REU!

This summer I went to a fantastic internship in Washington D.C. at Gallaudet University! My internship was a Research Experience for Undergraduates (REU). For undergrads interested in Science, Technology, Engineering, Math (STEM) subjects, I highly recommend looking at REU’s for any curious student. They are funded by the National Science Foundation (NSF) and cover all areas of research at many universities. REUs are fantastic opportunities to learn and explore different areas of science.

My REU at Gallaudet was called Accessible Communication in Technology (AICT) led by Dr. Raja Kushalnagar, Dr. Christian Vogler, Ms. Linda Kozma-Spytek, and Mr. Norman Williams. There were 15 students on six teams. Each team had two mentors and a graduate assistant. The undergrad population was composed of aspiring audiologists, psychologists, and fellow computer scientists!

My partner and I studied captioning latency specifically in captioned telephones. We wondered how does the delay between the audio of someone speaking and a live captioner keeping up with the speaker affect the understanding by the deaf or hard-of-hearing listener.

Other teams were also working on interesting projects. In no particular order, the projects they worked on are:

• Hearing Assistive Technology and how users use them such as phone apps in restaurants, hearing assistive devices in theaters. 
• Punctuation in captions and how the absence of punctuation or correctness of captions aid or disrupt user’s viewing. 
• Voice assistance devices, testing the feasibility of substituting voice instructions with ASL instructions. Imagine waking up a computer just by signing 'Hey!'
• Captioning interfaces such as how long each line of captions should be and how fast should captions go - they tried to find the Goldilocks zone such that the captions were not too long, not too short, not too slow, and not too fast! 
• Captions in virtual reality and not only added captions to a few virtual videos, but also added indicators to show who was speaking.

For a full scope on each of these projects, visit the AICT website. You can also see past years’ projects too!

I learned so much from working on this REU, but not just about computer science. With this REU, I was living and working at Gallaudet University, https://www.gallaudet.edu. For someone who was mainstreamed like me, it was an awesome chance to see what going to a Deaf University and living in the Deaf World would be like. The rooms were already fitted with flashing fire-alarms and doorbells that flickered the lights. Nearly everyone I ran into signed using American Sign Language (ASL). The fastest ASL I learned was coffee— because I was waking up three hours earlier than normal coming from the west coast to the east coast— the cafeteria lady would ask (sign) what kind of drink I wanted!

I loved the days where I did not have to speak, but still communicated regularly with people. It was freeing. Many people signed and spoke at the same time, especially in mixed company. That’s the level of ASL fluency I aspire to because it’s one thing to learn another language, it’s another to think and communicate simultaneously in two languages!

This REU was an experience. I learned so much beyond the scope of the original REU, expanding my computer knowledge, practicing ASL, and interacting with people from all walks of life with different hearing abilities.

Are you ready for an REU? Go check them out!

Take a Risk!

Originally written March 14, 2019 (Happy Pi Day!)

Take a Risk

Last year, I took a social dance class in college. Not only did I learned waltz, salsa, swing, and tango, but I also learned many life lessons. My teacher, Richard Powers, gives halftime talks to the first social dance class that covers not only lessons for making the most out of dancing, but making the most out of work, career, and life.

One of many things I took to heart from my social dance class is that it is okay to take risks — encouraged even. Taking a risk and trying something new might end in failure, but it can be fun and even lead to something great!

Taking a risk does not mean being careless. All dancing classes have safety suggestions that should not be ignored. For example, it is common sense for partners to make sure they do not run into other dancing couples; it is highly recommended to avoid dislocating or spraining a joint; and communication is vital in any relationship. Without communication — spoken, visual, or touch — any attempt of trying something new will fall flat.

Communicating with a partner can be as simple as saying “Let’s try it!” or really listening to each other’s non-verbal cues, watching for feedback, and learning from past experience. If a partner looks queasy after a double turn, then a triple turn will not make it any better. If a partner is smiling after that leap that did not turn out quite right, then it is okay to try it again. Communication shows when it’s OK to take risks and how far to push the envelope.

It’s always a risk learning something new, whether it is a new move or a completely new dance. Rarely will anyone get it right on the first try. In fact, even though practice makes perfect, it is still possible to mess up even the simplest step. The key  here is getting up and keep dancing. Embrace mistakes as they happen. Repeat them if they make you smile. Change them if you feel if they could be better.

Asking someone to dance is another risk. It can be nerve-wracking to approach an unknown dancer. The worst that can happen is they don’t want to dance. That’s okay - they’re not the only dancer in the room. Otherwise, they say yes and there are two possible outcomes. One, maybe they are more experienced and you’re afraid to be left in the dust. That’s okay. Now you have a chance to make yourself a better dancer by trying to match your partner’s skills, to learn something new. Two, maybe they are less experienced and you feel like you are floundering. That’s okay too. Now you have a chance to flounder, to learn together, and to make something great, — maybe even start a new dance craze. Take a chance! Ask someone new to dance!

My class required us to go out dancing for homework—and this was a challenge for someone socially anxious like me.  My panic attacks always happen at the door to the dance floor. It is the point where I have a choice between dancing and having fun or leaving to try another day. Thoughts that are running through my head start negatively — “I don’t know enough,” “I’ll make a fool out of myself,” or “I’m not dressed for this.” That point at the door is the perfect time to challenge myself to take a risk. I switch gears and change my negative thoughts to “I don’t know enough, but I’ll learn from this experience,” “I’ll make a fool out of myself, but I’ll have fun doing it,” and “I’m not dressed for this, but who cares?” Sometimes it is easier to stop thinking and open that door and wing it. 
          It’s time to take a risk!

An Object I Wish I could Lose - Hearing Aids Of Course!

          A little over a year ago, I took an English story writing class and everyday we had a 5-minute writing prompt where we tried to write as much as we could without overthinking it. One day, my teacher asked us to write about either something we lost that we wish we could find or something we wish we could lose but cannot. There were so many good stories that came out of this, some were completely fictional and some were based on my peers’ lives. 

          The first time through this prompt, I wrote about a sentimental pin I had lost in high school around Christmastime. Then the second time through this prompt, I thought a little bit more about the second half of the prompt. What is an object I wish I could lose?

          The answer hit me like a lightning bolt. It might have come even faster if I had scratched my head and upset my hearing aids’ delicate sensibilities.

          Without further ado, enjoy.

An object you wish you could lose - Hearing aids

          Once the little girl called them party ears because they had glitter and were colorful. Then, she grew up and loathed them. She did not remember calling them party ears anymore. Instead, she called them the worst thing on Earth - hearing aids.

          Hearing aids. When they were on, they screeched and screamed. They tattled on and on, re-echoing sounds the little girl could hear, and inserting new sounds - sounds that the little girl supposedly could not hear. The hearing aids were like gossipers. They heard things, whispered them — more like screamed — to the little girl, added their own little embellishments, a wind here, a screech there, a howl here. The little girl hated these embellishment. She hated the little gossipers behind her ears.

          Every once in a while, the vile hearing aids beeped loudly to say the battery needed to be replaced. As the battery ran closer to being dead, the hearing aids beeped more frequently. The little girl hated how the hearing aids complained about low battery. Why should she care if the hearing aids are dead or not? At least when they were dead, they were quiet. 

          If the battery did not die of its own will, the little girl would turn it off. When the hearing aids were off, blessed silence would reign, but it would be too quiet. The bulky ear molds that went into her ears acted as earplugs when the hearing aids were off. And the ear molds never fit quite right. It felt like the shirt that was just a bit too snug in the armpits, or the tights with the knotty ends tickling the toes in all the wrong places. 

          The little girl cannot take off the dead hearing aids. If she takes off the hearing aids, the teacher will tell her parents and her parents would tell her to wear them. Her parents will say things like “You’ll hear your teachers better. You’ll hear your friends better.” But the teachers just taught from the book. And her ‘friends’ were too loud and never made sense to her anyway. Why should she listen? Why did she need the hearing aids to listen? The little girl listened to her parents. She wore her hearing aids, suffering and counting the minutes, the second for the school bell to ring so she could take them off without reprimand. She still hated the hearing aids.

          Everyday, the little girl wore the hearing aids. Some days, the hearing aids were heavy. It felt like the tube connecting her ear molds to the small chip behind her ears would cut through her ears. It hurt. She wanted to take them off and throw them in a ditch somewhere, never to see them again. The gully behind her house would be the perfect place to dispose of them. If she waited until monsoon season, then the rain will flood the gully and destroy the hearing aids beyond all repairs! She would never see nor wear the hearing aids ever again!

          But that would not make her parents happy.

          Her parents tried to tell her that the hearing aids do not make her different from the other children, they are supposed to help her fit in. The little girl knew she was different. She knew that the hearing aids mark that difference somehow, but why should she try to fit in? Why should the hearing aids help her fit in? She thought she spoke normally. She thought she heard all she needed. She thought the other kids were weird for being so loud and talkative. Being deaf did not matter to the little girl.    
          Only the hearing aids mattered and they were the bane of her existence.

          It would seem that nothing would convince the girl to wear the hearing aids happily. The sounds that came through them were ugly to the girl no matter how much it helped her understand the world and the language around her. Perhaps it was just not meant to be. Perhaps the little girl preferred a life of familiar sounds unfiltered by the hearing aids, not caring about the sounds she did not hear. 
            Except …

            Once, the little girl was walking to the bus stop and it was one of the rare times she wore her hearing aids outside. The bus came early in the morning and the little girl was barely awake. She walked with her eyes closed, knowing the path to the bus by heart. She heard a whistle, a song. It confused her. The little girl had never heard anything like it before. She opened her eyes and looked around. She was alone next to a copse of aspens and pines. She never heard that sound before, even though she spends a lot of time outside. Then, realization struck. The little girl had read about birds chirping and singing. She had read stories that romanticized birdsongs — Atticus, from To Kill a Mockingbird, said it was a sin to kill a mockingbird because it songs were so beautiful — but never before had the little girl heard it before. Never before had she believed it was so beautiful.

          The birdsong redeemed the hearing aids. So while her parents talk, her teachers drone, and her friends yap, the little girl listened to the birdsongs. The hearing aids are still heavy, whiny, clunky inventions of the devil, but they added something beautiful to the girl’s worldview. They opened the gate to the sounds the hearing took for granted, the sounds that people dismiss in a normal setting, but are no less beautiful.

New Look!

Time to give HearChloe a fresh look. Like the new orange?

Blogs coming up: a short story on why I wear hearing aids, and motivational avocado. They'll make sense when I publish it! :)

A Hearing Impaired Dude Walks into a Bar by Edan Armas

I have been writing this blog for 6 years now! I’m amazed it’s been that long!

And now it’s my first time having a guest writer on my blog! Edan Armas is a fellow Stanford Senior, majoring in Human Biology with a Concentration in Neurophenomenology of Emotion. He’s also an amazing writer and has a powerful voice. He grew up in Roselle, IL with hearing aids and part of a big family.

Recently, Edan introduced the Stanford Spoken Word Collective and recited his own poem at the Stanford’s Family Weekend Entertainment Extravaganza! The Entertainment Extravaganza represents a small sample of Stanford’s amazing art groups and artists. Edan literally had the audience eating out of his hands. His poem and voice just blew us all away. It was awesome!

I’m so glad Edan agreed to share his poem with my blog readers, because it really resonated with me. I don't go out to bars often but Edan's experience translates well to most noisy situations. His voice in the poem is an amazing and fresh way of looking at things.

Without further adieu, here is his amazing poem.

A Hearing Impaired Dude Walks into A Bar
so a hearing impaired dude walks into a bar and
is the joke
tonight
as I make my way through the mass of bodies
I know I have a limited number of opportunities
to ask people to repeat themselves before I become other
so I hold my hearing loss in my hands like a drink,
careful not to spill
and grimacing every time I have to take a sip

it is new year’s eve
the air is soaked with music
either Cardi B’s “I Like It” or maybe that one Havana song
but I am too embarrassed to ask which
content instead with bending my body to the muffled bass
as I silently pray for the countdown
because it will be the only set of lyrics I will
be able to shout along with everyone else

the day I turned 21
the bar was supposed to be this quintessential coming of age experience
but instead it was like rediscovering the dentist
because
1) it sucked
and
2) every conversation I had was like pulling teeth
people having to put their mouths so close to my ears
my hearing aids would come away wet with the
condensation of their tequila breath

it is here i realize that all those stories about
meeting the love of your life in a bar
probably never included someone like me
which doesn’t bother me all that much
considering these types of environments
are practically grad schools for able-bodied
frat boys who can’t seem to hear the word “no” anyway

my friends say
“alright so the bar is not your scene”
but here’s the thing
i am hearing impaired like i am latino
mixed, not quite one or the other
where identifying with either is always work
so i want to work on this
crawl into a beer garden and
plant a new story for deafness

i want to walk into the cologne fumes
of The Patio, dap a tech bro and say
tonight, both of us are going to have difficulty enunciating

i want to ask and ask people to repeat themselves
and ask again when i don’t hear it
because i cannot relearn damaged hair cells
but maybe i can rediscover what it’s like to be
unashamed of asking for what i need

and maybe
in the far and distant future
i will work as a bartender in a club
just so i can create a drink called
“WHAT?”
and confuse everybody

but until then i will dance alone
in my corner of the bar
my body owed to nothing
except the sound i create for myself

Pizza == P-Sets?

Here’s what happens when you misread lips! 

Wednesday night and people are gathering in the lobby for the weekly house social. The house social is a low-stress get-together with food and lots of people coming and going. It’s not too noisy because there’s rarely more than 20 people in the lobby at a time. The crowd does get bigger after the organizer sent out a dorm wide blast announcing, “Pizza in the lobby!”

I went downstairs to socialize, even though I was stressing out about all my p-sets — several papers to read and write; two classes were kicking my butt; and it had been a long day and it was not over yet!

Bernie was the first person I ran into. He waved at me, gestured at the pizza, and said, “Hey look! There’s so much pizza!” And indeed there was. There were like 15 boxes!

But that wasn’t what I heard. What I heard was, “Hey, I have too much p-sets!”

Enthusiastically, I responded, “I know! I have so many p-sets too! Two papers due Friday!”

Bernie tilted his head, but went along with it, “Same here. Do you want pizza to help you study?” 

Then my brain clicked. I laughed and explained to him what I thought I heard. Life moved on. It could have been worse. He could have been talking about p-sets and I hear pizza, yet there would be no pizza around! That would have been uber disappointing! I love pizza 🍕😃!

Hearing aids are like underwear!

Hearing aids are like underwear — highly encouraged but not required. They’re good to have, useful, and should be cleaned, but sometimes you want to go commando! Much like bras — though nice to feel supported — going without a bra feels very freeing! To wear or not to wear? 

The most common question I get asked is “Do you wear your hearing aids all the time?” My unfiltered answer is “H - E - double toothpick NO!”

Wearing hearing aids is a personal choice. Some people try hearing aids and decide “Nope, I don’t like hearing aids at all.” Or they might not want to miss a single moment of their day without hearing aids and so they slap on their hearing aids first thing in the morning and it is the last thing to come off at night. Sometimes, it’s just a matter of “What do I feel like today?” My feelings on hearing aids are somewhere in the middle.

I don’t wear my hearing aids when I fall asleep. Hearing aids and water never go well together and that means no hearing aids in or near the shower, the pool, or the ocean.  If I’m reading something, I’ll probably not wear my hearing aids so I can concentrate more. One person I know calls the ability to take his hearing aids out to focus his “super power.”

If I’m taking my dog out for a walk, well I might wear hearing aids … like if I want to hear birds singing or am worried about excessive traffic, I’ll wear hearing aids. Or let’s say there’s been an unprecedented amount of rattlesnakes on a trail, then yeah, I’ll definitely wearing hearing aids! Of course, even with my hearing aids on, I can’t tell a difference between a rattlesnake’s rattle and crickets chirping, but at least I get some advance notice!  But most of the time I don’t really want to wear hearing aids when I walk, because it’s freeing for me.

Hearing aids do help a lot. They amplify some of the missing sounds. They can be very useful, especially in communicating with hearing peers. If I’m talking to someone, I’ll probably wear my hearing aids, but if I’m running and apt to get really, really sweaty, probably not. I wore my hearing aids running one time in TX, and the battery cases got rusty from the excessive humidity.  Remember when I said hearing aids and water do not mix!

I’ll always wear my hearing aids to classes or in situations where I know I will encounter trouble understanding what’s going on. If I’m meeting with friends in the dining hall, I’ll wear hearing aids. If I’m going to the dining hall by myself, wearing hearing aids depends on how I wake up that morning. Will the background noises and clattering trays make me cranky? If yes, then I will not put them in. Especially if it’s a Monday.

Throughout my childhood, my mom was told I should have the hearing aids on during all my waking hours. That might work for some people, but not for me. True, wearing hearing aids during all waking hours probably helped me get use to wearing hearing aids. Background noises, whistling winds, hair brushing against the microphone, can all be annoying sounds. Listening isn’t just about hearing the sounds, but also about focusing on lip movements, facial expressions, filling in the blanks for those sounds my hearing aids can’t amplify enough for me, and mentally converting all these inputs to something intelligible that I can work with. It is exhausting and noise is the biggest energy sucker. Sometimes I like quietude.

As hearing aid technology improves over time, I find myself wearing them more often. I do believe everyone should give hearing aids a chance, but I believe hearing aids are just that, an aid. They are not the be all, end all of listening methods. I use them when I need them. I try to keep them with me so when I do need them, I can put them on. Sometimes I forget to take them with me though and that has caused issues. Other senses help with communication, especially vision.  If I’m not wearing my hearing aids, I be sure to turn up the “volume” on visual cues, such as speech reading and using ASL. To paraphrase Hamlet, “To wear?  Or not to wear?  That is the question.”