Embracing my hearing loss in a hearing world

Matthew Argame
Hearing Accessibility Project
4 min readOct 30, 2017
Receiving the Voice of Mental Health Award at the JED Foundation’s Annual Gala

When my elementary school teachers got around to asking me questions, I would usually respond in two ways: I would either not answer the question until it was repeated a second or third time, or I would answer what seemed to be an entirely different question. Some of my teachers would get upset at me because they thought I was ignoring them or trying to be a “smart aleck”, but it was my third-grade teacher who thought I had a hearing issue. In time, my audiologist would soon discover that I did in fact have mild to moderate bilateral sensorineural hearing loss.

I did not really know what this meant as a little kid. After all, this newly discovered hearing loss has been my “normal” since I was a child. But I learned early on that not everyone’s “normal” is the same, and this caused people to become frustrated with me at times. I began to understand why my peers or teachers would treat me differently. The more I realized that I was being treated differently for something I could not change, the more depressed I became. When I received my first pair of hearing aids in third-grade, I thought things would get better, but I was wrong. I still remember when a student flicked my ears which knocked off my hearing aids. After that incident, I decided never to wear them again — I wore my hearing aids for no longer than a month. My parents wanted me to continue to use them, so when my dad drove me to school, I would wear them, but as soon as I got on campus, I would take them off. To me, the bulky piece of plastic running from behind my ear to in my ear canal was a target for me to get bullied. I remember thinking to myself, “I never needed hearing aids anyway. I’ll be fine without them.”

I kept my hearing loss a secret in junior high and throughout most of high school. But after I graduated from high school, I felt defeated sometimes because the same types of communication issues would arise. I thought hearing loss and the subsequent communication struggles was something I could fix on my own. I participated in poetry competitions and joined theatre as a way to practice my annunciation, articulation, and projection skills. I even started a Speech and Debate Team at my high school to improve my speech. I was casted in lead roles in my high school productions, made it to the state level competitions for Speech and Debate tournaments, and won numerous poetry competitions. But I still felt something was missing. I wanted to overcome my adversity, but I did not want to admit that I had a disability.

My freshman year of college, I began doing more research on the effects hearing loss can have on brain development. Feelings of isolation, depression, and anxiety were commonly cited. Unaddressed hearing loss can even accelerate brain atrophy and the likelihood of getting dementia. I was not shocked when I read this research because I could see myself heading in that direction. So, I decided to do something about my situation and sought help from people in an audiology clinic, Disabled Students Services, and Department of Rehabilitation. Collectively, they helped me get a new pair of hearing aids.

When I was a college student choosing my hearing aids, I wanted to get the Completely-in-Canal (CIC) hearing aids because they were discrete — I did not want others to see me as the “target” I once was in elementary school. At the same time, I realized that hiding my disability is perpetuating the very stigma that kept me from wearing hearing aids in the first place. Eventually, I decided to get the Behind-the-Ear (BTE) hearing aids which are more visible than the CIC. This decision was meaningful to me because it meant that I was at ease with my past and the struggles I went through. It meant that I have done my research and decided that this is something I needed. It meant that I am no longer held back by the stigma related to hearing loss or having a disability. In essence, it meant that I am okay with who I am.

I felt like a new person when I began wearing my new hearing aids; I felt more confident in my ability to succeed in school, I felt like my personal relationships improved because I was easily able to talk with them, and I could see an improvement in my overall mental and physical wellbeing. And I want this for others who may be struggling with hearing loss. Hearing loss can feel like a very isolating condition, but I learned over the years that it does not have to. With being open about my hearing loss, I met others who had similar experiences. Forming this community has made the healing process much easier because I felt supported and understood, which is precisely the goal of the Hearing Accessibility Project.

Now, I am using my personal experiences and research to empower others who think they have hearing loss or who are part of the Hard-of-Hearing community. I am also working to become a physician-scientist who will advance research on hearing loss, brain development, and mental health, and serve the Deaf and Hard-of-Hearing community.

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Matthew Argame
Hearing Accessibility Project

Matthew Argame is currently a graduate student at Columbia University, pursuing a Master of Science in Narrative Medicine.