Deaf in a hearing world
Breaking down barrieres to communication
Posted: February 1, 2013
focus
Feta Fernsler doesn’t hear the knock on the doorframe of his office on the campus of the Virginia School for the Deaf and Blind in Staunton.
As Outreach Specialist for the Deaf and Hard of Hearing Services Center, Fernsler helps hearing-impaired individuals the Shenandoah Valley access communicative technology.
He’s one of the estimated 40 million Americans dealing with deafness, in a culture that places much power in sound — a sense, he says, that becomes “not that important” when people are forced to live without it.
Galen Lehman, professor and department chair of Eastern Mennonite University’s Psychology Department, experiences a world without sound from the outside looking in: growing up with a deaf sister, communicating with family fluently in sign language and later translating those personal ties to voluntary service into a deaf school in Kingston, Jamaica.
Lehman also serves on the school board for Maranatha School for the Deaf in Jamaica, and works with Virginia Mennonite Missions to help support the needs of deaf students there.
“I am aware of the differences in how deaf persons experience the social world and environment around them that is dominated by communication; interactions that were designed by and for hearing persons,” says Lehman.
“When we lose our hearing, we use our eyes more,” Fernsler says. He is skilled at lip reading, watching eyes, eyebrows and the chin for clues to the conversation’s tone.
Heightened visual observation, says Lehman, can be both an advantage and an anxiety-inducer. Being able to converse at a greater distance than the hearing — such as between cars in traffic or in a very noisy environment — might make those who are sound-dependant envious.
Fernsler pauses to think about his own childhood.
“It’s hard,” he says. “For everybody, it’s different.” He never attended a school for deaf students — though, Lehman adds — that being surrounded by similar peers is one of the healthiest things for a deaf adolescent, especially.
“Everyone knew how to communicate with each other, no problem; they’re happy ... but people like me have to read lips.” And making friends through lip-reading leaves much room for error.
“It makes it hard to make meaningful friends,” he recalls; growing up is awkward enough without communication barriers.
“If you want to ask someone out, you don’t know how to act,” he chuckles. “Or talking to people past, ‘Hi ... bye.’ ”
Technology for the future
When Fernsler’s videophone rings, a small box of buttons and blinking lights flash. The desk lamp also pulsates on and off.
With the help of the DHHSC’s Technology Assistive Program, long-distance communication doesn’t need to be a barrier to social or professional lives. Equipment that can cost hundreds of dollars, such as closed captioned telephones or video phones, is made more affordable through the nonprofit’s state agency outreach services.
Using these devices helps deaf individuals secure and maintain employments, he says. “We help them keep the job longer, and make the job happier.”
Fernsler understands the frustration of looking for employment after college. After graduating from the Rochester Institute of Technology in information technology, he sent 200 applications — and landed one interview.
Because of assumptions that catering to a hearing-impaired employee will be too heavy an investment for companies, being promoted as a deaf person can be difficult.
“They think we can’t do it,” he says. “[Employers] aren’t giving people an opportunity to shine ... they’re not given a chance.”
Advances in technology which -hearing individuals may take for granted, such as text messaging and video chatting, continues to create new opportunities for social interactions for all levels of ability.
“The opportunity to use cellphones with texting and photos has opened a whole new mode of easy communication that was not available to deaf people years ago,” Lehman says.
For more information on deafness-related resources in the area, visit the DHHSC at deafhh.org, or call (540) 416-0099 for voice or videophone assistance.
As Outreach Specialist for the Deaf and Hard of Hearing Services Center, Fernsler helps hearing-impaired individuals the Shenandoah Valley access communicative technology.
He’s one of the estimated 40 million Americans dealing with deafness, in a culture that places much power in sound — a sense, he says, that becomes “not that important” when people are forced to live without it.
Galen Lehman, professor and department chair of Eastern Mennonite University’s Psychology Department, experiences a world without sound from the outside looking in: growing up with a deaf sister, communicating with family fluently in sign language and later translating those personal ties to voluntary service into a deaf school in Kingston, Jamaica.
Lehman also serves on the school board for Maranatha School for the Deaf in Jamaica, and works with Virginia Mennonite Missions to help support the needs of deaf students there.
“I am aware of the differences in how deaf persons experience the social world and environment around them that is dominated by communication; interactions that were designed by and for hearing persons,” says Lehman.
“When we lose our hearing, we use our eyes more,” Fernsler says. He is skilled at lip reading, watching eyes, eyebrows and the chin for clues to the conversation’s tone.
Heightened visual observation, says Lehman, can be both an advantage and an anxiety-inducer. Being able to converse at a greater distance than the hearing — such as between cars in traffic or in a very noisy environment — might make those who are sound-dependant envious.
Fernsler pauses to think about his own childhood.
“It’s hard,” he says. “For everybody, it’s different.” He never attended a school for deaf students — though, Lehman adds — that being surrounded by similar peers is one of the healthiest things for a deaf adolescent, especially.
“Everyone knew how to communicate with each other, no problem; they’re happy ... but people like me have to read lips.” And making friends through lip-reading leaves much room for error.
“It makes it hard to make meaningful friends,” he recalls; growing up is awkward enough without communication barriers.
“If you want to ask someone out, you don’t know how to act,” he chuckles. “Or talking to people past, ‘Hi ... bye.’ ”
Technology for the future
When Fernsler’s videophone rings, a small box of buttons and blinking lights flash. The desk lamp also pulsates on and off.
With the help of the DHHSC’s Technology Assistive Program, long-distance communication doesn’t need to be a barrier to social or professional lives. Equipment that can cost hundreds of dollars, such as closed captioned telephones or video phones, is made more affordable through the nonprofit’s state agency outreach services.
Using these devices helps deaf individuals secure and maintain employments, he says. “We help them keep the job longer, and make the job happier.”
Fernsler understands the frustration of looking for employment after college. After graduating from the Rochester Institute of Technology in information technology, he sent 200 applications — and landed one interview.
Because of assumptions that catering to a hearing-impaired employee will be too heavy an investment for companies, being promoted as a deaf person can be difficult.
“They think we can’t do it,” he says. “[Employers] aren’t giving people an opportunity to shine ... they’re not given a chance.”
Advances in technology which -hearing individuals may take for granted, such as text messaging and video chatting, continues to create new opportunities for social interactions for all levels of ability.
“The opportunity to use cellphones with texting and photos has opened a whole new mode of easy communication that was not available to deaf people years ago,” Lehman says.
For more information on deafness-related resources in the area, visit the DHHSC at deafhh.org, or call (540) 416-0099 for voice or videophone assistance.