# data[].attributes.body
Weather Safety for Deaf & Hard of Hearing
https://www.weather.gov/wrn/dhh-safety-nwr

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.readable_text
1. What is NOAA All-Hazards Radio (NWR)?

NOAA All-Hazards Radio receives National Weather Service (NWS) warnings, watches, forecasts and other hazard information 24 hours a day.

Brochure (PDF). Need Acrobat Reader? Download a copy here.

2. What adaptors are available for deaf and hard-of-hearing individuals?

Several off-the-shelf radios from many manufacturers.

Visual and vibrating alarms and simple text readouts are available with many off-the-shelf NWR. Click here for known manufacturers that allow for adaptors.

Three warning lights indicate the level of the alert (statement, watch or warning)

Liquid crystal display readout indicates specific types of warning such as "Tornado Warning" or "Thunderstorm Warning"

Programmable state/county selections screen out statements, watches and warnings for other areas.

The battery-operated NOAA All-Hazards Radio can portable at home, work, school or play, or while travelling, boating or camping.

Watch You Tube video below both captioned and using ASL to step you through the process of configuring of one type of NOAA Weather Radio with adaptors.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
1. What is NOAA All-Hazards Radio (NWR)? NOAA All-Hazards Radio receives National Weather Service (NWS) warnings, watches, forecasts and other hazard information 24 hours a day. Brochure (PDF). Need Acrobat Reader? Download a copy here. 2. What adaptors are available for deaf and hard-of-hearing individuals? Several off-the-shelf radios from many manufacturers.

# data[].attributes.body
History of Black Deaf Schools
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=grpyswPABa8

BASL & TikTok
https://www.becauseofthemwecan.com/blogs/culture/popular-22-year-old-tiktoker-is-teaching-black-american-sign-language-using-social-media

Can ASL be involved in racism?
https://youtu.be/twIkUBG8sxQ

Signing in Black America
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oiLltM1tJ9M&t=927s

# data[].attributes.headline
How to interact with police if pulled over

# data[].attributes.subject
How to interact with police if pulled over

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oWKR4J8gjnk

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Deaf community and Police: Interacting with police

# data[].attributes.headline
Barista Learns Sign Language for Customer

# data[].attributes.subject
Barista Learns Sign Language for Customer

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6-pMZBQrjcU

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Barista learns sign language for customer

# data[].attributes.body
Extreme Makeover Vardon Family- Video & Article
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uG_nK3g5IPc
https://people.com/celebrity/extreme-makeover-family-in-danger-of-losing-home/
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IKQvyyM8gj4

Extreme Makeover OSD
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IYE8rjZWPMo

Extreme Makeover Marlee Matin
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LldRlkELbU8

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.readable_text
Four years after Judy and Larry Vardon, a deaf couple with a blind, autistic son, captured the hearts of millions on Extreme Makeover: Home Edition, the couple fears losing their remodeled house.

The Vardons, who were featured in a Nov. 6, 2004, episode of the ABC series that set a rating record for the show, say that their mortgage payment has doubled since the show aired and they are facing mounting medical bills due to their son s autism, according to the Associated Press.

"I'm afraid I'm going to lose my house now," Judy Vardon of Michigan, said. "This house really belongs to [our son]."

The Extreme Makeover team renovated the Vardon's 980-square foot house near Detroit to make is safer for their 16-year-old son, Lance. After the makeover, the couple refinanced their mortgage, and since then their monthly payments have nearly doubled to $2,300.

They also have debts of more than $20,000 due to Lance s therapy, and are worried that Larry may lose his job at a Chrysler plant amid the economic crisis. "We didn't have bad spending habits," Judy Vardon said. "My husband got laid off for a time, and insurance wouldn't cover Lance's autism therapy and some other things like his vision and special dental work."

Judy says she remains grateful to the Extreme Makeover team for their help and that the family is working with a non-profit group to help negotiate a lower mortgage rate. "We're a close family that loves each other," she said. "I feel that I was given this life to show others that you can face these challenges."

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Extreme Makeover Family in Danger of Losing Home

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
Four years after Judy and Larry Vardon, a deaf couple with a blind, autistic son, captured the hearts of millions on Extreme Makeover: Home Edition, the couple fears losing their remodeled house. The Vardons, who were featured in a Nov.

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.youtube.com/c/DackVirnig

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.keywords[]
dack virnig "dack virnig" deaf asl comedy "deaf comedy" "asl story" "american sign language" "sign language" "mountain dew man" "deaf mountain" "video deaf" ...

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
Founded in 2015, DackCube Entertainment is a Deaf-owned business whose mission is to entertain and engage audiences of all ages through our top-notch performances combined with outstanding content and plots laden with twists and turns. Our commitment is to deliver more than just a satisfactory experience - a powerful impact that will blossom and enrich people's love for American Sign Language.

# data[].attributes.body
Part I
https://youtu.be/kzfv8-H1aD0

Part II
https://youtu.be/CZJNpxC1fJI

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Deaf Person in a Hearing Family Part 1 - Thanksgiving Dinner

# data[].attributes.headline
Raising a Deaf Child- Interview conducted by deaf daughter

# data[].attributes.subject
Raising a Deaf Child- Interview conducted by deaf daughter

# data[].attributes.body
https://youtu.be/res-mwimQTs

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Raising a Deaf Child - My Parents Share How They Found Out I Was Deaf & How They Raised Me

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.washingtonpost.com/archive/lifestyle/magazine/1998/11/22/a-place-at-the-table/4c67d9f4-c104-4f26-87d2-7ef93c87e354/

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.readable_text
We had 19 people coming for Thanksgiving last year and no matter how we juggled the plates and chairs, my 14-year-old daughter, Bekah, and I were able to squeeze only 18 places at our rented table. Bekah, who is deaf and uses sign language to communicate, stood holding the extra plate. "You know," she told me, "I don't need to sit here. I'm not really going to understand what's happening anyway." Then she looked at my face, which must have shown my feelings, and signed, "No offense, Mom." I wasn't offended. I was, however, aching, because I knew just why she felt that way. When the kids were younger, they would all eat quickly and run off to play, and Bekah could be included in the games without much difficulty. But now they are all teenagers and young adults and they don't leave the table -- the entertainment is talking. Even though there would be five of us at that Thanksgiving dinner who sign fluently when talking one-to-one with Bekah, in a larger group it doesn't work that way. The conversation gets fast and funny and people interrupt, change topics and crack jokes, and we all tend to drop our signs. Although I'm the best signer in the family, interpreting for 19 people -- while eating and attending to guests -- is impossible. Bekah misses a lot, which is frustrating and hurtful. We've spoken about hiring an interpreter to join us, but except for special occasions like her cousin's wedding and her grandmother's funeral, we've never done that. She thinks it's too weird to hire someone to come to dinner at our house, and I share her feelings. I know it's not only deaf teenagers who might prefer to skip a large holiday meal -- hearing teens, too, can feel disconnected from their families, and, at a table without peers, get bored or annoyed. But for deaf teens, 90 percent of whom have hearing parents, there's usually something else going on as well: There's a good chance that before they've had the opportunity to make the natural adolescent choice of bowing out of the conversation, they've already been shut out of it. There's a good chance that a deaf kid who says no thanks to sitting at the family table isn't rejecting the scene so much as feeling rejected herself. So that Thanksgiving Day, I moved plates, silverware and napkins closer together to make room for another place setting, and told Bekah how important it was to me that she sit with us. The day my husband and I learned that Bekah was deaf, we enrolled her in a deaf preschool and enrolled ourselves in sign language classes. Although we had no knowledge of sign language at the time, neither of us doubted that we wanted to use it with Bekah. She was 17 months old, and so hungry for language that, within two weeks, she had learned to sign 50 words. Words filled her mind and her hands -- cheese, cookie, doggie, brother, shoes, mine, Mommy, Daddy, cracker -- and soon she had as many words as most toddlers her age. Although I was filled with grief during those early weeks, it was obvious that Bekah was not; it was clear to all of us that she was relieved. Gone were the tears because I had brought her the wrong juice, gone were the grunts and points as she struggled to tell us what she wanted. Despite my sadness, I loved seeing her baby signs; despite my fears, I was so glad to be learning how to communicate with her. Still, I was overwhelmed at the prospect of having to learn another language to raise my daughter. We were actually studying two new languages at the same time: Signing Exact English (SEE), a signed system that coordinates with speech and which the teachers at Bekah's school advocated, and American Sign Language (ASL), the visual language of the deaf, which has its own grammar and syntax, and which the deaf professors at our community college taught. Native ASL signers feel passionate about the beauty and clarity of their language; when writing, they capitalize the word deaf to distinguish deafness as a culture from deafness as a diagnosis. SEE advocates, mostly hearing people in the field of deaf education, feel strongly that it's better to use a sign system that coordinates with spoken and written language. I was aware of the philosophical differences between the two groups, as well as the harshness with which they judged each other. But at that time I didn't care which system we used -- I just wanted to be able to talk to my baby. And the truth was, I didn't trust either system. All these words she is signing, I thought, are nouns. They're all concrete objects. Yes, I could understand how she learned the word "shoes" -- I pointed to her shoes, signed "shoes" and after a few times she got it. She was signing "shoes," and she was going to retrieve her own shoes if I signed the word; it was great -- exactly what a toddler needed to know. But how, I wondered, will she understand concepts? How will I ever teach her to express her feelings, her ideas and her dreams? In fact, it was her dreams that saved me. A few months after we had learned of her deafness, Bekah climbed into my bed in the early morning darkness, took my face in her hands to awaken me, and then when my eyes opened, she signed, "Dream, wow!" I burst into tears. "Dream, wow!" is a concept. You can't point to a dream and you can't hold one in your hands like a pair of shoes. And Bekah had learned the concept of dreaming the same way any hearing child learns it, of course. When we kissed her good night we told her "Sweet dreams"; when we read books to her, we pointed to the child in the bed and signed, "Maybe that boy is dreaming now." On occasion I would tell her what I had dreamt. This really works, I thought, as I lay in bed that morning, overwhelmed with relief, and watched my daughter's hands. Bekah had proved to me that she was learning a language that could express something we weren't looking at. I don't think I understood that I could be the kind of mother I longed to be until I knew that Bekah would be able to tell me her dreams. And that changed everything. It meant, for starters, that I could trust that Bekah could understand the consequences of her behavior. Understanding "You touch that stove, you get burned" depends on the toddler having language available. You don't have to allow children to get burned to teach the concept -- that is the magic of language. The next time they are near something hot, you can remind them, "It's hot, like the stove. Careful you don't get burned." It's hard enough to teach cause and effect to a toddler with language, but without it, it's impossible. It's hard enough to reassure preschoolers with language that Mommy will come back home after work, but without language, it simply cannot be done. There was an amazing custody case in North Carolina in 1996 in which Sonya Kinney, a deaf 15-year-old girl, pleaded for the court to dissolve her father's parental rights and give her guardianship instead to her sign language interpreter. Kinney's father argued that although he didn't sign, he loved his daughter -- he knew how to get her attention by stomping on the floor, and he gave her money to go to the mall. While her father and siblings said that Sonya was included in family times, she saw it differently. "If I have to live with them," she signed in court, "I am alone all the time." The remarkable thing about this case was that the judge agreed with the child. He ruled that her interpreter, Joanie Hughes, would be the better guardian because neither parent could "effectively and extensively communicate with Sonya without the assistance of others." The legal community and the media were surprised that for this reason a judge had decided against the biological parents. But those of us raising deaf children were surprised only that a judge had gotten it right. For the first time ever, in a court of law, it was declared that a deaf child deserves to have more than a stomp on the floor and money to go to the mall. A deaf child -- like any child -- deserves to be understood. There were five other deaf children Bekah's age in our school system, and we considered ourselves lucky that the number was so high, and that all of the families were learning to sign. Here were other adults who could understand both my daughter's language and my feelings. We formed a natural support group -- people with whom I could talk about issues like the shock of finding ourselves in this situation, how to get the school system to meet our kids' needs, and who else in our children's lives we could ask to learn sign language. My extended family lives across the country and sees my daughter only a couple of times a year. I never did ask them to learn to sign. My close friends, who see my daughter regularly, didn't need to be asked. They helped me find a sign language teacher, and, one night a week for a year, 15 people came to our home to study. In addition, 10 of my son's friends, second-graders at the time, came after school for weekly lessons. Nothing touched me more, that first year, than seeing nearly everyone who walked into our house give it a try. Nothing made me happier than watching my kids be able to have a conversation. "You only get one," my 7-year-old son, Lev, could explain as his 2-year-old sister checked out the plate of cookies I'd put out for his sign language class. "My cookies," she could argue, trying to correct Lev's impression that she was supposed to share anything. "No way," he could sign with one hand, slipping the plate out of her reach with the other. But then Bekah's language took off. My husband and son and I raced to keep up, but despite our friends' good intentions, as Bekah became more fluent, it was difficult for them to communicate with her. Sign is a complex language, people have busy schedules, and now, a dozen years later, none of the adults is capable of much signed conversation with Bekah. One dear friend's daughter, one niece who studied sign though she lived far away and one neighbor are fine signers, however, and given the opportunity to invite members of the community to join her to say a prayer at her bat mitzvah last year, Bekah, not surprisingly, chose these three young women. Although Bekah loves many of her relatives who don't sign, she misses the ability to have a conversation of depth, and so do they. Last year, another cousin and his wife moved to the area and they visit us often. "I wish I could sign," he told Bekah one night after a dinner where, with me interpreting, everyone was involved in the conversation. Bekah shrugged. "You could if you wanted to," she told him. "You could learn." When, a few weeks later, he came over and knew the signed alphabet and a couple dozen words, Bekah nodded in approval. "Not bad," she teased him, joyfully, as she corrected one of his signs. Like most hearing parents of deaf children, we also made a serious attempt to teach Bekah to speak. To pick up any possible sounds, she wore two powerful hearing aids at home, and, in addition, at school she was wired into an FM system so the teacher's voice would be amplified over background noises directly into the hearing aids. Bekah had speech therapy several times a week, and, to encourage lip reading, we always spoke as we signed. And she's had moderate success in this area. Her speech is usually clear enough, for example, to tell a salesperson what she wants, and those of us close to her can understand a lot of what she says. But for any in-depth conversation, Bekah uses ASL, and people who want direct, meaningful communication with her do as well. Having a deaf child brings with it many problems that I never would have known to think about: My new set of worries ranged from how Bekah would be aware of a fire alarm to how she would have access to popular culture. I'd never have guessed, for example, the loss I'd feel at not being able to sit on the couch and watch television with my daughter, or the burden of having to sit next to the TV and sign reruns of "Mr. Ed" and "Bewitched." So the passage of the Americans With Disabilities Act in 1990, when Bekah was 6 years old, brought us much-needed relief. The ADA's major emphasis was on accessibility and safety issues, and for us this meant that flashing lights were finally installed in her classroom and in the school bathrooms so the deaf children could know when the fire alarm rang. It meant that Bekah was able to attend a summer science program when she was 10 because the museum, funded by the state, was required to provide a sign language interpreter. It also meant that printed words began showing up on our television screen just about the same time that Bekah was becoming a skilled reader. More programs started offering closed-captioned dialogue, and, under the ADA, after 1993, all televisions were built so the viewer could turn on the captioning without having to buy an external device. And then I experienced another feeling I never would have expected: how wonderful it was, after our television became accessible to her, to do something as normal as limit the amount of time Bekah was allowed to watch it. Setting limits, in general, was harder for me to do with Bekah than it was for me to do with my son. I was aware of too many horror stories from deaf adults about punishments for misunderstanding, about not being listened to, and about isolation within their own families. So I felt very protective of Bekah, and tended, when she misbehaved, to excuse her by assuming there had been a lack of clear communication. It was always obvious to me that I wanted Bekah's teachers to have the same high expectations for her that they had for the hearing children, but it took longer for me to understand that I needed to ask the same thing of myself. In the early years, for example, if Bekah could say a word and we could understand it, she could have it. "Juice" brought juice, night or day. "Please" brought anything, and "sorry" excused all. In contrast, my hearing child, for whom speech was not a challenge, had no such powerful tool to get adults to do whatever he wanted. In nearly every family, there are reasons for each child to feel that the others have a better deal, but for us, deafness is always the weight that tips our scales. Lev has resented the amount of time and energy that has gone into meeting his sister's needs; Bekah has been envious of the quick, easy, familiar communication we have with her brother. Both have been frustrated, as well, by the effort it takes to communicate with the other one. But they do it. I suppose it's one of the gifts of family life that we're put in a situation where we can become intimate with people whom we might not otherwise choose to know. Like other siblings with enormous differences, my kids have figured out how to connect. And like other parents of kids who are becoming independent, I've had to figure out how to let go. This year, Lev left home to go to college and Bekah didn't want to join her father and me when we went to Michigan to visit him -- she wanted, she told us, to make the trip another weekend, by herself. Bekah had flown alone before, but she had always been brought to the plane by an adult in one city and greeted by another adult in the other city. I didn't like the idea that this time she'd have to arrive alone at an unfamiliar airport and then find the van that would take her to a campus she had never seen. At 14, Bekah was confident that she could do it, but I really wanted to say no, not yet, let's wait another year. Let's wait several. As the four of us sat at the dinner table talking about it when Lev was home on vacation, I quizzed Bekah on how she'd get from the plane to the university. She asked her brother to describe where she would find the van, and then to explain where she should be let off. "Okay," she signed, after she had gotten all the information, "then I'll write a note to the van driver, and it'll say, Hi, take me to the Michigan Union in Ann Arbor, please.' " She showed me the imaginary note on her palm and raised her eyebrows in that "so what's your problem?" expression. I took a breath, looked across the table at my husband for agreement, and put down my fork. "Sounds okay to me," I signed. We've been having a lot of talks like this lately -- about Bekah's changing freedoms, privileges and responsibilities. Like most parents, I'm talking about the responsibilities, and like most kids, she's talking about the privileges. We had an argument not long ago because Bekah thought that I was being too critical of her -- she's been very social this year, and I'd been telling her that she wasn't being responsible enough about her schoolwork. After weeks of snapping at each other, we finally both erupted and spent an hour angry and hurt, yelling and signing, trying to explain our positions. In other words, we had a fight, like most parents have with most 14-year-olds. The only difference was that, in addition to checking in to make sure that the other person understood our position and appreciated our feelings, we also had to check in to make sure the other one understood our language. When Bekah used an ASL expression that I had never seen, I made her explain it in signed English or by voice. When I yelled in frustration and dropped my signs, she made me repeat my point. Parent-child battles are hard, and when I went to bed that night I felt exhausted. But I felt something else too: I felt so grateful for the normality of what we were doing. We were a mom and a teenager working it out. Thomas Holcomb, a professor of deaf education at Ohlone College in California, has identified the stages that the deaf person from a hearing family goes through to reach what he calls a "positive bicultural identity"; that is, comfort and competence in both deaf and hearing situations. In his work with deaf students at the college level, Holcomb sees the rage, depression and confusion they experience as they struggle to develop a self-concept that includes acceptance of their own deafness. Because a crucial part of this development is dependent on social interactions, it is Holcomb's view that these deaf children must be exposed early and often to the deaf community. In fact, the rare students he interviewed who felt that their journey toward a positive bicultural identity was not long and difficult had parents who learned to embrace deaf culture early on, and who made sure their children had access to it. So, in addition to learning a whole new language in order to talk to my kid, and to doing everything else people do in order to be good enough parents, it seemed that I had one more task: I was supposed to become familiar with an entirely different culture -- a culture with which I had had absolutely no experience, and in which, by the way, I sometimes didn't feel particularly welcome. Give me a break, I thought, even as I read everything I could find by deaf authors, took Bekah to the museum on a Saturday morning it had a program that featured deaf artists, and brought her to my ASL class to meet my teacher. I have no time for this, I thought, as I drove her to a signing Santa Claus in a mall 40 minutes away. But I did it because I knew that the advice that deaf kids should have deaf role models was right. I believed that Bekah had to know and care about herself as a deaf person -- that she had to love herself for who she really was -- before she could know and care about anybody else. It wasn't easy for us to meet deaf adults when Bekah was in elementary school. She was, at that time, in self-contained classrooms for the deaf in the public schools, with all hearing teachers. But in sixth grade, she transferred to a school for the deaf. Most of the students there lived in the dorms during the week, but our home was close enough for Bekah to be a day student. In that environment, where half of the professional staff is deaf, a child never needs to wonder if deaf adults can be competent, productive, happy people. There's a history of hurt feelings between deaf and hearing people, and it's a rare deaf adult who hasn't been burned by the insensitivity of a hearing person. From the time Bekah was a year and a half old and using her hands to describe her world, people have stared at her and asked us both rude questions. "Is there any hope?" one particularly awful woman asked me at the pool's edge when Bekah was 7. Bekah was, at that moment, attempting to swim the width of the pool underwater, and for one foolish instant, I thought the woman was referring to that -- was there any hope that Bekah would accomplish this challenging task? But when I saw the look of pity on her face as she stared at my daughter, I understood what she had really meant. Yes, I thought, turning my back to her, I've got a lot of hope for this kid. For starters, I hope she'll never be a thoughtless jerk like you. Not long ago, I sat at a meeting where a deaf dorm counselor spoke about her pain when hearing parents don't want to discuss their children with her. There are parents, she explained, who ask for the help of a hearing counselor -- even one who doesn't know their child -- rather than communicate with her. She spoke about other hearing parents who won't use a teletypewriter -- a small keyboard, known as a TTY, that connects to a phone line and makes it accessible to deaf people -- because they say it's too much trouble to type. This not only sends a hurtful message to the counselor, who is a skilled professional caring for their child, but, perhaps more importantly, it sends a negative message to the child as well: It says we don't value the person we have working with you, and by extension, we don't value you. This isn't a message that any parent wants to give. I'm aware, too, that hearing parents have had their feelings hurt by deaf adults. One mother told me how a deaf woman explained to the other woman's little boy how she and he were the same and he and his mom were different. "You and me," the deaf woman told the toddler, "we're on the same team." Yet, despite this history of conflict, we all care about the kids. And it's essential, for them, that we learn to cross the great divide. For the first few years after I learned that Bekah was deaf, I had only casual contacts with deaf adults. But one evening in 1989, due to a technical problem, a deaf woman and I got to visit for an hour. I had been invited to be on a panel for an educational cable television program that was examining PL142, the federal law that requires what is called "full inclusion" for disabled children. Like many people involved in deaf education, I question this phrase, which too often means the only choice is mainstreaming the student in the local school with an interpreter. Full inclusion for our children, we argue, means not only that they're able to know what the teacher is saying, but also that they can talk to their classmates. It means that they can be involved in sports, in social life and in after-school activities. Full inclusion for our kids often means that they be allowed to go to a school for the deaf. So we were there to talk about this topic, but there was a glitch -- the technicians needed extra time to set up the cameras and lighting so they wouldn't be shining bright lights into the eyes of the deaf people as they watched the conversation. In most instances I wouldn't be very patient while waiting for a technician to figure out how to set up his lighting, but that evening, as I had my first real conversation with a deaf adult, I was thrilled that it took so long. We talked about our kids, our thoughts about different styles of education, and where she got that great purse. We gossiped about my ASL teacher, and worried about the development of a child we both knew. "Call me and we'll chat," Hedy signed when the evening was over, giving me her phone number, and it was to her, the very next day, that I made my first TTY call. In the decade since that meeting, Hedy has given me guidance about deaf culture and education, and I appreciate that. But what's much more important to me is that we've become friends. I know that the reason professionals in the deaf community encourage hearing parents to expose their children to deaf adults is that the children need role models. But I found out along the way that I needed to see successful deaf adults just as much as my daughter did. Like most hearing people, I had been raised believing that a person without hearing can't lead a full, satisfying life, and as the mother of a deaf child, I needed to know that was wrong. When I first became aware of deaf culture, I was surprised by the phrase "the deaf world," as in the sentence "Yes, he has clear speech, but he's much more comfortable living in the deaf world." It sounded like science fiction to me -- like some sort of parallel universe. It frightened me to think that my child would live in a different "world" from mine, and I resisted believing that there was such a thing. But a lot has happened to me and to my beliefs over the years, and I know now that there are indeed different worlds. I know, too, that there are bridges between them and that my daughter and I need to figure out how to cross these bridges as often and as gracefully as possible. And I know that sometimes it isn't possible to do that. I had lunch recently with five of the mothers from my old support group. One woman, a single mother of one deaf and one hearing daughter, had recently turned 50. Her present to herself was a new car, and we all applauded her. "I got a wonderful music system in it," she confessed to us -- "a CD player." As she told us this nice news, we watched the tears drip down her face. In any other room, her crying would have been incomprehensible, but not in this group. Each of us had, in her own way, turned off the music long ago, and we know what it means to turn it back on. It means that we will be enjoying something that isn't available to our children. It means that we are accepting a seat at a table where our children are not included. And there are tables at which we cannot sit as well. Some of Bekah's close friends have deaf parents, and recently Bekah was invited on a weekend camping trip that several deaf families were taking together. But the rest of our family wasn't invited to join the group, and I think that's appropriate. I look forward to visiting with deaf friends when we drop off our kids at each other's homes, watch a school basketball game together or, on occasion, share a family dinner, but spending the weekend communicating in ASL would be hard for me, and for my husband and son. So Bekah gets to sit at that table -- a table that doesn't include the rest of us. I'm envious of the ease of communication in deaf families, but I'm very grateful that those tables are there for my daughter. Bekah did sit at the large table for Thanksgiving dinner last year. She and I arranged the seats so that she'd be near the fluent signers, and we rented a movie so she could excuse herself and go watch it if she felt too bored or left out. She busied herself with serving dessert, she spoke superficially to individual people, and when Bekah and a non-signer wanted more of a conversation they grabbed one of us to interpret. It wasn't a perfect solution, but it was the best we could do. At every stage of Bekah's growth we are forced to re-solve this problem, and we always question what is the best way. But there is something that we don't doubt: Bekah belongs at that table -- and it is our responsibility, and hers, to make sure she's there. Recently, I watched my daughter in an animated, humorous discussion with one of her good friends as they ate breakfast and speed-signed exquisite ASL. When I sat down with my coffee and entered into the conversation, the girls slowed down their signing. When I missed a phrase, which was often, Bekah used her voice to interpret for me. The pace changed, the discussion got less natural, the two girls repeated more and checked in with me often to see if I understood. And yet, despite these problems, I felt this: There was a place for me at her table. It is, as our children become adults, what all parents want. Wendy Lichtman is a writer living in California.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
We had 19 people coming for Thanksgiving last year and no matter how we juggled the plates and chairs, my 14-year-old daughter, Bekah, and I were able to squeeze only 18 places at our rented table. Bekah, who is deaf and uses sign language to communicate, stood holding the extra plate.

# data[].attributes.body
Cultural Language and Diversity and the Deaf Experience
https://www.amazon.com/Cultural-Language-Diversity-Deaf-Experience/dp/0521645654/ref=sr_1_1?crid=ESW5JNHOIA7M&keywords=cultural+and+language+diversity+and+the+deaf+experience&qid=1646143069&s=books&sprefix=cultural+and+language+diversity+and+the+deaf+experience%2Cstripbooks%2C41&sr=1-1

Deaf Culture Behind Bars
https://www.amazon.com/Deaf-Culture-Behind-Bars-Population/dp/0967399858/ref=sr_1_1?crid=1857JF24CCNM0&keywords=deaf+culture+behind+bars&qid=1646143140&s=books&sprefix=deaf+culture+behind+bars%2Cstripbooks%2C52&sr=1-1

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.readable_text
An Intimate Journey into the Heart of the Deaf Community

Don't Just "Sign"...Communicate! prepares you to interact with the deaf and hard of hearing - in a knowledgeable and respectful way - by giving you an exclusive glimpse into this rich and diverse community.

This eye-opening book will ignite your senses and eliminate any misconceptions you may have about the deaf community. Delve into this informative and entertaining collection of personal stories culled from the writings of talented Deaf, deaf, hard of hearing, and late-deafened people.

Experience the world from their perspectives and learn what questions and comments are best avoided and what common courtesies are most appreciated. By reading this book, you can immerse yourself in the textured world of the deaf community.

Pulsing with vibrant stories, this carefully compiled anthology swings the door open wide and invites you in. Run with "Broken Ears," a Chippewa native whose struggle to triumph over discrimination is compounded by deafness. "Touch the sound of snowflakes" with percussionist Evelyn Glennie. Experience the isolation of "Deaf Brown Gurl," an exotic beauty yearning to fit in. And "follow the music through vibrations" with grand illusionist Sam Sandler. Get to know them and many others. Their stories will reach right off the page, grab you by the heart, and pull you in...

This book is meant as a guide to equip ASL students, but it is so much more... It is a book for the masses - to be read and reread, to be savored - for it will resonate with you long after the last page is turned...

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Don't Just "Sign"... Communicate!: A Student's Guide to the Deaf Experience

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
Don't Just Sign ... Communicate!: A Student's Guide to the Deaf Experience [Jay, Michelle] on Amazon.com. *FREE* shipping on qualifying offers. Don't Just Sign ... Communicate!: A Student's Guide to the Deaf Experience

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C9M18CY0gsg

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Gallaudet Women's Volleyball  🆚 Catholic (10/02/2019)

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E9FLjxfc3Vg

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Gallaudet football players communicate with sign language

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.youtube.com/c/GallaudetU

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.keywords[]
gallaudet university video deaf hard of hearing students education college yt:cc=on

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
Gallaudet University Video Gallery Gallaudet University is the world leader in liberal education and career development for deaf and hard-of-hearing undergraduate students. The University enjoys an international reputation for the outstanding graduate programs it provides deaf, hard-of-hearing, and hearing students, as well as for the quality of the research it conducts on the history, language, culture, and other topics related to deaf people.

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8BIEoB8RvEc

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vLnwOqLo58I

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
sharing our raw and painful experiences at the university

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qT0c07S2GSY

# data[].attributes.headline
Gallaudet Memories- First time arriving to campus

# data[].attributes.subject
Gallaudet Memories- First time arriving to campus

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lPNQDyGAHXs

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ORVMHV8sEn0

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8_gtU-X3Iuc

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Gallaudet: What to and NOT bring to college

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tUGRbNN6RRY

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Visit to Gallaudet University in Washington DC, fun day! (vlog)

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=exqMvmUCGUY

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Which Dorms I Used To Lived In? Gallaudet University

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCaayieDFpDIZ1b_mspO_Rzg

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
The Daily Moth delivers news in video using American Sign Language. The Deaf host, Alex Abenchuchan, covers trending stories and Deaf topics with a twist of humor and Deaf culture. www.dailymoth.com

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GYedLv-1hB0

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
'CODA' Makes History for Deaf Community at SAG Awards

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OJgRM1mn3h8

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cIq4SYJmiYE

# data[].attributes.headline
Paint It Loud by Emily Steinberg Part 1 & Part II

# data[].attributes.subject
Paint It Loud by Emily Steinberg Part 1 & Part II

# data[].attributes.body
Betty G Miller

Part I
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CnVb62CCREk&t=266s

Part II
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lwSarFiSU3c

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Paint It Loud by Emily Steinberg Part II

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XZGI5aJyzuk

# data[].attributes.headline
RMDS Betty G. Miller/Chuck Baird Tribute 2017

# data[].attributes.subject
RMDS Betty G. Miller/Chuck Baird Tribute 2017

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U3huZHD7-uw

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
RMDS Betty G. Miller/Chuck Baird Tribute  2017

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cjvyyPEnrok

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=okhvNjWDXy4

# data[].attributes.headline
Betty G. Miller: Mother of De'VIA--Poem in ASL (and English)

# data[].attributes.subject
Betty G. Miller: Mother of De'VIA--Poem in ASL (and English)

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nRV2DXz0E0w

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Betty G. Miller: Mother of De'VIA--Poem in ASL (and English)

# data[].attributes.headline
Deaf Poet's Visual Poetry: A Creative Storytelling Without Words | Think | NBC News

# data[].attributes.subject
Deaf Poet's Visual Poetry: A Creative Storytelling Without Words | Think | NBC News

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xRcwVRf5BS8

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Deaf Poet's Visual Poetry: A Creative Storytelling Without Words | Think | NBC News

# data[].attributes.headline
Mandy Harvey: Deaf Singer Earns Simon's Golden Buzzer With Original Song - America's Got Talent 2017

# data[].attributes.subject
Mandy Harvey: Deaf Singer Earns Simon's Golden Buzzer With Original Song - America's Got Talent 2017

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZKSWXzAnVe0

# data[].attributes.headline
How I Learned Sign Language From My Deaf Boyfriend

# data[].attributes.subject
How I Learned Sign Language From My Deaf Boyfriend

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j6_fASyM1Xg

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
How I Learned Sign Language From My Deaf Boyfriend

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FBxF3KGgIl4

# data[].attributes.headline
NAD Asks Academy To Stop Rewarding Miscastin

# data[].attributes.subject
NAD Asks Academy To Stop Rewarding Miscastin

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=igo0nvFcVB4

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
NAD Asks Academy To Stop Rewarding Miscasting

# data[].attributes.headline
(ASL VLOG) JET LAG: Natalie's emotional experience

# data[].attributes.subject
(ASL VLOG) JET LAG: Natalie's emotional experience

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_OYgiw1Pvr8

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
(ASL VLOG) JET LAG: Natalie's emotional experience

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pXc_w49fsmI

# data[].attributes.headline
Phillip Phillips' "Home" in ASL by Deaf Film Camp at CM7

# data[].attributes.subject
Phillip Phillips' "Home" in ASL by Deaf Film Camp at CM7

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CxHMO4mH16k

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Phillip Phillips' "Home" in ASL by Deaf Film Camp at CM7

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QIowP0T58W4

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.youtube.com/c/rosaleeshow/featured

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
Share your videos with friends, family, and the world

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wDcAIEsH57E

# data[].attributes.headline
ASL song "Roar" by Deaf children at KDES

# data[].attributes.subject
ASL song "Roar" by Deaf children at KDES

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mleuokFfufY

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
ASL song "Roar" by Deaf children at KDES

# data[].attributes.headline
Social Media Dystopia (ASL-TUT Short Story)

# data[].attributes.subject
Social Media Dystopia (ASL-TUT Short Story)

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6jRQFWgWaFA

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Social Media Dystopia (ASL-TUT Short Story)

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCfEalJW91FE9BDH9xUVDvvg

Lots of resources on her channel

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
DISCLAIMER: I am sharing MY personal experiences as a deaf individual. I aim to be as welcoming as possible, but my point of view does not represent the opinions of everyone in the deaf community. My content reflects my personal opinions, please remember everyone's experiences are diverse. HELLO! My name is Chrissy!

# data[].attributes.headline
ASL Version of Chris Soukup's "Authenticity is Powerful" Quote

# data[].attributes.subject
ASL Version of Chris Soukup's "Authenticity is Powerful" Quote

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=svSKsGIUwHQ

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
ASL Version of Chris Soukup's "Authenticity is Powerful" Quote

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8eVqlUh6A0g&t=153s

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=witq6XzLWQk&t=112s

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.authors[].name
Connecticut Historical Society Museum and Library

# data[].attributes.headline
Lauren Ridloff Brings Authentic Deaf Representation To The Big Screen | SEEN | NowThis

# data[].attributes.subject
Lauren Ridloff Brings Authentic Deaf Representation To The Big Screen | SEEN | NowThis

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oRAVNRSUSt0

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Lauren Ridloff Brings Authentic Deaf Representation To The Big Screen | SEEN | NowThis

# data[].attributes.headline
Celebrating and preserving Black American Sign Language

# data[].attributes.subject
Celebrating and preserving Black American Sign Language

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eyCdz3Y_EdI

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Celebrating and preserving Black American Sign Language

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TYoLGvKcBpI

# data[].attributes.headline
Deaf people diagnosed with cancer face 'big barriers'

# data[].attributes.subject
Deaf people diagnosed with cancer face 'big barriers'

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.bbc.com/news/uk-scotland-60231182

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.readable_text
By Angie Brown
BBC Scotland News

Coleen McSorley, who has been deaf from birth, was left upset and struggling to understand the details of her cancer diagnosis. Now one care centre is hoping to offer more support to others facing a similar challenge.

Coleen was diagnosed with breast cancer in September 2020.

At the time, Covid restrictions meant she was unable to bring an interpreter or her hearing parents to hospital appointments.

The 56-year-old said she was given wads of literature about her cancer - but like many people who have been deaf from birth, she struggles to read.

"English is my second language after British Sign Language," said the cleaner, from Stirling.

"At the hospital a big barrier was they were wearing too many masks. They were all talking at me but I didn't understand what they were saying, it was horrendous.

"I felt frustrated because I wanted them to pull down their masks so I could try to lip read a little bit, but they wouldn't and it was very confusing."

Coleen, who had an interpreter to help her with this interview, said the process was difficult because she was given a lot of thick booklets that she could not read.

"I would receive emails from nurses but I couldn't read them and I wasn't allowed an interpreter into my house at that time, it was very hard," she said.

Coleen discovered she had cancer following a trip to the physio after she felt she had pulled a muscle in her neck.

She said: "There was a pain in my shoulder and it hurt so much. When the physio asked me to lie face down on the table I had pain in my chest.

"There were lumps in my breast which could move but I just thought it was the change of life and put it down to hormones."

'Everything came out'

Her physio was concerned and gave her a letter to take to her doctor.

At the GP's surgery she was still not allowed an interpreter and Coleen said she did not understand anything that was going on.

She had biopsies and a mammogram, and by the time she had her appointment with a consultant she was allowed to take an interpreter.

Coleen said she could tell that the consultant "was serious and told me straight" - although the interpreter used softer sign language to try to ease the blow.

"I never cried, I held everything in because my husband wasn't allowed to be there and I was on my own," she explained.

However, she said that "everything came tumbling out" when she was moved into a grief room with a nurse.

"I kept saying: 'Why me?' I was crying and not coping, the tears kept flowing, I was very emotional and I wanted to go home."

Coleen, who had stage three cancer, was treated with chemotherapy and had a mastectomy. She has now recovered.

She found out about the Maggie's centres when she was being fitted with a wig.

Coleen said she felt more comfortable after she met Yvonne McIntosh, an oncology nurse and centre head at the Maggie's Forth Valley cancer care drop-in centre.

"I felt my mental health wasn't good until I came to Maggie's, but they explain everything to me.

"Maggie's has really calmed me down," she said.

Yvonne said that even with an interpreter, a lot of information could be lost in translation.

"A lot of sense and meaning is lost and things can land differently so they don't come across with the same context," she said.

"When Coleen came to us she didn't know what the pills were that she was taking.

"She didn't understand about her treatment and didn't know how her medication worked for her."

Yvonne says she wants to run a workshop for deaf people with cancer.

"Deaf people think there is no support for them so I've only had two deaf people here at Maggie's in my career.

"They lack the exposure to cancer information which hearing people take for granted.

"When Coleen came to us she thought her cancer was going to come back and she was struggling with things, but now she has all the information and support."

Related Internet Links

The BBC is not responsible for the content of external sites.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Deaf people diagnosed with cancer face 'big barriers'

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
By Angie Brown BBC Scotland News Coleen McSorley, who has been deaf from birth, was left upset and struggling to understand the details of her cancer diagnosis. Now one care centre is hoping to offer more support to others facing a similar challenge. Coleen was diagnosed with breast cancer in September 2020.

# data[].attributes.headline
Deaf organization conducts police trainings at state headquarters

# data[].attributes.subject
Deaf organization conducts police trainings at state headquarters

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.brproud.com/news/local-news/deaf-organization-conducts-police-trainings-at-state-headquarters/

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.readable_text
BATON ROUGE, La. (BRPROUD)- One organization is advocating for the deaf community in Louisiana by training police.

Deaf Focus is a non-profit that helps educate the community and provide the necessary resources for a more inclusive environment.

On Friday, the non-profit held two group sessions where they trained cadets, rookies, and officers to bring more awareness when interacting with people in the deaf community.

"To have the police have this type of training is to help reduce lawsuits, to help reduce various discrimination, and to help reduce problems and issues that may arise in the deaf community. Being afraid of police officers, we're trying to make the police more deaf friendly so they can have a better relationship with the deaf community and understand them a little bit more," Deaf Focus Director Jay Isch said.

To continue the conversation, we'll be highlighting the adversities people in the deaf community face everyday, on Sunday night on NBC Local 33 News at 10 p.m. and on FOX 44 News at 9 p.m.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Deaf organization conducts police trainings at state headquarters

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
BATON ROUGE, La. (BRPROUD)- One organization is advocating for the deaf community in Louisiana by training police. Deaf Focus is a non-profit that helps educate the community and provide the necessary resources for a more inclusive environment.

# data[].attributes.headline
Long time coming: Florida School for the Deaf & the Blind girls hoops team treasures 1st playoff berth

# data[].attributes.subject
Long time coming: Florida School for the Deaf & the Blind girls hoops team treasures 1st playoff berth

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.news4jax.com/sports/2022/02/10/long-time-coming-florida-school-for-deaf-blind-girls-basketball-team-treasures-1st-playoff-berth/

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Long time coming: Florida School for the Deaf & the Blind girls hoops team treasures 1st playoff berth

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
Decades and decades of basketball at the Florida School for the Deaf and the Blind have never yielded an FHSAA girls basketball state playoff berth. The Dragons earned the No. 8 seed in Region 1-3A and will travel to face Tallahassee’s Florida High on Thursday night.

# data[].attributes.body
https://abcnews.go.com/GMA/Culture/troy-kotsur-feels-blessed-1st-deaf-man-nominated/story?id=82753819

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.readable_text
The actor received a best supporting actor nomination for his role in "CODA."

Troy Kotsur, the first deaf man nominated for an acting Oscar for his role in "CODA," said that he feels "blessed," and like he's "received an honorary Ph.D."

"It's really not been easy to get to this point, but I feel extremely honored," he told ABC News. "And just-- it's been awesome."

"CODA," which stands for Child of Deaf Adults, tells the story of Ruby Rossi, the only hearing person in her family living from a fishing town in Massachusetts. Kotsur plays Ruby's father, Frank Rossi.

In addition to Kotsur's Oscar nomination for best supporting actor, the movie was also nominated for best adapted screenplay and best picture, one of the first movies with a predominantly deaf cast to do so.

Kotsur said the deaf community is "thrilled" to see American Sign Language captured on the big screen in "CODA."

"It's really important to show hearing people what it's like as a fly on the wall and immerse themselves in deaf culture," he said. And really, we had the right team, the right story, the right cast and crew and it just hit it at the right moment."

Kotsur also spoke highly of his co-star Marlee Matlin, who played his character's wife Jackie Rossi and was the first deaf performer to win an Academy Award.

"We always said we hope to work together one day," he said. "And Marlee told me, 'Hey, Troy, you're on my bucket list,' and so it's such a blessing. We got to have so much fun working together on 'CODA.'"

Following his work on "CODA," Kotsur said he has several projects in the works, including one called "Flash before the Bang," a true story about a team of eight deaf runners from the Oregon School for the Deaf, who won the state championship in the 80s.

"The title comes from deaf runners having to see a flash of the starter pistol before the sound," he said. "It's kind of like feeling thunder before seeing lightning."

With the recognition that "CODA" is receiving, Kotsur said he hopes it will help to change how the world perceives deaf people.

"It's such a blessing that Hollywood will begin to recognize deaf talent and increase deaf awareness," he said. "And I hope that it changes their perspective, rather than thinking of deaf people as villains or folks to have sympathy about, it is a culture. It is a language. We have our own language and we have our own culture."

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Troy Kotsur says he feels 'blessed' to be 1st deaf man nominated for an Oscar

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
The actor received a best supporting actor nomination for his role in "CODA." Troy Kotsur, the first deaf man nominated for an acting Oscar for his role in "CODA," said that he feels "blessed," and like he's "received an honorary Ph.D."

# data[].attributes.headline
Deaf Bengals fan going to Super Bowl advocates for other deaf NFL fans

# data[].attributes.subject
Deaf Bengals fan going to Super Bowl advocates for other deaf NFL fans

# data[].attributes.body
https://local12.com/news/local/deaf-bengals-fan-going-to-super-bowl-advocates-for-other-deaf-nfl-fansmeg-buckhard-hard-of-hearing-differently-abled-football-sports-los-angeles-sofi-stadium-california-cincinnati-ohio

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Deaf Bengals fan going to Super Bowl advocates for other deaf NFL fans

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
CINCINNATI (WKRC) – A dream came true for a die-hard Cincinnati Bengals fan who is deaf. She’s traveled to home Bengals games, and is now heading to the Super Bowl. Caption: Deaf Bengals fan going to Super Bowl advocates for other deaf NFL fans (WKRC, Meg Burkhard) Over the years, Meg Burkhard…

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MqNQxGCduds&t=14s

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.nytimes.com/2022/02/10/us/super-bowl-honorary-captains-school-deaf-riverside.html

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Deaf Football Players Forge a Path to the Super Bowl

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
After a record-breaking season, four players from the California School for the Deaf, Riverside, were invited to Sunday’s game as honorary captains.

# data[].attributes.headline
Deaf Community wants more than just a drivers license symbol

# data[].attributes.subject
Deaf Community wants more than just a drivers license symbol

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.nbcrightnow.com/news/deaf-community-wants-more-than-just-a-drivers-license-symbol/article_37db8634-8a7d-11ec-9c26-b3343e85f772.html

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.readable_text
Taralynn Petrites is hesitant to get a deaf symbol on her license.

The deaf community needs more than just a symbol, said Deaf and Sign Language assistant professor at CWU, Petrites. She said they need to trust law enforcement officials to know what to do with it.

And that trust comes from basic sign language training, said Petrites. She said if more officials knew sign language, more deaf people would benefit from having the symbol - especially in emergencies.

"I've met several police officers that have felt like they need to respond immediately but my suggestion would be to give it a moment and understand what the individual is doing," said Petrites.

Officers should know how to sign questions like, 'are you okay," or 'can you see me," said Petrites. She said every deaf person is different, they may want an interpreter.

She said she knows several deaf people that were wrongfully arrested because of communication confusion.

Officers should also know how to sign for license, registration, and insurance said Petrites.

Yakima police have zero ASL certified officers, said the Yakima Police Department patrol administrative Sgt., Scott Grant. He said they often use their phone's notes app to communicate with deaf people on the road.

Washington State Patrol doesn't track secondary language skills, said WSP communications director, Chris Loftis.

Petrites said she was thankful one WSP trooper knew sign language when she was pulled over.

"That helped me a lot as far as trust goes and building that trust," said Patrites.

Medical conditions and developmental disabilities can also be displayed on a license/ID or record. How to add one or more for free .

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Deaf community wants more than just a driver's license symbol

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
Taralynn Petrites is hesitant to get a deaf symbol on her license. The deaf community needs more than just a symbol, said Deaf and Sign Language assistant professor at CWU, Petrites. She said they need to trust law enforcement officials to know what to do with it.

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.clickondetroit.com/news/2022/02/10/deaf-detroit-rapper-to-perform-during-halftime-of-super-bowl-56/

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.readable_text
DETROIT - We are getting closer to the biggest game of the year with the Los Angeles Rams, and the Cincinnati Bengals set to face off at Super Bowl LVI Sunday (Feb. 13) night right here on Local 4.

For some, the halftime show is the bigger draw than the actual game.

This year's halftime performers include future Rock and Roll Hall Of Famer Eminem with Dr. Dre, Snoop Dogg, Mary J. Blige, Kendrick Lamar and Deaf Detroit rapper Sean Forbes.

Forbes grew up in a family of musicians. His uncle even mixed for Bob Seger. At 54 Sound in Ferndale, Forbes crossed paths with one of his heroes, Eminem. Now the two will share a stage.

"I'm still pinching myself," Forbes said. "It's just incredible." It did feel a bit like a dream when Forbes got the call to ask if he wanted to be part of the Super Bowl halftime show.

"I was like, 'it's not even debatable,'" Forbes said. "Number one, my entire music career has been influenced by Dr. Dre, Snoop Dogg, and especially the hometown boy Eminem; I said I'm in."

He'll also be alongside Wawa, who is also a deaf rapper. What they do is best described as an expressive sign language performance to the music that, yes, they hear through the heavy bass.

Forbes has played big shows before, including with Stevie Wonder also in Los Angeles, but this will be different.

"I'm going to take it all in, not to say I didn't appreciate the other experiences, I did, but I was so living in the moment," said Forbes. "I'm really excited about this."

Yeah, he's a role model for so many, but the 40-year-old rapper's biggest cheerleaders are his family.

"My wife and kids dropped me off at the airport," Forbes said. "My youngest was so full of pride she said, '"dad, go and kill it.'" "It was emotional, especially since we've been living in the pandemic. It's been hard for a lot of us not performing, not being able to express who we are, hard to do it from the computer. To be able to do it on the stage with the cameras on stage, if you give it your all, there's nothing better than that."

You can watch Super Bowl LVI right here on Local 4. We will have coverage all day long, beginning with a special edition of Local 4 News Today at 6 a.m. and then kick off at 6:30 p.m.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Deaf Detroit rapper to perform during halftime of Super Bowl 56

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
We are getting closer to the biggest game of the year with the Los Angeles Rams, and the Cincinnati Bengals set to face off at Super Bowl LVI Sunday (Feb. 13) night right here on Local 4.For some, the halftime show is the bigger draw than the actual game.

# data[].attributes.headline
The former principal of the Hawaii School for the Deaf and Blind is getting his job back.

# data[].attributes.subject
The former principal of the Hawaii School for the Deaf and Blind is getting his job back.

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.hawaiinewsnow.com/2022/02/27/former-principal-school-deaf-blind-be-reinstated/

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.readable_text
HONOLULU (HawaiiNewsNow) - The former principal of the Hawaii School for the Deaf and Blind is getting his job back.

In 2019, the state Department of Education complex superintendent recommended that Angel Ramos, who was principal at the time, be demoted. The department brought in a temporarily assigned principal and transferred Ramos to another campus.

At that time, DOE said they would not talk about personnel matters.

But a state arbitrator has now said he must be reinstated.

Ramos says he's thrilled to be returning to the Hawaii School for the Deaf and Blind. He said it's the start to a new beginning and is ready to rebuild the school again.

"To be honest with you, three years has been tough ... but I'm happy it's over," said Ramos.

Ramos is looking forward to seeing his students and teachers again.

"I missed everything about the school," said Ramos, who is deaf and fluent in ASL.

Students and staff say the school regressed after he left.

"When Dr. Ramos left, of course, all the students were sad," said HSDB student Eva Silva-Ewan. "You know, our mental health went down. We weren't happy as we used to be, sometimes people were missing classes."

And now they're looking forward to seeing him around campus again following a state arbitrator's orders.

"He's very encouraging to students," said HSDB student Dane Silva-Ewan. "He encourages them to do well and do their best in school."

"I am very happy, I am excited that he will come back to where we left off, we may have to play a little bit of catch up," said former Vice Principal of Steve Laracuente. "Because it looks like this school has stopped a few programs."

Moving forward, Ramos and his former colleagues want to establish their own board of directors with majority of them deaf.

"People who are experts in deaf education, representatives from the deaf community, perhaps even students who can give feedback to the school on how they can improve."

"We must get away from DOE management, make us independent," said Ramos. "Let us run the school, we know what's best for deaf students."

A spokeswoman from DOE released the following statement:
"The Department is in receipt of the arbitrator's report and is reviewing and discussing next steps. We cannot discuss further details of this personnel matter at this time." Copyright 2022 Hawaii News Now. All rights reserved.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
After lengthy inquiry, former principal of Hawaii School for Deaf and Blind to be reinstated

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
HONOLULU (HawaiiNewsNow) - The former principal of the Hawaii School for the Deaf and Blind is getting his job back. In 2019, the state Department of Education complex superintendent recommended that Angel Ramos, who was principal at the time, be demoted. The department brought in a temporarily assigned principal and transferred Ramos to another campus.

# data[].attributes.body
https://dpan.tv/

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
DPAN.TV | The Sign Language Channel - The #1 source for accessible video content!

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
The only source for accessible news broadcasted daily in ASL with voice over and captions! Including a diverse library of original content available on-demand!

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.deafvideo.tv

# data[].attributes.body
https://twitter.com/deaftv

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.embed_code
Tweets by DeafTV

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2021/07/16/arts/kamala-harris-name-sign-language.html

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.readable_text
Shortly after the 2020 presidential election, five women joined forces with a mission: assigning Vice President-elect Kamala Harris a name sign, the equivalent of a person's name in American Sign Language.

The women, Ebony Gooden, Kavita Pipalia, Smita Kothari, Candace Jones and Arlene Ngalle-Paryani - as Black and Indian members of the "capital D Deaf community" (a term used by some deaf people to indicate that they embrace deafness as a cultural identity and communicate primarily through ASL) - felt it was important that the selection of Ms. Harris's name sign be the result of an inclusive and democratic process. Given that Vice President Harris was the first female vice president, as well as the first Black and Indian candidate to fill the role, they agreed that her heritage should inform that process, the women recalled in an interview using interpreters.

Turning to social media, they called on other Black and Indian deaf women to join their effort. They set up a system for people to submit suggestions for a name sign, advertised their initiative and its guidelines, led virtual panels and collected video submissions. Eventually, they put the entries to a vote.

Ms. Ngalle-Paryani's own submission won: a hand gesture that involves rotating your wrist externally as your thumb, index and middle finger unfurl open. The draws inspiration, among other things, from the sign for "lotus flower" - the direct translation of the word "Kamala" in Sanskrit - and incorporates the number 3 to underscore Ms. Harris's trifecta of firsts.

"It's truly a badge of honor," Ms. Ngalle-Paryani said, signing, of the selection of her submission. "I really do feel that it fits Madam Vice President."

Name signs, also known as sign names, are an important component of "capital D Deaf" culture. In 1992, the linguist Samuel J. Supalla noted in "The Book of Name Signs" that they serve two functions: They provide deaf people with a way to identify themselves and others in conversation, while also representing "a Deaf person's membership in the Deaf community."

Isabella Kogan

Zavier Sabio

Marsellette Davis

Benjamin J. Bahan, a professor in the Deaf Studies department at Gallaudet University in Washington, D.C., the nation's only liberal arts university devoted to deaf people, said that "name signs usually come from parents who are deaf." If a child does not receive one growing up, perhaps because he or she was raised by hearing parents, he added, the name may be assigned at a later stage.

As people go through life, they may receive new name signs that replace earlier ones. If they have a strong connection to other countries, they may also receive name signs in other sign languages, such as Japanese Sign Language or Russian Sign Language. (Vice President Harris was recently assigned a name sign in British Sign Language.)

[Video description: Via Zoom, Arlene Ngalle-Paryani, wearing a purple shirt with a lotus graphic, begins to sign] I'm part of the group of five women who voted and selected the sign name for Vice President Kamala Harris. [Five women, including Arlene, appear in a grid and sign the newly selected name sign for Vice President Kamala Harris. Then, Candace Jones, wearing a purple shirt, begins to sign] I just have to tell you, there are special rules. If a hearing person wants to have a name sign, they cannot make it up themselves because they're not deaf, and they're not culturally deaf. So they have to allow a deaf person to identify their characteristics, maybe their facial features, their personality, and the deaf person will assign them a sign name. [Smita Kothari, wearing yellow, begins to sign] There often are sign names given to leaders, and it's mostly the white community who gets involved. [Kavita Pipalia, wearing pink and orange, begins to sign] We needed to be involved as women representatives, and demonstrate that women can become leaders. [Ebony Gooden, wearing a white shirt, begins to sign] Coming together as a group and creating a safe space to combine our voices, our culture, our language, our different beliefs, and allow our differences to vibe with each other. We had to grab this opportunity. [Arlene begins to sign] I'm the one that created the sign name. Which was an honor. I did research into what Kamala's name meant, which is lotus flower. And when I read about the lotus flower, the characteristics of it, I found that the lotus flower has very large blossoms with very deep, muddy roots. And out of that deep muddiness, it still grows a beautiful and strong flower. Now, the reason why the hand shape represents the number 3 is because she's the first woman vice president, and she's also the first Black and Indian vice president. Also, the lotus has its blossoms that we sign with the "five" hand shape, but for Kamala, we use "three." I found it to be very important for me to become involved with the creation of Vice President Kamala Harris's sign name because I'm Black and I'm biracial. I'm not Indian, but I am Hispanic. And my child is half Black mixed with Hispanic and Indian. So I feel a strong connection with Kamala Harris. It was worth it for me to contribute. [Video ends.]

I'm part of the group of five women

who voted and selected the sign name for Vice President Kamala Harris.

I just have to tell you, there are special rules.

If a hearing person wants to have a name sign,

they cannot make it up themselves because they're not deaf,

and they're not culturally deaf.

So they have to allow a deaf person

to identify their characteristics.

Maybe their facial features, their personality,

and the deaf person will assign them a sign name.

There often are sign names given to leaders,

and it's mostly the white community who gets involved.

We needed to be involved as women representatives,

to demonstrate that women can become leaders.

Coming together as a group and creating a safe space to combine our voices,

our culture, our language, our different beliefs,

allowing our differences to vibe with each other.

We had to grab this opportunity.

I'm the one who created the sign name,

which was an honor.

I did research into what Kamala's name meant, which is lotus flower.

And when I read about the lotus flower, the characteristics of it,

I found that the lotus flower has very large blossoms with very deep, muddy roots.

And out of that deep muddiness, it still grows a beautiful and strong flower.

Now, the reason why the hand shape represents the number 3

is because she's the first woman vice president,

and she's also the first Black and Indian vice president.

Also, the lotus has its blossoms that we sign with the "five" hand shape,

but for Kamala, we use "three."

I found it to be very important for me to become involved with the creation

of Vice President Kamala Harris's sign name because

I'm Black and I'm biracial.

I'm not Indian, but I am Hispanic,

and my child is half Black mixed with Hispanic and Indian.

So I feel a strong connection with Kamala Harris.

It was worth it for me to contribute.

In ASL, people's name signs coexist with their English names, which are used for official purposes and can be communicated by fingerspelling - spelling out the name letter by letter, using hand shapes for the alphabet.

Dr. Supalla writes that name signs can be classified as being arbitrary, descriptive or nontraditional.

Arbitrary names use alphabetic hand shapes, corresponding to the initial of one's first, middle or last name. Several combinations are possible based on the location of the hands in relation to the body, as well as whether there is any movement involved. Dr. Supalla shares in his book that his name sign belongs to this category; it consists of the hand shape associated with the letter "S," moving from one side of the chin to the other.

Descriptive names are normally based on personal characteristics - like personality or appearance - and are conveyed through hand shapes that are known as classifiers, evocative of the attributes.

Nontraditional name signs combine elements from arbitrary and descriptive naming conventions.

Dr. Supalla explains in his book that while originally, name signs were reserved for deaf people, the growing number of hearing people who use ASL and regularly interact with deaf people has meant that many non-deaf individuals today have name signs. Even so, hearing people may never assign a name sign. As Ms. Ngalle-Paryani noted, only a deaf person may do so.

Name signs may also be given to important figures who have no obvious association with deaf culture, said Carol Padden, a professor of communication at University of California, San Diego. George Washington and Abraham Lincoln, for example, have name signs. So do William and Vincent

Dr. Padden said that recently, deaf people have become more engaged in the process of selecting name signs for hearing politicians and well-known individuals. It's a way for people to acknowledge those individuals "and show alliance with them," she said.

In some cases, however, name signs can also be used to make fun of or signal a lack of respect for someone, Dr. Padden added. A name sign for the former President Richard M. for example, is a combination of the letter "N" and the sign for "lie." One name sign used for former President Donald J. Trump is a mocking reference to his hair; his supporters normally fingerspell his name instead.

Frank Dattolo

Monique Holt

Andres Piedrahita

Onudeah Nicolarakis

Ms. Gooden, one of the five women who came together for Ms. Harris's name, said that as the conversation around a possible name sign for the vice president started taking shape on social media, non-Black and non-Indian deaf individuals - mostly men - were leading the dialogue.

For the women involved, it was key that Black and Indian deaf women were part of the process, given Ms. Harris's background.

"Name signs given to political leaders are usually created by white men, but for this one we wanted to not only represent women, but diversity - Black women, Indian women," Ms. Kothari said. For her, social media was a powerful way of making sure the perspectives of minorities were included. (The project was even more significant because Vice President Harris has in the past spoken publicly in support of deaf rights, Ms. Pipalia said.)

[Video description: Isabella begins to sign:] Yes, I've given many deaf students their name signs. Name signs often used initials from English, but now there's more of a desire to have something that is more personal, or something that lights them up. It's important to give a sign name that really considers and values who a person is. It shouldn't be labels that are thoughtlessly mass produced in a factory. This one child, a student of mine, was very mischievous, with a very engaging personality, so I gave them a sign name that looks like "cute." [signs name sign] Another sign name I gave was like this, "zoom," [signs name sign] because this child would like to just kind of explore. [Monique begins to sign:] People tend to have two or three name signs throughout their lifetime, which is similar to hearing people. You know, they grow up and might have a nickname. [Marsellette begins to sign:] The last person I gave a name sign to, it was because someone else gave her a Signed Exact English sign name that just didn't match. And so I created a sign with "dance," because she loved to dance. [signs the name sign three times] And so that's her sign name. Her name starts with the letter "V." "V" looks like a person dancing. [Frank begins to sign:] I was waiting in line to get my Covid vaccination. And then finally it was my turn, and I'm obviously deaf, so I was using an app on my phone to communicate with the pharmacist. And then the pharmacist said, "Well, I know a little sign language." And I said, You know what? Today, I feel so honored that you gave me the vaccination and you know sign language. Her name is Jasmine, she had really beautiful, black, wavy hair so I gave her the sign name: [signs name sign three times] And it was my first vaccination and when I go for my second, hopefully she'll remember her name sign that I gave her: [signs Jasmine's name sign] [Video ends.]

Yes, I've given many deaf students their name signs.

Name signs often used initials from English,

but now there's more of a desire

to have something that is more personal.

Something that honors their family heritage

or something that lights them up.

It's important to give a sign name

that really considers and values who a person is.

It shouldn't be labels that are thoughtlessly mass produced in a factory.

This one child, a student of mine, was very mischievous,

with a very engaging personality,

so I gave them a sign name that looks like "cute."

Another sign name I gave was

like this, "zoom,"

because this child would like to just kind of explore.

go on adventures, "zooming" around quickly.

People tend to have two or three name signs

throughout their lifetime,

which is similar to hearing people.

You know, they grow up and might have a nickname.

The last person I gave a name sign to,

it was because someone gave her a Signed Exact English sign name

that just didn't match.

And so I created a sign with "dance,"

because she loved to dance.

And so that's her sign name.

Her name starts with the letter "V." "V" looks like a person dancing.

I was waiting in line to get my Covid vaccination.

And then finally it was my turn,

and I'm obviously deaf,

so I was using an app on my phone

to communicate with the pharmacist.

And then the pharmacist said, "Well, I know a little sign language."

And I said, You know what?

Today, I feel so honored that you gave me the vaccination

and you know sign language.

Her name is Jasmine,

she had really beautiful, black, wavy hair -

so I gave her the sign name:

And then she said, "Oh, Jasmine," and signed it back.

And we both had a moment together.

And it was my first vaccination and when I go for my second,

I hope to see her again.

And hopefully she'll remember her name sign that I gave her:

"As a group of deaf women that are Black and Asian, we were creating visibility for us but we were also showing that we have agency," Ms. Pipalia added. "It was a historic moment."

Equally important, Ms. Pipalia said, was including the diverse linguistic perspectives of deaf people, which is why the group included women fluent in ASL as well as Black American Sign Language, or BASL, a variation that is specific to people who are Black and deaf in the United States.

Ms. Gooden said that it was important to be collaborative and inclusive, especially in light of some controversy that accompanied the selection of a name sign for President (One sign under consideration resembled a gesture associated with the Ku Klux Klan. Another has been criticized for being similar to a gang sign.) "We want to definitely stay away from that misinterpretation, especially when choosing a name sign of significance," said Ms. Jones, an ASL and BASL teacher.

I don't know his sign name, sorry.

I just fingerspell his name:

Biden.

Ms. Pipalia said that she hopes that by taking the lead in the initiative to pick a name sign for Vice President Harris, the group is setting an example for other deaf women who feel marginalized and inviting them to take charge in their lives. "I hope that this can open the door for others to follow, just like our vice president, Kamala Harris, is doing," she said.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
Shortly after the 2020 presidential election, five women joined forces with a mission: assigning Vice President-elect Kamala Harris a name sign, the equivalent of a person's name in American Sign Language.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
Easily create beautiful interactive video lessons for your students you can integrate right into your LMS. Track students' progress with hassle-free analytics as you flip your classroom!