What I Learned in Drumming Class (From a Friend With Vision Loss)

By Pat Dobbs

I decided to join a drumming class! So much fun—and hearing loss isn’t a big issue as it’s all about rhythm—not melody. 

There’s a young woman in the class who is blind in one eye and legally blind in the other eye. (Blind means no vision and legally blind means 20/200 vision or less.) Her name is Dana. We usually sit next to each other. I’ve been watching her and am fascinated by the similarities and differences between our challenges. 

My friend from drumming class has a vision loss. I’ve been watching her and am fascinated by the similarities and differences between vision loss and hearing loss. 

The obvious difference is that she can’t see the teacher demonstrating drumming patterns but can hear it. I on the other hand can see the drumming patterns but may be challenged hearing it. In addition, since there’s several conversations going on at the same time, it’s often hard to follow the conversations while Dana has no problem. 

There are ways that our physical needs seem to align well. For example, both of us need well-lit areas. She needs that to see where she’s going. For me, a well-lit room makes it easier to lipread (speechread) if I can’t hear clearly what people are saying.   

We both need to use our brain’s processing power more than those with typical hearing or sight. If the lighting is poor or the room is crowded, Dana must be very focused on what she’s doing or else she’ll bump into things. For me, when there’s a lot of ambient noise I too have to be very focused to understand what people are saying.  

Bottom line is we both expend more energy than the average person to see or hear.

The more time I spend with Dana, the more impressed I am with her. She’s a wonderful person but what impresses me is that her vision impairment doesn’t hold her back. She lives alone, she’s a successful massage therapist, and she’s in a committed relationship with a partner who happens to be sighted. She uses a white cane to get around on foot. For longer distances, she depends on friends to give her rides and on New Jersey’s not-the-best public transportation systems, using Access Link. 

The other day Dana made me laugh when she told me people often say to her, “Oh, Dana! You can’t be blind. You’re too pretty!” How many times have people said to me, “Oh, Patsie! You don’t have a hearing loss! You don’t look like the type!”   

Pat (left) and Dana.

Excuse me, but what does a person with vision or hearing loss look like? One thing I can say for sure is that neither vision nor hearing loss discriminates. All ages, religions, ethnicities, and income levels are affected.

Dana says that all too often when she goes to a public venue and lets them know she’s blind, they give her a wheelchair. Hello? There are also a few mongrels out there who even ask her if she can have sex. Let us leave that one there. 

Anything like this ever happened to you? 

As many of you know, I’ve been challenged coming to terms with my hearing loss. For years I always wore my hair in such a way that my hearing aids were hidden. In addition, I pretended to understand what people said when I didn’t. I call that bluffing. And I certainly didn’t want to be associated with other people with hearing loss, like the Hearing Loss Association of America or Say What Club (both groups where I am now active).

Dana has faced the same sort of challenges. For a good part of her life she didn’t want to have anything to do with other people with vision loss, as if “vision loss” were a dirty word. It’s only recently that she’s joined vision loss groups.

Both of us admit to the burden of feeling “less than.” We both struggle, or at least have struggled, with feeling like we’re not whole, complete people. We both found it a long and difficult road to come to terms with our disabilities. We were both, at least to some extent, willing to let these disabilities define our lives, and in the process make those lives less meaningful, less entertaining, less joyful. What a waste!

It’s been enlightening to see the similarities Dana and I share, despite the differences in our abilities and our ages. It’s encouraging to see someone at her young age who has learned how to advocate for herself. Good for you, Dana! 

Pat Dobbs started to lose her hearing when she was 20 and today is the happy recipient of cochlear implants. Through most of her life she bought into the stigma of hearing loss until finally she came to terms with it. She launched the Hearing Loss Association of America (HLAA) Morris County Chapter in New Jersey, serving as president. She also attended Gallaudet University’s two-year peer mentoring program. Inspired by this program, she designed and facilitated a series of workshops on managing hearing loss, and began a coaching practice focusing on the unique personal, career, and relationship challenges unique to people with hearing loss. Dobbs is the president of SayWhatClub, a global online hearing loss support group and a new resident of Deer Isle, Maine. For more, see Hearing Loss Evolution, at hearinglossevolution.com.

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