Deaf Echo is a milepost on a long road, the long road of writing in the deaf community, the path of literacy, and ultimately, the highway of community improvement.
Chris and I walked alone along a lonely stretch of this road recently, discussing what we wanted to contribute back to the community, from writing to investigative journalism. We wanted to both highlight the good and expose the bad, interview the seraphs and get to know the Devil, show the yin and yang in it all.
I said to Chris, “Let’s shine the light on the dark corners of the community. Nobody else is doing this!”
I imagined his answer to be something along the lines of: “Yes, young Padawan,” Chris says with an air of cynicism, one eyebrow raised. “Dig deep, let us, but what we find…beware.”
His real answer would have to take in account our experiences, everyone’e experiences, in being deaf, and being a writer. It’s not something that is for the faint of heart, for you are frequently attacked from all quarters for being daring or honest.
Growing up, there are three negative messages that I picked up as a deaf person:
First, don’t rock the boat–be happy with the scraps that the hearing community throws to you, and don’t dare bite the hand that feeds you even if it’s also punching you in the face.
Second, deaf people can’t write and when they do, it’s an amazing thing, worthy of admiration and praise (a microaggression if I ever saw one). Aren’t you a marvelous trained monkey?!
Third, don’t criticize or address serious and endemic problems in the deaf community by publicizing those problems (from domestic violence to literacy), especially if you’re deaf. The message seems to be that “You should know better than to make things harder for your fellow deaf people!”
Deaf Echo is for me, in part a response to these three myths, these three oppressive stereotypes that keep the community we are in from growing stronger.
Road-building is a difficult and toilful endeavor especially when you’re working against negative stereotypes, but Deaf Echo is not solely about dark paths leading to ugly places. It is also about the lighter side of life, and a great example of this came up as we were working on the site.
Chris is 40 years old, and of the generation that was surprised to find computers nipping around its knees and were good friends with Lotus 1-2-3 and WordPerfect 5.1.
I am 30, and started using computers in elementary school, and haven’t looked back since then. So, building the Deaf Echo road from a technology perspective has been an journey through the generations as well.
In a dusty diner in a sleepy town called WordPress, we had a conversation:
“Tags are free-form keywords,” I added patiently. “Categories are set in stone and are used for site navigation.”
Chris’s puzzled look didn’t change, and my heart sank a little. “Go to Edit Post and add your tags, or use the auto-tag feature.”
“I lost my post,” Chris said, eyes roving over the computer screen, frantically looking for it.
I groaned.
“Chris, there should be a section called Calais Auto Tagger. It helps you get some good tag ideas for your articles.”
“I don’t see anything like that,” Chris said with growing frustration. “I just went to the dashboard and added my article at the box there.”
“OH,” I said. “You’re still on the dashboard! The rinky-dink Quick-Add there is not what you want! Go to Add New Post and you will see all the options we’ve been talking about!”
We both groaned.
The road to Deaf Echo success will be long, indeed — but not without its rewards.
