This article originally appeared at www.deafprofessional.net.

“Where people go, I go the other way,” Jay Blumenfeld says with a playful smile.

Blumenfeld, 52, is the owner of Smart Alex, a Chicago-based manufacturer and wholesale distributor of greeting cards and party items. Smart Alex – which bills itself as having “smart humor with attitude,” has sold over 16 million cards that are usually sold at small, quirky family-owned shops.

“At first glance, you’d think we were a company that produced greeting cards, party coasters, bachelorette gifts, party hats and gift tags. When you look a little closer, though, you see what we really do,” Blumenfeld says. “We make people smile. Quite often I’ll be in a store and see people pick up one of our products, read it, and then chuckle to themselves.”

A Humble Start
Blumenfeld and his late brother Richard, both deaf, were born and raised in St. Paul, Minn. Mainstreamed for most of his school years until his 1972 high school graduation, Blumenfeld attended the Rochester Institute of Technology. He graduated with honors and an associate’s degree in photography, in addition to winning several awards for his photography.

It was during his childhood that Blumenfeld discovered photography. “My father was a commercial photographer of some note. I grew up in and around his studio, and often accompanied him to outside photo shoots as well.” After college, Blumenfeld began dabbling in freelance photography and became fascinated with photographing female impersonators, taking hundreds of photographs in various cities. He returned to Minnesota to put his work together in book form, and eventually moved to New York City with the intention of finding a publisher.

“I saw art director after art director, publisher after publisher, and I always heard the same two things: ‘Great book, just not the right time,’ and ‘You should really think about incorporating your work into a fun, alternative line of greeting card. It’s the hottest thing in the market,” Blumenfeld remembers. “I did a little investigating and found out they were right. It was pretty much an untapped market and the possibilities to be creative, clever and fun seemed unlimited. That was 1980, and I jumped in feet first and have never looked back.”

However, 1980 was long before e-mail, fax machines and relay services were on the scene. Unable to pick up the phone and make calls to operate his nationwide business, then known as Innovisions, Blumenfeld traveled constantly to meet with potential representatives, in addition to handling designing, printing, packaging and mailing. “Customer service was another big challenge for me. All orders and communications with customers had to be done via mail,” Blumenfeld explains. “This put me at a four-day disadvantage compared to my competitors, something that bothered me a great deal.” Even so, one good thing came out of this experience. “I developed the habit of answering all of my mail and filling all of my orders immediately, something that I still do to this day and something that has served me very well.”

Lessons Learned
Maintaining this work schedule for the first three years of his business is something that amazes Blumenfeld today. “I honestly couldn’t tell you how I managed to keep it up, but I’m glad I did. One of the most important things I learned was the value of a relationship that is formed face-to-face. Once I had established myself and was able to hire employees, I started to take the standard route of engaging representatives, suppliers, customers, and so on. Those relationships never seemed to develop quite as fully, and after a few years, I went back to my practice of meeting people in person,” he says. “I’ve found that people genuinely appreciate the effort that it takes to travel to them, look them in the eye and shake their hand. No telephone call or e-mail can ever replace that.”

By 1988, Blumenfeld found himself in a quandary. The greeting card industry was changing, especially with Hallmark entering the alternative scene with its Shoebox line and driving many small companies out of business. Blumenfeld, who was friends with many small company owners, believed he was next in line. “I attended a party and I met a gentleman who worked in the field of marketing. We hit it off, and it wasn’t long before we became good friends. One day I was telling him about my plight, how I was pretty sure this was the end. He looked right at me and said, ‘Jay, you’ve got a great head on your shoulders, use it. Think of something new, something different. At this point, you really have nowhere to go but up.'”

With this piece of advice that Blumenfeld calls a “wake-up call” and a renewed belief in himself, he began to re-examine what worked and what didn’t. “Once I did that, I could clearly see what it was we had been doing, and it was easy to go in a new direction. The ideas flowed, and the turnaround was quite dramatic,” he says.

Within a short span of time, the business made a comeback, and was more successful than ever. “I learned just how important it is to be honest, brutally honest, when assessing what it is you and your company are doing. If it seems stale, it is. If it seems tired, it is. If you wouldn’t buy it yourself, why in the world would someone else? Figure this out before your customers and respond accordingly. Subsequently, growth is almost automatic.”

Smart Alex and Grandma Ruth
In 1997, Blumenfeld made the decision to narrow the focus of Innovisions and to revitalize the company’s image. Searching for a name to communicate the company’s newer and fresher image, Blumenfeld spoke with a friend and local greeting card/toy store retailer, Ted Frankel. “I explained my dilemma to Ted and he commented that he had always liked the name ‘Smart Alex,’ a play on the words, ‘smart aleck.’ It was one of those lightbulb-over-the-head moments. I fell in love with the name on the spot, and even got the paperwork started to facilitate our name change that very day,” Blumenfeld says. “Truthfully, I can say it’s one of the single best business decisions that I’ve ever made.”

Today, browsing through the Smart Alex catalog offering “smart humor with attitude,” customers can choose from mischievous cards, coasters laced with insults, and other tongue-in-cheek products. Most notable are the cards featuring Grandma Ruth, a sweet-looking white-haired woman in various poses.

“My grandmother, Ruth Blumenfeld, started modeling for me at the age of 91 and continued to do so until the age of 96. This business is very much about tapping into the mood and tenor of society. A design that sold gangbusters last year may be a dud this year,” Blumenfeld smiles.

“Not so with Grandma Ruth. She seems to be impervious to the changing times and trends. In the last 23 years she has appeared on millions of greeting cards, and her cards have never fallen off my bestsellers list,” Blumenfeld says. “I don’t know how many times people have told me that she simply looks the way most people think a grandmother should look.”

Ruth, who passed away at the age of 101 in 1992, had an unbeatable sense of humor, Blumenfeld adds. “My family swears I inherited her humor gene. A perfect example is from when I was about 10. My dad bought an expensive sweater and showed it to my family. I said to my mom that it was a beautiful sweater, and she said ‘Ohh, it cost fifty bucks!’ That was back in 1964. I went up to Dad and said, ‘I don’t like your sweater…take it back!’ My family laughed, and this is how my Grandma Ruth would talk, also.”

The combination of humor, strong work ethics, and a willing market has proven successful for Smart Alex. The company has won six Louie Awards, greeting card awards that are the equivalent of Academy Awards. Smart Alex also received “Card of the Year” honors for three of its cards in 1991, one in 1995, and two in 1996, beating out thousands of companies.

Balancing Business with Pleasure
Even with his hectic work schedule, Blumenfeld makes sure to balance business with pleasure. Featured in Chicago Magazine for his cookie jar collection, Blumenfeld also collects Funko Wacky Wobblers, a line of bobbing head toys. But more important to him are the people he surrounds himself with.

Thomasina Seah, Blumenfeld’s best friend, knows this all too well. “Jay is a wonderful friend and an astute businessman. Jay has owned the business for 26 years, but he still possesses the same zeal and enthusiasm for his work as he did on Day One,” she says. “Despite his hectic and often stressful professional life, he never neglects to nurture his personal life.”

“Jay is a very gentle person who is not only creative but has a clever business mind,” Howard Rosenblum, an attorney in Chicago who is deaf, says. “Part of his success also comes from his intense loyalty to friends as well as colleagues and employees. A person who has Jay as a close friend knows that he can always be relied upon and trusted.”

Blumenfeld is quick to say, “Not only are friends important to me in my professional life, but they’re invaluable to me personally.” Equally important to him are his employees. Blumenfeld, who currently has five employees (all hearing, although he has often had deaf employees in the past), says his co-workers are like family, especially Austin Jones, a certified public accountant who has worked with him for 26 years.

Another co-worker who is prominent in Blumenfeld’s life is Mark Taylor, who has worked with him since 1992 as a commercial designer/illustrator. Taylor is also Blumenfeld’s partner of 18 years. “It’d be impossible for me to overstate the role that he has played in my success,” Blumenfeld says. “He’s someone whose opinion I trust completely. His perspective is often quite different than mine, and he provides me with a second set of eyes, allowing me to see things in a way that I probably wouldn’t have on my own.”

Looking to the Future
Smart Alex has no plans to close anytime soon. Blumenfeld is constantly working on new ideas and products for his company, saying, “Growth is the key to keeping it fresh and exciting, and that’s the key to maintaining your enthusiasm!”

“Jay’s greeting card business is essentially hip in that he and his network of employees and contractors have a cheerful irreverence for the norm,” Rosenblum says. “They continually reinvent their cards so that the business is always on the leading edge of the market. This is an excellent example of how a deaf person can be a successful businessperson without needing to focus on a deaf identity, but instead, marketing to the world at large.”

“The day I stop looking to the future is the day that I will give it up and look to do something else,” Blumenfeld says. “This is what I do for a living, and honestly, I can’t think of anything else I’d rather do.”

The Smart Alex website is at www.smartalexinc.com.

Copyrighted material. This article can not be copied, reproduced, or redistributed without the written consent of the author.

This article originally appeared at i711.com.

If a deaf person runs for political office, should deaf people automatically support that candidate simply because she or he is deaf?

That was the question I posed to several friends recently. In Minnesota, we have the fine Rev. Emory Dively (R) running for District 64B (St. Paul) in the Minnesota House of Representatives. He’s up against incumbent Michael Paymar (DFL) in a heavily Democratic district.

Emory and I serve on the Minnesota Association of Deaf Citizens (MADC) board together; he’s long been involved with the Deaf community, including through his church and as a past president of MADC. As a registered Democrat, I initially wasn’t sure about supporting a Republican. I have deep respect for Emory and decided to support him out of loyalty and his dedication to social justice, but I did wonder at first about the consequences of supporting someone whose political affiliation wasn’t something I cared for. So I asked friends what they thought. (In the spirit of disclosure, I should mention that I contributed financially to Dively’s campaign.)

A Democrat friend quickly responded to my question, saying that deaf people should always support a deaf candidate, regardless of party affiliation. “When you support a deaf candidate, you’re assured that the candidate’s primary focus will be equality in all aspects of life,” he said. “And if he’s deaf, he’s going to automatically support deaf people’s issues and rights.” Hmm, good point.

Another Democrat friend disagreed, saying that it’s about belief systems for him. He said he couldn’t imagine voting for a candidate who supported the death penalty or other fundamental issues. I asked, for discussion’s sake: “But if we support a hearing candidate who might not care about deaf people’s equal access and prefers to focus on other issues, instead of the deaf candidate – then won’t that increase the risk of our rights as deaf people being taken away? Shouldn’t we support a deaf candidate for that very reason alone?”

He replied, “What’s the likelihood that a rookie representative changes the system and eliminates oppression and discrimination during his/her term? There are other issues she or he will have to focus on, too.” Good point, too.

A Republican friend – I do have Republican friends, believe it or not – said, “I would go for the candidate’s agenda and platform, rather than party affiliation or being deaf. For instance, if a CODA runs for political office, but is a great supporter of American Sign Language and Deaf culture, then I would support for this person over a candidate who doesn’t support these things, even if the other candidate is deaf or hard of hearing.” Me, too, although I would also look at other moral issues.

Yet, on the flip side, it’s a major asset to have a Deaf representative involved in the political process, because this does wonders in changing hearing people’s – legislators, especially – perceptions of deaf and hard of hearing people. Even though there are many ways of doing this without being directly involved in the legislative process, it’s important to have someone actually involved in the day-to-day business of creating laws.

In the case of Emory, my doubts continued until I interviewed him for SIGNews. After a fascinating chat, I realized that he actually supported many issues that I was in favor of, and even the issues we disagreed on weren’t major issues. But the selling point for me was that if he got elected – I can’t vote for him, since I don’t live in his district -I could easily meet with him at any time if he is elected. I know he’d make time for me and for any other Deaf Minnesotan on whatever topic we wanted to talk about, because we are his people and community.

That, for me, is of paramount importance: accessibility to politicians. With accessibility, I can take full advantage of our country’s democratic process and express my views and opinions. With other legislators that I meet with for various organizations such as MADC, I sometimes have to explain how to use interpreters, ASL, and so on. Generally, legislators allot very limited time for these meetings with their constituents, and these explanations eat up valuable time; I’d much prefer to spend that time on the issues I’m there to talk about. With a deaf candidate like Emory, all these hindrances would be removed, and we’d be able to focus on the issues at hand, deaf-related or not.

For me, it boils down to learning all I can about candidates, and having access to these politicians. And if they’re deaf – even better! That enables me to talk with them directly to see what issues they support, so I can make an informed decision about who to vote for.

Don’t forget to vote on November 7.

Copyrighted material. This article can not be copied, reproduced, or redistributed without the written consent of the author.

This article originally appeared at www.deafprofessional.net.

The cover of Deaf in Delhi features a stunningly handsome, dark man, complete with fashionable scarf around neck. I couldn’t help but marvel at the black and white picture, which is reminiscent of a different era, yet resembles a modern-day Banana Republic advertisement.

Deaf in Delhi details growing up deaf in India during the 1940s and 1950s. Author Madan Vasishta – who is the 21-year-old man on the cover, now in his 60s – says he wrote the book because he knows of many deaf people in India who have very little hope for their futures. “Growing up, I never met another deaf person until I was well into my 20s,” he says over coffee and rolls at Washington, D.C.’s Union Station. That is a concept I find difficult to grasp, given the opportunities I have had as a born-deaf American.

I had corresponded with Vasishta for many years, starting with when he wrote stories for a publication I edited. I had pictured him to be a tall man, full of confidence and arrogance. We finally met at Union Station in the summer of 2006. What I wasn’t prepared for was that I was taller than Madan; the power of his words makes him larger than life. He wasn’t at all arrogant; rather, he was kind-hearted, energetic and easy to chat with.

“Over the years, whenever I told stories about my growing up in India to friends, they would say, you need to write all this down,” Vasishta says. “They’d say that these stories would make a good book. I laughed these suggestions off for 30 years. However, after my retirement, I decided to take the pen, or as I say, hit the keyboard.” His stories have evolved into a witty and heart-warming memoir of a life shaped by the experience of becoming deaf after a two-week typhoid fever and mumps at the age of 11. “It amuses me to look back and think about how many cures I had to experience before we all finally accepted I wasn’t going to regain my hearing,” he recalls with a twinkle in his eye. He adds that he grew up in an era where poverty existed among most people in India, who relied upon family ties, tradition and faith for strength.

This 216-page book is full of charming anecdotes, quirky memories and a tongue-in-cheek style. Ideal for Deaf culture and/or Deaf studies courses and for leisurely reading, this easy-to-read book is a fascinating look into deaf life in India. After becoming deaf, Vasishta tells of his frustration at not being able to attend school, and his refusal to accept the fate of being a cattle herder. Determined to educate himself, he moved to Delhi.

“The train hurtled in. The second-class bogies were not only full but literally bursting at the seams with people,” he writes. “I managed to jump onto the nearest door and hung to the door handle while standing on the first step. As the train moved, I managed to get my two feet on the main floor of the bogey. There I stood for seven hours as the train sped by fields where farmers were sowing corn. I smiled. I was done with farming! A new life was waiting for me…”

Vasishta attended photography school and met a cast of deaf characters who eventually became his life-changing connection to the deaf community. He also remembers with pride how, after he left his photography job, he beat out over 80 hearing people for a much-coveted government job.

My favorite parts in the book, by far, were the cultural misunderstandings upon his arrival at Gallaudet University. He writes, “As time went on, I learned more American English. Americans do not sell garages or yards when they advertise garage or yard sales. An African friend went to a professional photographer for a new photograph of himself since his counselor had recommended that he ‘present his best picture’ at an upcoming job interview. I had already learned that Americans played ‘football” with their hands (and no foul was called) and rarely touched it with a foot… When a boy and a girl take their car to “park” behind a building, they usually have some other purpose in mind. The list is endless.”

Vasishta’s amusing honesty emerges often. “In India, you can ask an acquaintance how he paid for a certain item, what his salary is, and whether he is happy with his wife. Such questions reflect your concern for the individual,” he writes. “In America, my polite inquiries about people’s personal affairs generated shock and annoyance. The nicest response to my questions was ‘none of your business.’ Sometimes, people would also interject some other words before the word business. I acquired a pretty good vocabulary of four-letter words while checking on my new friends’ general welfare.”

Despite cultural and emotional adjustments, Vasishta achieved milestones beyond even any American’s wildest dreams. It is remarkable to think of how far he has come – especially during an era when today’s technology didn’t exist. He earned his doctorate, served as the superintendent of the New Mexico School for the Deaf and the North Carolina School for the Deaf, and is currently an associate professor in the administration and supervision graduate program at Gallaudet University. He authored an Indian Sign Language dictionary, had two children with his wife of 39 years, who he met through an arranged marriage (also detailed in the book). He is also working on a historical fiction novel book based on Gallaudet during the 1880s, and writing a sequel to his memoir.

Deaf in Delhi is worth the buy and read. Vasishta’s story is a story of self-propelled determination and achievement, one that Americans can learn from.

Deaf in Delhi is published by Gallaudet University Press, and is available for $29.95.

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This article originally appeared at www.deafprofessional.net.

When you see Gabe Leung’s business card, chances are you’ll do a double-take. At first glance, you read the company information for Ooqboo. Then you see that there is more information on the other end of the card so you turn it upside down. That’s when you realize that “Ooqboo” looks the same from either end. This card is a perfect example of Leung’s off-beat humor and creativity.

Leung is the co-owner of Ooqboo, a toy e-boutique specializing in unique collectible toys and books. “We started this retail business a year ago when we hunted for many limited edition toy figures from all over the world,” Leung said. “Many of these toys are collectibles, not typical educational toys for children. So we realized we could make a business out of this and cater to a specific clientele, ranging from teenagers to senior citizens.” The toys Ooqboo sells are typically urban vinyl toys, designed by both renowned artists and new artists. “It’s a neat trade-off, because many of these new or renowned artists have paintings that are too expensive for collectors, so a designer toy is a great and cheaper alternative for fans.”

In addition to Ooqboo, 31-year-old Leungis also a freelance graphic and web designer who works with various clients around the world in countries such as Japan. “I usually work in the evenings when my creative juices flow rapidly into sketches and the computer,” Leung said. “I tend to work better with the pressure of deadlines creeping into my head. I don’t really have a typical schedule. Sometimes my schedule is really hectic for a week, and then I’m free the next week. This helps me keep myself entertained as opposed to a stable job.”

Leung’s love of art began at an early age when his father gave him a few “Learn to Draw” books. He also credited his globetrotting days as a young child for his interest in various art cultures. “However, I drifted away from art while in college. I juggled majors, including biology and computer science, before I found that visual communication was a perfect fit for me.” As an art student and an outgoing personality – Leung is known among his friends for well-attended and fun parties– he began to create visual projects for family and friends. After earning a bachelor’s degree in visual communication from the University of Arizona, Leung worked in different cities, including Chicago and New York City, before settling in San Francisco with his wife, Susie Lai.

Leung said that the many jobs he has held played a major role in choosing his current career. “I was a mail sorter, peer mentor, newspaper web assistant, stock photo researcher, web consultant, and interactive designer,” he remembered. “The vast experience of going through many different jobs definitely shaped my current career, as I got to know which career would ideally fit my personality and skills. Did I want to sit in a plain office for the next 30 years or did I want to split my work time being on my feet half of the time and the other half on my buttocks in the office? Did I want to sit in front of a computer monitor for 40 hours a week? Being a designer was something that I fell in love with, because I like creating things for someone else.”

Leung stressed the importance of volunteering for various organizations. “I also volunteered for so many different things,” he said. “It’s nice to give back what the world has given me.” Another potential career on the horizon for Leung is to teach, he said. “I wouldn’t mind teaching at all; I would love to nurture the kids with my knowledge and experience that I have gained in the academic and work world.” He adds, half-joking, that the three months off during the summer would enable him to travel the world.

In fact, this love of travel enables Leung to attend toy and comic conventions around the world. “It’s great, because I get many cool freebies, and get invited to many underground parties,” he said. “I’m often the only deaf attendee at these conferences. I was surprised to see so many positive responses from people there when I approached them with pen and paper for communication. It seems like toy designers and toy retailers form a tight community, much like that of the deaf community.”

Owning a small business is challenging, but Leung has some sage advice. “Always be optimistic about what you can do instead of being too pessimistic about what you have done. It’s also good to try to be innovative in what you do.”

Copyrighted material. This article can not be copied, reproduced, or redistributed without the written consent of the author.

This article originally appeared at i711.com.

I was watching television the other night, and my husband said as he pointed at the screen, “You know, I’m gonna vote for that guy.” I looked at him in puzzlement. He was pointing to a renowned politician who typically didn’t work with the deaf community (or many other communities, for that matter). I realized he was joking when he laughed, “Well, his ad says ‘Crosses political party lines.'” My husband’s point was that the ad wasn’t captioned so we had to rely on whatever was shown on screen.

It’s an election year here in Minnesota, so we’re seeing a lot of ads on television where the politician tries to come across as genuine by wearing a flannel shirt or having photo ops with children. My newspaper of choice, the Minneapolis Star Tribune, is chock full of letters to the editors and exposes on politicians. It’s from these stories that I actually learn what candidates say in their televised advertisements.

Yup, you got it. I have to read the newspaper to find out what politicians say in their television ads since the ads generally aren’t captioned. In fact, the number of captioned political ads here can be counted on one hand. For the rest of the ads, I spend my time watching them try-too-hard-to-be-genuine-in-their-smiles as they hawk their platforms because I have absolutely no clue about what’s being said. Sure, I research the candidates before I go to the voting booth, but it’s nice to be able to understand the televised ads, too.

Minnesota prides itself on being a progressive state and proving people who think we’re a bunch of Midwestern hicks (we have those, too) wrong. Yet, year after year, our own politicians consistently neglect to make their advertisements accessible. Mind you, this isn’t a partisan issue. The non-captioning violators include Republicans, Democrats and Independents.

This is mind-boggling when you think about it. There are over 400,000 Minnesotans with hearing loss. That’s a lot of votes. Many of them work for the state in every department imaginable. We also have a legislative day for deaf and hard of hearing people every year at the capitol where we meet with legislators and have a rally. The Minnesota Association of Deaf Citizens is one of the oldest, and most powerful, political and advocacy organizations in the state. Finally, to add insult to injury, we have a deaf man running for a district seat with the House of Representatives.

Yet we continue to lack accessibility when it comes to political campaigns. What’s wrong with this picture?

Minnesota Commission Serving Deaf and Hard of Hearing People (MCDHH) director Mary Hartnett has been working to ensure that these political television advertisements are captioned. She recently contacted candidates for different seats – the governor, attorney general, and so on – and asked them to caption their advertisements. In fact, she went a step further and told the politicians of an agreement with a well-reputed, Minneapolis-based captioning company to provide services at a discount.

Only three responded.

This is terrible, but what’s even more terrible is that MCDHH actually had to do this. Why do we have to actually make calls and remind politicians that there are hundreds of thousands of people in the state who rely on closed captioning?

Money and ignorance, that’s why. This lack of captioning is such a dense mistake a politician can make – claiming to support all groups of people and then deliberately ignoring one of the largest and most active groups in the state. But there is some hope. When Hartnett contacted the governor’s office about captioning, a staffer responded via e-mail, “This is a no-brainer,” and agreed to caption the governor’s advertisements. That’s a start, at least.

Maybe we can make it even more accessible next election year by having all politicians automatically caption their advertisements without anyone having to remind them. That step should be a no-brainer, indeed.

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This article originally appeared at deafprofessional.net.

Swimming with sharks and turtles in the sea in between hours of relaxation is something many people only dream of. For Naomi Hayim, it’s simply another day on the job.

Hayim, 28, works as an open water scuba instructor and logistics coordinator for Worldwide Dive and Sail, a company that specializes in diving and sailing in areas such as the Similan and Surin islands, Burma Banks and Andaman Islands. In between trips, Hayim lives in Phuket, Thailand, where the company has an office to coordinate upcoming trips.

Hayim, who is deaf, has been diving for over ten years. “I started diving when I was 17, as I was already interested in the underwater world,” she says. “From these few first breaths underwater at a swimming pool, I was hooked, and the rest is history!”

Born and raised in London, Hayim studied marine and freshwater biology at Queen Mary and Westfield College in the East End of London during the late 1990s Working in pharmaceutical communications, she had her first sea dive in County Galway, Ireland in 1995 and then in Thailand in 2003. “I always dived in my spare time, and over the years, it gradually took up more of my time.”

It wasn’t until the owner of Worldwide Dive and Sail decided to provide greater access to the sport of diving that Hayim made her passion a full-time career. The company provides access in eight languages, including sign language. “We thought it’d be a good idea to increase the access to diving for deaf and hard of hearing people,” says Hayim, who was raised orally but uses sign language and lipreading today. “I’ve come across many deaf people who face communication difficulty while diving, so on the boat, we make it very easy by eliminating as much of these problems as possible. I believe that diving should be for everyone. We are currently the only liveaboard in the world that offers such facilities, as far as I am aware of.”

A typical day for the company, which leads boat trips each day of up to eleven people, including two instructors and three crew members, consists of having a light breakfast and then having up to four dives a day, starting at 7:00 a.m. After a larger breakfast and rest, the group dives again at 11:00 a.m. before having an European or Thai lunch. The group has leisurely activities such as sailing, snorkeling, fishing, or kayaking before another dive at 2:30 p.m., with a plate of fruits afterwards. After watching the sunset, the group then goes for a night dive at 7 p.m. The day wraps up with a dinner and more relaxation. Hayim explains, “We always tell people that they do not have to make four dives a day. They can choose to relax on the boat, jump off one of the secluded islands, sail around the bays and islands. Flexibility is the key.”

Even a relaxing job like this isn’t without its dangers. During Asia’s devastating tsunami in December 2004, Hayim’s group was in the vicinity. “Luckily, we were at Richelieu Rock, which is situated in the middle of the ocean,” she remembers. “Even though we were diving at the time, which meant we were caught up in strong currents, all of us emerged to the surface.” There were two deaf divers in the group, including one who was doing her fourth open water dive. “What a famous dive that was! It is definitely something we’ll share with our grandchildren.”

Becoming a dive instructor requires hard work, commitment and experience, according to Hayim. “Get up the dive ladder. It’s not only the qualifications, but the experience that counts. The more dives you do in different places and environments, the better,” she says. “The divemaster course is the first level of entering professional diving. A passion of the sport and the ability to relate to people on a personal level are two other key elements. It’s a very rewarding and satisfying job as well.”

Even with all the work that comes with operating a company like Worldwide Dive and Sail, the perks are what make the work worth it for Hayim. “There’s never anything better than seeing a manta ray glide by or a whaleshark cruise by – the gentle giants of the sea. They’re so enormous, but somehow, when you encounter one, you do nothing but gaze in full awe. And that’s why I do what I do.”

For more information on the trips offered by Worldwide Dive and Sail, visit www.worldwidediveandsail.com.

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This article originally appeared at deafprofessional.net.

If you’re in Milwaukee and see a deaf guy trying to get money out of a pay phone, don’t feel sorry for him. It’s only John Fletcher making a living.

Fletcher, 37, is the owner and president of Northlink of Wisconsin. “We basically monitor, repair, collect and maintain pay phone routes in Milwaukee and Northern Ilinois,” he explains. “That includes pay phones on streets, at malls, factories, and the penal system.”

Fletcher founded Northlink after returning from three years at the Rochester Institute of Technology in New York. “My father has always been self-employed and motivated, so that rubbed off on me. When I came back from New York, I went with my father to his job, where he was selling long distance plans to small business owners. One of my father’s friends was unhappy with the service of a pay phone provider that was on his store property, and asked us to put a phone there.”

Fletcher and his father, unfamiliar with how to do this, researched the possibility of owning pay phones and learned about the industry. They then invested in six phones and equipment for the first six months. “The company started small, and I was working at the Target distribution center for Target stores in Wisconsin and Illinois,” he remembers. “I worked ten-hour days building my company. We moved a few phones around, learned from our mistakes and then grew and grew.”

Today, Northlink owns over 250 public pay phones, along with managing 400 pay phones for three companies based in Milwaukee, Ohio and New York. In addition, Fletcher is a service technician for AT&T. “AT&T owns the right to be the telephone dial-tone provider for the Kenosha County jails. The phones are coinless and only take collect calls from inmates at the jails, so I service the hardware should anything happen, like a broken handset or things like that,” says Fletcher, who uses a hearing aid to listen for dial tones and other sounds. “I also service the computer system of these phones because they’re monitored. It’s an interesting job, needless to say.”

Northlink also owns all 20 payphones at Miller Park Stadium, which houses the Milwaukee Brewers. “I installed them all when the stadium was under construction,” Fletcher says proudly. “That’s just one way we make revenue, which is in a number of ways. For instance, for every long distance call made from one of my pay phones, we receive payments from the long-distance company. We also are paid per phone by the company we manage phones for.”

Fletcher continues to work with his father, who is the vice president of the company and handles administrative work. “I love the freedom of being on the road to work, when, how and where I want,” says Fletcher, who drives anywhere between Milwaukee and Joliet, Ill. – a distance of over 100 miles one way. “At times I have to do big projects like installation of phones or wiring. These jobs require part-time workers, and I have always hired deaf workers because they are the best, work hard and don’t talk too much like hearing people. Although I’m kidding about the talking too much part, deaf people are definitely very hard workers.”

That’s not to say that Northlink’s growth has been without challenges. “The biggest challenges are in getting up and making things happen,” Fletcher says thoughtfully. “You know, this is a cliché but if you snooze, you lose. My job is a sales job, so I have to continuously go out looking for location and opportunity.”

Fletcher is also honest about the demands of being self-employed. “Self-employment hours are 25 hours a day and eight days a week. Like I said, you snooze, you lose. You are never finished, and if you do finish your job, find something else to add to your company.”

He’s gained some wisdom on the realities of being a company owner. “If you’re a deaf person wanting to do this work, you have to never be put down. You can do anything, and if you need assistance, it’s out there. Don’t be afraid to ask, research, question and proceed. Pessimism or discouragement isn’t worth it. There’s not a reason in the world that you cannot do what you want.”

Fletcher has no plans of changing careers any time soon. “I plan to stay with this form of work for as long as I can. I see and have no reason to ever stop this kind of job. Besides, I love the feeling of empowering yourself to greatness, and I get that feeling through this job.”

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This article originally appeared at i711.com.

Recently, I was at a chapter meeting for an organization. When the floor opened to nominations for president, nearly every person in the room was nominated – and every person declined. Everyone kept saying, “Me? Oh, no, not me!” As I watched each person shake his or her head, I became more and more let down. (Disclaimer: I also declined the opportunity because of involvement in many other organizations.) To be an officer requires a lot of work, yes, but it’s also an honor to represent the community, especially for a chapter that has as much history as this one does. Had nobody accepted the presidency, the chapter would have folded.

This “not me!” syndrome is happening with so many organizations within the Deaf community. Of course, apathy isn’t a new problem; in fact, my parents’ 1972 Gallaudet yearbook has a full-page picture of a student with APATHY on his forehead. That picture dates the concept of apathy at least three decades back. Even so, when I was little, my parents often took me to local chapter meetings for various organizations. I was usually off in the corner playing with friends, but I remember looking up and seeing members talking about why they were the best candidates for different positions. I often studied their sometimes eloquent, sometimes comically nervous speeches. I always looked at these individuals with awe, because I considered them “important” – important enough to be trusted with the organization’s doings.

I don’t remember the last time I’ve seen anyone give a candidacy speech, probably because people often run uncontested or are coerced into accepting positions with organizations. Last year, when I became vice president of the Minnesota Association for Deaf Citizens, I ran uncontested, as did the other candidates for different positions. It’s always the same story: when I ask people why they don’t join certain organizations, they say that they’re “not into politics” (“not into politics” seems to be the standard answer, even if it’s a book club) or are too busy.

Busy? I can understand family and work obligations – these are, without doubt, important commitments. But the irony is that the very same ones who say they’re too busy usually aren’t involved with any other organizations, either. Besides, it doesn’t take much time to fill out a membership application. Even being “only” a member is so very important in supporting the organization.

As I watched the “Not me!” syndrome emerging at this chapter meeting, I worried about our future. How could we encourage people to stay involved? Without community involvement or membership, organizations become weak – or worse yet, die away – and then our collective voice becomes weaker when we try to maintain our rights and issues near and dear. Just as I considered giving up more of my time by becoming an officer in order to ‘save’ the chapter, someone nominated his wife, who replied via pager that she accepted. The husband then nominated himself as vice-president, and I moved that they choose a secretary/treasurer at their own discretion. Problem solved – for now.

I left the meeting still feeling jaded. No matter how old I am, I will continue participating in organizations either as a member or officer until I’m physically unable to. It’s my duty as a community member – something I learned very early on as a Deaf child in a Deaf club.

Apathy? Not me!

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