Clark’s work in this space exemplifies such an approach. As a licensed clinical social worker and kinesiologist specializing in sport and exercise psychology, Clark’s personal journey drives her dedication to this work. She experienced hearing loss in her early teens and learned American Sign Language (ASL) to communicate. She continued to pursue athletics through her adolescence and college career, eventually winning one gold and two silver medals in volleyball across three Deaflympics in the 1980s.
However, like many elite athletes, Clark faced intense pressure to perform and internalized the belief that admitting to mental health struggles was a sign of weakness. A lack of open dialogue about emotional well-being in sports only made things harder. “I needed help with mental health to process stress, loss, and grief that’s normal in and of itself,” she said. “But as an athlete, I didn’t want to be labeled. I didn’t want someone saying, ‘You’re seeing a psychiatrist? What’s wrong with you?’ So, I became a therapist myself, specializing in athletes. It was my way of normalizing the conversation.”
Many DHH athletes grapple with the fact that deafness, often an invisible condition, has historically led to DHH individuals being misdiagnosed with psychiatric conditions or labeled as intellectually disabled. This fuels reluctance to seek mental health support as many fear misunderstanding or judgment. Frustrated by the lack of culturally competent services for DHH athletes, Clark has spent decades advocating for change across universities and sports organizations.
The DHH community is a heterogenous group, with a wide range of communication styles and preferences, cultural identities, and degrees of hearing loss (Padden, C., & Humphries, T., Deaf in America: Voices from a Culture, Harvard University Press, 1988opens in new window). For example, some, especially those with complete hearing loss, communicate through sign language, have only (or mostly) DHH friends and acquaintances, and capitalize the word “Deaf” to reflect their status as part of this cultural and linguistic minority. Others may view their hearing loss as a medical condition or disability rather than an identity. They may employ assistive technologies such as hearing aids or cochlear implants as well as speech reading, a combination of lip reading and interpreting facial expressions and gestures.
DHH athletes must navigate hurdles that don’t exist for their hearing counterparts. For example, they often encounter communication barriers, such as limited access to qualified interpreters. These challenges can result in them missing vital information such as training plans or instructions and reduced opportunities to connect with coaches, training staff, and their hearing teammates. These factors not only hamper inclusion but may impact performance.
Danielle Previ, PhD, a pediatric psychologist at Gallaudet University in Washington, D.C., is competing in the Deaflympics for the first time as a mountain biker for Team USA. “The last local race that I did, the organizer was making announcements with a microphone,” said Previ, who identifies as profoundly deaf. “I was completely lost as to what was going on.” Previ asked a hearing cyclist for information, but she was also unable to hear the announcer properly because of background noise and the mic’s feedback. To Previ, it demonstrated the importance of conveying crucial information in accessible ways that benefit every competitor’s performance and safety, regardless of hearing ability. “I know sound is important for many people, but there are several different ways. For example, in other races, there’s a board with different categories written down that conveys what time each race starts, and that is definitely more accessible.”
Jeffrey Mansfield, USADSF president and a three-time Deaflympian, brings personal insight to how communication barriers can undercut both performance and the mental well-being of DHH athletes. As an NCAA Division 1 college hockey player, Mansfield often didn’t have equal communication access to essential team moments such as pregame speeches or strategy sessions because of a lack of integrated interpreting services. That had significant consequences when he failed an exam on the team’s system. “I was seeing certain things and words for the very first time, and I was completely at a loss. My failure was interpreted as a failure of commitment, as a lack of attentiveness and focus,” said Mansfield. “These microaggressions happen to [DHH] athletes at all levels. We need to educate our coaches and our sports organizations, and sports psychologists play a key role in this effort.”
When sport and performance consultants and psychologists take the time to recognize and respond to the unique communication needs of the DHH athletes, they can help deepen engagement and support in their training and competition. This includes appropriate and thoughtful modifications such as using visual tools including PowerPoint slides, text messages, video, or white boards to ensure DHH athletes have full access to the information they require (Hanrahan, S. J., Australian Psychologist, Vol. 50, No. 2, 2015opens in new window).