15th Jun 2018
Welcome to Opposites Attack; Image.ie’s brand new debate series. Over the coming weeks, two members of our team will go head-to-head, tackling some of the biggest questions from the office kitchen. Today, we debate whether it’s better to have a deep voice or a high-pitched one.
Geraldine Carton, staff writer says:
I hate hearing recordings of my voice, I know everyone does, but as a woman with a very low voice, I feel more justified in my discomfort. Listening to playbacks of myself talking is something I encounter at an increasing rate now that I work as a journalist and frequently carry out interviews. On the phone I seem to take on an audio impersonation of a reptilian villain in a Disney movie. And that’s when I’ve had a good night’s sleep.
I remember going to an open mic comedy gig at my college, and as the comedian went around doing a bit of audience interaction, he pointed in my direction and asked me a question. My answer was followed by a silence, and then an eruption of howling laughter as the comedian retorted with a “WOHHHH! WHAT’S WITH THE CREEPY MURDERER’S VOICE COMING OUT FROM THE NICE YOUNG LADY?”
Young ladies with deep voices will understand the struggle. The job interviews beginning with a startled reaction as the interviewer adjusts to our deep baritone voices. The constant corrections that no, neither a cold nor a heavy night out is to blame for the state of our voice. “No,” we must say in as chipper a tone as we can muster, “this is just how I always sound!”.
Grace McGettigan, staff writer says:
I would give a large chunk of my life’s savings to have a deeper voice. I’m high-pitched and soft-spoken; the type of voice you’d expect to hear in a kids’ cartoon. Except, I’m not in a kids’ cartoon. I’m in my late-twenties, trying to establish a life-long career. Yet still, when someone rings the house-phone, I’m asked, “Is your mum or dad home?”
Something about my voice makes people tune out of what I’m saying. I can’t command a room like a woman with a deep voice can. I don’t come across as authoritative or powerful; rather small and meek. People don’t take me seriously, even when I’m being deadly serious. I can’t scold a child, (because I sound like one myself); nor can I get my dog to stop barking when a cat walks by our window. My voice seems to go over everyone’s heads. In group projects, I get cut across and talked-over. I can’t help but think I’d be more in control of situations if my voice were a few pitches deeper.
I get quite a few patronising comments, including, “Aww, you’re so cute”. This used to bother me a lot; especially in school or in work environments where I was desperate to sound professional. I’ve finally accepted there are worse things I could be called. Still though, if you hear of any voice deepening technology I could use, send it my way. I’d be very, very, grateful.
Paul Mescal fans, this one is for you… A 14-minute...
The documentary Miss Americana has shown a different side to...
Holograms of the children she may never have dance across Dearbhla Crosses' mind as an MS diagnosis and Covid-19 are unwelcome reminders of her biological clock ticking.
Still one of our favourite homes ever, the easy-breezy interiors...
With diversity on the rise, what struggles do interracial couples continue to face today? Filomena Kaguako speaks to three couples about their experiences.