From time to time I receive questions about my deafness. Things like if Iw as born deaf, how I lost my hearing and how it effects my life and performacnes. I don't mind these questions for I'd rather be asked then to have someone keep wondering. So this page is an attempt to answer some of these questions by sharing the story of how my hearing difference came about and my experineces with it. I hope you find it informative as well as entertaining.

By the time I was in kindergarten, I was almost completely deaf. My family had noticed a slur in my speech and I was also pronouncing things incorrectly. Doctors found this was due, in part, to a build up of fluids in my ears. In the first grade, I had my tonsils removed and had tubes put in my ears to correct this problem. This helped drain the fluids from my ear and gave me the ability to hear. 

I can still remember being wheeled out of the operating room in a half conscious state. I was left waiting in a hallway with my parents. We knew right away that my hearing was restored when a nurse dropped a tray and I sat up wide-awake yelling, "What was that?" Never before in my life had a sound caused me to jump. It was very exciting for all of us, but at the same time very scary to me.

Later that day, I was lying in my hospital room eating all the ice cream they would give me, when I noticed a loud humming sound. I asked my parents what it was and they said they didn't hear anything. It became a mystery to me as to what the sound was. I was actually scared to think that I was hearing something and no one else seemed to hear it. After a while we finally figured out that the humming sound was the air conditioning in the room. To me this was a loud and annoying sound, to everyone else it was a sound that is pretty much always there and ignored.

Over the next couple of years I continued to think that I now had "Super Hearing". I discovered small sounds that I never even knew existed. Simple things like the swiping of the windshield wipers in the car, the ticking of the turning signals, and the crunch of biting into potato chips fascinated me. I even remember yelling for my mother to come to the bathroom to hear me pee in the toilet. I didn't know it made a sound and I finally found out why my parents always woke up when I went to the bathroom in the middle of the night. After that time, I quickly learned to use the side of the bowl.

It wasn't until the 4th grade that I learned that my hearing was far from "Super Hearing". In fact I was actually very hearing impaired, but because I was still learning a new world of sounds, no one knew. The school was giving all the students a basic hearing test. I'm sure everyone has had them at some point. They place headphones on you and ask you to raise your hand when you hear the sound. I was very confident in myself when they placed the headphones on me. My confidence soon dissipated when I learned that the other children could hear sounds that I couldn't. I was crushed.       I'm sure you can imagine the self-esteem loss at this news. Suddenly I went from the boy with "Super Hearing" to the boy with a hearing problem.

It was kind of strange that until that time, I wasn't aware of the things I couldn't hear, but after that I started noticing a lot of things I had missed before. My parents sent me to a hearing specialist and I soon got my first set of hearing aids. They also sent someone to my school to teach me lip reading. That was a strange process. The teacher spends the hour saying things to me but making no sound with her voice. My job was to repeat what she was saying. At first she would say simple words. Then I moved into sentences. Then eventually she would read a whole short story and I had to give an outline of that story.

Looking back, I now realize that my hearing difference seemed a burden at the time. In many ways it actually encouraged me to accomplish things that I may not have if I didn't have that difference. I constantly strived to make others see me as someone "Normal". I refused to let them put me in any special education classes like they usually did for people with a disability of this kind. Not that I'm against that, I know a lot of people need those classes, I just didn't want anything to make me seem different or "broken." I've always been the type of person that does everything possible to accomplish something once I set my mind to it. At a young age, one of these passions was to do things that I wasn't supposed to be able to do because of my disability. I played musical instruments, sang, took up acting and mime. I even tried ventriloquism. It wasn't until one of my older brothers passed away while stationed with the Air Force in California that I found what I feel is my calling.       I found magic, or rather, magic found me.

My family and I went to a memorial service for my brother. We weren't in much of a mood for site seeing, but friends of my brothers did show us around while we where there. So it was that chance visit to California that I found my first magic shop. I left with a bag full of tricks and worked to master them when I got home. Sometime later I found a magic shop in my hometown and it became like a second home to me. I'd spend all the time and money on magic tricks and books. I also found that all the skills I've learned over the years could be incorporated in my magic performances. In other words, Magic was it for me. 
(I still thank my brother Paul for that. I honestly believe that he had something to do with me finding this magic shop).

Magic gave me a lot of confidence. I have a very loving and supportive family, and a lot of great friends. But I found magic filled a space in my life that I didn't know needed filling. Here I am, someone who once felt left out in rooms full of conversations that I couldn't participate in now often becoming the subject of conversation. As I perform for groups of people, I have the pleasure of seeing their eyes full of wonder and amusement. As they give their appreciation through the laughter and applause, the need to feel "Normal" no longer exists. It's replaced with the fulfillment of not only being accepted, but also appreciated.

I couldn't honestly say that my hearing difference hasn't brought forth certain challenges as a performer. As I'm getting older my hearing has decreased to the point where I am now considered truly deaf. I have no hearing in my right ear and very little in my left. Hearing isn't measured in percentages, but it's safe to say that I have about 15% hearing in my left ear at certain pitches. The problem is, I can't hear the pitch that most speech is in (This is what makes me deaf. The inability to hear speach to communicate).
It's even harder hearing the high voices of women and children. As a performer who loves to interact with my audiences, this can be an obstacle to me. Even now, I need to have some things translated to me from a person I can more easily understand, like the parents of a child may need to repeat what their child said. I've had to become skillful at ways to present myself that doesn't offend anyone in the process of translation.       I've also had to overcome the matter of my speech. Since I could hear a lot better at one time, my speech is quite understandable. I do however have a slight slur from time to time. This is something I sought to improve. I wanted my audiences to understand me.
To remedy this, I'd read out loud to a trusted friend or family member and ask them to tell me when and if I'd say anything unclear. I would then work on that word or sound. It usually was a straightforward matter of repeating the word slowly. This has been a great help for me. I've gotten to the point now where I have casual acquaintances that have known me for years yet never knew of my hearing difference. My girlfriend knew me almost a month before she did, and someone had to tell her then!

When I perform, I feel it is important for my audiences to know of my deafness. I usually do this in a subtle humorous way. As I mentioned, I love to interact with them. It makes them feel a part of it all. This is why I feel it necessary to let them know of my hearing difference. Otherwise, they may mistake my inability to hear them for negligence or arrogance. This may well seem an easy task, but in truth, it's the most difficult of all my challenges. The last thing I want from my audiences is pity or sympathy. I want to be remembered for my proficiency as a magician that happens to be deaf. I strive for the reaction of true laughter and wonder, not the response, "Your great, for a deaf guy".

Because it's very hard to feel two emotions at once, I share a little humor on the subject of my deafness as I perform. This helps people know where I stand on the subject. Hopefully, I can erase any thought of pity in the process.

You may be able to see that in many ways my hearing difference has actually been somewhat of an inspirational tool for me. For with out it, I may never have had the drive to become what I am today. It is that passion that has made me a better performer as well as a person. I suggest everyone, for we all have our hurdles to overcome, to find some kind of passion. The feeling of accomplishment is worth all the time one might invest in it.

In closing, I've always had the passion of accomplishing things that one might think impossible. What better field to do that in then Magic? 

Magically yours, 

Ron Jaxon