Deaf Embassy dream

This is the vision for an ‘embassy’ to the world’s deaf community being planned by a Preston charity reports the Lancashire Evening Post (24/04/12).

Deafway is proposing to build the centre at its base on Brockholes Brow in Fishwick which it believes will attract members of the deaf community from across the world.

It will house art galleries and a theatre to show the work of deaf people and provide facilities for people attending courses at the centre. Chief executive David Hynes said the striking design of the proposed building was “a statement of intent” by the charity.

He said: “If you look at any other group in the world which has its own language and its own culture, it has a country it is based in and within other countries there are embassies to promote that culture and language.

“The deaf community globally has as rich a culture and language as any other community and yet it has nowhere to positively promote that, it needs an embassy as a place to do that. What we are planning here is a building which deaf people from across the world will come to and be proud of to celebrate their culture.”

Plans, drawn up by Fulwood-based architects MCK Associates, will be submitted as a formal planning application to Preston Council in the coming weeks.

The charity has appointed Philippa Merricks as an ‘animateur’ for the project to develop projects to promote deaf culture from the centre. It is hosting a number of events at the centre.

Deafway will hold a public exhibition at Brockholes Brow between 1pm and 6pm next Thursday.

Mayfesto: Moving loud and clear

THE deaf community has an eloquent spokesman at this year’s political theatre festival, Mayfesto, writes Mark Fisher for the Scotsman (01/05/12).

Ramesh Meyyappan is telling me about his early childhood in a village near Chennai in southern India. He can’t tell me the name because it is a very long word. He gestures with his hand to indicate how long. For most people, length would not be an obstacle, but Meyyappan has never heard the word spoken out loud and cannot spell it. He is deaf and so the place he lived until the age of five looks to him like little more than a long series of letters.

Today, he’s talking to me through an interpreter, but it’s not the only way he communicates. The actor, now based in Glasgow, is a vibrant presence on stage and equally animated off. He talks not only with sign language but with a vivid sequence of facial expressions, as if he’s not just telling his stories but acting them out.

It’s consistent with the imagistic storytelling he brings to Snails and Ketchup, a one-man show based on Italo Calvino’s The Baron in the Trees, revived for Mayfesto at Glasgow’s Tron Theatre. He describes it as neither mime nor dance, but as visual storytelling for everyone. “In my work, it’s not deaf or hearing, it’s just an audience that enjoys theatre. It’s about a visual vocabulary not a sign-language vocabulary.”

I ask if it’s a cliché to say people who are deprived of one sense often compensate by developing one of their remaining senses. In his own case, he has no way of knowing the reason, but he certainly has a heightened awareness of sight.

“I have always thought visually,” he says. “I think visually and I want to communicate visually. Some folk say I’ve got a good eye for detail. I can feel little bits of vibrations and sense a bit of what’s behind, but I’ve got to work harder with my eyes to see everything, and I work on what I can see.”

Given the choice, Meyyappan would rather be talking about art than disability. He doesn’t want to be defined by his deafness or pigeonholed into a special performance category. All the same, Snails and Ketchup has been programmed as part of Mayfesto, a festival of political theatre and he admits there’s a political dimension to what he does. It’s not in the story in itself – it’s about a boy who escapes his dysfunctional family by taking to the trees – but in the very fact of having a deaf performer on stage.

“I don’t necessarily see Snails and Ketchup as being political, but I know all artists have a sense of having a voice and so have something political to say.

“I’m interested in telling a personal story, something that’s accessible and something where there’s an audience of both deaf and hearing, because that doesn’t always happen. Deaf and hearing are two insular worlds and there are not often times for them to merge. From my point of view, I’m not saying anything political, but the work is involved in bringing communities together.”

Perhaps the greatest political message is embodied by Meyyappan himself, living proof of the power of positive thinking. Any actor needs extra reserves of confidence to survive in such a competitive business, but doing that while tackling the prejudice of the hearing world is doubly impressive.

Taking inspiration from his forward-thinking mother, who moved her three children (two of them deaf) to Singapore for better opportunities, Meyyappan exudes optimism. “I’ve got to be very positive,” he says. “There have been lots of obstacles in the way – personal life, work life – but if you become negative, you don’t get anywhere.”

Having no artistic background, his family assumed he would get a job in something like IT, but as a teenager, he was inspired by Hi! Theatre, a company dedicated to deaf performers, and he resolved to become an actor. After gaining experience on the stage in Singapore, both with Hi! and a hearing theatre company, he made his directorial debut with a visual version of Macbeth. Wanting a qualification, he left Singapore in 2000 to study for a degree in performing arts at the University of Liverpool, eventually moving to Glasgow with his Scottish wife.

He’s too modest to call himself a pioneer, but that’s how Meyyappan is regarded by deaf artists internationally. True to form, once he realised theatre for the deaf was less developed in Scotland than elsewhere in Europe, he set about trying to change things.

Encouraged by organisations such as Tramway, the National Theatre of Scotland and the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland, he is increasingly confident about the future.

“The Scottish deaf community are fairly insular and don’t quite grasp what’s going on in the arts within the international deaf community. They don’t have that knowledge, so they’re a little bit behind. I’m surprised, because the international deaf theatre community is very wide – they work with a lot of hearing companies and with deaf artists, and they look for ways to make it possible.

“Here in Scotland, there are great opportunities for crossover audiences because of the physical theatre stuff that’s going on and the openness of the theatre community.

“There’s a lot of excitement here in terms of what can be possible on stage. The deaf community haven’t engaged with that yet, but the hearing community in Scotland are definitely interested in being open and working with deaf and disabled artists, doing quality work that’s not patronising.”

• Snails and Ketchup is at the Tron Theatre, Glasgow, 1-2 May. Mayfesto runs until 19 May.

Deaf rapper gives flash mob performance

A Finnish deaf rapper has performed a flash mob performance in New York reports the BBC News (18/04/12).

Singmark, who was the first rapper to sign a record deal with Warner Music, uses hip-hop artist Brandon's vocals in his songs.

The 34-year-old musician told the New York crowd that he wasn't taken seriously when he first showed an interest in music.

Watch the video

Tale of father-daughter love that survives tough times

The young girl clings to her deaf mother's hip in a crowded bowling alley, watching as a deaf man with hooks for hands talks using sign language, scraping the curved metal claws together as if demonstrating cooking knives writes Elaine Lies for Reuters (05/03/12).

The image opens "Burn Down the Ground," a memoir by debut U.S. author Kambri Crews about growing up as the hearing child of two deaf parents, a life that she credits with giving her both an aptitude and love of storytelling that have helped make her the successful comedian she is today.

"The Deaf community is very much a story-telling community. It's hard to translate into print how a deaf person telling a story is, but it's watching poetry in motion. Because you're fully engaged," she said in a telephone interview.

"When my husband first started dating me, he thought 'she can't be this into me,' but it's because I'm from a Deaf community where you maintain eye contact and you turn your body into the storytelling. There's a lot of hugging and touching and pushing and pulling, it's a very physical community."

For Kambri, now 40, it was a nurturing community as well, with the sign language that she almost considers her native tongue helping her learn to express herself at an unusually early age, while helping her parents cope with the hearing world taught her independence and self-reliance.

But her family was at times so short on funds that they were once forced to live in a shed on their rural Texas property, and her charismatic father was prone to rages that prompted him to attack her mother when Kambri was a teen and eventually landed him in prison for 20 years after he stabbed his girlfriend.

Much of the book is an exploration of Kambri's complicated relationship with him, how the adoration of her early years was transformed to anger and fear, and finally a saddened, but accepting, love.

His charm is on display early on, where he grins and holds court amid deaf friends, telling an obscene joke in sign language before introducing Kambri proudly to the group and giving her five dollars for a treat.

But the isolation of his deafness in an era where he was simply dropped off at a school for the deaf without explanation by his hearing family, and the texting and email of today didn't exist, led to frustration that fed rages and violence.

"The confusion, the feeling of abandonment. The longing to be like the rest of his family, that definitely created some issues," Crews said.

"But if he had been born in this decade, besides text messaging -- oh my goodness, the technology... The technology that exists today would serve him very well."

After a terrifying attempt on her mother's life, the teenage Kambri distances herself from her father and, through a brief, early marriage and job with a lawyer, eventually builds a life as owner of a production company and a comedian, developing a life-long love of theater and performance.

But gradually, through the correspondence forced on them by his deafness, the two rebuild a relationship eventually even strong enough to survive his imprisonment, which goes on today.

"I'd get these letters from my dad, and I realized that we're extraordinarily alike. We're both storytellers, we like being the center of attention, on stage," she said. "It made me understand him a lot more."

Asked if she now feels she lost anything by growing up with deaf parents, she says she didn't -- at least, not directly.

"I would love for my dad to be able to hear music," she said. "I wish he could hear me talk and tell stories and see how much like him I am in some ways. And be able to share music with him, because he's such an avid Elvis Presley fan, and he's never heard a single note."

Deaf debate: Caught between two worlds

The story of deaf teenagers who chose not to have implants offering the "sensation of sound" generated a huge response report the BBC News (17/02/12).

Our previous feature focused on two young deaf women, Meghan and Sara, divided over the use of implants.

Readers touched by the issue share their perspectives:

I became profoundly deaf at the age of seven, in 1952. I wore a hearing aid through much of my life, but sounds and voices were still inaudible. My means of communication was lip reading. I never heard my children's voices.

I had a cochlear implant in 1996, I had no fear at all. My thoughts were just to hear again.

After the implant I can now hear my grandchildren. Isn't science great?

Suzanne Parkinson, Beverley, East Yorkshire

I am deafblind. While I was losing my hearing, I had been forced to wear hearing aids and various hearing devices. Even now, I have to wear a hearing device to hear.

It's nothing like hearing, because all it does is amplify how bad my ears process sound. Syllables sound too blurry to me. I would benefit from deafblind sign language, which is done at chest level so the deafblind can feel it so they can see it with their hands. But I have not found anyone that will teach it to me. They would rather force hearing devices on me.

I consider myself fine and normal as a deafblind person.

Why should I feel like an inconvenience to others?

Mina, Kelowna, Canada

I was not born deaf but became deafened after illness at nine to 10 years old. I have never been accepting of my hearing loss and I had a cochlear implant fitted at 15.

It's the best decision I was ever given the privilege to make. It totally transformed my life and helped me cope greatly with the sudden loss of hearing.

It's not for everyone but those who have it truly appreciate and value the sensation of sounds they now have access to. I wish Meghan all the very best with her rehabilitation and studies.

Dee, London

I became deaf 15 years ago and it was extremely traumatic for me. My identity as a hearing person was gone, and initially I just couldn't cope.

After 50 years of hearing culture, I found myself introduced into deaf culture. I spent two years learning to sign and lip-read and met some fantastic deaf people. I learned from them that each individual has to decide where they wish to be.

In the same way that they chose to stay with deaf culture, I chose to stay with hearing culture and now have a vibrant soundbridge implant that, although not a cochlear implant, works by activating the bones in the middle ear. I now enjoy around 90% of normal hearing.

By being "in the middle", I learned so many coping strategies from profoundly deaf people and owe them many thanks. A very personal choice that I would not have understood had I not met and discussed the issue with deaf people.

Ken Wardropper, Ilkley

I envy those who are strongly connected to the deaf community. With hearing parents and friends I never was able to explore that side of myself until university. I get hearing aid upgrades every now and then. It is still such a shock when you find a new sound. However, it makes me sad that I never heard it before.

By being an inbetweener of the deaf and hearing communities, I find myself working very hard to hear. I lip read and concentrate to keep up with hearing people. When I finally take the aids out it is very liberating that I can switch off, enjoy the silence and be deaf.

Flo, Maidstone

Meghan highlights the challenges of being deaf in her first month at university

I cannot help wondering what Sara is going to do with her life. The "Deaf World" she refers to presumably means people who use British Sign Language and is a small one.

Estimates vary but the figure normally quoted is 50,000 in the UK. It's not in any sense a world. How will Sara cope outside her family circle where she will meet very few other deaf people?

It's misleading, too, to subsume all people with hearing loss under one heading "deaf". It makes more sense to divide them into three groups - the hard of hearing who are very numerous and who get a lot of benefit from hearing aids; those who become profoundly deaf as adults, like myself; the group Sara belongs to, those deaf from birth.

These three groups have different needs but all have a good chance of participating in society as a whole helped by some marvellous technology like cochlear implants, some commonplace technology like TV subtitles, email, SMS texts and textphones and greater awareness of the nature of deafness in the general public.

John Newton, Preston, Lancs

If my daughter is anything like the intelligent, sassy, confident, happy teenagers in the documentary, then I will be one happy mum”End Quote Jenny Cassie

I could relate to many of the comments made in the programme. I belong to neither the deaf or hearing community as I have impaired hearing, I hate my hearing aids because I am just not used to hearing all these sounds. I exist in a sort of no-man's-land, belonging nowhere.

Brian Palmer, Birmingham, UK

I have three-year-old twins, born prematurely and consequently one daughter has a hearing loss. As a parent, you are so worried about what the future holds for your child yet this programme was so positive that I'm sure it gave hope to lots of parents in my situation. Good to see that this "invisible" disability is being discussed.

I finished the programme thinking that if my daughter is anything like the intelligent, sassy, confident, happy teenagers in the documentary, then I will be one happy mum!

Jenny Cassie, Ingatestone, UK


Cochlear implants

• A surgically implanted electronic device that can improve hearing by stimulating the auditory nerve
• Although an implant cannot restore hearing to normal it does give the sensation of sounds.
• Not suitable for all deaf people and those considering the surgery have to undertake in-depth hearing, speech and language, educational and psychological assessments
• About 500 adults, aged between 15 and 59, receive cochlear implants in the UK each year

National Awards' Search For Regional Stars In Deaf Communications

The hunt for the UK's finest deaf communicators has begun as leading awarding body Signature launches its fourth annual awards today reports Signature (10/02/12).

Regional nominations for the 2012 Signature Annual Awards, which celebrates those who are making a positive contribution to the lives of the deaf community, opened today (Wednesday 8 February 2012).

Forming part of Signature's celebrations to mark its 30th anniversary the 2012 Signature Annual Awards, which will be held later this year, is searching for the brightest stars in deaf communications.

Signature is looking to uncover the inspirational stories behind the UK's teachers and learners who are helping to break down the barriers to communication that deaf and deafblind people regularly face.

Alongside honouring the talents of the country's regional Teacher of the Year and Learner of the Year, Signature is also looking for the individuals and organisations worthy of its national awards including Community Spirit, Communication Professional of the Year and the prestigious Joseph Maitland Robinson Award for Outstanding Contribution.

Chief Executive of Signature, the leading provider of accredited sign language qualifications, Jim Edwards, said: "Since the launch of the Signature Annual Awards in 2009 we have uncovered so many truly inspirational individuals and organisations that have shown a real passion for creating a society in which deaf and deafblind people have full access.

"Given the fantastic work that has been carried out across England, Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland over the past 12 months in improving deaf awareness I am certain there is still a wealth of talent waiting to be discovered.

"The 2012 awards will be an extra special event for Signature as we celebrate our 30th year, so as well as honouring the outstanding work of today we will also be commemorating the progress of deaf communications over the past three decades."

In 2011 the Signature Annual Awards celebrated the exceptional achievements of 22 regional and eight national winners. Clark Denmark, who is leading the way in British Sign Language teaching and research, was honoured with the Joseph Maitland Robinson Award for Outstanding Contribution for his tireless dedication to deaf studies. Meanwhile Tara-Eve Forkin was named Young Learner of the Year after successfully completing her BSL Level 1, Level 2 and Level 3 qualifications in just two years.

Nominations for the regional Teacher of the Year and Learner of the Year awards can be submitted at www.signature.org.uk/awards until Wednesday, 2nd May 2012.

Shortlisted nominees will be announced on 16th May 2012, with the regional winners being unveiled on 13th June. Each regional winner will then progress to the national final later this year when the UK's Teacher of the Year and Learner of the Year will be chosen.

Living outside the hearing world

For several years cochlear implants have offered some deaf people the chance to have a "sensation of sound". So why would some deaf teenagers choose not to have the implant even if they had the option? asks Lucy Wallis for BBC News (07/02/12).

The issue of cochlear implants and efforts to "cure" deafness is a very sensitive subject among the 19,600 deaf teenagers in the UK.

Indeed, many young deaf people are proud of deaf culture.

"I never hear anything, I'm fully deaf. With hearing aids all I could hear was beeps and I thought what's that? So I took them off. I never use them. What's the point?" says 19-year-old Sara Kendall.

Sara and her boyfriend Asher Woodman-Worrell live with Sara's mother and brother in Nottingham. Everyone in the family is profoundly deaf. As Sara and Asher cannot hear or speak, they live in a totally silent world.

"I'm very strongly in the deaf world," says Sara. "I'm passionate about it. I can't imagine myself outside of that world. No thanks. I'm happy where I am, because my parents brought me up deaf."

Even though it might improve her hearing, no one in Sara's family has ever considered being fitted with a cochlear implant - a surgically implanted electronic device that can improve hearing by stimulating the auditory nerve. Although an implant cannot restore hearing to normal it does give the sensation of sounds.

In the operation, a surgeon creates a small space on the surface of the skull where the electronics are placed. From here an electrode carries signals down into the inner ear.

Cochlear implants are not suitable for all deaf people and those considering the surgery have to undertake in-depth hearing, speech and language, educational and psychological assessments. Around 500 adults, aged between 15 and 59, receive cochlear implants in the UK each year.

But some deaf families do not agree with the procedure and are defiant about remaining in the deaf world. Sara and her family consider themselves to be very much part of the deaf community and proud of their deaf culture.

"I don't like to see children suffer because it's not right. I think cochlear implants look awful attached to the side of your head… I'd rather they look normal," says Julie Kendall, Sara's mother.

For Sara, however, it is not just a case of what the implant looks like, but how it would impact on her sense of identity.

"Personally [I] thank God I don't have a cochlear implant because I wouldn't know where I belong, in the deaf world or the hearing world," says Sara. "I know I'm in the deaf world, that's it, but with a cochlear I'd feel in between."

"It's offensive to think you can fix it," she suggests. "You can't fix it. If you're born deaf, you're deaf, that's it."

Asher also finds any suggestion that a cochlear implant might help intrusive.

"We find it offensive when people come in and say, 'oh we can change you into a hearing person', that's why cochlear implants are a really sensitive issue for us."

The term "big D-deaf" is sometimes used to refer to those who identify themselves as culturally deaf, and have a very strong deaf identity. Tyron Woolfe, deputy director of children and young people at the National Deaf Children's Society (NDCS) says deaf culture is extremely varied.

"Deaf teenagers are just like other young people, with diverse interests and social lives. Each deaf young person's experience of deaf culture is different," says Woolfe, "but we do know that being able to meet other deaf young people is very important to many of the deaf teenagers and children we work with."

The decision to not explore the option of a cochlear implant is a matter of personal choice says Woolfe.

"Every deaf child is different and it is important that there is a range of provision to meet the diverse needs and preferences of deaf children.

"A cochlear implant is just one option - it would not benefit all deaf children and young people. Suitability can depend on a child's level and type of deafness.

Nineteen-year-old Meghan Durno would like to hear more and maintain a connection with both the hearing and deaf world."Cochlear implants, whether unilateral or bilateral, don't make deaf children hearing children. They improve access to sound, but they don't replace hearing."

She has been profoundly deaf all her life and had her first hearing aid when she was three months old. She grew up in a deaf family and her mother as well as her sister and grandparents all inherited their deafness.

Meghan decided to have a cochlear implant fitted, but the operation was not without risk as the procedure is most successful when performed on the ear with the best hearing. After surgery, a patient waits four weeks before the implant can be switched on as the area needs to be given time to heal.

During this time Meghan started studying for a veterinary nursing degree at Edinburgh Napier University and had to rely purely on lip reading, which made it difficult for her to understand exactly what her lecturers were saying.

"When I went into the lecture theatre, I just switched off because the lady that was standing there started pacing up and down and talking and I couldn't understand what was being said, so I just looked at the notes," says Meghan.

"I do feel sad sometimes, not so much that I can't hear right now, but knowing that I'll never be able to hear what hearing people hear, but I don't get down about it, I know no different."

"With the implant, I'm able to hear little things I never knew existed," says Meghan. "Like when you rub your hands together, I never knew that made a sound."Once the implant was switched on, Meghan's brain took time to recognise new sounds, but she very quickly discovered noises that she has never heard before, like the piercing sound of a baby crying and the sound of birds singing.

"I was lying down one time and I heard a noise and I was like what's that and I realised it was my own breathing… I've amazed myself with what I can hear, and amazed a piece of machinery can help you hear."

Charity move will improve services

A LONG-running Worcester charity move allows it to improve services for the deaf and hard of hearing reports the Worcester News (30/01/12).

Deaf Direct, which supports people in Worcester-shire, Herefordshire and Oxfordshire, has been based in Worcester since it was founded in 1935.

Today it will move from its Sansome Walk base and open the doors of its new premises at Vesta Tilley House in Lowesmoor. As well as disabled access and visitor parking, chief executive Philip Gerrard explained that the building is fully deaf-friendly – right down to the fire alarm system that has a flashing light in every room to alert those unable to hear it.

The move will also allow the charity to introduce new facilities and services over the coming months. As well as facilities for social groups and new confidential one-to-one advice rooms, it will have a range of equipment on display for clients to try out.

Mr Gerrard said: “We are pleased to be relocating to a more suitable building that will be deaf-friendly and allow us to offer many new services. “It will also help us to continue to campaign and promote the positive aspects of deafness and raise awareness of how we can help to support local deaf people, their families and friends. With one in seven people suffering hearing loss, most people know someone in their family, at work or socially who is affected.”

Its contact details will remain unchanged and it can be reached by calling 01905 746301, texting 07725 244127 or e-mailing info@deafdirect.org.uk

Deaf Crash Victims Should Recover

Three deaf people who are mainstays of the volunteer corps at the Deaf Cultural Center in Olathe are recovering after being hit by a car reports KMBC (18/01/12).

The three had just left a meeting at the Deaf Cultural Center, across from the Kansas School for the Deaf on East Park Street.

Police said Robert Garrison, Sue Gordon and Eva Johnson didn't see the car and the driver didn't see them. After the incident, the driver ran into the cultural center to get someone to call 911.
"It doesn't register with you immediately that someone you know and love might be hurt," said Sandra Kelly, a friend of the crash victims. "And (the driver) said, 'They're in the street! They're in the street!' and that's immediately when you kick in to action."

She said that she and others at the center ran out to cover the three victims with coats and blankets until paramedics arrived. While the victims were badly hurt, Kelly said she has heard that all three will recover.

Kelly said it appears the crash had nothing to do with the fact that the three victims are deaf. She said it was likely they were conversing among themselves and never noticed the car on the dark street.

The crash remains under investigation.

Canadian deaf fear loss of video relay service

A deaf woman is campaigning in Canada to prevent closure of  a video relay service reports Shaheed Devji for CTV News (08/01/12).

For the last year and a half, Lisa Anderson-Kellett has been able to speak to her mother over the phone by sitting in front of a camera and communicating in sign language with an interpreter. The interpreter then verbalizes what she is saying to her mother, and also signs back to Anderson-Kellett what her loved one is saying.

"I could visualize her emotion, her excitement and facial expression through the interpretation, and she then also received that energy from me," Anderson-Kellett told CTV News with the help of an interpreter.

The U.S. has been using a similar system for about a decade, but Canada is still in a trial run commissioned by the CRTC that ends Jan. 15. The CRTC will then study the impact of the video relay system, or VRS, and decide within a year whether if should continue.

Anderson-Kellett is very concerned about the service ending and being forced to use a text-based system for making phone calls.

"To go back would be difficult; it's just not as easy," she said. "Even for the hearing person."

Ryan Ollis, who is also hearing impaired, fears he will lose autonomy after the testing phase ends next week.

"I think if VRS stops, then I'll be back to the old ways of depending a lot on hearing people for communicating," he said. "Having VRS makes me independent, and I much prefer that."

Anderson-Kellett says being able to speak to someone through sign language and face-to-face enhances her ability to have a conversation because she isn't forced to rely on other people.

"I consider it a basic right for equal access; a human rights issue for in terms of equality," she said. 

New films released to help deaf people in area

A NEW series of short films have been produced to break down communication barriers and improve access to information about mental health services for deaf people reports the Doncaster Free Press (08/01/12).

The Rotherham Doncaster and South Humber NHS Foundation Trust (RDaSH) South Yorkshire has made four short films for deaf British Sign Language (BSL) users.

Presented using sign language and with subtitles, the films provide mental health information for professionals, service users and carers.

They also feature information about the Care Programme Approach (CPA) and how to access mental health services.

THe films are available to view via a link on the RDaSH website, and are also in DVD format from the RDaSH service for deaf people with mental health needs.

RDaSH specialist mental health lead for the deaf Rebecca Walls said: ”The average reading age of a deaf person is nine.

“This is because BSL is different linguistically and structurally to English.

“BSL is not a written language so English is a second language to BSL users.

“This may provide a barrier to services, as the majority of information and communication is via written means.”

School For The Deaf records 100% fail rate

In their first Junior Certificate examinations, the School for the Deaf High School recorded a 100 per cent fail rate writes SIBONGILE SUKATI for the Times of Swaziland (04/01/12).


Their motto is ‘be the best you can be,’ however due to a some challenges the school faced, it struggled to perform to its best.

Interestingly in the Swaziland Primary Certificate the School for The Deaf Primary School attained a 100 per cent pass rate.

Fourteen pupils sat for the JC examination but none passed yet in the primary certificate six had sat for the exams with one of them getting a first while two got second class passes and three managed to get third class passes.

Explaining the outcome of the results, Director of Education Dr Sibongile Mntshali-Dlamini said there was still a lot of work to be done in order for the school to achieve better results.

"Some of the teachers we have are not properly trained in the Sign Language that the pupils use and, in some instances, you find that they only have one translator so we have a challenge there," said Dlamini.

She said they further had a lot of work to do with the Examinations Council of Swaziland in order to structure the exams in a manner that was more suitable.

"However, we are not too worried. This was the first year in which we had introduced the exams at the high school and we shall have to conduct more training and engage better-qualified teachers in order for the school to perform better," said Dlamini.

There was no immediate comment from the principal of the school Zodwa Thwala as she was reportedly not at the school yesterday and her phone rang unanswered for the better part of the day. The school is situated at Matsetsa.

Deaf couple launch pizza place in the Mission

There's a full house during the dinner rush at Mozzeria, a month-old Italian restaurant and pizzeria writes Paolo Lucchesi for the San Francisco Chronical (04/01/12). 

Every one of the 45 or so seats is full. There's a slight hint of smoke in the air, thanks to the huge wood-fired oven in the middle of the narrow dining room. Music is playing, but the din is noticeably muted.

A waitress carrying two full plates meanders through the crowd, stopping short of a standing patron blocking her path. With both hands full, she can't tap him on the shoulder. And before sidestepping and successfully swiveling by, she can't ask him to move, because the diner is deaf. And so is she.

Mozzeria may be the first restaurant run by a deaf couple in a major city. The owners, the husband-and-wife pair of Melody and Russell Stein, were both born deaf. Their children, 10-year-old Rylan and 12-year-old Taysia, can hear and are frequent presences in the restaurant. Russell Stein's mother helps out, too.

Yet Mozzeria is more than an endearing family effort. It's already become a beacon for the Bay Area's close-knit deaf community.

Melody Stein was born in Hong Kong and moved to Fremont at age 6. She attended Washington, D.C.'s Gallaudet University, where she met her future husband. He was from a similar big-city background, the pizza mecca that is New York.

After spending nearly a decade in South Dakota, working for a nonprofit organization serving deaf people, they decided it was time for a change. (Though one of their innovations would come in handy in their second careers.) When they moved to San Francisco, a restaurant wasn't in the plans. But that quickly changed.

"I couldn't see myself working at (nonprofit organizations) for the next 10 years, and traveling wasn't good for my family," Melody Stein said in an interview conducted by typing side by side on laptops. Instead, she decided to take after her parents, who are in the restaurant business. "Since I was a kid, I always wanted to run a restaurant," she said.

For training, she attended hospitality school, and went on a gastronomic tour of Italy. Both Steins are self-trained in the kitchen.

After two years of planning, fundraising, real estate bidding wars and the usual construction adventures, Mozzeria opened on Dec. 9, on 16th Street near Guerrero.

Opening a restaurant is never easy for anyone, but the current tech age made the bureaucratic process easier for the Steins, with tools like e-mail and iPhones. Melody Stein has chronicled the entire process, from the chimney installation to the health inspection, on her blog at mozzeria.com.

Technology is key to relating to customers, too. For deaf patrons who call the restaurant for takeout, Mozzeria uses a video relay service, a groundbreaking system that Russell Stein helped develop in his South Dakota career. It features an American Sign Language interpreter relaying a conversation between the two callers.

But for Melody, the biggest surprise of the opening process - aside from the difficulty of getting a small-business loan - was getting feedback from the hearing customers, some of whom have complained on Yelp about the lighting and the music. The Steins say the early reviews have been helpful in figuring out what people want.

The Mozzeria staff consists of eight rotating servers. All are fluent in ASL, and three are deaf. In the kitchen, two dishwashers are deaf, and the third knows ASL.

Most cooks can hear, and the ones who don't know sign language use creative ways of communicating, often jotting quick notes on a dry-erase board in the back kitchen.

There haven't been any major hiccups so far.

"Communication is not a problem, period," said line cook Franklin Grammar, who believes the universal language of restaurant kitchens trumps any potential hurdles. "With the dishwashers, you can look into each other's eyes and know."

The attitude extends to the entire restaurant. The goal is simply to be a great restaurant that all people - hearing and deaf - can enjoy.

"I want Mozzeria to be known for its pizzas and other Italian food, not for deafness," said Melody Stein, noting that they've already established regulars of all sorts.

Still, it's hard to ignore that, on many nights, the clientele is predominantly deaf.

"We are always the only deaf people in restaurants, always," Russell Stein said. "Now it's sometimes the reverse."

Yet the feeling at Mozzeria seems primarily one of locals enjoying a communal setting.

"It's simple cooking, which I love," Grammar said. "There's an aspect of family here. It's a lot bigger than any individuals."

Mozzeria, 3228 16th St. (near Guerrero Street), San Francisco; (415) 489-0963. mozzeria.com. Dinner Tuesday-Sunday; brunch Saturday-Sunday.