Latest news with #GallaudetUniversity
Yahoo
3 days ago
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
DWTS Champion Overwhelmed With Gratitude and Pride After Double Emmy Nods
DWTS Champion Overwhelmed With Gratitude and Pride After Double Emmy Nods originally appeared on Parade. A former winner of Dancing with the Stars had a strong reaction to the recent Emmy nominations. Season 22 DWTS winner Nyle DiMarco shared a video on his Instagram page showing his real-time reaction to learning the news, and fans loved it. The 2025 nominees for the 77th annual Primetime Emmy Awards were announced on July 15. DiMarco's Apple TV+ project Deaf President Now! received two nominations. One was for the category of Outstanding Documentary or Nonfiction Special, and the other was for Outstanding Directing for a Documentary or Nonfiction Program. DiMarco videotaped himself preparing for the live televised nominations. "Dang, it's going to be one LONG 15 minutes," he quipped as he braced himself for the lengthy rundown of nominations. Fifteen minutes later, DiMarco shared, "Wait... they're already done?!" He noted that the full nomination list was online, so he grabbed his laptop and teased, "Ok, LET'S GO THERE." View this post on Instagram A post shared by Nyle DiMarco (@nyledimarco) A few seconds later, he shared, "WE'RE NOMINATED!!!!" As he realized there was a second nomination, he added, "THAT'S YOUR BOY!!!" The video showed DiMarco pacing around his living room, the open laptop in one hand, as he pumped his fist. "Amazing amazing amazing," he gushed. DiMarco added, "THIS IS FOR YOU, THE DEAF COMMUNITY." The Apple Original Film Deaf President Now!, which began streaming in May, documents a 1988 protest led by students at Gallaudet University. Students at the deaf university were outraged when a new president was announced, and two deaf candidates were passed over in favor of a hearing candidate. DiMarco co-directed the film with Davis Guggenheim. DiMarco was also a producer on the project. In the caption of his Instagram post, DiMarco raved, "EMMY NOMINATED!!! DEAF HISTORY RECOGNIZED!!!" He wrote he was "So grateful. Proud. Still processing." Supporters flooded the comment section of DiMarco's Instagram post with celebratory notes. Fellow Dancing with the Stars alum and deaf actor Daniel Durant commented with a string of fire and raised hand emojis. Dancing with the Stars professional dancer Val Chmerkovskiycommented, "Amazing brother! Congrats!!!!" Someone noted that receiving an Emmy nomination had been on DiMarco's "bucket list since 1989!" A fan added, "We love you NYLE!! I followed you for more than 10 years since [America's Next Top Model] and I know that you are capable of anything!! Proud, proud, proud." DWTS Champion Overwhelmed With Gratitude and Pride After Double Emmy Nods first appeared on Parade on Jul 16, 2025 This story was originally reported by Parade on Jul 16, 2025, where it first appeared.
Washington Post
7 days ago
- General
- Washington Post
What this 100-hour undertaking shows about public spaces
Warning: This graphic requires JavaScript. for the best experience. In May and June, I spent 100 hours painting my largest mural yet — a 2,000-square-foot wall in NoMa, in what sociologists call a 'third place': a space for socializing that is neither work nor home. A map showing where the mural resides. 'Endless Summer' mural, 200 Florida Ave. NE FLA. AVENUE NE Metropolitan Branch Trail N.Y. AVENUE NW Gallaudet University NoMa Union Market Union Station D.C. National Mall U.S. Capitol Source: Google Earth 'Endless Summer' mural, FLORIDA AVENUE NE 200 Florida Ave. NE Metropolitan Branch Trail NEW YORK AVENUE NW Gallaudet University NoMa Union Market Union Station D.C. National Mall U.S. Capitol Source: Google Earth Nicknamed 'the bike lobby,' this large, roofed, open space is a public amenity that District planners required the developers to provide. The planners wanted an easy connection between Florida Avenue and the Metropolitan Branch Trail, a popular regional trail that connects the Maryland suburbs to NoMa and runs right by the site. The developers delivered by punching a corridor through their apartment building. Today, the constant foot and bike traffic through the space validates that idea. Andrea Limauro paints the 'Endless Summer' mural in NoMa. (Photos by Albert Ting) As with the spring season artwork for this series, I chose this wall for its location in relation to D.C.'s main climate risk in the summer: urban heat. The D.C. Department of Energy and Environment (where I work) projects that days in the summer with a heat index of 95 degrees Fahrenheit or above — often referred to as 'heat emergencies' — will increase up to three times by 2080. Story continues below advertisement Advertisement Because temperatures are not the same across the city — varying according to factors such as tree cover, proximity to water, topography and land use — some communities, often lower-income, experience even hotter summers. That's why I focused on Northeast Washington, where neighborhoods along the rail lines can feel up to 17 degrees hotter than the greener areas northwest of Rock Creek Park. The rail infrastructure itself contributes: Aboveground metal tracks routinely hit more than 135°F in summer (which forces trains to run slower for safety reasons) and radiate heat well into the night. The rail yards, and the industrial businesses that usually line them in cities everywhere, tend to have fewer trees and more heat-retaining surfaces such as asphalt and flat black roofs, exacerbating the urban heat island effect. Fewer trees, higher temperatures The wall's location, directly across from the busy national, regional, cargo and Metro rails in NoMa, felt perfect for this season's mural. Like the Georgetown artwork, this project also points to one of the few solutions we have to rising temperatures in dense urban areas: building more shaded third places for people to cool off. While tree cover is essential, it's not always feasible in tight urban spaces with mazes of underground infrastructure. Thus, creating shade through architectural and design solutions — from shade umbrellas and sails in parks to awnings along retail streets, to balconies in buildings — can also play a major role in cooling our cities. Explore the mural The mural depicts a large rising sun to evoke the summer heat that will replace the cool night. The landscape is an expanded view of D.C. north of Florida Avenue. The flora throughout is purposely wild as a reminder that nature will find a way to thrive. Drag to see the full on the dots to reveal details. Marvin Gaye Park This municipal park — which stretches 1.6 miles through several Northeast neighborhoods — is the city's longest. In 2006, it was renamed for the soul musician, who grew up in the area and started his career in Washington. Third places — especially when free, accessible, and welcoming — are crucial ingredients in creating real community. In a time of ever-expanding cities and deepening social disconnection, they are more important than ever. Yet they're disappearing. Urban design tactics intended to dissuade loitering and encampments end up creating unwelcoming and uncomfortable spaces for everyone. If you've struggled to find a free and comfortable place to sit in a U.S. city, this is probably why. Story continues below advertisement Advertisement This is not to say such concerns aren't legitimate. There is a housing and mental health crisis in the U.S., but poor design won't solve it. Design is not a substitute for a social programs. When we make spaces uncomfortable for some, we make them uncomfortable for all. The result is often that people with means and choices avoid these uncomfortable public spaces, which, ironically, end up being used only by the very people who were meant to be kept away. With the bike lobby, I wanted to show that the opposite approach, more equitable and democratic, should be the guiding principle for urban design: Universal comfort for all is more likely to lead to higher use and diffused ownership of the space. The mural depicts a large rising sun, along with landmarks from NoMa and communities northeast and northwest of Washington's old Boundary Street, which formed the northern boundary of the Federal City under the 1791 L'Enfant Plan. Today it's Florida Avenue. My goal was to make a space so beautiful that people would collectively care enough to maintain it. Story continues below advertisement Advertisement This is the second of four artworks Andrea Limauro is creating for his year-long 'Climate of Future Past' project about seasonal risks in four vulnerable communities around D.C. Limauro created the project in response to The Post's commission of four artworks in its 'Four Seasons' collaboration with the artist.
San Francisco Chronicle
25-06-2025
- Entertainment
- San Francisco Chronicle
‘Marlee Matlin: Not Alone Anymore' is Bay Area filmmaker's love letter to a groundbreaking actress
Marlee Matlin, the only deaf actress to win an Academy Award and still the youngest to win best actress, has a small tattoo on each wrist. One spells out 'perseverance,' the other 'warrior.' 'I'm still hustling after 37 years,' she signs with a mixture of pride and resignation as she sits in a makeup chair in the new documentary ' Marlee Matlin: Not Alone Anymore.' The film, directed by Fremont-raised Shoshannah Stern, also a deaf actress, is extraordinary not so much in its content — most of the salacious stuff, such as her abusive relationship with actor William Hurt, had been revealed in Matlin's 2009 memoir — but in its form. Through some impressive technical planning and execution, Stern and her team make each scene understandable to both deaf and hearing people through split screens and subtitles, and yet it's not cumbersome. The documentary is, in fact, fast moving and absorbing. Matlin, of course, was an unknown Chicago stage actress, still in her teens, when she was cast opposite Hurt in the 1986 film version of Mark Medoff's Broadway play 'Children of a Lesser God,' about the difficult romance between a deaf janitor and a hearing speech teacher. The film ignited debate, was a box office hit and nominated for several Oscars, with Matlin winning best actress over Jane Fonda, Sigourney Weaver, Sissy Spacek and Kathleen Turner. Overnight, she became the most visible deaf person on the planet, and with that came sudden responsibility to, as we say today, represent. She became actively involved in a movement to appoint a deaf president to lead Gallaudet University, a hearing impaired institution (an event profiled in the recent Apple TV+ documentary 'Deaf President Now!'). Matlin also led efforts to enact federal legislation mandating closed captioning on all televisions, significantly advancing accessibility for the deaf community. Matlin's motivation for the latter stemmed from her favorite movie as a young girl, the movie she credits for making her want to be an actress: 'The Wizard of Oz.' She watched the 1939 classic whenever it was on TV, and one can only imagine how, to a child who could not hear, what a bizarre dreamscape it is, like a children's film made by Fellini. The biggest celebrities who sit for Stern's camera are writer-producer Aaron Sorkin, who created a recurring role for her on his White House drama 'The West Wing,' and actor Henry Winkler, her best friend in Hollywood. How Matlin and Winkler met is truly a delightful story, and it happened when she was a teenager, way before she went to Hollywood. The cast of 'Happy Days' was to play in a celebrity softball game before a Cubs game at Wrigley Field. Matlin loved the Fonz, Winkler's signature character on the show, because he fell for a deaf woman (played by Linda Bove, a deaf actress who was a regular on 'Sesame Street') in a memorable episode. She wrote a fan letter to Winkler and invited him to a performance by her deaf children's theater troupe, and he brought the 'Happy Days' cast with him. After the messy break-up with Hurt, Winkler and his wife Stacey provided a safe haven. There are painful moments in 'Marlee Matlin: Not Alone Anymore,' and there are triumphs. But mostly, it is a film of grace and acceptance — a necessary portrait of a groundbreaking artist.
Forbes
17-06-2025
- Business
- Forbes
Communication Innovation: Sight, Sound And Touch
Hold your smartphone and consider how you interact with it: seeing the screen, speaking to others, hearing content, touching icons. But for people with sensory and physical disabilities, the worlds opened by technology can remain closed off. The companies and innovators below leverage tech in mobile phones, computers and beyond to let people communicate like never before—whether through text-to-speech (and the other way around), creating voice through eye movements, or ever-increasing other functions. When they get avatar sign-language interpreters to work, watch out. Gallaudet University's research results in practical technology that can be used by the deaf and hard of hearing. Christian Vogler directs the Technology Access Program, which helps companies make products work for that audience. "People don't want separate communication technologies that are built just for deaf and hard of hearing people," Vogler says. "We want to use the same technology that everybody else does." Google Live Transcribe for captions, downloaded by 1 billion people, is a collaborative project with Gallaudet, and Vogler's work has led to the ability to text 911 and Real Time Text transcriptions on nearly every smartphone. Melissa Malzkuhn directs the Motion Light Lab, with projects including a bilingual reading system for sign language using tablets, now boasting more than 70 storybooks, in 10 countries, downloaded about half a million times; improving sign language recognition by motion capture technology; an animated show with a signing character for YouTube Kids; and VR sign language technology and content. "It is critical to have fluent signing avatars, and that is what we have been building toward," she says. Communicating fluidly is difficult for people with ALS, cerebral palsy and other diseases that affect vocal cords and the steadiness of hands on keyboards. Irisbond creates eye-tracking systems that allow people to type and select options on Apple and Windows computers and other devices through only eye movements, and render input into controls or speech—their own, if prior recordings exist. More than 5,000 people currently use the technology, primarily in Europe. The company pushed the Spanish government to pay for this type of assistive technology for the first time, and 1,000 users there now use it for free. "We enable them to talk with the eyes," says Eduardo Jauregui, cofounder and CEO. "They can communicate independently." New AI integration makes the system predict what the user is attempting to say or accomplish, creating faster and smoother communication. Up next: Expanding into the US market, where technologies like these are often covered by Medicare, and using their eye-tracking technology to identify early warning signs of cognitive diseases. To interact with websites, documents and programs, blind people must use screen-reader software. Unfortunately, basic readers included with operating systems often don't go much beyond reading first-level text and menus, and advanced commercial screen-reader software can be expensive: up to $1,200. So blind friends Michael Curran and James Teh decided they would solve the problem by making their own more powerful screen reader and distribute it for free. "It's software that can provide independence for the blind person in terms of access to shopping and banking and socializing and email and all that stuff that we all take for granted these days," Curran says. Thus, the Australian charity NV Access and its NVDA reader for Windows were born. Today NV Access serves more than a quarter-million people worldwide in more than 60 languages and more than 170 countries, roughly splitting the market with the biggest commercial option (JAWS, whose maker Vispero is another member of the Accessibility 100). More than 200 blind and vision-impaired people work voluntarily on NVDA's open-source code. Many disabilities impede a person's brain signals from activating the muscles required for speech—cerebral palsy, Amytrophic Lateral Sclerosis and traumatic brain injury, among others. Augmentative and Alternative Communication (AAC) devices such people to create artificial speech through a tablet controlled by head movement, eyes or even blowing through a straw. (Not unlike how Stephen Hawking did, but far more advanced.) PRC-Saltillo is an AAC industry leader through hardware and software used by hundreds of thousands of people worldwide. Those whose complex speech skills are no longer accessible because of paralysis or disease can choose letters, words and phrases that are then converted into sound. For young children, who might not yet know the alphabet, screens with icons depicting water, books, emoticons and other items can allow them to communicate emotion and desire to the outside world in ways once unthinkable. To make a simple phone call, people who are deaf and hard of hearing rely on captioning services and other assistance that often require a landline. Sorenson Communications is the market leader in communication services for that scenario through assistive devices, software and video relay services that offer on-screen ASL interpretation in real time. (The company provides 600 million minutes a year of captioning alone.) Sorenson now uses VOIP internet connections, mobile apps and other modern tools; for example, a confidential pilot program with a major U.S. bank lets a customer scan a QR code and get an app that provides instant ASL interpretation for conversations with branch personnel. "The volume of the number of transactions and the amount of time far exceeded our expectations," CEO Paget Alves says. "There's a real demand for this." Next up: basic virtual ASL translation, likely in 2027. For the vast majority of people, 'point and click' means controlling a cursor via a traditional handheld mouse. But a person with paralysis, cerebral palsy or other disabilities must move that cursor through other means—like a wheelchair-mounted joystick, eye control, even subtle movements of their tongue. The global leader in Augmentative and Alternative Communication (AAC), Tobii Dynavox creates the interfaces that bring those input methods to life, often through iPads souped up by powerful software that are mounted on wheelchairs. For example, a quadriplegic can use their eyes so precisely as to type on virtual keyboards three feet away. Then, for people who cannot speak, whole sentences can be spoken in many languages and voices—sometimes the user's own, if it has been archived by another Tobii Dynavox product, Acapela. Voice recognition, which is often trained on speech from professional audiobook narrators, can provide amazing control of smart devices—unless your voice is affected by a disorder or injury. Because of this, error rates in speech recognition of compromised voices once topped 75%. To address this, Mark Hasegawa-Johnson founded the Speech Accessibility Project at the University of Illinois Beckman Institute, and collected recordings of more than 1,100 hours of speech from 1,500 voices that were compromised by Parkinson's, ALS, cerebral palsy, Down Syndrome and strokes. His new dataset has been used to knock altered-voice error rates down to 6%, and has been shared freely with 70 other research and commercial institutions, including Google, Apple, Amazon, Meta and Microsoft. "We'll distribute it under a data use agreement to anybody anywhere in the world who has a good idea for improving accessibility," he says. "The greatest barrier is simply reaching people and convincing them that they should get involved in the project." Beyond Hasegawa-Johnson's work, the University of Illinois has also long stood out as one of the top developers of Paralympic athletes and adaptive-sport research. As mentioned above, speech loss, whether caused by disability (cerebral palsy, a stutter) or illness (cancer, Parkinson's), can make it extraordinarily difficult to communicate via phone or videoconference. "People change their behavior," Whispp founder Joris Castermans says. "When you lose your voice, you ask your wife to call the hospital or make a reservation. You just don't do it anymore, because people just can't hear you." If the person can only whisper, Whispp's free AI-driven phone app takes the low-decibel, hushed words and converts them into a much louder and clearer voice. Also, if a person knows that their voice will soon be compromised (because of throat surgery, for example) Whispp allows them to store their original voice and have a version of that used forever. Launched at the 2024 Consumer Electronics Show, the Whispp app already has thousands of monthly active users.
Yahoo
23-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
A Striking Moment in American Activism
They chained the campus gates, occupied buildings, and burned effigies. They pounded on car hoods, waved hand-drawn signs, roared in rage. In the spring of 1988, students at Gallaudet University, a school for the Deaf in Washington, D.C., staged a week-long protest that drew international attention. That year, Gallaudet was on the cusp of finally appointing a Deaf president for the first time in its 104-year history, but the non-Deaf board of trustees balked, choosing a hearing person over two Deaf candidates. Though she later denied it, Jane Bassett Spilman, the board's chair, reportedly said, 'Deaf people are not ready to function in a hearing world.' Incensed, the students revolted, demanding representation. Beyond lively protests, they also organized their messaging and communicated passionately to the press. What was at first written off as mere youthful rebellion, destined to fizzle out, ultimately yielded the appointment of a Deaf president, and helped galvanize the greater movement that led to the passage of the Americans With Disabilities Act. The new Apple TV+ documentary Deaf President Now! chronicles the students' actions, which amounted to one of the most effective campus protests of the modern era. Co-directed by Davis Guggenheim (An Inconvenient Truth) and the Deaf activist, actor, and author Nyle DiMarco, the film unearths a particular period in American activism and a hinge point in Gallaudet's history, but it also doubles as an argument for thinking differently about Deafness, and disability, in general. (Guggenheim's production company, Concordia Studio, is funded by Laurene Powell Jobs and Emerson Collective, which also owns The Atlantic.) At a time when college campuses, corporations, and the U.S. government are diminishing—or even overturning—DEI initiatives, the movie's message feels especially resonant. Deaf President Now! is by no means scold-y or preachy, but it asks those who can hear to contemplate the many layers of life as a Deaf or disabled person. Layers, not Deaf, is the operative word in that sentence. The film compels viewers to reckon with what all people are owed, regardless of their bodily traits or circumstance. As its story illustrates, the disabled experience is far from cookie-cutter or one-dimensional. Deaf people want the same things that hearing people want: to be treated as full citizens, to be respected, to live their life with dignity, to have their needs understood by those in power. The week-long protest was so significant because, at its core, it demanded that hearing people see (and hear) Deaf people in an unmediated way. 'What's the microphone for?' It's a simple, profound query that one of the protest leaders poses during the present-day interviews that are interspliced with archival footage. The question is valid, given that the former Gallaudet student organizers, now nearing retirement age, address the camera by using American Sign Language. They're lively and expressive, signing with their whole body, retaining the fiery, opinionated vibe from their undergraduate days. Frequently in Hollywood, sign language is accompanied by captions, but the directors of Deaf President Now! opted to use voice-overs when the Deaf interviewees are on set. Some audience members might view this as a curious choice. A day after watching the film, I came to see it as a compelling inversion: ASL is its own language, and, for those who don't understand it—likely the overwhelming percentage of hearing people—the directors had introduced an accommodation. Watching the film, I was also struck by the sound design, which shrewdly oscillates between hearing and Deaf perspectives. There are, in the movie's opening minutes, the sonic minutiae of daily life: police sirens, a plane landing, a subway car pulling into a station, the pfffft when popping open a bottle. At other points, you see leaves rustling on campus but don't hear them scrape against the ground; when someone pulls a fire alarm, lights flash, but no sound is emitted. Crucially, though, the directors work to show that everyone inhabits the same world, just with different experiences. [Read: A disability film unlike any other] Deafness, like all disabilities, exists on a spectrum. Some people are born Deaf; others become Deaf later in life. Those who have diminished hearing may also consider themselves part of the Deaf community. Though this movie is not a history or topography of Deafness, it does examine the nuances of Deaf culture by showcasing the varied (and even contradictory) stories of how the student leaders came of age. Specifically, the film illustrates the battle between the medical and social models of disability. Under the former, Deafness would be considered an affliction to be 'cured' or 'fixed' with tools and interventions to enable a Deaf person to conform to the expectations of a hearing world. (One of the student activists, for example, recalls being pulled out of class as a kid to go to speech therapy, where he would place his hand on a teacher's nose to understand a hearing person's breath flow as they spoke certain words.) But under the social model, which has grown in prevalence in recent decades, disability is just another aspect of human existence, like someone's hair or eye color. This tension in perspective primacy permeates the film; in 1988, it undergirded the Gallaudet board's initial decision to select yet another hearing person as president. The person they chose, Elisabeth Zinser, did not know sign language. In the end, the protest arguably reached its apex not on the grounds of the school but on national television. One of the student leaders, Greg Hlibok, appeared on ABC's Nightline, opposite Zinser. Along with the Deaf actor Marlee Matlin, he made his case to the host, Ted Koppel, but also to the millions watching at home. Seeing Hlibok on-screen is especially affecting: He is young, inexperienced, and finding his way to his message in real time. He demands respect for himself and his classmates. He gets it. Zinser withdraws, and a Deaf member of the faculty, Irving King Jordan, is appointed. In some ways, it may be hard to believe that Gallaudet went so long—well more than a century—without a Deaf president, a leader who could intrinsically understand the needs and lives of the students. Although other schools for the Deaf exist, Gallaudet is unique: It draws Deaf people from all over the world and is seen as an oasis where disabled people aren't othered. I grew up several miles away from the campus, and I'm a hearing person, but I recall as a kid once having a Deaf counselor at basketball camp, someone who hooped at Gallaudet. He was smooth, fast, and confident on the court; I was young, and I remember wondering, sheepishly, how he could play the game at all if he couldn't hear the whistle. It was a question that didn't need asking; he managed just fine, and was better than other players his age. That admittedly basic concept—that Deaf people don't need hearing people worrying about or patronizing them—is one of the key themes of the film. DiMarco, the documentary's Deaf co-director, told me over Zoom that, in his first conversation with Guggenheim, he made clear that he didn't want this project 'to be framed as a story of pity.' (DiMarco signed his answers and we communicated through an interpreter.) Guggenheim didn't need convincing. He had taken a similar approach for his 2023 film Still, which follows Michael J. Fox's journey with Parkinson's disease. When making that movie, Fox told Guggenheim 'no violins'—meaning no smarm, no Hallmark-channel vibes. [Read: What Michael J. Fox figured out] Though the '88 protest happened before DiMarco was born, he knew its legacy as a child and went on to graduate from Gallaudet himself. In his adult years, he became somewhat of a familiar face after winning a season of America's Next Top Model and competing on Dancing With the Stars. Growing up, DiMarco told me, none of the Deaf characters he saw on-screen resonated with him. 'I often wondered why they couldn't get it right,' he said. 'I've really learned that the key to success in telling authentic stories is having Deaf people behind the camera.' He told me he has more than 25 extended family members who are Deaf and that no one in his family uses the term hearing impaired, which is often deemed ableist. 'I'd say probably the most prevalent misconception is that Deaf people don't carry any sense of pride,' he said. 'I think a lot of hearing people are very shocked when I say I love being Deaf,' he continued. 'I have culture, language, our community, our history. I think that's a very, very big misconception that I'm working every day to correct.' Beyond helping audiences understand some of the Deaf experience, DiMarco told me he hopes this film will resonate because of the civil disobedience at its center. Though he and Guggenheim started making the film six years ago, it's being released amid a wave of attacks against DEI initiatives. The present environment is not lost on him. 'I think today we've really forgotten how to protest,' he said. He acknowledged that he's not sure if, were the same demonstration to occur today, it would have the same outcome. But that possibility doesn't mean the fight for disabled dignity—the fight for dignity of all kinds—is any less salient. Article originally published at The Atlantic
