Hollie shares her experiences growing up with her dad who is deafblind.

Sight and Hearing loss is more common than you think: Let’s talk about it…

We thought he was a spy. My father could move like a cat. despite his size, despite his disability he moved as if stealth were bred into him. My brother and I used to say that deafblindness was his cover, he was actually a secret agent using the disability to mask the truth: he was an James Bond-esque super spy with the skill to silently enter any room at just the right moment to catch villains and children in the act of committing nefarious deeds!

At home, you would be hard pushed to believe that he is deafblind. He walks with confidence, he knows the path, has the place mapped out in his mind. It isn’t until an unexpected object or an unwary wandering dog enters the equation that things become obvious. We learned very quickly not to leave things lying around. To pick up and move a pair of shoes kicked off carelessly in the middle of the floor, a toy discarded underfoot. We learned to move whatever might prove to be a trip hazard without consciously recognising that we were constantly risk assessing the spaces around us.

Dad has mastered the art of tripping it almost seems to be an art form. He can recover from a misstep in such a way that when you witness it happening your brain can’t quite compute what it has seen. You may suddenly wonder why you started thinking about John Cleese and his Ministry of Silly Walks, but the man’s graceful recovery will leave you almost positive that he didn’t stumble, didn’t catch his foot on the curb, didn’t miss the fact that there was one more step.

It is amazing how people can move around in their own world without thinking twice about others. The socialite walking towards you staring at their phone, the old lady in the supermarket plodding slowly across your path, the child careering around in a fantasy world. We step around them, we let the old lady pass, we avoid stepping on the adventuring child. We see them. We hear them and we react. It is not a selfish instinct that drives the old lady when she gives the big hairy deafblind man a dirty look when he accidentally backs into her stepping back from the shelf. It is not lack of consideration that sends the child bouncing off the shins of the giant as he walks down the street. It’s the assumption that the giant will react.

We don’t talk much about it. We don’t really have to. Sometimes he will say things, matter of fact, honest things that at some time I know he must have agonised over, must have brooded on and cursed his fate and fortune. I know I would have. I remember hearing dad give a demonstration at a school I was volunteering in. He said something I will never forget: “One of the most difficult days I faced was the day I looked up at the night sky and realised I couldn’t see the stars anymore.” Now when I marvel at the beauty of the night sky I have to breathe past the sadness that wells up in me when I remember a tiny girl sitting with her daddy and learning the position of Orion’s belt.  When he says these things, there is no sense of brooding, unfairness or bitterness. Only acceptance.

I have never met anyone like my father. His ability to overcome any hardship, his quiet strength and sheer bloody minded stubbornness to play the hand he has been dealt. To carry on through adversity and carry others through the storm, guide people facing similar darkness, show them that there is a way through, there is light and warmth to be found if you know how to find it. He is incredible. My father is my role model, an inspiration and a wonderful human being. He may have taken my arm for a guide down the road but his example, his inspiration has guided me through life.

Today we share a blog post written by Deafblind UK – A Deafblind Archer’s Story.

John was born deaf and started loosing his sight when he was 19 after being diagnosed with Usher Syndrome. This is a disorder that, among other things, causes the progressive degeneration of the retina. Today he is left with very little sight and no hearing. He communicates through ‘hands on BSL’; a form of British Sign Language which involves the listener placing their hands on top of the communicator’s hands to feel the signs.

However, John, from County Antrim in Northern Ireland, doesn’t let his sight and hearing loss hold him back. With the support of an interpreter he has a wide range of hobbies including tandem cycling, cooking and writing poetry!

But perhaps the most impressive of all is John’s love for archery. He discovered the sport seven years ago and has since become a national champion. “I joined the Causeway Archers and they set up a competition for visually impaired people” said John. “Since then, I have placed in many competitions for visually impaired archers including coming second at the British Blind Indoor Archery Championships.” He continued.

Despite John’s huge success as a visually impaired archer, he longed for the opportunity to meet other people with similar conditions to him. So he joined the Deafblind NI social group in Causeway and loves sharing his stories and experiences with other people. The group meets once a month and John has made many new friends, all of whom share an understanding of what it is like to like with sight and hearing loss. John has taken on the role of chairperson in the Causeway group and he has taught other group members deafblind manual to enable them to communicate with him.

“Being part of the Deafblind NI group means I have the chance to talk to people who experience the same everyday challenges that I do. It is comforting to know that I’m not alone and that Deafblind NI is there to support me in other ways if I need. It also gives me the opportunity to take part in activities and experiences that I would not have otherwise done, like the recent reminiscence therapy workshop that we did.” Explained John.

Lee Bolland, Director of Community Services at Deafblind UK said: “John is an inspiration to us all and we are proud to be able to support him in his archery success. We support people to do the things they want to do without being held back by sight and hearing loss. It’s great to see that he’s found ways to get around his disability and, despite having very little sight or hearing, he has done things that many of us could only dream of!”