Yesterday was the beginning of Deaf Awareness Week (in some places, Deaf Awareness Month) in many states, cities, and towns across the country. A week of lectures, events, and opportunities for socialization, there’s usually a big gathering at some point. Here in L.A., this Saturday will culminate in DEAFestival, at Woodley Park in Van Nuys. I understand that DeafNation Expo will come to Gaithersburg on the 24th as well, providing opportunities for those of you in D.C. I know there will be friends in both places– wish I could make a carbon copy of myself so I could be in two locations at once! As it is, I’ll enjoy the Southern California sunshine as I get together with old friends and make new ones.

Why this particular time of year, anyway? What’s so special about the last week of September? It seems that internationally, it’s Deaf World Week, established by the WFD in honor of its first meeting in September, 1951. Consequently, the last full week in September becomes our time to shine. But I’m sure (truthfully, now!) that up until now, the majority of you didn’t know that at all. I certainly didn’t know the reasoning behind the dates.

Don’t kid me; you didn’t read my opening sentence, and suddenly know where I was going: “Ah, I know he’s a historian, so I just *know* he’s going to talk about the history and origins of Deaf Awareness Week/Month. I *bet* he’s going to touch on the WFD and why we celebrate in the fall.”

The fact of the matter is, I doubt most people, hearing or deaf, knew that. Personally, I think it’s a cool tie-in, and for us in the global Deaf community, a very worthy event to commemorate. But here in the United States? Perhaps not.

So, I’d like to make a humble suggestion: here in the States, shift Deaf Awareness Week to another time of year. There already exist a few possible days or weeks here and there. For the WFD, stay with September. For other Deaf communities around the world, I don’t presume to tell them what to do; far be it for me to tell our friends in other nations how to organize their events and festivals.

Some of you may be thinking, “Ah– Clerc and Gallaudet.” Well, yes– December is one possibility, centered around Clerc and Gallaudet Days. It certainly was true in decades past that residential schools, Deaf clubs, organizations, and associations would hold banquets, ceremonies, and gatherings in honor of these two gentlemen. Today, though, the practice has generally fallen by the wayside. But I think December is a bad choice. For one, I’d like these two men to be recognized in their own right. Second, how many people genuinely know the birthdates of these two men? Lastly, it’s the holidays. There’s already enough competition for our time as it is.

This is where a number of you are suddenly saying, “Ah hah…” and a cartoonish lightbulb is going off above your head– and you’d be right. Why not March? A little over fifteen years ago, a cataclysmic event took place right here in D.C., a momentous decision by a governing board that took the town by storm, and then eventually the nation. The doings that followed went far beyond the halls of residential schools, college dorms, Deaf clubs and gatherings, and the pages of Silent News and its brethren. At Gallaudet University, the choice of Elizabeth Zinser as the next president sparked a protest, that soon became a locus for Deaf America. The week that followed was avidly recorded in the press, and many people for the first time became aware of a place called Gallaudet, and a community that previously existed largely in the arts (for example, “Children of a Lesser God” had come out in the theaters not too long before), in articles about mainstreamed classes, or in glimpses here and there of people signing. The Deaf President Now (DPN) movement revolutionized how we perceived ourselves. We can further the legacy by using DPN to change how the rest of the country perceives us.

Now is not the time or place to recount DPN; but it certainly was a focal point for civil rights. Deaf, deaf, and hard-of-hearing people nationwide benefited; at the very least, the exposure sparked a sense of awareness. In other places, it may have prompted much more. But beyond all that, it certainly is a moment in our national memory that most people, deaf and hearing, would recognize and relate to.

Thus I’d like to propose that Deaf Awareness Week be shifted to March 6-13, with the week culminating in a remembrance of DPN. Take the commemorations of DPN beyond gala banquets in D.C., and remind the Deaf, deaf, and hearing communities that not only do we have a vibrant history, a scintillating language, but that we also recognize our battle for equality. Take Deaf Awareness Week beyond the Deaf community: otherwise, we’re just preaching to the choir and the converted.