The boy at Target

As I sit here working well past midnight, I can’t stop thinking about the most random encounter at Target last Saturday that lasted all of three or four minutes.

My family and I had just arrived at the store, and my younger two were throwing hissy fits over having to sit in the cart (control, folks; carts are how we control our younger kids in stores). My oldest two were pushing each other and giggling. As I attended to the youngest — deeeeep into her terrible twos, which means she screams bloody murder if we try to make her do anything — I saw a father with two kids walking by. The oldest, an adorable boy with the cutest black-rimmed glasses, shaggy short hair, and a green shirt (soccer game, maybe?), kept staring at us. I ignored him at first thinking he was just some hearing kid fascinated by our ASL or our unruly children. But then I looked up, and suddenly noticed his hearing aids with the coolest green ear molds. He had stopped in his tracks, and was watching us intently.

I was trying to calm my daughter down while my husband was herding the other three. As I looked down at my daughter, I could see, and feel, the boy staring at us from maybe five or ten feet away. He seemed to be eight or nine. His father and sibling had already gone into the dollar bins area, and he was standing there, staring at us with so much interest. As I got my daughter happily comfortable in her seat, I mentally debated about how to react to the boy’s gaze. Should I ignore him? Does he know sign language? What if I try to talk to him and his dad gets upset? What if he doesn’t sign and doesn’t understand what I say? What do I do? Are my kids ever going to calm down?

I glanced back at him and gave him a big smile as I snapped my daughter’s cart belt into place. “Hi!!” I signed, looking at him directly.

The biggest smile came over his face as he excitedly signed back, “HI!” Just then, his father came back, looking a bit unhappy at his talking to us. The boy looked reluctant about having to join his family, glancing back at us twice as he walked off. I hoped to see him again in the store so I could talk a bit more with him, but I never saw him again.

I’ve been thinking about him a lot since then. The look on his face was so filled with hunger and hope. It’s a look I’ve seen a million times before, usually on the faces of deaf children (or even adults) meeting other deaf people for the first time. It’s the look of realization that they’re not the only deaf person in the world, that signing is perfectly acceptable and natural, that we’re all incredibly ordinary people just like them. I am so grateful that I have never felt like the only deaf person in the world, because I’ve always had deaf role models around me from day one of my life. I’ve never gone a single day in my life wondering what other deaf people were like or if they even existed.

I’ve also been thinking a lot about my children and their unfiltered, unlimited access to communications 24 hours a day at home and in school. They will not realize for years to come just how fortunate they are, just like my husband and I didn’t realize how fortunate we were to have deaf families and 24-hour access to sign language. I’m extremely grateful that I can chat with and listen to my kids, especially their references to poop and boogers. I’m also fortunate every single person in my household can argue, joke, and love each other without a single communication barrier, even if it means we (namely me) have to be careful what we say at the dinner table because every word we say gets repeated the next day in school, thanks to my children’s eagle eyes.

I hope that the boy in Target is in an environment where he can sign freely and can be as deaf as he wants to be, to whatever degree. Maybe all my assumptions are wrong, and he’s perfectly happy. I just wish I had paid more attention to him once I realized he was deaf. And I so wish I had said hi sooner.

It’s Not Just About Knowing Signs

This article originally appeared at i711.com on June 29, 2006, and was updated on August 28, 2013.

On the first day of my American Sign Language (ASL) class years ago, I found it puzzling that many of the students signed with their mouths shut in a tight, horizontal line, with not one natural movement. This was a level two class, so these students weren’t new to the language. I asked each of the students who their ASL I teacher had been. It turns out that this teacher—who was deaf and from a deaf family—had told them that they were to never move their mouths when signing, not even for descriptions (CHA, OO, et cetera). It took me the rest of the semester to undo this.

As someone who teaches from time to time, I’m always fascinated by those who believe they can teach ASL but are sorely unqualified. I taught my first ASL class when I was 18, and I shudder to think of my lack of teaching skills back then. I had absolutely no formal training in the language, other than having signed all of my life. Even though two people in that class have gone on to become top-notch interpreters, I cringe at how I conducted class back then. Over years, with age and experience, I’ve come to see that the requirements of teaching any language are, in a nutshell: fluency, attitude, teaching skills and experience (and that spells out FATE, I know).

Fluency is a must for teaching any language. Many of us have horror stories of people—deaf or hearing—who think they’re fluent enough to teach ASL. In 2005, an interpreter came to my doctor’s appointment. She was outfitted in jeans and a hooded sweatshirt jacket, hardly proper attire for an interpreter. Her signing skills were mediocre, but I was so sick that I only cared about getting medicine from the doctor. After some polite chatting, she asked if I would be part of a panel for the advanced ASL class she taught. I asked her to repeat, to make sure I understood right; this woman—obviously not fluent in the language—was teaching ASL to hearing people who trusted her to be fluent? She said, “It’d be great to have you; we have a panel about deafness every year and this is the first time I’ve been able to find a deaf person.”

The consequences of someone not so fluent in ASL teaching the language are far-reaching: future teachers and community members have to retrain these students, if possible. The students then go out into the world mistakenly thinking they’re fluent and go on to maybe interpret or teach deaf children. Then deaf children or consumers deal with mediocre signing skills… and then the students are puzzled by why they get criticized if their teachers said they were fluent. And so on.

Then there’s attitude. This is critical; attitude can make or break the learning process. The teacher has to love the language and be willing to share what he knows. The teacher has to really embrace teaching. And he has to be open to new ideas, since language is always changing. It doesn’t matter if the teacher’s relatives are deaf, if he is deaf or hearing, or if he is astoundingly fluent in the language. It’s a no-brainer; attitude is what motivates students to come to class.

Next is the issue of teaching skills. So many signers think they can teach the language because they’re fluent in it and have a good attitude. What often happens is that the teachers come to class, teach vocabulary from a book and then administer tests. Nothing more. That’s a recipe for failure. ASL programs need to have a curriculum in place, with a strong support system. At one ASL program I taught in, I had no curriculum to work from, nor did I have any supplemental materials other than the textbooks I was given.

The next semester, I started teaching at a different college and was blown away by its resources. There were four file cabinets, four drawers each, with materials for each week of each course, at each level of ASL. The support system at this college, along with the incredible leadership of the program coordinator, taught me more than I could have ever learned in any other program. This is why I think training workshops like those offered by the Signing Naturally creators are so essential. Workshops like this teach a curriculum that emphasizes language and culture, rather than just vocabulary.

Finally, there’s experience. What this refers to is the Deaf experience. In a discussion on this topic, ASL instructor John Pirone of Massachusetts pointed out that if two candidates — one Deaf, one hearing — possessed each of these components, the Deaf teacher likely would be  more qualified. This is because the Deaf teacher has the “Deaf experience”–that is, s/he lives life as a Deaf person, and is more likely to teach the language’s and community’s nuances that even the most culturally-knowledgeable hearing teacher cannot.

Learning a language, obviously, is also learning the culture, boundaries, and the nuances of the community that uses the language. I’m not really saying anything new here, but it still amazes me how many people lack the FATE components of teaching. It’s important to recognize just how much impact  ASL teachers have so upon the community at large, often more than they’re given credit for.

The local ASL teacher at the high school here, who is a CODA, has hundreds of students in her ASL classes each year, so it’s only natural to assume that the impact she has upon deaf people here is minimal given the volume of her work. The opposite is true: even with this sheer number of students, the impact she’s had upon the community is phenomenal. I go to the food store, restaurants, gas stations, even the car dealership, and people there sign because they took her class. This is why it’s so crucial to ensure that an ASL teacher has all of the FATE components. Such ASL teachers make this country become just a bit more harmonious.

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

Bad Business: Not a Deaf Thing

Yesterday, on Facebook, I was disheartened to see two posts by deaf people lumping deaf people into a negative category. The first post said,  “Supporting a deaf owned business is one thing and getting ripped off by one of your own is another thing. We need to ‘out’ those who take advantage of their own people and any other people.”

The other said “. . .hearing people won’t understand any Deafy English. That’s why we have to approach them properly after we write…and hire hearing editor to edit them out [italics added]…”

The second post was in reference to a letter sent by Alison Aubrecht, who is deaf, to Delta Airlines. This letter was put together by Alison and T.S. Writing Services — a company I own. All my writers and editors are deaf or hard of hearing. I’m not sure if the person posting this comment about hearing editors realized that the letter had been developed and edited by all deaf people — either way, her comment was audist.

As a business owner who is also deaf, I’m always frustrated when people say, and believe, bad service is a “deaf thing.”  So many of us quickly badmouth deaf business owners or employees simply based on our experience(s) with them and/or what people say.  Even I have been guilty of this. This may be in part due to our community’s close-knit nature and how everyone knows everyone. Yet, we must be careful. The more we badmouth other people and say that it’s “nothing new about deaf people doing this,” the more we shoot ourselves in the foot. If we tell the world that deaf people are not to be trusted, then how can we expect the world to trust us?  We cannot proclaim that “deaf businesses and workers are rip-offs” and then expect the world to see us as the exception.

Ask deaf people to name other deaf people who are bad to work with or rip-offs, and you’ll get a list, especially those involved with the recent video relay service fraud mess. Yet the list of successful deaf business people and leaders is unquestionably  longer. Besides, if you go online and do a search on bad business practices, I can guarantee—yes, guarantee—that there are millions of people who provide poor service…all hearing.  Just search for reviews or referrals of mechanics, cleaning services, HVAC installers, electricians, plumbers, interpreters, technicians or any other professional.

This is why there are so many websites that seek to expose bad business practices through customer reviews and referrals: Angie’s List and Yelp are two examples. There are also television shows that capitalize upon bad business practices, such as HGTV’s “Holmes on Homes,” Food Network’s “Restaurant Impossible,” and Bravo TV’s “Tabatha Takes Over.” Each of these shows has a renowned expert go to the place of business and take care of messes either left by previous contractors or in place by current business owners. Each and every show tells the backstory, and to date, I haven’t seen a single deaf person on any of these shows. News shows like “Dateline NBC” and “20/20” have often gone undercover to expose poor business practices by different professions. Guess how many were deaf? Not one (although deaf individuals or businesses providing poor services certainly exist).

Bad businesses are not a deaf thing. Bad service delivery is not a deaf thing. Bad business practices are not a deaf thing. Nor are they a black thing, a female thing, a Jewish/Muslim/Mormon/Protestant/Catholic/religious thing, a male thing, a gay thing, a hearing thing, a whatever thing. Bad service, bad business and other bad things happen in every community.

We cannot keep killing our own opportunities by labeling our own people who are trying to earn livings—even if dishonestly. Rather, we must address people who have wronged us directly. If enough people have been ripped off by an individual, it will eventually get out. Complaints can be made to the appropriate entities, and perhaps that person will learn from the mistake—or not. It is your decision whether to patronize a business again or not. Do it based on work quality, customer service, and other factors—not based on cultural, racial, or other identities.

By saying that bad service is common among deaf people, we are doing a major, major disservice to ourselves and all the other honest, hard-working business owners and employees who are deaf. Let’s simply call it for what it is: bad business — with nothing else attached to it.

Workshop: June 29, 2013 | Think of a Word, Quick! (New Jersey RID)

Think of a Word, Quick! 
New Jersey Registry of Interpreters for the Deaf, Eatontown, NJ

Trudy’s thoughts:

This workshop was filled to capacity, much to my happiness. It’s is one I have taught since 2000 in at least 25 locations around the nation.

Although the workshop has evolved over the years, the basic premise is always the same: use it or lose it. What I emphasize in this workshop is that one must use language in order to expand it. This seems like a no-brainer, but too many approach this from an academic standpoint rather than an everyday, basic perspective. To help drive this point home, I provide hands-on activities that help expand interpreters’ ASL and English vocabularies.  They’re activities that can be done anywhere, whether it be at home, on the train going somewhere, or even waiting at an appointment. They are such basic activities that I do all the time for my language development and expansion, because they really do work.

It’s also fascinated me to see how the very same reactions to the activities I present take place every time I do this workshop. It’s a wonderful sociological observation for me, and I always learn so much from those responses and coping strategies (because people who have attended my workshops know I never make the activities too easy–that’d completely defeat the point, right?).

This workshop is my all-time favorite workshop, and I hope to present it for many years to come.   Many thanks to the NJRID participants who made it so much fun, and especially for their kind words, openness, and willingness to discuss stumbling blocks in their interpreting work.

Evaluation comments:

Enjoyable. A combination of education and fun.

Excellent, and enjoyed the safe, fun environment.

Would love to have her back for a full workshop.

Hands down, one of the best workshops I’ve attended in a long time. Helped expand my thought process, made me think outside my habitual box, and made me laugh!

Great! So funny! Love your humor! Thanks.

Great workshop and practice I can use at home.

Good activities. They were fun!

Loved this workshop!! Would love an all-day version!!!

Workshop: June 29, 2013 | Deaf Disempowerment and Today’s Interpreter (New Jersey RID)

Deaf Disempowerment and Today’s Interpreter 
New Jersey Registry of Interpreters for the Deaf, Eatontown, NJ

Trudy’s thoughts:

This group was one of the most attentive, open-minded and supportive groups I’ve ever worked with. I felt so welcomed, and that really helped set the tone for me. And the group was incredibly gracious about my shameful vice: Real Housewives of New Jersey. Such kind people, indeed.

This was a bit different from previous Deaf Disempowerment presentations I had done. Usually, I do a 30-minute presentation, then the participants choose whether to attend the follow-up workshop (which takes on a think-tank format) or the other workshops the conference offers. This time, I was asked to incorporate both the presentation and workshop into a two-hour format, with all conference participants present.

An interesting challenge was that the room was a good size, but not in the right direction. The room was more wide than long, so people were on either side of me–which made for some challenging sight lines at times. My neck actually hurt from having to swivel from left to right so much.  Even so, the overall experience was very positive, and I credit the audience for this. A lot of great questions were asked, and they will be used to tweak future combined presentation-and-workshop events.

Evaluation comments:

Very excellent! Great workshop! The presenters were wonderful, knowledgeable, and professional. Thank you!

Her presentation style was excellent. Truly enjoyed her explanation and teaching style.

Excellent examples. Extremely important topic!

This would be great as an all-day workshop, open and great discussion on topics, would be great to have her back to NJ for an all-day workshop.

Gave me great tools to use to keep evaluating myself, my role and my work. Thank you for highlighting areas for me to watch out…always better to do that than regret in hindsight!

Very open feelings to presentation, not judgmental but mature perspective.

Real-life examples make our own work relevant. Sometimes I ask myself, “Could this situation ever come up in a workshop?”

Fabulous – really got to the meat of the “little indignities” that Deaf people face everyday.

Fantastic! Truly will inspire more thought and discussion on topic. Thank you!!

Workshop: June 8, 2013 | In Search of Interpreter Heart (Minnesota RID)

In Search of Interpreter Heart
(co-presented with Doug Bowen-Bailey and Paula Gajewski-Mickelson)
Minnesota Registry of Interpreters for the Deaf, St. Paul, MN

Trudy’s thoughts:

This was a last-minute request that turned out wonderfully, especially with us co-presenting together for the first time. With nearly 40 people in attendance at the MRID spring conference, Doug, Paula and I were thrilled with the overall atmosphere, participants’ open minds and everybody’s honest exploration of different topics within the Deaf and interpreter communities. What I especially liked was the opportunity to interact with participants and listening to their experiences and perspectives. One of the best parts for me was when we went into the ethical decision-making circles, which consisted of anywhere from five to ten people per circle. The first thing Paula had us do was write down our top three values–not work values, but overall values in our professional and personal lives. We had to then choose the top one out of our list. It was harder than I anticipated, because I had so many that I couldn’t figure out which ones to choose. We then shared our top value with each other, and that provided me with such a major insight into each circle participant’s perspectives and even life experiences. That was a great activity.

We three are already refining our presentation and are eager to present this again. I was, and am, honored to work with Doug and Paula especially because they are two of the most sincere, committed and fun allies I know.

Evaluation comments:

Thank you! One of the best workshops I’ve ever been to! Please offer it again for those who missed it today.

Great workshop! The presenters were wonderful, knowledgeable, and professional. Thank you!

In Search of Interpreter Heart: Exploring Our Core Values

Come to a workshop on June 8! This is open to all, especially interpreters, allies and Deaf people.

{Click on the flyer for a larger image, or e-mail me for the original file.}

MRIDSpringWorkshopFlyer

Make it easy to remember the water: 10 tips for presenters

I’ve written two articles for workshop coordinators and organizers, and I thought it only fair to have tips for presenters. The below is a collection of tips for presenters from experienced workshop and conference planners.

Not only is coordinating a workshop, event or conference a lot of work—it’s also hard work, especially when working with a variety of personalities, preferences and requirements. Below are 10 tips for presenters to make event organizers’ lives just a bit easier.

1. Be prepared. This goes without saying, but always be prepared in advance. This means coming to the workshop knowledgeable on your subject, and also asking for what you need upfront. Want your workshop seating to be arranged in a circle? Need LCD equipment or Internet access? Want a flipchart? Ask in advance, and don’t be unhappy if you ask for something at the last minute and are not provided with it. With all things, of course, expect the unexpected—and have a back-up plan in place.

2. Have someone proofread your work. Even if you’re an experienced presenter who has done a workshop many times, be sure to have someone—such as T.S. Writing Services—review your PowerPoint for clarity, brevity and typos. There is nothing more embarrassing than having audience members look away in boredom or silently correct your PowerPoint slides because it has a typo somewhere or isn’t clear. Besides, numerous mistakes, even if they’re minor typos, can undermine a presenter’s credibility.

3. Dress appropriately. Wear appropriate clothes; business casual is a good balance between participants who are dressed up and those who aren’t. Have back-up clothing such as a dark-colored (depending on your skin tone) pull-over or cardigan in case you have people in the audience who can’t see you clearly. Remember to dress for extreme room temperatures and conditions. Keep in mind that you might get warm from moving around, but the participants might be cold because they are sitting still. Organizers and planners, too, should dress appropriately, even if everyone else is in jeans.

4. Ensure that you submit the necessary information according to guidelines. Oftentimes organizers will ask for your biography and other details for the event program book, website and so forth. Please adhere to their word limit, and abide by their deadlines. They have deadlines in place for a reason—so that things get done in a timely manner. Do not wait until the last minute. This will delay other planning and implementation tasks. Mark on your calendar when the handouts, abstract, workshop information, and so forth, are due. Keep in mind that organizers often are dealing with multiple presenters, so submit all your information at once, and with easy-to-identify file names (such as suggsbio.pdf, suggsabstract.docx, etc.). The last thing you want to do is have the organizer chase you for your information.

5. Have clearly stated expectations. Whether you’re doing a workshop or presentation, make sure you have a contract in place, even if you’re not getting paid. Usually, the organizer should have this paperwork available—but if not, have your own contract available. This contract should include:

  • Workshop title
  • Workshop date, time and location
  • Payment information (including lodging, travel, per diem/meals, handouts, etc.)
  • Cancellation policy and terms
  • Billing information (such as who to send the invoice to)
  • Signatures of both parties

6. Respect budgetary constraints. If you are being paid for your travel, don’t get the most costly and best seats available. Rather, plan ahead and look for a reasonable fare that fits both parties’ needs. Be sure to keep all receipts in case the organizer needs it to reimburse, and send your invoice promptly after the event.

7. Communicate well. Be responsive. Respond to the organizer’s e-mails as soon as you can, and if you’re unable to provide the needed information, simply respond with, “I got your e-mail and will get back to you by Friday.” A reasonable turnaround time is three business days. About a week before, and again on the day of your event, check in with the organizer to make sure everything is going according to plan, and confirm that any requests you made in advance will be met. Provide the organizer with your immediate contact information such as your text number, and request the organizer’s information as well.

8. Know who you’re presenting to. Check the organization’s website, request information on the audience, and learn about the event, such as why it is being held and its theme. Learn who you’ll be talking to, and tailor your presentation or workshop to them. If applicable, find out what the organization’s history and issues are.

9. Check in as time nears. Make sure you have transportation to and from the airport. If the organizer is unavailable to pick you up, ask for other options. If you need to take a taxi or call the hotel for a shuttle, make arrangements in advance since many airports do not have accessible phones for hotel shuttles. The organizer should have transportation in place, but again, expect the unexpected.

10. Expect the unexpected. Remember that many events take months of planning behind the scenes, and organizers can’t anticipate everything. When organizers are faced with circumstances beyond their control, working together can help make the best of the situation. For example, if the Internet connection isn’t working, or if your laptop won’t connect to the LCD projector—have a PDF version of the files as a back-up.

Special thanks go to Socorro Moore, John Pirone, Rosa Ramirez and others who provided input for this article.

Better Does Not Always Lead to Best

Better opportunities is a phrase I see thrown around casually, sometimes defiantly. It often comes from parents of deaf children who reject certain educational settings or American Sign Language (ASL) for their children, saying, “I want better opportunities for my children.”

Yet this phrase often unintentionally serves as subtle oppression. Several years ago, an expectant parent told my husband, “I really hope the child is hearing, because it’ll mean better opportunities for her/him.” This parent had two other children—one hearing, one deaf. Why would this parent belittle the deaf child by saying that having another hearing child would be better? Why in the world would being deaf equate to less desirable opportunities? [Read more…]

The fight of her life: Ronda Kopatich-Johnson

Ronda Kopatich-Johnson was my children’s teacher aide last year in preschool, and my children went ga-ga over her. My children came home with new words every single day. I could easily identify the words that came from Ronda, because of the signing style — and that always made me smile. They ask about Ronda every day, and talk about stories she told them such as her trip to Hawaii. She is gentle, loving, and firm but so incredibly sweet and giving. I could list a million positive adjectives about her, and I still wouldn’t get to the heart of who she is. So let me share a story.

Last year, my children’s school hosted a regional basketball tournament. The school gym is straight out of a movie–it is old, with a wooden, low ceiling that volleyball players use to their advantage during matches. The bleachers shake whenever people climb them, and reverberate with amazing energy when fans cheer. During the tournament, I realized my older daughter was nowhere to be seen, and I figured she was probably in the gym basement, playing with other children. I walked down to check on her, and saw a sight I’ll never forget.

About 15, maybe 20, children — both deaf and hearing — were seated in a circle. Ronda was explaining the rules for Duck, Duck, Goose to the captivated children. I watched from a distance as she taught them and then joined in on the fun.

Nobody asked her to do this, but Ronda knew the children were in need of activities after being cooped up in the gym all day long. Never mind that she already worked with preschoolers all week, and this was her time off.  After a while, I asked if she was all right, if she needed me to get the other parents so that she could watch the game; she was, and is, a renowned basketball player, and I knew how important basketball is to her. She shook her head and said she was just fine, that she was happy to help parents, including me, get a little respite.

I couldn’t stop thinking about this amazing deed on her part, because upstairs, there were hundreds of parents enjoying the games, clueless to the fact that one woman had chosen to go downstairs and entertain children who weren’t hers.

That, my friends, is what a true role model is.

Ronda is now fighting the harshest battle of her life: cancer. Since she is not covered by her wife’s health insurance, they have to pay for her medical expenses out of pocket. She was in the hospital for more than a month, days away from death. She is now home, and slowly but surely fighting her way back to “normal” (whatever that is). Her family is amazingly devoted to her recovery, especially her wife, Kelly.

Maybe you could spare a dollar or two, and help. Go to www.giveforward.com/rondakopatichjohnsonfund and read more there.

My children are really looking forward to having Ronda back at school. I am, too.

Update: The donation website is now inactive. Ronda passed away on July 18, 2013, and fought to the very end.

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