So, there’s been a lot of discussion around deaf representation recently. There have been vlogs, chat shows, petitions and campaigns.
Not long ago, I wrote about the problem of cultural appropriation of BSL, and deaf culture. There are endless articles and videos to be found online, all focusing on the issue of deaf representation in film, television and theatre.
Deaf representation in the arts matters. Hugely. We’ve been talking about it for years, and we can’t stop yet because it’s still not equal.
But, with all this going on, I’ve been thinking…
Why aren’t we talking with the same ferocity about deaf representation in real life?
Of course we need to have accurate, interesting and fair representation of deaf characters and stories in the media.
Anyone watching the majority of deaf characters currently on mainstream television would be forgiven for thinking deaf people never drink, have sex or swear – we just sit around lip-reading CCTV and feeling bass beats with our feet.
So, yes, let’s continue with the fight there. It’s important. But it takes a lot of energy, and maybe that’s why we aren’t fighting as hard for our everyday representation.
Some examples, to show you what I mean…
I have recently had to change my broadband provider. This is because the company I was with gave up their online chat service during lockdown.
When my internet failed, I had no other way of contacting them, because the interpreting services I would use to phone them all rely on an internet connection. Cue massive stress (and proof that deaf people do in fact swear a lot). It was hellish.
All because I don’t have the capacity to phone up; I was told no less than 8 times in two hours to ‘phone this number’. If I wasn’t deaf, the issue would have been solved in minutes. As it was, it took nearly a week.
Looking for a new provider, I didn’t find any that seem to be much better. Nobody is considering deaf access. Nobody is thinking, ‘Actually, live chat is great for people who can’t phone easily’. They’re just thinking, ‘We can cut some money here, get rid of it.’
I’ve had the same issue with the bank. Trying to contact the bank is a nightmare, because of security protocols. But after four hours of more stress than I care to remember (and more swears than I thought I knew), suddenly all their ‘strict security’ needed was for me to ‘make a noise’. I kid you not. Even now in 2021, their security system means they can’t talk to anyone on my behalf unless I growl like a dog to prove I am there too.
‘Make a noise’?
I’m not a @#*/ing vacuum cleaner. That’s almost the dictionary definition of dehumanising.
And I’m not alone. Most deaf people I know have had the ‘make a noise’ nonsense. Only last week, I saw a friend posting on Twitter that their audiology services had repeatedly asked them to phone in.
I saw a vlog filmed by someone who had been trying to talk to their energy provider, but was being told they ‘should be able to phone’, despite several explanations as to why they couldn’t. Someone else had been left £75 worse off, because in order to return an online purchase they were told they needed to phone up for a code.
What is this? Has it become worse because of lockdown? WHY? I thought the world was becoming more accessible, more accommodating, but it seems to be going backwards. Deaf access isn’t anybody’s priority anymore.
But I don’t know how to reverse it. I don’t know how to stand up, to represent my community and what we need – other than to keep going through the energy-draining stress of changing to another company/provider/service, when chances are they will be just as rubbish. It’s exhausting.
Maybe we need to come together and create a list of deaf-friendly companies and services. Would that help? Possibly. But what if the only truly deaf-friendly audiology is 150 miles from you? Would you want to travel that far? Unlikely.
Somehow we need to put the pressure back on. We have a legal right to access that doesn’t involve ‘well, can’t you just download an app?” But we forget about it, and struggle on, because we’re so tired of being ignored. Or just so tired, generally.
Never mind on screen, it’s the deaf representation in my own life that I want to improve.
Emily Howlett is a profoundly Deaf actress, writer and teacher. She makes an awful lot of tea. And mess. She now has not one, but four grey eyebrow hairs. C’est la vie. She tweets as @ehowlett
Posted on April 30, 2021 by Editor