Love Can Be Without Sound, But Not Without Language

“For the first time in my life, I started to imagine what it was like for Gong Gong, living in a world where sounds are not relevant and even the loudest scream sounds like a whisper.”

BY: JINGSHU YAO

Art by Daniel Gomes // THE UNDERGROUND

My family has gotten used to shouting at Gong Gong for the past 40 years. 

According to the tradition of southeast China, children refer to their maternal grandfather as Gong Gong (公公). My Gong Gong has hearing difficulties. It wasn’t congenital since the symptoms only started to show in his late thirties, the reason for which was said to be damaged ear drums. Gong Gong worked as an electrician in a cardboard factory back in the 1970s, and was consistently exposed to loud noises during work. The poor environment might have led to damage to his hearing but in order to support his family, Gong Gong didn’t have the chance to give his declined hearing much attention. In his sixties, he was almost deaf, and even with a hearing aid he could only hear someone if they screamed at the top of their lungs. That was exactly the method my family took to communicate with him.

Many members of my family have the reputation of being loud—not that they’re talkative, they simply speak at a high volume. 

“It’s all because of your Gong Gong’s damn ear,” my grandmother would say. “I have to yell in order for him to understand me all my life.”

She would then go on to blame her uncle, who acted as the matchmaker between my grandparents. Her complaint would slowly decline to incomprehensible mumbles. Gong Gong seemed to be minding his own business, but we always suspected that he could guess what we were talking about. Lifelong hearing difficulties trained him to observe expressions and body language that people with normal hearing ability would usually neglect and thus he’d figure out the content of our secret conversations. He was so used to not being included in conversations, but when he felt the necessity to slip in a sentence or two, we suddenly realized that he was listening without hearing the entire time. Throughout his life, Gong Gong never used the hearing loss as an excuse for underperformance. He still worked hard at his jobs and took good care of his family. Even after retirement, he insisted on taking up the responsibility to do grocery shopping and cook for the rest of us. He has always been a respectful, loving figure in my life that I often overlooked his disabilities. I could never imagine how it was like living in a muted world yet accomplishing the same or even more than hearing person would.

Yelling to communicate with Gong Gong has been normal ever since I can remember. I never thought of any alternative ways. Even though I learned about sign language at school, it was much more of a concept that deviated from real life rather than what I could use to communicate on a daily basis. Since my Gong Gong’s hearing ability was lost later in life, he could speak normally most of the time so everyone assumed he was fine. But when it came to the new words, especially those related to new technologies that weren't available before Gong Gong lost his hearing, it would take him much longer to understand. The words he pronounced wrong, he would go on to pronounce incorrectly for the rest of his life. My family might have bothered to correct him the first few times, but gave up when he still got it wrong. Until today, he still referred to a street beside his house “Ren-de-li” when the name was actually “Neng Ren Li.” 

It wasn’t until I learned about language and the brain in my university courses that I understood the relationship between language acquisition and hearing abilities. Input, interaction, and feedback are the methods that facilitate language learning, and Gong Gong was largely deprived of all these factors. He couldn’t properly hear others speaking so input and interaction were limited. Even though we provided feedback for his mispronunciations, it was inefficient and we didn’t have enough patience to make it work. 

I started to teach myself American Sign Language with the help of online videos, but my Gong Gong is already 85 and lives an ocean away from me. I feel guilty every time I sign out a word following the instructions. I know that even if I introduced sign language to my family at this point, they would think of it as unnecessary. They’ve been fine just yelling to communicate for the past 40 years. Even Gong Gong himself would say that he was too old to learn anything new. 

“I am learning ASL.”

While the opportunity might have been lost for my Gong Gong, there are other people with hearing difficulties who might have a better chance to improve their lives if society increases its awareness of accessibilities issues. 

Nativist linguists believe that language is unique to humans. Other species might have methods of simple communication, but only humans developed such complex language systems. Studies show that deaf and mute infants often have a great desire to communicate and are able to create their own system of signing without any instruction. The deprivation of oral language couldn’t bury their innate ability as human beings. Deaf communities can develop their own sign language system on a local basis, which leads to the difficulties of documenting the number of sign languages used around the world. The number varies between 130 to 300 according to different sources, not to mention the undocumented variations. The number of speakers of each sign language is also poorly recorded. Only 41 countries and territories have legally recognized sign language systems, including Ontario, Alberta, and Manitoba (American Sign Language). However, even in these places, the access to sign languages is often limited within deaf and mute communities. 

“My grandfather has a hearing disability.”

According to the World Health Organization, five percent of the world’s population experience hearing loss. The number is significantly higher in areas with poor medical systems and less advanced technology. These areas tend to have less consideration for the well-being of people with hearing difficulties. Deaf people are  sometimes neglected or even discriminated against. These problems make it more difficult for people with hearing loss to take preventative measures early on and avoid some of the negative impacts deafness has on their lives. Learning sign language is an important measurement among them. Even though many individuals with hearing difficulties are able to live their lives without learning to sign, such as my Gong Gong, they often experience difficulties in communication, especially during unusual times. An article by a deaf lip-reader explains the problems social distancing and face masks have brought to his daily communication. As a result of the communicating disadvantage, they face higher greater challenges during the COVID-19 pandemic. Even without social distancing, obstacles such as a noisy background, being far away from the speaker, or even winter wear that partly blocks the speaker’s face can all lead to communication inefficiency. 

As a hearing person, I always thought that languages without sounds are difficult. Yet after I slowly learned each word and phrase, I realized that they are very straightforward. Most content words are signed by imitating real-life actions, and many functional words are left out to ensure communication efficiency. Following the completely silent online tutorial with minimized amount of written instructions, every piece of information was contained in gestures and facial expressions. 

For the first time in my life, I started to imagine what it was like for Gong Gong, living in a world where sounds are not relevant and even the loudest scream sounds like a whisper. However, whenever I called home, I could only wave to him from the tiny screen and show him thumbs-up to let him know that I am fine. I wanted to tell him that my flight was cancelled and I won’t be able to go home even though I miss him. I wanted to tell him to take care during this special time. I realized that with our communication barrier, I’ve never told him that I love him. Nor am I sure that, after 40 years of hearing difficulties, he would still recognize the word by reading my lips, or even when I shout it out at the top of my lungs.

“I am a learner. If you sign slowly, I can understand.”

Now I know the sign for love. Crossed arms in front of my chest, as if giving a remote hug. I hope Gong Gong will one day understand.