Capital / Signed language — Comments Off
13
Jul 11

The Experiment: The Shopping Test

Shopping

I was first introduced to British Signed Language in 1989 and it wasn’t until 1993, when I became fluent enough to hold a conversation with any Deaf person. I felt like the honorary guest who cuts the red ribbon without an audience, it was the start of a new era. I felt I had attained all the resources available to me to live as a Deaf person. But it left me with a problem.

My speech is indistinguishable from another hearing person, except on some moments when I sound like I have a cold. But generally, hearing people have a tendency to follow me quite well. But I was left with a conundrum: I now have two national languages I can use in the UK, which one do I use?

The issue of whether I use BSL with my Deaf peers is not part of this question; if they use BSL, so will I. The question is more concerned with which language I use with hearing people. In my early 20s, I conducted an experiment – it was the test that defined my life.

I picked a popular high street store that was famous for its clothes and food. It has a wide cross section of the market from the economical to the spendthrift customer. Nationally, it is considered the store for the Middle England. It was the ideal location for my experiment because I was more likely to be associated with people who shop there.

My experiment was to ask for directions to a particular part of the store. My intention was to ask a member of staff to give me those directions and monitor their response. The constant is that I am deaf, I am unable to hear; also the question will be the same one each time. The only variable is that I ask the question in a different language: spoken English or in BSL. Now, most hearing people do not know BSL, of course, so I allowed for variation bordering on gesture in order to get the point across. What is important is that the communication would be done manually and not orally. The question I chose was: “where can I find some socks?”

Here were the results:

English test

I spoke clearly to the attendant and she replied quickly with her face pointing in the direction of where I needed to go but I was unable to lipread exactly what she said. I reminded her that I was deaf and couldn’t follow what she said. More abrupt this time, a short repeat but still unable to get it. I stressed my situation again and forced her to repeat and gave some guidance on how to communicate with me. Slight improvement, she is faced me this time, but the facial expressions look stressed and shoulders were up. She looks annoyed. I received the information this time but the voice was raised sharply. I couldn’t hear the voice but I noticed people standing nearby turning sharply towards her. I thanked her and left.

General evaluation: the stress level was high and the attendant seems confused on the extent of my hearing abilities. She used the voice as an indicator of how much I can hear. It is a false indicator because I am unable to hear her voice. I have to rely on lipreading to understand her.

BSL Test

I approached the attendant and caught her eye. I showed her that I am Deaf using the appropriate sign. Her face lit up and she put the objects in her hands away. She spoke clearly and I have understood what she said, she was asking how she could help. I asked where the socks were and she didn’t quite get it. I used a gesture for socks and it was clear straight away. The attendant then described where I should be going but she looked away, I informed her that I didn’t get what she said. She suggested that she could take me to the area I need to go to and I walk with her, until she points to the exact location. I say thank you and wave goodbye.

General evaluation: much lower stress levels, more able to communicate in the visible dimension rather than the auditory one. She went for the fact I could not hear and communicated with me effectively. There were still communication problems but the attitude was more effective generally.

Of course, I couldn’t take the results from just two separate individuals as evidence, I had to do this a few times and check the responses. The general evaluations still persists. Hearing people are more able to communicate effectively when they have a better indication of how much one can ‘hear’ and not how well one can ‘speak’. If I communicate to a level that is befitting my levels of hearing, I am more able to communicate with hearing people, which is less stressful and more productive.

Hence, when I go out in public and communicate with hearing people generally; I will use BSL.

Photo by Jackie Kever

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Capital / Community — Comments Off
12
Jul 11

The GDP of the Deaf Village

Money

It happened in a lucid dream. I was walking through a village but this place was different. It was so easy to see who was at home and who wasn’t. The front of the houses had large windows, like shop fronts, with drawn blinds. The lights were on but some had the blinds drawn up and others down; some had them slightly ajar so they could see out but not in. But those that were open, people we waving from window to window beckoning one family over to another for a cup of tea.

The houses were arranged in a circle, cul de sacs, that were joined to other circles, who were joined to some more. We were all circling the centre, a central forum with a glass dome. The light streamed from the sky to the central hall and its rays, multicoloured, shone down to the floor. The space was wide, open, with groups of balconies reaching up to the edge of the glass dome. It was a multifunctional centre used for civil activities, trade and entertainment. At the far end, opposite the front door (majestic as it was), two hands were painted on the wall, littered with candles. On the walls, it wrote, “through our hands, come light.”

Someone tapped me on the shoulder and I quickly turned round, “are you ready?” We were signing. “For what”, I retorted with surprise. “For your presentation on the GDP.” And I woke up. Phew! Another ethnic dream.

Gross Domestic Product is calculated from private consumption + gross investment + government spending + (exports – imports) or GDP = C + I + G + (eX – i). It made me think, what is the GDP of the Deaf village? It may be an imagined village, but the trade between members of this village is as real as you and me. Deaf people do trade with other sign language users for ease of communication and affinity with their peers. This topics reminds me of a previous subject I raised: so, how much am I worth?

But how has the GDP, or the total worth, of the Deaf village changed over the years. In the industrial revolution and the period of Enlightenment (Victorian times), the Deaf village included all people who used sign language as their main means of communication. We were looking at possibly a million people in the UK but nearly all working in lower trades. There were pockets of inherently wealthy Deaf people who met in small groups and funded their activities. It was still a substantial GDP.

Then there were events that devalued the Deaf GDP, they raided the Deaf village bank. I am going to put an imaginary figure (calculated from UK total GDP): the value of 5 million Deaf and hard of hearing people in the UK, which is a total of £90.5 million.  So, lets explore the events that influenced the GDP of the Deaf village:

Two-tier education system (Early 20th century)

Children were divided into two classes: one educated to develop their speech and the other provided with a minimal level of education in signed language. The educators used threats for ‘demotion to the lower group’ to ensure segregation. The single Deaf village split into two, and neither would trade with the other. As the village was split in half, the GDP is halved to £45.3 million. One group is called Deaf and the other is called hard of hearing.

Period of Loquomania: hearing aid technology and intensive oral education (1945-70)

2/3 of Deaf children were sent to an oral school where they were taught the ways of hearing people through a punishment regime. The children left without awareness of the Deaf village and it may be years before they discover them. The period of contribution to the GDP shortened as the new arrivals were already adults. So, GDP was lowered by 2/3 (size of group) and then 2/3 (time spent inside the Deaf village) again. GDP falls to a total of £20 million.

Era of Signed Systems (1970 to 80s)

Out of the remaining group, some were taught using a signed system invented by educators. There were 5 on the market: Paget Gorman, SEE, Cued Speech, Makaton, Total Communication. The result left some members of the Deaf village leaving school with a communication system not used by other people. So GDP was divided by a 5th but some gradually rejoined the Deaf village by learning signed language later in life. So the impact was lessened. Therefore a 1/5 of the population left the village. GDP of the Deaf village is now £16 million.

Mainstream education (1980-today)

Out of the 17k deaf and hard of hearing children in education in any given year, 14k of them are mainstreamed in a school with other children who are non-deaf. They do not receive any awareness of the Deaf village and therefore do not invest in it. The Deaf village should grow by 25% each decade if all children entered the Deaf village each year. In fact, only 5% join the Deaf village; 20% is lost every generation. In real terms, the Deaf village is unable to grow.

As Deaf people are least likely to have equality in the work place, increased chance in mental health illnesses, and of an older generation, the productiveness of the Deaf Village is lower. Lets say that total GDP of the Deaf village is now £3.4 million.

In a space of 100 years, in today’s terms, the total of GDP has devalued by £87.1 million. The Bank of Deaf has been pilfered and reduced in value over the years.

The second night, I returned to the dream again. This time I brought a friend. He is deaf too but oblivious to life in the Deaf village. So, I showed him the cul de sacs and the central hall. I showed him the pictures on the walls spanning 300 years of history. I took him to the classes retelling the stories of old and the old philosophers who recount the theories of the past. He would sense the community spirit, the world of sharing and belonging; laughing together. But the hall was so big for so few people. He asks me, “where have they gone?” I raise my eyebrows knowingly and took him to the white picket fence that surrounds the village. In the distance there is a highway of people busying about hooting, shouting and edging their way through, desperate for some space. I raise my hand and point to the busy highway, “just there.”

Photo by AMagill
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Education / Signed language — Comments Off
08
Jul 11

1945-70: The Height of Loquomania

Pinochios

Before the Second World War, the practice of oral education was threadbare. There were a few niche schools supporting children with residual hearing to develop their speech but most children were educated through the combined method. It was the combination of lipreading, fingerspelling and sign language.

Two events took place that completely changed the landscape: the 1944 Education Act and the 1948 NID campaign for free hearing aids on the NHS. It opened the door to practice the Pure Oral approach in education for deaf children on a grand scale (the idea was first introduced to the UK in 1889). The small Dene H0llow Oral School in Burgess Hill, after several moves to different addresses in Brighton and Hove, was led by a Suffragette, Ms. Mary Hare. The drive to open new grammar schools in the UK supported the efforts to open the Mary Hare Grammar School in Newbury in 1946; 1 year after her death. This growth was mirrored in other similar stories in Ovingdean Hall, Hamilton Lodge, Burwood Park, Tewin Water, and many more.

In 1948, the technology developed in the Second World War allowed for experimentation in the use of audio amplification technology in the classroom. It is here you see images of children, wearing headphones, staring blankly at the teacher speaking into a microphone. The children remember the days when they left their classroom with red-hot ears. In 1952, every deaf child had access to a pair of body-worn hearing aids.

The two developments opened the door to loquomania (latin: loquela, speech(n.)). The obsession with speech. [Derived from logocentrism where speech is given greater importance over the written word; cf. loquella, language].

You have to remember that before the Second World War, speaking and listening was not the primary means for teaching English. The reading of the written word was more successful, supported by lipreading and fingerspelling. It is a similar system to the one originally codified by Abbe del’Epee in France and Braidwood in Edinburgh, in 1760 (onwards). Deaf people had good English. For the hearing educators, the ability to read and write English was not enough, so the focus changed to speech. It was the Holy Grail of deaf education, the litmus test of the cure for the deaf ‘affliction’, for normalisation. Teachers employed physically invasive techniques of speech therapy, punishment and abuse to push deaf children to speak. Loquomania was at its height and the children spent hours trying to speak and learning very little. In 1979, the Conrad report identified that deaf children left school (ie. 16 years old) with a reading age of 8¾. It was the death-knell of loquomania, the decades of abuse came to very little.

The 1970s rescued the education system’s reputation with the  popularity of Piaget stages of cognitive development and Montessori’s learning through play (Phillips Deaf Unit, University of Sussex). Suddenly, education should be child-centred and alter to the educational needs of the child respective to their age and abilities. It also came with various signed systems (Cued Speech, Paget Gorman, Signed Exact English) that made English visible again. The pre-war solutions were dusted off the shelves, repackaged and sold back to education.

Today, there are still echos of loquomania, where hearing educators feverishly push deaf children to speak. There is no doubt that speech is an important skill but it is not THE skill. The most essential skill for life is the use of a language, be it in English or BSL, because without that language, deaf people would not have the ability to formulate their ideas. And deaf people without ideas, without hope and expectation, without critique and reflection – is the rise of the subaltern (Gramsci). Like puppets, we are pulled by their strings and carry their voices.

“No need to hear your voice when I can talk about you better than you can speak about yourself. No need to hear your voice. Only tell me about your pain. I want to know your story. And then I will tell it back to you in a new way. Tell it back to you in such a way that it has become mine, my own. Re-writing you I write myself anew. I am still author, authority. I am still coloniser, the speaking subject and you are now at the center of my talk.” (Hook)

Picture by Jesus_Leon
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Community / Evolution — 10 comments
07
Jul 11

Deaf People and The Cyborg

Cyborg

Donna Harroway challenged the essentialist feminist. It was common thinking that women have a different biology compared to men, therefore they are different. The relationship between women and men is expressed as a duality. Our current understanding of relationships between men and women, black and white, abled and disabled, and deaf and hearing creates a duality. The risk is that women would not exist without the presence of men in the same way as the identity of Deaf people would not exist without a ‘hearing identity’ (which doesn’t exist anyway). Harroway wanted to challenge the strict lines between us and them; she wanted to blur these lines.

Harroway used the metaphor of the cyborg. It is an imagined or socially formed concept that nature and machine are closely entwined. Our imagined representations of the cyborg include Seven of Nine in Star Trek or the Cybermen in Dr. Who, where the mechanics are embedded into the human being but they are still visible, or the Terminator and Human Cylons who are machines that are indistinguishable from human beings. The Six Million Dollar Man was a perfect amalgamation of the cyborg but resulted with various non-human abilities; a super-man.

We have an obvious reference to the cyborg in the world of deaf people, the cochlear implant. An electrode breaches the inner ear and places a technical rendition of sound directly to the auditory nerve; it replaces the function of the ear with a machine. But the imagery of this machine includes the embedded magnet that holds the addendum in place. As no other part of the body is magnetic, the implant brings a machine orientated ability to the human body; a small unnatural super-ability.

Harroway goes a step further to explore the relationship between man and machine. She describes how the boundaries between the two, the duality, has become blurred. We all live with machines everyday: a pair of glasses, an iPhone, and an aeroplane. Without these machines, a large percentage of the population would be unable to see, be unable to contact another person remotely and get information on the fly, or take days to travel to holiday destinations in Europe. We are all cyborgs. The boundaries between man and machine is blurred.

In turn, Harroway has challenged the essentialist description of feminism. Feminism is not about being a biological woman but the affinity between women. How feminism is described is based on that affinity. She challenged some feminists who rejected women who identify themselves as pornographic entertainers and they should convert to an ‘ideal’ feminist. Harroway accepted all levels of affinity to inform feminism, from the activist to the prostitute.

What does this mean for us, as a community of Deaf people. Do we need to come away from the essentialist description of the biological deaf person to justify the existence of a Deaf community? To come away from the duality of deaf and hearing, and focus on the affinity between Deaf people? There is no single image of a Deafist because the lines between Deaf and hearing are blurred. If there is affinity amongst deaf people, then that constitutes Deafism.

If you could allow me to play with the cyborg a little further, cyborgism has its own agenda. I caught an older gentleman in an electric wheelchair/scooter riding on the road. The purpose of the scooter was to allow older people, who are unable to walk very far, to travel like other people. In fact, the scooter is quite fast and the gentleman had his hand on the gas with a beaming grin. He got one up on the slower walkers and he was in the fast lane. Cyborgism has never been about making disabled people normal. It is about making disabled people super-people.

There will be a day when the fastest runner, the furthest jumper or the quickest team will not be found in the Olympics, but in the Paralympics. Disabled people will supersede the abilities of other athletes. It will result with three groups of people: the disabled who reject technology or unable to use it; the abled who have a standard set of abilities; and the super-abled, the intentional cyborgs (see Hallacy).

The Cyborg metaphor helps us to exist as a Deaf people without the need of the opposing ‘hearing people’, we exist because we are. As long as the affinity exists between us, the Deaf community exists. We need to come away from the myth that machine can replicate what is natural because humanity has higher ambitions or supernatural dreams, and they will come to life in the real-life cyborg.

Photo by Bohman
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Capital / Culture — 3 comments
06
Jul 11

The Professionalisation of Deaf Cinema

Hand Solo

The recent awards ceremony at Clin d’Oeil has awarded the heroes of modern Deaf cinema and they are from the UK. They are Charlie Swinbourne, Bim Ajadi, William Mager, Louis Neethling and Ted Evans. These are the names you should remember and watch for years to come. They have taken the traditions of Deaf theatre from the Deaf club stage and brought it to the masses.

There is something about Deaf stories that can lighten and heavy any heart. Sign language has a comical twist where signs can be a visible pun but its metaphors can reverberate through the lives of many. The winning team have artistic, filming and authoring expertise that has become more polished from film to film. The Deaf film industry is growing up, they are professional and have potential to elbow some space in British cinema.

Deaf films would never have lifted off without the existence of BSL Broadcasting Trust, a small amount of money is commissioned to film makers that gives them the artistic freedom to push the boundaries. But this small investment has rewarded us ten-fold.

Hand Solo is a mockumentory of a Deaf porno star who gives atomic orgasms, or is it digitic? It is a story of unrequited love and betrayal disguised as a comic caper. What is impressive is the artistic amalgamation of superb acting, camera-work and special effects. The film looks polished and acute in its story telling, a story that anyone can understand. One does not have to be Deaf to appreciate the nuances of this film and laugh at the pixel fuzzing of the hyper-speed hand. There is a great comic duo developing between Matt Kirby and Ben Green that would inspire any script writer or director.

There are many others that are worthy of your attention, such as My Song and The End. Both have great story lines that challenges how we can talk about the Deaf community and bring real issues alive for all to see.

I feel a change in me after seeing these films. I can talk about Deaf films with great pride and place it on the list of great British cinema. I can grab the next stranger on the street and say, “have you seen our Deaf films?” Because, if you haven’t, you are certainly missing something.

Nb. To keep yourself up dated on Deaf cinema, go to BSLBT Zoom.

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