An Epilogue: Can I Speak Now?

This is a follow-up to an article I was invited to write for the NAD Monograph in 1997. To read the original piece, click here.

“A year to the day I was born, PL 94-142 was created. That’s when bureaucrats began to speak for me.”


– From the 1997 “Can I Speak Now?” article 

My Can I Speak Now? piece, written over 15 years ago, is one of my most popular articles. People often tell me that what I shared resonated with them because they, too, had similar experiences and frustrations. As I reread it today, I find it interesting how my perspectives have changed only slightly. The biggest change in my perspectives—at least until 2026—is that I will speak for my deaf children, but nobody else. It fascinates me how my children’s educational experiences are already so different from mine, and yet so similar.

I have chosen to enroll my four children—the oldest being five and the youngest being one—at a deaf school, because it’s clearly the best environment for them at this point in their lives. I also love the close-knit community here. But what I am most grateful for is my children’s unfettered access to communication 24 hours a day in school and at home. This comes from a Deaf-centric—and child-centric—educational environment and home environment.

With that said, one comment I got in response to the 1997 article stands out. Back in 1998, I shared the article with a mother of a deaf six-year-old; I was her supervisor at my then-job at a nonprofit agency serving the deaf community. She was still somewhat coming to terms with her child being deaf, and had chosen an ASL environment for her child’s education.

After she read the article, I asked for her thoughts. Her response was that I “sounded so angry like most deaf people.” This was the last thing I expected her to say, especially given our shared views on deaf education and communication options. Now, in retrospective, I realize it was because she was still new to the community and didn’t yet fully understand that this article and my experiences weren’t written in anger. Rather, it was a honest look at how the educational system has been for so many deaf people. Interestingly enough, later that year during a meeting with me, she got upset at not receiving a pay raise. As I looked away at the end of the meeting, she grabbed my jaw and turned my face so I’d look at her. Looking back at that incident, I realize now she was the one dealing with anger and I happened to be the nearest outlet for her.  I’d love to talk with her today and see if she still has the same perspectives she did back then. Her child is now college-aged, and doing very well from what I understand.

Back to the point: I continue to speak only for myself, because we each have such different experiences, perspectives and needs. I only hope that my children will grow up to become the best experts on what they need—not school professionals, not my husband or me, not anyone else. When they can speak for themselves, that’s when I’ll know I’ve done my job as a parent.

Black cloud no more?

This article originally appeared in Gallaudet University’s The Buff and Blue’s Oct. 24, 2009 issue.

When I went through my father’s things after his death, I found newspaper clippings about Gallaudet. They were mostly about the Deaf President Now (DPN) protest, but one stood out. It was from 1986, when Gallaudet College became Gallaudet University.

I was surprised that my father had even saved the article. My father, who was academically dismissed from Gallaudet in 1972, was not by any means what we would call a remarkable community leader. Rather, he was quite ordinary; he had an entry-level job with the state and rarely went to deaf events outside of town.

Yet he felt that Gallaudet’s accreditation as a university was noteworthy enough to save a clipping about. This, to me, speaks volumes about the influence of Gallaudet.

Alumni and students alike are constantly bombarded with dazzling publicity about the world’s only liberal arts university for deaf students. Recruiting materials highlight carefully selected students and alumni – each with a determined look or a sunny smile – who come from every cranny and nook of the world. It’s easy to get drawn into how great Gallaudet is and not consider the effects that the university’s antics and accomplishments have upon ordinary people like my father.

Gallaudet had such an impact upon me long before I became a student. When the DPN protest took place, I was a freshman in high school; the protest greatly influenced how hearing peers and “teachers of the hearing impaired” at my high school perceived us deaf students. Years later, I am friends with many of the DPN leaders but I still get starry-eyed around them. Although there are so many more opportunities today that we no longer perceive as remarkable like they were decades ago, I continue to be in awe of so many deaf people and their ordinary and not-so-ordinary accomplishments. This sense of awe is something I hope to never let go of ever again.

I say again because I lost that feeling once, in 2006. The outrage and deep division over the presidential selection in 2006 had been simmering for years. Despite media reports and what some people said, the anger that surfaced wasn’t an overnight thing. In fact, I remember exactly when I began feeling disillusioned about the division at Gallaudet: during my husband’s graduation in 1993.

You see, he was among the wide-eyed freshmen at Gallaudet in 1988 when DPN took place. By 1993, the last of these freshmen had graduated, taking with them the pride and sense of entitlement that DPN had instilled in deaf people everywhere. As I watched the graduation ceremony, I was sad that the DPN veterans wouldn’t be students anymore, because they were the movers and shakers then. They would call the university out on unfair situations, and constantly kept the administration on its toes – but they always made sure everything was done with a positive attitude. I was fortunate to have Mary Malzkuhn – often called the “Mother of DPN” –as my academic adviser and teacher for my government classes, which were filled with many DPN veterans. I learned so much from them and was always excited to be in their presence because they were superstars to me. Watching them march across the stage that day, I wondered if future classes would understand the sparkle that existed immediately after DPN. When I came on campus in 1991, I was blown away by how everyone was so confident about his or her roles at Gallaudet. They had the right to be there and had the right to expect nothing but the very best in communication access, in educational quality, and in respect.

By the time I graduated in 1995, there was a growing black cloud hanging over the university, a cloud of fear. The division between students and the administration was deepening at an alarming rate. I frequently saw faculty and staff being pulled in two directions. People quit or were fired. There was a lot of underground talk about the administration’s intimidation tactics. Still, I was no longer a student so I figured I didn’t need to pay much attention.

A few years later, I finally understood this intimidation firsthand. When I was the editor at Silent News, Ryan Commerson told me that the university was closing the television and film program. I assigned a writer to the story, and she contacted the administration for a statement. She got a response that essentially freaked her out, and she forwarded it to me in a panic. I read the e-mail and was astonished by the contents.

The e-mail threatened Silent News with a lawsuit if we proceeded with the story. The writer hadn’t even asked any hard-hitting questions. What had started as a somewhat dull news story was now a controversy. This was a signal that something was terribly wrong at the university, that this was a politically fueled approach by the administration. I responded and said that this was Gallaudet’s opportunity to clear up misunderstandings about the program’s closure (or as they called it, merger with another program). The administration’s response remained unchanged: that a lawsuit would be filed if we went ahead with the story.

Not one who easily backs down, I gave the go-ahead to run the story. Just as I had predicted, the lawsuit was an empty threat. But that e-mail exchange was the perfect indicator of what was to come, especially considering how an administrator involved in that e-mail exchange was at the center of the storm in 2006.

Regardless of what people felt about the 2006 protest, it was a catalyst for change, one that was and is desperately needed. Although bitterness is rampant in the blogsphere/vlogsphere, I sense that most people are ready for positive change. At least, I know I am. This positive change is part of why President Davila has been so warmly welcomed and so successful in taking care of business. More importantly, he has brought back something that was missing for too long: integrity.

Whoever the new president is – at the time of this writing, the president hadn’t been announced yet – he or she must strengthen this integrity immediately. The new president must ensure that the faculty, staff, students and alumni can see this integrity in action.  These groups must be inspired to carry the same integrity and pride in our identity, our language, and our culture.

I’m optimistic that any one of the four candidates will help dissolve the black cloud that has hung over Gallaudet for at least a decade. Having said that, it is crucial that the new president be a mover and shaker, unafraid to create an ideological change that brings back the pride we once had. For me, what will affirm that the new president is doing the job is when ordinary citizens begin saving clippings about Gallaudet’s accomplishments once again.

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‘Non-traditional’ students are becoming the norm

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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Protests 1,000 miles away have local ties

This article originally appeared in the Faribault Daily News, Faribault, MN.

FARIBAULT – More than 1,000 miles away from Faribault, protests at Gallaudet University, the world’s only liberal arts university for deaf people, in Washington, D.C., have been of keen interest to local residents.

When Dr. Jane K. Fernandes, a deaf woman, was chosen as the university’s ninth president, protests erupted on campus in May and again this month. Students and faculty shut down the school’s main academic building and blocked entry to the campus before being arrested.

The protests stem from claims that the presidential search process was flawed, and faculty, staff, students and alumni have pointed to Dr. Fernandes’ turbulent track record as provost and drastic drops in academic achievements during her administration. On Monday, 82 percent of the faculty voted that Dr. Fernandes resign as president or be removed; last spring, 68 percent of the faculty voted no confidence in Dr. Fernandes. Current university president Dr. I. King Jordan has insisted that the president-select will not step down.

Faribault has a large number of Gallaudet alumni and prospective students who have kept a close eye on the events in Washington.

“I support the protest because Gallaudet needs a capable leader. Jane Fernandes has proven she cannot lead,” said Bobby Siebert, a senior at MSAD. “When the protest first started, it took maybe more than a week before Jane came in contact with the protestors. She didn’t take action and preferred to talk with the media instead. What kind of leader is that?”

His sister, Amy, is a MSAD graduate and a freshman at the university.

“There are so many reasons the protests are happening. The process in selecting the next president was flawed,” she said, referring to objections that the selection process was rushed and unreasonable. “The protest has been going on for a long time. This is pretty frustrating. And Jane has done nothing. This is not something a president would do.” The Sieberts’ parents are also graduates of the university.

One week ago, upon Dr. Jordan’s orders, 135 protesters were arrested, including several Minnesotans, such as Priscilla Saunders’ sister. Saunders, a Gallaudet alumna whose 5-year-old son is seventh-generation deaf and attends MSAD, said, “My sister asked me first if she should join the people getting arrested, and I told her it wasn’t a good idea but the more people I knew who were getting arrested, I then encouraged her to be involved. When she was bailed out, she e-mailed me saying it was worth it. My heart was set on attending Gallaudet since I was three, four years old. Now my heart’s aching on how the president and the upcoming president have been handling this situation.”

The mother of three deaf children and a Gallaudet graduate herself, Lisa Skjeveland explained the impact of the protests. “Gallaudet University is part of our Deaf community and we have the duty to help protect the futures of our deaf children. Gallaudet was and is still very much part of my life. It has opened up a world of friends and connections with many bright deaf people.”

Bobby Siebert added, “Gallaudet has a major impact upon MSAD. Some of our students aspire to be future Gallaudet students, and many teachers and faculty members are Gallaudet alumni. So much of the Faribault community has ties to Gallaudet. I admit I do feel uneasy. Gallaudet’s my future college, and to have its future in doubt frightens me. Still, I feel that the protest’s cause is justified and I want it to continue until we find better leaders at Gallaudet.”

A Year Later: “Deeply Disappointed” But Optimistic (Part II)

This article originally appeared at www.deafprofessional.net.

An exclusive interview with Dr. Glenn Anderson

This is the second installment of a two-part article. The first installment appeared on September 7, 2006.

When Dr. Anderson stepped down as Gallaudet University board chair in November 2005 in order to apply for the university presidency, his interim replacement was Celia May Baldwin, a 1970 Gallaudet graduate. However, facing the wrath and scrutiny of thousands of people infuriated by the presidential search process and selection was too much for Baldwin, who resigned on May 9. “My heart goes out to her,” Dr. Anderson says, noting that their friendship dates back to their days as Gallaudet undergraduates. “She did not deserve to have her tenure as interim chair of the board cut short due to threats and duress related to the search process.”

Baldwin’s replacement was acting board president, Dr. Brenda Jo Brueggemann, who seemed an unusual choice, given her mediocre (or some claim, utter lack of) sign language skills. Yet, in what seems to be a twist of irony, Dr. Brueggemann chairs the American Sign Language (ASL) department at Ohio State University. Dr. Anderson is philosophical about her appointment. “Dr. Brueggemann is in an unenviable position. I doubt she imagined herself suddenly being thrust into position of chair at this point in her tenure of service on the board.” He adds that a new chair will likely be chosen soon; board guidelines dictate that the permanent chair be someone who is fluent in ASL and preferably deaf.

Today, more than a year after President Jordan’s predictable announcement, Dr. Anderson has had time to reflect. Would he have made the same choices as the board had he stayed in his position as chair? His answer may surprise people who think Dr. Anderson was “Gallaudetized”—that is, constantly going along with the university’s status quo.

“Your question calls for speculation and that is always a risky type of venture,” he answers. “Evidently, I would not have been happy with the announcement of the three finalists. I would have expected more and I would not have supported going forward with the three finalists selected by the search committee at the time they did. My preference would have been to ask the board to support requesting the search committee to extend the search. I would have preferred closer adherence to searching for a pool of candidates who possessed the desired qualifications listed in the position announcement—e.g., significant experience in higher education and possessing an earned terminal degree. And at this time in our history, I would also have preferred more intense efforts be made to ensure diversity was adequately reflected among the candidates.”

Throughout all this, Dr. Fernandes has continued to be a chief source of discontent for FSSA, who continued to meet throughout the summer and presented two workshops at the National Association of the Deaf conference. Members of FSSA insist that President Jordan ignored many of their requests and pleas over the years, especially after Dr. Fernandes became provost of the university. Blog after blog states specific examples of how Dr. Fernandes created a great divide among students and faculty and the administration while President Jordan turned a blind eye. Dr. Anderson is hesitant to speculate yet once again. “I believe one has to be on campus on a daily basis to have insight into this. Dr. Jordan’s legacy was already well established as a result of the success of Deaf President Now and his phenomenal achievements during his nearly 18 years as president. However, as he nears the end of his tenure at Gallaudet, it is regretful that the university finds itself mired in divisiveness over the selection of a successor.”

Even so, this division is why Dr. Anderson and 1988-1994 board chair Phil Bravin wrote an open letter to the board last May. Parts of the letter read:

As former chairs of the Gallaudet Board of Trustees, we are looking at the present situation with a heavy heart, knowing how the Board needs to show its resolve and at the same time act in the best interests of the University… (The full letter may be read here).

In any event, we are leaning towards the position that this is not a deafness or cultural issue, but is emerging as a leadership issue and more importantly, the ability to maintain leadership over time in the next weeks, months and years to come.

The events of the past week and a half has caused great concern on our part of the long term bridges that Gallaudet has to maintain with its constituencies. These bridges have been weakened, and the current state of affairs, if not changed, will cause these bridges to weaken further, and to rebuild these would require more energy and effort that could otherwise be used to make Gallaudet the great University it deserves to be.

…we urge you to do your very best to resolve the current stalemate and reach resolutions that are in the best interests of the University. The time is now to begin a process of healing.

“I believe the message that Phil and I attempted to convey in our letter to the board last May remains timely and relevant today,” Dr. Anderson states. “I would much rather the final months of Jordan’s tenure be a time for reflection and celebration of his long and illustrious career as the university transitions to a new era of presidential leadership.”

Bonded by their Gallaudet ties and love of sports, Dr. Anderson and President Jordan were often seen together at events around the country. Now that Dr. Anderson is no longer a member of the Board of Trustees, he admits he misses the regular interactions he had with President Jordan. “My years of working closely with him on behalf of our alma mater were special and I will always treasure that,” he says thoughtfully. “I know Dr. Jordan is deeply committed to Gallaudet and it is commendable that he plans to continue to serve the university long after he retires. Since we have known each other since our college days, I am not inclined to presume my friendship with Dr. Jordan has been adversely affected by the outcome of the search process. I simply wish the search process had resulted in a more celebratory type of outcome that united rather than divided Gallaudet and its constituencies.”

Dr. Anderson also wants to believe President Jordan’s claim that he had no involvement in the selection of the finalists. “I think the real issue has more to do with what occurred after the three finalists were announced and forums were held on campus. I am aware there has been a persistent barrage of comments, on the Internet for example, in which people wondered about his neutrality,” Dr. Anderson says. “Some feel he was not sufficiently neutral during the search process. Whether he was or not, I do not know. However, these concerns continue to persist and have yet to subside. As a result, I think these concerns are additional factors that contributed to the lack of broad unanimity regarding the search process.”

Today, although still perplexed about the search process, Dr. Anderson is content with his contributions to Gallaudet. “I was pleased to work with Dr. Jordan, the Development Office, the Board of Trustees, the Board of Associates, and numerous Gallaudet stakeholders in support of the first and most successful capital campaign that resulted in over $39 million in contributions.” He adds that another accomplishment was forming a board ad hoc committee that resulted in the development of a board statement on diversity. “I also take pride in the fact that during my tenure, Dr. Jordan gave high priority to recruiting outstanding students and faculty as well as to enhancing and ensuring the attractiveness of the university’s campus as new buildings and renovation projects were undertaken.”

In spite of the developments over the past year, Dr. Anderson continues to be upbeat about what the future holds. “I will remain busy as ever. Most certainly, I will continue my work at the University of Arkansas. We have submitted new federal funding applications and I am excited about the new projects we have proposed,” he says. “I also will continue to serve as vice-chair of the National Council on Disability as well as remain actively involved as a board member with NBDA and the Arkansas Association of the Deaf.” He notes that both he and his wife, Karen, are eager about attending University of Arkansas football games, where their son, Jamaal, is a junior and a starting defensive end. He also looks forward to having more time to spend with their daughter, Danielle and 10-year-old granddaughter Nia, who reside in Virginia.

Optimistic that Gallaudet can heal from this search process, Dr. Anderson is still somewhat cautious. “As Phil and I mentioned in our letter, it will take much hard work, good faith, and give and take from all concerned parties,” he says. “The question is how quickly Gallaudet can heal. That I do not know, but I do hope it happens soon.”

Note: National Black Deaf Advocates was contacted for this article; they did not return our requests. NBDA’s open letters and position papers regarding the presidential search process may be found at their website.

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A Year Later: “Deeply Disappointed” But Optimistic (Part I)

This article originally appeared at www.deafprofessional.net.

An exclusive interview with Dr. Glenn Anderson

This is the first installment of a two-part article. The second installment appeared on September 21, 2006.

Hardly anybody batted an eyelash when Gallaudet University president Dr. I. King Jordan took the stage on September 1, 2005 to announce his December 2006 retirement, nearly two decades after suddenly being thrust into the international spotlight as the university’s first deaf president after the historical Deaf President Now protest. Even though this announcement didn’t come as a shocker, people across the nation began gossiping about whom the replacement would be. Hopeful applicants began preparing their resumes, including Dr. Glenn Anderson—who would potentially become the university’s first president of color in its 142-year history.

Dr. Anderson, who served as the Gallaudet Board of Trustees chair for 11 years, saw a glimmer of hope in his quest to become the nation’s first Black deaf college president. He was a finalist for the highest position at the National Technical Institute for the Deaf at the Rochester Institute of Technology in New York, but wasn’t selected. Now another golden opportunity presented itself, one that was too good to pass up. Dr. Anderson was optimistic about his chances.

Once the board chose one of its own members, 1974 Gallaudet graduate Pamela Holmes, to lead its presidential search committee on Oct. 6, Dr. Anderson began considering the possibility of resigning from the board in order to become a potential candidate. Tension ran high among community members, who wildly guessed the potential candidates. Names were thrown around: Roz Rosen, Robert Davila, Jamie Tucker. Dr. Anderson’s name came up often. There was a person who everyone knew was applying: Dr. Jane K. Fernandes, who was often called Jordan’s personal puppet throughout her term as university provost. Students and faculty didn’t appreciate her. Nobody wanted to believe she would be taken seriously as a candidate; in fact, many doubted she would make it into the final round. Even if she did make it in, they said, it was only because of her everlasting loyalty to President Jordan.

When the 17-member presidential search committee was revealed on Nov. 9, people learned that the committee was comprised of six board members, in addition to two students, two alumni, two staff, four faculty members, and one Clerc Center employee. People were perplexed at the composition of the committee; many committee members were labeled President Jordan’s cronies. Approximately a week before the committee membership was announced, Dr. Anderson did what everyone was waiting for: he submitted his resignation as chair in order to become a candidate for the presidency.

The anticipation in the air was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Rumors continued to be thrown around casually with as much power as a sledgehammer hitting the crumbling structures at Gallaudet. Names of applicants began to leak, much to people’s delight. Gallaudet watchers began mudslinging anonymously on blogs. Even Fernandes’ husband didn’t hesitate to jump on the bandwagon and wrote comments in support of his wife, much to the amusement of many.

In early April, Dr. Anderson learned that he had survived the first round, along with five other candidates: Dr. Fernandes, Dr. William Marshall, Ron Stern, Dr. Bobbie Beth Scoggins, and Dr. Steve Weiner. It was pretty much a given that Dr. Anderson would make it to the final round; after all, he been on the board for 16 years, 11 as chair—and he was the only applicant of color. Gallaudet had battled cries of discrimination for years; the university wouldn’t dare shoot itself in the foot by having an all-white line-up—or would it?

Yes, it would. After weeks of water cooler and kitchen conversations everywhere, the announcement came. On April 13, the names rolled off people’s hands as they excitedly fingerspelled to each other, “Weiner, Stern and Fernandes.” Although the focus was mostly on Dr. Fernandes, an underlying issue was that none of the finalists was persons of color—specifically, Dr. Anderson.

Angry people and organizations began crying foul. How could Gallaudet, located in a predominantly Black neighborhood, not choose any qualified candidates who were persons of color? And how did a finalist without a doctoral degree make it through to the final round? Questions began flying around out of astonishment and dismay. Students and staff who had experienced working with Dr. Fernandes began talking about the unimaginable: what if Dr. Fernandes was indeed hired? That couldn’t happen. . .or could it? Some went as far as claiming that the process was fixed, recalling that Dr. Jordan had unintentionally referred to Dr. Fernandes as “. . .the president—uh, the provost. . .” at his retirement announcement. This indicated, they said, that Dr. Fernandes already had the inside track as the next president.

Whether this was true or not, this wasn’t of importance to many. What National Black Deaf Advocates (NBDA) and many diversity supporters were more concerned about was the pressing question of why Dr. Anderson wasn’t in the final round. People began speculating about how Dr. Anderson must have felt, given his extensive involvement with the university and his qualifications. NBDA issued a position paper on April 24 “describing our concerns regarding the issue of diversity and again reiterating our support for Dr. Glenn Anderson, based not on color but on his credentials and proven record of service to Gallaudet University.” Still, Dr. Anderson chose to remain silent throughout the ensuing months—until now.

“The reasons I was not selected as a finalist were not provided to me by the search committee. I know there were numerous rumors on blogs and Internet postings about me, ranging from comments such as my supposedly having health problems to my apparently ‘bombing’ the interview,” Dr. Anderson says.

Lest people think Dr. Anderson isn’t qualified, take a look at his experience. A Chicago native, he has an impressive background, having worked in higher education settings for over 30 years: 24 at the University of Arkansas, 7 at LaGuardia Community College of the City University of New York, and 3 at New York University. Dr. Anderson earned a bachelor’s degree at Gallaudet in 1968, then a master’s degree from the University of Arizona in 1970 followed by a doctorate from New York University in 1982.

Besides, Dr. Anderson points to the position description. “When taking all of the areas of desired qualifications into consideration from a more holistic rather than a ‘micro’ perspective, I believe I met most of them. I also presume one must expect that in any search process, candidates will be strong in some areas and not so strong in other areas. Search committees are thus challenged to use their best judgments in identifying and choosing the top candidates.”

With a sturdy background and a broad understanding of the deaf or hard of hearing and Gallaudet communities, how could Dr. Anderson have been eliminated from the final round? Didn’t his being the chair of the university board of trustees count for anything? People wanted to know, but no answer was given, not even to Dr. Anderson. Dr. Anderson was “deeply disappointed” when he learned he was not a finalist, and even more so when he learned who the three finalists were.

“My disappointment was not just for me personally, but also for the larger constituency of deaf people of color. I had hoped that by ‘stepping up to the plate,’ my successful progression through the search process would help open up more doors of opportunity for deaf people of color,” he explains. “When the announcement of the three finalists was made, I could not help but sense that the message being communicated to deaf people of color was that the door was not yet fully open. It seemed to reaffirm, at least from my perspective, that the glass ceiling to the upper echelons of leadership in higher education still remained to be overcome.”

Dr. Anderson isn’t capable only in terms of credentials; he’s also an active community member who has long been involved with NBDA, National Association of the Deaf, and Arkansas Association for the Deaf, along with an induction into the American Athletic Association of the Deaf Hall of Fame for basketball. He’s a role model for many, regardless of race, age or cultural affiliation.

Still, some people cite Dr. Anderson’s lack of university administration experience, apart from being a faculty member at various universities and serving as board chair, as a potential reason. Dr. Anderson nods as he says, “I was clearly aware that I had never had an opportunity to work on a day-to-day basis as a senior level executive in a university setting. In addition, I had not worked in positions that required me to assume direct responsibility for major fundraising campaigns. Nevertheless, my 36-year record of leadership and professional accomplishments was strong. I had a successful and productive career.”

Meanwhile, the three final candidates prepared for their campus-wide presentations. Dr. Weiner was given only a weekend, Stern a week, and Dr. Fernandes two weeks—which many said was a sign of bias in the process. Blogs reported on how Dr. Fernandes’ staff attended Dr. Weiner’s and Stern’s presentations, allegedly taking notes as the candidates spoke. As students, faculty/staff, alumni and friends of Gallaudet regularly checked blogs and Web sites, Dr. Anderson’s supporters began to try and draw attention to what they claimed was blatant discrimination. Their efforts were essentially overshadowed by the attention given to the final three candidates.

For weeks after the final three were announced, and then ultimately the selection of Dr. Fernandes as the university’s ninth president, protests took place on campus demanding the reopening of the presidential selection process. Rallies were held. Students set up a makeshift “Tent City” on the front grassy knoll of the university, shutting down the main entrance to campus. Students, faculty and alumni came together to express their outrage at the seemingly biased selection process; national media reported that the faculty gave a no-confidence vote to Fernandes as provost and as president on May 8, among other resolutions. The Faculty/Staff/Students/Alumni (FSSA) group was formed, with one goal in common among its members: the immediate reopening of the presidential search process. Time after time, in forums such as the GallyNet e-mail discussion group, the seemingly rushed selection of Dr. Fernandes was debated. Supporters on both sides of the issue bickered, throwing around conspiracy theories. Yet, Dr. Anderson remained in the background, declining comment, as did Dr. Weiner and Stern. Life resumed to normalcy—or what passed as normal, anyway. This didn’t mean Dr. Anderson didn’t identify with the protestors’ puzzlement and discontent, though.

“Although a decision has been made regarding selection of the ninth president of Gallaudet, I am empathic to the concerns expressed by FSSA and other stakeholders. The search process did occur over a rather ‘truncated’ period of time. In general, many presidential searches tend to transpire over longer and more engaged periods of time. The consequence of Gallaudet’s rather ‘truncated’ search process is that, unfortunately, it did not result in broad unanimity regarding the three finalists nor the final choice,” Dr. Anderson reflects. “However, I did not envision the outcome would result in the establishment of Tent City on campus.”

Buried deep in the outrage about Dr. Fernandes’ appointment were assertions that Dr. Anderson’s elimination was because of his skin color. Dr. Anderson is pensive about this. “One will never know if race was or was not a factor. Given Gallaudet’s rather public announcements about its commitment to diversity and its inclusion of diversity among its eight strategic goals, I would be extremely disappointed if race indeed was a factor in why I was not selected as a finalist. As I understand, the search committee was seeking candidates who fit a certain profile. My guess is that I apparently I did not completely fit the search committee’s ‘profile’ for the top candidates.”

A student during the 1960s civil rights era, Dr. Anderson experienced numerous incidents at Gallaudet that he rarely discusses openly. One such incident occurred with the class of 1968, in which Dr. Anderson actively participated through class meetings. He even paid membership dues used for outings at the end of the school year. “During my junior and senior years in 1967 and 1968, I did not go with my class on the spring outings,” he remembers. “I do not know exactly where they went for the outings, but I presume it was a place that had a private lake and other recreational opportunities. Members of my class had to inform me that the places they selected for the outings did not welcome Black people.”

Dr. Anderson was refunded half of his dues, which were used to go out to a restaurant with another Black student. “Over the years, I often wondered why the class was not willing to find a different place that would have allowed me to come with them,” he says. “Does discrimination and racism still exist today? I would say, yes, unfortunately it still exists. Perhaps it does not exist to the same extent or as overtly as during the time I was a student at Gallaudet, which was when the civil rights era was at its pinnacle and also during the time that Dr. Martin Luther King was assassinated and riots occurred all over the U.S.” He is quick to note that although prejudice still exists, “progress is going to be incremental. I am sure we’d agree that changing attitudes, feelings, and perceptions are not things that change overnight.”

Note: National Black Deaf Advocates was contacted for this article; they did not return our requests. NBDA’s open letters and position papers regarding the presidential search process may be found at its website.

Read more about Dr. Anderson’s perspectives on the presidential search process, the board composition and the future of Gallaudet in the next installment on September 21, only at Deaf Professional Network!

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Rx for Success

This article originally appeared in The Gallaudet Link’s Fall 2006 issue.

William “Tony” Gardner found his passion at Gallaudet.

“I took a chemistry class and fell in love with the field. Later, I realized there were too many specialties to pick from, but knew I liked to work with people, so I decided upon becoming a pharmacist.”

Dr. Michael Moore, then chair of the Chemistry Department, came to a class to talk about internships sponsored by the National Science Foundation. Tony decided to sign up for a ten-week chemistry internship at James Madison University (JMU) in Harrisburg, VA, a two-hour drive south of D.C.

The third-year chemistry student headed to JMU where he lived on campus for ten weeks during the summer. He, Dr. Moore and one other deaf student were provided with interpreters for meetings and laboratory work. “I had to do a lot of reading since I hadn’t taken a biochemistry course,” he said.

Tony’s JMU research project involved the use of an infrared instrument called the Bruker bioATR to study the muscle protein, myosin. Myosin is responsible for body movement and cell movement. It is dependent on Adenosine-Triphosphate (ATP) to produce a reaction that releases energy necessary to function. The Bruker bioATR instrument uses a laser to observe this reaction on a spectrum.

“My job was to use the Bruker to observe and find under what conditions, such as temperatures, this reaction will occur. My findings at the end of the summer were inconclusive; however, I did make some findings that I am interested in researching further should I return to JMU next summer.”

Although the results of his work won’t be seen for years, Tony is appreciative that he was part of an important endeavor.

The close-knit community during his internship also made him decide to continue his pharmacy studies at a small university after completing his undergraduate studies at Gallaudet.

“I like small classes where the professors and students are readily accessible, and actually have time for each other, like at Gallaudet,” he says. He is considering schools in the D.C. area, or in his home state of Florida.

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Space + Shuttle = Dream

This article originally appeared in The Gallaudet Link’s Fall 2006 issue.

It’s not often that students get to sit in an astronaut’s seat and experience a part of aeronautical history.

Julia Velasquez, of Oxnard, CA, got to do just that at the National Aeronautics and Space Administration (NASA) Kennedy Center in Cape Canaveral, FL, last summer as part of an internship. A biology major, this was Julia’s second internship with NASA, the first having been at NASA’s Goddard Space Flight Center as a research associate at the NASA Academy.

Julia’s work focused on evaluating various testing methods for achieving ideal water qualities. “Since you can’t test water in space, because of the different environment and other factors in space, most of the tests are done here on Earth,” she says.

“The astronauts’ sleeping quarters were a floor directly above me, and I saw the crew hanging around the building at times. I entered through the same doors that the astronauts did, and it was all so matter of fact. I was awestruck.”

Julia’s eyes light up with excitement as she describes the day she was allowed to enter and explore Atlantis, one of NASA’s three remaining space shuttles. “There are people who have worked at NASA for 20 years and have never been allowed inside an actual space shuttle.”

She was allowed to enter the orbiter of Atlantis as it was being prepared for launch in August. Security restrictions at the facility change frequently, depending on various factors.

She and her mentor were told to put ‘bunny suits’ on as protective gear. She climbed inside Atlantis, and even got to sit in the commander’s seat. “It was such a thrill to see all the buttons, to imagine what it was like for them to be thousands of miles into space in the same space craft.”

Julia was also able to visit locations such as Launch Pad 39B, the site of the space shuttle, Discovery, prior to its July launch, and walk on the pathway where the astronauts took their final steps before being strapped in for the ride of their lives.

“Witnessing the launch and landing of Discovery, along with the STS-121 crew, was breathtaking,” she adds. She was approximately three miles from the launch site, in a VIP viewing site area with the astronauts’ guests. “The sheer complexity of the space shuttle reaching orbit in approximately eight and half minutes is mind-boggling.”

Having transferred after four years at a univeristy in southern California, Julia sees many benefits to attending Gallaudet.

“Gallaudet has helped me learn the importance of direct communication, which is available 24/7 on campus. I’ve been able to bring the things I’ve learned at Gallaudet onto the job.”

Julia sees this internship, which she landed after doing a search of NASA’s website, and her studies at Gallaudet as a gateway to a career in aerospace sciences.

“It’s always been a dream of mine to go into space, and this way I can be part of that.”

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ON HAND: Where are the deaf schools?

This originally appeared in The Tactile Mind Weekly in Trudy’s ON HAND column.

I was a judge in the 2002 contest of WORLD AROUND YOU’s national essay contest, and was somewhat taken aback by the contents of the entries.

The majority of the essays were from students in “hearing” schools; very few came from residential schools. When I asked a friend who works at a deaf school why his school hadn’t submitted entries, he said, “The English teacher here didn’t feel it was worth the time.” Almost all of the other friends I asked at other deaf schools echoed the English teacher’s sentiments. That pissed me off, especially because the teachers were deciding for the students.

The other eye-opening detail was the common theme: I’m not different; I’m just like any other hearing kid; I can speak and lipread well. Most of them described years of struggle with speech therapy, acceptance, academic accessibility, and how they wished their families understood (although many of them credited parents for their success). Almost none described using ASL, or pride in being deaf–rather, they were more focused upon being “like hearing people.”

As I read these essays, I was quickly reminded of my mainstreamed years. I had the support of Deaf parents; I went to programs that had large numbers of deaf students; and I had Deaf role models from day one. But I also wanted to be hearing. Desperately. It was only when I went to a summer program at Gallaudet that coincided with Deaf Way 1989 that I realized my identity.

I hope this year’s contest brings in more entries from students at residential schools. I’d bet my life savings that the essays would be dramatically different in attitude. I also hope deaf students are truly happy with who they are–mainstreamed or not. They’re our future, after all.

I’m just grateful I found my identity so early on.

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LightKitchen hopes to bring together fellow filmmakers

Originally appeared in Silent News, November 2000.

A group of students at Gallaudet University has formed a group, LightKitchen, in hopes of becoming a film company eventually. Ryan Commerson, one of the founders, said, “We gave birth to LightKitchen at XandO’s, a coffee house in Washington, D.C., after hours and hours of hard labor. So, right now, we are taking small steps towards the goal by producing few short works such as those shown on www.lightkitchen.com.”

According to the group, light is essential for any film or video production, while the kitchen tends to be the preferred gathering place for deaf people: well-lit, easy to communicate, and warm.

Rene Visco, another founder and the webmaster of the LightKitchen website, said, “To me, LightKitchen means saying, ‘I’ll make me a world.’  A world that people around the world can join in and watch. They laugh at our follies, beam at our successes, awed by our complex human natures, and cry with us in our darkest hours. The important thing is that they will understand what Deafness is and means.”

Commerson agreed with Visco, saying, “It’s clear that pushing for higher education [for deaf people] can’t do it all, or even politics – something is missing to make the connections with all of the major fields – entertainment. It’s the major element [of the deaf community] that has been largely neglected.”

On the site, visitors can view three entertaining videos: Daniele Le Rose’s ominous Millennium, Wayne Betts’ humorous Mr. V, or Ryan Commerson’s emotional Soulmate. Visco explained, “Soon in the near future, it is possible that LightKitchen’s website will be revamped again, this time with dynamic Flash content and more QuickTime clips. It will be a powerful visual medium for any Internet user. I aim and strive to make LightKitchen’s website a cutting-edge website that is front of the pack in the Internet.” Visco also hopes to make the site multilingual, including Spanish and Italian translations.

Currently, the group is working on Commerson’s rock climbing project, along with screenings of works by various deaf filmmakers such as Charles Krauel, Julianna Fjeld, and Peter Wolf. “We’ll have discussions on filmmaking aesthetics, approaches, and so on. We also will study why deaf moviemakers in the past have failed, and how we can learn from their struggles, and discuss aspects such as framing our language. Often shots of deaf people talking don’t look so great — why? What can we do to change that? How can we create a movie that can be enjoyed by millions—not only the deaf—and so on,” Commerson said.

The group is also planning a film festival of sorts. “We are planning to be a big sponsor for Gallaudet’s T.V., Photography and Digital Media’s MOS Fest (visual works without audio tracks), which Facundo Montenegro [the third founder of the group] will be preparing for next fall,” Visco said. This will enable the group to establish an annual film festival that will encourage deaf moviemakers on an international basis to participate.

Visco said, “Right now, LightKitchen is a profit-making business. I believe we will spin off a non-profit LightKitchen foundation so that we can influence the future generations of Deaf filmmakers, actors, actresses, and crew members around the world.”

Le Rose, who is visiting the United States as a Fulbright/Mason-Perkins Deafness Fund Scholar from Italy, hopes to be able to bring a branch of this organization back to his home country. He said, “LightKitchen is beneficial to me because I am able to share ideas and goals with others who have common goals. With this, I will be able to develop my skills and techniques for future use in Italy. For example, I would like to produce videotapes for distribution in Italy related to the arts, education, and culture of deaf people. I’d also like to produce movies. This will help expose the hearing community to our Deaf community.”

When asked about the struggles that the organization may face in its establishment, Commerson said, “Some believe in Deaf advancement by means of education. Some believe in Deaf advancement by means of political empowerment. We believe in Deaf advancement by means of entertainment. Without inspiration, tears, fears, or laughter. . .we’re facing the yellow hex sign that says Dead End.”

The group, which also includes Wayne Betts, has been using both individually owned equipment and loaned equipment. The acquisition of necessary equipment is another goal the group has.

The website may be viewed at www.lightkitchen.com.

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