Les Enfants du Silence

I was thirty years old before my hearing impairment was diagnosed. The elementary school hearing tests never caught it because they concentrated on the low and high tones. I have what is called a cookie bite; a fairly rare impairment that affects the mid range tones—spoken words. That diagnosis changed my whole perception. No longer was I inattentive or lazy, but I actually had been working doubly hard at compensating for what was missing. 

I had developed coping skills, I didn’t know I was developing. One of the more paradoxical ones was that people said I was a good listener. Little did they know (or I) that listening to someone face to face was the only way to receive correct and complete information. I had missed out on so much by not receiving help sooner, but I can’t be too discouraged because I gained valuable skills. Good and bad, it has shaped who I am and how I navigate my way through the world.

I watched  Les enfants du silence through two filters; one, of a hearing impaired person and the other as a mom. The movie was affective from both perspectives. The childrens' eyes, as they scanned the room for information they could use, and the feeling of isolation were very well captured by the camera work. 

The freeze frames, bits of conversation and narration held my attention and directed me to where the film wanted me to focus. The music and silence added even more poignancy. Les enfants du silence was ultimately a call to action and for a mom who can feel guilty without the prodding of a documentary, the message was received loud and clear.