A friend just sent an email asking for my advice. Subject line? “How do you recognize a smile when you can’t see the face?”
Starting today, May 1, 2020, Illinois residents are required to wear masks in any public situation where we are unable to keep a six-foot distance from others. My friend understands the necessity to wear masks, but it’s all bumming her out. “You know me,” she wrote. “When I’m out doing errands, I amuse myself by trying to amuse others.” What now? How will she know her jokes are funny if she can’t see people smiling?
Under normal circumstances (remember those?!) I can hear a smile in someone’s voice. That skill didn’t come automatically when I lost my sight. They didn’t teach us that at Braille Jail, either. I had to figure it out on my own, and that took time.
I wasn’t blind long before discovering how much I’d relied on lip reading to communicate back when I could see. Lip-reading, and body language, too. You see a person look at you, maybe give you a nod, and start moving their lips? Odds are they are talking to you. Now, sometimes, I don’t have a clue.
Any of you who have been seated on a barstool next to me (remember when we used to do that?) has inevitably witnessed my difficulties in addressing the bartender. I hear one come near, they ask, “Ready for another one?” and I assume they are talking to me. If they’re not, and I respond? Awkward.
Ditto those times when a pharmacist, a bank teller, a post office clerk, a TSA employee, a ticket counter worker (actually, any circumstance where I have to stand in line) calls out, “you’re next.” After inadvertently cutting in line hundreds of times, I finally figured out to point at myself and ask, “Me?” before making a move.
And then there’s the time Mike and I sat down at a bar we didn’t frequent much and I asked a bartender what they had on draft. Little did I know I was sitting smack dab in front of all the beer pulls. The bartender pointed at the pulls (I think) and said, “What are you, blind?”
Good guess.
But back to smiles. When I first started recording essays for NPR, radio pros there encouraged me to smile while talking on the radio. “A smile comes through even when you can’t see the person who is smiling,” they said. “Even if you are saying something that isn’t exactly funny, you should smile: it engages listeners.” After that I started hearing smiles on the radio. (For a good example of a radio announcer who smiles when reading announcements, ask your smartspeaker to “play WBEZ” in the afternoon and listen to our local All Things Considered host Melba Lara — she’s always smiling, and always engaging).
It wasn’t long before I could detect smiles in everyday life, too. When I’m not quite sure? I can always turn to Mike. “Does Emily have a pretty smile?” I might ask. “She always sounds like she’s smiling.”
With many states requiring masks in public now, voices are going to be muffled, lip-reading will be impossible, judging whether people are addressing us is going to be more difficult. So how can my friend know someone is smiling without being able to see their face? With no evidence to the contrary, just picture they are.
Hi Beth! I’ve been having so much trouble with people wearing masks because I can’t hear them with the mask on. Even with my hearing aids turned on high volume, I struggle because I can’t read their lips and see the shape of their mouth to know which sounds I can’t hear. I’m afraid I will be helpless until we don’t need the masks anymore.
So true. For my part-time job moderating the Easterseals National blogI plan on doing a post about how difficult–and isolating– this all is for the deaf community.
I LOVE this post! You taught me a long time ago how you can tell. It’s stuck with me. Talking on the phone with a smile versus no smile is so easy to tell, and the reaction you get is so noticeably different. It’s hard with the masks, but listening to the voice helps,
Yes. Listening is a lost art. Over the weekend I heard an interview with some very smart person who said the one gift we all can give each other in these unsettling time is to give them the gift of our full attention. Sad to think that is so rare these days.
Just reading this brought me back to my early days of working in a business office. We were told to always smile when we answered the phone. They told us the caller would always hear your smile.
Was this when you were at Dupli-Coler?
Beth love your positive perspective on smiling, always assume the best. Thank you. Be well!
Diane Coron Koziel (Illini)
I love the “Illini” at the end of your signature. As if I’d need a “clue” to know who you are. You are unforgettable, Diane.
Nicely done! I heard your smile today without seeing your face;)
See?!
This is one of your best! So relatable, but with your trademark generosity of spirit. Thank you for brightening my Friday!
You are welcome, and what a coincidence: hearing a sensational writer like you say this is one of my “finest” makes My day, too. Thank you, Lauren.
Can you tell you made me smile while reading this refreshing and upbeat post? I had a young Korean roommate once, a visiting scientist from Seoul. Once (a rare occasion) she let me take a photo of her, and she made a “V” (peace sign) with her fingers next to her face. I asked what that means. “We were raised to be modest, not to show our teeth when we smile. This is how I show I want to smile big.” Maybe she was joking, maybe not. But I think I’ll adopt the peace sign next to my face for as long as I wear mask, just in case someone can’t hear my smile.
Maybe I’ll do the same. Peace and love, baby!
Beth, this is great. I’ve learned many things about blindness from reading your blogs, but this one? Well, it brings all of us closer to what you’ve been dealing with for years. I’ve always been impressed that when I run into you on the street you recognize my voice, but more than that, I know that you also recognize that I’m smiling, something I think you already know. So, in response to your beautiful narrative, let me say that I pretty much assume that everyone is smiling. It is not the smile from the lips, but from the joy of being in their company that excites me. I love this post, because I have never doubted that you get it.
You are kind to commend me on knowing you are smiling when you greet me in the neighborhood. Pretty easy to do with someone like you: you are always smiling, Mel!
I always learn something from you Beth. You advice “without evidence to the contrary, just picture they are smiling”…. and I could add, even with evidence to the contrary, just act as if they were smiling. Thank you Beth!
That was beautiful. I will practice listening for smiles on the radio. Well done! Thank you.
You were my inspiration, Susie. Thank you.
Beth, I think late night comedians are on a similar learning curve. Perhaps they could benefit from your insight. I am certain they find a lack of a live audience extremely difficult because I think a comic’s delivery is constantly gauged on his perception of his audience and their reaction. It can fall flat very quickly.
Participating in several classes that have become “Zoom” classes, I’m learning that when you speak into your laptop’s camera that’s a whole different thing than being live. Next week, I’m presenting a discussion with my Osher Washington Week group at Northwestern via Zoom. I’m rethinking how I’ll attempt to interject any humor and personal personality into my talk. I’m unsure how it’ll go. Wish me luck.
In the past couple weeks I’d determined Trevor Noah was much better at this than Steven Colbert, Trevor doesn’t wait for a response from the audience, he just whips into his next joke or statement, Steven has too many pregnant pauses.
Weeks went by before Mike asked if I realized Trevor’s monologue is edited? The reason he can jump from joke to joke is that they are recorded ahead of time and well, “pasted” together?
Ever since then I can hear the edits.
On the occasion I stay up late enough to watch.
Okay, listen.
“What are you, blind?” OMG. I’ll bet he regrets that rude comment. Shame on him. When I was in telephone sales/service for the airlines, they emphasized smiling. Even when people can’t see you, it comes out in your voice.
No shaming necessary — when you’re at a counter or bar like that, the person serving you can’t see your feet. The bartender who said that didn’t see the Seeing Eye dog there. We ended up going to that place fairly regularly (they had live music sometimes) and the anecdote was always fun to share with newcomers.
Yes, we now have another new thing to learn – smile guessing. Hm, actually some of the problems you have overcome are similar to speaking a foreign language you haven’t yet conquered. I have a difficult time, for example when listening to Spanish on the radio, while I have no problem doing the same on TV or speaking to a real person.
Interesting!
Great post, Boris and I always smile when we see you! I also prefer Trevor Noah. I’m looking forward to reading your blog some more!
Great to have you on board! I, too, smile anytime I hear you (or Scott) with your delightful dog — fun to picture Boris in his latest outfit, he’s a trend-setter when it comes to dog fashion..
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