This article originally appeared in Gallaudet Today’s Spring 2009 issue. Click here to view the print version.

In the changing face of higher education, a student body composed mainly of new high school graduates is being replaced by students of all ages and experiences.

Stepping onto a new campus with hundreds – or even thousands – of other students is frequently a daunting experience for students attending their first day of college. When different ages are added to the mix, their apprehension may increase: Can they relate to a student body made up of younger or older students who may be light years apart in interests and life experience? Will they be accepted or find themselves in isolation on the fringe of the campus social scene?

Fortunately, these first-day jitters are becoming a thing of the past. “Non-traditional students,” as they are often called, are growing in numbers; in fact, they are steadily becoming part of the norm for the student body at colleges and universities.

Although the average age of a college student is 18 to 25, the number of students over age 25 has skyrocketed at colleges and universities everywhere. According to Back to College, an online resource for adults returning to college, 28 percent of all college students were 25 years old or older in 1970; in 1998, this increased to 41 percent. The National Center for Education Statistics states that students 35 years or older soared from 823,000 in 1970 to an estimated 2.9 million in 2001 – an increase of 19.2 percent. Current estimates put the number of students who are over 25 at 47 percent of the college student population.

An early start
Very little research exists on college students who are younger than 17 years old, but one study by the University of Washington found that young students – specifically, those between the ages of 12 and 14 – “don’t fit the stereotype of unhappy ‘nerds’ who are humorless, isolated misfits,” but rather, “extremely versatile, interested, interesting, and sociable.”

Tom Holcomb, ’80, a professor in the Interpreter Preparation Program, Center for Deaf Studies and Special Services at Ohlone College in California, came to Gallaudet at the age of 16. “Although I had family nearby, which was a huge help, I often felt left out and almost disconnected from the other students,” he said. “But in retrospect, I realize it was mostly a self-inflicted perception.” He also noted that there was more attention given to four of his fellow freshmen – who were all female and all 16 years old. “Most of the campus community was focused on them instead of me, which I consider a blessing in disguise because I was able to blend into the scene a bit more than they could.”

David Kurs, ’98, a filmmaker and scriptwriter in Hollywood, Calif., also enrolled at the age of 16. Like others who were younger than the typical freshman, Kurs did not want to call attention to his age. “I tried to make my age a secret upon arriving on campus – and failed miserably,” he said. “The kids I had gone to camp with knew how old I was and told everyone else. As is probably the norm, I never made an issue out of my age, but everyone else did.” There were advantages to being young, though, he said with a chuckle. “I loved that because I was younger than the others, everyone thought I was a genius. Rumors spread about my photographic memory, that I had received a job offer from NASA, and that I had memorized the dictionary – none of which were true. Instead of denying these queries, I would just smile, vaguely affirming the truth of these rumors.”

Both Holcomb and Kurs credit extracurricular activities such as sports and student government with helping them fit in. Holcomb added that when he joined a fraternity, he “finally felt accepted, even though I realize I was accepted all along. It was simply a confirmation for me that I really did belong there.” Kurs said, “I was probably more suspectible to influences. I think the only difference, if any, between myself and the other students was that I sought ut role models with more effort. I was more eager to participate in the rituals and traditions of the freshman class, probably because I didn’t bother to question the point of these activities. I wanted to be able to say that I took part in everything.”

Timothy Jaech, ’61, a retired school administrator, stepped on campus in 1957 when he was 15 years old. Although he had an older sister who kept an eye on him, he had his share of humbling experiences, particularly one evening as a freshman watching a lively discussion in the Men’s Reading Room of College Hall. “I loved those bull sessions, and it was fascinating to watch the upperclassmen match wits. After watching much intellectual ‘bull’ going back and forth, I raised my hand to toss in my two cents’ worth,” he chuckles. “One of the upperclassmen looked at me and remarked, ‘What does a little kid like you think you can add to this discussion?’ Miffed, I shot back, ‘I’m not a kid! I’m 15 1/2 years old!’ I think the whole room broke out laughing, and I was sorry the minute I said it.”

Other notable young alumni include Astrid (Amann) Goodstein, ’65, and her husband, Board of Trustees member Harvey Goodstein, ’65, both of whom retired from Gallaudet after long and distinguished careers and reside in Scottsdale, Ariz. They both began their years at Gallaudet as 16-year-old preparatory students. It is interesting to note that Harvey’s sister, Roslyn Rosen, ’62, and Astrid’s brother, Franklyn Amann, ’64, also attended at a young age. Astrid, who graduated from the California School for the Deaf in Berkeley (CSD), said, “I was probably more or less a prima donna at CSD. Upon arrival at Gallaudet, I wasn’t used to competition in and outside of class, so I felt humbled and even insecure. Besides, there were no summer programs like Youth Leadership Camp or Junior NAD back then, so leadership skills in those days were developed by trial and error. Even so, I’m forever grateful for my unique, non-stop and holistic education at Gallaudet.”

The Goodsteins noted that they would probably have different experiences if they were students at modern-day Gallaudet. “Back then, the campus was so small that everyone knew everyone,” Astrid explained. “We were really like a family, and people were always watching out for and supporting us. We also had a curfew and study halls. I don’t know how I’d handle it today, in such a different culture and world,” she said, adding that the university has organizations and programs implemented to support student success.

Never too late
On the opposite end of the spectrum are students who decide to either start or return to college after their adult lives are well underway. A commonly cited reason for enrolling at college at this stage of life is to improve employability. This was the case for Catherine Garbacz, ’97, of Sacramento, Calif. A single mother of two daughters, Garbacz was laid off from her job in 1993 and decided to complete her college degree at age 43 by coming to Gallaudet. An active member and president of the Never Too Late Club, Garbacz found her experiences as an older student double-majoring in government and English to be unique.

“The biggest challenge for me was competing with younger minds, and sharing a room with kids who did not have the life experiences that I had already attained,” she remembers. “But I dealt with it by receiving support from other older students, especially the Never Too Late Club, and becoming a resident assistant.” To stay informed about campus life issues, she became even more active with organizations such as the Student Body Government.

Tom Benziger, ’94, of Woodridge, Ill., originally attended Gallaudet in the 1960s, but left before completing his degree. Benziger was working as a deaf services advocate at Access Living in Chicago, Ill., an independent living center, supervising several staff members who held master’s degrees. Some of them felt Benziger, despite his experience, should have at least a bachelor’s degree.

After many hours of discussion with his wife, Benziger made the decision to return to Gallaudet. “It wasn’t easy, because I knew I’d have to maintain a long-distance relationship with my wife,” he explained. “You have to remember that in the early 1990s, we only had the TTY for live conversation, and that was cumbersome. It was harder than anything I’ve ever had to do,” he said, adding that it was well worth it. The Never Too Late Club, he said, gave him unparalleled support when he missed his family.

On campus, Benziger quickly became a strong advocate for non-traditional students, but sometimes found it awkward when his teachers were younger than him, not to mention the realization that his classmates were the children of people he had attended Gallaudet with in the 1960s. “As a government major, it was always strange being in classes with students who had no idea of how real-life advocacy or governmental matters worked,” he recalled. “They also complained about so much, even though they had access to computers and other modern-day technology. Back in the 1960s, I had to do everything by hand or on a typewriter.” Even so, Benziger found the experience enriching. “I learned a lot from my classmates, regardless of age, and from professors such as the incomparable Dr. Mary Malzkuhn, a wonderful teacher.”

Both Garbacz and Benziger agree that their personal sacrifices have paid off. Benziger was promoted as soon as he returned to Access Living; Garbacz attended graduate school at Gallaudet and San Diego State University, and is now a rehabilitation counselor for deaf, hard of hearing and deaf-blind individuals with the California Department of Rehabilitation.

Until recently, the majority of non-traditional students did not have services catering to their unique needs. Benziger recalls how difficult circumstances could be for older students living off-campus: “There was a fellow student in her 70s, and she lived off-campus. She often had no place to go in between classes, so she had to wait hours and hours wandering the campus. It was physically difficult for her to lug around so many textbooks.” Benziger provided the use of his dorm room so that she could have a place to go in between classes.

Today, Gallaudet offers many other services to accommodate its changing student body, including non-traditional students who live on campus. The Commuter Lounge, where lockers and computers are available, is one example; it serves as an ideal place for them to stay between classes.

Identifying needs
The Hobson electronic communication system, used by over 1,000 colleges and universities – including Gallaudet – tracks student participation and ensures that students don’t fall through cracks. It has given invaluable insights in meeting students’ needs, said Associate Provost for Enrollment Catherine Andersen. Hobson has provided useful information for non-traditional students regardless of age, Andersen said; the university can send out communications tailored to students who are in specific age brackets, have children, or possess other unique characteristics. Additionally, incoming freshmen are required to take a first-year course as part of the general studies requirement, which assists in determining areas of interest for study, first-year concerns and challenges, and more. “When we did a research study of persistence, we found that those who took this course had a 11 percent higher persistent rate into the second year,” Andersen said.

Retain is another web-based system that helps Gallaudet communicate with current students in ways that encourage them to stay focused on their academic pursuits. “We can connect them to areas of interest, or communicate with them in areas of concern,” said Andersen. “Faculty can report attendance patterns, and coaches can interact with faculty and students so that everyone is supporting the persistence of students.”

In all, the Gallaudet experience provides to be unique for each student, regardless of age. “I don’t look back and evaluate whether entering Gallaudet at such a young age was a mistake,” Kurs said. “My development adjusted around that event. It made the way I am. Looking back, I had the opportunity to take the time to develop personally and professionally after graduation a bit longer than others did. For the first time in my life, I had the luxury of time – I traveled a lot, and hopped from job to job.”

He added, “I think that all of us who entered Gallaudet at earlier ages realize that there are no absolute rules. We can adapt to the situation, or not. We all have it in us to prosper on campus at any age.”

The author: Trudy Suggs, ’95, owns T.S. Writing Services and came to Gallaudet as a 16-year-old freshman.

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There’s a lot of buzz in the media about how nonprofits are struggling financially because donations have decreased – way decreased. This translates, of course, to fewer services provided by nonprofits – which has affected organizations in the deaf community, some to extremes.

So, I figured I’d help start 2009 with hope, and get the word out about some of the charities/nonprofit organizations that I think are just great. In no particular order, I’m keeping a close eye on five causes this year, and I hope to support each in some way. Maybe you can do the same.

Discovering Deaf Worlds: I’ve worked with Discovering Deaf Worlds (www.discoveringdeafworlds.com) the past year on their newsletter, and I have been nothing but astounded by the incredible stories from this non-profit organization. Discovering Deaf Worlds founders Dave Justice and Christy Smith have gone off – way off – the beaten path and discovered so many unexplored corners of the world. By doing so, they’re bringing about awareness not only for people like me, but also for people in those corners who have no idea of their opportunities as deaf individuals. Justice and Smith are giving us all hope for a future.

Domestic violence programs: As a childhood domestic violence survivor, I really wish programs like Abused Deaf Women Advocacy Services (www.adwas.org) and Deaf Hope (www.deaf-hope.org) existed when I was a little girl. It’s only by sheer determination that Mom and I got out of the situation we were in. Two years after we left, at the age of 10, I watched The Burning Bed starring Farrah Fawcett, sobbing because it was the first time I had ever understood  the hell we went through. The movie also made me realize, for the first time in my life, that everything that had happened wasn’t our fault and that we weren’t alone.

Even today, 25 years later, thousands of deaf women and men find themselves in dangerous situations – and not so many are as lucky as Mom and I were. We got out. And so many don’t. Domestic violence survivors – and victims – are often the most ordinary people – like me – who you’d never guess were in such situations. Even today, people gasp when they learn what my mother and I had to live with for a decade.

Support  domestic violence agencies, locally and nationally, that serve deaf people. You might just help spare a child’s life.

Global Reach Out Initiative: A young organization, Global Reach Out (GRO) is going places – figuratively and literally. As its website (www.globalreachout.org) states, GRO “seeks to serve as a launching pad for the world’s young deaf role models to work together, learn from one another, and inspire others.” GRO accomplishes this by encouraging deaf youth to come together in a delegation and address social issues limiting deaf populations’ opportunities to grow.

GRO also says, “We believe in the domino effect: if one delegate is inspired to work towards social change, many more will follow. Inspiration is contagious!” Indeed.

National Association of the Deaf:  I’ve been a long-time member – and yes, a long-time critic – of the National Association of the Deaf (www.nad.org). But it wasn’t until I served on the board for just over a year that I appreciated fully how much work is put into the NAD. As the oldest civil rights organization for deaf people in the United States, the NAD is a powerful advocacy and lobbying machine, despite what naysayers have said and will say. Give the NAD a couple of dollars. Even a buck goes a long way. Better yet, join as a member.

Rescue programs or shelters caring for deaf animals: Having had two deaf dogs, I can’t emphasize enough how crucial it is to rescue deaf animals, whether dogs, cats or others. Thousands of deaf animals are abandoned and killed each year simply because they’re deaf – and this tugs at my heart in so many ways. Their experiences, and fate, are so similar to our experiences as a deaf community. Besides, who better to understand deaf pets than deaf people?

One such program is at Deaf Animal Row (deafanimalrow.blogspot.com). Contact your local shelter or rescue program and see if they have deaf animals needing homes or support. Then share what you can, whether it’s a blanket, treats, money, or best of all, a home.

We have a new president elected on a platform of change and hope. Let’s be part of his platform and help change this world a little at a time and give  people – or animals –  hope.

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I have a small but nice chunk of change that I want to donate to Gallaudet University. Given how the university has bombarded my family with literature begging for donations the past few years, I assumed they’d jump at the chance for some money.

Yeah, you’d think.

Instead, I’ve been given the runaround for over a year (yup, you read that right) trying to get someone, anyone, at the university to take my money.

Since 2007, I’ve been traveling the nation on a speaking tour, sharing for the first time the documents involved with the expose I did on Holly Daniel. At each of the presentations, I announced that a portion of my earnings would be donated to Gallaudet University. Specifically, I wanted to donate it to the Deaf Studies program.

Prior to the tour, I contacted the appropriate individuals at the university. They were each very interested, and the development office asked me to fill out a donation form. Another individual and I planned a videophone meeting; that never took place because of delays on her part. After continued attempts to get this scholarship set up for over a year with almost no results, I decided that I would stop expending my energy on what seemed a fruitless endeavor.

Around the same time I made this decision, I attended the Gallaudet University Alumni Association Charter Day festivities. I happened to informally meet with a new development office representative. I expressed interest in perhaps redirecting my donation to the university’s new museum fund. She reassured me she would look into this right away. That was last April.

Today, I’m still waiting for somebody, anyone, to take my donation. I wrote a letter to Gallaudet and sent a copy to President Bob Davila’s office. To date, I have not received a response or acknowledgment.

Gallaudet University has expressed concerns both privately and publicly about its dwindling number of donations; some people have pointed to the 2006 protests as a possible cause. Based on my struggles in trying to give my money to the university, it seems to me that the cause is painfully clear: they don’t respond to actual donation offers from people they consider unimportant – like me.

Maybe they think the amount I want to donate is too small. It’s not $20,000, but it’s not $500, either. Yet beggars can’t be choosers. Take a story my friend shared. He worked for a museum in the development office, and there was a woman who donated “only” $10 each year for many years. One year, she suddenly decided to donate $25,000. The lesson here is it doesn’t matter what the amount is. Each donor must be treated equally, whether it’s $10, $1,000 or millions of dollars.

I’ve been asked why I don’t donate the money to the National Association of the Deaf (NAD). Here’s why: when I wrote the Daniel story in 1997, NAD was steadfast in its refusal to lend my story any support. I asked the organization time after time for a comment or support, but never succeeded. After the story hit the national media – it was the focus of a popular Chicago Tribune column twice, appeared in the New York Times, and had a front-page mention in Advertising Age – NAD suddenly expressed interest. Perhaps it’s because NAD didn’t want to alienate potential advertisement income. Whatever the reason, it wouldn’t be right for me to donate this specific money to them. Never mind that NAD is near and dear to my heart today.

So, I’m trying to figure out what to do with this money. Perhaps my company should set up a one-time scholarship fund so I can give away this money. Or perhaps I should simply donate it to a local deaf organization. I don’t know.

Anyone need some change?

Update (Sept. 26)
I am truly impressed. Only hours after this entry was published, I received a call from Paul Drehoff, the vice president of institutional advancement at Gallaudet University. He’s new to the university, and among his responsibilities is the oversight of the development office.  He left a sincere apology on my videomail, and I e-mailed him in response.

He replied with another apology, and we set up a time to talk on the phone today at noon. Today, he called at noon sharp, and accompanying him was the development office’s Doris Parent. After some small talk, we quickly and easily worked out the arrangements for my donation to the university’s new museum fund.

I was quite pleased with Mr. Drehoff’s sincerity and eagerness to get things done. What impressed me even more was that Mr. Drehoff didn’t try to excuse anyone’s behavior. He said what happened should have not happened, and he’s right.

There’s hope yet for the university.

Copyrighted material. This article can not be copied, reproduced, or redistributed without the express written consent of the author.

This article originally appeared at i711.com.

This article originally appeared at i711.com.

It was a question that lingered in many people’s minds, including ours. We all wondered, given that my husband is a third-generation deaf person and I second-generation, whether our new baby would be deaf or hearing. My husband and I threw out the obligatory “The important thing is our baby’s healthy” to anyone who asked. We had sent in our blood to Gallaudet’s genetics program for testing in the fourth month of my pregnancy, but knew the results would arrive after our child’s birth. Either way, it wouldn’t have made a difference for us if the baby was deaf or hearing. Even so, we couldn’t help but wonder in the back of our heads. All we could do was wait.

Meanwhile, I worked with area agencies to enact legislation a statewide early hearing detection and intervention program (EHDI), knowing it’d have an impact upon thousands of lives, including mine. I also made sure I stayed in good physical shape, and counted down the days.

The day after Eavan was born, we asked about her hearing test as mandated by the EHDI law. The nurse said unconcernedly that Eavan had tested as deaf earlier that morning, but had also been fussy so the test would be redone. My husband and I nodded, then we moved onto other topics.

Distracted by a million things, we didn’t give the test another thought until the following morning when the nurse came into our room. When asked, the nurse smiled with an enthusiastic nod, giving us a thumbs up. That threw us off momentarily – what did the thumbs up mean? After a short pause, I asked, “She’s deaf?” The nurse nodded and went to check my blood pressure. Nothing more was said, and we busied ourselves getting ready to go home.

Our own mothers and countless people had told us horror stories of how nurses were sad, uncomfortable, or even domineering in sharing hearing test results – which then affected the parents’ reactions. We were astounded – and encouraged – by the optimistic, “it’s no big deal” attitude at District One Hospital. In fact, a couple of times throughout my pregnancy, we were asked about genetic ‘defects’ in our families. Whenever we mentioned our deaf families, the nurses always said, “No, that doesn’t count as a genetic defect.” Our doctor was equally nonchalant about the hearing issue.

Of course, this is very different for hearing parents with no prior history. But think about it: what if medical folks everywhere were as laid-back and optimistic? What if they were empathetic with parents faced with the often-overwhelming news of their child testing as deaf? What if nurses and doctors didn’t rush to engulf parents with so-called solutions or doomsday predictions? Would this make a difference in how parents initially react? I think so, although I can never put myself in those parents’ shoes.

If doctors were neutral but encouraging, perhaps parents wouldn’t respond with the same amount of shock or negativity that they typically do; human nature is hard to predict. All too often, how we react to something is fueled by the amount of negativity involved, or the lack of.

Maybe my husband and I shouldn’t have been so surprised by District One Hospital’s matter-of-fact approach. After all, this is a town with a large deaf population and the Minnesota State Academy for the Deaf. The hospital has had hundreds, if not thousands, of deaf patients over the years. The staff there knows being deaf isn’t a death sentence, and they were prepared in what resources to offer.

Even so, it was a relief to us to not have to deal with uninvited negativity upon learning Eavan’s hearing status. We were simply more concerned about her jaundice, whether she was pooping enough, and if she was warm enough. The hospital provided all the right resources, support and information for us – without a trace of pity or sorrow. That was exactly how we wanted our birth experience to be, especially with such a healthy baby who delights us every single day.

Copyrighted material. This article can not be copied, reproduced, or redistributed without the express written consent of the author.

This article originally appeared at i711.com.

Last summer, a colleague at a video relay services (VRS) provider contacted me to get names of local key contacts, because the company was looking to set up camp in the Twin Cities. Since I often use this VRS provider – let’s call it ABC VRS – I happily provided names.

Fast-forward to a few weeks ago. I read, with surprise, on an interpreter e-mail list that ABC VRS was hosting an open house. I thought perhaps I simply hadn’t heard about it, because I knew ABC VRS wouldn’t host such an event without involving deaf people. They had been working with a local deaf organization, so I figured I was just out of the loop. But after talking with board members of this deaf organization, I learned that ABC VRS had not reached out to the local deaf community at all. I e-mailed my contact at ABC VRS to ask why. The response:

This event will be strictly an interpreter recruitment event- deaf interpreters are welcome to attend to apply for jobs…

However, for such an event, where interpreters will be asking about salaries, benefits, personal information in terms of employment recruitment- we think it would be appropriate that this event stays the same, that it is for interpreters interested in working with [ABC VRS] – deaf or hearing.

Rest assured… an open invite will go out to…deaf organizations when we have our grand opening… It is our new model about having a meet/greet event for interpreters being separated from an opening event after getting comments from interpreters afraid to ask personal questions during opening events and it seem to work better in interpreter recruitment. It is not a deaf/hearing issue, but rather an employment recruitment effort.

Okaaaaay. While I understand the ‘recruitment’ concept, this exclusion is a slap in local deaf people’s faces. For any new call center, it’s critical to first drum up support from the very core of the VRS industry: deaf people themselves.

A few years ago, another VRS provider, XYZ VRS, came into town and established a call center. The interpreter shortage was severe at the time, and many were caught off-guard by XYZ VRS swooping in and snatching up the few interpreters left. The provider insisted that local interpreters asked the company to come to the Twin Cities. Yet, in a newspaper article, the center manager said that the VRS company had “wooed” local interpreters into establishing the call center. Either way, many locals were unhappy.

The affiliation with the XYZ VRS center got so bad that at a workshop I attended, a participant introduced herself saying, “In addition to being a freelance interpreter, I confess I also work for XYZ VRS.” I was taken aback; had it really gotten that bad – to the point where interpreters were ashamed to admit they worked for this particular company?

This backlash is easily understood, though: you cannot establish a service or company primarily for deaf consumers without involving them. Any company knows that to reach its target market, consumers are to be surveyed, pursued, and included. Interpreters are not the consumers nor the target market when it comes to VRS; deaf people are. We are the ones who utilize the service, relying upon it for everything from personal to professional matters, even life-or-death matters. For interpreters, VRS is an employment option. Deaf people and interpreters are valuable allies with very different goals and needs when it comes to VRS. Besides, without deaf people, there would be no need for VRS.

What ABC VRS and XYZ VRS should have done was involve deaf people at every level – especially locals. Furthermore, any interpreter uncomfortable asking questions in front of the company’s consumers shouldn’t be asking them at an open house; this should be saved for the actual hiring process. Transparency is key, especially with federally funded programs like VRS.

Any event, activity, or venture involving a very specific aspect of a community must involve the community’s core members, regardless of circumstances. It’s not an either-or issue. Involve local deaf people and interpreters when trying to establish a new call center in a particular location.

ABC VRS has shot itself in the foot by not drumming up support among deaf people, even if it’s managed to recruit some of the best interpreters in the state. This has left a bad taste in local deaf people’s mouths – the few who actually know about ABC’s plans, that is. Most of the local deaf people are still in the dark about ABC VRS coming to town, because ABC VRS hasn’t really involved them.

VRS companies must stop biting the hand that feeds them – especially when this hand belongs to the local deaf community.

Copyrighted material. This article can not be copied, reproduced, or redistributed without the express written consent of the author.

This article originally appeared at i711.com.

In 1997, an article published in DeafNation Newspaper examined staff numbers at 21 residential schools in the U.S. Only three schools reported having more than 40 percent of staff – including all levels of employees, such as maintenance, administrators, dorm staff and teachers – who were deaf or hard of hearing, Ten years later, at least five schools report having broken the 50 percent mark (click here to see chart).

The residential school has long played a pivotal role in the Deaf community, given its strong, deep roots in Deaf education history. With the 1817 establishment of American School for the Deaf, in Hartford, Conn., residential schools have since served as a social, educational and language source for many. In fact, it is often at such schools that deaf people are given language and meet deaf role models for the first time in their lives.

Effects of Deaf Staff
In the 1997 article, Brian Sipek, then a junior at the Illinois School for the Deaf, said, “The [hearing] staff are usually not familiar with what the student needs, being a deaf person. There are some hearing teachers, I admit, that try to be very helpful to deaf students, but it’s not the same coming from them, since they were never raised as a deaf person. They’re just not as familiar with being deaf as we are.”

Are students and communities better served through a large number of deaf employees at deaf schools? “Without question, a diverse faculty and staff impact positively on students’ motivation to achieve academically and to set their sights high,” says Texas School for the Deaf (TSD) superintendent Claire Bugen, who is hearing. “Deaf role models are part of the fabric of our educational environment.”

The positive effects of having deaf staff at residential schools are unquestionable, but most schools continue to have more hearing employees than deaf. Sipek feels this should be changed. “I still believe that there is a shortage of deaf and hard of hearing role models for these young students at the residential schools. Being a minority, deaf and hard of hearing children need role models, someone who views the world in the same way that they do, to look up to and be inspired by. “

Indiana School for the Deaf (ISD) superintendent Dr. David Geeslin, who is deaf, believes having deaf people on staff is a reason for ISD’s enrollment rising dramatically to 377 students within a few years. “Obviously, with deaf staff, we have a greater number of deaf role models for students, and this also leads to increased exposure to bilingualism for the students,” he says. “Deaf people can share knowledge that no college education can provide.”

Language is another benefit to having deaf staff, says Alex Slappey, Wisconsin School for the Deaf (WSD) superintendent. “Language is learned through the interchange of the language, and the richer and more diverse the language models available, the richer and more diverse the language foundation will be. It’s essential that students at WSD, an American Sign Language/English bilingual program, have the language models that both peers and adults provide. It is equally important that we have hearing staff because we are a bilingual program and provide the cultural and language models our students require to develop English language skills and an understanding of the hearing culture.”

Dr. Geeslin adds, “Even so, it’s critical that we maintain a bicultural environment where hearing staff are also equally respected and revered, especially if they’re fluent in both American Sign Language (ASL) and English and have the right attitude.”

Obstacles
Among the several reasons cited in the 1997 articles for having such low percentages of deaf staff were widening career choices for deaf professionals, hiring systems, pay levels, and certification procedures. These appear to continue to be challenges today.

“There are so many more professional employment opportunities today for people who are deaf and many more pre-service training and educational opportunities than there used to be. All of this is great, but it means that many capable individuals are seeking and finding challenging employment outside of the education arena,” says Joseph Finnegan, director of Conference of Educational Administrators of Schools and Programs for the Deaf (CEASD). “Also, I think that many individuals don’t see educational administrative employment as very attractive these days, especially with long hours, low pay and many headaches.” CESAD, established in 1868, provides accreditation for deaf schools, and advocacy and program services.

“The state hiring process may inadvertently discriminate against qualified deaf and hard of hearing candidates. This is less true for direct contact staff in Wisconsin, such as teachers, assistants, and dorm staff. We were successful in changing requirements for that in the early 1990s. However, it continues to be true for non-contact staff such as building/grounds and food services staff,” Slappey theorizes. “Bureaucratic certification systems are also impediments to hearing, deaf, or hard of hearing candidates, and can be rather discouraging.”

“I think there are both positives and negatives that contribute to this dilemma of a lack of deaf staff. Clearly, deaf people have many more career choices today than in the past, and with changing technology I suspect that will only continue to be a factor – that’s a good thing,” Bugen adds. “Salaries in education, on the other hand, have not kept pace with the private sector and many young people both want and need to be paid better than most educators are paid. Now with the requirements of highly qualified teaching under various laws, our already shrinking pool of qualified deaf and hearing candidates is compromised even further, which will likely cause more challenges in the years ahead.”

Dr. Geeslin is less forgiving. “Even though circumstances for gaining certification have become much stringent, the harsh truth is that we have to roll up our sleeves, whether we’re deaf or hearing or whatever our languages are, and work as much as we can to meet requirements. There’s no way around it at this point. We have to actually try and do what we can to earn our credentials, because we can. After all, we are to serve as models for students. It is time to raise the bar for ourselves and our students.”

Deaf Administrators
Currently, there are at least 14 deaf or hard of hearing superintendents in the nation, a number that fluctuates with time. “I foresee a need for more deaf administrators at deaf schools, but I think the pool of qualified candidates is smaller than it could be,” Slappey says. “Finding good administrators, whether hearing or deaf, is a problem. States are now more aware of and sensitive to the value a good deaf administrator brings to a program.”

Finnegan, a former superintendent, notes that graduate-level or professional-level training for deaf people were nonexistent for years, especially after the closure of the Leadership Training Program at California State University, Northridge, but that this is changing with the establishment of the Gallaudet Leadership Institute (GLI).

Training may be key, Bugen agrees, who also cites GLI. “Given the growing scarcity of young deaf or hearing professionals interested in education, we have to groom and grow our future leaders from within. We have to find ways to give our talented young deaf people opportunities to take on leadership roles and then encourage them to get the proper certification and training to assume administrative positions.”

“I think another challenge is that so many deaf administrators try to buck the system head-on instead of working within the system,” Dr. Geeslin states. “What helps me in my current position greatly are my years in outreach. I was out in the field, and I saw how hearing parents often didn’t care about Deaf culture. They simply wanted to find the best options for their children in acquiring spoken and/or written English. I had to come up with different ways of sharing the idea of using ASL to acquire English, and that really helped me understand the reality of working within the system in order to buck it. It’s all about mediating between the two worlds.”

New Challenges
What makes the enrollment boom that some residential schools are experiencing even more remarkable is that a Dec. 4 article in Education Week reported that only 15 percent of 72,000 K-12 deaf students attend deaf schools, down from 33 percent in 1985.

“I think there are two important elements that contribute to this success. The first is a community with a critical mass of Deaf people and a school that offers a high quality educational program. We find an increasingly large number of Deaf families moving to the Austin area so that their children can attend TSD,” Bugen says. “When this happens it not only keeps our enrollment strong, but it brings more Deaf families into the larger business and social community of Austin. Second, I believe the school must be ‘Deaf friendly’ and involve Deaf people in all aspects of the school’s operations so that Deaf people feel respected, valued and empowered.”

Serving a specific niche is another significant boost, Slappey says. “The landscape of deaf education has been changing and continues to change. Deaf schools, especially residential schools, need to decide where their focus is going to be in terms of who they will serve and how they will serve their students. WSD considers itself a niche school that serves children who require a visual language, ASL, to access education. This doesn’t mean we don’t serve the more hard of hearing child who uses English, but we do not sacrifice the needs of the ASL child to meet the needs of the English child. Deaf schools need to show how their uniqueness may make them a better placement option. To a large degree, this is an education and public relations issue. We must educate as to the unique needs, especially the communication and social emotional needs, of our deaf children.”

Even so, schools are struggling with an emergent problem: students with additional disabilities, such as autism or attention deficit disorder. According to Education Weekly, a 2005 survey indicated that 42 percent of 37,000 deaf students reported having additional disabilities. Dr. Geeslin, noting that 52 percent of ISD’s students have other disabilities, says that the lack of deaf teachers specializing in special education is a dilemma. “Now with the proliferation of students with additional needs, it’s even more crucial that deaf teachers pursue certification and experience in working with those students. The students are the ones who need the best language and cultural role models. And who knows? With earlier intervention and clear language models, it may be that those students make greater progress in acquiring both languages improving academic performance.”

Citing changes in federal and state statutes, Slappey says, “It is not a trend limited to teachers of the deaf, but part of the overall trend. To realize a true change in the supply, the teaching profession needs to be made more attractive as a career choice. Such things as better compensation, better working conditions, less bureaucracy, and less paperwork would go a long way to that extent. It’s a huge order to attempt to implement.”

‘Grow Our Own’
Despite the hurdles, Dr. Geeslin believes he has the solution to ensuring stronger roots and equality at deaf schools.

“15 years ago, I went to the National Association for the Deaf conference and ran into a friend, Lindsay Dunn. Given that I’ve always tried to look at things from outside of the box even as a teacher, I had been thinking about the lack of diversity at ISD. So I asked Lindsay how we could bring more African-Americans to the school. He said, ‘I have the answer. First, what did you do to recruit them?’ I told him that we had asked many people, but none ever applied. He then asked if we had a strong black deaf community, and I said we did not. He asked if we had any black deaf teachers. I again said we did not. He said, ‘There you have it. You have to grow your own first.’”

Profoundly affected by this revelation, Dr. Geeslin’s outlook changed. “Thanks to Lindsay, I have tried to ensure that we grow our own by encouraging staff, students and parents to invest in the community, and making sure that they understand they are investments themselves, too. We have to do this to create a community to which people of all types want to return and continue the work previous generations did. This is one reason ISD has grown so much in such a short time – because we grow our own.”

The fact that more schools have broken the 50 percent mark comes as good news to Sipek, who graduated Gallaudet University in 2004 and now works at the university. “I’m thrilled to know that there are more role models for deaf and hard of hearing children at residential schools. This closes a much-needed gap, but like most things, there is always room for more. I think this increase in staff numbers has been a long time coming.”

My thoughts:

This article first came about in 1997 when Brian Sipek asked me to see how many schools had deaf people employed at deaf schools. I agreed, and set out to collect the data. I was surprised at the amount of resistance from schools in giving me the statistics I asked for – something that was also true this time around. But I was even more surprised at the staggeringly low numbers – and how defensive some schools were about the numbers even though I hadn’t said a word. My questions were simple: 1. How many students attend your school? 2. How many people do you employ? 3. How many of those staff members are deaf or hard of hearing?

Those who did not try to justify their low percentages were the ones who had outstanding attitudes, were upfront about this being a concern, and worked hard to change the numbers.

I am beyond thrilled to see how the numbers have grown since 1997, even if only a few have broken the 50 percent barrier. I should also point out that the numbers of deaf and hard of hearing teachers and dorm staff at many schools are quite high, and that the low numbers usually stemmed from cafeteria workers, maintenance, and administration. This is in no way an excuse; we should have deaf employees in each of these categories, too.

As Sipek commented, we still have a long way to go. Regardless of changing needs and times, we must continue to promote the increased hiring of qualified deaf people in key positions at every level. After all, paraphrasing Lindsay Dunn, it’s the only way we can grow our own.

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This article originally appeared at i711.com

For years, I faithfully defended myself.

“Hey, I like what it provides. I’m not going to give up a good thing,” I’d protest without caring what others thought of me. I was called naïve, behind the times, and a fool.

Today, I am admitting defeat.

I’m giving up on T-Mobile. Over the past few weeks, T-Mobile Sidekick users have been dealing with an onslaught of horrible services – being in full coverage but not sending/receiving, and seeing its “fetch e-mail” feature disabled, to name two. (And I know it’s actually Danger who provides the service for Sidekicks. Doesn’t matter to me.)

A bit about the feature I like the most on my Sidekick 3: users can set up POP accounts on your Sidekick to be “retrieved from” their e-mail servers every 20 to 30 minutes or so. In the past, because this 20-minute interval was too slow, I manually retrieved my e-mail by pressing MENU + U. About two months ago, I suddenly couldn’t do this anymore, so I called T-Mobile. They said it was a server issue on their end, and it would be fixed within a week. That was two months ago.

Last Saturday, I called again. Without this feature, it’s difficult for me to run my company when I’m away from the computer. Every customer representative I spoke with did not understand what this feature was, then denied it was down and insisted it was a coverage issue, and then claimed it was limited to my house only when I mentioned that my husband was unable to access his Gmail account on his pager like he had in the past. Never mind that every out-of-state friend who uses this feature is having the same problem.

After an hour and half and countless “Please hold while I check on that” responses, the (supposedly) top-tier supervisor said, “We do not guarantee the POP e-mail feature. We only guarantee the tmail address, the AIM program, and the other buttons on your screen. But for additional accounts you set up on your own, we do not guarantee this.” When I asked to have the contract termination fee removed ($200, folks), given that T-Mobile was not performing to the level I was paying for, the supervisor repeated, “We do not guarantee…”

When I talked with other Sidekick users, they had the same problem. “But we’re stuck in our contracts,” they said, “and we just have to wait it out.” I thought I’d do the same, even though my contract doesn’t expire until August 2008.

But then I got to thinking. Didn’t T-Mobile cater to deaf people in the past, given that we were their largest specialized customer base? There used to be T-Mobile representatives at every deaf event. When I was living in Chicago, there was even a local T-Mobile representative exclusive to the deaf community. Where are they these days? And why aren’t we doing anything about this terrible service from T-Mobile? Why are we simply calling T-Mobile (in a few cases) and asking for credit, sometimes without success? Why aren’t we mobilizing a letter-writing or some kind of e-mail campaign? Are we simply too lazy or do we think we’re too unimportant?

I did a Google search to see if I was the only one having frustrations. I found quite a few websites, but what amazed me was that T-Mobile has “catapulted to the top of J.D. Power’s rankings of customer care in the wireless industry. It has now won the biannual title six times in a row,” says this article.

Sure, T-Mobile representatives are obviously well-trained in customer service – they always say, “Can I call you Trudy? How are you today, Trudy?” But that means diddly-squat to me when they don’t know what they’re talking about. Case in point: last Saturday’s call, when I went through four or five representatives who had no clue, even though the ‘fetch e-mail’ feature is in the instructions, on the Internet and listed in the menu on the pager itself. Besides, I know I’m not the only one who has called about their ridiculously slow service the past few months. So why hasn’t anything changed? Why is this still happening? Why hasn’t anything been posted on DeafRead or on blogs in order to try and get this fixed?

Deaf people are among T-Mobile’s most valuable customers, and T-Mobile must realize that pagers for deaf people are crucial.For me, my Sidekick is quite literally is a lifeline, given that I have my first child due in the next three weeks. Because of T-Mobile’s unreliable service, my husband and I have had to set up alternate communication methods in case we’re not together when labor starts.

T-Mobile needs to get its act together for its Sidekick users, but first, we Sidekick users need to get our act together in mobilizing some kind of campaign demanding better services. Otherwise, we have no right to complain about shelling out money every month for sub-par performance.

So, who wants to start?

How to send a letter or e-mail to T-Mobile:

Customer Relations
PO Box 37380
Albuquerque, NM 87176-7380
E-mail: http://support.t-mobile.com/caseSubmitForm.html

They also list a TTY number and other contact methods.

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This article originally appeared at i711.com.

As someone who has traveled the nation presenting on a variety of topics, I figured I’d share some words of wisdom and list the top ten things to do when working with presenters. A quick disclaimer: These tips are written for those who coordinate presenters. I also have a list of tips for the actual presenters, but that’s a different article.

1. Have bottled water ready. Have bottled water ready for presenters. This should be a no-brainer, but it apparently isn’t. I arrived at an out-of-state presentation only to find that there was no water, nor a vending machine. The annoyed coordinator went to the sink and got tap water that was muddy in a smeared glass. I didn’t drink it. (After the presentation, he also gave me a crumpled up check that he dug out from his disgustingly tight jeans.) I’ve learned to bring my own water, but when traveling, that isn’t always possible. So put out bottled water and make everyone happy.

2. Have a welcome packet ready at check-in or registration. Once, my plane was terribly delayed and I arrived at the deserted hotel at 11 p.m. I had no idea of where I was to go the next morning, and only learned of my workshop time and location by watching the hotel closed-circuit television. Have a welcome packet ready at check-in. Include all details, such as time and location of the presentation, who the contact folks are, and local details, such as restaurants open late at night. Keep in mind that deaf presenters may not always have access to the phone even on their laptops, especially if the hotel’s Internet connection isn’t working.

3. Treat presenters like royalty. At a deaf state association conference, I saw out of the corner of my eye a committee member saying to an attendee, “I have no idea…she’s from Minnesota, I guess? I think she’s hearing? Her presentation will probably be boring.” The attendee nodded knowingly and said, “Thanks, I won’t go…”

I walked up to the duo and said with a big smile, “I’m deaf, and my presentation won’t be boring!” They both looked horrified that I had caught their conversation. I saw them talking later in a corner about how much they had learned from my presentation.

Have committee members read the biography of each presenter, and even if the workshop seems dull, encourage people to go. Hold a pre-conference session with committee members to share information about presentations. Have committee members ask if the presenters need anything, if they’ve met their contact person, and if they know where their workshops will be held.

4. Always include combination and banquet tickets in the presenter’s compensation. I’ve been surprised time after time when I hear of events that don’t include banquet or combination tickets in the compensation. Even if the banquet itself is pricey, involve the presenter as much as possible by inviting participation in all conference events.

5. Move heaven and earth to make sure the workshop room is exactly what the presenter needs. At another conference, the room temperature dropped to 50 degrees during my workshop. After a while, blankets were brought for everyone, but the participants were already wearing coats and gloves. The opposite happened last week, though: the room steadfastly stayed at about 74 degrees, and we all sweated throughout the day-long training. Make sure the room is at a reasonable temperature, and that the presenter can tweak the temperature and/or lighting.

6. Never schedule a lesser-known presenter against a high-profile presenter. At a local event, a video relay services (VRS) provider was scheduled at the same time as a renowned linguistics expert. As a result, the VRS workshop had four participants, while the rest of the 150 conference-goers went to the other presentation. Always balance the presentations out. Otherwise, the lesser-known presenter ends up feeling slighted.

7. Have handouts and equipment confirmed at least a week prior to the event. I sent in my handouts, equipment requests and other information four months prior to an event. Upon arrival at the room an hour early, I saw an overhead projector instead of a LCD projector. I notified the equipment coordinator, who insisted it was my fault. When he took a look at my papers stating that I had requested a LCD projector, he walked out without apology. A student representative brought back the LCD for me two minutes prior to the event, barely enough time for me to hook everything up.

Apparently, they also “forgot” my handouts, which were part of workshop activities. I finally got the first set of handouts 10 minutes into my standing-room-only workshop, and got the final set about two hours later. I found out later that all of the presenters had encountered the same problems.

Arrange all the logistics at least three weeks prior to the event. Then a week prior, send the presenter a checklist including hotel reservation information, address and directions, conference coordinators’ contact information, and workshop details.

8. Assign a representative to each presenter. Have a committee member assigned to each presenter; this individual becomes responsible for staying during the workshop and getting water, making extra copies, adjusting room temperatures, or simply providing support.

9. Provide evaluation summaries to the presenter. I love evaluations, because they help me gauge the quality and success of my presentations. Create a summary showing how many participated, summaries of each question/answer, and other comments, and send the summary within two weeks.

10. Pay right away if possible. I once had to wait almost a year before I was reimbursed for a presentation. Their excuse? They didn’t have checks printed yet. The best method I’ve seen utilized at several events is to give the presenter an appreciation gift and a thank-you card with the check enclosed. That’s classy.

So, there you have it. There are so many horror stories from both event coordinators and presenters. The bottom line is everyone wants a successful event.

Just don’t forget the water.

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This article originally appeared at i711.com.

There seems to be a little secret at many deaf schools across the nation.

Apparently, if you want to work at a deaf school, you have to be either a local hearing person or have someone on the inside to pull you in. Okay, maybe this isn’t such a secret after all. It’s frustrating, though, in so many ways.

Time after time, I learn of people, deaf or hearing, hired at deaf schools only because they had friends in the personnel office or knew someone who had influence within human resources. I also constantly learn of people who were passed over simply because the job was never posted publicly, or because the school decided to hire from within.

Sure, this happens at schools and companies everywhere. That’s why so many employment trainers emphasize the importance of networking. Still, for state-funded deaf schools, we gotta be reasonable. Shouldn’t it be the school’s responsibility to create opportunities for deaf people in an environment where deaf people are the pillars of the school? If deaf folks can’t even get jobs at deaf schools, what message does this send?

The problem with this common practice is that most of the people who work within human resources or personnel aren’t deaf. At the majority of deaf schools I’ve visited or met people from, the human resources folks can barely sign. They’re not quite in the know about how to really reach out to the deaf community, nor do they really care. They don’t quite realize – although they may have a vague understanding – how critical jobs at deaf schools are to a lot of deaf folks.

There’s a person I know (actually, I know a lot of people in similar situations) who has an outstanding resume, excellent references and amazing experience. Yet because this person doesn’t have any direct ties to the deaf school in the state he lives in, he’s constantly passed over for jobs for one reason. He simply never is told of the jobs, even though an application is on file and he has often contacted the (hearing) superintendent and human resources office. I keep thinking after I hear about every job he’s passed over for, “My goodness, what are they missing out on?” I’ve seen this individual at work, and he’s ethical, a graduate of the school, fluent in American Sign Language and English, and well-deserving of any job he wants.

Every time I hear of yet another job being filled without appropriate advertisement, I feel almost stabbed in the heart. Although I have never applied for nor worked at a deaf school – aside from substitute teaching a few years ago – I know firsthand the impact and importance of having qualified deaf folks working at deaf schools. I also know the importance of reaching out to the deaf community for any vacant position.

Typically, state-funded positions, like those at deaf schools, are required to meet specific criteria and then submit the position to the state employment agency. People are then expected to check the state agency’s website or job database on a regular basis to see if a job opens up. Some states even allow applications to be put on file and will alert the applicants when their desired position(s) are available.

We won’t even get into how many job announcements are never physically posted on bulletin boards or passed around. And of course, state employment websites aren’t updated regularly. Bureaucracy aside, this simply isn’t right.

Given the vast geographical diversity within the deaf community, so many deaf people live in various states and want to relocate to be closer to (or farther away from) family. Or maybe they’ve met someone new in another state and want to begin a new life. If they don’t know anyone at the deaf school, or aren’t perceived as high priority because they’re not in-state, they’re pretty much screwed. Unless, of course, they have a contact in the personnel office, or went to college with an employee at that school who can rush their applications through.

Say a deaf applicant doesn’t have access to the web, and lives in another state. How does he find out about job opportunities? Maybe he calls the human resources office, but he can’t do that every week – the office would get annoyed of his calls. Or maybe he does have access to the Internet, but the website doesn’t update its information. Or maybe he gets the information, but his application is lost in the shuffle The list goes on forever. Yet the solution is so simple: be fair and as far-reaching as possible when announcing job vacancies.

This is fairly easy to accomplish. Post job announcements outside of the school by posting them on websites or in mainstream publications and e-zines. Physically post job announcements on bulletin boards and leave copies with various school offices and deaf organization offices. Place neutral people on interview committees who are open-minded and have minimal biases. Don’t get stuck in the “local is better” thinking; there might just be that ideal, out-of-state employee who brings nothing but good things to the school.

The real secret is that a school’s hiring practices send a loud message about what type of school it is.

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