150 Years on Kendall Green: The Blog

The conference ended nearly two months ago. This blog must, therefore, also come to an end. I’ll be closing the comments fairly soon, but the blog itself (and its individual posts/entries) will remain indefinitely.

While it was not a ground-breaking conference (there have been other Deaf history conferences, most notably Deaf History International’s (DHI) triennial gatherings (the next one is Stockholm in 2009)), it was an exciting one; the focus was ostensibly on Kendall Green and by extension Gallaudet University, but in reality we learned about such disparate topics as Laura Redden Searing, the history of African Deaf communities, deaf immigrants, the history of Kendall School and its black students, and Deaf ministers. This was in addition to more direct institutional history, such as the work of George Detmold, the life of Douglas Craig, mathematics instruction, and much more. Finally, the three keynote speeches addressed the history of the Deaf community and its origins as viewed through the prism of Kendall Green, the conflicts and leadership of the 20th century, and the concept and meanings behind Deafhood.

Some of these papers we may never hear about again; others will be presented again after further research and revisions, and some will be published as articles and books. As previously noted, Chris Krentz’s presentation was derived from his work, which will be published this fall. I expect some of the other information shared during this gathering will be published, such as Harry Lang’s work on Laura Redden Searing.

In any event, those of us in attendance and those of you who have been following this blog are now aware of the rich history that has been uncovered, the additional information that we now know. These new perceptions of historical events and figures will no doubt inspire additional research and work. Historical research and publication is never static; it’s an ongoing process. Both amateur and trained historians have much to contribute to historical research and writing, whether it’s general history, local history, U.S. history, or Deaf history.

I’m not sure about the other attendees, or about the readers of this blog, but for me, the conference whetted my appetite. Deaf history is still a small, new field, but there is still so much work that can and should be done. I’m not sure how or when I’ll contribute, but I hope to share what I can in whatever way I can to increasing the knowledge and understanding we have of Deaf people in America.

The conference was also beneficial in other ways of course; meeting new people, reconnecting with old friends, and forging ties with people who share a common interest in history. It was also interesting being on campus again; like any other college campus, there’s always construction going on, little changes here and there, and of course, as an alumni, memories seeping from every corner and crevice.

I enjoyed the conference, and I also enjoyed being the “official” recorder of sorts as well. I only wish I could have done a better job. I had originally intended to (*cough*) “liveblog” the conference, with the vision that I would post entries as soon as possible after the actual presentations and speeches. Unfortunately, I was a bit too optimistic– for one thing, my typing speed is nowhere near 200 wpm, nor is my typing anywhere near 100% accuracy. Throw in technical problems (the power went out the afternoon of the first day, I had some difficulties with the computer the second day), and before you know it, it all snowballed. Unexpected illness and the demands of The Real World stretched out the completion of this blog.

So, I’d like to first thank my readers for their patience; if I ever have the opportunity to cover a conference or convention again, I’ll definitely do my part to ensure timeliness!

I’d like to thank Brian Greenwald and his committee, for asking me to take on this responsibility, and then supporting me throughout. I’d also like to thank the Gallaudet University Press for supporting this endeavor as well– both this blog and the conference.

I’d like to thank the conference attendees for allowing me to get in their face with my camera; I only wish I’d had more opportunities to take more photos, especially more candid shots.

While all the presenters should be acknowledged for their presentations and speeches, I’d especially like to thank Dr. James McPherson, Dr. I. King Jordan, and Dr. Paddy Ladd for agreeing to an interview. I think the interviews allowed the opportunity to expand more on the central points all three wanted to make, and also permitted the audience here at the blog to better understand each man and what they brought to the conference.

The comments you left also made this a fun interactive experience. I would like to specifically thank Barb DiGi, a fellow conference attendee, for her sharp attention to detail. Barb has vlogged a few entries about the conference. I had the pleasure of meeting her, and only wish she’d introduced herself earlier!

I also owe gratitude to Shane Feldman and Jared Evans. Both covered the National Association of the Deaf (NAD) conference last summer in Palm Desert, California, and thus had invaluable experience in covering a conference/convention. Both were generous with their thoughts and insights. Thank you, Shane and Jared!

The suggestions I received from Feldman and Evans (no relation, folks!) helped immeasurably; but in retrospect, there’s more I could have done. That’s always the case, I think. But overall, I think this blog accomplished what it set out to do.

Thanks for joining me. See you at the next Deaf history conference, wherever and whenever it is (I’m considering the possibility of Sweden in 2009. See what happens…)!

Postscript: It has been remarked on here and elsewhere that these individual entries contain a lot of information. I want to make it clear here: NONE of these entries I’ve written are verbatim transcripts. They are SUMMARIZATIONS. Please treat them as such. Additionally, I’d like to again remind everyone that if you use any material here, you need to cite your source. Give credit to myself/this blog, and credit to the original presenter. Thank you.

Paddy Ladd’s keynote speech led to observations and opinions, both in person at the conference and in the comments section of the keynote post on this blog, about whether filming of presentations should be allowed. Naturally, quite a few people felt the conference presentations should be filmed, and rumors spread that control by interpreters was the reason for Dr. Ladd being denied permission to film. Others suggested it was a classic conflict between hearing and deaf, oppressor and oppressed. Yet others noted the inconsistency in policy; Dr. Ladd himself noted in our interview that while he was disturbed by the seeming refusal to allow the filming of his own speech, he also observed that, “However, this problem also occurred at the last two DHI conferences too, which were Deaf-run, which is even worse.”

I had been informed prior to attending the conference that although I was free to take notes, and I had been tapped to do a blog of the conference, with posts summarizing the presentations and activities, I would not be allowed to take pictures during the actual speeches/presentations. This was largely due to legal concerns, but upon reflection, having flash exploding in your eyes would probably be a big distraction for everyone, including the speaker!

I decided in the wake of this controversy and Paddy Ladd’s own comments during the interview with him, partly out of curiosity, and partly out of a sense of fairness, to ask Dr. John Van Cleve, the head of the Gallaudet University Press (which sponsored the conference), and a member of the committee that organized this conference, if he had anything he wanted to add in the way of an explanation or a rebuttal. He took the opportunity to issue the following statement:

“Filming presentations at conferences presents legal and ethical problems. Everyone at a conference that is not a public event has the legal right to deny that their image can be copied and distributed without their permission. This includes not only the presenters and the interpreters, but also people who ask questions, the session chair, and even technical staff who may cross the stage in the performance of their responsibilities. Anyone who is filmed any time, for any reason whatsoever, must be told 1) exactly how the film is going to be used and 2) sign a formal, written, legal release allowing the filming to occur. The release must state the ways the film will be distributed and its purposes, and the release must give the person who will be filmed the opportunity to restrict the distribution of their image. Filming under any other conditions is unethical, and in the United States it is illegal.

Experienced conference organizers are aware of these issues, and they know that in today’s world the distribution of films cannot be controlled. The usual solution to the ethical and legal problems therefore is to deny all filming. This is not an ideal solution, but it is one that allows these kinds of conferences, particularly conferences with professional interpreters on stage, who have a legal and ethical expectation that they will not be filmed, to occur.

The presenters at the “150 Years on Kendall Green” conference knew ahead of time that they could not film. Dr. Greenwald repeated this in his statements at the beginning of the conference, and it was expected that the presenters would therefore follow this rule and respect the rights of other individuals at the conference as well as the legal obligations of Gallaudet University.”

It seems that the decision was made in advance not to allow any recording of this conference whatsoever. There’s still the issue of the captioning, any audio recordings, and other methods, but as far as I know at this point, nothing was retained. This blog, to the best of my knowledge, is the only “official” record. There’s also other mentions of the conference here and there, most notably Barb DiGi’s recollections, at her site, Deaf Progressivism.

As I’ve noted before, the presenters may be adapting their papers for future publication as articles or books. It’s also possible that this conference is the only time we’ll hear or read about these presentations at all.

What interests me here is the inconsistency of this issue. While Ladd and others legitimately note that ASL is a visual language (indeed, *all* signed languages are visual languages) and support filming as a way to preserve signs and Deaf history, Van Cleve also correctly notes that it is a legal issue as well as an ethical and moral issue.

Some may argue that Van Cleve is following established procedures and policies, including those established prior to the conference; others may argue that Ladd has the right to film himself. But I don’t think pointing fingers is the appropriate way to handle this. In fact, I think both Van Cleve and Ladd are right: we need to preserve our history and language, but not at the cost of violating laws and crossing ethical boundaries.

Ladd is also on target about the Deaf History International (DHI) conferences. I’ve told many people, both on-line and off, that I have never seen videotaping or filming of conferences, and I’ve gone to quite a few academic conferences, which are different from social events and cultural festivals. Yet, not too long after I returned from this conference, I was at the ASL Lab at CSUN, looking over their videotape holdings, and found a few from the very first DHI conference in 1991 at Gallaudet University. I viewed one, and sure enough, the actual presentations were there. So there is an imbalance in DHI’s own policies; while there were films made of the first gathering, apparently that’s not the case now.

So what to do about this? I think the best solution is not to blame Van Cleve or Ladd, DHI or Gallaudet. That does nothing– all it accomplishes is negativity, hand-wringing, and yet another issue for us to all chew on (and ultimately do nothing about). Rather, I think two communities could work together to help formulate policies and guidelines. Once they’ve done so, they could then take their proposed solutions to Gallaudet, which should then institute a formal policy for future conferences, especially those revolving around Deaf culture and history. The two groups I have in mind are Deaf Academics, a community of Deaf people seeking terminal degrees in their chosen profession, and deaf filmmakers. These rising academics have attended conferences and are familiar with (or soon will be!) the inner workings of academia, and can see both the needs and practices of academia and the needs of the Deaf community. Thus they’re in a unique position to help shape policy for the future. Deaf filmmakers are of course familiar with their craft, and can aid in helping to outline guidelines and policies that the academics craft.

Maybe these aren’t the two best groups; maybe they won’t want to assume responsibility. But it’s an idea, and a starting place that’s worth exploring. At the very least, instead of being reactive about this situation, it’s time for us to start practicing what quite a few of us have been preaching of late: be proactive. Future policies won’t only benefit Gallaudet; they can also benefit regional, state, and national groups, other universities and programs (CSUN and NTID, for example), and perhaps lead to a fuller understanding of how to craft guidelines that will meet the needs of everyone involved.

The interviews with our previous keynote speakers, Dr. James M. McPherson and Dr. I. King Jordan, were successful, with both conversations allowing deeper examination of their respective keynote speeches, as well as some insights into the speakers and their thoughts on Deaf history.

Now I wish to present the final keynote speaker interview: my conversation with Dr. Paddy Ladd. Paddy Ladd himself needs no introduction, but some of you may not be familiar with his background or career. Again, the program book tells us more about the keynote presenters. In Dr. Ladd’s case, this is what the program book had to say:

Paddy Ladd co-founded the Deaf group NUD, which fostered TV programs in British Sign Language (BSL) and approaches to Deaf education that emphasize bilingualism. He then founded the London Deaf Video Project for Deaf People and advocated the use of BSL videos for translating government information. He held the Powrie V. Doctor Chair in Deaf Studies at Gallaudet University, Washington, D.C. in 1992-93. He also founded the FDP in 1998 to replace the NUD, and created the Blue Ribbon ceremony at the World Federation of the Deaf in 1999. He is the author of numerous research articles, and published his book In Search of Deafhood: Multilingual Matters in 2003. At present, he is the Director of Research Programmes at the University of Bristol, Clifton, Bristol, U.K.

Because the conference was drawing to a close, and we both had obligations, we agreed to conduct this interview on-line, rather than in person. Thus, without further ado, here is “A Conversation with Paddy Ladd.”

David S. Evans [DSE]: Thanks so much for being willing to spare some time to talk with me! I was able to interview Dr. McPherson and Dr. Jordan, so it’s nice to have interviews with all three keynote speakers.

My first question is this: Deafhood has been all the rage over the last few months here in the United States. I’m curious: what do you think of all this? Do you think we Americans are fully grasping the concepts you’ve outlined? Or are we simply at the very beginning of our journey?

Paddy Ladd [PL]: First, let me begin by thanking the History Department at Gallaudet for inviting me to give the paper; that was a brave move in the present climate, and I appreciate them taking that step. I also appreciate the fact of the conference itself, which was overflowing with good papers, many of which opened new doors.

You said it - we are indeed at the beginning of the journey, all of us, in the USA and elsewhere. Of course the discussion, “What does ‘Deaf’ mean?” is as old as the hills (or their first Deaf inhabitants!), but most of those discourses, because they have been in Sign and not in print, are not recorded.

I see the Deafhood concept as an opportunity to collect and situate those kinds of discussions within a framework of post-colonial studies, which gives us, as indeed the equivalent ideas do for other colonised societies, the opportunity to cast the net as widely as possible, within information pertaining to the past, present, and future. I can tell you that the take-up of the concept has been far greater in the USA than elsewhere (Germany seems to be the second most involved country as of this moment), for which much credit is due, both to the enquiring nature of US Deaf people, and to the efforts of David Eberwein, Ella Lentz, Genie Gertz, and Joey Baer in undertaking this task, as well as to the various pioneering bodies which have asked them to speak on the subject.

How do I feel about this? Very humbled and gratified. It also feels strange, as if it is happening to someone else, rather than myself!

DSE: Many of us really enjoyed your presentation this morning, but there was quite a bit jammed in there, and quite a bit left out due to time. What would you say is the single most important concept for someone to bring away from your keynote presentation? If you only had five minutes rather than over an hour, what would you want your audience to remember most?

PL: That’s an almost impossible question to answer! It was incredibly difficult to reduce it to 45 minutes as it was. I guess that I hope an audience could see the necessity of asking ourselves the questions above, and that the concept is intended to bring about unity and reconciliation over time by realising that we have all been damaged by oralist and other forms of colonialism; that not even Deaf families are exempt. I would hope also that we become clear about the need to respect Deaf traditions and cultures, and the need to prioritise Deaf subaltern experiences, especially those who are functionally monolingual. But at the same time we need to recognise that from this base we then go beyond these, strong enough in our self-respect that we can embrace mainstreamed Deaf people, hearing people of Deaf children, CODAs, etc., firm about some of the basic principles for which we stand, yet open to having others become allies and participants once they are clear about these relatively firm positions.

DSE: I was thinking about your presentation overall. Deafhood has quite a few universal themes. In a way, it almost seems like a utopian concept, an idealistic view of the world. Some might even say it carries theological and moral tones, in the vein of “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” Is it realistic to expect people to fully set aside their prejudices and their preconceived notions of who they are and where they fit in? Do you view Deafhood as the epitome of what we can be as Deaf people, as a utopian goal to achieve, or merely as a guidepost to aspire to?

PL: Deafhood is not an absolutist concept; it’s a journey and a process. To stop simply at what is presently understood as a “Big D” position is to replicate some of the problems we already have. And it certainly is intended to have spiritual overtones– asking why Deaf people exist, and/or should be ‘allowed’ to continue to exist (cf the genetics debate) can bring us to a place of spiritual intentionality, whether that higher power is ‘God’, ‘Allah’, ‘Jehovah’ or the Gaian principle (which itself is the nearest thing to the 19th-century French Deaf position of Clerc, etc., regarding “Nature.”) We cannot assume that this is “correct.” At the same time, it cannot be disproved either.

DSE: Ok, that’s interesting. A lot of this is covered in your book, I’m sure. Speaking of your book, a lot of people here in the U.S. have cautioned that your book is not an easy one to read. Your discussion during your presentation used a lot of scholarly and sometimes abstract ideas. In your talk, you said that there is a need to engage subalterns and reach out to them and include them in the larger community. How do you plan to make Deafhood accessible to the community as a whole, not just the educated Deaf people here at Gallaudet and around the globe?

PL: The book had to be written at the level it is because it is intended to match the highest discourse levels of present “hearing” scholarship. It’s easier to show this in sign language than in English. I sign it as a way to “shield” Deaf people from oppression, a kind of “This is their wisdom and experience– now respect it and stop oppressing them” stance. Having established that position, the aim of subsequent books is to then use simpler English because the position has been established.

I try to encourage people to use the book as a resource. Dip into the chapters that are easiest to read, e.g. chapters 7, 8, and 9, and take it from there.

But, yes, I am very concerned re: accessibility. I simply don’t have the time or energy to make the necessary DVDs, and I get rather fed up with people saying I should be the person to do this alone. I would much prefer people to come to me and say, “Hey, we want to put your book onto a DVD– can we set up a team to do this?” The www.deafhood.com site will help when it is opened– the English is simpler there… But it still needs people to sign the work. I am happy to see the U.S. Deafhood study groups growing, especially when they make sure they bring along other Deaf people to take part in that process.

DSE: In my interview with keynote speaker James McPherson, I asked about where he felt Deaf history should fit in with history in general. I’d like to ask you a variation on this question. In what direction do you think Deaf history should go? What role, if any, should Deafhood play in future research and publications?

PL: I think almost all Deaf history research can be framed in Deafhood terms — i.e. in respect of finding out more about what “Deaf” has been, and how that relates to the various patterns of wider histories. I have to run now, so I can’t go into this in further depth. But I would stress how vital it is to film and archive Deaf materials, especially with older people. I (and many others) were really dismayed to find that the conference not only did not want to film any of the presentations and discussions (especially given the importance of “oral” histories and of the need to archive materials). Not only that, but they then forbade others to do so. I may be wrong, but at regular hearing conferences, I think speakers are audio-recorded by audience members without problems.

There was a suggestion that this was because of the interpreters’ demands. For one thing, interpreters should not have that power over sign communities. But also, filming could have been done without sound.

However, this problem also occurred at the last two Deaf History International [DHI] conferences too, which were Deaf-run, which is even worse.

I recall one Deaf teacher being very upset because he could not bring back anything of those conferences to show and inspire his Deaf students with. That said it all for me.

So you can see this problem is even bigger than Gallaudet. There may be other issues I’m not aware of regarding the filming and recording of conferences. Again, it would appear that this issue of interpreting “permissions” is far wider than what we witnessed at this conference. Given that it affects the filming and dissemination of Deaf people’s information, we need, both in the U.S. and elsewhere, some serious, clear, setting down of the various issues that have to be considered, so that solutions can be more swiftly found.

Failing to ensure, or suppressing the circulation of signed information, given how much we have to catch up with hearing people’s information, is very much an anti-Deafhood thing for me.

Finally, to end on a happier note, I understand that following “DPN2,” there was a big increase in the number of Deaf students for Deaf history courses. This seems to be a remarkable statement about the importance of history in our present-day lives, actions, and self-concepts. The more that we press for what we feel, intuitively if not verbal-eloquently, are deeper Deafhood issues, the more we can spark the interest and consciousness of both Deaf and hearing people. So this is something we could give more attention to in future priorities for Deaf research.

DSE: Thank you for your thoughts, Dr. Ladd. I really appreciate your taking the time to do this interview. Best of luck with your research and work, and hope to see you next time you’re on this side of the pond!

Today’s the final day of the conference. Most people are still here, although some are leaving tonight, while others will disperse over the weekend. We’ve been sitting straight through large portions of today, so the main picture will have to be the one in your head, envisioning a rapt audience hanging on the every word of the presenter presently on stage. For the rest of the day, scroll down!

Michael Reis is enraptured by the video clip with snippets of all of Gallaudet’s presidents (sans EMG and W. Lloyd Johns) shown signing. It was a very interesting clip, and hopefully whoever created it will think about possibly putting it up here or elsewhere for us to view! I’d never seen Percival Hall signing, so that was neat.

Victor Vodounou is explaining about how Andrew Foster brought wrestling to Africa. No, wait, he’s telling about how Foster introduced football to Africa! No, that’s not right either… Perhaps how Foster introduced America to Africa?

Most likely he’s answering a follow-up question to his interesting presentation on a Black Deaf pioneer who established more than 30 schools all over Africa.

The Gallaudet University Press and its employees cheerfully visited with conference participants and offered their books at a special discount for registered attendees. It was a good opportunity to look over the latest publications, or consider buying a book that you wanted for some time. It’s interesting to think of the small number of books on Deaf studies and history just a generation or two ago, compared with today. There’s even more books in the pipeline, as we found out during some of the presentations.

That’s it– it’s been a great three days. The next photo essay will be coming to you at the next Deaf history gathering; although I’m not sure when that is, let’s hope it’ll be soon!

We have finished two of the three speakers. Now Ripley’s colleague Lucille Blackwell will also speak on Laura Redden Searing. Her presentation is titled “Laura C. Redden: Public Poet.”

Blackwell: Harry Lang spoke about Redden’s interaction with the Lincolns and her life as a journalist; I will talk about the other part of her life as a poet. She wrote very accessible poetry. She interacted with everyone.

Here’s a sample of her poetry [Blackwell quickly shows a snippet]. She may have been a gardener, since she writes a lot about flowers in her poetry, and she also published a number of articles about flowers. There’s perhaps also some interest in the sciences. She also wrote romantic poems and other types of poems.

[Basically we are treated to very brief and quick samples of her poetry, and Blackwell is telling us little bits and snippets such as Redden writing about John Greenleaf Whittier, and that they sustained a friendship for many years.]

Redden became a poet for three reasons. Her father died when she was young, so she had more independence than other women, whose fathers might have guided them towards marriage or other more “acceptable” pursuits. Second, she was deaf. At fifteen, she wondered and worried about her future as a deaf woman. She did think about marrying a young man once in Illinois, but her step-father encouraged her to go to the Missouri School instead. She did so, and then was enccouraged to be a writer. Finally, the Civil War allowed her to express her thoughts through patriotic poems.

In the mid 1860’s, she went to Europe and wandered for four years. While she was there, she met other authors and artists. Her poetry shows her adaptability in absorbing new words and languages. She wasn’t a good lipreader, but as this poem shows, she picked up dogsledding terms while in Alaska [Shows this poem very quickly, and it includes words like "mush," etc.]. In europe she learned enough of some languages to write poems in these languages.

She once wrote 70 poems, which taken together form a sort of epic. They’re not all in the same meter, the same length, etc. she could write in different registers, which indicated a high level of skill. We saw yesterday that deaf women were denied education, yet redden independently accomplished a lot, and she certainly was a role model for her times.

My Commentary: This presentation was far more accessible and appropriate for the conference than Ripley’s. Blackwell’s knowledge and enthusiasm for Redden was evident. The main problem during her presentation was that due to time limits, she was forced to show her PowerPoint presentation with the various poems at such a rapid pace, it was difficult to read the entire poem, or get a sense of why Redden was unique/important. While there was no clear tie to Gallaudet or Kendall Green, Blackwell’s talk contributes to a rounded-out sense of Deaf history through individual biography.

However, given that Redden was a poet and a journalist, and the fact that Chris Krentz also presented a paper talking about John Carlin, perhaps it might be time to have a conference at some point that focuses primarily on Deaf writers, artists, and sculptors. There certainly are quite a number of individuals that could be examined, from Edward Booth to Laura Redden Searing to John Carlin to Albert Ballin and Granville Redmond, and up into the 20th century, with people like Dorothy Miles and playwrights like Gil Eastman. Certainly something for someone out there to think about…

We’re in the middle of the final panel, and Ripley has left the stage. Now Teresa Burke introduces Harry Lang, who is probably best known for A Phone of Our Own: The Deaf Insurrection Against Ma Bell. He was, as was previously noted yesterday, the senior advisor for “Through Deaf Eyes.”

Lang will also talk about Laura Redden. His presentation is “I Considered Him My Friend: Laura C. Redden and Abraham Lincoln.” Lang begins by recounting his correspondence and work with Judy Yaeger Jones. Jones shared a box of materials with Lang. This container that she found that had tons of letters in them that were between Redden and noted people of the 19th century.

I want to talk about Redden today, but I also want to tie into Gallaudet, because we are here celebrating the 150th anniversary of Kendall Green. Fort Rapp was situated next to and on Kendall Green during the Civil War. In September, 1861, the Pennsylvania 62nd Infantry regiment from Pittsburgh encamped there. They were not yet fully outfitted and six of the companies received Springfields; the others got Enfield muskets.

During the first week of September, 1861, Laura C. Redden was a war correspondent. She came from Missouri to cover the Civil War for the St. Louis Republican. Within a week of her arrival in D.C., she was watching this regiment cross the Potomac. While she was in D.C., she stayed at the Willard Hotel, along with many others, from correspondents to government officials.

Laura Catherine Redden was born in 1839, and became deaf around age 12 or 13 due to meningitis. She went to the Missouri School for the Deaf, where she graduated in 1858. She primarily communicated through sign and written communication. She was an avid reader of the classics and poetry. Her family not wealthy, so she wanted to be self-supporting. She became a writer, and adopted the pseudonym “Howard Glyndon” when she was 19. She was very charming, and she was an advocate for female suffrage.

Missouri at the time was a border state and very politically divided; it was the only state that Stephen A. Douglas won in the 1860 Presidential election. Missouri was soon controlled quickly by the Union, but the was much death and chaos regardless. In St. Louis, a job was available as a war correspondent, and Redden decided to take it. She left by train, and arrived in Washington, D.C., where she used the telegraph to send back her dispatches.

She would go to the top of the Willard, where she used a telescope in her work. She rode horseback to the nearby camps to communicate with the soldiers, and then sent telegraphs back from the Willard. She and other correspondents were often on the Willard’s roof with telescopes during the war.

During the year 1861, Abraham Lincoln stayed at the Willard, General U.S. Grant stayed there, General George McClellan stayed there, and many others besides. Redden visited the receptions and events at the White House, just three blocks away from the Willard Hotel. D.C. was unpaved with dirt roads back then, and the streets quickly became muddy on rainy days. Nearly every block had a livery stable.

Redden was apparently pretty and quite vivacious, her newspaper was highly respected, and her nom de plume, Howard Glyndon, was well known. These elements helped her in her work. She was not the only female journalist at the time, but others mention her in their memoirs.

While in D.C., Redden met Lincoln six times in two months. In one of her written accounts of her meetings and sightings of Lincoln, she states about him, “I do not think the president had given three minutes thought to his personal apperance…” She was impressed with Lincoln and his bearing, recounting that “You could not, to save your life, even if that man were your bitterest enemy look upon that face and come away without feeling a respectable pity for the suffering clearly writtten on his face…” [These are quotes that Lang is showing in a simultaneous PowerPoint presentation]

In 1862, she was hired by publishers to edit a series of short biographies of men serving in the wartime Congress, titled Notable Men of the House. Some of the lawmakers whom she interviewed were involved with approving the legislation for the National Deaf-Mute College as part of the Columbia Institution, which of course today is Gallaudet University.

Some people claim she personally interviewed Lincoln, but the word “interview” back then did not have the same meaning as it does today. Back then, it could mean merely to see each other, and the two did have at least six meetings , but probably not an actual interview in the sense that we think of it today. However, another writer, John Janney, recounts that a “mute woman” met with Lincoln. Could this woman have been Redden? Judy Yaeger Jones found a handwritten note from Lincoln to Redden, so we know that they did have communications.

One must wonder how laura communicated with Lincoln and other personages such as Grant. She also knew Lincoln’s assassin, John Wilkes Booth, who actually learned some signs, as did Booth’s sister. We don’t know yet, but some wonder if there’s a possibility Lincoln knew some fingerspelling or signs. Lincoln also knew Frederick Barnard, who learned signs from Laurent Clerc. Laura Redden rarely used speech for communication, but she never described in detail how she obtained so many fascinating details during her interactions with others.

I’m trying to answer some of these questions that I’ve just posed, but we still don’t have a lot of answers; it’s a very tantalizing puzzle. By 1864, Redden was friends with General Grant, and Grant gave her a pass to go see the battles. We do know that she advised Lincoln in a letter to add Grant to the ticket in 1864 rather than Andrew Johnson. Redden was also friends with Mary Todd Lincoln.

Once, a General van Vliet handed Redden a paper and asked if she’d like to have it it; it was four stanzas commemorating the Battle of Balls Bluff by Willie Lincoln, the son of Abraham and Mary Todd Lincoln. After Willie died, Redden sent the poem back to Mrs. Lincoln along with her condolences. A few days later, a large bouquet arrived from Mary Todd Lincoln, thanking Laura Redden for her thoughtfulness.

There’s a lot more, of course, since I’m working on this now with Judy Yaeger Jones. But I’m excited to share this with you and continue this research.

My Commentary: This was an excellent paper for this particular panel; I’m now very interested in Laura Redden Searing, and looking forward to the publication or dissemination of Lang’s work. It would be interesting to know what her editors thought of her, what other assignments they sent her on, and what other reporters and war correspondents of the time thought of Redden, and what their interactions with her might have been. At a time when the telephone hadn’t yet been invented and the written word was paramount, I think Redden was able to seize opportunities that later generations probably didn’t have. Lang is presently doing research, so it’s hard to fully critique his work, or suggest new questions or avenues, but the presentation today was very satisfactory.

We finally took a break after a long afternoon. Everyone was glad to have a few minutes to stretch, get a drink, use the restroom, chat, and help the catering reduce the amount of food on the table to zero. I spent the time perusing the books available at the Gallaudet University Press table. Since they were offering a discount for conference-goers, I was seriously considering buying a book or two to add to my ever-growing collection!

This was the last break for us all– we soon were called back into the auditorium, to hear the last panel of the conference. Things were starting to wind down; a few people already had to leave for home.

The final panel would focus exclusively on the Deaf poet, Laura Redden Searing (1839-1923). The panel, appropriately, is titled “Deaf Poet Laura Redden.” Teresa Burke was the moderator for this panel, and introduced the three speakers, who are Debora Ripley, Lucille Blackwell, and Harry Lang. Ripley and Blackwell both teach at the Missouri School for the Deaf, while Lang is a professor at NTID. We’ll hear first from Ripley, an art teacher, who will present “Connecting Laura Redden with Today’s High School Deaf Students.”

Ripley: I work with Blackwell; we try to get students interested in history, so by the time they come to college they have a love of history. Today, I want to share a few examples of what were doing on the high school level. I will also speak about Redden as well.

In my own family, it’s sometimes difficult to get them interested in history and the past. They’re spoiled by Disney World-type vacations. I planned a trip to D.C. for five days, but the kids complained after the second day, and the Air and Space museum isn’t the same as Space Mountain.

So how do we engage students in learning to enjoy something? Sometimes it helps to make them think it’s their idea in getting involved in a topic or subject, and then enjoying the process. Sometimes it’s as simple as drawing contrasts between what they’re doing or what they’re seeing on TV. For example, getting kids interested in the Renaissance– it was difficult, but we planned a Renaissance festival at school, and in preparation we were to go to a larger festival. Unfortunately, there was no way to make any connections. Luckily the day before our class was to do our Renaissance unit was the opening ceremony of the 20th Winter Olympic Games in Torino, Italy. So I used this as a way to forge connections, from the winter sports equipment requirements, to the differences in snowflakes, to using science equipment to compare snowflakes, and so on. Then our next “connection” was trying to figure out when the microscope was first invented. So making connections is important in education. Now today, we’re focusing on Laura Redden. We take special interest in her as an alumnae.

So how do we get the kids engaged in Laura Redden? We start by describing her and referencing her as if though she were living today. If you point to her as a career woman, a divorced single mom, then it seems more like something that is happening in 2007, and students can relate to that. From there we go into her attributes, and then tell them that she graduated from the same school they’re attending. Now you have their attention, and now we can connect her to what’s going on in history, reading, writing, art, poetry, etc. Now she becomes an interesting point for further study. We could do a performance about her in drama class, for example. I’m going to show you a little bit of how we approach her in our program. You can use other deaf role models and people for your own schools and classes. Redden is just an example based on our own experiences.

One example of what we do– we started with a birthday party that then led to exploring who Redden was. [Ripley shows a picture of an enameled pin with Redden's face on it] We used this pin at one of our programs and we handed it out. We have postcards that we passed out with a picture and brief biographical information [Ripley shows a slide of the postcard].

Now I want to talk about cross-curriculum activities. [Ripley tries to get her equipment working]. I’m sorry, the film clip isn’t working. But essentially you can use these techniques for any historical figure, not just Laura Redden Searing. We have enjoyed our time here, and we will take back what we have learned with us and get our students engaged with history.

My Commentary: This was the weakest presentation of the entire conference, unfortunately. While Ripley’s enthusiasm for the work she and Blackwell are conducting is admirable, she spends the first half of her presentation not really talking about Redden Searing or Gallaudet or Kendall Green at all. The second half is about educational techniques in getting students involved in a topic. The tie-in here is that the topic is Laura Redden Searing. This is definitely an interesting subject, and the techniques she outlines are useful, I’m sure, but would be far more appropriate at a teacher’s workshop or a CEASD convention, or a high school education conference. This forum is focusing on the history of Kendall Green, and by extension, Gallaudet, and has attracted both as presenters and audience members scholars, academics, and amateur historians. Hopefully Ripley will preserve her talk and use it in a more appropriate setting or at a different conference.

The second and final speaker in the panel “Gallaudet’s Global Influence” is Victor Vodounou. His paper will discuss “The Influence of Gallaudet on Education, Language, and Culture of Deaf People in French-Speaking West African Countries.”

Vodounou: I decided to do research on Africa and Gallaudet’s influence after I heard about this conference. I couldn’t find any direct connection, but I did find an indirect influence.

Africa’s recent history is one of colonialism, with England and France the dominant powers. These cultures and languages still remain: 23 nations in Africa are French-speaking, in addition to the local languages. Most countries formerly under French influence are non-West African nations, and are not on the old Gold or Slave Coasts.

France of course gave Clerc to the U.S., but there was no Clerc for Africa. Here in the U.S., we have some approximate statistics for the national deaf population. But in African nations, we don’t have anywhere near an exact number of deaf people, but there must be many deaf in Africa; there are large deaf families there.

Now my topic subject is the influence of Gallaudet on African deaf education. We’ll start with Dr. Andrew Foster. He is considered the “father of the deaf” in Africa. Foster was born in 1925 in Alabama. He became deaf at 11 from meningitis, and was the first black Deaf man to graduate from Gallaudet. While he was at Gallaudet, he did research and realized there were no schools for the deaf in Africa. It really bothered him, so he decided he would go to Africa and help found schools.

In 1956, Foster founded the Christian Mission for the Deaf in Michigan, and then in 1957 he established the first school for the deaf in Ghana. He founded a total of 31 schools across Africa. Foster introduced Total Communication to African children for the purpose of understanding the Bible. He also built training centers for teachers and spiritual leaders. He was deeply religious and saw education as a path to God. In 1987, he died in a plane crash in Rwanda.

Foster’s legacy was introducing sign language that was similar to ASL, primary education, deaf culture, and Christianity; this is what he left to Deaf Africa.

The languages emerged as a mix of local and American signs. For example, Nigeria has Nigerian Sign Language, but it’s still close to what was received from Foster. The schools led to the development of Deaf culture in Africa. There wasn’t much technology, and until the schools, deaf people didn’t marry because they wouldn’t have met each other. Now that’s changed and we now have deaf couples and deaf families. In the past, maybe a deaf person would be in an arranged marriage with a hearing person– a deaf wife would be with a hearing husband, and the reverse.

So Andrew Foster brought his Gallaudet experience and helped transform African Deaf society.

Q & A for this panel:

question: Were African governments convinced to help establish schools? Or was Foster truly on his own?

Vodounou: Part of the problem in Africa is war, both between nations and within countries. This even extends to regional conflict: maybe one tribe has a school, another one doesn’t, and that is part of the conflict right there.

Yes, Foster did try to garner state support. Some governments helped, while others didn’t. Foster’s wife is now very old, but she’s still working and helping in some of these schools.

I’ve gone with Foster before, to meet the head of state of a nation, and there’d be media attention about this. Deaf men meeting the leader of the nation, so this attracted attention. Usually when he asked for support, the usual answer would be that there was a lack of money, but there was always curiosity about the fact that America and other nations had schools. Foster just forged ahead and the equipment always managed to materialize so it did goad some to action.

Elizabeth Andrews: I was approached recently by a Catholic organization in Ireland looking for volunteers to go to Africa to teach the deaf but these volunteers have to be qualified. Most deaf people in Ireland are not educated and they wanted ASL users. How do you feel about the use of ASL in Deaf African education, and how do you feel about missionaries being the ones to establish education?

Vodounou: Those are good questions. When Foster came to Africa, he wanted signs to be the mode of instruction. The French came along and were shocked to see signing, so then the French government sent oralist rehabilitationists, educators, specialists, etc. Remember it was like this in France until the 1970’s.

Many volunteers came for two years. They were trained in oralism, and they taught speech and lipreading. They got hearing aids for the children, but there were only a limited number of batteries. The kids would pass the batteries around, but once batteries died, the hearing aids were no good. The aid from France was not effective. Hearing aids are and were expensive. The families paid for the molds, which they often couldn’t afford, and so on. By using sign language, you don’t have to pay.

So if you want to help Deaf people in Africa, sign is the way to go. There are very few books in general on any topic and there aren’t any African sign language materials.

My Commentary: This paper was a perfect complement to Hartig’s presentation. Again, as Vodounou acknowledged, there is and was no real direct influence from Gallaudet, but just as Hartig noted, Gallaudet graduates do have a large influence that can be international at times. This paper led to a lot of questions in my mind: what provisions were made, if any, for education in any African nation prior to independence? How did local deaf people cope during the colonial era? How did the various tribes, kingdoms, and principalities treat their deaf citizens in the era prior to European colonization? Vodounou didn’t fully answer Andrews’ questions. I’d love to know how Africans feel about ASL and ASL signs being used in their sign languages, and I think that Edwards’ final question points to a larger topic that impacts deaf education globally: the disproportionate influence of religion in deaf education. Why does a need to “know God” have to be the main reason for spreading language? Have we moved beyond that, or are we still stuck in that cycle? Look at the number of interpreters who start as church interpreters, or claim they know signs based on their interpreting at church services. It’s definitely a topic for examination, in my opinion. As for African nations, is religion still a motivating factor in establishing schools and services?

We’ve just finished the previous panel, and according to the schedule, we’re supposed to have a break. But Brian Greenwald is on stage, and is making an announcement. Greenwald says that yet again, we’re a bit behind schedule, so there’s no break now– we’re going straight to the next panel, and then we’ll break.

This next panel is titled, “Gallaudet’s Global Influence,” and Doug Bahl is on stage to introduce the first speaker. He is going to introduce Rachel Hartig. Bahl mentions he’s the current president of Deaf History International (DHI), encourages people to contact Lois Bragg if they’re interested in DHI, and also to look at the complimentary copy of the newsletter in their conference packets as well.

Hartig’s paper is “The French Connection: Gallaudet’s Influence on Emmanuelle Laborit and the French Hearing and Deaf Communities.” She says that while she will speak about Laborit, the title doesn’t mean we’re going to hear some secret about Gene Hackman and deafness.

Hartig: This presentation will trace the influence Gallaudet had on the life and career of Emmanuelle Laborit and how this influence spread and impacted the French hearing and deaf communities. We will explore this topic by using Laborit’s memoir, “The Cry of the Gull,” in addition to my own work.

What was wrong with Laborit as a child? She didn’t form words; instead she let out screams, which reflected her desire to speak. Her parents gave her the nickname “Mouette,” which means “gull” in French. People thought she was delusional, not deaf, but she continued to only make noises. Finally an uncle realized that maybe it was deafness. When Laborit was nine months old, the doctors made the final diagnosis — yes, she was deaf. Laborit described in her memoir the “chaos in my head;” this was a description of her childhood. For her, there was no temporal sense or ability to place things in the abstract.

For Laborit and her family, there was no shared language. Her parents sought counsel, and were told not to use sign language. Instead, their daughter should have speech therapy and a hearing aid. As a child, Laborit lacked an identity and language; she felt isolated and marooned. She was terrified of the night and any parental absences. But once she was exposed at age 7 to sign, the family finally could forge relationships with each other.

In France, thanks to the Milan conference, the use of signs was banned until the 1970’s. But Dr. Laborit, Emmanuelle’s father, heard a radio interview with a deaf American theater director, Alfredo Corrado. Corrado mentioned the International Visual Theater (IVT), just outside of Paris, and also mentioned that he went to Gallaudet, where he graduated in 1970.

Dr. Laborit was amazed; he now knew that deaf people could earn a college degree and succeed. He felt cheated by the professionals the family had seen in France. He went with Emmanuelle to Vicennes, where they met Corrado and his interpreter, Bill Moody. Emmanuelle couldn’t tell who was hearing and who was deaf, but she was transfixed by signs. Corrado was the first deaf adult she knew, and this was a sea change for her.

She received her sign name while interacting with Corrado [Hartig demonstrates]: a sun coming from the heart. Now she had two different identities: Her given name, Emmanuelle, and her sign name, representing different aspects of her. She now had the ability to communicate and she found expression through theater. Her first play was based on her subway travels to Vicennes, an hour and a half journey to socialize with deaf people at IVT.

At the invitation of Bernard Mottez, Harry Markowicz came in 1976 to study LSF. The two men then facilitated trips for American professionals, most from Gallaudet, to come to France. People like Gil Eastman, Carol Padden, and Tom Humphries went. These were learning vacations for professionals and academics; this was one of the major affiliations between Gallaudet and France.

Laborit also made a trip– this was to the United States. This first trip was in 1979, and was an awakening. In France, signing in public was still considered shameful, so to then come and see Gallaudet was a revelation. Now Laborit not only had a personal identity, but a collective identity based on her trip. After this trip, her father, who was a psychiatrist, decided to work with only deaf people. He began an outpatient center that used only signs. Other adults that came on the trip were inspired to start to make changes in France, including more support for LSF.

Laborit blossomed as she grew up, and she was cast in the French adaptation of “Children of a Lesser God,” and won a Moliere award [similar to the American Tony award] for it. She was transformed by the experience, and she went on to a successful career in theater and film.

The mission of IVT is not just to support and nurture Deaf actors and to introduce Deaf culture, but also to introduce and sustain sign language in France. Laborit now leads the IVT and through her acting, directing and vision for IVT, she is trying to raise the public consciousness about LSF and promoting the use of LSF. Corrado was a Gallaudet graduate, and he influenced Laborit; her own trip to Gallaudet sparked changes. This means Gallaudet influenced her development.

My Commentary: This was an interesting presentation, but didn’t fully fit the scope of the conference or what I was expecting. It wasn’t so much an academic or historical paper; it was more an exploration of Gallaudet’s impact on the global Deaf community. But in this sense, it did fit the conference: One of the words in the conference title is “celebrating,” and this paper certainly celebrates the accomplishments of Gallaudet worldwide. At a time when Gallaudet is facing more than its share of changes, it’s good to be reminded that Gallaudet has an influence far beyond its physical boundaries, or even the United States. This is the type of paper I probably would have expected at a gathering such as Deaf Way, but it was still enjoyable nevertheless.

We are now going to hear the final speaker from the panel “Interpreting Deaf History.” William Ennis again takes the stage to introduce Douglas Baynton, whose paper is titled “The Intersection of Deaf Education and Immigration Policy.”

Baynton: My research lately has been largely on immigration, and I’ve found stories of deaf people that came to the U.S., and I want to share some of that with you today. During the 1880’s, the country experienced increased immigration, and immigration policies were unrestricted. But by the 1890’s, Congress began imposing limits, and this increased and changed over the years. It started with the Chinese, who were seen as unassimilable. The second group to face restrictions were those with mental defects, then the third group was a bit ambiguous; those who were “likely to become public charges.” These were people the government felt would become dependent on welfare. This group included children and women on their own, unless they were independently wealthy. There was also a third category within this broad classification; those with physical defects, which included the deaf.

People who found themselves in this vague division had to prove self-support– it was difficult to overcome that notion, plus whatever language barrier existed. For hearing people, they had interpreters skilled in a varied number of languages at Ellis Island, but for the deaf, there weren’t any interpreters, and they had to depend on hearing family members. So officials focused on those hearing people and ignored the deaf. Thus it happened that hearing children were asked about deaf parents, and they were questioned about how their parents worked, how their parents could support themselves, so they had to represent their parents plus overcoming attitudes about deaf people. So to overcome all that was tremendous.

The first story I want to share today is from 1906, about a man named Frederick Baglow. He was from England, he was 35, he was working for the British Deaf Times, and was working as a writer. He had money for his travels, and also had a letter from the British Deaf Times verifying his employment. He explained to the immigration officials that he was entering the country for work purposes, but to them he was an “likely public charge,”[LPC], and was thus denied entry. The immigration officers saw him not as a professional or a writer, but only as a deaf person. Now, if you were denied admission, you could appeal the decision in writing, but many deaf people couldn’t do that, so they just left and returned to where they came from.

However, Baglow decided to appeal. He wrote a letter to the commissioner, and the commissioner responded in his report that this man could speak, he had good English and he had good penmanship — this last is rather strange, but apparently the commissioner felt it was important. He also noted that Baglow was well-dressed, and a “gentleman,” so Baglow gained approval to enter the U.S.

Another story, this time from 1912, is about Charles McHardy, who was from Scotland. He was a tradesman, a 25 year old stonecutter, and you could earn good money at that time doing that work. What I found interesting in the files was that McHardy was trying to present himself as an independent businessman. But the immigration officials viewed him differently. First he was asked if he had relatives in the country, and he did say he had two brothers in Canada. They then suggested he go to Canada instead. He disagreed and said there were better opportunities in the U.S. Then they asked about his parents. McHardy said his parents were in Scotland. He tried to sidestep these questions and showed his union card to demonstrate his independence.

But the immigration officials persisted, and asked who would support him. He said friends encouraged him to come to America, and showed them letters saying that there was work for him in the United States. Finally the officials asked if he could prove why he should be allowed into the country. McHardy said, “Because I can work and I am a man.”

Obviously, he was trying to demonstrate he wasn’t akin to a child, but an adult. But officials still felt he was a “LPC” and deported him. Like Baglow, he also appealed his case, and the interview notes reflect a similar perspective as the initial encounter — he had good command of English, he was literate, he couldn’t speak, but he dressed well. So then they sent a letter to the stonecutter’s union asking if a deaf person could work in that job. The response stated that yes, they were better than their hearing peers because they were not easily distracted, there were no side conversations during work hours, and they were generally good at what they did. Many employers in Scotland preferred hiring deaf stonecutters. So finally McHardy was allowed in.

One more story: in 1913, a man named Moische Fischmann who was a Russian Jew, in his thirties. He was a blacksmith working with iron, and had worked in Russia with no problem for 16 years. But the pogroms of this era gave impetus for his departure. He fled to England, which is what many Russian Jews did. But then he decided to go to New York City, where he had family.

Upon his arrival at Ellis Island, the immigration board interviewed him, and he talked about his level of skill in his work, and his cousin brought two letters which verified job offers for him– these letters said there weren’t enough ironworkers in New York City. They wanted to hire him at $12 a week, which was very good pay at that time. But still the board labeled him as “LPC,” and denied him entry. Fischmann also appealed this decision, but his lack of English skills or speaking abilities led to his deportation.

The first two stories are exceptions to the rule; most had to go back to where they came from. Most of the time, we don’t know what happens to deported people. It’s very frustrating as a historian, because the only evidence we have about these people is the fact that they tried to come to this country.

Fischmann decided to try Belgium instead, but the following year, World War I started, and the Germans eventually went through Belgium, so Fischmann returned to England. He found work there, and met a philanthropist who was also a war refugee. This person said he would help Fischmann try again for New York and the U.S.

Luckily he found a ship in the middle of wartime that was going to the U.S. But upon arrival, the same thing happened again. He was interviewed again, and the same response: despite having relatives in New York City, he was deported because of the same reason — he couldn’t speak, etc. But then at the last minute, the immigration officials decided they couldn’t ship people back to Europe, because maritime travel had become too dangerous thanks to U-boat convoys. So instead, they imprisoned those with mental problems, but allowed other disabled people to finally leave Ellis Island.

So we have Baglow, who was highly educated and a professional; McHardy was sort of on the border because of his blue collar status. McHardy had to post a bond, and bonds could be anywhere from $500 to $1000, which was a huge sum back then [$500 in 1912 dollars, using the Consumer Price Index as a factor, is roughly $10,400 in 2006 dollars; $1000 would be approximately $20,800]. McHardy didn’t want to have to post bond, but finally realized it was necessary, so he posted bond with the aid of friends. Finally, we have Fischmann, who was deported due to his lack of English skills, in addition to everything else. It didn’t help that oralism was then at its peak. Oralism, combined with eugenics, social Darwinism, and a backlash against differences in general, made it difficult for immigrants with disabilities, such as the deaf, to gain entry to the U.S.

My Commentary: This was a very interesting presentation, and sheds light on another aspect of Deaf history. Obviously finding documentation may be very difficult, but I wonder what immigration officials did with deaf immigrants in the days prior to Ellis Island, when people arrived at Castle Garden? I’m also curious as to what happened to Deaf people after 1924, when the U.S. set up the quota system. Another avenue for further research could be tracking some of these immigrants, and then seeing if their descendants have letters or other documentation. This would be time-consuming, but might pay off in the end. Additionally, I think this presentation points to the need to research the history of deaf people in other countries. Baynton talked about Scots stonecutters preferring to hire deaf employees– this is a fascinating fact, and points to the possibility of finding additional information somewhere.