Morrison’s Space: A DeafBlind Activist

March 29, 2026

By Morrison

For more than three decades, the Americans with Disabilities Act, ADA, has been upheld as the gold standard of disability rights. And in many ways, it was groundbreaking. But here we are in 2026, and far too many states, agencies, and employers are still operating as if it is 1990, applying the ADA through outdated assumptions, outdated frameworks, and outdated interpretations that have never reflected the realities of DeafBlind people.

The result is predictable. DeafBlind people are consistently left out, misunderstood, last to be included, or forced into systems that were never built for us. And the truth is uncomfortable for many institutions to admit. The ADA, as commonly interpreted and implemented, does not meet the needs of the DeafBlind community. It is uncomfortable because many do not understand our community’s needs, and they have never bothered to learn from us, the primary source. This is where against access comes to play here – as an irony, as many are against reforming or amending the policies that prevent our DeafBlind community from access. 

The Core Problem, DeafBlind Is Still Not Seen as Its Own Community

Too many decision makers continue to dump DeafBlind people into either the Deaf category or the Blind category, as if DeafBlindness is simply one or the other – not its own category. This erases the fact that DeafBlind people form a distinct cultural and linguistic community with our own communication modalities, needs, and safety considerations.

I experienced this firsthand when I sought Vocational Rehabilitation (VR) services in New York. I initially went to the Deaf division of ACCESS VR because my primary language at the time was ASL (American Sign Language), and I wanted direct communication with a VR counselor who’s deaf. But because I was also legally blind, I was immediately dismissed and told to seek services from the Blind division.

When I arrived at the New York State Commission for the Blind (NYSCB) the services were strong and supportive, but the intake process was daunting. The NYSCB VR counselor, who’s hearing sighted, repeatedly asked whether I identified as blind first or deaf first. At the time, I said deaf, because I had only recently learned I was DeafBlind and did not yet know the term DeafBlind existed (but even this VR counselor did not acknowledge this term). The counselor became frustrated, insisting that I had to identify as blind first because, in this department’s view, blindness was the barrier preventing me from doing what sighted people could do.

I left the table in tears as he left the room annoyed. The interpreter sat silently across from me, unsure how to respond. It was awkward. The VR counselor came back into the room and once more explained that in order to get services from this division, I have to identify as blind first as being deaf was not preventing me from getting work, but being blind did. Eventually, I conceded and identified as blind first, not because it reflected my identity, but because the system required it, and did not recognize “deafblind,” nor acknowledge that being deaf equally have its challenges as the blind community does. Today, the system is still broke as to many still do not understand how to serve someone who is both deaf and blind – deafblind.

This is what systemic erasure looks like.

It shows up everywhere:

• Agencies default to Deaf and Hard of Hearing frameworks
• Agencies default to Blind frameworks
• Employers rely on Blindness or Deafness oriented accommodations
• ADA units assume DeafBlind people can use whatever works for other groups
• Policymakers write laws that ignore tactile language entirely
• Communities that fight for new house bills don’t include DeafBlind in the equation

When DeafBlind people are not recognized as a standalone community, our needs are treated as optional, preference, unusual, or too specialized. But they are not optional. They are not a preference, They are not unusual. They are not specialized.

They are basic needs – as a human right.

The ADA is Still Treated as a Building Code, and its Communication Rights are Narrowly Interpreted

Walk into any state or medical building and you will see the ADA proudly on display:

• Ramps
• Elevators
• Automatic door openers
• Wide hallways
• Accessible bathrooms

These features matter. They are essential for many people, but this is where most agencies stop. They treat ADA compliance as a physical accessibility checklist, and when they do consider communication rights, they interpret them through a narrow and outdated framework.

The ADA does recognize communication access as a civil right. Many states and agencies understand this in the context of Deaf and Hard of Hearing communities who use ASL or those who use spoken languages other than English. They are familiar with visual-based sign language interpreters, captioning, CART, and assistive listening devices. What they do not recognize is that DeafBlind people often rely on entirely different communication modalities, including Protactile or generalized tactile language. These are not specialized, a preference, or optional services. They are primary languages and an essential part of our communication.

For DeafBlind people, the typical ADA communication responses, such as visual ASL interpreters, CART, or audio announcements, do not address:

• How we access information tactually
• How we communicate in real time
• How we navigate safely in unfamiliar environments
• How we participate equally in meetings, appointments, services, and public life

Here’s an expanded and strengthened version that incorporates the new elements you described. I wove them in so the narrative flows naturally and highlights the systemic failure, the emotional impact, and the physical disorientation caused by being paired with an interpreter who is untrained and unprepared.

Imagine this…

You arrive for an appointment expecting a Protactile interpreter or at least someone trained in DeafBlind interpreting. Instead, an ASL interpreter approaches you, visually, from a distance, they wave. They wave again. You can sense immediately that something is off. Then come right in front of you ane wave in your face. Their movements are awkward, hesitant, unsure. They take your hand awkwardly to say something, but then let go. Then take it again. Then let go again and step back out of reach. Nothing is grounded. Nothing is steady. Nothing resembles Protactile communication.

You try to establish contact, but they keep stepping back, now standing too far for you to reach them, signing somewhere in the air where you have no access. You’re left reaching into empty space, trying to locate their hands, trying to anchor the conversation, trying to create a channel that they don’t know how to maintain. Then they say it, non-apologetically: “I’m not comfortable tactiling with you. They (the agency) didn’t tell me that I’d be working with a DeafBlind person. The agency never warned me.” This interpreter clearly had no preparation, no training, no expectation that tactile language would be required.

So now you’re sitting there with an interpreter who is physically present but functionally unavailable. They stay at a distance, out of reach, out of contact, out of alignment with your communication needs. They keep forgetting to stay close enough for you to touch their hands. They keep slipping away, leaving you to chase fragments of movement and broken attempts at access… The meeting begins. People talk. Chairs shift. Someone enters. Someone leaves. Papers shuffle. A laugh erupts across the room. You feel the vibrations but have no access to the meeting, the environment, nothing. The interpreter tries to “interpret,” but without tactile language skills, everything becomes incomplete – bits of motion, inconsistent touch, gestures that never land. 

You ask for clarification. They pull away again. They sign visually, using air space again. They “forget” again and again. They try tapping your arm to sign, or grab  your hand to sign, but nothing is grounded, nothing is intentional, nothing is Protactile. You’re left carrying the burden of teaching them how to work with you while also trying to participate in the meeting itself.

Meanwhile, the conversation continues without you. Decisions are made. Information moves around the room. People assume you’re included because “an interpreter is here” and you’re physically there. But you’re not included. You’re not oriented. You’re not informed. You’re not part of the room, not part of the meeting.

You’re simply sitting there, physically present, but linguistically and socially isolated because the system sent an interpreter who knows ASL but not tactile language, not Protactile, not DeafBlind interpreting. And once again, you’re forced to navigate a world that assumes ASL access is enough, even when it leaves you completely in the dark.

So while the ADA contains communication rights, the way those rights are implemented is still rooted in a visual, hearing centric understanding of disability. DeafBlind communication is often misunderstood, treated as an exception, or left out entirely. The result is that DeafBlind people are told the ADA has been followed, even when we cannot access the information, the environment, or the interaction at all.

Transportation, The ADA Says Accessible, But DeafBlind People Are Still Stranded

States often point to paratransit as proof that transportation is accessible. But paratransit is not designed for DeafBlind people.

A DeafBlind person going to a doctor’s appointment needs:

• Communication access
• Environmental information
• Navigation support
• Safety support
• Real time tactile updates

Paratransit drivers are not trained to provide any of this. They are not trained communication professionals. They are not mobility guides nor are adequately trained to be one. They are not responsible for ensuring the DeafBlind passenger receives information in a way they can access – such as ensuring they are safely at their designation (which could be a suite in a building or a medical building). 

Imagine this…

You’re standing outside your home, waiting for your paratransit ride. A van pulls up, but you have no way of knowing if it’s the right one. The driver calls out, but you don’t hear them. You’re still standing there, unsure. The driver becomes irritated, steps out, grabs your arm without warning, and startles you. They say something you can’t hear, unaware that you are DeafBlind.

Without confirming who you are or offering any accessible communication, they begin guiding (really pulling on your arm) you toward the van. You’re forced into a seat, thinking, “I hope this is actually my paratransit driver.” The door slams shut. The engine starts. The van moves.

Then, without explanation, the driver makes an unexpected stop to pick up another rider. The door opens, someone gets in, the door closes again. You have no access to who is in the vehicle with you, what is happening around you, where you are on the road, or what stop is next. You’re simply being moved through the world without information, without orientation, without communication.

Eventually, the van stops again. The door opens. The driver grabs your arm and yanks, signaling you to get out. You step onto a sidewalk. The driver gestures vaguely, then leaves.

Now you’re alone, trying to figure out which direction to go. You sweep your mobility cane, searching for clues. You find a building, feel its structure, but you’re not sure if it’s the right one. You go inside. It isn’t. You step back out and begin the process again, trying to locate the place you were supposed to be taken to in the first place.

This is exactly why CoNavigator (CN) services, formerly known as Support Service Providers, SSPs, exist. Yet many states refuse to recognize CNs as an ADA covered accommodation, even though they directly support:

• Communication
• Orientation
• Mobility
• Safety
• Independence

A DeafBlind person cannot hear or see when a bus is coming. They cannot see the stop. They cannot hear the announcement. They cannot communicate with the driver.

But because the ADA’s transportation framework has not evolved since 1990, states pretend the problem does not exist.

Interpreter Credentialing, A System Built for Visual ASL, Not Tactile Language

Another major barrier is the interpreter credentialing system.

Most states require interpreters to be:

• RID certified, or
• BEI certified

But these certifications measure visual ASL, using airspace, not tactile language, not Protactile, not close vision interpreting, and not DeafBlind cultural competency.

A Deaf interpreter (an interpreter who is deaf) who is deeply skilled in tactile communication may be far more qualified to work with DeafBlind individuals than a certified hearing interpreter, yet the state will reject them because they lack the right credentials, and are not certified. This is not about quality control. This is about a system that refuses to evolve and recognize another community’s linguistic needs.

The result:

• DeafBlind people are denied interpreters who can actually communicate with them
• Agencies claim they are following the law
• The law is interpreted through a 1990 lens that never included tactile language

And now, new legislation in some states is making this even worse, tightening credential requirements in ways that restrict access rather than expand it.

The ADA Was Never Meant to Be Frozen in Time

The ADA was written before:

• Protactile language existed
• CoNavigator services existed*
• Modern tactile interpreting standards existed
• Smartphones existed
• GPS existed
• Digital communication existed

Yet states continue to apply the ADA as if none of these developments matter. The DeafBlind community has a national identity – DeafBlind, but it has historically been erased over and over again. 

On a brief note, while the concept of practice of CoNavigating is new, this evolved from a former service called, Support Service Provider (SSPs). SSPs were formed in the 1980’s, that made up of a group of volunteers who would volunteer to “support” deafblind individuals. 

Where We Go From Here

The DeafBlind community deserves:

• Recognition as a distinct cultural and linguistic community
• Access policies that reflect tactile language and DeafBlind communication
• Statewide CN and SSP programs that are funded, standardized, and protected
• Interpreter standards that measure tactile competency, not just visual ASL
• ADA units trained in DeafBlind access, not just ramps and elevators
• Legislation that expands access, not restricts it

The ADA is supposed to guarantee equal access, not 1990 level access. The ADA must evolve, not through rewriting the law, but through modern interpretation, modern policy, and modern understanding.

Access is not just a ramp, a door button, a checkbox.

Access is communication, is safety, is inclusion. 

Access is DeafBlind people being able to live, work, travel, and engage with the world on equal and equitable terms.

And yet, here we are in 2026, we are still fighting for what the ADA promised in 1990.