First off, if you’re expecting a post about confidence coming from the metaphorical amplification of your voice into a metaphorical microphone, this is not that post.

This is quite literally about using a microphone.

Easy question: what goes through your mind when you are in a large room, and some person gets up front and says, “I’m good without the mic – you can all hear me, right?”  

Well, for about 10% of the population (myself included), it’s dread.  It’s dread that I’m about to spend 5-20 exhausting minutes straining to understand what is said.

I don’t know if it’s laziness, machismo, anxiety, or time constraints that cause people to wave away a microphone when it’s offered. But the thing is, it happens all the time. That is, someone sets up, configures, and probably pays for amplification.  All the speaker has to do is use it, and they decline.

Do you realize when you do this that some of us *quite literally* can’t hear you?  We may have hearing loss from an accident, from aging, from birth, or from illness.  We may have issues with auditory processing. We may have hearing impairment that is temporary (like from swimmer’s ear) or permanent.  We may rely on lip reading to help, which is challenging in an age of masking, or if the speaker is far away.

We may have hearing difficulties that are exacerbated by circumstances, such as crowd chatter or the hum of an HVAC system. It’s like driving in a city with tall buildings that block your GPS. You know it will come back on (i.e., the HVAC will turn back off again), but until it does, you’re grasping and aimless and may not be heading towards your destination.

You may indeed be a person with a loud voice who can project.  What you may not know is that hearing loss can vary across higher frequency and lower frequency registers – which means someone with a low or high voice trying to project ‘louder’ may not help, particularly because their voice may change register as they try to amplify their voice.  It’s also likely that the volume a speaker can start at isn’t sustainable (unless they are, for example, a professional opera singer. Pro tip: ask yourself, “am I a professional opera singer?”) 

What might start out as hear-able in a quiet room becomes more difficult as background noise rises (you do cross and uncross your legs after a few minutes, right? and grab a mint, or zip your backpack, or mutter something to whomever is sitting next to you, or take a note, or type something…), and the speaker’s voice gradually lowers in volume.    

What does it feel like to not be able to hear a speaker addressing the room? You know when you’re in a big group and someone in the audience asks a question and everyone shouts to the speaker, “can you repeat that?” It feels like that, for the whole time.  You may catch the gist of what was said or asked, you may catch a few words, you may have a sense of what’s going on. But you can’t actually hear it.

Here’s the thing. I expect this to happen at a restaurant or a cocktail party.  I can tell within about 30 seconds of walking into an event or dinner whether I will be able hear all night or not. Often I can’t. And if I can’t, I am disappointed but not surprised. But when it’s a meeting, a religious service, a conference session, or a town hall-style event, I have an expectation that there will be amplification and that I will be able to hear.

So the next time someone hands you a microphone and you’re inclined to wave it away because you “have a loud voice,” think twice.  I know wires can curb your TED Talk-style stage wandering ability, and that all kinds of mics can create awful feedback that nobody appreciates. It can be frustrating in the moment to take a minute and resolve the technical issue rather than just volunteer to use your “loud voice.” 

Do it anyway. There are people in the audience who will appreciate it.