The election of 2008 looms near, as so many others have before. In 2000 and 2004, we were faced with fiascoes. We’ve had the greenest president that never was (Florida, what happened?) and a man who lost because he was the world class flip-flopper. What we were left with is arguably the most idiotic president in the history of
America. This time, though, I have hope.  

First of all, this is the first election where most of the candidates are fresh. We have many new faces, all rising to the challenge of leading America to new frontiers.

We hear about some of these new frontiers non-stop: we could have the first female president, the first African-American president, or the first Latino president.

That’s right — I said a Latino president. Jay Leno has called this guy “the strongest candidate you’ve never heard of.” Let me introduce Bill Richardson.  

Richardson first caught my eye when I saw him on ABC News over the weekend. He was incredibly articulate in answering questions on the Iraq war. To me, the measure of a politician is his or her rhetoric. I watched Hilary Clinton give a speech at a fundraiser geared toward women and I left feeling flatly uninspired. This wasn’t so when I saw Richardson in action. This was on TV, no less, while Clinton was there in person. I made a silent vow to myself that I’d learn more about this man. 

Here are just a few things I have learned so far.

Richardson has been the governor of New Mexico since 2002. He has served as the Secretary of Energy and was an ambassador to the United Nations.

This man has managed to transform New Mexico from one of the poorest states in the union into a thriving part of a stronger America. He encouraged companies to move to New Mexico with tax incentives for energy-efficient businesses. Now, the state is becoming widely known for its wind, solar, and biofuel industries. Hundreds of new jobs have made New Mexico an increasingly appealing state for many prospective employees.  

Richardson ferociously opposed building a border fence, stating, “It’s a terrible symbol.” His solution to the illegal immigration problem and terrorism is tightening border security, not building a fence to divide countries. Berlin Wall redux, anyone?  

He was instrumental in making Darfur part of the political dialogue, thanks to his stint with the United Nations and extensive foreign policy experience. He led a variety of international missions in which he established relationships with many foreign leaders, including the president of Sudan, Omar Hassan al-Bashir. Al-Bashir was willing to see Richardson because he was comfortable with Richardson’s leadership style. Richardson pressed al-Bashir to allow U.N. peacekeepers into the Darfur region.  

Richardson could be the nation’s first bilingual president, speaking fluent Spanish as well as English. Imagine a version of Dr. Robert Davila, Gallaudet’s president, in the White House!  But I digress…  

Richardson favors withdrawing the troops from Iraq in six months–completely. If elected, He has a seven-point plan for redirecting these troops to areas where the presence of Al-Qaeda is strong, like Afghanistan.  

He is a strong supporter of domestic partnership, legalizing marijuana for medicinal purposes, stem cell research, civil unions, and national health care coverage .  

By his mandate, each child in the state of New Mexico gets health coverage up to age 5.    

His book, Leading By Example: How We Can Inspire an Energy and Security Revolution, is slated to be released in November.  

His fundraising is modest in comparison to his Democratic counterparts. Between April 1 and June 30, Richardson raised $7.1 million, bringing his year to date fundraising total to more than $13 million (compare this to $27 million raised by Clinton, and $32.5 million raised by Obama). And yet, he doesn’t seem to flinch. 

Perhaps it is because this dark horse is gaining ground. As the media frenzy centers around Clinton, Obama, and Edwards, he’s quietly garnering support from Democrats and Republicans. 

Is this the way to entice voters? Will this approach sell me on Richardson? These thoughts force me to consider how I will choose a candidate.  As I look at the options, I remind myself who I am first. I am a feminist.  I am a supporter of a multicultural society. I am a citizen who cares about social justice and the environment. I will not vote Clinton because she is a woman. I will not vote for Obama because he is African-American. I will not vote for Richardson because he’s Latino. I will not vote for Mitt Romney because he’s a Mormon.  I will not vote for Thompson because he’s an actor on Law and Order.  But I see something in Richardson that appeals to my interests, and I believe the interests of many Americans. Do not misunderstand me, I am not saying that Richardson is the ideal candidate. I am not on this ride saying he’s the perfect guy. I’m just saying that just maybe there is a reason to hope if a person like him is actually running for president.  

Jon Stewart of The Daily Show has called Bill Richardson “Batman.” Batman for president? Perhaps this candidate doesn’t have to be a comic fantasy; with our help, he could be a reality.  

An American hero… even a cynic like me is rooting for that.  

Recently, I came across this interesting animated icon that has been used by several people on different online journals:

First of all, let me declare that I am not one of those rabid bible-thumping individuals frothing at the mouth. Far be from it. I don’t dress in elaborate and flamboyant costumes for Sunday church nor do I get the Holy Spirit that causes me to “stop, drop, and roll” in the church aisles like the fire safety advertisements we see every now and then. I don’t preach my beliefs to people, and I don’t expect people to push their religion on me. This is America, after all. We are supposed to be able to practice our beliefs in peace, whatever they are, as long as those beliefs don’t threaten or intrude on others’ comfort and safety zone.

So I’ve decided to do a bit of informal research to determine if the passages in the animation were actually in the Bible and not from someone’s religious fervor or overactive imagination. Turns out that these passages are real. They all appear in the book of Leviticus. Let’s take a look. Remember, I am not professing to be an expert on religion, so please keep an open mind. Also, in case you’re wondering, the first number before the colon of “XX:XX” means the chapter, and the last number means the verse.

Shaving - 19:27
Ye shall not round the corners of your heads, neither shalt thou mar the corners of thy beard.

Gillette and Bics are enjoying strong and steady sales throughout the years despite this proclamation. And there’s an abundance of barbershops and beauty salons that are not lacking in customers. Go to a church or temple, and you’ll see plenty of people sporting neatly coiffed hairstyles and trimmed beards and goatees.

Shrimp - 11:10
And all that have not fins and scales in the seas, and in the rivers, of all that move in the waters, and of any living thing which is in the waters, they shall be an abomination unto you.

I love to eat shrimp and lobster, no lie. And I’m not the only one in the boat. But I was puzzled as to why eating shellfish isn’t allowed. I asked a supposedly Christian friend of mine that question. “I don’t know why not” she shrugged, before heading off to an end-of-summer crab feast with her trusty hammer designed to break apart the creatures.

Tattoos - 19:28
Ye shall not make any cuttings in your flesh for the dead, nor print any marks upon you: I am the LORD.

There’s been an explosion of tattooed people in recent years. No longer taboo, people are now crossing off the “get a tattoo” item on their to-do list. Someone pointed out that it was ironic that tattoos would be verboten considering that God put a mark on Cain. Maybe that mark was a tattoo?

Working on Saturday – 19:30
Ye shall keep my sabbaths, and reverence my sanctuary: I am the LORD.

The Bible pointed out how God created the world as we know it in seven days. On the seventh day, he rested. So therefore, to honor his hard work and elbow grease, we are not allowed to work on Saturday, which is the seventh day of the week. Saturdays should be a day for reverence. But the world of commerce continues to turn, even on Saturdays. Now what I would like to know is how did Sunday become known as a day for services for most religions in most cases?

Polyester – 19:19
Ye shall keep my statutes. Thou shalt not let thy cattle gender with a diverse kind: thou shalt not sow thy field with mingled seed: neither shall a garment mingled of linen and woollen come upon thee.

Nearly 100% of the world’s population is automatically guilty. Take a look at the label on your favorite and oft-laundered shirt. I bet polyester is in the mix.

Bunnies – 11:6
And the hare, because he cheweth the cud, but divideth not the hoof; he is unclean unto you.

Ok, round up your pet bunnies. Those cute animals are abominations! Time for Bugs Bunny to chomp on his last carrot and ride off into the sunset. But wait, I just thought of something. Why is the mascot for Easter, one of the biggest days in the Christian religion, a rabbit? A point to ponder…

Hamburger – 17:10
And whatsoever man there be of the house of Israel, or of the strangers that sojourn among you, that eateth any manner of blood; I will even set my face against that soul that eateth blood, and will cut him off from among his people.

There goes McDonalds, Burger King, and Wendy’s!

Vegetable Gardens – 19:19
Ye shall keep my statutes. Thou shalt not let thy cattle gender with a diverse kind: thou shalt not sow thy field with mingled seed: neither shall a garment mingled of linen and woollen come upon thee.

This is the same passage attributed to the crime of polyester. This time, broccoli and cauliflower aren’t allowed to mingle in the same place. Too bad, because my garden was a lively spot to cultivate and grow as a person, or in this case, a vegetable.

Homosexuality – 18:22
Thou shalt not lie with mankind, as with womankind: it is abomination.

This is the big one, and the one that is almost always quoted and bandied about. To put it in a nutshell, it’s not a very good idea to sleep with someone of your own gender.

Now this is what gets me: If this particular sin is frown upon and violently discouraged so badly, why do most of us commit some of these other sins mentioned above without a second thought? If being a homosexual is such a huge problem in our society, what about us evil shellfish eaters? According to Dr. Rex Russell, author of What the Bible Says About Healthy Living, “…”it has long been recognized that the meat of shellfish-shrimp, crabs, lobsters, etc.-is especially dangerous. Many illnesses, including instant paralysis, devastate some people every day as a result of eating shellfish.”

I suspect most people would rather be homosexual and walk/run/skip instead of being heterosexual and confined to a wheelchair. Before I raise the ire of the mobility-impaired, I want to point out that when people start picking and choosing verses that are convenient for them, it can be a slippery slope. Religion is a touchy subject and, like a rose, can be very thorny. But does it smell as sweet with all the apparent contradictions to the way we live? You be the judge. At the end, the animation spouted about the abominations: “Quote one, quote them all. ‘Kay?” That is indeed Common Sense 1:01.

I found this to be infinitely disturbing and equally hypnotic. I can’t vouch for the accuracy of the numbers (hopefully the figures will become part of any ensuing discussion), but if they are accurate–in a word, baby: whoa.

Play around with the time buttons (year, month, week, day, and now). Simply click on “now” and watch how fast worldwide births start to outnumber worldwide deaths. It’s a sobering moment. Then click on “year” and watch how fast cardiovascular diseases rise. You might also want to take a look at the column on the left hand side (near the bottom) and watch how much/fast oil is being pumped out of the ground. What do these totals have in common?

They both go up, up, up.

Again, I’m being a lazy blogger today. I did no investigating whatsoever into the numbers. To you seasoned statistical (and budding!) scientists out there… is this thing for real?!?

Three years ago we first held DPHH at Sequoia in Georgetown for the September 2005 DPHH. It was a smashing hit so we brought it back last year in “Sequoia Strikes Back.” Now it’s time for the third installment of the sequel, the “Return of DPHH” to Sequoia!

If Buffalo Billiards was too hot in July, and Caddies on Cordell a tad bit warm in August, then you’ll enjoy basking in the cool breeze at Sequoia in September. Plant your roots at the alluring view of the Potomac river while reminiscing about your summer vacations with your friends.

Sequoia is a longer walk from the metro than Caddies on Cordell so put on your comfortable shoes, but don’t dress down for what may be the biggest DPHH of the year. Some reported that 500+ people showed up in 2006!

***Important note***

The inside portion of Sequoia is booked, we will be using the outside bar. There will be plenty of space to mingle around the waterfront, including at nearby bars.

Thanks to Viable for sponsoring the Washington DC area DPHH.

Men, do you want to put your muscles to work? When a punching bag just won’t do to vent out your frustrations or anger? May I suggest this:

If you have about $5,600 burning a hole in your wallet, you too can have a stainless steel box chair that “allows you - the user - to ultimately determine the resulting aesthetic by literally banging and hitting the form into the shape you desire.” And the pièce de résistance? A hammer is included in the package.

Ladies, do you want to set yourself apart from everyone else in the crowd? Don’t want just any old and ordinary luxury purse? Then sling one of these handbags over your shoulder:

The Louis Vuitton Tribute Patchwork handbag, which is created from other Louis Vuitton purses sewn together, will only set you back a cool $52,500. You know you’re in good company because Beyonce Knowles has one!

It’s nice when you have money to burn, right? If you become ultra-rich (net worth over 10 million dollars), what extravagant purchases would you make?

Convenient. Comfortable. Crazy-looking. Clownish. Whatever your favorite adjective is for the footwear phenomenon known as Crocs, everyone can agree on one thing: they’re CHEAP.

At about $30 bucks for a pair, Crocs are a bargain. These clog-type shoes are light, foamy soft, and come in an arresting array of colors, including neon green, bright blue, and hot pink. According to the official website, it all started when three friends from Colorado went into business together to develop the “innovative type of footwear”:

Originally, Crocs™ Shoes were intended as a boating/outdoor shoe because of its slip-resistant, non-marking sole. By 2003, Crocs™ Footwear had become a bona-fide phenomenon, universally accepted as an all purpose shoe for comfort and fashion.

I don’t know about Crocs being fashionable, but one thing is for sure. Crocs elicit reaction from people that ranges from praise to just plain venom.

“They are SO comfortable! Helps me walk better, believe it or not!” gushed a friend who loves to hit the pavements on a regular basis (and apparently throw fashion sense to the wind in the process). Another friend who thinks outside the box commented that she likes “…the fact that people can personalize their Crocs.”

A harried mother with a rambunctious three-year-old son said, “For my son, yes. For me, no. For one thing, they look stupid on me.” She then explained how her son has extra wide and thick feet, so finding sandals for him is a challenge. Not the case with Crocs, which “fit him nicely.”

“No males over the age of ten should wear them,” affirmed a coworker of mine. When I prompted him further as to why, he stated, “How can anyone respect a guy wearing clown shoes? May as well call Bozo the Clown.”

A fashionista visibly recoiled at the mere suggestion of these particular shoes gracing her neatly pedicured feet. “I hope you meant to finish the pronunciation of the word ‘crocodile,’” she sniffed. “Those…things are FUGLY and cheap!” I suspect she didn’t mean cheap in a monetary way.

It’s interesting to note how these shoes cross so many socio-economic lines. From old money and the nouveau riché to the working poor and the po’ (too poor to afford the “o” and the “r”), these shoes pop up on the extremities of practically everyone. Celebrities and important figureheads such as our *cough cough* highly esteemed President George W. Bush wear them. Let’s not forget about those annoying tourists that firmly implant their croc-covered feet on the left side of the Metro escalators during rush hour, much to the chagrin of angry commuters. And yes, a few commuters do rock those Crocs!

Recently I went to an upscale nightclub and a guy was turned away at the door because he was wearing Crocs. Crocs should be renamed Cockroaches because they are all over the place like the vermin! And therein lies the crux of my problem. There should be, and IS, a limit to where and when you can wear these shoes.

The friend that liked personalized Crocs pointed out, “It’s definitely not work-safe.” On a forum, an attorney admitted wearing the goofy footwear to court. Where’s the justice in that? He should be held in contempt for committing this criminal fashion faux pas! Some of the celebrities are guilty of this crime as well, sporting Crocs at red carpet events, for chrissakes. Quélle horror!

And what about Mother Nature? If you give a crock about the environment, then wearing Crocs is an oxymoron. IHateCrocs.com pointed out:

They are bad for the environment. The material they are made out of cannot be recycled or bio-degraded. Years from now when the fad wears off we will have landfills full of the things. Our legacy to the people of the future is going to include not only all the trash we are already producing but bright, neon-coloured, foam shoes.

IHateCrocs.com also has some videos of people setting fire to Crocs and cutting them up with scissors. You could see the hatred. There are even several Facebook groups dedicated to bringing down the Crocs empire.

Love them or hate them, the Crocs’ popularity won’t wane anytime soon. Me, I’m in the “hate ‘em” camp. What camp are YOU in?

When it comes to listening to music, I’ve never been one to really listen to the beats. Until I met someone who works with music and is constantly thinking in terms of beats. He will talk to me and try to explain how he puts together some of his pieces. I have found that he has influenced me in how I listen to music. I used to listen and try to read the lyrics, but now I actually do find myself disregarding the lyrics, and paying more attention to how the instruments sound. I don’t think I’ll ever get to the point of where I will fully understand how everything works with one another.

If there’s one thing I’ve always wanted to do and that is to learn how to play the keyboard. When I was a kid, my parents did get me a keyboard. I only got as far as being able to learn a few notes (No, I don’t remember them anymore.) Now I do see an opportunity that lies directly in front of me when I can take a childhood dream of mine and learn to play the keyboard.

As I was speaking with him about taking the time to learn how to play the keyboard. He explained to me that most people learn how to play the keyboard first over any other instrument because it is one of the most intrincate instruments that you can deal with. Once you’ve mastered the keyboard, you’re able to pick up any other instrument and learn how to play those without any difficulty.

This brought me to an interesting point, it seems like most people play their instruments by ear once they’ve learned how to play the instrument. I was wondering how exactly do deaf people do this? Granted, there are deaf musicians out there that have been trained to play any song they want.

Do they just learn all the notes they need to know, and keep at it? Do they memorize every single song? How do they know if something sounds off key?  I know it can’t be easy, but if it’s a dream of someone to be able to be a master in music, then I’m sure the efforts they put forth is incredible. I’m just really curious as to how a profoundly deaf person (from birth) who has never been able to really grasp how things sound, and translate that to music.

Sooner rather than later, I’ll start sitting down at the keyboard and learning the basics. and hopefully, a year from now, I’ll be able to play a couple songs. I think it’d be a lot of fun, and an amazing learning experience. Do you  have any tips for how a deaf person might start learning how to play instruments? How did you start learning? What was the easiest way you found to learn how to play your instrument?

It’s been a year since we first read about the NAD’s complaint against the Redskins. In a nutshell, complainants wanted access to announcements and rulings and that sort of thing during games.

This morning, the Washington Post printed an update on the complaint.

I’m fuzzy on what the update itself is, but basically the NAD says the Redskins franchise hasn’t done enough. The Redskins say they don’t know what more they can do, and no way in heck are these announcements going up on the JumboTron.

Read into the situation what you will.  I’m not familiar enough with the case to know what technological remedies have been accepted or rejected, and so as a Redskins fan I just have to sit, let the lawyers battle it out, and hope someday I’ll have the same game experience as everyone else.  But one thing I glean from the WaPo piece is that the Redskins would like to believe that asking for equal access for all paying fans, deaf or not, is woefully unjust.

David Donovan, attorney for the team, said in an interview last week that the team had gone above and beyond to accommodate deaf and hearing-impaired fans.

“At this point, we are scratching our heads,” Donovan said. “As far as we are concerned, we have done everything that we have been asked to do. There is no other stadium in the NFL or professional sports that has attempted to accommodate the hearing impaired as much as we do.”

The thing is, if they can accommodate hearing fans by maintaining a sound system and hiring the personnel to run it and send out these announcements, then why is making sure the same information is available visually going “above and beyond” for the “hearing impaired?” Why isn’t it instead a scenario of making sure all fans get what they paid for - a good ol’ game of gridiron and all the trappings that come with it?

Late last year, John F. Egbert (yes, the guy behind the protest of AG Bell and the Deaf Bilingual Coalition — see also here) self-published MindField, a novel about a mysterious strain of meningitis unleashed by terrorists that leaves untold numbers of Americans deaf.

I’d bought my copy several months ago, but waited until I had a free summer moment to read. Hearing about positive reviews (here and here) that spurred several friends to buy their copy and one friend who’d already dived into his, I moved it to the top of my to-read list. Now I wish I’d waited longer.

Perhaps the biggest letdown is being led to believe, even hope, that a deaf person writing about deaf people could actually do it: write a great American novel in which the complexity of the deaf community is finally fairly represented, or, at the very least, portrayed in an innovative manner. Sure, the premise alone is enough to lift those hopes sky-high.

By page six I wanted to throw the book in the trash.

Though usually I have a 100-page rule in which authors have a hundred pages with which to capture my attention, the spelling and grammar errors and typos alone were frustrating enough without the stilted and artificial dialogue style and the unimaginative wording that felt cribbed from a dozen other conspiracy theory novels and stitched together here.

There’s a reason for the editing process that publishing houses use; by choosing the self-publishing route, Egbert did himself and his audience a grave disservice here.

English 101 gripes aside, it does get easier to ignore these mistakes as one keeps reading. Usually that’s a good thing for people who really want to sit back and enjoy a good yarn. Unfortunately, for this reader, who desperately wanted to root for a deaf author, it just made the other weaknesses of the book more glaring.

As a story, the book’s substance is spread thin.

There is zero character development. Each character serves a minute purpose; that one became deaf, that one’s a mom of deaf kids, that one’s an audist, that one’s a clueless politician or militiaman, that one’s money-hungry. Further than that purpose, there’s nothing remarkable about any of the characters.

Egbert fails to dig into the psyche of any of his creations, even with Nathan, one of the apparent protagonists who eventually becomes deaf. The narration of his sudden deafness is filled with cliche and both does nothing to move the story forward and nothing to tell us about who he is as a person. Often, the things they say are only bits of information Egbert wants the reader to know but couldn’t seem to figure out a way to show (hence, the ASL 101 lecture one teacher of the deaf gives her mother-in-law).

Usually, when stories have little in the way of character development, that means the story is found in the plot or theme itself. But here as well, MindField is weak. In the first half or so, terrorists unleash meningitis; martial law ensues and deaf people are interned in camps with cute government-inspired labels. In the latter part, people, laymen and politicians both (including the new president of the US with the interesting surname: Jordan), try and figure out the “right” thing to do with this newly deafened population.

What exposition exists is abbreviated, and either sounds as if it’s cobbled together from tourist brochures of other countries (i.e. when an American embassy is described, baroque architecture is mentioned, but nothing about the character’s impressions of being in that setting) or as if chapters had been cribbed from pre-cold war history textbooks.

There are also entire chapters that do nothing for the story and should have been left out entirely (for example, chapter 40, in which a public relations guy shows the woman in charge of the camps posters used to advertise the camps; she chooses the one she likes and the guy thanks her and she congratulates him on a job well done. The relevance of the chapter is never revealed).

There are continuity mistakes as well; deaf people who want no part of internment camps manage to flee to Canada and Mexico even though the borders to both countries have been closed a few chapters before; entire characters are elaborately introduced and then never appear in the book again, their relevance unexplained. One character is said to call another “doctor” for the first time, when, in fact, he has rarely ever called him anything but.

Perhaps the biggest continuity mistake is dropping the terrorism thread altogether. A small town in Montana is targeted in order to contain the virus that deafens people. But if it’s really a terror attack, why contain it? Furthermore, is any place in America today really insular enough that such a containment is even plausible? That is, after all, what happened to the signing deaf population in Martha’s Vineyard and why the tuberculosis groom was such a newsworthy story earlier this year; Americans today are simply too mobile.

We very briefly meet the terrorists, but their motives are never explained, and the victim-mentality of the terrorized never appears throughout the book. Odd, since in a post 9-11 world, we should have plenty of emotional landscape available for mining.

Instead, the rest of the book attempts a scattered collage of amateur Deaf studies awkwardly meshed with Big Brother-type government infiltrated by evil oralists armed with rifles.

Emotional recognition software, in which people’s feelings can be visually read on their faces, appears repeatedly. But like the questions about the nature of bioterrorism, Egbert’s characters never answer the question of why this software is important. It’s a frustrating scenario of so tantalizingly close, and yet so far.

There is an annoying tendency to focus on the physical and technical descriptions of people and technology. Instead of finding out what a person’s heart is like or what someone else’s first impression might be, we find out he has brown hair and stands 5′10″.

A government official is finally given the budget he wants and lo and behold he receives “a high end MacIntosh, a thirty-inch-wide full color Epson printer, and a top-notch scanner; and camera equipment along with a T-2 high speed Internet connection.” In a novel of Tom Clancy proportions, these descriptions might serve a purpose; without them, the reader cannot hope to understand later developments of plot. But here in MindField, they’re superfluous.

One interesting note is that there is almost zero auditory description throughout the book. This is kind of intriguing, since it was, after all, written by a deaf person. Whether thats an intentional omission or an unconscious oversight, I don’t know, but considering the book is ostensibly geared toward a paradigm shift in the minds of hearing readers, I question the wisdom of that omission. It could even have been fertile ground for a little sensory play in terms of the one character who went deaf later in the story.

Perhaps the best way to read this text is as a philosophical treatise on deafness in the vehicle of fiction. Egbert’s best points come out here: Halley Weber, the government official in charge of education whose daughter is hard of hearing wavers over whether her choice of oral education and cochlear implant (which wasn’t all that successful) is the right one, and further, whether the plan she outlines for the three million newly deaf Americans is appropriate. Though Egbert doesn’t explore that as much as he could have, those portions of the story are easily the strongest.

Unfortunately, instead of turning this into a human suspense novel at this point (which is something the best thriller novels do), Egbert veers toward the conspiracy theory thread, portraying Halley as a helpless brainwashed victim of the corporate powermongers who lead AG Bell.

In fact, this is where the story could have used some focus or some consistent purpose; in the epilogue and in the author’s notes, the overall intent of the book is to purportedly serve as a tipping point (allusion definitely intended - the Gladwell influence is too heavy to miss) through which the hearing world will understand the barriers they have placed in the way of deaf people, who are actually just fine and not deformed, thank you very much.

But instead of continuing this subversive intent through human stories (there is no “always been deaf” character in the story, much to my disappointment), the book ends up a thinly veiled assault on what is sometimes esoterically called “the organization” and, at other times, explicitly named as the AG Bell organization.

A well-written anti-AG Bell narrative would have been interesting to read; this ends up being oversimplified argument against oralism and an unjustified plea that sign language is a “visual symphony” and children deserve it. The term “unjustified” doesn’t mean I disagree — in fact, there were many moments when I almost rooted for the anti-oralist characters downright. It just means Egbert barely glossed over any explanation of why oralism-only is a bad idea and focused his attentions on painting AG Bell and its supporters as evil archetypes.

For a book that’s supposed to spread understanding in the minds of clueless hearing readers, that was a severe misstep. Now they have no reason to understand why oralism-only isn’t always a great idea, and they do have reason to think deaf people, even the ones intelligent enough to write a book, are incapable of making a reasoned or convincing argument.

For deaf readers, that’s just fuel for the divisive fire we find among factions within the deaf community; ironically there is a chapter where a pro-ASL character rails about the inability of the deaf community to represent a united front about what is best for deaf children and people everywhere.

The assault on AG Bell notwithstanding, there’s just too much in this book, not just in terms of deaf studies, but also in terms of continuity and plausibility that undermines its noble intent:

• The explanation of ASL is linguistically questionable,
• the neuroscience theory repeatedly espoused within is also questionable (one character recommends learning ASL underwater to shut out auditory input — because the brain apparently can only focus on one sensory input at a time, learning is facilitated this way. This reasoning is both untrue and inadvertently supports AG Bell/AudioVerbal’s justification for their auditory-only methods.)
• The deaf experience is not realistically portrayed (Egbert encourages “more dramatic lip movements” for easier lipreading, for example. Or take, for instance, the hearing parent who suddenly says he regrets his decision to implant his deaf child. Aside from being a rarity - if such an instance even exists - the hearing parent never fully explains why implants are so horrible. Such a miraculous change of mind deserves some explanation, no?).
• The math doesn’t add up; apparently only three million Americans are deafened, a mere fraction of the number that already exist today. Yet this causes concern about national economy and security, not to mention widespread panic and martial law. The reasons for these anxieties are never fully explained.

In sum, there’s zero complexity, but tons of unnecessary rhetorical flourishes, inconsistency, and bias. Even the evil oralists/audists are not given a chance to show their human depravity; authorial interventions and an inability to show instead of tell prevent this from happening.

Perhaps the greatest irony about this book that is supposed to teach the world that there is no essential difference between deaf and hearing people is that it polarizes the difference even more.

Egbert does make a valiant attempt; this is why I’m saddened by this book more than I’m angry about the waste of my book money. Early in the book, he writes one beautiful line that I think is worth sharing:

Ultimately, the only thing that ensures freedom is unhindered communication.

Funnily enough, that line appears in the midst of a discussion about appropriate government control, and has nothing to do with deaf people. My hopes for the success of this book flared briefly after reading that.

Nevertheless, instead of staying focused on this one concept throughout the book, the story spazzes in many different directions, clearly being influenced by last fall’s Gallaudet protests, and at one point directly referencing them in the present tense, an odd anachronism in a book that’s supposed to be set in 2010.

Egbert, in several places, confuses the difference between deaf and hearing with the same difference between humanity and animal that many hearing people have historically “observed” about deaf people. In this sense, he fails to create a paradigm shift in MindField and instead and just writes a book that says, “Yo, hearing people. Right back at ya.”

The grossest example of this elision comes, again, from Nate, the newly-deafened character, towards the end of the book. As he waxes poetic about how wonderful it is to be deafened, he wonders, “Were the deaf always more intuitive, more compassionate than those who could hear?”

Apparently not.

By Sara Stallard

The Super Duper Speech Company (circa 1989) would like to emphasize ten things which you need to understand about the person who does your speech therapy:

1. It’s not “speech therapist;” it’s “speech-language pathologist.”
2. Your speech-language pathologist is definitely a woman.
3. Your speech-language pathologist hides behind her desk.
4. Your speech-language pathologist has bugged out eyes.
5. Your speech-language pathologist has crazy hair.
6. Your speech-language pathologist writes notes to your parents.
7. Your speech-language pathologist is responsible for your behavior on the school bus.
8. Your speech-language pathologist hoards her trash.
9. Your speech-language pathologist is proud to be a speechaholic.
10. Your speech-language pathologist is a wannabe expert in fine arts restoration.

I have a penchant for collecting visual material of all sorts, and during one of my regular foraying expeditions, I discovered this gem among a bunch of other equally cheerful posters, such as one featuring a magenta brontosaurus imploring us with the entreatment, “Don’t let good speech become extinct.” Hoo boy, what a masterpiece: the Super Duper Speech Company definitely hit on the formula for marketing speech as the pinnacle to attain, the reward at the top of a long arduous winding alpine path, the one so many of us have traveled and given up on.

No effing way… In regard to my supposed admiration of this masterpiece, I’ve been lying through my clenched teeth… The speechaholic poster is one of the strangest things I have ever seen, in the long and illustrious history of all graphic materials ever produced (for those not in the know, I received a few years worth of quality education in graphic design and art history at RIT). Good design means good communication—but just what exactly does the speechaholic poster communicate?

Consider the garish red of the background. How much more aggressive can color get? Also observe the absolute insistence upon authority, in all matters linguistic and vocal—it’s imperative that you understand how “notes” are sent to parents, instead of “requests” or “recommendations.” The intention behind this poster is to establish the boundaries of the speech-language pathologist’s territory—the poster is designed to go up on an office door, and I am sharply reminded of the alley cats who leave their pugnacious spray marks on my front door in their fight over the exclusive right to occupy the porch.

Only a nutcase would believe that this poster could put clients at ease—wait, did I say “clients”? Sorry, I meant “patients.” But then again, in the pathologizing of deaf people, it’s not only “patients” that we are, we’re also invisible subjects, seen nowhere in the speech-language pathologist’s megalomaniac bubble. In this remarkable piece of work, there are no deaf children with chubby cute fingers in the picture, nor gap-toothed stutterers or doe-eyed angels with Down Syndrome (and this is from before political correctness!)—in this picture, the speech-language pathologist exists for herself alone. She’s completely disassociated from those who are supposed to receive the fruits of her benevolence, and the Super Duper Speech Company wants to make this absolutely clear to everybody. The speech-language pathologist is a giant in her own right.

Some kid out there protested this insanity long ago. I applaud the little upstart for his or her truly courageous act of resistance: the little poster-within-the-poster, with the proclamation “I [heart] Speech!?!”, was violated by graffiti. Our unknown hero brandished a pen and did a Zorro on the little poster, making a thin but clear X over the image. This ultimately resulted in number ten on the list above. Our crafty and talented speech-language pathologist used white-out to lovingly restore her poster (along with red marker for the heart—how evocative of grammatical corrections this is!). My, my, this makes for a cute case study of socio-political aesthetics: contemplate the significance of white-out and its potential uses as a creative motif in depicting the myriad approaches of how society deals with deaf people and other deviants. How much does society try to cover up? And how blatant are they about it?

I swear, every time I look at this poster, I snicker. What the heck was the publisher thinking? Is speech therapy really that scary? I don’t remember it being that uncomfortable—I actually enjoyed speech hour. In fact, I won the elementary school award one year, for being “best speech student,” back when I was a gormless second grader, strutting around making clucking sounds in the back of my throat in deep study of the vocal velar plosive, “g.” I’m told it was cute, but they’re lying, aren’t they? It must have been extremely annoying. Anyway, if any of you teachers, designers, scientists, and stuffy bureaucrats in state educational departments out there want to promote speech as a worthwhile and comfortable pursuit to be embraced by the deaf, signing and non-signing alike, Super Duper’s approach is the perfect way to fail. Apparently Super Duper has wised up and discontinued the poster series.

Sara Stallard loves art, books, cats, and urban landscapes. When she’s not reading, writing or challenging her friends to Scrabble, she can be found prowling around DC’s Eastern Market in search of the perfect cup of coffee. She also enjoys dancing and gardening.