As a Deaf person who wears a hearing aid, swimming in a pool has always felt like flipping a switch to me.  Sound to silence.  Add kids and weather, antics ensue.

This article shares a Deaf Perspective on what it’s like being Deaf at the pool sans hearing devices, including the communication challenges it naturally presents. It also covers how hearing people can be more aware and inclusive.

Save

What it’s like being Deaf at the pool

As a Deaf person who wears a hearing aid, going to the pool has always felt like “flipping a switch” to me.  I take my hearing aid out to swim, and when I remove it, I am crossing over.  I fly from 0 to 1000. I go from hearing chattering, cars, footsteps, kids screaming, loud-loudness to a slow motion sound sequence with brilliant fireworks. With one switch, these huge sounds come to a simple halt leaving in its wake the occasional sprinkle of a faraway sounding air symphony.   That moment is a rush.  That moment is a little rock in the stream I step on to cross over from one land to the next.  I spring off from it exhilarated yet re-calibrating to shift the information and energy from my ear to my other senses.

As blissful as that sounds (and it is), it does pose some communication challenges with hearing people around me who don’t use ASL and/or know I’m Deaf. Because of all the water around, I may not have my hearing aid on. This means I have no actual useable hearing to float me through a lipread conversation (I’d have to completely lipread it which is, you know.. iffy).

So I just embrace it and do my thing. In doing that, I keep it simple. Communication is real visual and kept short and sweet. It’s always been that way and those of my family and friends who don’t sign know that. For those who do know ASL (like my kids), it’s very social and we communicate easily. Yep, not a single, “Watch me, mama/Did you see that mama” is missed.

But this article isn’t about all that. It’s about the communication that goes a little sideways with the other peeps at the pool–especially when they’re new to you.

Save

When You’re Deaf at the Pool, You Prepare for Anything (and Everything)

This summer, my family made a big left-to-right cross country move from California to Virginia.  It’s nice to be back on the East coast after many years away from it.  I admit, there’s a lot I’ve actually forgotten about summers around here.  First off – the weather.  I mean there’s WEATHER here.  It rains!  Not just a little drizzle either, if you blink too slow you’ll get stuck in a downpour.  You know, it never rains in Southern California, so I guess we’re making up for it.

To my children (5 and 2), everything is new.  Taking advantage of summer, we’re scouting out new parks, new places, new roads to take and things to do.  Having just hit their swimming strides after early summer lessons, we were eager to join a local pool down the street.  From the handpainted welcome sign to the casual entry protocol (lifeguard waves from the high chair), this pool felt very cozy and small town. Like many things, coming from a big city to this, it’s an adjustment.  I couldn’t get used to the fact that we could PARK.  And that it wasn’t packed.  Usually just a few families were there.   Unless it was Thursday–A.K.A. “Karate kid” days when a martial arts camp descends upon the place. 

As with everything else, a new place, with new people (in a POOL, no less) requires some communication adjustments too.  Everyone at the pool knows I’m the Deaf mom. Because I’m straight with people about it.  There’s no hiding it anyway, and it’s simply that small of a place. 

My children are also wildly enthusiastic about swimming, fleeing from the sunscreen lotion, pool noodles, running from the kiddie pool to the big one, fighting with each other, screaming and demanding food so this keeps me from having to explain to anyone who is even slightly observant that I can’t chit chat right now. Simple, right?

You’d think so, but.. no. Here are some considerations:

Hearing aids don’t swim

At least mine don’t. So, I’ll usually take it out if I’m getting in the water. My goal is not to dunk my head, but with kids you kind of have to be ready for anything. As a long-time hearing aid wearer, I can attest there are plenty of places that can make them fizzle out, so I’m cautious. There are hearing aids and cochlear implants that are waterproof, but they are generally a separate device from the one someone would normally wear. I see more kids with these. I’m definitely in the less-is-more phase of life, at least with hearing aids.

Save

Unknown kids are communication curveballs

My experience with kids other than my own only goes as high of an age as my oldest child, with maybe a 2 year cushion.  My oldest is 5, so I continue to learn what other 5-7 year olds (who usually don’t have deaf parents or exposure to deaf people) are doing/saying and how they communicate. Kids’ speech can be especially tough to understand, but when kids are toddlers they’re not really interested in a detailed explanation of why I’m not understanding them.  Older kids, however, ARE interested and want the 411 from you.

“I’m deaf. That means I can’t hear you.”

I try to be as straight as possible with kids, so I tell them why I’m not understanding them. It’s been interesting to see their reactions:

Pantomime

From the freckly faced 7 year old missing her two front teeth. After staring with her mouth open for a full minute she came up with NECK-SLIT, POINT-TO-EAR, VIGOROUSLY-SHAKE-HEAD, to which I politely responded, THUMB-UP, WINK. I created a monster with that, unfortunately.  She stuck to me like a magnet for the next hour, trying out new sign creations she thought up.

Sneaking around

From the same girl who loved to “sign” and had befriended my 5 year old. Initially they asked if she could swim with her on the other side of the rope in the deeper end.  When I said no, she then approached MY MOM to ask HER if they could go. Maybe she thought she didn’t sign it clearly enough for Deaf Mom so Hearing Grandma would surely override.  Sorry sista.

Dissemination

From the 7 year old karate shit with the mohawk who was using one of the balls we brought and so graciously shared with the other kids and then bounce off my 2 year old’s head who gleefully swam by, babbling.  I moved in closer to step in, when the kid turns to me and asks me something while laughing and pointing to my son.  With no clue what he could be referring to, I simply smiled at first. But being 7, he was saying something specific about my son in front of a bunch of kids and I didn’t want to bluff.

So I informed him I was deaf in a firm, pleasant way while making my way past him.  He then proceeded to swim around trying to get other kids to “talk to her because she can’t hear”.  Oooohh. 

Always mindful my children are watching me, I do try to be as graceful as I can. I simply went back over to him smiling, removed our ball from his hands and said, “You’re so funny.  I’ll take my ball back now.” HA HA! Get your own ball, kid.

Save

Most people are cool

With these few exceptions, most people are mindful of their social graces.  You just never know when you’ll get a weird question from someone, or kids are just experiencing their first encounter with a deaf person.  The only thing you can control is your own reaction, really. Over time, I’ve learned with practice I can handle most social hiccups.

You’ll never be prepared for everything

One day, everyone else suddenly got out of the pool, so we followed suit.  Normally you can follow others’ visual cues to piece together what’s happening but all I could gather was some people were drying off, some making their way out like they were leaving.  Time to go, I guess? I couldn’t figure out why.  I stopped one of the lifeguards who was walking by and asked if they were closing.  He began a casual explanation of 3-4 sentences that I couldn’t quite make out.  It wasn’t making sense.  Still I asked again, feeling almost apologetic I couldn’t piece this together.  After a couple more tries, he shortened it to one word while pointing upward.  And I understood it.

“THUNDER.”

I jerked my head back and looked straight up into a blue sunny sky.

“Thunder?” asked the naive Californian.  He then pointed beyond the trees to reveal some gray clouds creeping up.  Downpour 10 minutes later.  Welcome to the East Coast.

Context is everything in communication, kids. Especially when there are no visual cues!

Save

A reminder not to take myself too seriously

As Labor Day draws near and this sweet summer place closes for the year, I celebrate these two guys.  My kids.  I am constantly reminded to see things and myself through their eyes. They will know their parents are deaf.  They will see the beauty in communicating with us visually. And for those who don’t know ASL, my kids will see creative (and hopefully graceful) solutions in action.  Every day is an opportunity.  Every day is a gift.

When you’re Deaf at the pool, social situations can make you feel like a real fish out of water.

It’s hard to feel 100 percent confident in these times.  Heck, it can feel pretty silly. But, I’m grateful for friends and family who can relate to this.  I KNOW I’m not alone.  As a mom or as a deaf person. 

Every deaf person has a crazy communication story. Every mom has a crazy-day-mom story.  This is a crazy-day-Deaf-mom story. Same thing but crazier!