Brendan Dyke--Holy Cross

When life gave me a hearing impairment, I tackled it my way.

I was born with the most common neurological disease: hearing loss. I miss words and sometimes sentences. It turns out, I carry the Connexin 26 gene. Both my parents carry this recessive gene, so there was a 25% chance their children would get it too. My older brother and I got lucky. 

During high school summer football practice, I was lined up as a receiver. My quarterback signaled a hike, and I ran the wrong route. My coach said, “How could you mess that up? It's not a hearing thing. Come on, Brendan.”

My coach’s comment made me angry. I felt belittled. Just because I have the gene, I don’t want to be treated differently. I’ve adapted to being at a slight disadvantage. I have learned how to read lips, so I “hear” what people are discussing across the lunchroom. I choose to sit at the front of the class, because if I can’t hear, my mind wanders. In big assemblies, I place my cell phone on the stage near the speaker and the Bluetooth microphone streams directly into my hearing aids. There is no way I’d missed what the QB called. 

I thought about emailing Coach right away to say, “If you really believe that my hearing loss affects my abilities, I’ll quit the team.” But, I didn’t want to quit. And as angry as I was, I also didn’t want to disrespect my coach. I’d already had one full year with this coach and knew he was strict. He shouts at the freshmen when they forget a play even though they may not see the field for two years. It’s his way of motivating us, making us better players and people. He’s not mean. I know this, but his comment still irritated me.

When I got home, I called my older sister for advice. She said, “If you send him a scathing email, you’ll be a permanent benchwarmer.” I am just as capable as someone with perfect hearing. I wanted Coach to know that too.

I opened my computer and banged out an email. I drafted, deleted, and re-drafted to find the most respectful way to stand my ground.

Coach Jake, 

I didn’t appreciate what you said today (about my hearing). Sometimes I may mess up, but I never use my hearing as an excuse.

-Brendan

The next day at practice, the coaches discussed the plays, we watched films, and our team was dismissed. As I was walking out, my coach called my name. 

He said, “I saw your email. I’m sorry I offended you.” He thought I misunderstood the play because of the helmet. I told him I’d just messed up the footwork. But, the more we spoke, the more I realized maybe I didn’t hear the play correctly. When we're in the huddle, I can’t always “hear” well. Sometimes, I just miss the play. We discussed solutions that would help me on the field.

“Maybe we need hand signals,” I said. So, we came up with our own sign language. There was a waving hand gesture that said I needed to mirror the quarterback. The coach formed an ‘O’ with his fingers to indicate a fade. And when I didn’t hear the play, I shrugged my shoulders and lifted both palms in the air. 

I could tell he respected me for speaking up. I was proud of myself for not letting it go. I needed to be seen as equal and capable. After our meeting, I was inspired to take on a more impactful role on the team. If I could feel stronger by speaking up, then so could others. And that could make us even better. 

We ended the regular season 9-0. I got to play a ton and am excited about this coming season. I’m grateful I listened to my sister, because my spot on the bench is likely to be cold all season.