping heads. One light brown forehead bumping against another chocolate brown forehead. It was most embarrassing. The more he did the worse it got. I can’t hear soft pitches. High frequency pitches are off limits. Especially with background noise.  It was a nice dance. But I will never know what he said. 

Circling back to COVID 19, we who read lips, miss conversations outside of Zoom, Duo or other platforms. We miss the way you say things with a grin, seeing your beautiful teeth, live music, poetry readings, hell, even an occasional face-to-face argument. 

That is on hold, for now.  In the meantime, be patient with us. Speak clearly. Come as close as you safely can and tell us things will get better.

Shaunda Holloway is a writer, artist, and curator based in Hamden. Read more about her work at her website.