[Taken from the Facebook video description]

Today, Octavian Robinson shares his story. The video is captioned and we have a transcript below. ⁣
#IWDeaf #WFdeaf #SLeveryone #globaldeafleader #signlangauge #NADDeafCultureHistorySection #DeafCultureHistorySection #NADSection #DeafCultureDeafHistory #DeafCulture #DeafHistory #DeafOrganization #NationalDeafOrganization #DeafAwareness #DeafEducation #DeafTidbits #Deaf #Culture #History #Organization #Section

[Video Description: Tavian Robinson, a white deafdisabled man, signs in front of a black background. He is balding and short-bearded, wearing a grey v-neck t-shirt.]

I identify as DeafDisabled with that identity as one word. How did I come to identify myself with that word, or how did I claim that identity for myself? My relationship with the concept of disability was somewhat roundabout. I grew up Deaf, using ASL, and very engaged in the Deaf community. Through my interactions with the Deaf community, I came to internalize the idea that Deaf people can do anything, but hear.

That Deaf people can do any number of things was a prevalent message that was defined by and embedded in the consciousness of abled Deaf people. This line of thinking and statements to this end shaped attitudes towards DeafBlind and DeafDisabled people. These attitudes of condescension, pity, sympathy, exclusion, disgust, and dissociation, among others was a narrative that intrigued me.

When I became a historian, I began to research that language, the attitudes within, and how that came about. I eventually published a chapter titled “We are of a Different Class.” This chapter looked into the history of how the Deaf community became ableist towards other Deaf, DeafBlind and DeafDisabled people. The year that chapter was published, I became disabled. I was injured and have had chronic pain for the past ten years.

My first response to that disability was one of denial. I would minimize it, brush it aside, or claim I was not disabled disabled. It was not really impacting my life in any major way…yet. Over time, the increasing pain I experienced was increasingly impacting my ability to do everyday things. The energy needed to do various forms of work, to write, to use my arms exacerbated.

The moment I identified myself not as Deaf or Disabled, but as DeafDisabled, the one word, was when my disability itself impacted my ability to sign. I used to be able to sign with such fluidity, comfort, energy, all day and night, with no problems whatsoever. But that was diminishing; I found myself aching, or making modifications to how I signed as to ease the pain. I modified handshapes and how I formed the letters with my hands. That in turn affected how people perceived my clarity in presenting my ideas through signing. This impacted how well people, especially interpreters understood me. The impact ws great enough that I started to wonder if it was impacting my work in which I teach American Sign Language, teach about culture, and I teach using sign language. I use my hands to type and write and as an academic I use American Sign Language to express myself, publish vlogs and blogs, and all of these are what I want to do.

Now I was facing limitations with my body. My body only cooperates to an extent, up to a specific amount of time each day. I was at a loss and I realized that being Deaf and being someone with other disabilities are truly linked, impacting one another.

As a Deaf person, when I request for an interpreter, I am told that I do not need a CDI, the reason being that I am “intelligent” nor not a person with minimal (or limited) language. It is really the opposite; it is the interpreter that needs a CDI, the reason being that I do not always sign with utter clarity nor can I force myself to repeat myself while I am in a lot of pain. I don’t want to do that. I don’t want to fingerspell repeatedly. I don’t want to repeat what I am saying. Elevating my signing into a higher signing
space, when I much rather sign with my arms lowered, to be more clear puts a lot of pain and stress on my body. When the interpreter does not understand me, it is I that am identified as the problem. When a CDI is present, I am free to sign in any way that is comfortable and I am understood. With an hearing interpreter, that is not always the case.

When these seemingly small situations add up, it is when I realize that my being Deaf is affected by my being disabled. I cannot separate one identity from the other, nor can I separate one type of experience from the other.

In addition, the Deaf community’s ableist messages about what Deaf people can or can’t do and attitudes about disability in general is rife with stigma. There is a lot that is not yet fully understood, and a lot of conversations that have not yet happened.

Regarding my relationships with the disability community and the Deaf community, it is the Deaf world that I’ve been a part of my whole life—the community, language, interaction, but when my disability comes into the picture, this relationship stumbles. There is a sense of contradiction with what I know, what I believe and what we know and what we believe.

Conversely, in the Disability community, I’ve connected with and learned a lot from brilliant individuals and gained many tips that have helped me navigate and figure things out with my other disabilities, of which I have several.

All that relates to the Disability community. But there is the issue of communication. There is not an ease of connection through ASL that creates a deep understanding of one another and how my other disabilities impact my ability to communicate, my ability to sign and my ability to work. I feel a sense of faltering of not feeling fully connected with either communities. But the radical Disability advocacy and justice community have been amazing: warm, welcoming, and inclusive. I feel able to interact and engage with them but I wish we had a shared language, ASL or greater communication ease.