Do It Myself Blog – Glenda Watson Hyatt

Four years ago, on a beautiful spring day much like today, I stepped way beyond my comfort zone and ziplined above downtown Vancouver traffic. That moment has since had a ripple effect in my life.

Most unexpectedly (or, perhaps not so much if I am truly honest about it), that “stare fear in the face” moment led me to shift from consulting on web accessibility – a safe, almost expected career choice given my set of circumstances – to embracing “My Second Most Unlikely Career Choice”, that being a motivational speaker.

However, not only has the scared spitless moment had an effect, but the tower of stairs and the necessary climb have also become symbolic. Much like speaking to an audience, much effort and sweat was needed to get to that “fun, exhilarating” moment.

Since making the decision to become a motivational speaker, I have faced the toughest – emotionally and health wise – year (so far) of my adult life.

I have dealt with the illness and subsequent loss of my furbaby Faith. The gut-wrenching decision that I had to make and be present for, back on May 22nd, still haunts me. I have since discovered that grief is an extremely lonely place and needing to defend my grief, on occasion, only adds to my pain. In all honesty, I have faced several dark moments in which I felt like I was barely hanging on. I’d begin trying to claw my way back, only to lose my grip again.

Then came my Buddy boy. i can’t say for sure if I was completely ready for another furbaby at that point, but it was what the Universe had in store for me. I must have had selective amnesia from having Faith since she was 5-6 weeks old because I had totally forgotten how much work young kitties are. I have never seen a kitty decimate plants the way the Budmeister went after my spider plants and ficus tree. Darrell and I were constantly up righting the six-foot Robert Plant and cleaning up potting soil. How can one cute, adorable, affectionate kitty wreak such havoc, I do not know.

The third blow was when I went back to bed on December 14th, sick. At some point the bronchitis morphed into sinusitis. I am still not fully back to myself, even after three rounds of antibiotics and two rounds with the nebulizer, in which I was forced to face my lingering fear of the mask – a fear instilled as a child when facing the black rubber gas mask in the operating rooms. With the nebulizer, it was difficult to breathe normally while I was in panicked tears. After two rounds of three times a day for ten days, I eventually conquered my fear of that clear plastic mask, but I hope I never need to don another medicinal mask again.

I have never been sick for this long. My ears are still plugged and I am having trouble hearing. I have no energy, even with the iron pills that I started taking a  year ago.

It is difficult to be motivational when one doesn’t even feel motivated.

Back when I was discussing my career shift with business consultant and coach Charlie Gilkey, he did say that there would be challenges along the way. What an understatement that has proven to be! I did not expect these kinds of challenges. The metaphorical tower of stairs to becoming a professional speaker feels way, way taller and far more difficult than the 81 stairs I climbed four years ago.

After the last fifteen months, which ranks way up there on the “This Sucks the Big One” Scale with the year my parents separated and divorced, challenges like explaining to event organizers how someone with a significant speech impairment can deliver a presentation of high value, getting to the venues and up on stage, and having the right words to deliver the best message that I can will be a cakewalk.

Looking back, climbing those 81 stairs with support from my lifelong friend Karen and my cousin Craig, yet another realization came to mind: as a young child, I became known as the “I’ll do it myself” girl, always preferring to do things myself, in the name of independence, rather than have others help me. Somewhere along the line that independence became perceived or interpreted as a preference for working alone. Perhaps, there was some truth in that. I always dreaded group projects in school for fear I would end up doing more than my share of the work; and, that often proved to be the case.

However, now I am feeling an urge to change that. Without Karen and Craig, I wouldn’t have stepped out of my comfort zone to have experienced the zipline. It saddens me that I could be missing out on those experiences in my work life. 

i am looking around and witnessing other people, other friends, collaborating on exciting projects with others. I would like to experience that, too; working together, each contributing our own abilities and talents, n order to reach new, exhilarating heights together.

Perhaps it is now time to find opportunities to work together, to face my fears in the face and to go for it anyway. By doing so, I wonder where I might find myself four years hence.

We’re not gonna take it
No, we ain’t gonna take it
We’re not gonna take it anymore

We’ve got the right to choose and
There ain’t no way we’ll lose it
This is our life, this is our song

~ Lyrics from Twisted Sisters’ “We’re Not Gonna Take It”

Individuals with communication disabilities, which affect how we speak or understand what others are saying, typically experience inequality in employment, healthcare and numerous other situations on a daily basis. We are often treated as if we are hearing or cognitively impaired, which is not necessarily the case, and we are regularly discounted,  devalued or, even, dismissed.

Access to effective communication is a social justice issue, where social justice is defined as "… promoting a just society by challenging injustice and valuing diversity." Social justice exists when "all people share a common humanity and therefore have a right to equitable treatment, support for their human rights, and a fair allocation of community resources." In conditions of social justice, people are not “discriminated against, nor their welfare and well-being constrained or prejudiced on the basis of gender, sexuality, religion, political affiliations, age, race, belief, disability, location, social class, socioeconomic circumstances, or other characteristic of background or group membership" (Quoted from What is Social Justice?)

As an individual with a significant speech impairment, I have experienced inequitable treatment in countless ways. The most impactful have been in the areas of employment and healthcare.

It still irks a back corner of my mind that I am unemployed and surviving on social assistance because I couldn’t find an employer willing to look beyond my jerky movements and difficult-to-understand speech to give my abilities and skills a chance. Actually, it sucks the chocolate chip right out of my cookie that after five years at high school and seven years at university, working hard to keep up (and sometimes surpass) my classmates and friends, only to watch them land jobs with decent salaries, Christmas bonuses and pension plans while I’m still stuck on social assistance, labeled as unemployable. I have no doubt that my speech impairment played a huge role in acquiring that employment status, but proving it is a different matter. After all, that would have been social injustice. Discrimination, which is illegal.

Thankfully, i have found other ways to put my skills, talents and passion to use, in service of others. With perseverance and current technology, I have found a way to become a motivational speaker to share my message with audiences. (I love the irony here!)

I remain confident that my rightful compensation will eventually find its way into my bank account. And, after all of these years of un- and under-employment, that will be one juicy Christmas bonus when it finally does come.

Being self employed, I have been fortunate to surround myself with people who believe in me and who know I am capable and have much to offer. For example, in the next few weeks, I have a couple of podcast interviews. These solopreneurs are willing to give me and the technology a shot in order to share my experience, my story with their audiences.

Unfortunately, I do not have that same latitude in surrounding myself with people who believe in me when it comes to my healthcare. Oftentimes I need to deal with healthcare professionals as they come; I have very little choice. And, frankly, these “professionals” have no clue when it comes to interacting with an individual with a speech impairment or, for that matter, any disability. (Again, the irony.)

As one example (of many): on one trip to the Emergency Room when I had badly injured my foot, the nurse indicated that my husband Darrell had to go back to the waiting room because there wasn’t enough space for both of our wheelchairs.

Darrell explained that I needed him for communication purposes. But, once he relayed how the injury occurred and other necessary medical details, he was told to leave. The nurse assured him that she would come get him if he was needed. None of the other patients’ companions were forced to leave.

In that moment I wondered what were my patient’s rights. Patients who are Deaf wouldn’t (or shouldn’t) be denied access to an interpreter. Non-English speaking patients requiring a translator would definitely not be denied one; that would hit the news for sure.

Yet, I, with a significant speech impairment, was denied my means of communication. Darrell did hand me my iPad before leaving, just in case, but I wasn’t sure I could coherently type because I was in so much pain.

In this instance, I was suffering from only an injured foot. What if it had been serious or, even, life threatening? Would I have been still denied my means of communication? When my well-being or life is at stake, that is social injustice!

This needs to stop. Now. People’s well-being and lives are at stake.

For this reason and many others, Communication Disabilities Access Canada (CDAC) is launching a 2.5-year national project Communication Access Now (CAN) to promote communication accessibility for people who have speech and language disabilities.

How can you become involved?

Check out the education and resources about making goods and services accessible to people with communication disabilities. Like them on Facebook and follow them on Twitter.

If you are in Vancouver, BC, on Monday, March 17th, please join us for the Communication Access Now event – an information session and a rallying of the people. To be held at the Creekside Community Recreation Centre, 1:00-3:00pm.

“We’re not gonna take it anymore.”

Our voices will be heard. Our voices need to be heard.

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Imagine hearing a voice before seeing the individual.

Chances are you can ascertain much information about the person from the voice which is as unique as a fingerprint: the person’s rough age, usually the gender and ethnicity, as well as the individual’s emotional state and more.

Individuals can be recognized by the sound of their voice.

However, for the the hundreds of thousands of individuals with speech impairments who rely on devices to communicate, this unique sound does not exist. Rather, they rely on a limited number of synthesized voices to be their voice.

The synthesized voice used by a world-renowned astrophysicist might be the exact same voice used by a 6-year-old boy entering elementary school or, sadly, even by a 6-year-old girl. These robot-sounding voices lack uniqueness, individuality and personality.

Individuals with speech impairments who rely on communication devices cannot be recognized by the sound of their voice.

Canadian speech scientist Rupal Patel took issue with this lack of unique-sounding voices in this often-ignored segmented of the population and did something about it!

Patel, an associate professor of speech language pathology and audiology at Northeastern University in Boston, “has developed technology and algorithms that mix the voice of a speech-impaired person with that of a healthy "speech donor.” (from CBC Technology & News)

Very briefly, she takes the voice (which might be as little as a few sounds) from an individual with impaired speech (the recipient) and mixes it with the sounds of a voice donor to create a customized, synthetic voice. Her 6-year-old daughter describes it as “mixing colours to paint voices.” Only the recipient receives this voice; no one else will ever have the same synthesized voice.

Watch her TED talk where Rupal’s explains her exciting project:

(Unfortunately this video is not captioned. For more information in text format, read Everything you need to know about donating your voice: Why you should help The Human Voicebank Initiative.)

For someone who relies on a synthesized voice – the same one as heard over the PA system at the Honolulu airport – when I deliver presentations, using my own, unique voice would be beyond unbelievable! Actually, merely thinking about it brings tears to my eyes.

For more information about the project and to become a voice donor or a voice recipient, visit the website VocalIiD.org. If you have been blessed to have an understandable voice, I’d like to challenge you to become a voice donor and potentially change someone’s life.

For more of information about how I deliver motivational presentations with a synthesized voice, please visit my speaker site.

Four months ago today, Darrell and I welcomed a grey ball of energy into our home. It was love at first sight (of course!)

Buddy (aka Bud, Budmeister and Budweiser) has grown way too fast. He’d awake from a nap and seemed like he had grown yet again. He’s now a sturdy 9-10lb kitty; our stocky, muscular linebacker who is continually into everything, except when he is asleep.

There have been plant mishaps. Except for one spider baby that remains in ICU, all of the spider plants have been annihilated with potting soil scattered everywhere.

The 6-foot fig tree Robert Plant received an unplanned pot upgrade when he and Buddy tangoed and his terra cotta pot smashed. His new pot is plastic with a layer of pie plates and sticky tape to keep the Budmeister from digging in the soil.

(That space atop the wall above Robert…yeah, Buddy gets up there too, particularly when Darrell and I are in the kitchen and he has been removed from the counter too many times. Bud just likes being wherever his people are.)

In addition to being part Russian Blue, he is also part Maine Coon – indicated by his large paws and his love of water. Keeping him off of the kitchen counter would be much easier if there wasn’t a sink.

At times I am convinced Buddy is channelling his big sister Faith, who I dearly miss every day.

Buddy has not replaced Faith; no one ever will and she will remain in my heart. My baby forever.

I am beginning to learn Buddy-ese and how he communicates (a little less with his sharp teeth would be great). We have fun playing with his wand toy in the living room and the mice in the bed. When I am working, he is either on my desk or atop my bookcase; never too far. He still sleeps at the foot of the bed; hopefully that will change and he will cuddle more. He definitely knows how, particularly when he is hungry in the morning and he works his cuddly, affectionate self.

I am grateful that Buddy found his way to Vancouver Orphan Kitten Rescue (VOKRA) and then to me. I am convinced the Universe was holding onto him for me until his forever home was ready.

I am looking forward to getting to know you better and to enjoying our time together. I am glad you are home, forever, Buddy!

Dear Santa,

2013 has been a tough year for myself and several of my friends: many of us experienced heartbreaking losses, others dealt with health issues, while other friends faced disappointment and trying circumstances.

I would like to ask that my friends, near and far, receive healing and happiness.

Let 2014 be filled with hope, health and happiness. Thank you.

Wishing you and the reindeer a safe trip. Merry Christmas!

With love from, 
Glenda