Help! I can’t hear without my subtitles

Cassie Lovelock explores her appreciation for closed captions/subtitles as an ADHD-er in this shared love letter.

Dear close captions, you wonderful depictions. Keeping me on track when my mind starts to wonder. Giving away clues to the thing I am watching when my attention has whizzed off in 4 different directions. There are so many things going on in my head and I’m trying to concentrate on this show? I like the show, it's based on a series of books I adore? But I just can’t seem to pay attention. I was never into watching tv as a kid. It always felt like exercise or homework? It was never the switch off people described, it was a task. I realise now this was due to ADHD. I can absorb books, comics, things on the page (useful given my day job as an academic). Video games where you’re forced to stop and read text before being able to continue? Incredible! But TV? YouTube videos? TikTok? The hell that is the cinema? I’m out.

Lots of ADHD-ers struggle with auditory processing. This means we struggle to understand and process sounds, their directions, spoken words, and music. It is not a struggle to ‘hear’ (though I have that too) but the brain struggles to process the sounds, particularly in loud environments with multiple overlapping noises. It can be hard for ADHD-ers to figure out if they have auditory processing problems; particularly because asking someone to repeat themselves, taking longer to respond to questions that are ‘usual’ and having difficulty following multiple instructions given at one time are all experiences of both ADHD and auditory processing issues.

But back to captions!

Captions help identify who is speaking on screen, what is being said, and what significant background noises are happening (think birdsong, doors slamming, the buzz of a city). They highlight when music is starting to play and the style of the music which often provides context to the scene. They help us to know what is going on with less energy and concentration required. More than that, captions help you tease out the multiple things that are happening at once, help you make sense of the facial expressions characters are making, and give clues to what emotions the scene might be stirring inside you.

For neurodivergent folk with auditory processing issues, living in a world designed for neurotypical people is exhausting. When you don’t ‘naturally’ or easily process sounds and information it takes up a lot of energy, time, and mental resources to navigate everyday conversations. So often we are accused of being rude, of not paying attention, of disregarding people but in reality (at least for me) sometimes your words just haven’t filtered through the wool/custard which metaphorically makes up the pathways from my ears to my brain. What’s more, when my senses are completely overloaded, captions allow me to consume content with no sound at all.

This is why, for me, closed captions and subtitles have been a blessing - even the terrible automatic ones. Being able to focus on words helps my concentration, but more than that, focusing on the words stops my mind wondering as much - captions help prevent distraction and keep me on track. Yes when consuming content for fun but also in meetings. My work life changed when zoom bought in automatic captioning. Plus they make the information on the screen easier to process. Captioning might seem like an odd reasonable adjustment for people without hearing impairments but I hope I have illustrated how they can be helpful for neurodivergent people in particular those of us with auditory processing issues.

Dr Cassandra Lovelock

Associate

Cassie (she/they) is a Black mixed-race wheelchair user living with chronic illness and neurodivergence.

She is a scholar activist whose work focuses on ethical, community based and lived experience led research, education, and policy making practice within the fields of mental health, neurodiversity, unpaid care, critical disability studies, and race studies.

As an academic, Cassie's current work focuses on the intersections of poverty, mental illness, and support from the welfare state in the UK and ethical ways of co-producing knowledge and knowledge equity among communities that are disempowered within mental health, social care, and welfare services in the UK. She is a lead lived experience consultant in NHS England's adult mental health, and mental health, autism and learning disability quality transformation teams.

Outside of work Cassie mostly reads fiction, writes poetry, and hangs out with her cat.

Previous
Previous

United We Stand: A Queer Neurodivergent Rally Cry

Next
Next

Autism Research—What’s New in July