Deaf ideology | Marika Kovacs-Houlihan | TEDxUWMilwaukee

Pathological ideology is an imposed view, stemming from values and beliefs, which place high value on speaking and hearing. Hence, the pervasive definition that “deaf” is a condition, a deficiency, which creates a language delay, has become a fiber of our society. We need to challenge people to “react differently” when encountering the ideology of what it means to be deaf. Deaf people are a cultural-linguistic community and when they are allowed to create their own ideology in their natural environment, they can, in return, be celebrated for their contributions to society.

Marika is a clinical assistant professor at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee in the American Sign Language Department. She brings passion to all facets of her life.

This talk was given at a TEDx event using the TED conference format but independently organized by a local community. Learn more at http://ted.com/tedx

(Offstage voice) ASL interpreter:
The term "deaf" evokes a response.

I'm on stage, I'm giving my talk
in American Sign Language.

That may not be what you expected.

You may be wondering
if I can hear, if I will speak.

You may be trying to figure out
where the interpreter is.

Your thoughts and questions
are derived from your ideology.

We have been socialized to think
that everyone we encounter will speak.

That's a very phonocentric point of view.

And I'm here to tell you
that this ideology is limited.

I know firsthand just how limited
people can be in their understanding.

It's often disorienting for people
to meet me for the first time

because I use my first language
when I communicate.

I'm in the bank and I meet
"deer in headlights."

It doesn't really help me.

Or it could be at
the customer service desk

trying to figure out what my concern is,

and I'm met with, "Hey! I don't know
what to do with this lady.

Can someone come help me?"

As if I'm the one with the problem.

Or, on occasion, my family goes
to a restaurant and I'm ordering my food

and I get the "doesn't know the difference
between deaf and blind",

who hands me a braille menu.

(Laughter)

That happens!

So, as I mentioned,
the ideology is limited,

and in our society
we have created a narrative

that has stigmatized deaf people.

Assumptions are made
that a deaf person may be isolated,

uneducated, or without language.

And that narrative is so ingrained,

it's in our social media,
it's in the articles you read,

the things that you see,
and it's even reached the CDC.

If you go to the CDC website
and search "deaf",

it's there listed as a condition
along with every other disease.

Think about that,
the Center for Disease Control.

A disease!

Can I ask you, do I look diseased to you?

This value system has strongly impacted
how people view me.

The phonocentric value
that someone must speak and hear

has been equated with intelligence.

And when a person does not speak or hear
they are viewed as inferior.

They receive a lower status
in our society.

Our value systems are just
at odds with one another.

The value of speaking
and hearing is one thing,

but on the other hand,
you look at the deaf community,

and our value is on
American Sign Language.

The research has been done.

Our language is bona fide

and there's a cultural community
that is supported by it.

People in this community develop
their identity from the use of ASL.

Now, identity and identification
are two separate things.

Identification is something
that comes from an outsider.

In our society deaf has been
conflated with disability,

so we endure these terms of handicap,
hearing impaired, and disabled.

I remember I was on a business trip
and I was on my layover.

I was trying to catch my connecting flight

and I had a suitcase
with a defective wheel,

so I'm really booking it,
struggling with this damn suitcase,

and I finally get to the gate and one
of the airline agents comes up to me

and tells me that I can't bring
my bag onto the plane

because it's so small,
so I have to stow the baggage.

So we ticket the baggage
and my bag is stowed.

I take flight, and after we land
I'm getting off the airplane

and I see an airline agent with a sign
with my name on it,

and she's standing behind a wheelchair.

So I stand back, I'm waiting
for my luggage anyway,

I'm just observing what's happening,

and there are lines
of people passing her by.

So I'm done watching her
because my bag has arrived,

but then I remember my defective wheel.

So I go to the woman and she starts
to get the wheelchair ready for me,

but instead, I take my suitcase and say,

"Oh, I'm so glad you have a wheelchair
for my disabled bag."

(Laughter)

(Applause)

So let's talk about that.

Who determined that I'm disabled?

Oftentimes in our society
we look to the experts,

those people who are
academics and scholars.

I would say that the group of people

who have been making decisions
up until this point are specialists,

and specialists do not possess
cultural and language competency.

Instead, can't we look
for those scholars and academics

who have the life experience
as a deaf person?

They know how a deaf person
experiences this life.

So let me ask you
who you think the experts are.

I think it's pretty clear.

I want to make that distinction
between experts and specialists

because these people have impacted
the educational system of deaf children.

I have several experiences from my time
when I navigated this broken system.

In elementary school
I was placed in a program,

and I remember coming into the classroom
and I saw another girl who was deaf.

So naturally I started signing with her,
and I was approached by the teacher

who very quickly pulled
me out to the hallway

and asked me to put my hands out.

She took a ruler and slapped my hands
to discourage me from using my language,

and it was the first of many times
that my identity was suppressed.

Later in middle school,

just like any other teenager
I wanted to be with my friends

and you have lots of conversations
with your friends,

whether that be in the classroom or not,

but oftentimes I was pulled away
from my peers to be in speech training.

This was an exercise in futility.

I wanted to be with my friends,
I wanted that collective experience,

and that was just another point
where my identity was suppressed.

Later in high school I remember
I was approaching graduation,

and I was looking to the future
thinking about what I was going to do.

I had this grand vision
that I'd become a flight attendant.

I really did want to become
a flight attendant,

the reason being my dad
was a world traveler,

and I really wanted to have
those same kinds of experiences,

and I thought, "Hey, if I can travel
the world and get paid for it,

that's the job for me."

So I go into a meeting
with my high school guidance counselor,

and we're having this conversation
about what I'm going to do in the future.

I tell her I'm going
to be a flight attendant,

and she says, "Oh, Marika,
don't be silly, that's impossible.

Honey, you're deaf!

You'll never be able to hear
what they're saying on the airline.

I think I have a better job for you,
you should become an accountant,

you like numbers right?"

Well, that was true, I did like numbers,
but it wasn't my true passion.

So it was again a time
where I felt my identity slipping away.

I could have let that system

and those oppressive experiences
determine my future,

but luckily I had my parents
there along the way

supporting me and helping me
figure my way through it all.

I didn't have the
cultural-linguistic experts

that would have helped me
navigate that system,

but I had my parents.

There are 2,300 deaf
and hard of hearing students

who are placed in the public school
system in our state.

And not all of those students
are in a classroom

that's designed
to optimize their education,

because this educational system
has been designed by these specialists.

Let's just imagine what would
those classrooms look like

if the cultural-linguistic experts
were the ones designing them.

The classroom would be optimized
for the deaf child.

But guess what? Every other child
in that classroom would be benefiting.

They would be benefiting
from using a visual language.

All children would benefit
from having that perspective available

in the design of the classroom.

All children would gain something.

And when I say gain
I don't mean economic gain,

there's a big difference here.

The gains that have been made
from exploiting deaf people

by medical advancements
and the profits that people have made,

that's not the kind of gain
I'm talking about.

I'm talking about deaf gain.

Dr. Dirksen Bauman and Joseph Murray

wrote a book about deaf gain.

They have defined this thinking

as a way of looking at the world
in a different way,

and understanding and valuing
a deaf perspective and their expertise.

The skills that a deaf person has

can be used to contribute to society.

Here at UWM we have an American
Sign Language studies program.

When that program was beginning and just
in its budding phase, I joined the staff,

and today this program
has grown exponentially.

There are over 500 students
that enroll every semester.

And the reason that has happened

is because I have contributed
my expertise as a deaf person,

in being able to design a classroom

and design a program
that can help students,

and everyone is able to benefit.

The university has gained something
by us being on this campus.

Deaf people are
on this earth for a reason.

We are part of human biodiversity,

and if you're familiar with evolution

you know that occasionally there are
species that will cease to exist.

Deaf people have been on this earth
for thousands and thousands of years,

we're still here.

We have endured
many attempts to eradicate us.

And no matter what people
have tried, we are still here.

And I believe it's for a specific reason.

We are here and we are human
just like you.

We have human experiences
just like everyone else.

Set aside the physiological function
of hearing and speaking,

and you will see that.

And what I mean about being human,
it's what we all experience:

life, joy,

tears, inspiration,

heartbreak, death, and birth.

That is what makes us who we are.

I remember when I was pregnant
with my daughter who is my third born,

it was the middle of the night
and I woke up to my water breaking.

I quickly woke my husband, and said,
"Honey, it's time, we got to get ready."

So that's what we did,

we got in the car and got ourselves
on the way to the hospital.

When we got in the car and started off,

I realized I had reached
the point of no return.

My husband is still driving
and he's checking in on me,

and I said, "Honey, I'm sorry."

Because he was still driving and in
my next contraction my baby was born.

(Laughter)

So he's driving, I'm delivering the baby,
I've got her in my arms,

she's crying so I tell him,
"She's fine, I'm fine,

just get us to the hospital!"

So that's what we do.

He's driving fast and furious and caught
the attention of a police officer.

Now we're in a high-speed chase,
we're getting close to the hospital

and when we get there, there are three
or four other squad cars waiting for us.

I'm still in the car waiting to see
what's going to happen.

My husband jumps out of the car
and comes around to the side,

and once the officers saw that I had
the baby in my arms they backed off.

They did what they had to do,

they got the stretcher
and I was brought into the hospital,

and they were trying to take
my husband in another direction

until they realized
he needed to be with me.

We got into the hospital
and up to the birth center.

I still remember clearly the moment
when those doors opened.

The nurses were running
thinking I was going to be laboring

and instead saw me holding the baby,

so they bring me to the room
and had to shift gears very quickly.

So they were checking on the baby,
checking on me, taking care of both of us.

And we were all there
together in that moment.

Then the nurse looked and realized
that my husband and I were deaf,

and the connection we had been
experiencing was severed completely.

We both became very stressed,

her stress was around
trying to find an interpreter,

and my stress was around the fact
that we had just lost that connection.

So right now in this moment

I want you to think
about your thoughts, your feelings.

We're all connected through this story.

You're seeing me as I see deaf people.

I hope that your ideology
has been expanded to include

the definition of deaf people to be
a cultural-linguistic group of people.

I want you to remember this
as you leave today,

and react differently.

Thank you.

(Applause)