I'd like to tell you a story.
When I was 24, I found myself living in a small beach town
by the name of Naples, Florida.
I was looking for something new.
I was 24.
I'm 29 now.
And in that small coastal town, I was the only Deaf resident.
In fact, the closest deaf person was a few hours away by car.
And all of the friends and acquaintances that I had made could hear.
I didn't mind though; I wanted something new.
Lucky for me, Naples, Florida
is home to some of the U.S. Olympics volleyball team,
where they reside and train through the year.
So I had a fantastic opportunity to play with them every day I could.
And we'd hit the court all the time, either indoors or out at the beach;
it was great.
Lucky for them, I happen to be very good at volleyball.
So one night after a great game,
a friend and I pull up some chairs by the water
to watch the sun go down and chat.
And he looks over at me and he asks me a question
that completely blew me away.
To be honest, in 24 years of my life, nobody had ever asked me.
And his question was simple:
"Have you ever wished you could hear?"
I looked at him for a second and thought,
Where did that come from?
Then I took a moment and I realized
while we had been sitting there,
I could see waves coming in and crashing on the beach.
He could hear that.
Obviously, I couldn't.
My entire world is completely silent.
To our left, people had taken over the court
and were playing volleyball, cheering each other on.
To our right, a mother was playing and laughing with her baby.
And behind us,
cars and ATVs had passed by all day without me even noticing.
So, I was quick to answer:
"No, of course not.
I've never wished I could hear.
I've never wished that because I love who I am."
And you may be wondering, How do I love myself as a Deaf man?
Well, first, I was born deaf.
My deafness shaped my childhood,
and it's all I've ever known.
So my perspective on life and my experience of the world
is very different.
My outlook and my life has involved experiences
that many of you have never had to encounter as hearing people.
My culture, something I embody and cherish,
has always been Deaf.
My perspective on life is completely different.
The experiences I've had, something I hold most dear,
have taught me to love myself as a Deaf man.
To illustrate that point,
if I were to walk into a job interview with a panel of hearing peers,
and if I were to approach that meeting wishing that I could hear,
wishing that I could speak like them,
and focusing on that imbalance,
do you think that I would do very well?
Obviously not, right?
Because in the back of my mind I'm focusing on the negative,
therefore creating a negative outcome,
and I'm certain I wouldn't get that job.
But, if instead, I use my difference as an advantage and an asset,
I know that as a Deaf man I have so much to offer their company.
My experiences growing up are much different from theirs.
And knowing that allows me to approach the interview positive.
I can go into that meeting and confidently tell them
how they will benefit from hiring a Deaf man
for a multitude of reasons.
And I can walk out with that job because it's all about mindset.
So I say first and foremost to love yourself.
So as I mentioned, the first reason I love myself is my upbringing.
But many of you may not know that I come from a rather large family.
I have two brothers who are also Deaf
along with my parents,
my grandparents,
and yes, even my great-grandparents as well.
I'm the fourth generation in a beautiful family
with over 25 Deaf members.
Born to Deaf parents who understood the Deaf experience,
they knew exactly how to raise me.
They knew how to provide me with the best opportunities
and to support me.
From day one of my existence, my parents gave me language,
access to education,
and love.
Growing up, my life was perfect.
Imagine, like many of you born to hearing parents,
I never noticed barriers that simply weren't there.
I'm sure many of you felt your life was normal,
the same way that I did.
Coming from a Deaf family, my world, in every way, was a utopia.
When it came time for my parents to enroll me in school,
they already knew that I would go to the Deaf school.
I would learn in an environment that was designed for me.
At that time, all of my peers,
and teachers,
and even the superintendent was Deaf.
So, I was still in my perfect world.
I was in an environment where I could grow and where I could thrive.
And I had no problems; it was perfect for me.
And many people don't believe that, but it's true.
For me, the Deaf community, our world, was the perfect world for me.
And I remember in the summer before fifth grade,
I was ready to go back to school,
and I asked my mom to go to a public school.
She thought I was crazy.
She said, "What?! No!
Public school, it's all hearing kids.
The Deaf school is a perfect fit."
And I said, "No, I want to learn what those students are learning.
I want to see what their classrooms are like.
What are public school teachers like?"
So upon my insistence she enrolled me.
And after two weeks of frustration,
I came home pleading to go back to the Deaf school.
She listened very sympathetically and told me, "Nope, too bad."
I was floored.
She told me I needed to stick it out for a year
because I needed to learn how to interact with my hearing peers,
and that if I gave it a little patience,
I would learn so much about the world around me.
Because the reality is the world is hearing.
I was the only Deaf kid in the entire school.
Of course, I always had hearing friends, but they could sign like me.
So that year I gained a lot of insight.
I couldn't be involved in any of the school organizations.
My friends never learned enough sign to communicate.
And every time I tried to play a sport, I'd get benched.
The basketball coach told me a Deaf kid could never help the team win a game.
And I was athletic.
So after a year, I went back to the Deaf school
where I realized that's my home.
That's my community.
And my community is where I can thrive.
I got involved in the classroom again,
joined a bunch of school organizations,
and got back on the basketball team, where I helped win many games.
So it's without hesitation that I can say the Deaf community is in fact my home.
After graduating high school,
I was accepted into the only Deaf university in the world:
Gallaudet University in Washington, D.C.
It was there I gained my degree in mathematics
with the intention of becoming a better teacher
than the ones I had growing up.
Like many of you, I sat through some math teachers who seriously sucked.
(Laughter)
I wanted to be a good math teacher.
But I also wanted to be a good role model for those students.
So as time got closer to graduation, of course I was nervous.
I started questioning if I had made the right decision.
And I decided to get out -
to get out of my comfort zone and to travel the world.
Since then, I've been to over 43 countries.
And the funny thing about when I travel
is that I'm constantly meeting hearing people who say,
"Nyle, you are so brave. How do you travel like this?
Isn't it hard to be Deaf and travel?
It looks impossible."
And let me tell you, traveling as a Deaf person, I think,
is actually much easier than traveling for hearing people.
Because sign language is something that gives me access
to a much larger world.
I'll tell you one of my favorite stories.
A few years ago, I was in south Sicily perusing a flea market,
when I walked into a butcher shop,
and standing there is an American tourist trying to ask the butcher
where the meat he was slicing is sourced from.
So the Sicilian man, speaking no English, is gesturing, right?
And you know Italians gesture.
He's trying to explain where the meat comes from,
and it's going right over the head of the tourist.
So watching this very comical breakdown in conversation,
I'm understanding everything perfectly,
so I pull out a paper and a pen,
and I translate what the butcher is saying,
and I hand it over to the tourist and explain,
"This is what he's trying to tell you."
So there I am, the Deaf person translating for two hearing people.
And in that situation, they're the ones disabled, not me.
(Laughter)
While that story is ironic,
it happens so many times when I meet people in other countries.
I'm always amazed to meet locals in other countries,
and their ability to gesticulate and communicate with me,
often quite easily.
And I would always tell myself to visit the local Deaf schools
and to make time to meet Deaf locals.
But with every new Deaf school that I saw,
I was sad to see that their schools were in terrible condition,
and their education was greatly lacking.
Often, I just couldn't believe my eyes.
When I would meet Deaf adults, I realized a common thread very quickly.
They either didn't have the same level of education I did
or their language was incomplete, making it hard to communicate.
They'd often complain to me that the system had failed them,
and now they struggled to find work.
And I kept asking myself,
why is this happening, and why is this happening so often?
Why am I somehow more fortunate?
Growing up, I thought every deaf person in the world was like me
and had the same opportunities that I did.
So in returning to the United States,
I decided to do some research on the topic.
And what I found shocked me.
There are currently more than 70 million deaf people in the world
with only two percent of them having access to education in sign languages.
Which means millions upon millions of deaf children
not receiving the education they need,
also known as education deprivation.
I also learned that over 75 percent of hearing parents
don't sign to communicate with their deaf children.
Which is astonishing.
Again, imagine millions and millions of deaf children
without an education, without a language.
Those children without language and access to education
exhibit signs of brain damage.
In my research, I also found
that I'm a part of an even smaller group.
Ten percent of Deaf children come from Deaf parents like mine.
Only 10 percent.
I'm incredibly lucky.
I had access to language, an education,
and I had parents who loved me and put me on a path to success.
I wouldn't be who I am today without any of those things.
So it was clear to me that something needed to be done.
I got to work in setting up my own foundation -
the Nyle DiMarco Foundation -
with the goal of improving the lives
of millions of deaf people around the world.
We've since partnered with another Deaf organization in the United States
to introduce legislation -
a bill that requires all deaf children have access to language
between the ages of zero and five,
setting up benchmarks for their success.
Because before the age of five,
children have the ability to acquire a foundation in language,
readying them for the classroom and for a successful life.
After the age of five, that critical language acquisition window closes.
I'm working to give every deaf child in the world a future
filled with a rich language
and the opportunities I was lucky enough to receive.
But the Deaf community cannot do it alone;
we need you to become our allies
and join us in making the world more knowledgeable.
We need you to join us, to fight with us and for us
in the ongoing battle of affording children what they need to thrive.
So before I go, I want to teach you two very simple but important signs.
The first is "love."
The second, "yourself."
Follow me:
Love
yourself.
Brilliant!
A-plusses all around!
Thank you.
(Laughter)