Am I the only one who feels that head honchos (mostly CEOs) of bankrupt or defunct companies should not be awarded “golden parachutes?” The amounts these days can go upwards to millions of dollars in these severance packages. Do they deserve these perks for mismanagement? I think not.

Let me take you back to the sandbox. As a child, if you were to hurt another child, whether deliberately or not, did your parents give you a pat on the head and stuffed you with cookies? If you said “yes,” you may have been a product of borderline sadistic DNA suppliers.

I may be using an overly simplistic analogy, but I am not a financial expert. But the point is that people generally should suffer the consequences of their actions and decisions. Why should these top dogs get megabones for gnawing away at the shareholders and/or employees’ wallets and nest eggs? Enron, anyone?

Who do you think will shoulder the brunt of the proposed $700 billion bailout (rejected today by the House of Representatives)? I’ll take the taxpayers for $500, Alex. It’s not rocket science, people.

We will pay the true cost of any proposed bailouts down the road. The question is, how soon is the end of that road? Will the economy do a “Thelma and Louise” and drive off the cliff, dragging the rest of us along for the ride but leaving these fat cats on the side to lick the cream off their paws?

Last Thursday night I had the honor of attending an Eid al-Fitr celebration hosted by Global Deaf Muslim and the Deaf Muslim Student Association (DMSA) at Gallaudet University.  Just in case you are not familiar with the Eid al-Fitr holiday, this is the three day celebration that occurs at the end of Ramadan, a month of fasting during daylight hours.

Although I spent part of my childhood in an Arab-American community where Arabic was spoken and cultural norms from the old country were observed (including the importance of education), I was not really familiar with Islam. Sure, I knew about the Eids and Ramadan and the five pillars of Islam, but for the most part it was academic, not practical, knowledge.   

Why didn’t I know more?  After all, wasn’t my family part Arab-American?

Well, contrary to what many Americans believe, the descriptive terms Arab and Muslim are not synonymous. Not all Muslims are Arab. And not all Arabs are Muslim. There are Christian Arabs and Jewish Arabs. In fact, many of the early immigrants to the USA from Lebanon and Syria (at that time under the Ottoman Empire) were Christian Arabs. And there are Muslims of almost every nationality - in fact, one of my closest friends while I was in graduate school was a Muslim of German-Irish descent who hailed from Iowa.  But I digress…

After entering Ole Jim and climbing the steps to the gathering space on the second floor, I was greeted by two lovely young women who were handing out programs for the evening. Both deaf Muslims and Gallaudet University students, one from Somalia and the other from the DC metro area.   

Ole Jim was filled with deaf Muslims (some were students and staff from Gallaudet and others happened to live nearby), hearing Muslims (some of whom were members of the media) and non-Muslims (deaf and hearing), mostly from Gallaudet University, who were curious and/or wanted to offer their support to these members of the deaf community.

Light shining through the windows of Ole Jim indicated the position of the sun – there would be no food or drink served until the sun had set and darkness set in.  The mistress of ceremonies, a member of DMSA, did a fabulous job of introducing the president of the DMSA and the president of Global Deaf Muslim, who each said a few words about their respective organizations and welcomed the crowd who had gathered for this celebration.

Soon afterwards, Muslim chaplain at Georgetown University and featured speaker of the evening Imam Yahya Hendi appeared. At first I did not even know that the imam had arrived, since he was clothed in western attire, which I was not expecting. During his introduction, his broad smile transcended the language barrier – although he knows Arabic and English, he does not know ASL. He greeted the crowd warmly, quickly putting them at ease with a joke about DC traffic that made everyone laugh, and then smoothly proceeded into opening prayer.

Having never attended Islamic services at a mosque (or anywhere else), I did not know what to expect.  So I reverted back to what I call my “hard of hearing mode”, depending on my powers of observation to do the right thing by watching and following and listening (i.e. cranking up my hearing aid volume as high as possible).  Yet unlike my experiences in other places of worship, where much depends on knowing when to stand and sit, calisthenics were not a critical part of the opening prayer before the imam’s talk. 

Imam Hendi spoke about many things, but the primary message I came aware with was the desire for peace – in many forms.

He mentioned the challenges of Ramadan, where one’s bodily desires of hunger and thirst during the days of fasting are overruled by one’s mind and faith, and the skill of self-discipline that one practices during Ramadan.

He also spoke of compassion, calling upon people to exercise compassion for one another, and he also spoke of social justice, economic equity, and community.

In addition, he raised a subject very dear to my heart, the duty of us to consider our impact on the planet, which he referred to as a “fundamentalist environmentalist” position. In this case, fundamental did not refer to a particular way of practicing religion, but the foundational importance of human dependence on the planet earth, and our duty to care for it. As someone who teaches environmental ethics, I was especially glad to see the imam express this message and to watch the crowd’s positive response to his words about this issue.

As the Imam wrapped up his remarks, the sunlight illuminating the stained glass windows of Ole Jim became dimmer and dimmer. Once he finished speaking, it was time to break the fast!

Buffet tables were laden with food and beverages, and the mood in the room quickly shifted from somber reflection to festive. 

Women and children were asked to line up first at the buffet. Yet, I hung back, hesitating to line up, mainly because I was not fasting and I knew that the Muslims in the room who had been fasting all day were hungrier than I. After several men kindly gestured for me to take my place in line, including one who appeared to be of Arab heritage, I did so, figuring that to dismiss their gracious hospitality would be disrespectful.  (Also, having grown up with a strong sense of Arab hospitality – I knew better than to decline this last offer!)

The food was a delicious mix of mostly Middle Eastern and American dishes – it brought me right back to the holiday buffet tables of my childhood, right down to the baklawa. People congregated at tables, sharing introductions and stories – it was a lovely gathering.

During dessert, people listened to Imam Hendi respond to questions that attendees had jotted down on index cards during dinner. 

One of the questions dealt with ways to stop extremism – the Imam’s response was so compelling that I have been thinking of it for days.

He started with a nonverbal response – fanning his face with his hands as to indicate what a hot question this was, matching his facial expression to his gestures. At this point, I realized that he was trying to connect directly with the deaf members of the audience – since he had waited until the interpreters had finished interpreting the question before he began to gesture. Only after he had established a (non-verbal) exchange with the audience, did he begin to speak. 

Now, I have watched hundreds of hours of hearing speakers having their English words interpreted into ASL. I can count on one hand the number of times I have seen a (non-signing) hearing speaker - one with no experience with the deaf community - communicate directly to deaf audience members.  I was impressed.       

And then he began to speak his response, the contents of which impressed me still more.

Imam Hendi began by boldly stating that extremism in any form was dangerous – whether religious extremism or political extremism, whether Jewish extremism or Christian extremism or Islamic extremism.  He spoke of the incompatibility of reconciling the notion of a God of mercy and love with the rigidity of extremism, and concluded by remarking that “forgiveness does not work well with extremism.”  It was a powerful response to a challenging question – and I just wish that I had been able to capture more of it in my notes. I did later find this link (written earlier this year), which provides more detail about his position.

As the evening came to a close, the Imam began the call to prayer, first chanting the words in Arabic, and then repeating the English translation for the interpreters, who then translated into ASL. He remarked that this was the first time he had ever done the call to prayer in English, though one would never know it by the ease in which he moved between chanting in Arabic and speaking (not chanting) the English translation.

Shortly after the call to prayer, the Muslims in the room gathered for closing prayers led by the imam, kneeling on the cloth spread on the floor in lieu of prayer rugs, and prostrating in the direction of Mecca.   Others in the room watched in respectful silence.

I’d like to end my post by thanking the many people who made the Eid al-Fitr event such a success and especially for extending such a warm welcome to all who attended, including non-Muslims.  I think all of us came away with a better understanding of the Islamic religion and of the needs of the deaf Muslim community, at Gallaudet and beyond.

Disclaimer: Although Teresa Blankmeyer Burke has many institutional and other affiliations, the contents of this blog represent Teresa’s personal views only, and are not associated with any of her professional affiliations.  

I’ve thought long and hard about this campaign. When I learned that Palin, a newbie barely versed with the echelons of our national capital powerhouse, was selected, my first thought was, “It’s a ploy.” I didn’t even think, “Gosh, possibly the first female vice president ever” nor “Wow, McCain’s clever.” If anything, it is…wait…I’m going to borrow all the letters that spells Palin and type this word: appalling.

It puts me to shame that my own country is capable of choosing this path of trash. I don’t care that this is an historical moment.  It is not about the gender thing.  Obama stated this when interviewed about Palin’s selection, “I think that has less to go with gender than it has to do with her ideological predispositions, which are closely aligned to theirs.” It is as if McCain just Googled her and said, “there’s my girl.”

McCain alone was a fair competition against Obama. Nonwithstanding McCain’s geriatric contributions to the presidential ticket, he had a fairly respectful following by both parties. However, when socially ultraconservative and anti-abortionist Palin was plucked out of the oil-rich land, became an overnight sensation, and was dubbed as the “Hot Governor” or “VPILF,” McCain suddenly looked pathetic. And his actions have made many lukewarm Obama supporters into zealous pro-Obamans and pro-Obawomans. And unfortunately, started a trend of white women voters switching to the McCain/Palin side (there’s no telling yet how broad or limited this trend may be).

How did this happen? You know, when a couple meets, you hope they bring the best out of each other, affirming the phrase, “My better half.”  That’s how it should be with presidential and vice presidential candidates–some kind of marriage that works. McCain and Palin. It’s like trying to wake up from a bad dream. McCain-Palin. It doesn’t exude that certain fuzziness as Obama, the change agent and Biden, the author of Violence Against Women Act (and entirely responsible for my current job, thanks).

But, it is still too soon to know how this would impact the voters, especially white women. Many of the white women voters were Hillary supporters. How many of them will be switching over to McCain/Palin ticket?  The ephemeral novelty of McCain’s selection of Palin will soon come to an end. The hard part is to gain the same kind of momentum for six more weeks.  Arkansas Senator Blanche Lincoln has also echoed the “Palin-will-wilt-in-the-spotlight theme.” Election 2008 is apparently the fight for white women voters. The scary thing is there’s no clue which direction they will choose.

One thing that is explicitly clear is this: Obama needs to garner support from white women voters now. According to Politico, there are over 52 million women voting in the general election.

Remember this when making a decision on who to vote that it’s not just the president that you may want now, it’s also the possible president should Obama or McCain somehow expire. Let me reiterate this: McCain’s 72. Palin as President? Good lord, I may want to hop on a plane aimed for the wolves and get as far away as possible from my country. 

Teigan Van Roosmalen, a deaf Australian swimmer, missed the start of a final race in Beijing on Tuesday at the Paralympic Games after the light on the block that was supposed to coincide with the starter gun malfunctioned. They immediately re-ran the race, so she was still able to participate.  She came in eighth.

Still, headlines immediately ran about how she was marooned on the blocks, heartbroken and crying.

Wait a sec — I thought the Paralympic Games were for those with actual physical disabilities?! Y’know, like amputees and that sort of thing? Teigan also has Usher’s syndrome, uses a cochlear implant, and competes with retinitis pigmentosa as her classification for participation in the games, but still, does that mean she can’t move her body in certain ways? Not at all.

Well, color me uninformed. A quick search reveals that the Paralympic games actually classifies their athletes six ways: 1) those with Cerebral Palsy, 2) amputees, 3) visual impairment, 4) spinal cord injuries, 5) intellectual disabilities, and 6) anybody who doesn’t fit into the first five categories (les autres).

Whoa. Number 6 is a whopper of a category. But I’m clueless, so I won’t go there.

And number 5 sounds familiar: to participate in the Special Olympics, To be eligible to participate in the Special Olympics, “athletes must be at least 8 years old and identified …as having one of the following conditions: intellectual disability; a cognitive delay as determined by standardized measures such as intelligence quotient or other generally accepted measures; or a closely related development disability, i.e., functional limitations in both general learning and adaptive skills.”

Sounds like, in theory, someone could compete in both games? Guess that’s not a bad thing — Teigan herself has apparently competed in both the Deaflympics and the Paralympic Games. Good for her; it’s an undoubtedly hard-earned honor.

But I’m confused here. The US Olympic Committee has a history of supporting the US Olympic and Paralympic teams …but not the US Deaflympic team, even though the International Olympic Committee does recognize the Deaflympics.

And, after all, one of the main principles of the Deaflympics is the idea of equality through sports. From the Deaflympics website:

“Unlike the athletes in all other IOC sanctioned games, including the Olympics, the Paralympics and the Special Olympics, the Deaflympians cannot be guided by starter’s guns, bullhorn commands or referee whistles. Nor can the majority of the athletes experience the crucial sense of inclusion in other general games because they cannot just strike up a conversation or in other ways communicate instantly or in a practical manner with their fellow hearing athletes.”

Hello? Looks like Teigan’s missed start just illustrates the inequality of even the Paralympics, albeit inadvertently, beautifully.

Oh, and postscript: “Unlike other games for athletes with disabilities, which are all directed by non-disabled officials, the Summer and Winter Deaflympics are run by deaf people for deaf athletes.”

Snap.

(Photo from here.)

A few days ago, YouTube added captioning/subtitle support to its videos. Users can upload their own SubViewer (.sub) or SubRip (.srt) files to videos. Viewers can turn on captioning (if enabled) by clicking on the bottom-right button on the player. Right now, however, YouTube doesn’t seem to offer a feature to search for captioned videos only. 

Got a favorite YouTube video you’ve been itching to watch with captions? According to TechCrunch, the captioning company SubPLY will caption 5000 YouTube videos submitted by users like you. FREE. So, hurry! Click here to read the details and submit a YouTube video you’d like to see captioned. Be sure to add the YouTube video link to a comment here at DeafDC so we all can watch it, too!

(Unfortunately I doubt they can caption ASL videos, just spoken English or Spanish videos.) 

We may experience the initial stages of an eager DPHH attendee going by the name Hanna (the Tropical Storm making its way up the East Coast) but she will not arrive in time, shucks. She’s been known to whirl through crowds, and to break the ice by literally spraying in all directions. Despite the fun her presence would have brought, we encourage you to consider your safety when traveling to DPHH.

Tropical Storm Hanna is expected to hit tomorrow afternoon. Please check the weather forecast at weather.com for tonight’s conditions:
http://www.weather.com/weather/hourbyhour/USDC0001?from=36hr_topnav_undeclared

For more information about tonight’s DPHH:
http://www.deafdc.com/blog/deafdccom/2008-08-21/september-dphh-at-georgetown-washington-harbour/

Well, who knew? Turns out, according to the Washington Times, Reed Doughty, Redskins safety, has a hearing loss. Don’t get too excited. He’s definitely not deaf. Just has a hearing loss.

Gotta give up a simultaneous eye-roll and kiss-fist for the headline of that story: “Redskins’ Doughty tackles hearing loss.”

Get it? He’s a football player. He tackles. He has hearing loss. Ha ha ha! Ha. Um, ha.

If his name sounds familiar, you’re right. He’s the safety that was called up to replace the late, great Sean Taylor, #21 forever. Doughty’s story was only made more memorable when we found out his hefty paycheck was going towards his baby son’s medical expenses for battling chronic kidney failure… and it almost wasn’t enough.

Anyway, this is newsworthy why? Because he’s been able to get by without hearing aids pretty much since childhood, but since this year the NFL is permitting an audio linkup for a defensive player, Doughtry won’t be able to watch defensive signals on the sideline. He’s gotta hustle to make sure he can see London Fletcher in the huddle. ‘Cause, y’know, if he can see him, he can hear him.

Other than that, is his hearing loss a big deal? Eh. Not really.

Hey, cool.

(Pic from here.)

In DC, is there a place you can go where everyone knows your name in sign? (Okay, sorry for the lame attempt at trying to re-create the spirit of the theme song from “Cheers” … Where everybody knows your name, and they’re always glad you came. You wanna be where you can see, our troubles are all the same. You wanna be where everybody knows your name… )

I’ve got one. This summer I’ve fallen in love with Sticky Rice, a sushi place that just opened on H Street NE, between 12th and 13th. With it being a mere ten minutes walk from my house, I find myself there every week (sometimes even twice in the same week despite the complaints of my painfully thin wallet).

When I go in, one of the hostesses, who does know how to sign because her mom’s deaf (although she’ll soon be leaving for college again once the summer ends), greets me familiarly and asks if I want to sit at the bar, my usual location. The bartender with the mohawk will pour me a particularly potent gin and tonic while I linger over the menu with prettily named items (”snap, crackle, pop”) when I already know I’ll just order the dirty vegan with a couple of sushi rolls.

If I’m there with my friends (usually Kristi Ann and Michelle - we stay for hours just talking, laughing, and ordering another plate of garden balls), we’ll opt for a table on the first floor, although there is a sushi bar on the second floor that sometimes has deaf sushi chefs (is there some technical term that I am ignorant of? I guess I could google it… itamae!). Our table is the first booth, which Kristi Ann thinks the better electronic waterfall sign is located. I like it because I get a good view of the Asian soap operas (subtitled!) they play above the front door.

The bartenders and the waiters might scribble away at their pads, resuming conversations that we started the last time I was there. Like Erik, the general manager, wants to know how to make their Blingo nights ASL-friendly. Blingo nights are the speedy bingo games held every Thursday night. Once they gave away a free iphone for the prize! These games have even hearing people going “what did he just say??” So the matter of making it accessible to ASL users is no easy matter. I brought another friend of mine, Jen Kaika, a brilliant ASL interpreter and awesome friend, over once to discuss strategy on this very matter but we were too distracted by the bucket of tater tots and sinfully delicious coconut rice dessert to make any concrete plans. But I have confidence.

Sticky Rice, you’ve become my Cheers (minus the guys at the bar with business suits, remember Norm? and insert young and hot-looking tattooed waiters and waitresses).

So what about you? What’s your place, your Cheers?

It’s that time of year again, the biggest DPHH of the fall slate! We’re hosting the September DPHH at the Washington Harbor, with a new, unprecedented twist: choices galore! Meet at the water fountain that is adjacent to our usual location and  have your pick of the bars that encircle it. Last September, a happy group of DPHHers docked their boat at the Harbor and came ashore to join in the fun. If you have a boat, avoid the road traffic and take the water route for a fun evening (be sure to exercise caution, just as you would on the road)!

The outdoor waterfront/patio area is serviced by establishments which you can choose from, such as Tony & Joe’s outdoor bar, Nick’s Riverside Grill, Cabanas, and Sequoia. The waterfront provides a spectacularly dazzling view of the Potomac, the Kennedy Center, Key Bridge, and Washington Monument among other District fixtures. While you enjoy that ice-cold beer, or the tasty flavors of your favorite drink, you’ll have a nice background to rest your eyes on, before someone spots you and chats you up!

The nearest Metro is the Foggy Bottom stop on the Orange/Blue lines. From Union Station, you can take the D.C. Circulator Bus which traverses the city directly from Union Station to points along K Street in Georgetown. One of its two Washington Harbor stops will leave you with an easy eight-minute down 25th or 27th street stroll to the waterfront!

Nearest Metro: Foggy Bottom (Orange/Blue Lines)

Link to the DC Circulator bus map:
http://www.dccirculator.com/routemap.html

Washington Harbour link:
http://dc.about.com/od/neigborhoodprofiles/a/WashHarbour.htm

Please visit the new Washington, DC DPHH webpage for the specific address and the latest photos at:
http://dphh.com/washingtondc

You work hard. Put in the proverbial elbow grease. Pull teeth in order to get what you want or need, and you got the bite marks to prove it. And then… someone else comes along and shamelessly lays claim to the fruits of your labor.

Sounds like a typical cutthroat workday, right? Wrong. I’m talking about making arrangements for an interpreter.

Throughout the years, I’ve noticed two different types of people who ride on the coattails of other people’s efforts. There are those people who realize you have first dibs and follow your lead because, if not for your efforts, the interpreter wouldn’t have been there in the first place.

One time, I secured an interpreter for an event that was hosted by the county public school system. It just so happened that a deaf couple showed up, and they were not aware of the procedure for obtaining an interpreter. During the event, while we all were utilizing the interpreter’s services, the deaf couple respectfully yielded. “GO AHEAD YOU FIRST PERSON ASK,” they would sign in fluent American Sign Language (ASL).*

I’ve also been on the other side of the fence. There were occasions where someone else had already snagged an interpreter, and I have deferred to the person. In situations like these, the interpreter usually does his/her best to evaluate the situation, and makes sure we get equal treatment. However, it’s an unwritten rule that the person who made the request first gets first dibs.

An interpreter friend of mine recounted the time when four interpreters from two different agencies showed up for the same job. It turned out that the two deaf clients each requested interpreter services without being aware of the other’s actions. They all came up with an agreeable solution, which was that one interpreter from each agency stayed. This was to ensure that both agencies get reimbursed properly.

Then there are those people who need to consult Aretha Franklin and learn about “R-E-S-P-E-C-T/find out what it means to me.” To put it bluntly, they are just plain selfish, rude, and inconsiderate.

A colleague of mine requested a cued speech transliterator for a workshop. An unfamiliar deaf person showed up. Upon seeing the cued speech transliterator, the person nearly threw a fit in demanding to know where the sign language interpreter was. Turned out the person didn’t bother to log in an accommodation request. Tough cookies.

An experience took place a few years ago that left a sour taste in my mouth. I had finally secured an interpreter for a personal event, after battling the famously ubiquitous line spouted by the organizers: “You need to bring your own interpreter.” Upon arriving at the venue that night, I was enjoying myself until I noticed a man slowly slithering his way to where I was. “DEAF YOU?” he inquired. After affirming that I was, he declared, “SAME SAME.”

After a short period of time making small meaningless chit-chat, his ulterior motives became clear. He attempted to whisk the interpreter that I fought hard for away from me for whatever communication purposes that suited him. Even the interpreter darted a questioning glance towards me regarding his shenanigans.

“WAIT WAIT WAIT! DO DO?” I signed to him in an urgent manner.

“WRONG WRONG WRONG?” he responded, repeating that sign in rapid succession that is the loose ASL glossy* version of the phrase: “Whatsamatterwithcha?”

“STOP PLAY. ME SERIOUS. WHAT-DOING?” I demanded.

“NOTHING TAKE EASY. NO BIG D-E-A-L.” The last word he fingerspelled each letter with a flourish.

“YES BIG D-E-A-L! NOT RIGHT TAKE INTERPRETER WITHOUT CHECK WITH ME FIRST!”

Then he said something that took the interpreter and me by surprise. “FOR FOR ASK YOU? ME HAVE RIGHT USE INTERPRETER. YOU MUST LEARN SHARE.”

Then the interpreter, who generally did not like confrontations, was becoming slightly alarmed at the turn of events. She then stepped in and informed him that she could not just pick up and leave with him without checking with me first since I made the request for an interpreter, and not him.

“ME NOT ACCEPT. SHOULD SHARE PERIOD.”

“EXPECT ME ACCEPT ACCEPT LET YOU GO?” I shot back. “NO NOT ACCEPT! INSULT ME.” I glared back at him. I then motioned for the interpreter to come with me, and we left him in the dust. Of all the nerve! Needless to say, I did not see him the rest of the evening.

“There are deaf people who feel an automatic entitlement to things without actively making some kind of effort,” confessed an interpreter I contacted. “This is true in other demographics, but especially predominant in the Deaf community.” This interpreter requested anonymity due to the potential backlash from clients, who are a part of the Deaf culture, an extremely small world indeed.

Sometimes, unique situations arise and you stand up to the occasion– simply because its the right thing to do morally, even so it may not be legal. There was that time I participated in an intensive all-day seminar. A Latina woman happened to be the half of the interpreting duo. Early on, it was discovered that one of the deaf participants’ mother did not have a strong command of English as Spanish was her native tongue. We all felt bad for the mother because she was struggling to understand what was going on.

Evidently, the ball was dropped somewhere, and a Spanish translator was not available. The interpreter asked her partner and us if it was OK that she step down from her role as a sign language interpreter and provide translation services for the mother. All of the participants unanimously agreed, much to the relief of the mother. A short time later, the agency sent over another sign language interpreter, and the company that organized the seminar agreed to take on the extra expenses for their oversight.

My general philosophy is that if you put in the elbow grease, you should be able to enjoy the fruits of your labor. However, the fruits of your labor would be sweeter if you share them with someone respectful of your efforts. Have you experience any horror stories about obtaining an interpreter only to have someone waltz in and think s/he is entitled to their services?

* Important note: Because ASL does not have a true written format, glossies are American Sign Language (ASL) signs transcribed into English, sign for sign. It’s a common misconception that ASL glossies are “broken English,” but that is not true. ASL is a language in its own right. I do not profess to be a linguistic expert in ASL, and the above glossies are derived from my particular experience.