Transcriber: Rhonda Jacobs Reviewer: Tanya Cushman
(Silence)
Just now, most of you experienced something
people in the Deaf community deal with often:
a lack of language accessibility.
In a venue where most of you came
expecting to hear everything in spoken English,
I just stood up here for the past 30 seconds
and signed to you in ASL.
Most of you were probably surprised, or maybe even fascinated,
just looking at the language.
But the bottom line is you have no idea what I just said.
I could have just finished the greatest TED Talk
in the history of TEDx,
or I could have explained string theory,
or I could have recited "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star,"
but you wouldn't know.
This might have evoked different emotions from each of you.
Some may feel frustrated or maybe even lost,
which kind of makes me wonder,
Why didn't one of you guys just get an interpreter?
(Laughter)
The truth is, I wanted to make you angry -
okay, kidding - if you aren't too mad.
But I did want to convey some of these feelings,
ones that my parents experience almost every day.
I was born into a family with four children
and two parents, who happen to be deaf.
I lived a childhood similar to many.
I went to public school, played sports and went to church on Sundays.
My parents just couldn't hear.
When I was younger, I was not completely aware
of the whole idea that having deaf parents was such a anomaly.
It was all I'd really known.
I was used to seeing interpreters at events
or having to interpret for my parents at restaurants and stores.
But I was too young to truly realize the differences
in the way that they were treated.
It wasn't until I started hanging out with people like myself,
called KODAs, or kids of deaf adults,
that I truly became aware.
In the summers since I was nine years old,
I spent two weeks at a camp with only KODAs.
And as I developed relationships there,
I learned more and more
about the unjust treatment my parents faced.
And I became more observant of these injustices in our daily life.
Imagine if one day,
you and your 10-year-old child want to make some cookies.
But you go to check the fridge, and you have no eggs.
Darn.
(Laughter)
You decide to go to the store to get some.
You walk in, grab a dozen eggs and go to the cashier to check out.
You hand them your eggs, give them a little smile,
they smile back,
(Laughter)
but then you see their lips move
and no sound comes out.
You smile and nod for a few seconds,
but then they glare at you as if you had just insulted them.
Then they turn to your child and talk to them.
Your child tells you that they were asking what payment method you would be using.
Okay.
You turn to the cashier to give them your answer,
but they aren't even looking at you, they're looking at your child.
The cashier won't even try to listen to you,
so you have to give your answer to your child,
who then gives it to the cashier.
They continue to talk and ignore you throughout the whole transaction,
leaving you in the dark.
You pay, grab your eggs and walk out.
And as you go, they give you a smile and a wave,
but that's it.
You are a grown adult,
and a cashier at a grocery store
just decided to do a whole transaction through your 10-year-old child,
who's currently learning to multiply fractions
and play the recorder in his fourth grade class.
All you wanted to do was buy some eggs, but the cashier blatantly ignored you.
Now, if you didn't catch on,
this is a scenario my parents and I deal with too often.
Whenever we go to restaurants or stores
or anywhere that requires interactions with hearing people,
this is pretty common.
It's as if as soon as they understand that my parents are deaf,
they deem them completely incompetent.
Now, this behavior could just be a nervous reaction.
I mean, it's understandable
that some of you may have never met a deaf person before,
might get flustered when interacting with them.
But regardless, this behavior frustrates them
and restricts their ability to have simple human interactions.
My parents also face issues when it comes to requesting interpreters,
as it is their obligation to do so.
Interpreters are almost always their only source of information;
whether it's a school event, a meeting or church,
the language is almost always spoken.
Sometimes, venues are unable or unwilling to accommodate for their need.
This makes it seem as if their time or money
is worth more than my parents' access to information.
Even the name that was given to deaf and mute people subordinated them.
In our recent past, the word deaf and mute people
were called "deaf and dumb."
But over time,
the word "dumb" evolved from "mute" to "lacking intellect."
As if the fact that they could not speak
was in any way associated with their intelligence.
Their disability was turned into an insult.
Now, I've experienced firsthand
many of the ways in which deaf people have been discriminated against.
But they're not the only ones.
Almost all people with disabilities face this.
Often, those with disabilities
do not receive the proper educational services
and support that they need
in order to grow and become independent.
A child with disabilities can receive resources and aid
up to a certain age, which varies across the nation.
But once they reach this age, they "fall off the cliff."
They suddenly lose all of their necessary services and support,
restricting their ability to grow and become independent.
And due to this, many end up in institutions,
workshops, prisons or just sitting at home.
However, even of those that do receive the necessary services,
many face serious job discrimination.
Employers consistently turn down candidates with disabilities
in favor of those without.
And in 2018,
the unemployment rate for those with disabilities looking for a job
was two times that of those without a disability.
Even of those that do get hired,
many end up isolated from society or paid far less than the minimum wage.
Society created barriers,
which limited those with disabilities' access to human opportunities.
As humans,
we must not see them as a burden that we need to accommodate for,
but rather as individuals
who have been restricted by these barriers we've created.
The bottom line is
we are all human.
In order to create an equal opportunity for everyone,
we must provide people with the things that they need
in order to overcome these barriers.
And it starts with a genuine belief and understanding
of the idea that we are all equal.
Sometimes, when I tell people that my parents are deaf,
their immediate reaction is one of pity,
saying, "Wow, I'm so sorry,"
or "That must by so hard."
But truthfully, it is one of the greatest gifts I have ever received.
This idea that having a disability is an unfortunate thing
is where many are wrong,
and it's how we develop the mentality
that a disability makes someone incompetent.
And if we can begin to see them as the equals that they are,
we can give ourselves the opportunity to learn from them.
I'm a youth group leader at my church,
and this past fall,
our ministers gave us a talk about their vision for the year.
They explained that they wanted a warmer, more welcoming environment.
But the way that they told us to do this
blew my mind.
Our minister talked about
a group of special needs people he'd interacted with,
and how despite their challenges, they lived outgoing, joyful lives.
They had a fearlessness to meet others and always had welcoming smiles on.
They greeted everyone and wanted to be everyone's friend,
making them feel cared for and loved.
Our minister told us to learn from them
and to act as they did,
free and loving,
without any caring for what others may think.
And this opened my mind.
The people he interacted with view the world in a different way,
which allowed them to take a completely unique approach
onto how to interact with others.
And it is truly something to learn from.
I realized that when I'm at school,
many students with disabilities always make me feel welcome
and cared for.
The joy that they carry themselves with every day
never fails to brighten my mood.
Now, when I first took the stage, I signed to you in ASL,
a language in which all ideas are shared through visual aspects.
When I see people signing, I see the scope of human emotion
and all of our complexities being shared simply through images created by the body.
Each language provides us with a new way to think.
And learning a new language lets us understand more about ourselves.
This concept,
that complex ideas can be shared
through the length, depth and breadth of gestures,
body language, facial expressions,
the actual handsigns themselves -
everything can and should be observed by others
in order to learn new ways into how to share ideas and emotions.
Disabilities allow people to see the world in a new light.
And as humans, we must overcome this mental block
that creates pity or intimidation towards them
so that we can begin to see them as the equals that they are.
And this begins with an understanding of the idea
that a disability is not something that limits them,
but enriches us.
Now, when you leave today, go learn something,
but not just anything.
Go find someone who experiences the world in a completely different way than you do.
Observe the way that they think and act.
Find the beauty within their experience and take something from it.
Because when we all can learn from each other,
that is the most human we can get.
Thank you.
(Applause)
(Cheers)