Pool Parties

I loved/hated pool parties as a kid. I was always the only one who didn’t have to worry about swimmer’s ear! But really, I loved being outside and in the pool doing handstands or underwater tea parties or whatever. Unfortunately, water proof hearing aids are just now starting to become a real thing. So I just took mine off and jumped in.

I hated the games. Which, if you’ve never been to a pool party, is 90% of the party. Just to be clear, I absolutely love games. But let’s think about common pool games: Sharks and Minnows, Colors, Marco Polo. And what do these all have in common? Talking and listening.

I was always “it” in Marco Polo, because I couldn’t hear the “Marcos”. I stayed “it” because I definitely couldn’t hear the “Polos” and couldn’t tell where anybody was. (I am also a very slow swimmer, but that has nothing to do with hearing loss. Just poor athletic ability.) I didn’t need to be great at the game to feel included. Closing your eyes and calling for your friends, then only getting silence in return. It made me feel alone, even at a party.

Colors was another crowd pleaser. That was a lot harder to cheat at, so I liked it even less. Marco Polo you can at least open your eyes underwater. You’re standing on the diving board facing away from the pool yelling out different colors, waiting for someone to swim across. And of course, how do you know if someone swam across? By listening for the splashes. For people who didn’t understand, I probably looked crazy. With everyone being super still and quiet in the pool, I kept turning around when literally no one moved. I turned around so often because I was so desperate not to be “it” anymore.

As an adult looking back I can’t help but think how silly it is, it was just games. But that’s how children bond and get along. That’s how we made friends. Playing games brings inclusion and pushes away isolation. I always felt isolated at these parties. Unless I was right next to the person talking, I couldn’t have a conversation. If someone was facing the other direction, I couldn’t hear a thing they were saying.

My only options were to keep pretending, or get out of the pool. How long can you pretend to be part of the crowd, to hear? Growing up, I never noticed I was different, until I noticed. No kid wants to be reminded that they’re set apart from their peers. It didn’t matter how included or loved I felt on the daily. Even at the best parties, I still felt so alone.