The divide between deaf and hearing worlds in the media… 

Growing up Deaf, I was warned by hearing friends that “most deaf people have a chip on their shoulder; they don’t like hearing people.”

As I delved further into the Deaf world, I saw another side to this argument. One that said “Hearing people will never understand us. Deaf people are always excluded.”

It’s an interesting thing, witnessing the interplays between the Deaf and hearing worlds. And I’ve noticed the brave pioneers that dare to build bridges between both. But judging by recent debates, I feel the divide between the hearing and deaf world still exists- however subtle it may be.

There are ongoing debates in the media world regarding the casting of deaf roles. Is it okay for hearing actors to play deaf characters? Or should these be for Deaf actors who can use their innate life experience to portray deafness authentically?

In addition to this there have been discussions about hearing professionals taking work that could/should be Deaf-led and how Deaf people are still being made to feel second best when it comes to working alongside hearing professionals.

A director friend of mine, John, contacted me a while ago and we start chatting about some issues that have been on our minds. John is a highly esteemed director, deaf and a sign language user. He works daily alongside hearing professionals, mostly in film and television. He had been upset by attitudes towards him and how he was expected to act ‘continually grateful’ towards his hearing colleagues for what he perceived to be his given right: clear access.

Rather than being valued as someone who is fluent in both sign language and English, John has had to hand over his ASL to English translation work to his hearing co-workers. “It’s because they’re hearing, they’re expected to have a better grasp of the English language than I am.”

In return, John is made to feel overly obliged to express his thanks for any communication support he receives, when this is actually is his right as a sign language user and not “some gift.” Delving into this further, John coined the term ‘hearing fragility’ in response to these conflicting attitudes.

He explained, “I don’t know if ‘hearing fragility’ is an appropriate phrase, since the social justice definition of the word fragility came from the issues of the black community, but it’s a place to start this conversation, at least.”

He continued, “sometimes I come across hearing directors who are not fluent in sign language or knowledgeable about deaf issues, but they’ve directed deaf actors and they feel entitled to say I’ve done all of this for the deaf community, where’s my thanks? Why are deaf people angry with me?”

This defensive response to accusations of oppressiveness is exactly why the term fragility has been used. It implies that the fine line between being supportive of and taking advantage of the deaf community is at risk of being crossed.

For example… The American TV series Switched at Birth won countless awards for featuring a major Deaf storyline, but there was incredible dissent amongst the American Deaf community who felt the portrayal was inaccurate and, at times, disrespectful.

Whilst the creators of this show may have had an ASL consultant, they did not have any Deaf creatives on their team. Perhaps if they hired someone like John who is a native sign language user and lives, breathes, and eats Deaf issues, they could have handled certain topics differently and maybe (just a thought!) they might have cast more real-life ASL users…

This feeling of being misrepresented can happen in a wide range of settings, not just in television. But as John pointed out, “I feel its important to address the influence arts and media has because this is the area that impacts the entire world. Film and TV are some of the greatest mind changers of the world and I think we need to start there – and see how we can change things in terms of mentalities in this area.”

But how do we know when someone genuinely cares about the deaf community and when they’re just… well, using us?

John feels “it comes down to their actual reasons for wanting to work with sign language or feature deaf issues.  For example, if I find a theatre director wants to work with sign language merely for its aesthetics without utilising the language or deaf characters, that strikes me as being an audism mindset right away.” 

With the increase of music videos featuring harshly edited ‘mumble jumble’ sign language, it is understandable that deaf people are insulted by the misuse of their language. Is sign language just a novelty to the mainstream world?

The trouble is most of the time when a production features a Deaf character or deaf issues, the creative team involved don’t have any deaf experience. They aren’t aware of the cultural implications of creating deaf roles and the huge responsibility that holds. We therefore need more Deaf consultants and creatives who are able to drive this process through.

Usually its sign language interpreters or sign language consultants that get hired to offer insight into deafness but they don’t have deaf perspective. As John agreed, “Deaf people should be valued for what they know better than hearing people – being Deaf or using sign language.”

Even at Edinburgh’s fringe festival, a highly acclaimed show was labelled as ‘accessible to sign language users’ but the gestures used were incomprehensible. If the producers on that show worked with a Deaf person or a team of deaf people while devising the work, they might have actually produced an accessible piece. Throwing in a few random signs is never going to work. 

However, a production in Leicester by theatre company Scuffed Shoes had the initiative to invite a group of Deaf people to an open rehearsal as they were using sign language for the first time. Here the deaf attendees had the chance to say whether or not they understood the piece. Their feedback was incredibly insightful and extremely helpful. Even though the deaf group weren’t artists, their knowledge of Deaf matters and sign language meant their views were invaluable when creating accessible work.

I am in no way implying deaf people are better than hearing people, but we are better at portraying and representing deafness because that is part and parcel of who we are.

I don’t believe all deaf people have a chip on their shoulder. It’s not that we dislike hearing people. We are just incredibly frustrated. We want to be represented truthfully and we yearn – most of all – to have our voices heard. 

We don’t want people – who haven’t walked in our Deaf shoes – to speak for us.

One of my bug bears is BSL interpreters or communicators referring to their work as ‘helping’ deaf people. John felt the same mentioning, “the classic stereotype is that hearing people are supposed to be the ones to help deaf people for their entire lives, and that deaf people are viewed as dependents.”

This hints at the whole power play that Deaf professionals are trying to avoid. We don’t want to feel as though we are inferior to hearing colleagues or – worse still – that we have to justify ourselves. We may work differently and have separate skill sets, that is absolutely fine. The trick is to play to our strengths and use access support where necessary. Access is not a luxury to be thankful for, its a basic right. So less of the helping – its facilitating communication, thank you.

Saying that, I do feel that we can and many of us do work alongside hearing professionals on an equal platform. If we are valued and given the chance to express our opinions, you will find we aren’t just a feisty bunch of signers who are impossible to please. We actually speak sense 😉

The deaf world and the hearing world are undoubtedly different. We cant pretend to play Hearing, just as no hearing person can ever Be Deaf. Let us share with you our valuable insights and the unique perspective that being deaf brings. It is our world, after all. Perhaps when the majority of the mainstream population begin to appreciate that, then the rift between us will begin to heal.


Accessibility at Fierce Festival 2017

I am pleased to see that more and more arts organisations seem to be considering accessibility in their programming. Online, there is even a forum called East meets West for arts organisations from the East and West Midlands to share resources and discuss ideas.

And lately, one of the hot topics is ” how can we welcome deaf/hard of hearing people?”

Which is great. Because despite not knowing exactly how to accommodate the varying needs of deaf people, questions are being asked.

I was approached by Pippa & Aaron of the Fierce Festival in Birmingham, and they wanted to discuss how their annual festival could be accessible to D/deaf and hard of hearing people.

Fierce is a ground breaking festival which appeals to both artists and art-lovers, and it has to be said that Fierce is notably one of the UK’s most respected festivals of live art and the leading organisation for live art in the West Midlands. So for them to be considering how deaf-friendly they are is very positive news for the Deaf arts community.

Explaining that all deaf people are different, the Fierce team and I discussed how the use of BSL interpretations, hearing aid loops (when indoors) and even just plain old visual information could be useful. Looking at the programme, which is highly varied in style and excitingly jam packed, I was interested to also note that one of their featured artists, Aaron Williamson, is actually hearing impaired himself.

(Aaron Williamson)

The festival features three performances with BSL interpretation and there is also a BSL signer at one of the ‘meet and greets’ where BSL users are welcome to ask any questions they may have. There are also numerous performances that are non-verbal.

Sure, not everything is immediately accessible, but for a festival with no prior knowledge or experience catering for the deaf community, this Inclusive journey has only just begun.

Fierce, and many other festivals nationwide need us, the deaf community, to feedback to them directly. If you would like to attend the Fierce festival but would like to know more about accessibility or if have any specific requirements, please email

Fierce runs from 16-22nd October and you can read about their accessibility commitment here.

Further details for the BSL interpretations and non-verbal pieces can be found below.


BSL interpretations:

Aaron Williamson – Demonstrating the World, Saturday 21st October, Victoria Square, 12pm -6pm

In Demonstrating the World, Aaron Williamson explores the ‘alien’ or ‘other’ through an absurdly elaborate, live reinterpretation of YouTube ‘How-To’ videos. 

This is a free durational performance, taking place in Victoria Square, Birmingham City Centre. You can pop along 12pm – 6pm and stay for as long or short amount of time as you want. 

There’s a captioned trailer here:

Demi Nandra – I’m Sick and Tired of Being Sick and TiredSunday 22nd October, Birmingham Conservatoire, 3pm – 7pm

What if the depression we endure is not just about biochemical disfunction, but the result of political failure? I’m Sick and Tired of Being Sick and Tired examines historical traumas in the everyday felt sensations of our lives.

This is a free durational performance, taking place in Birmingham Conservatoire. You can pop along 1between 3pm – 7pm and stay for as long or short amount of time as you want. 

Everything Fits in the Room is a non-verbal piece, presented at the Hub on Saturday 21st (4pm) and Sunday 22nd October (4pm). There will be a BSL signer at the venue on Sunday 22nd October to meet and greet signers and answer any questions they might have. 

A free-standing wall, a roaming kitchen island and decaying bodies are part of a disruptive ecology that needs constant adjustment. This is an immersive experimental dance piece form Germany with incredible performer.

Trailer here: (non-verbal)


Non verbal performances:

Lucy Suggate – Pilgrim

This is a solo dance performance exploring the relationship between contemporary club dance culture and pagan and folk cultures.

Last Yearz Interesting Negro / Jamila Johnstone-Small – i ride in colour and soft focus, no longer anywhere

A dance informed by everything and everyone Jamila has ever encountered, seen, heard, felt, been beside that has become part of her, as she tries to identify her own voice. 

Michele Rizzo – Higher

HIGHER is inspired by the experience of clubbing and club dancing. This form of dance, not easily ascribed to any category, takes the cultural role of a social dance and features various techniques, styles and influences and exemplifies what is the ultimate purpose of dancing: self expression.

Non-Verbal trailer: 

Mindfulness for Deaf Teens

“Deafness does not in itself cause emotional/behavioural or cognitive problems. However, children with hearing impairment are at greater risk of developing emotional/behavioural problems.” Nicoletta Gentili & Andrew Holwell

The above statement, taken from an article on mental health in children with severe hearing impairment, is rather concerning. It makes sense then to prioritise positive mental health for deaf children and teenagers.

The reasons why so many young deaf people experience poor mental health are varied, and this topic is too in-depth for me to explore in one article. But seeing as I am preparing a workshop on Mindfulness for deaf teenagers, I thought I could share some of my insights with you.

Mindfulness for teens is growing in popularity. Yet the delivery of it to a deaf audience is rather unheard of. With few resources online, I’ve been delving into my own experience as a deaf teenager and also as a mindfulness practitioner to create a bespoke plan for the deaf teens in Wales that I’ll be meeting later this month.

Mindfulness has been scientifically proven to lower anxiety, ease depression/prevent depressive spells and it also promotes positive self esteem. And judging by how turbulent the teenage years can be, I only wish it could have been offered when I was at school too.

Why? For teenagers, I believe there’s two main ways that Mindfulness can be useful.

Mindfulness helps to calm your body & mind

My teenage years were full of stress. If I wasn’t studying exams, I was rehearsing for a dance show, taking assessments and performing in shows. On top of that I was socially anxious and self conscious and I struggled to feel calm and centred. I was always on the go.

But today’s world is even crazier. When teens return home from school or college, they can’t seem to switch off from social interaction due to Snapchat, Instagram, Facebook,  Twitter and goodness knows what else. There’s a endless demand to keep an online profile.

The mind, then, is constantly stimulated. So it needs help learning how to relax. Teaching teens to unplug and be grounded can be really challenging especially when checking their notifications is an ingrained habit. But being constantly in a ‘virtual world’ can lead to feeling tired-but-wired, irritable and just plain cranky. In a nutshell, its not healthy.

Creating mindful spaces for teenagers gives their body and mind a chance to recharge. They’ll learn to stop living on adrenaline and actually breathe once in a while. Meditation has been said to help with revision and exam performance too – handy for those forthcoming GCSE’s or A Levels!

But what else are our deaf teens dealing with? Whether they learn through lip-reading, sign language or a mixture of both, school life is especially exhausting when you have a hearing loss. Whereas hearing teens can rely on their ears to receive information (and the ears have no muscles!) deaf teenagers are using their eyes – which do have muscles and are plain knackered.

Developing mindfulness in teens means encouraging them to understand when their fatigue is kicking in or when they’re having trouble understanding something and to express their needs appropriately. I never heard the term ‘eye break’ until my University days. I could have done with it a lot sooner.

Mindfulness exercises offers teens the chance to unwind and recharge both physically and mentally.

Mindfulness supports you to feel good about yourself

Teenagers are full of hormones, as we all know. A lot of their time is spent with their peers and so developing attractions to others is at the forefront of their minds too. But if you’re deaf and you have insecurities or hang ups about yourself, what can you do to help?

Mindfulness encourages you to notice when you have a negative or critical thought about yourself. So for example, if you wake up one morning and you notice a spot on your face… rather than break down in an hormonal frenzy of “I am so ugly, nobody will ever like me, everyone has perfect skin but not me!” – you can actually learn to speak to yourself a bit more kindly and develop a best friend relationship with yourself. “Okay so you got a massive zit, but toothpaste and concealer should do the trick!”

The same can be said for any challenges you’re having with your deaf identity. Being aware that its your deaf identity you’re struggling with when you don’t have the words to express yourself can be a great realisation. Getting to know your darkest thoughts or worries and writing them down in a mindful way can enable you to support yourself.

Navigating the teenage years can be a rollercoaster, and even more so if you have deafness or any kind of additional need. This world isn’t a one size fits all, and its important that deaf teens of today realise that. We are all different. You can gain some perspective from your problems and worries when you speak to a mindfulness practitioner and you can also gain professional help in more serious cases such as bullying, self harm or eating disorders.

Deaf teenagers can have the same insecurities or more as their hearing peers. We are ultimately all unique and so we respond to challenges in our own individual ways. But by delivering mindfulness in sign language and with visual cues, we can enable teenagers with deafness to become informed of positive methods that they can use to look after themselves.

To read about mindfulness for teens see

And to be informed of future mindfulness workshops for deaf teens, keep an eye on my blog site





Why I believe sign singing is not the same as Interpreting… 

I had a pretty awesome sign singing job this month. I was booked by Sky 1 to sign 24 songs for a new televised contest called Sing: Ultimate a Capella.

The contest shows a Capella groups from across the country competing to win the chance to record an album at London’s Abbey Road studios and release a single in time for Christmas.

Sky 1’s social team had previously seen sign performers translating songs for Snoop Dogg and Ed Sheeran and wanted to give their viewers the chance to see some of the songs in sign language too.

And that’s where I came in.

Usually when I get asked to work on signed songs, there’s lots of time for rehearsals and normally there’s just one song to study. Unless it’s for a live show then I usuallly have a clear set list and opportunities for sound checks, dress runs and lots of practice.

But seeing as this was a live show, with one episode being recorded per day, this was faaaar from the average sign song job.

The 24 songs were given to me the day before the first episode was set to shoot. None of the songs could be finalised or a set list given because it all depended on which singing group got through to each round. Each episode also had a guest act and several of these artists would not confirm their song or the actual lyrics until it was their sound check an hour before show time. Cue manic studying from me!

A few of the songs I was given weren’t really suited to BSL, and a lot of them were in the form of medleys which meant there were several songs all fused together with differing rhythms and varying sounds.
It was an unpredictable, highly challenging job but an exhilarating one at that.

Not only did I get to sign for the talented groups that were competing but also for the artists JP Cooper, Midge Ure, The Vamps, Gregory Porter and Imelda May. I felt honoured and humbled.

(Mid rehearsal above) 

Despite being deaf,  music is in my blood and I felt privileged to be sharing songs with some incredible voices. They sang, I signed.

The fact that Sky 1 recognised sign song enough to employ me to work for them is immensely encouraging. For too long sign song has been viewed as just a “fun thing to put on you tube” and it hasn’t been valued as the art form it really is.

I was asked during my work if I was a sign language interpreter, with several audience members who came to watch the contest coming over to me and attempting to speak in my ear. It was a surprise for them to discover that I’m actually deaf. And not a sign language interpreter.

I then had an interesting discussion with another artist regarding the difference between an interpreter and a sign singer. You need to be able to hear to be a formally qualified interpreter but to be a sign singer hearing is irrelevant.

If I was hearing, maybe my job at Sky 1 would have been processed differently. Perhaps when we weren’t given a set list, I could have simply listened to the artist when they began singing and translated as I heard the lyrics. It would have been a great back up plan if nothing else.

Instead, I had to memorise the entire songs beforehand (with the little time I had) and scrutinise the artists’ sound checks, using a communicator to work out if any changes had been made. I didn’t have a back up plan and as a deaf sign singer you never do. You have to study the songs and trust yourself, reacting to what you can feel, see and/or hear if anything.

There’s a vulnerability to being a sign singer, especially if you can’t hear what’s around you. And this is what makes it different to Interpreting. In my case, I work with a hearing communicator who acts as my visual cue for the music and keeps me in time.

Being deaf also means I am less stimulated by outside influence, so my relationship with the songs is intimate, personal and born from me. Hence why all sign singers have different approaches to a song.
Whether interpreters regard sign song as an art form or not, it is my belief that the best sign singers are not always those who are most proficient in the BSL language, but are those who have an innate connection to music and lyrics, and a desire to personify these. Whether they can hear or not is irrelevant.

(Above: all of the songs studied and performed)

This is why I regard my work with Sky1 as a sign performing job and not an Interpreting job. The nuances involved in sign singing are incredibly detailed and I suspect are not included in a regular BSL qualification anyhow.

With Interpreting there is usually a right way and a wrong to convey an idea. In sign singing, you have an artistic freedom to express lyrics while respecting the rhythmical placement of the words. It is not pure BSL because it’s being fused with music. But it’s this fusion that I find especially beautiful.

You can watch the sign performances online when the series is aired in mid September. And if you want to see more sign singing by deaf artists, why not make a trip to Derby on September 9th to see Caroline Parker, Colin Thomson and myself for an evening of sign song.  Email for ticket info

And now cue the compulsory fan pic (it’s me and with The Vamps!!! 😃)

Genetic testing for deafness, my view. 

The cause of my deafness has never been something that has bothered me. I have a sister who is deaf, but aside from her everyone in my family is hearing.

Growing up with my sister, neither of us dwelled on the reasons for our deafness, we just took it in our stride. I don’t even recall us having any memorable conversations about our hearing; we just plodded on, going to audiology, speech therapy trips together and taking it all as being part of our “normal” existence.

So when our parents took us to a centre in Nottingham for genetic counselling, this felt like just another mundane test that we had to do.

I remember the specialists looking at my hands, my hair, my eyes. And I remember feeling overwhelmed when I was asked if I wanted a cochlear implant and bursting into tears.

It turns out my parents were told it was down to a faulty gene that they both carried which produced deafness in myself and my sister.

No blood tests were taken, so no exact gene was named as the cause of this but I do remember being told “if you marry a hearing man, you’ll be more likely to have hearing children…”

Fast forward twenty something years and I am married to a deaf man and I have a son who is hearing and a daughter who is deaf. Both my husband and I knew that there would be a chance our children may be deaf, but this was never a huge concern to us. We are who we are and our children will be who they are born to be.

So earlier this week when I was asked by my daughters audiologist if they could have our permission to send her for genetic testing, my immediate response was “why?”

I was told that the test would (probably) tell us the exact cause for her deafness and also work out the chances of her passing deafness onto her children. She’s two years old and we’re thinking of her children already?! 

They then mentioned something about her hearing brother possibly being a carrier if the deafness is a genetic cause, and said how he could be tested in future too.

Now, I completely and utterly understand why parents may want to screen for health conditions / illnesses, but I do not feel that deafness is one of them. I am deaf, so my views on having a deaf child may be entirely different to a hearing parent who is faced with something completely new and unfamiliar.

But deafness is my familiar. And for all those involved in my immediate family, it’s our familiar too. So I do not see any real reason or benefit for finding out the medical reason for my daughters deafness. Her deafness will still remain unchanged. And whether she has deaf or hearing children, they will be accepted.

Browsing literature online, I noticed that I’m not alone in these feelings. The American Journal of Human Genetics surveyed parental attitudes towards genetic testing for paediatric deafness and stated,

“Deaf adults had a predominately negative attitude towards genetic testing for deafness, with the majority stating that such tests would do more harm than good.”

It reasoned that as the majority of deaf children were born to hearing parents, it was understandable that these parents were searching for a reason for this unexpected event. Just like my parents were.

That is not to say that deaf parents don’t participate in genetic testing (they do!) but more often than not the reasons for doing so stem more from curiosity than anything else.

One of my concerns about genetic testing was how the results would be received by hearing parents.  Some of the parents surveyed stated that the results of the genetic testing would impact their decision to have further children, with adoption being an option rather than

 “risk having a child who is deaf.”

This concern was echoed in the article by reports from the deaf community expressing their fear that an increase in genetic testing would lead to a decrease in the number of  congenitally deaf children.

Action on Hearing Loss actually completed a genetics testing project in 2012 with the results being published in the American Journal of Medical Genetics. They stated that;

“The project will help to determine the deafness genes that are the most common cause of deafness in Europeans. This knowledge is currently lacking and will also aid the development of treatments in future.”

A new idea I also came across was how most (62%) of the parents surveyed wanted prenatal screening for deafness to be offered. This would (apparently) enable an expectant parent to be better prepared by learning sign language or researching hearing loss.
But wouldn’t a prenatal screening also carry a risk of affected pregnancies being terminated?

It’s a deep and complicated topic and the concept of eugenics, of manipulating a “perfect” human race is one that makes me feel highly uncomfortable.

As a culturally Deaf person, I don’t wish to make my daughter or any deaf child feel that they have less of a right to be here than a hearing child. I believe very strongly in the social model of deafness as opposed to the medical model which tells me I’m broken and need fixing.

Even the NHS website states that it offers genetic counselling to couples where both individuals have a “hearing impairment.” This is in order to determine whether they will have a “hearing impaired child.” Are we going back to the time where deaf people were discouraged to marry for fear of continuing a deaf race?

I suppose I hadn’t realised how deeply ingrained my Deaf identity was until I came across this subject. And it’s clear that there are mixed views about the testing being carried out.

But this is my view. And I do not want my daughter being poked and prodded at the age of 2 for a cause that I’m not sure I even approve of.

Genetic testing for deafness; for who’s benefit?

You can read the quoted article here:

My first year as a ‘deaf playground Mum’

When my son started nursery last September I dreaded the compulsory ‘standing in the playground with other parents.’ Not because I dislike people, of course. It was the fact that I’d be expected to chat to / get to know the parents of my sons classmates for the remainder of the school year. 

Talk about being out of my comfort zone. To begin with I remember feeling self conscious, quiet and not really myself. 
To most parents making small talk and general chatter in the playground is fun, laidback and an enjoyable rite of passage. It’s a chance to speak to another adult for a fraction of your day and find some solace in the stresses of parenthood. 

But for me, it’s exhausting. Having to lipread, notice what’s happening around me AND keep track of a 2 year old and 4 year old leaves me feeling hyper vigilant and on edge. 

But verrrrry gradually I got the hang of it. As time went on I came out of my shell and began to feel comfortable with being surrounded by non-signers on a daily basis. 

I’ve done a lot in a school year. I’ve learnt most of my sons school friends names, conversed with several parents, attended kids’ birthday parties and struck up friendships with a few ladies too. Not bad for the only deaf mum in the playground…

Looking back, though, there was a pivotal moment that changed things for sure. It was the first time the other parents saw me with a sign language interpreter. 

We (the parents) were invited to a meeting about phonics and the school had booked an interpreter so I’d be able to participate in the talk. The look on the parents faces when I walked into the room, sat opposite the interpreter and began signing, was priceless. 

Oh, she’s deaaaaaaaf. I could almost feel the pennies dropping. 

I reckon some people had their suspicions beforehand, a few already knew (but hadn’t seen me sign) but most were clueless. 

There were a few friendly smiles, some stares and a couple of flummoxed faces. The following day, one of the Dads (who had previously never spoken to me) came up and started signing, “I heard you’re deaf. My uncle is deaf so I learnt to sign for him.”

Woweee. I thought. Finally I can sign to somebody!!! 

Admittedly, there were a couple of parents who began to avoid me, not wishing to make eye contact and generally acting frostily around me. No more hello’s from them, I noticed. 

And then on the opposite scale were the ones who overcompensated, rubbing my arm before speaking to me and slowing down their speech to aaaan extreeeemely diffficcculllt speeeeed toooo liiiipreeeeead. Bless ’em. 

But generally speaking, once it was ‘out’ that I was deaf AND a signer, it felt a whole lot easier to be myself. I seemed to attract the right people to talk to, some who knew sign, some who didn’t; but overall the good eggs who were happy to get to know somebody who was a bit different.

You know, making new friends as an adult is hard. And I find it even harder being deaf. I know there’s no rule that says you have to be friends with the other parents at school but it isn’t a nice feeling to be standing on your lonesome while others chat around you. 

And as my son begins a new school this September I face the prospect of starting all over again. Meeting new people, explaining I’m deaf, asking their names – several times – and still getting it wrong. 

I found out last week I’d been calling a girl ‘Millie’ for the whole school year when her actual name is Amelia. I’d called another Mum Sara instead of Sandra and I’m still not sure what my sons teaching assistant is called… (Mrs Dutsvord, Mrs Tutsford, Mrs Tuxford?!) so I’ll have to do my research before writing the end of year thank you cards… 😉

I’ve had whistling hearing aids, moments of completely misunderstanding people, and I’ve also had days where I’ve buried my head in my phone because I was too tired for strained interactions. 

But it hasn’t been all bad. I’ve met some really lovely people who I wouldn’t have known otherwise and my confidence has definitely grown. 

Because I’m so used to being around deaf people it’s been extremely insightful and such a learning curve to find myself interacting with hearing folk every day. 

I’ve realised that despite not always feeling 100% comfortable, I can do it. I can hold conversations with others (however brief or stilted,) I can say or wave hello and more importantly I can just be who I am, lip reading stumbles and all. I don’t wanna be friends with the prejudiced bad eggs anyway. 

And that’s the attitude I’m going to need in September when I begin this journey all over again. 

Wish me luck! 

Why being resilient is so important if you’re deaf…  

I do believe that having a dis-ability of any kind means that you’re either born with or develop a set of innate skills to get you through life’s inevitable challenges. 

I’ve always said a sense of humour seems to go hand in hand with deafness. That and a whooooole lot of patience. 

But the quality that I’m thinking of that’s the most relevant here is resilience. The actual definition of it is 

“The capacity to recover quickly from difficulties; toughness.” 

Becoming aware of my own resilience is not something that I was spoken to about as a child. But the notion of having to bounce back from let downs and overcome problems became a familiar one from a young age. 

Getting through the insecurity of deafness when with hearing peers, dealing with bullies, struggling with communication and social interactions; these are all common scenarios for deaf children. 

But like they say, what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger right? 

Ha. I don’t feel strong at the moment. I’ve had a stressful week and I feel far from resilient right now. All I’ve been hearing/seeing is the word NO. 

“No, your daughter can’t have support from a teacher of the deaf; no, we can’t repair your hearing aid as you need to be reassessed and NO we will not renew your access to work support.”

Give me a break. 

I know that dealing with difficulties means breaking problems down, prioritising and making a plan of action. But when you’re being told no so many times and there’s no room for negotiation, there’s only so much positivity you can muster. 

Which is why I’ve been biding my time, gathering my energy and becoming objective about the situations I’m in. Resilience isn’t all about go go go and do do do, sometimes it’s pausing and breathing so that you feel strong enough to try again. 

I’m trying again with Access to Work but I’m in limbo land at the moment. I’ve been told my renewal for support has been rejected so I’ve sent it to be reconsidered and I’m awaiting a decision on that. If it’s another no, I need to go higher and speak to my local MP perhaps about how I can be supported if access to work are not willing to help.

It’s ironic that given how hard it is for deaf people to find good work, you’d expect support to be put on place immediately without a hitch. But nope. There’s a whole bunch of rules and points and a criteria that the advisors have to meet. 

And fortunately after pestering (what feels like) a hundred people, I’ve finally secured a Teacher of the Deaf & specialist support for my daughter. Even when so called professionals told me that she “didn’t meet the criteria for support.” This will be the first battle of many, I’m sure, but I’ll be ready. 

I am tired of fighting but I refuse to give up. Activists of any type are bound to experience despair and anger but they don’t lose sight of what they’re trying to achieve. Even if it means taking a few days off from it all to regain some perspective.

That type of wise resilience; of knowing when to pause and when to pounce, is something I really hope I can pass onto my children. Because with all the challenges, closed doors and NO’s in this world, I think they’re going to need it.  

The Boat and the Blue by Sinfonia Viva: an accessible show for the family 

I was recently invited along to an accessible showing of a performance called The Boat and the Blue, which with its live music by Sinfonia Viva orchestra has won an award for the ‘Best Family Event’ at the Family Arts Festival in 2016. 

It’s a storytelling adventure with live music, games and visuals and by attending the show you also get a CD and the book of the story to take home.

Being a mum to two children under four, I was keen to see how having a BSL interpreter would ensure deaf children could participate and enjoy the show as much as their hearing peers.  

The interpreter, Sarah Gatford, was stood on the far left of the stage, next to the screen where the live visual images by artist Eleanor Meredith appeared throughout the tale. This placement was ideal to see both the BSL translation and the live drawings on the screen. 

Across the stage were the musicians with their flute, cello, violin and bass drum. The storyteller and writer, Jack Ross, was centre stage. He spoke calmly and clearly to the audience  and was especially clear for me to lipread. 

The production told the tale of a little girl who takes a journey to the deep blue sea, meeting frogs, ducks and whales. Both Jack – the narrator – and Sarah – the interpreter – used the same actions for the animals the story introduces. 

All of the songs had actions too! I found myself ribbet-ing like a frog, climbing up sails of a boat, heaving a rope and pulling silly faces. The movements were all enhanced by melodic tunes and great rhymes. 

The sound for the show was amplified by speakers that faced out to the audience, and with it being such an intimate setting the music was clear for me both audibly and physically. I was interested to know that Sinfonia Viva are actually the East Midlands only professional orchestra and have even been nominated for a Grammy. 

The translation of the musical score was outstanding, with the rhythm of each song personified perfectly by the interpreter. There were no delays, no stumbles, it was flawlessly in sync with the singer and dynamic to watch. 

At one point the interpreter had to translate the overlapping strings of a violin, depicting the tale of a sad swan. Her body language, expression and soft fluid movements captured this beautifully, even demonstrating through sign the high tones that I cannot hear. 

Noticing how mesmerised the children in the audience were and how delighted the grown ups looked (myself included) I cannot rate this show & its accessibility high enough. 

I usually find shows are either mainstream with an interpreter that doesn’t quite gel or very deaf-centred but without the sound quality for hearing people to enjoy it. But with The Boat and the Blue the interpreter became an another visual element that enhanced the whole show, and fitted in seamlessly. 

Hearing audience members also commented on how much they enjoyed the BSL translation, and I noticed the children’s gazes fixed intently on the signing too. 

When the production ended I found myself humming tunes, along with their action signs and wishing there were more shows like this I could take my children to. 

I spoke to the head of the orchestra and found that although they don’t have any other BSL shows planned, if there were any I wanted to attend I could simply email them and they’d find an interpreter for me. 

I never knew that was an option! I assumed that accessible shows only appeared on the access page of theatre brochures. But it seems that some programmers are willing to respond to requests. It’s possibly not the same for all theatres but if in doubt, ask anyway. 

To find a truly accessible family show is a rarity and to see one that is of the quality of The Boat and the Blue is even more special. 

Check out and see what else they’re up to. And if there’s anything else you like the look of, find out if they can provide access too. 

You never know till you ask. 

Sencity London 2017: a reflection 

It was such a surreal moment.

The heat of the lights, the wires threatening to tangle my feet, the gaze from the singer as he altered his microphone so I could see his lips. As my smile met his I began to sign as he sang. 

There’s no denying, it was the hardest gig I’ve ever done. And I’ve performed at a lot of venues; theatres, concert halls, outdoor festivals, community centres… But this was the first time I’d worked with a live band. And a real life, spontaneous-moving-in-the-moment singer. 

I’m used to pre recorded music, shooting videos and working solo on stage. But this was waaaay out of my comfort zone. So when Sencity asked if I’d be a ‘sign dancer’ for Balkan style band Gypsy Hill, I was excited but terrified too. 

Sencity is a multi sensory music gig, set up in 2003 originally for the deaf community but now prides itself on being a mainstream event that incorporates sensory experiences such as an aroma disc jockey, illuminated floors and sign dancers such as moi. 

The event itself was part of the Open Senses festival, attracting both a hearing and deaf audience with two bands including Gypsy Hill playing on the night. (The other was New Town Kings.) 

Gypsy Hill mostly play songs without lyrics but they had three pieces in their hour long set that had words. My task was to translate these into sign language / movement. 

The songs themselves were beautiful but each one very different in style, rhythm and sound. I couldn’t hear the music at home at all so I asked my friend/communicator to film herself lip syncing and beating the pace of the whole song. I used this to rehearse with.

Visually the rhythms came to life and I could imagine how the songs may sound. Lyric wise, there were a lot of puns, plays on words and lengthy English grammar that meant I had to write out the whole songs again in a visual/BSL structure which would hopefully make more sense to a live audience. 

(My beloved music stand and lyrics below)

Rehearsing at home was one thing, the sound check was another. I met the band without an interpreter (eek!) and discovered they had never worked with a signer before so this was a new experience for both of us. However, they were warm and approachable and our shared passion for music made me feel connected despite me using my hands instead of my voice. 

Sound checks are notoriously hurried when there’s more than one band and time is pressing. So I was able to go just through two songs and get a sense for how they felt on stage. With speakers and live instruments beside me I felt bombarded with vibrations and noise; but on the slowest songs I could pick out the lulling voice of the singer which I loved the most. 

The band were so enthralled to have a signer on stage that they asked me if I could sign another song which I was unprepared for. “It’s only three verses” they said 😊

Trying not to panic as there was only 30 minutes till showtime (how could I possibly squeeze another song in my head?!) the stage manager suggested I have the lyrics on stage as a back up and given how gorgeously thought-provoking the lyrics were, I agreed. 

(Rehearsing Everybody Knows)

There was an interpreter present for the sound check but for everything else on the night I was going in alone. It was just me and the band. The lead singer was aware of how I would be following his lips and he was considerate to remember this throughout his performance. 

Still, it was scary. It felt like free falling through a song, I was never sure where the singer may ad lib, slow down or add in extra words (they always do – they’re in the moment!)

That’s the risk when anything is live –  the unpredictability. And as a deaf performer I usually rehearse music to the death to ensure I’ve absorbed the song and it’s intricacies.  

Here, I was vulnerable. But gosh, was it thrilling. 

Performing Everybody Knows)

Not knowing when to enter and exit the stage for my songs, The DJ of the band DJ Kobayashi was my cue. He knew I wouldn’t hear him announcing me so each time he would turn to where I was in the wings and let me know when my spot was coming up. For all of my songs apart from the newest one I was centre stage, signing whilst simultaneously trying not to knock the guitarist or get hit by the jumping trombonist. 

The audience were able to feel the music too given the unique vibrating dancefloor. It pounded out the rhythms like you wouldn’t believe. Excellent fun but not so much if you’re holding a drink… 

Overall, it was a great experience and has given me a lot of encouragement when it comes to pursuing more work with live musicians and at mainstream events. Sure, I can’t hear music. But I can darn well feel it and I adore expressing it. 

So let’s have more sign performers onstage and normalise the experience of seeing a signer with a band. Hearing, deaf – it doesn’t matter. We are all artists after all, free falling in one way or another 😉

Why mocking sign language is never acceptable…

I have a good sense of humour, I can assure you. My friends will all tell you how I like a laugh – like most people. But some jokes cross boundaries.  And for me, mocking sign language is one of them.

So when Twitter fans complained to deaf model & TV star Nyle DiMarco that he needed to “learn to take a joke” when he spoke out about an actor making fun of sign language on live TV, I couldn’t have felt more enraged. 

Actor Jamie Foxx had appeared on Fallon Tonight and was shown signing gibberish in an attempt to impersonate either an interpreter or a deaf person.

This appearance sparked a shocked response from Nyle DiMarco who is a deaf sign language user and winner of America’s Next Top Model and Dancing With the Stars. He stated online;

Nyle’s message has received enormous support from the deaf community but he has also been subject to complaints of being “overly sensitive.”

I believe Nyle’s response was completely reasonable. A language that has been oppressed, argued against and denied for so many years and is hardly ever seen authentically on television does not deserve to belittled. 

It reminded me of the Nelson Mandela funeral “fake interpreter” – that same sense of having our language torn apart and insulted. 

Of course Jamie Foxx and Jimmy Fallon wouldn’t understand. They probably didn’t grow up being told not to sign because it’s “embarassing.” They didn’t get kids telling them they spoke “weird.” They didn’t have to fight for a language they feel most comfortable using.

They probably didn’t have to put up with school peers jeering at them in fake sign language. 

They didn’t perform (like I did the following night) to a live audience and have three people in the crowd laughing and pretending to sign before they were told to leave. 

These kind of people don’t know the struggle for sign language access. To ‘them’, signing just looks funny. Our language is amusing. 

Did I miss the joke? 

Because to me, to belittle another language is a sneaky way of playing the superior card. It’s almost like saying “you’re not normal, you’re the minority and so it’s okay to make fun of you.” And then all the sheep will think that’s okay and laugh along. 

But it’s not okay. 

A language that has been a sensitive topic of controversy for years and underrepresented in the media deserves more respect. 

Get some real deaf stars on your show, Jimmy Fallon. And do us a favour, Jamie Foxx, learn some proper ASL and use that on live TV next time. 

You can read more about the incident here: