When I think about why I started The Resonance, I immediately think about my grandmother.

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She has lived most of her adult life with severe hearing loss. In India, where access to hearing care and assistive resources are often limited, she had to rely on guesswork, lip-reading, and context in order to conduct a simple conversation. Family gatherings would fill with laughter, but she sometimes sat quietly, piecing together dialogue. Over facetime, I noticed how phone calls were becoming difficult for her as well. Simply going to doctor’s appointments were frustrating and casual conversations required tons of energy.  

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Although I have struggled with a minor hearing loss my entire life, as a child I didn’t fully understand what she was experiencing and the severity of it. All I noticed was that she smiled often, nodded carefully, and leaned in closely when someone spoke. As I grew older, I began to see the exhaustion behind the strength. Hearing loss isn’t just about sound, but it’s about connection, which requires strength. 

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However, my grandmother was defined by her hearing loss. She built a life, raised a family, and carried herself with resilience and grace. Watching her adapt to a world that wasn’t designed for accessibility changed the way I began thinking about inclusion. It made me realize that accessibility isn’t charity but it is rather justice for those who lack opportunities. 

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The Resonance stemmed from her story. This organization exists so that less people are forced to navigate silence alone. It exists to fund opportunities, raise awareness, and ensure that hard-of-hearing individuals, especially in under-resourced communities, have the tools and support they deserve.