Access Starts Before the Event Begins

In the morning, I attended church. My pastor spoke from the ambo using a fixed gooseneck microphone that was positioned a bit too high. Because of that, his voice did not come through very clearly, which forced me to rely on lip-reading and guesswork. Putting in that level of effort to understand the sermon was exhausting and distracting, and it pulled my attention away from the experience. 

What struck me was how easily this barrier to effective communication could have been avoided. No equipment was broken. The systems exited. What was missing was consistent microphone practice and a way for speakers to know, in real time, whether their voice was being picked up effectively. Other parts of the service used head-worn microphones, which tend to provide far more reliable audio. I realized how much access depends on small, upstream decisions that speakers and staff may not even realize they are making.

Another issue came up before service started. The choir leader removed the hymn numbers from the board and never replaced them with the new numbers. For most of the congregation, this probably did not matter. For me, those visual cues are essential for effective communication. I often catch only part of what is announced, and the numbers allow me to find my place and understand how the music connects to the message of the day. Without them, I felt disconnected while others were able to participate with less effort. Barriers like this rarely come from bad intentions, but they expose gaps in awareness and training about how people with hearing loss process information.

Later that day, I went to a movie with some of my friends. A few of us picked up assistive listening receivers at the front desk, and the movie theatre staff assured us that the system was working properly, but there was no way to confirm this ahead of time because there was no audio playing. When the movie began, my receiver was dead silent. I adjusted the controls and quietly asked others if their receivers were working. They seemed to be puzzled as well. This feeling of uncertainty is all too familiar for individuals with hearing loss who often do not know whether the issue is the system, their devices, or their own settings.

Across both my experiences yesterday, access failures felt invisible to everyone else. The equipment and spaces were presented and labeled as accessible, but there was no routine verification or feedback during use. When problems go unnoticed, users (such as myself) disengage from the shared experience.