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By Stephen Roldan | For The Olympian
Two years ago my trout opener started with a thud. I tossed nearly all of my arsenal that morning without a strike. Chugging around in my float tube, I noticed that even the Power Bait guys were getting shut out. Frustrated, and ready to break my rod over my head, I stopped and thought,
"I need something different from the crowd."
Suddenly, I remembered a method that knocked them dead in similar conditions. Within minutes, trout had to make reservations to get on my line. As I battled oversized trout, boat after boat passed with craning necks to glimpse at the magical lure.
Finally, one pulled up and I was offered cash for extras of my hot lure. I made a tidy profit and gave my eager converts their lures. Astonishingly, one person in the boat eyeballed the acquisitions and grumbled, "Those things don't work on trout!"
Despite his ongoing rants, my franchisees were soon doing brisk business while he continued to get skunked. Later, we compared our heavy stringers of fish and swapped fishing yarns. The stubborn fellow, who finished the day with no trout, gruffly insisted we had gotten lucky.
Professionally, I've noticed a similarity in the attitudes of many who are becoming hard of hearing or late deafened. An increasing number, especially aging baby boomers, are in denial about hearing loss and want vain solutions over practical ones.
This parallels the ridiculous and hypocritical unsaid expectations of society that everyone, disabled or not, be perfect. For every fault or blemish, there's an auto-correction ready to fix it and the silent expectation of universal compliance. Botox, Rogaine, hair dyes, bodily additions or subtractions and plastic surgery are but a few symptoms of our increasingly superficial society.
Complicating matters are the persistent stigmas associated with hearing loss. While hearing loss is a serious condition, few mention the alternatives and accommodations available. This has profoundly affected how hearing disabilities are viewed and, more importantly, how folks chose to address their hearing loss. Often fearful of being labeled, they say, "I don't want anyone to know."
The need to fit in has created a greedy marketing effort to profit from the 28 million Americans with hearing loss.
You've probably seen the commercials that brag about the newest and tiniest hearing aids. Although most will find greater benefits from a bigger and more powerful hearing aid, many gravitate to the smallest option in order to hide their hearing loss. It's sad when someone purchases a wimpy hearing aid and finds they are woefully un-accommodated and unable to make any substantial gains.
Those with hearing loss face difficult decisions to overcome society induced barriers. The psychological and social effects of hearing loss are tremendous and for some are overwhelming. Perhaps someone you know and love is facing a similar situation? Please do, pun intended, lend a listening ear and encourage them to find a solution that works best for them.
Without a leap of faith, those with hearing loss risk becoming like my acquaintance from the trout opener who refused to change his ways. For many, it's time to change the approach or go home without a fish.
Stephen Roldan, a member of The Olympian's Diversity Panel, is statewide coordinator of deaf services for the Division of Vocational Rehabilitation. He can be reached at roldasj@dshs.wa.gov.
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