I know many of you are in the same boat as me and Chris right now — we’re in the midst of playing musical family houses, each of us following the partner into their respective family’s houses and waiting until it’s FINALLY time to go home.
Whether you’re exasperated by playing house-pong like I am when we visit Chris’s long-divided-by-divorce family, or whether your face is about to fall off from fake-smiling as you trail your oblivious partner around her family’s house as Chris is, the holiday stress is only added to, when, like us, you’re the only deafies in the family and constantly trying to keep tabs on what’s going on.

But, much to our surprise, this years’ visits have been quite enjoyable. Eye-rolling and silent cursing still pervade, yes, but there’s also been a surprising number of good memories made. After some thought, here’s a few theories we have as to why this year has been relatively painless:

1. We invited other deafies: This is especially handy if a) the event in question is a large family dinner and b) you happen to have a longtime deaf family friend in town who isn’t doing anything that night. Bonus points if that friend has since gained a significant other: all of a sudden you’ve accumulated enough bodies to populate The Deaf Table, thus fulfilling your familial obligation to show up and show Aunt Maisie how much you’ve grown, but not to sit there bobbing your head in that perpetual deaf nod. The first time we did this, I ended up texting my mother later that night: “Can we do that again next year?”
2. We paced our itinerary: One of our best trips this year at first looked like the most exhausting — first we visited each of Chris’ parents’ houses in turn, carefully making sure our time was equally divided, and then we visited his brother’s for brunch, and then stopped by his sister’s later in the evening to drop off some furniture we’d picked up at his brother’s and ended up staying for dinner, crashing on her futon, and then traveling back upstate to see his great-grandmother, who was sick in the hospital.In all, five different stops with different family members. While it took a lot of suitcase-living and gas-tank refilling, the result was some surprisingly meaningful one-on-one time with each part of the family. We had more meaningful conversations with each relative, and there’s no doubt that that was because we’d chosen intimate meals with each in lieu of the mass family gathering. No more relying on Mom for interpreting, no more rubbing eyes ready to fall out of our head after hours of darting around the room trying to figure out who was talking now.

   In fact, I think we got access to more family gossip during this trip than we did in our entire childhoods together. Who knew they were interesting people too?!

3. We came prepared: For me, this means bringing a bottle of Jack Daniels’ and an eye mask. Har har. Historically, I just pack three or four books and hope for the best. But lately this also means bringing our laptops and knowing where wi-fi connectivity is available. This way, we get to show our families what we’ve been up to by way of our blogs or the websites of organizations and activities we’re involved in. It also serves as great insurance should certain relatives suddenly forget we exist or need to run their own errands. We’re also blessed with a kid — anytime we find ourselves at a loss for small talk, we just look over at whatever cutesy thing she’s doing (stabbing her pricey new Nintendo, for example) and giggle in shared adoration. This year we discovered Apples and Apples, a great game also available in a junior version that doesn’t actually require the hassle of slow interpreting (like, say, my family’s favorite game, Trivial Pursuit), but can be great for conversation starting. Try Cranium as well, although deafies need to be on the same team, or, if you’re all talked out, Blokus.
4. We had a better attitude: Where before our angst just seemed to multiply every second we missed a word, for some reason, this year it hasn’t seemed to matter as much as self-preservation has. Dude, these people demand to see us all the time. For better or for worse, that must mean we mean something to them, after all. We went knowing we may full well be heading into a maelstrom of emotional drama served with a side of inadvertent exclusion, but this time we scooped on an extra helping of acceptance and optimism. What mattered most to us this time around was not so much turning a family trip into a civil rights march as making sure the kid got to know the people with whom we grew up.

And if ever we found ourselves tru-biz shoved under the coffee table and smiled at whenever we made a peep, well, it was their loss. We’d just turn the page in our suspense thriller and wait for morning to come. But more often than not, we shoved the bookmark in and found someone to chat up.

The current state of affairs makes me think of possible similarities between events after the Great Depression and our national attempts at revitalizing a crippled economy. I came across an old paper that caught my eye while cleaning out my stuff at home in Florida over the turkey break. I’ve added some current context, though:

The New Deal, enacted by Franklin Delano Roosevelt, was successful in alleviating the mass of the great economical strike that struck corporate America in the 1930s, in terms of boosting morale. The main task at hand, of course, was to reduce the exorbitant number that Americans dreaded—the unemployment percentage.

FDR first used the catchphrase “New Deal” when he accepted the Democratic Party nomination in 1932. This program targeted three main areas, relief, recovery and reform, also known as the Three R’s. Over the first two years, relief and recovery were on top of the national agenda as short-term goals. These goals were set around a strong recovery and a reform of the events that brought on the “boom-or-bust” catastrophe.

In order to ensure a historic comeback, FDR consulted Congress in a special session where Roosevelt elected to have all changes channeled through normal governmental activity. Doing so left the resources of a struggling nation in the hands of private enterprises. This action posed a significant risk, because the Great Depression was caused by the crash of the stock market, an entity that depends on both public and private enterprises; if the private sector crumbled once again, a shaky nation would have been plunged farther into darkness and debt.
With the creation of the Securities & Exchange Commission, the Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation, Roosevelt was not giving the banks a complete facelift; he was simply revitalizing them. The inception of such committees and organizations opened the door in the job market, a move that helped Americans regain hope in employment and began striving for a stronger nation through jobs that led to salaries, which in turn was the catalyst to an economic boost and the availability of consumer spending.

The New Deal did not restore America’s economic strength, but dovetailed with the advent of the Second World War to eradicate the Depression. Since the war demanded the majority of Americans—mostly females, wives and mothers that were home because their men had gone overseas—profits escalated and ensured the beginning of a partial economic recovery. This is evident with the unemployment rate being posted at a staggering 19.1% in 1938. Over the next two years, unemployment hit 13 and then nine percent, under FDR’s watch.

Now, with the election of Barack Obama as our 44th president, we can see some parallels in our economy as there were at the time of FDR’s election. Rather than suffering a Depression, the economy is worse for the wear, due to over-lending and over-taxing of the economy in the effects of a war that has lasted far too long, among other factors.

With the steps President-Elect Obama is taking towards boosting our stagnant economy, what ace does he hold up his sleeve?  Will his ongoing Cabinet appointments be cogs in the gears that will propel our nation forward?

Your thoughts await!

It’s been a long slog, but our usual deaf barriers for watching internet video are crumbling. Hulu.com today added a filter to its search engine to return only closed-captioned videos. I’ve been catching up on new episodes of The Simpsons for weeks now, and their captioning is wonderful.

If you have not been using Hulu, you are missing out, my friend. There are dozens of television series up there ready for you to just click’n'watch. It’s all high-quality and legal. The commercials are just 15 seconds each, and appear during the show’s natural commercial breaks for on-air television.

When you go to Hulu.com and click on either “Recently Added” or “Most Popular” in the top navigation bar, you can see a link for “Closed Captioning” at the very bottom of the list on the left side. Click on that and you’ll get only media that’s captioned. You can click on the other categories to narrow down your search to a specific category of closed-captioned video.

For example, I clicked on “Highest Rated,” “Science Fiction,” and “Closed Captioning” and boom, I learn that all episodes of Firefly are on Hulu, free and completely captioned.  Oh boy!

Their selection of captioned media keeps growing, which is great news for all of those deaf and hard-of-hearing cubicle workers out there. It is also great for me because it gives my Netflix queue more breathing room (no more Simpsons or Firefly DVDs).

If things keep going in this direction, I won’t need to watch live TV anymore. I pretty much now limit my cable watching to just On-Demand HBO and AMC for True Blood and Mad Men respectively, and my Netflix DVDs are all about Battlestar Galactica. I catch up on Grey’s Anatomy via abc.com (which also provides closed captioning but not as well-implemented as Hulu’s). I have more than 30 full-length movies waiting on my computer that I’ve ripped from my friends’ DVDs, all open-captioned via HandBrake’s burn-in subtitle feature.

And heck, if I’m ever stuck watching live TV for any reason, at least there’s always an episode of Law & Order on some channel, so I’m all set.

Gee, it’s a good thing I’ve got graduate studies to prevent me from becoming a total desk chair potato.

A friend of mine—a new teacher who just started recently—is having a rough week.  We had a long talk about teaching in general and how to get past the rough spots.  I agreed to put some of my advice for my friend into a blog in hopes that it might help someone else out, so for better or worse, here you go:

1) Wise Up.

Deaf Education isn’t just about imparting knowledge (which is what you were probably taught in college).  Deaf Education is also about the politics of being right.  From the moment you accept a job as a teacher, you are surrounded by dozens of people who not only think they’re right… they want to prove it.  Some have been burning to prove it for decades.  And some, long before you ever shook hands with them in the hall and said “hi,” had no qualms whatsoever about using you to do exactly that.

2) Recognize the difference between an administrator and a Merry-Go-Round.

I once worked in a school where a kid started whirling around inside of the classroom with a sharpened pencil in each hand.  This was only his latest disruption in a string of increasingly dangerous screw-ups.  For safety’s sake, I sent him to the office.  Before that same period was up—no exaggeration, this was less than five minutes later—the office sent him right back.  The principal felt the situation had been defused, you see, and the kid really just needed a time-out.  I was told to focus on developing some alternative classroom management skills, because my current approach wasn’t really benefitting anyone.  So in time I did develop such a skill: I learned to recognize which administrators I could trust to do their jobs, and which administrators I could trust to hand a shotgun back to a ten year-old if they thought the act would help them avoid a confrontation with Mom and Dad. 

3) Accept that even people you don’t like or agree with personally might also be good teachers.

Just because certain other teachers don’t like or respect you, it doesn’t necessarily mean that they don’t know what they’re doing in a classroom.  Don’t reject this possibility out of pride, arrogance, or insecurity.  Accept it and make the realization your strength.  After all, if it’s true, then the reverse must logically also be true: The fact that they don’t like you doesn’t automatically make you incompetent.

4) Realize that there’s such a thing as a bad student. 

There’s a saying that goes like this: “There are no bad students, there are only bad teachers.”  My take on that?  True, but false.  The younger a student is and the less he can think for himself, the more his “bad” behavior is probably a product of bad teaching (note: not all teachers work in schools).  The older he gets, however, the more his bad habits are a product of his own continuous choices.  Once he gets past kindergarten, he’s been warned.  He has been told to finish his homework, be respectful, and not bully others.  If he arrives in your classroom and still hasn’t figured out how to do these things, it’s unlikely that his troubles are the sole result of your being too stern with him or your failure to inspire him. 

5) EROEI—live or die by it.

“Energy Returned on Energy Invested” is a brutal little equation of efficiency that demands sustainability, and it will not be denied.  If you’re putting more effort into teaching your students than they’re putting into learning from you (or conversely, if they’re a classroom full of intellectual dynamos and you’re slogging day after day through the equivalent of a mental tar pit), someone is eventually going to run out of gas.  People ultimately have bad weeks and rough spots in Deaf Education because someone has been putting too much in and someone else hasn’t been getting enough out—both usually for far too long.  So if the overall enterprise has recently started feeling like a giant net loss of energy… now you know why.

According to a recent CNN article, Sioux Falls is now the best city in the United States to find a job.

Who would’ve thunk that Sioux Falls would beat out DC when it comes to job-hunting!  To my surprise, this list is top-heavy with towns in North and South Dakota, Montana, Idaho, and even West Virginia.  I’m curious to hear from deaf folks living in Sioux Falls (as well as the other top-25 towns) whether they’ve had more luck finding jobs in these smaller towns than in the larger towns like DC, New York City, Los Angeles, San Francisco, Chicago, and others.

Last Sunday, Obama announced a plan to create 2.5 million jobs to rebuild the nation’s decaying transportation infrastructure, modernize schools, and create more alternative energy sources.  I’m only speculating, but I think these jobs will be created largely in large towns and small cities in the nation’s heartland stretching from the Appalachians to the Rockies; this area has been hit disproportionately hard by the declining economy.  Some towns and cities will be selected to be hubs where transportation improvement will radiate outward (and who wants to bet that Minneapolis / St. Paul, the site of a disastrous bride collapse, will be one of these hubs).  Education funds will flow to older towns as well, improving schools nearby.  And research centers (like Frederick, MD and its research hub for solar energy) for alternative energy sources will be established or expanded.

Thus, both blue and white collar workers will benefit as research expands, construction contracts are created, engineers and architects are called in, and, of course, lawyers as well.  Then restaurants and businesses nearby will experience booms, construction stores (like Lowes and Home Depot) will see business improve, and so on.  And they, in turn, will hire more people — further expanding the economy in these areas (and elsewhere).

Certainly much more beneficial to “the people” than abstract billions of dollars being spent to bail out insurance companies and banks.  Let’s hope Obama’s plan does get passed in Congress and is ready for Obama’s signature on January 20th.

Here’re the top 25, in descending order (again, from the CNN article):

1. Sioux Falls, South Dakota
   Unemployment rate: 2.4 percent
   Last year: 2.3 percent
   Job growth: 2.1 percent
2. Rapid City, South Dakota
   Unemployment rate: 2.5 percent
   Last year: 2.6 percent
   Job growth: 1 percent
3. Idaho Falls, Idaho
   Unemployment rate: 2.5 percent
   Last year: 1.6 percent
   Job growth: N/A
4. Bismarck, North Dakota
   Unemployment rate: 2.6 percent
   Last year: 2.5 percent
   Job growth: 2.2 percent
5. Houma, Louisiana
   Unemployment rate: 2.7 percent
   Last year: 2.9 percent
   Job growth: 1.1 percent
6. Morgantown, West Virginia
   Unemployment rate: 2.8 percent
   Last year: 3.4 percent
   Job growth: 1.8 percent
7. Logan, Utah
   Unemployment rate: 2.8 percent
   Last year: 2.3 percent
   Job growth: N/A
8. Fargo, North Dakota
   Unemployment rate: 2.9 percent
   Last year: 2.6 percent
   Job growth: 1.6 percent
9. Casper, Wyoming
   Unemployment rate: 2.9 percent
   Last year: 2.7 percent
   Job growth: N/A
10. Billings, Montana
    Unemployment rate: 3.0 percent
    Last year: 2.3 percent
    Job growth: 2.9 percent
11. Ames, Iowa
    Unemployment rate: 3.1 percent
    Last year: 2.8 percent
    Job growth: N/A
12. Lafayette, Louisiana
    Unemployment rate: 3.1 percent
    Last year: 3.1 percent
    Job growth: 2.8 percent
13. Midland, Texas
    Unemployment rate: 3.1 percent
    Last year: 3.2 percent
    Job growth: 2.4 percent
14. Iowa City, Iowa
    Unemployment rate: 3.2 percent
    Last year: 2.8 percent
    Job growth: 0.7 percent
15. Lincoln, Nebraska
    Unemployment rate: 3.3 percent
    Last year: 3.2 percent
    Job growth: 1.4 percent
16. Portsmouth, New Hampshire
    Unemployment rate: 3.3 percent
    Last year: 3.1 percent
    Job growth: 2.8 percent
17. Great Falls, Montana
    Unemployment rate: 3.4 percent
    Last year: 2.7 percent
    Job growth: N/A
18. Charlestown, West Virginia
    Unemployment rate: 3.4 percent
    Last year: 4.1 percent
    Job growth: 1 percent
19. Des Moines, Iowa
    Unemployment rate: 3.5 percent
    Last year: 3.1 percent
    Job growth: 1.2 percent
20. Missoula, Montana
    Unemployment rate: 3.5 percent
    Last year: 2.6 percent
    Job growth: -0.3 percent
21. Salt Lake City, Utah
    Unemployment rate: 3.5 percent
    Last year: 2.7 percent
    Job growth: 2.2 percent
22. Provo, Utah
    Unemployment rate: 3.6 percent
    Last year: 2.8 percent
    Job growth: 1.2 percent
23. Odessa, Texas
    Unemployment rate: 3.7 percent
    Last year: 3.8 percent
    Job growth: 4.4 percent
24. Pocatello, Idaho
    Unemployment rate: 3.7 percent
    Last year: 2.4 percent
    Job growth: N/A
25. Sioux City, Iowa
    Unemployment rate: 3.7 percent
    Last year: 3.6 percent
    Job growth: -1.9 percent

Shakespeare started it all, with Hamlet’s “to be, or not to be…” soliloquy.

How far does the dome of protection spread when it comes to our privacy?

Washingtonpost.com posted a brief story about Verizon Wireless, sharing that “a number of its [Verizon Wireless] employees have “accessed and viewed” President-elect Barack Obama’s personal cellphone account without authorization.”

The employees have since been put on administrative leave with pay, and an executive of Verizon issued a public apology.

Some time ago, another article, and probably a few more, brought to light whether the President-elect should toss his Blackberry when he is sworn in. Security is the main reason, because of the
vulnerability within cyberspace and unauthorized access to all types of accounts, including e-mail. Naturally, the highest elected public official of this country is warranted to have classified information
coming and going from his handheld, among other private content.

This brings me to a point–even though the phone in question “was a flip-phone that had been inactive for several months” it was ultimately accessed. Have people no sense of respect for the
sanctity of privacy? Are we as a society so driven by the quick buck, thirst for information, or in need of public recognition that we will stop at nothing to uncover any bit of knowledge, regardless
of how we come across it?

On the other hand, this is indeed the era of “infotainment” meaning that any and all information whether relevant, is of interest to a group of us–more so in the case of the President-elect.

Now, I’m not lying, I’d sure like to take a peek at his Blackberry to get a look behind the curtain of our 44th president, see how he converses with his colleagues, and to whom he has conversations
with. That’s the human in me. I just wouldn’t go out of my way to illegally gain access to information I’m not privy to in the first place.

However, if I came across his pager by sheer luck…who knows? I mean, you would at least need to check a message to see who is the owner–or navigate settings and find the user profile, and then
go about returning the pager to its rightful owner. What if you hit on a pressing e-mail that came from Rahm Emmanuel? Or, a message from Hillary Clinton accepting the Secretary of State job? Would
you sell it to CNN or the highest bidder?

I’m curious to learn your thoughts on this issue. Should Obama toss his Blackberry once he takes office on 20 January, or should he make the decision for himself, take into fact that we are a
mobile society, always on the go, even more so for the POTUS. Some of us have the luxury of sitting at a desk and checking our e-mails, while others simply perceive that as time they do not have.

They’d rather have access to their electronic content in hand or on their person, a constant tether to the virtual world.

Share away!

Hearing aids can be a great asset for me, except when the “hearing” part doesn’t work anymore. Then they are of no “aid” at all. One time, my hearing aid started malfunctioning. During this particular period, work was extremely busy so I couldn’t take time off to go get the instrument repaired. As a result, I was without sound for a while, which was fine with me. After all, I am not one of those people who live and die by the hearing aid.

The office area I was situated is a patch of open space, and there were a few people working there alongside me. Questions or quick commentary are usually shouted across the room, and I’ve done my fair share of shouting. Occasionally, though, I would have my hearing aid (when it worked!) clicked off so I wouldn’t be easily distracted by the din. Colleagues usually knew what was up when that happened, and would either wave their arms or stroll over and tap me on the shoulder to get my attention.

So it was a no-brainer that people quickly got used to my non-hearing-aid-wearing self and treated it like business as usual. All saved for one.

It was a typical busy morning for my department. We were rushing to meet last minute deadlines, while simultaneously juggling several major projects. A worker from another department came around our group. Apparently she said something to me, because T, my coworker who sat directly from me, waved at me and pointed in the direction of the worker.

“Excuse me?” I politely uttered. “I didn’t catch what you said.”

“I see that!! Where’s your hearing aid?” B barked, looking up and down my head in search for the missing hearing aid that is usually perched on my ear.

“It’s broken right now.” I responded. “So if you are trying to talk to me…” I started to explain the usual methods of getting my attention.

“Why is it broken??” B interrupted me in mid-sentence. “Why don’t you get it fixed??”

“I don’t have the time right now. The office is really busy, as you can plainly see,” I retorted, gesturing towards the few workers swarming like bees around some papers on a nearby desk.

“Well, you need to get it fixed fast. How can you function without it? It’s too much hassle to not hear anything!” B exclaimed, shaking her head and crossing her arms in a disapproving manner.

I was taken back by the last two sentences. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw T slowly sink into her chair a little. A couple of coworkers stopped in their tracks in disbelief. The waves of ignorance emitting from this woman was blatantly obvious.

“Why do I need to fix the hearing aid right now?” I asked puzzlingly. “My hearing aid has no effect on how I do my work at all. You don’t see it jumping around on the keyboard typing out this latest document.”

My sarcasm was lost on B. “It’s just a matter of what makes life easier for everyone,” she declared in a knowing tone. “And what do you mean by ‘easier for everyone’? You mean, easier for you at your convenience, perhaps?” I shot back.

In a defensive tone, B stated, “I had a relative that’s blind. We had to help him out so many times. We even hired a caretaker to make sure he didn’t walk off a cliff somewhere.” She then fired off a litany of questions. “Well, how can you function without hearing anything? I can’t imagine. What if an emergency is going on and you can’t hear it? How can you hear your kids? How can you do anything for yourself?”

For the first time in a long time, I actually felt offended by the entire exchange. I’m sure many people with varying degrees of hearing loss and communication methods have had to endure lines of questioning of this nature. Over the years, I’ve learned to pick and choose my battles. There were some I shrugged off, a few I waged against passionately, and those that I chalked up to just plain denseness that no amount of education could cure.

But B’s patronizing demeanor just irked me so, with her “I-know-just-what’s-good-for-you-better-than-you-do” smirk plastered on her face. Then the chorus of a song called “I Am Not My Hair” by India.Arie ran through my mind:

I am not my hair
I am not this skin
I am not your expectations no no
I am not my hair
I am not this skin
I am a soul that lives within

In the first verse of the song, parallels can be drawn between the search for the right hair and the search for the right “equipment” to deal with deafness:

Little girl with the press and curl
Age eight I got a Jheri curl
Thirteen I got a relaxer
I was a source of so much laughter
At fifteen when it all broke off
Eighteen and went all natural
February two thousand and two
I went and did
What I had to do
Because it was time to change my life
To become the women that I am inside
Ninety-seven dreadlock all gone
I looked in the mirror
For the first time and saw that HEY….

A friend of mine fit this scenario perfectly. The “press and curl” could have been the hearing aid she received when she was little. Then in her teens, she obtained a “relaxer” in the form of a cochlear implant, which at the time were bulky and very visible. She got teased for being a robot hell-bent on world domination, i.e. the Borg. After about a decade, she decided to ditch the cochlear implant altogether. She is now comfortable in her own skin, as a deaf woman.

In the second verse of the song, India.Arie crooned:

Good hair means curls and waves
Bad hair means you look like a slave
At the turn of the century
Its time for us to redefine who we be
You can shave it off
Like a South African beauty
Or get in on lock
Like Bob Marley
You can rock it straight
Like Oprah Winfrey

In African American culture, good hair usually means black hair is chemically straightened out or pressed neat with a hot comb, with the kinks ironed out. “Good hair” is considered more acceptable by society at large. Whereas black hair in its true state and formed in hairstyles such as braids and dreadlocks, is “bad.” In that sense, the “good” deaf people would do almost anything to help assimilate themselves into the hearing culture at the expense of themselves. Those people who are either very proud of being deaf or not overly concerned about hearing are labeled abominations.

I am not a pair of earlobes walking around. When I grip the steering wheel of the car while driving, it isn’t my ears that are in the 9’ o’clock (or 12’ o’ clock sometimes) and 3’o’ clock positions. That honor belongs to my hands. It’s not my ears that my kids or my husband reach towards to give me a kiss. The body parts are the forehead and mouth, respectively. It’s not my ears that take me from point A to point B. My legs do an adequate job of that task, thank you very much. When friends want to talk, do my ears stop me from listening and sympathizing? Nope. I got a heart and a mind that is not tied into the performance of my ears. The bridge of the “I Am Not My Hair” song breaks it down succinctly:

(Whoa, whoa, whoa)
Does the way I wear my hair make me a better person?
(Whoa, whoa, whoa)
Does the way I wear my hair make me a better friend? Oooh
(Whoa, whoa, whoa)
Does the way I wear my hair determine my integrity?
(Whoa, whoa, whoa)
I am expressing my creativity..
(Whoa, whoa, whoa)

And the most important part the entire song can be found in the aforementioned second verse. This resounded with me loud and clear:

If its not what’s on your head
Its what’s underneath and say HEY….

In my case, it’s not what’s on my ear that defines me, but who I am all about as a person. I am not an invalid or a slave to my disability. And that is what B needed to understand. Just because my hearing aid wasn’t working doesn’t mean that the rest of me is automatically no good.

B was waiting for me to answer her intrusive questions. I looked at her straight in the eye, and I said:

“I am not my ears.”

This morning when my MARC commuter train arrived at Union Station, another MARC train in the adjacent track had several cars “decorated” with graffiti.  Here’s what I saw:

(Click on the photo for a larger size)

First time I’ve seen any of our commuter trains with graffiti spray paint on it.  Then again, I’ve only been taking commuter train for nearly a year.  I’ve been riding the Metro since 1980, though, and have never seen graffiti on any of its cars.  So, seeing this on several MARC cars was a rude shock.  Better (uh, worse) than coffee in the morning.

Hope we ain’t morphing into New York City.

So I’m about two weeks slow on the uptake, but I’ve been watching the reaction to a federal judge’s decision that the powers that be over at the Redskins’ home stadium must caption all “aural content.” (I’m obsessed with that phrase and am gonna abuse it as much as earthly possible. Be warned.)

Find more coverage of the decision here and here.

In a nutshell, the Redskins’ people, at one point, begrudgingly said they’d caption certain things they deem important in certain places. The plaintiffs in the case weren’t prepared to have those decisions made on their behalf and pushed for equal access, importance be damned. After what seemed like forever, the judge agreed.

The response in the blogosphere has been interesting.

There seems to be quite a big to-do over one specific part of this aural content: the song lyrics. I’m not sure why it’s so provocative.

Naysayers say the song lyrics are irrelevant, and therefore the decision is too forceful. Supporters say it’s about equality and access, not relevance, and therefore the decision is appropriate.

Wow. I’ve never seen the song “Who Let the Dogs Out” invoked so much in protest. Apparently it’s ridiculous to be informed when annoying lyrics blare out over the loudspeakers.

And the ripple effect of Marc Fisher’s rhetoric is strong. You may remember his piece on Jane Fernandes back in October of 2006. Well, October must be the deaf community’s lucky month with Fisher — he’s done it again, this time admonishing the plaintiffs for having the audacity to ask what the aforementioned lyrics were. According to him, captioning things like this is a threat:

More important, however, the court’s ruling threatens every public performance by a sports team, musical group, theatrical troupe or any other artistic endeavor.

He doesn’t say just how captioning endangers the efforts of athletes, musicians, or any other sort of entertainer, other than a fleeting suggestion that the words would be too distracting to audiences.

Moving on: Julie Feldman has already responded to Fisher on this blog, pushing the “who are you to decide?” argument, and DeafMom over at disaboom also felt compelled to invoke Fisher’s column, concluding that the captioning that the Redskins must do is not only not a nuisance, it’s an opportunity for universal access — hearing and deaf alike. She writes:

If you want to talk about the real spirit behind the Americans With Disabilities Act, we’d all share the vision to equalize the access for all people with disabilities in every public arena. If we raise a generation of people with this vision, then we wouldn’t build another building without full access for all. And there would be no more lawsuits.

Coral and Opal is pretty supportive of the plaintiffs, acknowledging that it is within the plaintiff’s right to whatever aural content is available, that it’s patronizing to decide for them what should and shouldn’t be conveyed, and adding, quite eloquently, that captioning this stuff isn’t rocket science. However, he adds:

But there are two parts to every song - music and lyrics, and both mean something. And in football stadiums, the former is much more important than the latter. The lyrics are often completely irrelevant.

For example, “The Winner Takes It All” might make more sense lyrically to a deaf person at a football game than “Welcome To The Jungle” does. But just try playing ABBA to a drunk, frenetic crowd at the two-minute warning of a close game.

Okay, so the song lyrics aren’t always irrelevant. Duly noted. Would never have known if ya hadn’t told.

And of course, this post wouldn’t be complete if I didn’t include he of the “hoity-toity” usage: Paotie calls the plaintiffs’ case “overkill:”

People like Mr. Feldman belong in the handicapped section of every sporting stadium around the world. Is life so trivial to sue over a stupid game? For Mr. Feldman and the NAD, evidently so.

So what do you think? The Redskins captioning everything that goes through their speakers: Whoo-hoo! or stupid?

By Julie Feldman

Last year, I was waiting to cross a very busy intersection in Penn Quarter. I looked to my left and there was a blind man with his telltale white cane also waiting to cross the street. Instinctively, I reached out my arm; I thought that, obviously, he needed help crossing the street. Then I stopped myself. If he was already standing on the corner, waiting with the rest of us, then he likely already knew what he was doing. And so I marveled at his agile maneuvering through the crowds as we walked across the huge street. Quite a mediocre task for this man, I was sure, but it nonetheless was a personal epiphany.

I was briefly reminded of this incident last week while passing a movie theater in downtown Silver Spring: blind people were protesting stereotypes perpetuated by Jose Santiago’s Blindness, which had found its way to the big theater. This didn’t surprise me, for there are several quite dramatic scenes and assumptions easily imaginable for any reader yearning to trade in common sense for imagination. Like how people who suddenly lose their sight will lose all their might and will to function as sane members of society. The blind protesters and I share some similar battles.

Although I don’t really spend much time thinking about it, I also have to deal with many assumptions and misperceptions. Perhaps even on a daily basis. Like the time the relay operator typed: “Oh my god. I didn’t know she was deaf.” Which, of course, preceded a not-so-polite hang-up on the grounds that they “no longer needed somebody” for the open job which they had just e-mailed me about. The other day a lady’s “common sense” led to her belief that it was okay to  make my three-year-old interpret for us. Despite all the snafus thrown my way, I continue to hold an optimistic view toward people’s inherent goodness. But sometimes it does take the law to reach that.

For many years, I had been a fan of Marc Fisher’s column in The Washington Post. Until he published “Common Sense Missing in Redskins Ruling“. Like so many others before him, he chose sensationalize a single point in the entire 22-page ruling issued by Judge Williams: the deaf community is irrationally suing just so that the Redskins will caption their music lyrics! Gee whiz, what is this world coming to?

The essential part of the case, which won’t spark the sizzle Fisher seeks, lies in the following statements from Judge Williams:

While Defendants have gone a long way to provide captioning and some access to deaf and hard of hearing fans, Defendants, in effect, do not want to be told they are required to do so by Title III.

The Court believes and declares that the ADA requires Defendants to provide deaf and hard of hearing fans equal access to the aural information broadcast over the stadium bowl public address system at FedEx Field.

But that’s not important to Fisher. He is irked by the request to simply add music and lyrics to the captioning (following that logic, none of the theme music from Cheers or other TV shows would be captioned). Who is he to decide what deaf and hard of hearing people should hear? Some of us envy Fisher for being able to hear the annoying music at FedEx Field and would gladly trade places with him. If that happened, chances are Fisher wouldn’t be working as a columnist at The Washington Post.

Very few people take the time to try and thoroughly understand the reasons behind the decision to file a suit against the Redskins. I understand how much easier it would be to go through life without thinking too much about others’ needs and lifestyles. Still, common sense does not equate some stranger suddenly grabbing your arm and telling you exactly where and how you are supposed to go about your life – just like Fisher did in this case.

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It startles Julie Feldman to describe herself as a “thirty-something parent of two, eight-year resident of Montgomery County”. Between classes, work, and chasing two little urchins, she still finds plenty of time to dream.