Fired as a Writer

Ever since I was a kid, I wanted to be a writer.

I dreamed of being the next Erma Bombeck — funny, poignant, and memorable.

In high school, I figured the best way to earn money as a writer was to become a reporter. I thought about how cool it would be to have a byline in the Sun Times or the Chicago Tribune.

There was only one challenge: I was hard of hearing. Most of my understanding of speech came through lip reading. Since 40 to 60 percent of words look exactly alike on the lips (think “mat” vs. “bat”) my understanding of speech was sometimes way off. Top it off with people who moved while they talked — my lipreading skills dropped to zero.

My first assignment in my Journalism class was to cover the high school volleyball game. I sat in the gym watching the ball going back and forth, but I couldn’t understand the announcements. All I wrote on my reporter’s pad was the score of the game.

When I attempted to interview the coach after the game, he spoke so fast that I understood absolutely nothing. He was clearly impatient and wanted to get out of the gym, so I was reluctant to even ask him to clarify what he said.

I turned in a simple paragraph of a few sentences summarizing the game. The teacher was disappointed.