Deaf in a Pandemic
Waiting in line at Costco, in Eugene, OR., University of Oregon American Sign Language Professor Valentino Vasquez, 54, looks the same as any other average adult going grocery shopping. Accompanied by his wife, Robyn, the two are patiently waiting for their turn to enter, due to COVID-19 guidelines setting a capacity limit.
However, both Vasquez and his wife are profoundly Deaf, and have been their whole life. Vasquez is used to navigating the hearing world, but COVID has added new challenges; this is primarily due to mouth-covering masks being required.
As Vasquez and his wife were waiting, he happened to see the car of his daughter, Shoshana, in the parking lot. He was hoping he might run into her once it was his turn to enter the store, when he saw her come walking out.
“My daughter came walking out, and she immediately signed to me that two people near me were talking to each other and trying to include me in the conversation,” Vasquez says, using sign language and an interpreter. “They were trying to involve me in the conversation, but I didn’t know. With the masks, I can’t see the mouth movement.”
According to a study from Gallaudet University , about 600,000 people in the United States are considered Deaf. This equals about .22% of the population. While this number is small, the Deaf community is nonetheless an important group, with valid added struggles during COVID-19. As of 2016, 250,000-500,000 Americans use American Sign Language . This small number is telling of the communication barriers members of the Deaf community face, regardless of COVID. However, COVID has added more communication obstacles.
Krista Gallagher, an Operations and Policy Analyst and Deaf Specialist at the Oregon Deaf and Hard of Hearing Services program, says that mouth-covering masks are the most significant challenge for Deaf people during the pandemic.
“Being cut off from most communication access while in public spaces like grocery stores, not being able to easily ask questions such as where to find an item and not being able to read their lips,” Gallagher says. “For daily activities, such as going into places of business when necessary, communication has been more challenging.”
Chad Catron is another ASL professor at UO. Catron was also born profoundly Deaf, and he, too, has noted struggles of masks being required in public places.
“It’s hard to see a person trying to communicate with me, because their lips are not shown because of the masks,” Catron says. “You can’t tell if their lips are moving, so I’m not sure if they’re trying to talk to me or communicate with me. When I go into the store, I try to show that I use hand gestures. I just try to limit my interactions with other people.”
Michelle Villa, a UO senior, is president of the ASL club at UO. While Villa is not Deaf, she says she empathizes with the Deaf community during this time, especially in relation to the communication barrier presented wearing face-masks. Villa says that she tries to wear the plastic masks that show one’s lips, but even those masks fog up and make it difficult to see clear mouth movement.
However, mask wearing is only one inconvenience of the “new-normal.” Villa says that up until recently, she has noticed a lack of interpreters for news reports.
As of Nov. 11, sign language interpreters are now required to be present in COVID briefings, and visible on the live feed from the White House. While this requirement is a step in the right direction for inclusivity for the Deaf community, Vasquez says that he still struggles with understanding the news regarding COVID.
“The news was just so confusing,” Vasquez says. “Deaf people were contacting their doctors, and getting the correct information was hard.”
Catron agrees.
“I wish the hearing community would include more interpreters for all emergency news and breaking news,” Catron says. “I need to know what’s going on. The Deaf community tends to be small, and everybody comes together. Now with COVID, we can’t.”
Catron says that the Deaf community bests interacts in person. Finding ways to come together while adhering by social distancing guidelines is difficult. Similarly, teaching students ASL virtually is challenging for Catron.
“Sometimes it's hard to communicate with Zoom and show the full signs and facial expressions and body movements with your hands and everything,” Catron says. “The best way to learn ASL is in the classroom. It’s easier for me to teach, and it’s easier for the students to learn and receive the signs.”
Brenna Robinson, 27, is a sign-language interpreter living in the south side of Chicago. Robinson has about 60 students, ranging from ages 3 to 15. She attends their classes, and interprets what the teacher is saying. Her students are currently doing remote learning over Google Meets, and she says that this has caused new challenges.
“You can’t pin the teacher and the interpreter at the same time, which is an issue because if there are 40 screens, I can’t position myself with the teacher on the screen,” Robinson says. “That’s been a big issue. The kids can’t see us both.”
Robinson also says that it is difficult to get kids’ attention over a screen.
“We can’t yell their name, or tell them to look at the screen, like in a hearing class,” Robinson says. “If you’re trying to get a Deaf person’s attention, you tap them, and you can’t do that remote. Sometimes I’ll wave a neon color on the camera, but other times you just have to give up.”
Similarly to Catron and Vasquez, Robinson says that sign language is not the same with mask wearing. She says that the first time she experienced signing in person with a mask, it was harder for the Deaf person to understand what she was saying with her mask covering her facial expressions.
Despite these challenges, these members of the Deaf community have tried their best to adapt.
In fact, Gallagher says she thinks the hearing community can learn from the Deaf community and broader Disability community during this time. She says that this community has always have to live in an adaptive way, and be resilient in face of barriers.
“While this pandemic has been very difficult for everybody, I think the hearing and able bodied communities could learn a lot from those of us in the Disability community on how to think outside of the box, and what it really means to ensure full accessibility for all,” Gallagher says. “Not just during a time of crisis, but moving forward.”
Gallagher says that prior to COVID, many people with disabilities were unable to work certain jobs that they were qualified for because they were unable to work in person. Gallagher says that COVID has proved that many jobs are possible to be done remotely, and she says she hopes that even after the pandemic is over, there will be more accessibility for the Deaf and Disability community.
In the meantime, Vasquez– and other members of the Deaf community– are doing their best to adapt to the current situation.
Vasquez says that right now, the Deaf Community is sticking together. It is harder for the Deaf Community to interact while following social distancing guidelines because of the way they communicate, but Vasquez says that members continue to advocate for one another.
His main challenge is the weekly grocery store runs, where there is an awkward communication barrier.
“It’s like food at the checkout, when the sales associate will be looking at the food, and have no eye contact with me,” Vasquez says. “She may have a question, and I am not sure if she’s talking to me, or making a comment about the food, or what. Sometimes I’ll get out my phone and type to her ‘Are you talking to me?’”
Vasquez has adapted new practices, like typing in his phone at the grocery store line rather than mouthing and expressing words without a mask, to adjust to this new-normal. He is gaining familiarity dealing with experiences like the time at Costco.
“I remembered that my daughter heard the conversation, and told me that one of the people said, ‘What were they doing with their hands? I thought he could hear our conversation,’” Vasquez says. “Then the other person said, ‘I think they are using sign language because they are hearing-impaired.’”
This story was written for a reporting class at the University of Oregon.