My love of the arts is a one-way affair. As much as I want to go to every talk or show that I find interesting, my deafness is a barrier. I envy the freedom others have in having the world at their disposal. Too much work – and related stress – is involved before I can even relax and enjoy the event.
The first step is finding out whether the event has captioning. If it doesn’t, I have to figure out who to contact to issue a request. Seating is a whole other issue. One of my pet peeves is having to pay more money to sit closer to the stage when it is a necessity due to my disability. This isn’t the case in select cities, but Pittsburgh isn’t one of them (yet!).
A recent experience I had is a perfect example of a painful accessibility journey.
When I found out there was a speaker coming to town, I reached out to the organization sponsoring the visit to ask if it would be possible to get real-time captioning (CART) and sit up close. The response I received was, “We can arrange for an interpreter to be present and ensure it is added to our marketing materials. Thank you for advocating for you and others.”
Nope. That wasn’t the accommodation I requested. People with disabilities know their needs best.
I replied, repeating my request for CART. Someone else responded and said they were waiting on confirmation for a captioner. A week later, I received that confirmation, so I got a ticket for myself and a friend – thankfully there were still seats left!
As there were no assigned seats, I asked again about two being reserved up front. Despite the initial offer to reserve seats, I was told there would not be any but there would be a section close to the screen for people with hearing loss. “So, you may want to get there a little bit early.” Let me spell this out for you – the onus was being placed on me.
I again asked if two seats could be reserved and was told since the event was open seating, this would not be possible. They would ensure that appropriate signs would designate the reserved seats.
I explained that general reservation signage often doesn’t work since people assume they qualify or are willing to bluff for a closer seat. At similar open seating events, this has been solved by putting my name on a pair of seats. Given that I requested CART, the accommodation includes seating by the screen. Just CART isn’t enough.
Staffing and plans for seating were clearly a bit disorganized, so I was told they would find out more after the team met. They also said, “Given that there was not an option when booking tickets for everyone who does have hearing needs to identify themselves, we have a challenge of how to hold seats for only two people and accommodating other people who need accessibility.”
Grr.
Then karma bit them in the ass. The event had to be rescheduled.
That gave me plenty of time to stew on the last email. I messaged my dad, who is a disability rights attorney, to ask what he made of it. “I feel like people who need accommodations generally speak up,” I wrote. “And because I did, I shouldn’t be penalized. Also, they could cordon off a general area by the screen and then release seats if needed to the general population if they aren’t taken.”
My favorite legal expert replied, “Their response is essentially saying that since they didn’t initially comply with the law, that somehow justifies continuing to ignore the law. Strange argument.” He also agreed with my solution, saying it was the best under the circumstances and addressed their supposed concerns.
Last week, I sent a follow up/reminder to save two seats for me up front if possible. This was also my way of making sure they remembered to reschedule the captioner for the new date. I was told there would be a set of seats off to the right side of the room closer to the screen. No mention of a specific reservation with my name. Instead, I was again told to get there on the earlier side.
Naturally, leading up to the event, I was stressed and nervous. Doors weren’t slated to open until half an hour before. I planned to get there early, but didn’t want to have to show up hours early just to ensure the seats I needed. I practiced a spiel in case those seats were taken. Something along the lines of, “Hi, I’m deaf and requested the captioning but seats weren’t saved for me. Would you mind moving somewhere else? I would really appreciate it!” I figured I could flag a staff person if necessary. I had no idea what to expect, which added to my anxiety.
Well, guess what? It was all for naught. We showed up before the doors were supposed to open, but they already were – with plenty of people inside. And…there was an area in front of the screen with pieces of paper on each seat marking them as reserved. No one was sitting there, and one had my name on it!
While I was relieved, I was annoyed with all the back and forth emails, uncertainty, and seemingly ever-changing plan. Venues that get this right either make things happen automatically during ticket purchase or resolve things with a quick email exchange.
I did like that the caption screen was a large TV with a font large enough for others to read even if not sitting where I was. Even though I was off to the side, I was able to mostly lipread the conversation. The captioning was essential for the introductory speaker, Q&As from the audience, and supplemented what I missed. I would have been lost without it.
But look at all the work I had to do to get there!
A few years ago, I organized two large lectures at a university. Real time captioning was planned and large displays were placed in two locations in the room. At the end of the lectures I asked the audience to raise their hands if they used the real time captioning. About half the audience had used it. RTC is not just for people who are deaf. This year, I attended a major lecture organized by a not for profit that was a conversation between two people on stage, one of whom had a thick Irish accent. The event was booked up so I elected to participate remotely. All my friends went in person. Every one of them said that it was impossible to follow the conversation on stage. But the remote access had better sound, and I could turn on RTC to help further. Everyone benefits from RTC! The return on investment is very high!
1000%!!!