Second semester I was sitting in a case worker’s office for Disability Services and had to answer the question everyone had asked me by now: “Why did you wait until your senior year?” These same people who had asked me, while they all loved me, didn’t have a physical disability and didn’t understand what it does to your self-esteem. The bullying you endure growing up sticks with you long after, and I learned pretty quickly that when I’m quiet, I don’t draw attention to myself. Not having the attention on you can be a relief when you have a physical disability.Â
In fourth grade it was pretty quickly established that I had hearing loss. My teachers thought I had ADHD because I wasn’t paying attention when in reality I just didn’t hear they had called on me. I had enough hearing loss to warrant hearing aids as a ten year old. Mix hearing aids with glasses and braces- I was the ugly duckling. For years I had a decent group of friends, but I still preferred to play alone. You can’t play physical games as easily on the playground because you’re worried your hearing aids will fall out and you’ll lose them. I turned to reading a lot.Â
Eventually I despised my hearing loss because it was so obvious whenever I didn’t wear my hearing aids (it’s still wicked obvious but I wear them now). I would avoid wearing them at all costs so that I felt the same as everyone else. The same was true in high school- if I didn’t wear them I wasn’t different, right? By not wearing them, the only people who knew I had hearing loss/ hearing aids were those I chose to tell instead of all the brats in my elementary classes. Even in dating, my hearing loss was the butt of jokes. Now when people bring up my hearing loss/hearing aids in front of other people I get pissed off; it’s my secret to tell after all.Â
Senior year of college came and my second semester I had four out of five professors with accents. I struggled with deciding whether or not to go to UMass Disability Services. If I go, they would tell my professors and I felt like I would never be looked at the same. I would be so smart…for someone with hearing loss. I wouldn’t be just “smart” anymore. Hermione Granger was smart but everyone knew she was a “Mudblood”, as if she wasn’t a full person. I was afraid that the note taker would know the notes were for me, as if they would give the notes to me after class in front of everyone, and then everyone would know.
Eventually the need to get a note taker won, and I went to Disability Services. They asked the dreaded question and I had to give my answer: “I wanted to feel like I could do it on my own, but I can’t.” Admitting that punched me in the gut. I raised myself to get so defensive over my hearing loss and ability to work for myself, that asking for help felt out of the question.Â
I’ve had a note taker for a little over a month now and my grades have drastically improved– from B’s and C’s to almost straight A’s. Now I wish I had sought out help sooner and learned to look over my walls. That is what motivated me to write this article. I want so many other people to read this and understand that they shouldn’t have to suffer with what they’re dealing with to the extent that their grades and futures suffer. Asking for help can be hard; it can remind you of all the times you were the butt of a joke from elementary school brats, significant others or even friends, but you have to realize that your needs come first. I wish I had gone to Disability Services as soon as I came to UMass but I hadn’t. However, now every day I feel much freer knowing that I can still study the material without trying to hear, synthesize, take the notes, and keep up all in the same class.Â
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