A New Challenge
By Rhianon Elan Gutierrez
December 27, 2011
I am going to challenge myself to do something different.
I must listen and observe harder. Engage. Move. Apply creativity in a way that is transformational.
Lately, I've been reading articles that talk about "creating your own job." The prospect is both exciting and terrifying. I have seven jobs - all freelance. They relate to film, language, deaf and hard of hearing issues, advocacy, and writing. In all of them, my job is to connect people.
I'm a connector.
To be the best connector that I can be, I must be open to new experiences that deepen my understanding and application of art, pedagogy, and community. Bring on the challenge!
27 December 2011
14 December 2011
The Power of Ed Roberts
© Rhianon Elan Gutierrez
Originally published for the Hearing Loss Association of California
December 14, 2011
Why should young people care about Ed Roberts?
First of all, do you even know who he is? You probably have a neighbor named Ed Roberts. Even if you do not, I don't need to wonder why you have never heard his name before.
Two years ago, I gave a presentation in several college classrooms that included a slide of three images set next to one another: Martin Luther King Jr, Harvey Milk, and Ed Roberts. I asked them to name the people in the images. I think only one person recognized Ed Roberts. One.
Ed Roberts was a disability rights activist. He went to UC Berkeley and helped launch the Physically Disabled Students Program run by students with disabilities. He changed the way that architecture could be accessed by people with disabilities. He was a pioneer in the independent living movement. He served on various boards, was a vital part of the emergence of the Center for Independent Living, and co-founded the World Institute on Disability. He did this all before the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA)...because he spoke up. And he didn't do it alone. His actions were part of a nationwide movement that affirmed the dignity and potential of all people with disabilities to make their own decisions about the lives they wanted to live.
Why should students know about Ed Roberts? The same reason why you should know about Rosa Parks and Susan B. Anthony. They represent movements. Minority groups. You.
In the past year, the newly redesigned Ed Roberts Campus in Berkeley opened. It's a model of universal design - design that is accessible for all. Ed, who died in 1995, would have liked that.
The California Museum recently inducted him into their Hall of Fame.
But is he in your textbooks? On the walls of your classroom? A part of the curriculum? In classroom discussions? If he isn't, he should be - along with countless others who were a vital part of the disability rights movement before and after the ADA, including Justin Dart Jr, Laura Hershey, Paul Longmore, Harriet McBryde Johnson, Leroy Moore, and Kate Gainer. As a young person, you have the power to organize in your hands. You can demand to have disability history in the curriculum. Justin Dart Jr once said "Get into empowerment." Go for it!
The Narrative as Liberation
The Narrative as Liberation
© Rhianon Elan Gutierrez
December 14, 2011
I am a storyteller. Narrative is an essential part of my filmmaking, writing, and activism. Part of being a good storyteller is being a good listener and observer. You have to transform that which you've witnessed or experienced into something that is tangible for an audience to experience. If you write about social issues, you must be aware of what's happening in the world. You have to have a goal as to what you'll read, watch, and absorb each day. It's a big world with a lot of information. You have to know how to take it in and transform it into something that engages people. You have to know your audience. The words, images, and actions you choose are dependent upon who is experiencing your story.
This past weekend, I attended a theatrical performance by The Global Theatre Project entitled Especially Now: Create the World Together. Italian and American actors performed the play A Stubborn Woman about slain journalist Anna Politkovskaya. The horror of the events in Chechnya that she reported was manifested in mise en scene that consisted of shades of grey, slivers of newspapers, three perfect wooden chairs, and six wine glasses. The actors used all of these to convey imprisonment, grief, abuse, and death. Their careful movements were paradoxical to the almost volcanic-like stage. The sound of wailing permeated the cold atmosphere. Tension built as the actors whistled and circled their fingers around the rim of their wine glasses to produce this wailing sound. Shades of red, orange, and yellow light appeared, but the landscape was mostly a chilly blue and grey. The three narrators delivered powerful poetic monologues in English and Italian. By the end, I had not processed all the words, but the images remained with me.
James Cromwell (Babe, LA Confidential) was one of the audience members. He raised his hand after the performance and shared various insights - one that struck me in particular: "The thing has been to kill the speaker of the truth to kill the truth. In the theatre, narrative is a dangerous thing." These were not his exact words, but they're pretty close. Anna was reporting real stories that exposed human rights violations in Chechnya. She was giving a voice to the oppressed. By sharing her story, the creators and performers are affirming that her work cannot be silenced even in death.
We have an epidemic in the United States. We feel that we are powerless whether we are in the heart of a crisis or far away from it. Despite having many tools, we don't know how to use them well. In a panel discussion following the play, Kalaya'an Mendoza, a field organizer for Amnesty International, stated: "We are constantly underestimating our power as citizens." He argued that we should find ways to speak up - from using theatre as a tool for transformation to writing letters and calling legislators. His most powerful assertion, however, was that it was the story of a real person experiencing real human rights violations that convinced people in positions of power to stop the atrocities that were being committed. The voices of active and concerned citizens put a human face on a statistic and a crime. The victims were freed when their stories were told and, once freed, they continued to share them to help others. It was the use of narrative that empowered these citizens and created change in their communities.
Each of us is capable of sharing our narrative, but who will listen? That's where it becomes difficult. People do not always want to hear the truth, especially a truth that devastates with its unflinching brutality. We wonder, how can human beings really be like this? We have to be brave to both tell a story and listen to it.
I believe that it takes time. Telling a story first requires patience on the part of the storyteller that the story may not be complete or what it has been dreamt up to be. This is why storytellers need an audience - not to validate their work, but to serve as figures who listen and offer support. It is the audience who will help storytellers grow. They'll make them feel angry, happy, frustrated, and relieved. The beauty of narrative is the ability to connect with another person in the deepest of human ways - sharing. When a person tells a story, s/he is setting it free. It's out in the world to be experienced.
© Rhianon Elan Gutierrez
December 14, 2011
I am a storyteller. Narrative is an essential part of my filmmaking, writing, and activism. Part of being a good storyteller is being a good listener and observer. You have to transform that which you've witnessed or experienced into something that is tangible for an audience to experience. If you write about social issues, you must be aware of what's happening in the world. You have to have a goal as to what you'll read, watch, and absorb each day. It's a big world with a lot of information. You have to know how to take it in and transform it into something that engages people. You have to know your audience. The words, images, and actions you choose are dependent upon who is experiencing your story.
 |
| Bad cop, innocent citizen. Directing an interactive theatre workshop at the SilverLake Jubilee utilizing Augusto Boal's Theatre of the Oppressed methodology in honor of Voices from Chornobyl's show at the Hollywood Fringe Fest. Photo by Cindy Marie Jenkins. |
This past weekend, I attended a theatrical performance by The Global Theatre Project entitled Especially Now: Create the World Together. Italian and American actors performed the play A Stubborn Woman about slain journalist Anna Politkovskaya. The horror of the events in Chechnya that she reported was manifested in mise en scene that consisted of shades of grey, slivers of newspapers, three perfect wooden chairs, and six wine glasses. The actors used all of these to convey imprisonment, grief, abuse, and death. Their careful movements were paradoxical to the almost volcanic-like stage. The sound of wailing permeated the cold atmosphere. Tension built as the actors whistled and circled their fingers around the rim of their wine glasses to produce this wailing sound. Shades of red, orange, and yellow light appeared, but the landscape was mostly a chilly blue and grey. The three narrators delivered powerful poetic monologues in English and Italian. By the end, I had not processed all the words, but the images remained with me.
 |
| The cleaned up stage for Especially Now: Create the World Together at the Los Angeles Theatre Center. Photo by Rhianon Elan Gutierrez. |
James Cromwell (Babe, LA Confidential) was one of the audience members. He raised his hand after the performance and shared various insights - one that struck me in particular: "The thing has been to kill the speaker of the truth to kill the truth. In the theatre, narrative is a dangerous thing." These were not his exact words, but they're pretty close. Anna was reporting real stories that exposed human rights violations in Chechnya. She was giving a voice to the oppressed. By sharing her story, the creators and performers are affirming that her work cannot be silenced even in death.
We have an epidemic in the United States. We feel that we are powerless whether we are in the heart of a crisis or far away from it. Despite having many tools, we don't know how to use them well. In a panel discussion following the play, Kalaya'an Mendoza, a field organizer for Amnesty International, stated: "We are constantly underestimating our power as citizens." He argued that we should find ways to speak up - from using theatre as a tool for transformation to writing letters and calling legislators. His most powerful assertion, however, was that it was the story of a real person experiencing real human rights violations that convinced people in positions of power to stop the atrocities that were being committed. The voices of active and concerned citizens put a human face on a statistic and a crime. The victims were freed when their stories were told and, once freed, they continued to share them to help others. It was the use of narrative that empowered these citizens and created change in their communities.
Each of us is capable of sharing our narrative, but who will listen? That's where it becomes difficult. People do not always want to hear the truth, especially a truth that devastates with its unflinching brutality. We wonder, how can human beings really be like this? We have to be brave to both tell a story and listen to it.
I believe that it takes time. Telling a story first requires patience on the part of the storyteller that the story may not be complete or what it has been dreamt up to be. This is why storytellers need an audience - not to validate their work, but to serve as figures who listen and offer support. It is the audience who will help storytellers grow. They'll make them feel angry, happy, frustrated, and relieved. The beauty of narrative is the ability to connect with another person in the deepest of human ways - sharing. When a person tells a story, s/he is setting it free. It's out in the world to be experienced.
11 December 2011
It Goes Both Ways
It Goes Both Ways: Lessons in Communication
© Rhianon Elan Gutierrez
December 11, 2011
I've noticed that there are active and passive communicators.
Active communicators are engaged when they communicate (whether through aural, visual, gestural, or written means) and when they listen and observe. They listen and look at all possible emotional, physical, and environmental cues. They make it known that they want you to understand them and that they want to understand you. Passive communicators often are disinterested in reciprocity or are terrified of judgment. These feelings strain communication, but they are amendable. The fear of being judged exists in so many deaf and hard of hearing people that I've met - notably about their speech, intellect, and listening and signing abilities.
There's a motto that I've come to live by: "If I am going to listen to you, I need you to face me and speak clearly in order for me to give you my fullest attention. It is only fair for the both of us."
Who wants to communicate with a wall? Be an active communicator. Communication goes both ways. You cannot blame another person for their "ignorance" if you do not make your needs known. I consider eye contact and body language to be important in my interactions but I recognize that everyone has a "comfort zone". Some people cannot look at me in the eye for emotional or psychological reasons, so I make an effort to move my head where I can best see their faces. I tell them this. I do the same thing when I communicate with wheelchair users. As a listener and observer, you should make an effort to make your conversations the best they can be in the circumstances you're given. Use all possible means to make your conversation meaningful. You can do it.
© Rhianon Elan Gutierrez
December 11, 2011
I've noticed that there are active and passive communicators.
Active communicators are engaged when they communicate (whether through aural, visual, gestural, or written means) and when they listen and observe. They listen and look at all possible emotional, physical, and environmental cues. They make it known that they want you to understand them and that they want to understand you. Passive communicators often are disinterested in reciprocity or are terrified of judgment. These feelings strain communication, but they are amendable. The fear of being judged exists in so many deaf and hard of hearing people that I've met - notably about their speech, intellect, and listening and signing abilities.
There's a motto that I've come to live by: "If I am going to listen to you, I need you to face me and speak clearly in order for me to give you my fullest attention. It is only fair for the both of us."
Who wants to communicate with a wall? Be an active communicator. Communication goes both ways. You cannot blame another person for their "ignorance" if you do not make your needs known. I consider eye contact and body language to be important in my interactions but I recognize that everyone has a "comfort zone". Some people cannot look at me in the eye for emotional or psychological reasons, so I make an effort to move my head where I can best see their faces. I tell them this. I do the same thing when I communicate with wheelchair users. As a listener and observer, you should make an effort to make your conversations the best they can be in the circumstances you're given. Use all possible means to make your conversation meaningful. You can do it.
10 December 2011
Why I Gave In
Why I Gave In: On Using Closed Captioning Devices in Theatres
© Rhianon Elan Gutierrez
December 9, 2011
Tonight, I gave in and finally tried the latest in closed captioning movie theatre technology, CaptiView, to see the film "New Years Eve". I knew that I had to have captions to enjoy the film because it had so many characters in it. I enjoy ensemble films but I have not actually seen one in a movie theatre. I'm glad that I chose to use CaptiView because it gave me access to so many funny lines that I would have missed otherwise. But that is not the major reason why I'm glad that I used it.
My viewing experiences have usually been captions or subtitles on the picture or no captions at all. I have preferred not to use rear window captioning for various reasons, the main one being that it practically screams, "Deaf person here!" With open captions or subtitles, you don't need to worry about that. You're just an audience member. When I watch films, I am an audience member who wants to blend in with the rest of the audience and participate. The first film that I saw with subtitles was "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon" in 2000. I was so excited to see subtitles on the movie screen that I think I may have cried when the film started.
I grew up wanting to be in the movies, then wanting to make movies. I never thought about accessibility in theatres. I loved images and how they made me feel, think, and experience humanity. I did not need words to understand emotion. I enjoyed watching animated films in theatres with my friends because it was about community and imagination. We recreated the animated worlds in our living rooms and backyards and made our own dialogue. At home, I read numerous books and watched captioned television and live action movies. I was happy.
When I went to film school, I encountered a level of exclusion that I had never before felt in my life. I was not only feeling shut out from my peers, but I felt shut out from technology. I faced a battle in college: I used real-time captionists in my classes but still struggled to get my teachers to make sure the films they chose were captioned or were going to get captioned by an outside vendor. Forget it if student films were captioned, including mine! Deadlines needed to be met and college students epitomized the spirit of procrastination. I watched many films with my eyes closed, even the good ones. I was exhausted and probably depressed. My friends couldn't believe I slept through even the foreign films.
When you use captions, you read a lot. Skilled caption users read super fast and still take in the beauty of the image. I want to experience the beauty and the words. Those beautiful, funny, tragic, and shocking words.
As a filmmaker, I naturally have aesthetic preferences. There are certain films that I like - independent, art house, foreign, and documentary - and three of these four are usually not captioned. My routine has been to make sure that I have enough sugar, caffeine, and brainpower to watch these films (and sometimes I research them beforehand). I usually bring a hearing buddy with me to poke when I have questions. My mother, best friend, and boyfriend are the fastest translators for me, but I've come to rely on them less and on my eyes and cochlear implant more. I usually say "no" to comedies and action films because there's too many sounds and quick lines that I miss.
I share my story because it's important to know where I come from. Today, I support accessible media and work to make media accessible as a filmmaker and advocate. I have high expectations for captions - the color, placement, timing, word choice, spacing, punctuation, and grammar - and why shouldn't I? I strongly believe in quality captioning that informs and/or enhances the viewing experience rather than distracts from it.
CaptiView is a small black box with a bendy arm and a lower metal part that swivels to enable you to position it in either one of your cup holders. You can set the box to where you want to view it. The box is about six inches wide and maybe three inches tall and has small corners around the words (which are about size eighteen font and the color of traffic light green) so that others around you cannot view them.
What I liked about using CaptiView was that it allowed me to sit wherever I wanted in the theatre and position the device in the place that was most comfortable for me. Because I have used captions for at least twenty years, I was able to make it a seamless experience to look up and down at the picture and words when I needed to do so. It was also easy to set up - I only had to turn it on, push the "A" button to select the auditorium I was in, and then push the "C" button to turn on the captions. They captioned the music, sound effects, and dialogue. I stayed awake the entire time, but maybe the bag of candy I ate had something to do with that, too!
The negative part of using CaptiView was that I had to use my hand and leg to hold the metal part in place because it would swing towards me if I did not. There were also some words missing from the dialogue, but this might not be true for everyone. I was able to follow the film and enjoy it but a large part of me felt anxious about distracting the people behind me with how much I was moving the device around. I'd like an anxiety-free viewing experience!
Overall, I'm glad that I used CaptiView and I see it as a progress in closed captioning in theatres. I know that we have come a long way, and I'm grateful for those who have developed and continue to develop technologies to make moviegoing a more accessible experience for the widest range of people. I'm grateful that I have support from so many of my deaf and hard of hearing friends. I'm still going to advocate for even better technologies that make the cinematic experience more universally accessible and enjoyable. Stay tuned!
© Rhianon Elan Gutierrez
December 9, 2011
My viewing experiences have usually been captions or subtitles on the picture or no captions at all. I have preferred not to use rear window captioning for various reasons, the main one being that it practically screams, "Deaf person here!" With open captions or subtitles, you don't need to worry about that. You're just an audience member. When I watch films, I am an audience member who wants to blend in with the rest of the audience and participate. The first film that I saw with subtitles was "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon" in 2000. I was so excited to see subtitles on the movie screen that I think I may have cried when the film started.
I grew up wanting to be in the movies, then wanting to make movies. I never thought about accessibility in theatres. I loved images and how they made me feel, think, and experience humanity. I did not need words to understand emotion. I enjoyed watching animated films in theatres with my friends because it was about community and imagination. We recreated the animated worlds in our living rooms and backyards and made our own dialogue. At home, I read numerous books and watched captioned television and live action movies. I was happy.
When I went to film school, I encountered a level of exclusion that I had never before felt in my life. I was not only feeling shut out from my peers, but I felt shut out from technology. I faced a battle in college: I used real-time captionists in my classes but still struggled to get my teachers to make sure the films they chose were captioned or were going to get captioned by an outside vendor. Forget it if student films were captioned, including mine! Deadlines needed to be met and college students epitomized the spirit of procrastination. I watched many films with my eyes closed, even the good ones. I was exhausted and probably depressed. My friends couldn't believe I slept through even the foreign films.
When you use captions, you read a lot. Skilled caption users read super fast and still take in the beauty of the image. I want to experience the beauty and the words. Those beautiful, funny, tragic, and shocking words.
As a filmmaker, I naturally have aesthetic preferences. There are certain films that I like - independent, art house, foreign, and documentary - and three of these four are usually not captioned. My routine has been to make sure that I have enough sugar, caffeine, and brainpower to watch these films (and sometimes I research them beforehand). I usually bring a hearing buddy with me to poke when I have questions. My mother, best friend, and boyfriend are the fastest translators for me, but I've come to rely on them less and on my eyes and cochlear implant more. I usually say "no" to comedies and action films because there's too many sounds and quick lines that I miss.
I share my story because it's important to know where I come from. Today, I support accessible media and work to make media accessible as a filmmaker and advocate. I have high expectations for captions - the color, placement, timing, word choice, spacing, punctuation, and grammar - and why shouldn't I? I strongly believe in quality captioning that informs and/or enhances the viewing experience rather than distracts from it.
What I liked about using CaptiView was that it allowed me to sit wherever I wanted in the theatre and position the device in the place that was most comfortable for me. Because I have used captions for at least twenty years, I was able to make it a seamless experience to look up and down at the picture and words when I needed to do so. It was also easy to set up - I only had to turn it on, push the "A" button to select the auditorium I was in, and then push the "C" button to turn on the captions. They captioned the music, sound effects, and dialogue. I stayed awake the entire time, but maybe the bag of candy I ate had something to do with that, too!
The negative part of using CaptiView was that I had to use my hand and leg to hold the metal part in place because it would swing towards me if I did not. There were also some words missing from the dialogue, but this might not be true for everyone. I was able to follow the film and enjoy it but a large part of me felt anxious about distracting the people behind me with how much I was moving the device around. I'd like an anxiety-free viewing experience!
Overall, I'm glad that I used CaptiView and I see it as a progress in closed captioning in theatres. I know that we have come a long way, and I'm grateful for those who have developed and continue to develop technologies to make moviegoing a more accessible experience for the widest range of people. I'm grateful that I have support from so many of my deaf and hard of hearing friends. I'm still going to advocate for even better technologies that make the cinematic experience more universally accessible and enjoyable. Stay tuned!
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