(Ch. 55 of my storyblog of my journey into Deafhood…)

Having had to surrender my dreams of a career in music, I now had no direction for my future. My college adviser kept asking me when I was going to declare a major, but I had no clue what I was going to do with my life. When my family or friends would ask me what my plans were, I couldn’t say. It was not so much that I couldn’t come up with ideas. It was that I felt afraid to invest in a dream, not knowing if life would throw me another curve and whisk my dreams away…

My mother is my hero in so many ways. She was set on doing everything she could to make life as normal for me as possible. Recognizing and understanding my fears, Mama hooked me up with a Vocational Rehabilitation Counselor who would help me develop an educational plan that would hopefully lead me to gainful employment. In the meantime, Mama got me a part-time job working as a Dietary Aide in the same retirement facility where she was working in as a nurse.

My first job with a hearing loss was to pass out written menus to senior citizen residents, many of whom also had hearing loss. Then I would collect them after they had checked off their food choices. I would deliver the menus to the cooks and then serve the seniors their meals in a large dining hall.

In a short time, I discovered I felt rather comfortable when communicating with these older, hard of hearing adults. They seemed to warm up to me more quickly than to my co-workers. Perhaps it was that I spoke slowly and articulately to them, which aided our communication. I loved that they responded back to me in the same way. I pointed, used gestures, held fingers up when counting and wore my hair pulled back so that these residents could clearly see my facial expressions and lips while speaking.

Being a hearing aid user myself, I empathized with the residents who wore them as well. Dining rooms can be extremely noisy places! We would reach up to our hearing aids and turn the volume down or off when my co-workers and I came out to clear the tables. I tried to be quiet while clearing the dishes, taking care not to be too loud when scraping or stacking plates, or tossing the utensils into a water bin. My co-workers used to tease me for being so “careful.” They would just toss things in the pan with no idea how loud they were.

I had a learning experience while on this job that I’ll never forget. There were about 6 of us Dietary Aides on shift one night. Three of us were standing in one of the kitchen stations waiting for the meals to be done so we could serve them. My co-workers and I would occasionally jabber about our personal lives while waiting. One of the girls asked me how I met my boyfriend, Brent. I loved telling this story, so I began talking expressively about how we met up at Fresno Dome.

While I was talking, the 2 co-workers standing next to me began to giggle uncontrollably. I thought they were enjoying my story, but it turned out, they were laughing at me! Within a few moments, our red-faced supervisor came stomping around the corner, held her finger to her lips and spit out an emphatic, “SHHHHHH!!!” in my face!

I was startled and my co-workers quickly dispersed leaving me there to face the wrath of my boss who was quite angry and embarrassed. Apparently, I had been talking loud enough to be heard over the prayer that was being said by the seniors to bless their evening meal. Gulp!

I was so embarrassed and humiliated that my co-workers did not clue me in or help me be aware of my volume. They stood there cracking up, enjoying the show! I apologized profusely and went right back to my work.

From then on, I realized that I had to be very careful with the volume in my voice. I could never know what was going on around me or how loud I might be. My chatty ways at work virtually ceased from that moment on. I stayed focused on my duties and avoided small talk unless it was directly with the seniors, whom I adored. They were always so respectful.

With that new learning experience etched in my brain, unconsciously, over time, my voice started to become softer when I spoke. I was afraid that I would be too loud once again. My family and friends, even my supervisor, began to tell me I was talking too softly. Now they were telling me to ‘speak up!’

Since that time, I have always struggled with how loud or how soft to be in various situations. When I can, I ask the people I’m with to let me know if I need to speak up or to speak softer by gesturing with their hands or fingers going up or down, or by telling me gently — NOT by yelling at me to “BE QUIET!” or by scaring the wits out of me with an angry, emphatic “SHHHHHH!!!”

Being a Dietary Aide wasn’t what I wanted to do with my life, but it gave me a sense of responsibility and a small paycheck in between college classes. More importantly, it kept me connected to my world and helped bolster confidence in my ability to cope with some communication challenges in the working world.

(Footnote: (Only 2 chapters today.) You have been reading the final chapters in my summer storyblog entitled: My Journey Into Deafhood, which tells of the first recognition of my deafness and waking up to a world of silence, 26 years ago. It also tells of how I grieved, coped, adapted and then thrived as I learned to embrace my Deaf self. Thank you for reading! The final installment will show on August 8th, 2007. More coming soon…)

Posted by LaRonda on Saturday, August 4th, 2007 at 4:40 am.