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  • Day 7: Deaf Accessibility Wins – Small Gestures, Big Connections

    Recently, I had the honour of giving a speech at a high school graduation. The MLA (Member of the Legislative Assembly) was also on stage. I actually knew her from years ago — we worked together at a social services agency, where I was a case manager and she was the social worker supporting the same individual. Back then, collaborating made advocating for that person’s needs much smoother.

    It was great to see her again in a different stage of our careers, still working for the same community.

    After the speeches, as we mingled with the crowd, she came up to me and asked, “What’s the sign for ‘congratulations’?” I showed her, and she practiced it right there.

    Little things like this go a long way. When someone genuinely wants to connect by learning even a small piece of our language, it moves beyond basic “access” or “inclusion.” It becomes a real human connection — being seen, understood, and valued.

    When hearing people take the initiative to learn from us, it opens up space for Deaf and non-Deaf people to coexist more naturally and authentically.

    These small, sincere moments are powerful wins.


    What about you? Have you ever had a meaningful moment where someone made an effort to learn a bit of sign language or bridge a communication gap? How did it feel?

    Share your stories in the comments — these small wins are worth celebrating!

    See you tomorrow for Day 8!

  • Day 6: Deaf Accessibility Wins – From Nodding Hello to Real Conversations

    For years, when I walked my daughter to school, the drop-off spot was the same routine: nods, smiles, waves, and quick goodbyes. As a Deaf parent, communication barriers made anything deeper difficult. Gestures were usually the best we could do.

    This went on for weeks until some parents started learning basic signs from YouTube — “Hi, I’m Trevor. Nice to meet you. How are you? I’m fine.” It was a nice shift from pure gesturing to a mix of signs, gestures, and superficial chats about the weather.

    Of course, learning a few signs doesn’t mean full conversations. When it was my turn to respond, things would slow down. Real connection only happens when both sides can understand and express themselves comfortably.

    One day, I used VRI On-Demand at the drop-off. The parent I usually gestured with was impressed. Suddenly we could have a real conversation. I learned he was a web developer and his wife was a nurse. Word spread, and I started learning more about other parents — a home technician, landlord, construction worker, retired teacher, and several running home-based businesses.

    VRI On-Demand helped “speed up” the process of getting to know each other when communication barriers were removed. While learning ASL is valuable and takes time, tools like VRI make meaningful interactions possible right away.

    These small moments at school drop-off turned into real community connections — and that’s a beautiful accessibility win.

    What about you?

    Have you experienced a moment where better communication tools helped you connect more deeply with other parents, neighbours, or people in your community?

    Share your story in the comments!

    See you tomorrow for Day 7!

  • Day 5: Deaf Accessibility Wins – Communicating Through Windows

    Yesterday, a door-to-door sales rep came by asking about our phone and internet service. I wasn’t available to speak with him, so my spouse met him at the front door. She explained that I’m Deaf and we communicate in ASL.

    The rep was surprised — and impressed — that we could communicate clearly through the windows using sign language. My spouse stayed outside while I stayed inside working, and we were still able to have an accessible conversation.

    This is one of those small but meaningful examples of Deaf Gain — the unique advantages that come with being Deaf, such as the ability to communicate visually over distances where spoken language wouldn’t work.

    The rep was there because his company is installing fibre optic lines in our area and looking for people interested in switching for faster internet. The conversation was quick and low-pressure, and my spouse handled most of it while I jumped in when needed.

    Moments like this remind me how valuable ASL is for real-time communication. Of course, learning sign language takes time for most people. That’s where VRI On-Demand could be a game-changer — instant connection with a qualified interpreter right at the door.

    I’ll share more about my own VRI On-Demand experiences in a future post.


    What about you? Have you had a creative or unexpected accessibility win in everyday situations like this? Or what’s one small change that made communication easier for you?

    Share your stories in the comments!

    See you on Monday for Day 6!

  • Day 4: Deaf Accessibility Wins – Advocating as a Deaf Dad

    As a Deaf dad with Deaf daughters, advocacy is a constant part of life. From asking people to repeat themselves, using voice-to-text on my phone, writing notes, or requesting ASL interpreters — I’ve done it all. Advocating for interpreters is often hit-or-miss because funding isn’t always in place.

    Now that I have Deaf daughters, I’m advocating not just for myself, but for them, their Deaf friends, and other Deaf families (including hearing parents of Deaf children). The responsibility compounds.

    A Recent Win Recently, we signed our Deaf kids up for soccer. All the Deaf children ended up on the same team. The league was funded solely by registration fees, so they hadn’t planned for interpreters. We reached out to an organization that has dedicated funds reserved for ASL interpreters and connected them with the league.

    It was smooth sailing. The league coordinator was proactive, and we secured interpreters for games, wind-up events, and more. With clear communication and the right people involved, the coaches could communicate effectively with the Deaf players and parents — and vice versa.

    This experience showed me that knowing how and where to advocate makes all the difference. When the right motives, funding, and guidance come together, accessibility wins become possible.


    What about you? Have you had to advocate for accessibility in sports, school, or community activities? What worked well, or what would have made it easier?

    Share your experiences in the comments — your stories help all of us learn and grow.

    See you tomorrow for Day 5!

  • Day 3: Deaf Accessibility Wins – My First VRI On-Demand Experience

    A few weeks ago, we had severe weather — hail, pouring rain, and even a tornado warning. Many homes in the area had flooded basements because their sump pumps stopped working when the power went out. That got me thinking about home systems and accessibility.

    It reminded me of when we needed to replace our old gas-powered boiler. It wasn’t up to code, had asbestos, and the emissions made the basement unsafe for my family. We reached out to a couple of HVAC companies for quotes. When their reps came to our house, it was the first time I tried VRI On-Demand services.

    At the time, it was still a pilot project using U.S.-based interpreters. It was incredibly convenient — no need to pre-book an interpreter. When the reps arrived (often within a wide time window), I could simply connect instantly on the device. I was able to understand the product presentations, ask questions, and make informed decisions.

    That firsthand experience showed me how powerful on-demand interpreting can be for Deaf Canadians. We already have Canada VRS (free for Deaf callers, funded by the CRTC), but VRI On-Demand is different — it’s typically paid for by businesses, organizations, or healthcare providers when serving customers.

    While some VRI On-Demand services exist now, many still rely heavily on non-Canadian interpreters or mixed pools. True accessibility means having reliable Canadian ASL/LSQ interpreters available when needed.

    If you’ve used VRI On-Demand at home, work, or in public — or if this is something you’d like to see more widely available — let me know in the comments!


    What about you? Have you had a positive experience with on-demand interpreting or another accessibility tool that made life easier? Share your story below.

    See you tomorrow for Day 4!

  • Day 2: Deaf Accessibility Wins – The Power of Conversations

    Hey everyone! Welcome to Day 2 of my July 2026 series: Deaf Accessibility Wins.

    One of my favourite parts of my job every day is getting the chance to have real conversations with people who aren’t familiar with ASL or Deaf access. Even though I’m not particularly fond of the words “access” and “inclusion” (they can feel like buzzwords), they’re the terms most people know and understand.

    The reality is that society wasn’t designed or built with Deaf people in mind from the start. Too often, we become an afterthought — and accessibility becomes about patching up barriers that were there in the first place.

    Until the Accessible Canada Act (ACA) was passed in 2019, accessibility wasn’t treated as a real priority. Sure, there were some features like captions and text, but rarely proper ASL or LSQ interpretation. Then came Bill C-81, which officially recognized ASL, LSQ, and Indigenous Sign Languages as the primary languages of Deaf Canadians. Change has been happening since then — slowly but surely.

    Still, progress isn’t moving at the pace many of us hoped for. Deaf people have been communicating through sign language for generations, long before these laws existed. For many hearing people, this is still new territory, which is why Deaf access often gets de-prioritized.

    At its core, this comes down to lack of awareness.

    That’s why I genuinely enjoy these conversations — whether the person is motivated by internal values (doing what’s right) or external obligations (avoiding fines or meeting requirements). Once people become aware, educated, and empowered, those conversations turn into meaningful action. They lead to real change and new opportunities for Deaf people in government, businesses, and communities.

    These dialogues are wins in themselves — small steps that build toward bigger systemic change.


    What about you? Have you ever had a conversation that shifted your perspective on accessibility? Or what’s one thing you wish more people understood about Deaf access?

    Drop your thoughts in the comments — I read every one, and these conversations are how we keep moving forward.

    See you tomorrow for Day 3!

  • Day 1: Deaf Accessibility Wins

    Hey everyone! Welcome to Day 1 of my July 2026 series: Deaf Accessibility Wins.

    This month, I want to focus on positive stories — big and small wins in Deaf accessibility. We’ll celebrate real progress, share practical examples, and highlight what’s working so we can build on it together. In a world where we often hear about barriers, I believe it’s just as important to shine a light on the advancements and successes that are making a difference.

    Starting Personal

    For Day 1, I’ll begin with something close to home. One of the biggest wins I’ve witnessed in my own life is watching my Deaf daughters grow up with noticeably better access than I had at their age. From improved captioning on major streaming platforms to schools becoming more open to ASL support and accommodations, these changes are meaningful.

    It’s still far from perfect — there’s plenty of work left to do — but these steps forward matter. They show that progress is possible when awareness, advocacy, and action come together.

    Small Wins That Open Big Doors

    Every time a business adds quality captions, a service provider or conference host books qualified interpreters, a theatre company includes proper ASL interpretation, or a video creator makes their content accessible from the start, it opens doors for the whole community. These aren’t just nice-to-have features — they’re opportunities for Deaf people to fully participate, learn, connect, and thrive.

    These wins compound. One accessible event or product can inspire others to follow. One thoughtful accommodation can spark broader systemic change.

    Let’s Celebrate Together

    I want this series to be a space for collective encouragement. So here’s my question for you today:

    What’s one accessibility win — big or small — that you’ve seen or experienced lately?

    It could be a restaurant that handled communication smoothly, a school that embraced ASL, a video that was properly captioned, or even a personal moment where you felt truly included. Share it in the comments below!

    Let’s kick off July by celebrating progress together. Your stories and examples will help make this series richer for everyone.

    See you tomorrow for Day 2!

  • ‘Nothing About Us Without Us’: Why AI Accessibility Demands Deaf Leadership


    Author's Note

    This article was originally published on DeafDots on June 5, 2026.

    As the original author, I am republishing it here on my personal blog to make the content accessible to my audience and to continue the conversation around artificial intelligence, accessibility, and Deaf leadership.

    Original publication details:

    Title: "Nothing About Us Without Us: Why AI Accessibility Demands Deaf Leadership"

    Author: Jordan Sangalang, Local Journalism Initiative Reporter

    Originally published by DeafDots on June 5, 2026.

    The article below appears substantially as originally published, with only minor formatting adjustments made for this website.

    By Jordan Sangalang, Local Journalism Initiative Reporter

    As artificial intelligence rapidly embeds itself into Canadian infrastructure—influencing everything from automated workplace tools to emergency alert systems—advocates warn that a major digital divide is forming. Without deliberate intervention, the technology risks leaving behind millions of disabled Canadians.

    Jeffrey Beatty, Chairperson of the Deaf Wireless Canada Consultative Committee (DWCC), is stepping forward to outline the immense opportunities and steep systemic risks AI introduces to the daily lives of Deaf, DeafBlind, and Hard of Hearing (DDBHH) Canadians.

    Speaking strictly from a public accessibility policy perspective, Beatty emphasizes that the rise of AI is fundamentally shifting the landscape of human rights and communication access.

    “For Deaf, DeafBlind, and Hard of Hearing Canadians, this is not just a technology issue,” Beatty states. “It is an accessibility, language, and rights issue.”

    A Tool for Efficiency, Not an Authority

    In his daily policy and advocacy work, Beatty actively leverages AI tools. He uses them to process large quantities of public information concerning telecommunications, regulatory captioning requirements, and digital services.

    “They help me organize information, summarize long documents, improve writing clarity, prepare notes, and compare complex public information,” Beatty explains. He views the technology as a valuable asset for parsing dense, multi-layered regulatory frameworks.

    However, Beatty is quick to draw a hard line between a tool that assists human capability and one that replaces it.

    “I do not treat AI as the final authority. AI can make mistakes, miss context, or give information that sounds confident but is wrong. AI supports the work. It does not replace DDBHH people.”

    For Beatty, the final judgment on any policy piece must remain rooted in human expertise, community accountability, and the lived realities of the DDBHH community.

    The Limitations of Text and Audio-Centric Design

    While text-generation models can streamline administrative tasks or translate complex legalese into plain language, Beatty notes that current mainstream AI design suffers from a deep-seated auditory bias.

    “My biggest concern is that many AI tools are still built around hearing people, speech, audio, and written English,” Beatty says. This structural bias means that users of American Sign Language (ASL), Langue des signes québécoise (LSQ), and Indigenous Sign Languages (ISLs) are frequently excluded or fundamentally misunderstood by modern algorithms.

    True communication access extends far beyond basic English text transcription. Sign languages are distinct, complete languages featuring complex spatial structures and cultural nuances.

    “Many Deaf people use ASL, LSQ, or ISLs which include visual grammar, facial expression, movement, space, and culture. AI tools must respect that,” Beatty says. He notes that poorly trained models regularly generate inaccurate captions, broken translations, or digital avatars that completely fail to replicate real sign language syntax.

    Furthermore, Beatty highlights serious emerging risks regarding data sovereignty, consent, and safety. Because sign languages are inherently visual, training AI translation tools requires vast amounts of video data—raising critical concerns about personal privacy, digital identity ownership, and the targeted misuse of deepfake technology.

    A Vision for Deaf-Led Governance

    To prevent these technologies from further marginalizing communities, Beatty calls for a complete overhaul of how accessibility is handled in tech development. Historically, accessibility features have been treated as an afterthought—tacked onto a product right before release.

    Beatty argues that the DDBHH community must be structurally integrated into the entire lifecycle of AI development, moving from passive consumers to systemic leaders.

    “In the future, I hope DDBHH Canadians are not only users of AI,” Beatty shares. “We should be leaders, testers, researchers, educators, policy advisors, and decision-makers.”

    The ultimate goal is to see AI safely deployed to improve automated captioning accuracy, strengthen localized emergency communications, and lower barriers to public services—but strictly under a framework of cultural respect and Deaf-led governance.

    “My hope is simple,” says Beatty. “AI should not speak for DDBHH people. AI should support DDBHH people, with DDBHH leadership built in from the start.”

    Watch the full video interview below to hear Jeffrey Beatty’s complete perspective on AI policy and accessibility in Canada:

    Play Video Interview.
    Note: Video will pop up when pressing ‘Play’

    Have Your Say

    How is artificial intelligence affecting your daily access to services, employment, or education? Should the Canadian government mandate disabled and Deaf leadership when setting national AI accessibility standards?

    Leave your thoughts and experiences in the comments section below.


    About This Article

    This article was originally reported and written by Jordan Sangalang and first published by DeafDots on June 5, 2026. It is republished here by the author to support ongoing discussions about AI accessibility, Deaf leadership, and inclusive technology policy in Canada.

  • Protecting Kids Online

    Why the Conversation About Social Media and Youth Needs More Nuance

    Canada is taking a significant step toward addressing online safety for children.

    This week, the federal government is tabling legislation that would ban social media platforms from allowing Canadian children under the age of 16 to create and maintain accounts. Under the proposed online safety bill, technology companies could apply for exemptions if they can demonstrate that their platforms meet strict safety standards designed to protect young users.

    The legislation would also establish new responsibilities for AI chatbots, requiring safeguards and accountability measures to reduce potential harms to children and youth. The proposal comes after years of advocacy from child safety organizations and growing concerns about cyberbullying, online exploitation, harmful content, and the impact of social media on youth mental health.

    The conversation is not limited to Ottawa. Here in Manitoba, Premier Wab Kinew has also expressed support for restricting social media access for children under 16, reflecting a broader national discussion about how best to protect young people in an increasingly digital world.

    As a parent, I understand why governments are paying attention.

    Every day, children interact with platforms designed by some of the most sophisticated technology companies in the world. These companies invest billions of dollars into creating products that keep users engaged, scrolling, watching, clicking, and returning. Parents often feel as though they are competing against systems specifically designed to capture and hold their children’s attention.

    There is no question that online safety deserves serious attention.

    But as a Deaf parent raising Deaf children, I believe there is another side of this conversation that deserves equal consideration.

    The Internet Was More Than Entertainment for Me

    When I was growing up, the internet was not simply a source of entertainment.

    It was a gateway to a world that often felt out of reach.

    As a Deaf youth living in Winnipeg, my opportunities to connect with other Deaf peers were naturally limited. While Winnipeg has a strong Deaf community, it is considerably smaller than those found in larger cities such as Toronto or Vancouver. The reality was that there were only so many Deaf youth my age that I could meet and interact with locally.

    The internet changed that.

    Long before smartphones and today’s social media platforms, I spent countless hours in chatrooms, instant messaging services, and early social networking websites such as AIM, MySpace, Friendster, and AsianAvenue.

    Those platforms gave me opportunities that extended far beyond socializing.

    They helped me improve my literacy and English communication skills. They exposed me to pop culture, current events, and trends happening outside of Winnipeg. They allowed me to participate in conversations with people from different backgrounds and experiences. Most importantly, they connected me with friends across Canada and the United States.

    Those interactions helped build my confidence and gave me a stronger sense of belonging in a world that often felt inaccessible.

    Looking back, those online connections played a meaningful role in my personal growth and development.

    What About Deaf Children Today?

    This is why I believe we need to be careful when discussing blanket restrictions on social media access for young people.

    For many Deaf children living in rural communities or areas with limited resources, online platforms can serve a much larger purpose than entertainment or casual socializing.

    They can be critical tools for identity development, language access, peer connection, mentorship, and community building.

    Imagine being a Deaf child living in a small town where you are the only Deaf student in your school. You may rarely, if ever, have the opportunity to interact with another Deaf child your age. You may not have easy access to Deaf role models, mentors, or a larger Deaf community.

    Online communities can help bridge that gap.

    They can provide opportunities to connect with other Deaf youth, learn from Deaf adults, explore Deaf culture, access information, and develop a stronger sense of identity and belonging.

    For some children, these online spaces are not simply optional social networks. They are lifelines to a broader community that may not exist in their immediate environment.

    That reality should be part of the conversation.

    The Problem Isn’t Simply Access

    At the heart of this debate is a larger question.

    Is the issue that children have access to social media?

    Or is the issue that social media platforms have not done enough to create safe environments for children?

    I believe the answer is the latter.

    Technology companies control the algorithms that determine what content children see. They design the features that encourage prolonged engagement. They decide how recommendations work, how safety tools are implemented, and how harmful content is moderated.

    Parents certainly have a responsibility to guide and monitor their children’s online experiences.

    But it should not be the sole responsibility of parents to outsmart systems intentionally designed to maximize engagement.

    When policymakers discuss protecting children online, accountability should not rest entirely on families.

    Technology companies must also be held accountable for the products they create.

    What Real Protection Should Look Like

    If social media companies want exemptions under Canada’s proposed legislation, the standards should be meaningful.

    Success should not be measured solely by whether a platform can verify a user’s age.

    Success should be measured by outcomes.

    Are children safer?

    Are cyberbullying rates decreasing?

    Are harmful content recommendations being reduced?

    Are vulnerable youth being protected from exploitation?

    Are platforms designing products that prioritize wellbeing instead of engagement at all costs?

    These are the questions that matter.

    A social media ban may sound protective, but if children easily find ways around restrictions while harmful platform designs remain unchanged, we have not solved the underlying problem.

    The goal should be to make online spaces safer, not simply harder to access.

    A Balanced Approach

    I support efforts to protect children online.

    As a parent, I want my children to be safe from harmful content, cyberbullying, exploitation, and addictive platform designs.

    At the same time, I do not want us to overlook the positive role that online communities can play, particularly for children who face barriers to communication, connection, and belonging.

    For Deaf youth, online platforms can provide opportunities that may not exist locally. They can foster friendships, build confidence, strengthen communication skills, and connect children to communities that help shape their identity.

    As Canadians debate the future of social media regulation, I hope we avoid framing this issue as a simple choice between unrestricted access and outright bans.

    The real challenge is creating digital environments that are both safe and meaningful.

    Protecting children online is important. But true protection requires more than legislation alone. It requires technology companies to take responsibility for the environments they create, policymakers to consider the diverse needs of young people, and parents to remain engaged in their children’s digital lives.

    As a Deaf parent, I want my children to have the same opportunities for connection, learning, and growth that helped shape my own journey.

    The challenge before us is finding a way to preserve those opportunities while ensuring that children can explore the online world safely.

    That is a goal worth pursuing.

  • Why Deaf Travelers Still Face ‘Deer in Headlights’ Moments at Airports in 2026

    One of my recent trip to the airport felt a little different—not truly unusual, but I’ve grown comfortable arriving much closer to departure time than recommended. This time, I got there less than 30 minutes before takeoff. After picking up the kids from school, we headed straight there.

    As a Deaf traveler, I’ve learned to assume that no one at the airport knows ASL. So, I proactively let people know I’m Deaf at every step. It starts right after showing my boarding pass, when I’m directed to the right security line. As I move forward in the queue, I prepare to remove my boots, jacket, carry-on items, laptop, and liquids (in a clear plastic bag).

    When I reach the TSA officer, they usually say something, and I respond by signing and gesturing that I’m Deaf. They often ask to see my boarding pass again to scan it. Then I walk through the full-body scanner and wait for my belongings to come through.

    After clearing security, I head directly to my gate with my boarding pass and ID ready. Near the gate, I let the flight attendant know I’m Deaf. Once onboard, I settle into my seat and stay alert to see if anyone sits next to me.

    Flight attendants sometimes approach to speak to me. If I’m reading or focused elsewhere, other passengers might glance over, signaling that someone’s trying to get my attention. I let the attendant know I’m Deaf again. The reaction is almost always the classic “deer in headlights” look—wide eyes and a frozen expression.

    I quickly pull out my phone, turn on the voice-to-text feature, and hand it over. They usually ask awkwardly, “Is there anything I can help you with?” I respond with two thumbs up, a friendly smile, and a nod to reassure them I’m all set and will ask if I need anything. (I could joke, “How about a back massage?”—but that might make things even more awkward!)

    Then the plane taxis to the runway and takes off.

    However, the day doesn’t end at takeoff—or even at landing. When I arrived, it was evening and cold outside. Knowing I’d be hungry and tired by the time I reached the hotel, I decided to grab takeout first.

    At the restaurant, I gestured with a smile while waiting for the cashier. She looked tired—probably near the end of her shift. When I signed that I was Deaf, she seemed surprised, just like so many others. I paid, then hopped into an Uber.

    The driver turned out to be hard of hearing too. When I let him know I was Deaf, he lit up with an “Oh!” and pointed to his ear, gesturing “so-so” to indicate his own hearing level. The ride to the hotel was quiet (pun intended). When we arrived, I signed “thank you,” and he smiled back warmly.

    I walked into the hotel lobby and approached the front desk to check in. Once again, I gestured that I was Deaf. After a short wait, I received my key card and headed to the elevator.

    As I stood there, a man joined me and gave a polite smile. I didn’t realize he’d said something, so I smiled back and signed “Good evening.” He immediately understood I was Deaf. We stepped into the elevator together, rode up in comfortable silence, and parted ways on our respective floors.

    Finally, I reached my room, settled in, and that’s how I ended my long day.

    These moments—from the surprised cashier to the kind Uber driver who “got it,” the polite elevator exchange, and finally unwinding in the room with takeout—show how the communication dance continues long after the plane lands. It’s exhausting at times, but I do wonder what if these encounters can be more than just gestures but have these small talks and conversations.

    What do you think?