DeafGirly: How I feel about being deaf at work

It's been a whole year since I posted a blog on here. Life's been happening. And I guess I am no longer 'deaf in the city and having fun'... I am deaf in the countryside and having fun.

And I am still having fun. But it's a whole other kind of fun. It's an 11-hour working day, being a mum, exploring where we live now kind of fun. And I am here for that.

But it is exhausting. Particularly the work bit. Because in a virtual world, I now do all my communicating over video calls. Which means I am missing the full body language that helps me understand and piece together what people are saying.

And that means, more than ever, that I rely on the subtitles to help me keep up and feel included and part of things that are happening at work.

Microsoft Teams subtitles are not perfect but wow do I need them. They are not perfect in that one of my team mate's names comes up consistently as Bill Gates - and I do not work with Bill Gates. And that they don't translate acronyms very well. Or keep going when people talk over each other. Or decode accents brilliantly.

I feel like I am on the back foot a lot.

Luckily, I work with great people. Those who can see my eyes start to glaze over, read the panic in my face when I am being called on, or just generally know that I don't have a clue what's going on.

But all of that is exhausting. Listening is exhausting at the best of times. But listening from a grid of tiny faces is a whole other level of exhausting. Sometimes, I am convinced I am listening and I get to the end of a big group meeting and have no recollection of anything that happened. Because I am so busy listening, my brain forgets to store the information I am listening to.

When I first started writing this blog, it was because I felt my deafness defined every aspect of my life. And some of the writing helped me come to terms with that. In lockdown and remote working, sometimes I feel again as if deafness defines every aspect of my working life. 

Today, I had to articulate this on a really fascinating team-building exercise I was a part of. And for the first time in a long time I forced myself to really address how my deafness made me feel in the context of remote working.

This is what I wrote:

My deafness affects my ability to contribute. To learn. It dulls the impact that I can have. It excludes me from the conversation. It stops me feeling confident in my place in the world. And I feel sad, tired, lost, left out and isolated.

Do I think that 100% of the time? Absolutely not. But is it fixable? Not really no. 

But those feelings and acknowledging them took me right back to the early days of this blog. To when every day felt like that. To when I couldn't see how I was going to have a viable career.

As I was recovering from lipreading that two-hour team building call and drinking a cup of tea (while eating all the biscuits) I thought about what has changed since those early days of my career. And I think that it is my resilience and how I choose to handle myself.

Nowadays, I acknowledge I feel that way, then find the tools I know I have to help alleviate that feeling. It's not fixable. You can't fix deafness or the way it makes you feel. But you can chat to someone. Ask someone for support. Tell someone how you're feeling. Or just eat an entire limited edition Cadbury Christmas chocolate bar while lying in an exhausted heap on the sofa.

I also (hope) I keep the sadness and anger I sometimes feel about being deaf in a professional context and the anxiety I feel about it impacting my career out of my working relationships.  

I try to find constructive ways to convey this to my colleagues. Let them know when I need help. Or simply someone to tell me what the fresh merry hell is going on.

And I'm proud of that. It's been a journey.

It absolutely isn't easy being deaf. In so many aspects of my life. Don't even get me started on motherhood. But every day I try and work it out and do the best I can do. Because that's what 13 years of writing this blog has taught me I can do.

Happy Thursday peeps. It's almost the weekend. We got this.

DGx

Deaf Girly's return to work

When I went on maternity leave last August, one of the things I never considered was that I'd be returning to work in the middle of a global pandemic. But in May this year, that's just what I did.

Before I went on maternity leave, I had been working both in the office and from home and it was great. I'd have video calls with my colleagues around the world at odd times in my pyjamas and then head into the office to have real-life meetings and conversations. I liked this balance.

My deafness is a tough one when it comes to speech. I can hear the human voice quite well, but the clarity of what is being said is completely missing. It's like I'm living in a world where everyone speaks a different language to me. This means that when I chat to someone, I am completely reliant on lipreading and context guesswork to understand what they are saying.

This. Is. An. Exhausting. Existence.

When I was at school, I was statemented in order to get additional support. Someone from the council came and observed me in my 70-minute lessons and established that I have a hearing ability of just 40 minutes. After 40 minutes of listening, lipreading and guessing, I completely zone out. How did she discover this? Because after 40 minutes, I was fast asleep at my desk.

One time, I actually woke myself up sleep talking in my history A Level lesson.

Anyway, returning to a completely remote working set up challenged me in ways I never anticipated. Before I had perhaps a 60/40 split of calls versus real-world conversations. Now all my conversations take place over a video call. And do you know what? I don't find them easy.

And over the last few months, I've found myself questioning the value of my contributions to my team. The value of what I offer. I've felt like an outsider colleague. And I'd been struggling to put my finger on quite what was going wrong.

But yesterday in a call, I finally realised what it was.

One of my amazing team members is in Portugal. I work very closely with her and yesterday we were working on a really important document and editing it live over a Teams call.

I was doing the editing and was lipreading her over the screen - using the subtitles for support - to ensure that both our thoughts were included in the edit. However, what I realised was that even though I was 'hearing' what she was saying, I was so focused on piecing it all together that my brain forgot to retain it.

I would literally 'hear' whole sentences and two seconds later think, 'What did she say?'

It was madness. But the reality is, this is probably most of my calls right now. I am focusing so hard on hearing that I am completely unable to retain it at the same time. And I am so nervous about saying the wrong thing, that more often than not, I say completely the wrong thing. 

It's cringeworthily, facepalmingly horrific. 

The kind of horrific that leaves me thinking, 'I just need to keep my mute button on and stay in the background'. But those of you who know me will know that mute buttons are really not my usual style.

And this makes me sad.

When I realised what was happening in my call with my colleague and explained it, she was brilliant. She suggested summarising what she was saying in the chat so that I could refer back to it. And it worked. I heard, I understood and then I read the summary back to try and force my brain to retain the information. But it meant that we spent the best part of six hours on a call yesterday, bashing a piece of writing into shape. And I needed to lie in a dark room afterwards.

And this also makes me sad. Because I want to be the very best at my job. And I feel mediocre right now.

One of the things that the COVID-19 pandemic has really highlighted for me, is how I am having to rethink all my deaf person life hacks. Before, with my work, I would make sure I had a balance of office and remote working so that I felt included and part of the team. Before the pandemic I had really strong career ambitions, and now I find myself wondering if I will ever realise those.

Before with bars, shops and restaurants, I had ways of getting by that have all vanished behind a sea of facemasks - but that's a whole other story.

I know that I will hack a successful way of working again, but for now, I am stuck in that weird halfway period of sadness and a little bit of tantrumming while I work out what the heck I am going to do.

And do you know what? It was feeling like this twelve years ago in 2008 that inspired me to start this blog in the first place. And I worked it out then and I will work it out now.

Deaf Girly and the (Covid-19) face masks

There's been a lot in the news and on social media recently addressing the issues around face masks and deaf people being able to lipread. Poorna Bell wrote this piece for the iPaper about how deaf people are being affected by the Coronavirus crisis.

I'll admit, this subject scares me so much, I've not really wanted to talk about it. Or think about it actually.

One of my biggest fears is ending up in hospital and being surrounded by masked people and having no clue what is going on. Especially if I'm in hospital with COVID-19 because I know I also won't have any of the family support I rely on to help me hear in tricky situations.

On the occasions that this thought has infiltrated my brain, I've gone down a rabbit hole not only of future what if's, but also of looking back and thinking about how difficult it would have been giving birth eight months ago if my midwife had been wearing a mask. Those instructions are literally life saving - in my case they were anyway. Had I not been able to lipread my third and final midwife, who had the demeanour of a soccer mom after two litres of strong coffee, I'm not sure my birth experience would have been the same - but that's a whole other blog.

I've seen the amazing suggestions for clear sections on face masks to allow for lipreading and hope that these one day become commonplace. But it doesn't take away from the fact that right now, they are not.

This week, we had a Tesco deliver order. FJM works very long hours and this coupled with a small baby makes supermarket trips in this current climate very very difficult. So when I was lucky enough to get delivery slot, I was thrilled. As I questioned whether I was suitable to claim that slot, I thought 'Yes, I am.'

All the staff in shops right now have masks on. It makes it completely impossible to understand them. Double this with the stress of actually going to the shops, which takes my deafness up a notch to 'no idea what's going on at all' and I'm just not ready for that level of deafness confrontation for the sake of a loaf of bread and some milk.

Indeed, the only time I have ventured out shopping since lockdown began, my card wouldn't work and I couldn't understand the masked shopkeeper. I was close to tears, trying to explain my deafness to him and staring at my bags of vegetables and fruit for FFB's meals. Was this my new reality?

In the end, a lady behind me lifted her mask up and translated for me. The shopkeeper was telling me to take my shopping and come back and pay him another time. When I understood what he was telling me to do, I really did cry. And return a week later, my cash in an envelope so that he could leave it to one side for a time if he wanted to ensure it was safe to open.

So as I was saying, this week, our Tesco delivery came and the lovely driver came bounding up towards the front door chatting away with his trolley of goods - mainly fruit, veg and fish for FFB's meals. I'm trying to get FFB excited about new foods. But right now he's all about the half blueberries and working on his pincer grip.

But I didn't understand a word of what the delivery driver was saying because he had a face mask on. I was so sad because I didn't want to seem rude or disinterested. I wanted him to know how grateful I was for a much-coveted delivery slot. I explained that I was deaf and needed to lipread and he kept talking, which I find people often do - perhaps because they don't want to appear rude by literally shutting up straight away, or perhaps because he didn't quite believe me. I'm not sure...

But it was very winding, solar plexus winding as it hit me...

This is my new reality.

Now, I know in the grand scheme of things, this is really not something anyone else is going to be bothered about. But as I lay awake in bed last night, watching FFB self settle on the monitor, reassured that he didn't need me, I thought back to how hard I've worked to understand the world around me, how long it's taken me to feel comfortable in shops, restaurants, hairdressers, airports and other public places when I can't hear. The little hacks I've created to enable me to get by.

In a post COVID-19 world, that'll all be gone. I'm going to have to create new ways of coping with a masked world, where facial expressions and lip patterns are hidden. It scares me.

A masked world scares me. And right now, there's no way around this.

And it sucks.

However, as it's Deaf Awareness Week this week, I have one request. Do not forget D/deaf people if we live in this new masked world. Keep them in the forefront of your mind as you go through your daily life with your face and lips concealed. And if anyone has any other brilliant inventions to help make it easier for us to navigate the barriers we are facing in what is already a very scary situation, then I am all ears... kinda!

Happy Wednesday peeps!

DG
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Deaf motherhood: baby talk

This month, FFB has learnt that his voice can do more than just yell, giggle, screech and cry. He's learning that he can also make more distinct sounds. And he started with b.

We had two whole days of him concentrating so hard he almost went crosseyed to get his little mouth to form the right shape and then off he went with a flurry of b-b-b-b-bs and bobobobobobos and bubububububs.

He was thrilled. Beaming from ear to ear. He showed off his new skills proudly to Grammoo and Grandude on his nightly FaceTime catch up while he had his tea which resulted in me wearing quite a lot of his dinner as he b-b-b-b-blew it all over me.

First thing in the morning, if popped my hearing aids in and stood outside his door, I could hear his little low husky voice proclaiming 'Bobobobobobobobobobobob' as he wrangled his Jellycat bunnies.

Of course I am thrilled, but if I'm honest, I am also terrified about FFB talking.

I have written about my inability to hear children before, about how I worry if affects my relationships with them, how they naturally gravitate to others instead of me because I'm not able to interact with them as easily.

Now, that's just about dealable with if it's not your child. If you don't take it personally or dwell on it too much. But they idea of my own child gravitating towards others to speak to them instead of me, is less easy to deal with.

I think that's one of the reasons why I am really working on the Baby Sign with FFB. What's more FJM is working on it, too. So FFB has the both of us signing at him, so hopefully he will start to sign back - he already does milk very well. He beams when we sign 'well done' to him. He laughs at the sign for Daddy as it usually gets done with a silly face as well.

One bonus perhaps from my deafness however, is the ability to read body language really well and with FFB it's no different. Tired, hungry, cross, frustrated, angry, sheepish, happy, playful... I am getting better and better at spotting his moods without needing to hear the nuances of the sounds he makes. I know that when he flaps his arms and legs in the highchair at teatime, he's just passed the overtired mark and we need to do Numberblocks and bathtime sharpish to ensure he heads off to a happy peaceful sleep.

I know that when he crawls across the floor and head butts my leg repeatedly, he wants me to sit him up, and then usually shortly after that comes the sign for milk. He also uses that sign for more water at teatime.

When I have bad days - and lockdown is throwing up a whole new world of isolation in what was already quite an isolated world anyway - I have to remind myself of these things. Of the fact that I'm doing OK at this motherhood thing.

As FJM says 'How do you know you're doing OK? Just look at the result!'

And when I look at my happy, bright-eyed little boy crawling at top speed up the corridor, giggling because he knows I'm going to chase him, I know I'm doing alright.

Happy Monday peeps

DG
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Deaf motherhood: baby sleep

I was never going to be one of those people who rushed moving my baby into their own room. The anxiety I had about hearing FFB started long before he was born, and a bedside crib was the only place I wanted him at night for the first 7 months.

As well as being deaf, I am also extremely short sighted. So from the moment FFB was born, I've slept with my glasses on every single night so that my vision will help me hear him. When FJM is away, I also sleep with my hearing aids in.

When FFB was in our room, it worked well. Somehow, his cry was enough to wake me, and if it didn't, then FJM would wake me.

I also bought two different monitors for when he slept in the day - one was a video monitor so that I could watch him and see how he was doing and the other was a vibrating wrist band. This one works less well as it goes off with every sound including what I can only assume are police sirens and noises from outside the building. So I don't use that much.

However, at 7 months, FFB got really mobile and frustrated at the complete lack of space available to him in the little bedside cot and so we took the plunge and moved him into our study/spare room/nursery.

The first night, I'm not going to lie, I was petrified. I kept my hearing aids in and lay awake looking at the screen to check he was OK until eventually I fell asleep from sheer exhaustion. And then I discovered that even with my hearing aids in, his cry was not enough to wake me. In fact, I couldn't even hear him crying when I was awake. The only sign that he was crying was the red bar on the baby monitor - muted because FJM said it created a horrific echo - and his furious little face staring straight at the camera (he learnt fast that we were spying on him through that funny thing attached to his cot).

I was devastated. And slightly worried. Until now, I had been able to jump out of bed and comfort FFB quickly enough that it didn't wake FJM. Now both of us were getting a crap night's sleep and FJM had a tonne of work and long hours each day.

Fast forward two weeks and we are gradually working it out. FFB is learning to self settle a bit more without us there - he has two hard working Jellycat Bunnies who spend much of the night being wrangled left, right and centre around the cot and who need some serious washing machine TLC - but that's a whole other story, and he's learnt that while I might not come straight away, I will come if he needs me but that at 7 months this is a whole lot less than when he was really little.

For reassurance, I got some advice from Calm & Bright Sleep Support to make sure that even though I couldn't hear FFB, I was doing the best thing by him to help him get the best night's sleep. And, after chatting to one of them on Instagram, they're also looking at captioning their stories on Insta - where they offer lots of free advice - to make them more accessible to deaf mums like me.

When I wrote my last blog about deaf motherhood, I had some amazing people get in touch to remind me of the amazing adaptability of children and how FFB would also adapt to having a deaf mother and even at 7 months, he's doing that already.

He's using baby sign language - milk is his favourite - and he's fast learning the sign for 'gentle' as he keeps swiping my glasses from my face. We also sing songs with baby sign included in them as well. The wonderful Ettie Betty Baby Signs' online classes are invaluable and he loves them. And they're definitely keeping me sane during lockdown.

He also has a really low cry - something that FJM swears is because I respond to it whereas I don't hear high-pitched screaming. He comes right up to me when he wants something and he's incredibly expressive with his face. All this might have been exactly how he'd have turned out if he didn't have a deaf ma, and either way, it doesn't matter.

He's amazing. I love him. And I hope that he'll love me, even if I don't always hear him cry.

Happy Wednesday peeps

DG
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Navigating the emotions of deaf motherhood

Today our little family - me, FJM and FFB were meant to be going to the cinema to see a subtitled screaming of Frozen 2.

As you can imagine FJM was not exactly excited about it but one of the many things I love about that man is his complete support when it comes to my deafness and, if something is subtitled, knowing how rare it is, he will always come with me.

I was really looking forward to today's little New Year's Day outing. FFB loves the cinema. The last time I took him, he was captivated by the moving pictures and lights.

We had popcorn, we had hot chocolate, I was excited. I don't take any visit to the cinema for granted.

So imagine my disappointment when the movie started but there were no subtitles.

That sinking feeling. The humiliation of having to walk out of the cinema.

Now, this blog is not about criticising the cinema in question. It was a technical mishap that they could do nothing about. They were lovely about it and I got a full refund, but as I sat in the back of the car beside a very sad FFB, (he was possibly crying because he was hungry) I couldn’t help but join him and let the fat salty tears run down my cheeks.

It wasn't really the disappointment of not being able to see Frozen 2. It was more the realisation and slap in the face of how restricting being deaf is at times. And how, in this case, it had affected not just me, but my family.

And as I sat there feeling more than a little sorry for myself, it began to dawn on me that as FFB gets older, there's going to be so much he will miss out on potentially because of me.

Things like children's theatre. Sure I will always take him and hope he enjoys it, but I won't be able to follow it or talk about it with him afterwards and give him all the benefits an experience like that should offer.

And what about the cinema? If FFB was of cinema going age right now, what would I do? Go along to screenings without subtitles and pretend? Send him and FJM and stay home? Or wait for the random subtitled screenings that come along and force FFB to wait, too.

When I imagined motherhood, I was realistic about many of the challenges I might face. About not being able to hear FFB without my hearing aids, about how I would need to adapt to that. And honestly, I think I am doing pretty well. But what I hadn't accounted for was what he might miss out on because of me...

And this is what I am just discovering. He's got a new playmat, it plays musical songs, I have no idea what they are or what is being sung. I cannot interact with him about this.

He has a xylophone... it's too high for me to hear so in order to play it with him, I have had to make FJM sing the notes an octave or two lower and memorise this pitch so that I am hit the notes and sing with him. But even then I have no idea if I am getting it right.

This month, I am taking him to baby swimming because I want him to grow up confident in the water but I cannot wear my hearing aids for this and I can only hope I will be able to follow what is going on and ensure he gets the best possible experience.

I guess I am just having a new year, new mum wobble made worse by today not working out.

I don't want FFB miss out.

Which, when I've finished eating my feelings in the form of the Butterkisk popcorn I bought especially for the cinema, is why I am even more determined to win the fight in educating cinemas on the importance of subtitling more films. I am even more determined to ask for accessible adjustments wherever I go. Because it's not just about me anymore and whether I am able to enjoy something. It's about my son. And being a good mother to him. And giving me the same opportunities that children with hearing mums have.

First step, to learn all the songs for the local baby music class we're going along to. I am going to email the teacher and ask her for them so that FFB sees me singing along and can follow it too.

And everything else?  I guess it'll be a massive learning curve... which will run concurrently to the normal parenting one.

Happy New Year peeps!

Here’s to an accessibility progressive 2020.

DG

Success for Subtitled Cinema

Today is a very thankful Friday. Why? Because I am able to report on an amazing development in our quest for subtitled cinema.

It's a local one... but it gives me hope that change will eventually come.

So let's start at the beginning shall we?

As you know, I've been helping Deafie Blogger with her fantastic subtitled cinema campaign for a while now.  We've had some progress, which you can read about here. My subtitled cinema tweet went viral which you can read about here. And I even went on Sky News to talk about it, which you can watch here.

If you look very carefully at my appearance on Sky News, you might have noticed that I was in fact, 8 months pregnant. And that means that recently I've had my hands full with the arrival of FFB. He is now three months old and absolutely marvellous.

Anyway, with motherhood now a major feature of my life, I thought that my cinema-going days were behind me for a time so I began to stop tracking what subtitled films were showing in my area.

Since having FFB, I've become part of a wonderful group of women thanks to my NCT classes and we meet up regularly. And when one of them suggested we go to parent and baby movie screamings, my heart sank a little bit as I know that they wouldn't be subtitled. I checked out the website, and they weren't.

So I dropped the cinema an email and asked them whether they would consider subtitling the parent and baby showings because after all, the subtitles might be helpful for the tired hearing parents in the noisy cinema, too.

And guess what? They came straight back to me and said, yes this was something they had considered in the past and that they would put out a survey and if it was largely positive, then they would consider a trial period.

Well guess what? When asked, 90% of people came back in favour of subtitled parent and baby screeenings.

90%

And so, the cinema decided to trial subtitled parent and baby screenings for the whole of December and January. One film a week! Which, when it's only a one-screen cinema is pretty bloody brilliant eh?

And on Wednesday, I went to my first ever subtitled screening with a three month old baby in tow. I went to see Last Christmas and I loved it. It was feel good and Christmassy and I liked the plot twist but mostly I loved that I was doing something that hearing people take for granted. Going to the cinema.

FFB's review of Last Christmas however was mixed. He slept through the first half, ate a bit and then stared at the very pregnant lady behind us for the last bit. But at no point did he scream, which was very reassuring. And the best bit for me is that because I cannot really hear babies crying, the cinema was brilliantly quiet for me regardless of what mayhem was going on around me.

At the end of the film we were handed feedback sheets where you could let the cinema know what you thought of the subtitles and I really hope that most people gave positive feedback. I asked at the box office on the way out and the lovely person there said that largely people said yes they liked them and the people that had said no said they would tolerate them if they knew there was a deaf person in the audience.

Which I will take as a win.

And while this is a very small local win - and only really useful to you if you are a deaf mama in West London, what I find incredibly bolstering is that a cinema was willing to listen and try something. They didn't just say, 'Oh no, we cannot do that as hearing people will complain.' They were open to trying subtitles.

I really hope the trial continues after January but in case if doesn't  I plan to go to as many of the films as possible. I plan to get a small taste of what it's like to be a regular cinema goer. And I plan to make memories with FFB of going to the cinema with him, in case it's something I never really get to do again.

And what was this amazing cinema called?

Watermans Art Centre in Brentford. Despite not being a huge cinema, they also do regular subtitled showings that aren't filled with screaming babies. And they have lots of other great things going on, too.

Go and show them some love on Twitter. Go and let them know that they are wonderful for being willing to give subtitled cinema a go where it's not usually done. Go use their example as a shining beacon of hope of a cinema who asks hearing people if they mind subtitles and finds that 90% have no issue with them.

And then keep telling the big cinemas this information. Keeping telling them that one hearing person complaining has the potential to ruin cinema for an entire country of deaf people. The potential to ruin date nights, social trips with friends and in my case the chance to spend time with the women who really understand what my life is like right now. The women who support me at 3am when FFB thinks it's time to play or when I just need a hug in the middle of the cafe when he's projectiled down me and is screaming the place down.

Watermans gave me the chance to spend time with those women and watch a movie. And for that I will be forever grateful.

Happy Friday peeps and keep the Subtitled Cinema campaign going wherever you are.

Deaf Girly and the things that go beep

Things that go beep fascinate me.

Mainly because I’ve never heard beeps. Not even when I was younger and less deaf.

When I found out I was deaf at 10, beeps and birds singing were two sounds I discovered existed but couldn’t hear. Even with hearing aids - not that I ever wore them back then. After all, 1990s hearing aids were definitely not on my list of favourite things.

Anyway so yes, things go beep. Who knew? Which is why I ask often ask the marvellous hearing and indeed hard of hearing or D/deaf peeps Twitter what goes beep so I can add to my list of things I didn’t know about.

 I’ve discovered hair straighteners go beep when they reach optimum temperature, tube barrier card touch points beep when you place your Oyster card on them, dishwashers and washing machines beep when they finish the wash, cars beep if you get out of them and leave your headlights on, and fire alarms beep when they have a low battery.

Yesterday, my ma came to stay. As I was in the kitchen making tea, she came in to tell me that something was beeping in my flat. And she thought it was a fire alarm sounding that it had low batteries.

I, of course, could not hear it, and my mum, who is also quite deaf, was having a hard time working out which of the three alarms - one smoke, two carbon monoxide - in the flat was the repeat-beep offender.

She stood in the hall and listened as hard as she could before giving up and going to find our lovely neighbour who hearing. Together we all stood in the hall, staring in turn at the three different boxes, with me keeping the other two company as I really had no clue there even was a beep, while every 60 seconds, they struggled to work out where it was coming from.

Eventually they both decided it was the smoke alarm. So off to Sainsbury’s my mum went to buy a new battery, and then we changed it. Hurrah we thought, that’s the end of that until my mum gave a a frustrated scream. The beep was still there.

We searched high and low. I searched the biscuit cupboard and it was basically dinner time by then and I was hungry. We were all stumped.

Until I suddenly remembered that in a box on the shelf by the door was a Nest Smoke Alarm that I’d bought for our old flat and hoped would be a great help to the girl who didn’t hear beeps should the building catch fire. It talks to you instead and also sends you text messages to let you know the building is on fire.

Except if never really worked brilliantly and in the new flat, I’d shoved it in a box and forgotten about it. And there it was, beeping forlornly (allegedly), letting me know it needed new batteries.

Highly embarrassed, my ma and I  thanked my lovely neighbour and she headed back to her flat. And we then pulled all 8(!) of the AA batteries out of the Nest alarm. It stopped beeping. Hurrah!

But it got me thinking about all the things that go beep that I cannot hear and wondering whether companies couldn’t just create a range of beep frequencies to choose from so that there was at least a small chance of trying to hear it.

If I could change the frequency of things that go beep in my flat, I would give them all a low beep, like a sad clown car. Or if I could make them say ‘beep beep’ like FJM does when he’s home and something like the microwave goes off when I’m cooking. Wouldn’t that be aces?

It also got me wondering, if my ma hadn’t been staying, how long the beeping would have gone on for. And when I lived alone for three years, how many things went beep in my flat without me knowing about them.

In the meantime I’m refreshing my usual question of ‘what goes beep?’ as I really am fascinated to know. Head to Twitter and @ me your answers please.

Have a lovely weekend peeps DG x

Deaf Girly does Sky News

This time last week,  I had just experienced my first ever TV appearance. On Sky News. And I loved it.

So how did a deaf anonymous blogger end up on Sky News with her face in full view?

Well, it's because of subtitles and how important they are.

Since I first started my blog way back in 2008, I've been fighting for better subtitles. Back in the day when iPlayer didn't have good ones, and then the iPlayer app didn't have any at all. And cinemas had even less than they have now. And most museums had never considered adding words to their videos.

When there was an opportunity to ask for better accessibility, I have always done so. And I will continue to do so.

More recently this has meant I've been supporting Deafie Blogger with her subtitled cinema petition and campaign. As I wrote in my earlier blog here, we've had meetings and there have been developments but we are nowhere near where we'd like to be yet.

Which is why I put out that tweet, which went viral and had an amazing response from hearing people telling me why they used subtitles. And then The Guardian wrote about it and finally, I got a lovely DM asking me to be on Sky News.

My initial gut reaction response was 'No way! I can't possibly do that.' but then I thought about it for a day and realised that wasn't about whether I could or couldn't do it. I quite simply had to. Face those fears of putting my face out there. Of making an idiot of myself on live TV and just go for it.

So I said 'Yes!'

And so, a car came to collect me and took me to the Sky Studios in West London. I was whisked into make-up where I met Rosie Fletcher - a film critic - who was going to chat alongside me. And as we were saying hello, my phone buzzed. Sky News had tagged me in a tweet saying: "Should cinema subtitles be mandatory? More than 70,000 people have a liked a post by deaf campaigner @DeafGirly who says they change lives."

"Ermagerd, mandatory?! I never said cinema subtitles should be mandatory," I squeaked to FJM who was say beside me. But I guess, if you don't put out something like that, then there's no argument right? And sure enough the anti-subtitles tweets came in thick and fast.

But it gave me just enough time to make sure they I knew what I was going to say in my opening comment on the programme: "Cinema subtitles should not be mandatory - but we should have more."

Going into the Sunrise studio was amazing. We had our microphones clipped on, sat in our chairs and met the lovely presenters - Stephen and Gillian. They immediately put me at ease and before I knew it the cameras were rolling and Stephen had asked me a question.

If you watch my body language and can hear my voice in that opening sentence from me, you will notice how utterly terrified I was, but somehow I took a deep breath and kept going. And I hope I got my point across OK.

Here's the full interview recorded from my rents' TV with pretty shonky subtitles... I am working on getting a better version as well.

 I also hope that things like this continue to raise the importance of subtitles. Be it closed or open. Be it on devices or on screen. The more people we get thinking about subtitles, the more chance there is that we'll get more of them in more places.

If you want to support our quest for more subtitles at the cinema, there's Deafie Blogger's petition and more about it both on my blog... and on Deafie Blogger's website.

Want to know when there are subtitled film screenings on near you? Head over to Your Local Cinema to find out. Attend them, show the cinemas there is a demand for them. And next time you're at your local cinema, don't forget to tell them you'd like more subtitled showings. 

Happy Friday peeps and thanks as ever for all your support.

DG
x

Deaf Girly and the viral tweet

Back in May, during Deaf Awareness Week, I put out the following tweet:

and then went to lunch with ma and thought very little about it, until part of the way through eating my cheese and ham crepe, my phone started going stark raving mad and the tweet took off.

At first it was mainly my followers who were commenting and showing their support of subtitles but gradually, as the evening and indeed weeks that followed wore on, people from all over the world retweeted and commented on my little tweet and shared the reasons why they used subtitles.

And the majority did not use subtitles because they were D/deaf.

Then the tweet really took off - and two months later, it's still being liked and shared... and the stats speak for themselves.

People love subtitles

The responses will stay with me forever. Most of them positive. Some of them made me emotional. Some of them made me laugh out loud. But an awful lot just had me nodding my head and feeling like I'd found a group of people and a voice that said 'Subtitles are not a problem for me. I use them and like them and would happily see more of them.'

I had people who relied on them because English was their second language, people who had noisy kids and needed subtitles to follow the TV over the racket. I had people who were noisy eaters and couldn't hear and eat at the same time. People who had ADHD and auditory processing disorders who said subtitles were a lifeline. And people with ADHD who said the exact opposite. And one girl who liked subtitles coz she was often too stoned to follow Netflix otherwise...

I also had people who said they weren't massive fans of subtitles at the cinema but would tolerate them if it meant that people like me could go more.

Basically the overwhelming sentiment from the 70,000+ people who retweeted or liked my tweet was positive. Subtitles need to be normalised.

Normalising subtitles at UK Cinemas

For me, one of the most important places to start is UK cinemas. You see, at present the number of subtitled showings at UK cinemas are very small. My local cinema for example shows close to 800 movies a week and only 2 or 3 of those have subtitles and they'll be on a Tuesday or Sunday. Some cinemas show no subtitled movies.

Deafie Blogger has long been campaigning for more subtitles in UK cinemas and I've been helping out a bit. We've had some meetings with the lovely peeps at the UK Cinema Association - who have an excellent selection of biscuits I might add - and representatives from the big chains. 

We put forward our case for more subtitles and they went away to see what they could do. And the result was a very small increase in subtitled movies being shown at some of the larger cinemas as a trial.

But as I tried to access these extra showings, I soon realised that I don't live in an area where I can really benefit from this and even then the increase is so small, it's hardly noticeable. And the thing is, unless these showings are well attended, we run the risk of the cinemas assuming there is no demand and reducing the showings again.

I do understand that cinemas are businesses and they have targets and wotnot, but I still feel like there has to be a better solution than a tiny increase of showings in a select amount of cinemas.

Proving there is a demand for subtitles

As my tweet shows, there is demand for subtitles - not just at the cinema but across video media - YouTube, streaming, Instagram, Twitter... the list goes on. 

What there isn't - especially in the case of UK cinema - is awareness. Many hearing people do not know that subtitled movie showings are even an option available to them. And many deaf people have given up even looking at what movies are subtitled anymore as they are never at a good time and there are so few showings.

We've hit something of an impasse.

One of the other things that became overwhelmingly apparent from the responses to my tweet was that open captions are the only really viable solution. Many Americans told me that while they used closed captioned devices in the USA for the cinema, these were often unreliable, unavailable, out of sync, not working properly, distracting as in a completely different place to the screen, and just not the solution they wanted.

I am scared that this solution will be rolled out in the UK when in fact, we just need to put more subtitles on the big screen and see what happens. 

These showings need to be well advertised to avoid anybody who 'hates' subtitles accidentally attending one and making a complaint. 

Because what is so maddening is that deaf people complain all the time about the lack of subtitles in UK cinemas, about the fact they often don't work or they're in smaller screens so sell out on popular movies and very little changes.

Then, one hearing person complains about accidentally attending a subtitled movie when they could have attended 700 other screenings at that cinema and that's the argument against adding more screenings cemented.

If the response to my tweet is right, I truly believe many people will be more than happy with the increase in subtitled cinema.

But what can we do?

For me, it's about keeping the conversation going, which is why I spoke to The Guardian about the importance of subtitles and why I am still so thrilled when every day my phone pings with notifications that my little tweet is still out there, being interacted with in a very positive way.

It's also about showing UK cinemas that there is a demand. Whether that's asking every hearing person you know to start asking for more subtitled showings, to start attending the subtitled showings that aren't in the middle of the afternoon on a Tuesday when most of us are at work, and to start saying, 'WE WANT SUBTITLES' and joining people like me and Deafie Blogger in trying to make our worlds that little bit more accessible.

You can sign Deafie Blogger's petition for more subtitled cinema here. You can read her latest blogs. And if you haven't already, please like and comment on my little tweet and help propel it through the Twittersphere to gather evidence that subtitles should be available more.

I can't thank those who support our quest for more subtitles - particularly at the cinema - enough. If that's you, then virtual high fives all around. And if that could be you, then thank you in advance.

And keep your eyes peeled for more. Deafie Blogger and I - and the rest of the amazing bunch of people on Twitter campaigning for more accessibility - are not giving up. 

Happy Thursday peeps

DG

xx

Deaf Girly's Deaf Awareness Week wishes

It's Deaf Awareness Week this week - it officially started yesterday but it was a Bank Holiday and I was having a largely tech-free day of wandering around London getting some fresh air.

But here I am today, raring to go.

This year is a little different for me. This year, I've made the decision to collaborate with a brilliant company on something very important - so look out for this content on my Twitter feed throughout coming days.

So there won't be much extra activity on here... but what I will leave you with is my list of Deaf Awareness Week wishes... if I really could have anything!

1 More subtitles... everywhere

It's no secret that Deafie Blogger and I have been working hard behind the scenes to try and get more subtitles at the cinema at better times and more movies - especially new releases. The steps to achieving this are small right now but we hope when the time comes, with the full support of the D/deaf and Hearing community, we'll be able to show that there is a demand for subtitled cinema and that hearing people are willing to attend them, too. We will keep you posted and when we yell 'CHAAAAARGE!' please promise you will, right into your local cinema to show it and us support. And please sign Deafie Blogger's petition if you haven't already.

It's not just the cinema though - I wish for subtitles across all streaming services such as NOWTV and ITV player. I wish for the ability to autocaption videos on Instagram and Twitter, without having to run them through an app first... although I am still mightily impressed by this latest development.

I wish for everyone who needs subtitles to be able to have them - at museums, doctors' surgeries, appointments, conferences, the theatre, talks, in education.

2 More accessibility everywhere

Plain and simple. I wish the world was more accessible for D/deaf people. I want the people in charge of health care, travel, employment, education, all public services - the list goes on - to take some time to look at how they can make all of this easier to access for us. 

Sure most of us have learnt ways to hack the systems - I have FJM who is my ears even from 4,000 miles away, I have apps, I have customer services people on Twitter who I can reach out to, but it still doesn't change the fact that I am currently overpaying on my flat's contents insurance because the only way to negotiate it was on the phone and I couldn't do that and, at that exact moment in time, I didn't have the energy to 'hack the system' and find a way to do it. After all, hearing people don't have to do that. Why should I?

3 More awareness everywhere

A lot of the time I find my life is made difficult not because people are mean but because they simply don't know what the right thing to do is. Many people have never met someone with a hearing loss before and as no one size fits all with deafness, even if they had, chances are what helped that person might not always help me. I have always made it my policy to be as open as possible to helping people understand not just the generic ways of how to make life easier for D/deaf people but also to help them understand the quirks of my own hearing loss and how that means, they cannot group us together under one big label. We are all different.

My wish is that we continue to raise that awareness for people who are less comfortable or able to state their needs, which is why I'm going to be sharing all the deaf awareness tips I find this week on my social channels. There are some brilliant campaigns going on - so don't forget to have a google and check them out.

4 More employment opportunities everywhere

As a deaf person, I can count on one hand the number of times I've missed out on a job because of my deafness. But all three times, weirdly, the people chose to tell me straight out that it was because I was deaf. These jobs were not jobs where hearing was compulsory. But these people had made up their minds - a hearing person would be more efficient. I was out of the running.

The last time this happened, for a crappy little job, at a crappy little company, I took the time to write them a letter explaining why 'THAT WAS NOT ACCEPTABLE' and while I never got a reply, I hope that realising how close they came to a call from my lawyer, has made them approach who they employ slightly differently. In all honesty, probably not.

Right now, I am in an amazing job with the most insanely supportive boss. I have video calls with people from all over the world. I have had colleagues drive to Walmart in the hour before our scheduled call to buy a web cam because their laptop one is playing up. I can honestly say that this company I work for now sees my talent first.

And that's what I wish for everyone. I have no idea how we get there but these are wishes right? And sometimes wishes do come true.

5 More support everywhere

I am pretty lucky that on a personal level and indeed through Twitter and Instagram, I have an amazingly supportive network of people. People who, in the 11 years since I started blogging have been there through some insanely challenging times, picked me up off the floor, carried me for a bit when I've not felt like carrying myself.

Deafness can be incredibly isolating. It can be scary, frustrating, it can affect your mental health. 

I wish that there is more support for anyone who needs it, however they need it. I appreciate it won't be easy, but I will do whatever I can to help. Because, as my friend and campaigner Deafie Blogger says, 'Deaf people can achieve anything they dream of, given the right support.' and she's right!

Happy Deaf Awareness Week peeps. And if I bump into a genie in a lamp, I'll tell him these five wishes. But in the meantime, please know, that I personally will be doing all I can to make them come true.

DG

x

Deaf Girly's five New Year's Resolutions

Happy New Year peeps.

Wow, 2019! That means I am now in the 11th year of blogging here on DeafinitelyGirly.com.

When I started out, it was a bit of a therapy for me. It was a place I could have a rant about things, and when I look back, it's amazing to see how much of what I was ranting about has now changed.

The subtitles on BBC iPlayer are mostly flawless now. Back when I started ranting about iPlayer, they were practically non existent.

I no longer have to make horrifically stressful calls to utility companies or phone providers as much of it can either be sorted via live online chat, Twitter or if absolutely necessary, the NGT app on my phone.

But while all these things are marvelous, now is not the time to be complacent and I'm going into  2019 with a renewed vigour for change. It's not that I haven't been campaigning for it. More just not writing about it on here.

So in no particular order, here are my five missions for 2019 and beyond:

1. Continue the Subtitled Cinema campaign with Deafie Blogger

Last year, Deafie Blogger invited me to join forces with her and Michelle Hedley to try and get more open captioned showings of films in cinemas around the UK. Deafie Blogger had already set up a hugely successful petition by this point - sign if here - and it's already had more than 11,000 signatures.

Her determination saw us have two meetings with the UK Cinema Association, including one with representatives from the big UK cinema chains. And we are hoping that now the conversation channels are open, that we will find some way of increasing the open caption availability at UK cinemas - at more reasonable times. 

And if we manage that, then what we need is your support. To go to as many as possible. To tweet about them, share awareness and get D/deaf people back into the UK cinemas. Currently, that's not that possible seeing as there are only a small number of subtitled films and these are quite often not at 'work-friendly' times.

2. Look into getting new hearing aids

Now, don't get me wrong, I love my hearing aids, but they are now quite old. I've had them for more than six years and in modern technology terms that's quite a long time. The last time I got hearing aids, my life changed dramatically. I got promoted at work - twice - and this gave me the confidence to eventually quit my job and write a book. Which then gave me the confidence to go back and do something on my terms, which turned into an even better opportunity, which then meant when a fantastically mind-blowing challenging role came up, I thought 'Yep, I'm going after that!' and I got it. 

These hearing aids have enhanced my world in a way I never thought was possible. After spending my entire twenties not wearing hearing aids, my thirties were a revelation. But let's be clear... putting on hearing aids is not like putting on glasses. They don't make the world perfect. But they make it a lot more understandable. And if there's new hearing aids out there that could do even more, then I want to try them.

3. Sort out my book

Four years ago, I wrote a book. And then, as new job opportunities came along, I put it to one side to focus on building my career. It's still there at the side, but this is the year I am going to do what needs to be done to sort it out. You see, I've had some amazing advice on it. And it's advice I agree about. I just need to make time to prioritise sitting down and starting the edits, the rewrites, the plot changes and structure - NOT MUCH THEN - and perhaps my deaf romantic fiction character will make it beyond my laptop screen. The good news is, that no one has said my writing is crap. Just that the structure needs work. So that's something!

4. Catch up with new technology

Just as I want to see what new technology is out there in terms of hearing aids, I also think I am due for a refresher on what amazing technology is out there in general for D/deaf people. From apps for my phone to things around the home, I'm going on a mission to get up-to-date on deaf tech and make my life easier. Please let me know what you recommend via Twitter or email.

5. Blog more

Yep, 2019 is the year that I am going to reconnect with DeafinitelyGirly.com. Not the daily blogs I did when I first started out 11 years ago, but perhaps four a month to keep you up to date on the things I am passionate about. In the last two years, while I was off getting married and living abroad, I've kind of lost the time to write about what's going on in the world of Deaf Girly, which is a shame, because so much of it was new challenges and discoveries for me as a deaf person. So there will be a retrospective series, while I bring you up to date. And it'll give me a chance to tell you about the time I...

Happy New Year peeps

DG

xx

Subtitled Cinema: Daydreaming of a better deaf world

Sometimes, just sometimes, I allow myself the chance to daydream about all the things on my deaf wishlist coming true...

It's a bit like when you daydream about what you'd do if you won the lottery, only better but sadly less likely.

Top of my list is getting accessible cinema for all D/deaf people. That means something that ticks boxes for as many deaf people as possible. Not just the boxes of 'reasonable adjustments'.

So yesterday, I sat there daydreaming about what it would be like to be able to go and see any movie I liked, whenever I liked. I imagined impulsive evenings with friends, last minute dates with FJM, being up-to-date on the office chit chat when they talked about the latest film or awards nominations. I imagined all the snacks I would buy - coz let's face it, for me, it's all about the snacks.

And then, I remembered that it was Monday evening, the day before Tuesday, which is, in Vue's own words, 'One of the preferred days for deaf people to go to the cinema' so there might be movie on that following evening that London Aunt and I could spontaneously go to as we already had a date in the diary.

Imagine my joy when I discovered that the chosen subtitled movie at Vue Westfield White City was First Man - the movie about Neil Armstrong and his journey to the Moon. As a massive space geek - I am one of those people with the ISS app who stands outside hopefully in orange-skied London trying to spot it whizzing over - I was SO excited! It was on at 20:45 too, which would give us enough time to grab a drink and bite to eat first.

I texted London Aunt excitedly and then hit 'book tickets'. And guess what?There were no tickets available. Why? Well, that Vue only puts its subtitled showings on in the smallest 40-person cinemas... so naturally, when it's a film's opening week, these are going to sell out.

As one of my Twitter peeps said, half the seats were probably booked by hearing peeps who didn't notice the 'ST' by the listing and would probably wonder what the heck was going on when they realised they were at a read-along screening. I really hope that those people don't walk out.

What's more, there are 99 non subtitled showings of First Man at Vue Westfield White City this week... that's 99 that hearing poeple can go to. In the bigger screens.

The sad thing is that this Vue is renowned for only putting on one subtitled showing of each movie it has. So that was my chance to see First Man... and because it's sold out, my chance has gone.

When I tweeted about this last night, the support was incredible. Not just from my fellow D/deaf peeps, who totally get my frustration, but from hearing peeps, too:

Hearing peeps who would like subtitles because they can't hear mumbling actors (Do actors mumble? I can't hear even the ones who don't!).

Hearing peeps who have hard-of-hearing friends and would like to go to the cinema with them.

Hearing peeps who don't mind either way if every single film at the cinema was subtitled.

Hearing peeps who have partners whose first languages are not English and could do with subtitles to help them understand.

Hearing peeps who didn't even know that subtitled cinema existed because guess what? Cinema's hide it away like it's some dirty secret.

Hearing peeps who hear our cause and support it wholeheartedly.

Deafie Blogger and I had a great meeting with the UK Cinema Association during which they promised to open up the conversations between us and the cinema chains who insist that there is no market, that subtitled showings are not financially viable, that deaf people prefer going to the cinema on Sunday and Tuesdays, which is why there are only showings then, who insist that there's nothing wrong with putting the only subtitled showings on in the middle of the day during the working week.

And I welcome those conversations. Because right now, we have no choice, and it feels a bit like we have no voice. We are stating our case to people who are already converted and then it's falling on the deaf ears of those who really need to listen - except guess what? They're not deaf.

If you want to know what it's like to be deaf - at least my deaf - then remove choice from your life. Remove choice. Remove security. Remove access. And then spend every day fighting to get that choice back.

Remove it all and that's what it's like.

Sure, there are ways around it. And sure it's not the worst thing that can happen to someone. But it's happening. And it's exhausting.

I am exhausted of trying to explain why I am fighting for simple choices and changes that would enhance not just my deaf life but everyone else's, too.

UK cinemas please listen to us. Stop hiding subtitled screenings away like they're some dirty secret. Like you're ashamed. And support a community of people who really need you.

And if you'd like to help, then please sign Deafie Blogger's petition, here.

Big thanks and Happy Tuesday peeps

DGx

Deaf Girly and subitled Mamma Mia: Here we go again

Regular readers and my followers on Twitter will know that recently I've been talking a lot about the lack of subtitled showings available at UK cinemas.

And I am not alone in my rage or my quest to change this. But we are hitting brick walls.

Anyway, last night, I finally got to watch Mamma Mia 2 with subtitles at the cinema – Vue only provide subtitled movies on Tuesday and Sunday because apparently according to Vue, 'Our research showed deaf people prefer those days', which to me translates as

'The other days are important moneymakers for our hearing customers so we don't want to jeopardise this by showing films with subtitles.'

Of course, I might be wrong – but I have no way of confirming this, because Vue won't speak to us or offer any transparency on the issues around subtitles. And you see, for me most conflicts occur because of a miscommunication between two parties. So far our conflict is that Vue won't communicate with us at all.

But where was I?

Ah yes, dosed up to the eyeballs on Lemsip due to a sore throat bug I've had since Saturday and because I couldn't miss this only subtitled showing of this movie local to me, I headed to the cinema to watch Mamma Mia. I've learnt the hard way not to buy snacks at the cinema anymore – the number of times I have had to dump open nachos or popcorn because the subtitles have failed – so I had a bag of home snacks and rather reluctant (because Mamma Mia really isn't his thing) but super supportive FJM in tow.

He laughed at my excitement as we took our seats and we scoffed our Maltesers before the trailers had finished. Then, as the opening credits rolled, he squeezed my hand – an amazing acknowledgement of how special cinema trips are for the both of us.

And then, the subtitles didn't work.

At first I wondered whether it was simply that they weren't going to subtitle the singing but then the speaking happened and still no subtitles. And so calmly and quietly, I put down my chocolate-covered raisins and walked out of the cinema to find someone to ask what the fresh merry hell was going on.

I quickly found a manager who in all fairness dropped everything to sort the issue out. While I was there, a girl in her early twenties who was also wearing hearing aids, came out of the cinema and asked the same question as me.

'This happens all the time!' I said to her.

'Does it?' she asked, 'I hardly ever go to the cinema as there are so few subtitled shows!'

And we stood there rolling our eyes at the whole stupidity of the situation.

Eventually the guy came back and said he'd sorted it, but the lovely girl I was with hadn't followed. He didn't clock this, so I let her know and we walked back to the cinema.

'I am so glad you were with me,' she said as we waved goodbye to head up separate aisles. 'I would have been so nervous to do that on my own.'

'It was my pleasure' was my reply and I meant it.

But as I sat down I realised that while now, I will boldly assert my right to things when they are not right and ask for things and vocalise my needs, 15 years ago I would have also been nervous.

I wanted to give that girl a massive hug and tell her that she should never be nervous and that I will ALWAYS fight for her, me and any other deaf person who needs fighting for.

As I sat back down and the movie re-started with subtitles, I grinned at FJM as he mouthed 'I am so proud of you!' at me.

And I was proud of me, too.

But I am not there yet. Together with Deafie Blogger and a few other amazing people, we are trying to get to the bottom of the whole subtitled cinema conundrum. While we have theories about the lack of subtitles, we want to hear from the cinemas themselves and get transparent truthful answers about why they think it's OK to tick the accessibility boxes in pencil rather than with a flourish of pink Sharpie pen.

Why by showing one or two crappy movies a week at completely inappropriate times of day – Deaf people have jobs, you know – they feel they are doing enough for us.

I just want to understand.

When the world is made accessible to me as a deaf person, it gives it a third dimension. It gives it colour, vibrancy, and makes it such a nicer place to be.

Yesterday, walking out of the cinema with FJM, so full from all the snacks, eyes puffy from all the emotion – MAMMA MIA 2 IS THE MOST AMAZING MOVIE – I was walking on a cloud of happiness.

I'd had a date night with my husband at the cinema. It was wonderful. It was different to just watching Netflix at home. It means that I can now talk to my colleagues and friends about how brilliant Mamma Mia 2 is. It's helped me feel more included and happier.

That's what subtitled cinema gives me. Not just access to the latest movies, but a third dimension to my life.

And if that's not worth fighting for, I don't know what is.

Want to help us fight? Sign Deafie Blogger's petition here and tweet your hopes, wishes and frustration about subtitled cinema using the hashtag #subtitled cinema.

Deaf Girly: Finding the good in my deafness

Most regular readers of this blog will know that I'm pretty comfortable with my deafness in the workplace these days.

I've got a job I love, where I am fully supported by amazing colleagues and my manager. I am pretty comfortable about talking about my deafness, too. Demystifying it. Putting it out there. Challenging people to think about what it's like for me. And I've had amazingly positive responses.

All these things are incredible. 

But...

One of the toughest things is that I cannot overcome the exhaustion. And the frustration of how much better I think I could be if I wasn't deaf.

So let's start with the exhaustion. It's hard to explain this kind of tiredness. After listening on a call for one hour and trying to lipread, I feel like someone has dunked my brain in treacle, put it on a spin cycle and then demanded it run 100 metres in a straight line. My arms are like lead weights. My eyes hurt. Speaking feels like I've had a tongue transplant. Tears are so dangerously close to the surface of my eyes that they could sprout at any second.

I cannot work out how to stop this tiredness. The exhaustion of my brain trying to piece together the few sounds I can hear and make intelligible sentences. My brain is fit. But even this is sometimes a marathon too far.

The thing is also, I want to be on these calls. They are fascinating, full of good chat, information, insight and I know that I can often add value to them. If I can just get through the exhaustion.

And then there's the frustration.

I know the cause of my exhaustion is my deafness. Ands this makes me so frustrated. Except logically, the cause of the exhaustion isn't my deafness. It's the listening.

The other day, I had to turn my camera off and mute the speaker to have a little cry not because I was upset, but because I was frustrated and cross. 

This job is so utterly perfect for me. It's an amazing balance of pure geekery and creativity. It uses all my core skills yet pushes me out of my comfort zone. I am learning every day. I mean, jobs like these don't come along very often, do they?

But just sometimes, I allow myself to sit and think about how much better I could be if I wasn't deaf...

And then I berate myself for thinking like this because this is exactly the discrimination I have spent a lot of my working life fighting. And if I'm thinking it myself, how am I meant to stop other people thinking it?

So last night I sat down and wrote down all the things that make me great at my job. Instead of thinking about the floundering conference calls or the exhaustion, I focussed on the amazing relationships I have built around the world, of the creative work out there that I've been part of, of the ideas I have that change how we do things.

The list was good. It far outweighed the 'You're deaf' list. And actually if I am honest, a lot of my strengths can somehow be related back to my deafness. 

For example, I am a massive self-teaching geek. Why? Because I never really heard at school. If I wanted to learn something, I had to sit down and teach myself. So now, when it comes to learning new things, I think I have strong advantage. My teacher is there, ready and waiting – in the part of my brain that doesn't get exhausted.

And I guess that's what I am thankful for. Deafness can be challenging, emotionally exhausting and downright frustrating at times, but it truly has made me me.

If I wasn't deaf, would I be so bloody determined to get where I want to go? Would I be so observant of body language and be able to read conversations as they are happening and spot the people who are unhappy or have feedback they can't express on projects? Would I take everything for granted?

I honestly don't know.

When I think back to the me, before I knew I was deaf, I was a different character. Before I went really deaf, I definitely didn't try as hard at things. I did indeed take success for granted.

So yeah, on this Thankful Friday, I am thankful for the fact that there are some amazingly good things about my deafness. And if you think about them long enough, they will always outweigh the bad.

Happy Friday peeps

DG

Celebrating the 4th of July

Apart from my own wedding back in December, one of the best weddings I have ever been to happened 20 years ago today, in London.

It was the summer I finished my A-levels. I was 17 and had travelled down to London a few days earlier to hang out with London Aunt and London Uncle. It was amazing weather like this, too. I remember because I had this stripy skater dress that I wore with my DC trainers and thought I was so cool.

I wasn't.

I was incredibly honoured to play the flute at that wedding - during the signing of the register. It was one of the last times I played my flute in public. Apart from my recital performance exam. Even then, I'd modified some of the notes to ensure I didn't miss them and sound like I was blowing into thin air.

I wore this amazing maxi dress from East. Pink silk with a floral print. I still have that dress and thanks to the 90s fashion revival occurring right now, it may well get another outing this summer!

That day taught me a lot about relationships and also weddings. It taught me that you can be best friends with the person you marry, that you don't have to invite a long list of extended family to watch you say I do, but that your friends will willingly cross continents to see you.

It taught me that it's incredibly hard to keep a straight face when one of the guests decides their wedding present is to sing a song, in a restaurant, after lunch, in front of everyone. And it also taught me that I really don't like cigars.

And so, every year on this day, I raise a glass to two of my favourite people and their amazing wedding.

Twenty years... feels like yesterday.

5 Deaf Girly Life Hacks for Deaf Awareness Week

Deafness throws many things at me but one of the most noticable things is the ability to make me feel ALL the emotions possible in the space of about a minute.

Happy, Sad, Frustrated, Angry, Embarrassed, Shy, Empowered, Upset, Hysterical, Exhausted, Inspired, Creative

But how do I deal with them all? Aside from medicating with copious amounts of chocolate?

Here are my deaf life hacks:

1. Streamline your shopping 

I am not a massive fan of trying to interact in shops. There was the time I replied no to the 'Would you like a bag' question four times only to discover the shop assistant had been asking me to 'Enter my pin'. It was not a fun experience.

So now, when I go shopping, I use contactless, I take my own bags, and I use the self-service checkouts whenever possible. For things like shoes, where you have to try on things while looking at your feet, often with a hovering shop assistant, I buy them online.

2. Streamline your correspondence

I never, ever, ever, ever answer my phone. FACT. Every single place I am registered at - from banking to healthcare to education to work - has my email address. Also, I have voicemail so if it really is important - like the time I won a competition and they rang to let me know - they can tell me there. 

And did you know, that you can text voicemail files to other people so they can listen. Something I do when on the rare occasion I actually get one. FJM is an excellent secretary! *beams

3. Streamline your life admin

I am a bit of a tech geek, but it's mainly because technology makes my life so much easier as a deaf person. I have all the various table booking apps for restaurants, not just in London but wherever I am in the world. I have Uber for taxis. 

I have online booking set up for GP surgery, my bank manager has me on his email contact list, my hairdresser - well haha, actually I once tried to call him using the NGT Lite typetalk app and he hung up. He doesn't really do alternative technology. And so FJM calls him for me! But gradually, over the years, fewer and fewer things need me to use the phone, or hear. It's awesome. And the NGT Lite typetalk app - it really is very useful. If you haven't tried it already, do.

4. Streamline your social life

No, I don't mean cancel your plans and cut people out of your life. But consider what really makes you happy. I spent a lot of my twenties in clubs not hearing anyone and having a largely terrible time. There were amazing nights out in among those moments, but a lot of the time I found it really tough. Until I sat down and worked out what made those nights amazing and started to focus on that. For me, that's smaller groups, quieter restaurants and bars, one-to-one dinners, captioned theatre or movies. 

Also, I accepted that being deaf is bloody tiring. Proper lie-down-on-the-floor tiring. And so I started to edit the amount of socialising I did in order to make time to get my energy levels back up. And there's nowt wrong with that. I learnt to let go of FOMO and focussed on things that made me happy, rather than the things I thought I should be doing.

5. Streamline your sound

Earlier this week, I tweeted about the fact that I can hear next door's Nutribullet but I can't hear a fire engine that is about to run me over. So many of you came back with 'I knowwwww....' and your own tales of what makes your hearing random or unique. 

One of the best things I've learnt to do is say, 'I am having a quiet day' and taking my hearing aids out. Sometimes it's nice to slip back into that 2D world where everything is just muted and well, quiet. Other days, I whack on my hearing aids and crank up the volume and go out there and explore my 3D world in all its glory. 

And then, there's the different settings on my aids - the sound recover for cats meowing in low voices, the T-loop for focussed sound on one thing without background noise, the music setting with sound recover off in order to safeguard the pitch of the instruments I can hear. Of course, I will never hear sirens or birds singing but it's my world. And I love it. But for me, the empowering thing is choosing when I have each world. 

What life hacks have you discovered to make your deaf life easier?

DG

x

Deaf Girly and education

It's Day Three of Deaf Awareness week. Gosh that's going fast isn't it?

I couldn't talk about all things deafness without covering education - but I warn you that this isn't the most positive subject for me. It's not something I find it easy to write about in my usual jovial manner. However, it turns out it's rather topical at the moment because apparently one third of councils in England are cutting a total of £4 million from their budgets for deaf children’s education.

That's £4,000,000

You can read more about what the NDCS have to say about this here but I have to say this genuinely terrifies me.

I can chart my hearing getting worse solely through how difficult I began to find school. In nursery before anyone knew I was deaf, I was always being told off for not knowing the words to the songs, because at that age I had not yet learnt to lipread, and the only way you learnt the songs was by hearing what the teacher was singing. But compared to now, my hearing probably wasn't that bad.

The primary years...

At primary school, I was always in trouble for not listening. Except I honestly thought I was listening. I honestly didn't know that you were meant to hear everything. I didn't really know any different.

From the age of seven I played the violin. As I progressed up the higher registers, I genuinely didn't realise you were meant to be able to hear it still. I thought it was guess work.

At seven years old, I remember that I could still take notes from a TV programme... something one of my teachers was very fond of making us do. But by 10, I was struggling with this. And at that same time, my rents got a TV at home and noticed me struggling to follow that, too. And then I was told I was deaf.

I remember getting these massive NHS hearing aids. I was at a private school at the time and so there was no additional support. And actually, even if there had have been, I am not sure I would have allowed it to be given. I was pretty cross about being told I was deaf. It was my world as I had always known it. And so my hearing aids sat in my school bag and I continued to muddle through.

Deafness is an invisible disability. For my teachers, they soon forgot that I was deaf and went back to teaching me how they always had. Deaf children in mainstream schools must not be forgotten.

Once I knew I was deaf, things I'd always struggled with suddenly had an explanation. French listening for example - I discovered that the hard part wasn't meant to be the listening. Dictation it turned out wasn't a creative writing exercise... and sport... wow, there was a whistle I was meant to hear!

The secondary years...

Once I went to a local secondary school, assistance was offered. I had a council lady come in and 'statement' me. I was horrid to her. But on reflection, I honestly don't think she was a very nice person either. But she did fight to get me support and I had a radio aid for lessons, which gave me zero clarity and massive headache.

Hearing aids back then didn't give me anything like what my current ones give me today. My world became louder and more uncomfortable. I got no more clarity of speech and no 3D hearing. Unsurprisingly, I rarely wore them.

Getting deafer...

During the summer of my GCSEs, my teachers, my rents and I all noticed that my hearing had taken a bit of a nose dive. I noticed because remarkably, one of the ways I used to revise, from year 7 to 9, was by recording all my notes on cassette tape and listening to them as I went to sleep at night. It was a brilliant revision plan and I was mostly in the top 5 for all subjects.

In Year 10, this plan began to fail. I got 3 out of 23 for a physics test and was so upset by this I cried until I threw up in the science lap sink - I was not used to failing. But not only was I not hearing my own revision notes on tape, I was no longer hearing in class.

School for me began to feel like a free fall of insecurity. I stopped knowing what was going on. I stopped being 'clever' and started to struggle. Worse still, I also started to get very short sighted and in the weeks it took me to notice this, I had no way of seeing the board or lipreading either!

Gosh, school was fun.

Getting the support I needed...

After my GCSEs, which were OK but not brilliant results, my rents pushed hard to get me more support from the local authorities and along came my wonderful note taker. She was a retired secretary and she basically ended up with a stroppy tired teenager and a LOT of A-levels as my school insisted that you took four.

She was amazing. She took wonderful notes. She kept me in the loop when I fell asleep and tried to get me through that first intensive term of Year 12. But I was struggling.

In the end, it was decided, because helpfully I was a year ahead of myself at school and only 15 when I started A-levels (I did warn you I was a super geek), that instead of doing four A-levels in two years that I would do three A-levels in two and one extra A-level in a year. And so that is what I did.

No time would be lost and I would still go to uni at the right age so I could hastily pursue my dream career. That was all I wanted to do. Head to London and write.

But really, my A-levels were not about learning stuff, they were about me learning how to teach myself stuff. I would sit in the lessons struggling to hear and then go home and have to read and learn all the notes my note taker took.

But without the class discussion or context to back it up.

It was hideous.

...but doing badly anyway

My results at the end of the first two years were neatly alphabetical:

CDE

I think I actually stopped breathing when I opened my envelope. Devastation didn't really cover it.

And then in my third year, I retook the D and sat another and turned them into CCCE... turns out the E for RE was as good as it was ever going to get.

School made me feel like the biggest failure. And I had support. I had a note taker and permission to fall asleep in class - something I regularly did.

Why support for deaf children is important

I do not even want to imagine what it would have been like without any support. Or if I had gone deafer at a younger age. I cannot imagine what it will be like for future generations of children who do not get the support they need - whatever that support is.

As I write this today, I am doing a job I love in a big global company. I have ticked some pretty big career boxes, accomplished some things I am incredibly proud of and fought plenty of deaf battles along the way.

Deaf children are not stupid. Deaf children - whatever level of deafness they have from the very mild to the profound - deserve the same opportunities as their hearing peers in education. They deserve access to the same resources, the same standard of teaching and the funding to ensure they have the technology to support them in their studies. No deaf child should be allowed to fall through the gap. No deaf child should have to sit in a classroom with no idea what is going on, feeling a lump in their throat as they realise they are lost. I used to regularly feel like this and when I watched The Silent Child with the final school scenes of complete isolation in a school environment, my heart broke.

Support however you can...

I understand that cuts need to be made and pots of money are not unlimited but the idea that my education could have been even more challenging...the idea that without the support I had, I would not be doing this job that I love, makes me feel physically sick. What's more, according to this Guardian report, there are only 45,000 deaf children in the UK. Why is it not possible to provide support for them?

So this Deaf Awareness Week, look out for articles relating to cuts to deaf children's education, get involved in the discussion, find out how you can help fight for their futures. I'm going to.

Happy Wednesday peeps

DG