Chicago Adventures: Evening at the Art Institute of Chicago

The view from the Nichols Bridgeway outside the Art Institute of Chicago.

Since I moved to Chicago, I've been amazed at all the cultural opportunities that have opened up as far as accessibility goes. Sure there have been a few roadblocks, like last year's impasse with Social Media Week Chicago, but they only serve to make me more determined. 

Looking back over the past several decades, the positive changes are impressive. There's video relay service, texting, captioning devices at the movie theater, and many other technological advances. I often wonder where I would be today if only these had been available when I was in high school, college or even the first several years of my professional life. 

Here in Chicago, I've been able to participate in a lot of new experiences, and one of those just happened last week. I've gone to the Art Institute of Chicago several times, but have never gone on a guided tour or lecture. Last week I got to go on a Sign Language Gallery Talk at the Art Institute. 

The tour was presented by a deaf graduate student in American Sign Language and voice interpreted. This was the third in a series, but the first one I was able to attend. It was, in a word, amazing! It was refreshing to be able to interact directly with the speaker and not receive the information secondhand. If I wanted to ask a question, I could -- and I didn't have to worry about being behind in the conversation or misunderstanding something. Communication was easy -- something many people take for granted but I usually have to work hard at every day. 

The first stop on the sign language gallery talk:
Woman Reading in a Garden by Mary Cassatt.

I'm already looking forward to the next gallery talk, which is tentatively set for the fourth Thursday in April. Noel King, the graduate student who presents the talk, is graduating in May but the Art Institute hopes to continue the gallery talks if there is enough interest.     

Noel King talking about Sky Above Clouds IV by Georgia O'Keeffe
(Not the best photo -- I was engrossed in the lecture &
didn't pay much attention to the photos I was taking.)

A slice of the museum--love the architecture
almost as much as the art! 

Weekend Adventures: Open House Chicago

My first stop: The Metropolitan Club on the 67th floor of Willis Tower. This private business club offered amazing views of the city, even though it was a gray, rainy day.

I spent the better part of Saturday hustling from one location to another in the Loop as part of Open House Chicago. It was a great experience, and I'm already making plans for next year. OHC is a 2-day architecture festival that offers the general public access to over 150 buildings throughout Chicago. Presented by the Chicago Architecture Foundation, the event allows curious people like me to go inside private clubs, libraries, hotels, skyscrapers, offices, places of worship, residential buildings, theaters, and more -- all for free, and most allowed photography. While it's not limited to the downtown area -- Chicago is full of culturally and architecturally rich neighborhoods -- I chose to stick to the Loop this year.

 I'm still relatively "new" to Chicago (my 3-year anniversary is sneaking up soon!), and always discovering new things about the city -- and OHC was a great way to learn and see even more. While architecture and indoor photography are not my forte -- I don't have a passion for them like I do with nature and landscapes -- I jumped at the chance to explore some new places and get access to the top floors of some skyscrapers. 

One of the best things about the day was how "small" Chicago has become for me, thanks to the Instagram community. I ran into people I knew at almost every venue -- and even at a busy intersection on Wacker Drive. 

I did not plan very well for my tour in the Loop on Saturday. Now that I've experienced OHC once, I have a better idea of what to expect, which types of places are good to go to, and how to plan my day better. My first mistake was thinking it was a good idea to walk all the way from Willis Tower (AKA Sears Tower) to the Godfrey Hotel in River North. Poor planning. I smartened up and took a taxi back to the Magnificent Mile. That was the best $7 (including tip) I ever spent.

The rooftop lounge at the Godfrey Hotel offered a view of Willis Tower. YES, I walked all the way from Willis Tower. I logged more than 7 miles on my Fitbit!

Almost eye-to-eye with Ceres on the Board of Trade building. Viewed from The Library on the 40th floor of 190 S. LaSalle.

My day was not without its usual comedy. As a deaf person, I'm usually careful about paying attention to what I am allowed to do in certain places. In the case of OHC, I paid attention to which spots allowed photography and which ones didn't (the OHC program had icons where photography was not allowed, and there were *usually* signs in the buildings). 

However. I did have a little run-in at the 190 South LaSalle skyscraper. After venturing back down from the 40th-floor library, I was admiring the gold-leaf ceiling in the lobby and decided to take an Instagram snap. Apparently, this was a big no-no, because a security guard (or some such official person) came rushing up to me. He had probably called out and/or yelled at me to no avail first, since I take a while to set up my shots. Ugh. It was a scene, as there was a line in the lobby; I'm sure people thought I had ignored his initial request to not take photos ("What's wrong with her, is she deaf?" Yep. Actually, I am.). I apologized and got out of there pretty quickly. 

Inside The Library of 190 S. LaSalle. 

Willis Tower -- and the neat light fixtures of The Library reflected in the windows.

My next stop was the Federal Reserve Bank of Chicago, just up the street.  I set off the alarm at the security scan, thanks to my cochlear implant and had to be wanded, which rattled me even further, so I ended up not taking a single photo there.  Such a shame, as the Great Hall was a beautiful space.

Looking through the hashtags #igc_ohc2014 and #ohc2014 on Instagram after the event, I'm blown away by many of the photos! If you get a chance, go check them out. I promise you won't be disappointed; there were over 1,800 photos tagged. The IgersChicago group will be announcing the winner of the hashtag contest tonight -- the winner receives a $100 gift card and membership to the Chicago Architecture Foundation. I'm curious to see who wins -- the competition is pretty fierce.


If you get a chance to go to OHC, GO. You don't have to be an architecture or photography buff. At a lot of the sites, I just ended up wandering around admiring the views. 

View from The Kemper Building's 41st floor observation deck. I gave up trying to get a good shot out the window and settled for a reflected selfie instead.

Somewhat decent shot from the Kemper!

Next year's dates have already been announced: October 17-18, 2015. I've got it marked on my calendar, and I've got a couple places marked up on my program so I remember the "must-visit" sites for 2015! 

Traveling Westward

Tiny City: View of San Francisco from the prop plane. 

I've found there are a few advantages to being deaf when traveling. Sure, it can be a hassle dealing with communication breakdowns, and I'm always a little afraid I'm going to get plowed down by one of those souped-up golf carts because I usually can't hear their warning 'ding' as they hurtle up the concourse behind me. (I heard it just fine this time because I had my cochlear implant on! That subject is another post for another day.)

For all the things I have to "put up" with as a deaf person, I've learned to take full advantage of the perks when they are available -- and not feel guilty about it. Take my departure from Chicago O'Hare on United Airlines to San Francisco. Instead of being "on alert," watching people, and trying to figure out when I was supposed to board the plane, I went up to the gate agent and asked if she could let me know when I could board. Instead, she told me I could pre-board, and I was the first person to set foot on the plane. 

Not fair, you say? Try this on for size: Go to the airport with your ear buds in and music turned on full blast and see how well you can function. You'll miss gate change announcements; try to board at the wrong time and sometimes be asked to wait and board with the right group (it's happened!); walk through TSA and not be able to tell whether or not you set off the alarms (and try not to make TOO much eye contact at the same time); stand in the bookstore with a backpack on, blocking an entire aisle and be engrossed in a dust cover while a ticked-off person stands behind you repeatedly asking you to please move -- and when you finally feel their presence, you feel like a complete loser. Once you get on the plane, keep them on. You'll miss the announcements about flight delays, when you can turn your electronics back on, and notifications of upcoming turbulence (that's an especially fun one to miss out on). I could keep going, but you get the idea.

Rainy skies at O'Hare

On my flight from O'Hare to San Francisco, there was a delay. Or maybe more than one? I have no idea what the holdup was, but we sat at the gate way past our departure time, then on the runway a while longer. All I could think about was that I was going to miss my connecting flight in San Francisco. 

What made it funny (ok, not funny for anyone else) was that there was a crying, screaming toddler in the seat behind me. I probably would not have noticed it if Cute Guy in the seat next to me hadn't pointed it out with his uncomfortable body language and pointed looks over his shoulder. Or if several other passengers hadn't turned their heads to look in my direction, making me wonder what was going on behind me. I probably didn't help Cute Guy's displeasure much by telling him I couldn't hear a thing (I'd switched my implant off by this time, since the airport din had overwhelmed me). For once, it was nice to be oblivious.

When we landed in San Francisco I had a negative amount of minutes to grab my bag and run to my connection. Eleven gates away seems like an eternity, especially when you have to pee. Somehow, I made it -- and in the end, I could have just walked because the flight was delayed. It was pretty neat to fly on a prop plane!

Prop plane that was my transportation from SFO to Crescent City, California

My seat was next to the propeller, which I am sure was very loud, just based on the vibrations. I saw the flight attendant pop in some earplugs before takeoff. The views were great! I even got a glimpse of the remote St. George Reef Lighthouse as we went in for our landing. This lighthouse was first lit in 1891 and is not accessible to the public because of its hazardous location six miles offshore. 

St. George Reef Lighthouse

More photos & stories to come! These are just plane window photos. I was in awe all week, walking through the groves of redwoods, watching the Pacific Ocean, and even  a bonus trip to Crater Lake National Park. 

Stay Positive

Starting the week off with a dose of positive: 

There is little difference in people, but that little difference makes a big difference. The little difference is attitude. The big difference is whether it is positive or negative. 
W. Clement Stone

(My One Little Word for 2014 is Positive.)

It can be hard to stay positive when you're around people who have phrases like "you can't," "that would never work," and "it's too hard to do it that way,"  embedded in their vocabulary -- and then don't understand why you disagree. 

I had a conversation full of those words at a Deaf event Friday night. I won't go in to details -- they aren't the point. The point is that your attitude does indeed make a huge difference. Negativity is so energy-sapping, a waste of time, and just holds you back from your potential. 

When you're a child, it's so easy to take the words "you can't" as a challenge to go and defy the odds. When you're an adult with an invisible disability, jaded by the years, you start to wonder if the words "you can't" just might be true. You need reminders they're just words, tools to stay strong, positive thinking to push back against the negative.  

Imagine my smile when I opened my blog feed to see today's topic over at Marc and Angel Hack Life  (one of my favorite blogs): 15 Powerful Beliefs that Will Free You from Negativity. Timely advice. And I really like that the author says he has them written down in his journal so he can look at them to keep them fresh in his mind.  I'm printing the list of 15 beliefs out and keeping it in my journal. I hope you do, too. 

Tribes at the Steppenwolf Theater

I saw Tribes at Chicago's Steppenwolf Theater in December -- I scored one of the few remaining seats for an American Sign Language-interpreted performance. I'm sure everyone who sees this performance walks away with a different interpretation.To me, it was a play about identity -- something I'm still molding to this day because I have one foot firmly in the hearing world and the other in the deaf community.

Playwright Nina Raine did a spectacular job highlighting how lonely it can be to be a deaf person in this hearing world -- whether it's within one's own family or among friends. No matter how well you speak and lipread, there's really only so much you can do. You end up being a step slower. A beat behind when everyone starts laughing at a joke.

Many people focus on the fact that Billy's family didn't learn any sign language, but to me, the bigger fault was that his family didn't really try and make sure Billy knew what was going on. He was isolated within his own family.

My family life was nowhere near as snarky (of course, we weren't British) or dysfunctional as Billy's family. My parents learned sign language, encouraged me to be the best person I could be, and taught me that   my deafness was just one small part of my identity, not my whole. It's a wonderful gift to give any child -- especially one with a disability -- the belief that there are no limits. And it's even more empowering when you give that child the tools to achieve his or her dreams.

Tribes won't leave you with the warm fuzzies like a Lifetime or Disney move. Billy's issue is just one of several exposed as the play explores communication. The play itself is full of language: opera, Chinese, music, writers, shelves of books, music, conversations around the dinner table. Sign language enters the picture when one Billy's girlfriend Sylvia tries to show Billy's family what a versatile, beautiful language it can be, not "broken English" as Billy's father put it.

There are many layers to this play: communication, isolation, inclusion, exclusion. At times, it was a challenge to follow all the dialogue in the play: there were three ASL interpreters signing for four hearing characters, plus two actors signing onstage. If I'd had the time to go to another performance, I would have liked to go to one of the shows with open captions. I'll probably buy the script to fill in some of the blanks and as a keepsake.

I highly recommend seeing Tribes if you can. Whether or not you have a deaf person in your family or circle of friends, you'll walk away from the play thinking about communication and how you listen to and perceive others.

Trust Your Power

I'm cheating on the Minnesota Vikings Sunday and cheering for the Seattle Seahawks. If you've been following the road to the Super Bowl coverage at all, you've probably heard the name Derrick Coleman and know he's a fullback for the team -- and he's deaf. Or if you're not a football fan (I forget those people exist until my roommate's eyes glaze over when I start spouting stats or names), you know him from the Duracell commercial that's making the rounds on Facebook.

I love the positive media attention Coleman's getting, and how inspiring his story is for anyone who watches it, especially deaf kids. He's worked hard to get to where he is, refusing to let his hearing impairment define or defeat him. I know exactly how he feels, as I've fought similar battles most of my life.

I can't count how many times I've been told, "You can't do that." Then did it. Been made fun of? Oh, yes. Stared at? Still happens. Misunderstood, passed over, left out, isolated...the list could go on, but I learned early on that if you want to survive and thrive, you have to rise above, let go, push harder, keep your chin up and find ways to make it work. Yes, kind of like Seahawks Coach Pete Carroll's "No whining, no complaining, no excuses" mantra. And when you get that chance -- run with it like Coleman has.  

Coleman's Duracell commercial is one minute of life, laid raw. In case you're not one of the more than six million people who've viewed the ad or want to see it again, here it is:

I'd like shake the hand of whoever came up with the concept and had the guts to pitch it. This commercial tells every deaf kid out there who was "picked on and picked last," left out and left behind by their hearing peers: it gets better. Maybe not NFL-career better, but better enough that someday you'll look back and smile and know all the struggles are worth it. Obstacles are made to be overcome. They make you stronger, and they make that victory all that much sweeter.

I'm hoping for a sweet victory for the Seahawks -- and I'm definitely going to be watching for #40 on the field.

Finding Balance

This year, I've gotten away from running -- mainly because of an injury but also because, well, truth be told, I haven't really enjoyed it. Getting a migraine every time I run a 5k -- no matter how hydrated I am -- isn't really my idea of a good time. I may run again once my foot heals. We'll see. I know Baxter would really appreciate it. 

In the meantime, I've been pushing myself to get out of my comfort zone a bit more this year. As an introvert, that's not always an easy thing to do. I've never really been fond of group-type exercise (this traces back to middle, junior, and senior high school traumas), but this year, I've made a genuine effort to try out some new classes. After all, we're all supposed to be adults here, right? And you know what? I'm enjoying them!

I've tried yoga with three different instructors and found one I really like working with. I've also tried a deep-water cardio class (yes, with the old ladies, but in the deep end of the pool!). I had a streak of 6 weeks in a row of Monday night yoga going -- broken only because of a migraine this week. I love, love Monday night yoga. I'm getting stronger all the time. It's the best part of Mondays for me and I look forward to it every week.

Yoga can be a bit of a challenge for a deaf person, as many of the poses require you to have your head down/in a relaxed position while you listen to the instructor. I've learned to let things go, to do what I can, and that the more I practice, the better and more comfortable I get. They call it yoga practice for a reason. 

Yoga's second challenge is the balance factor. Balance has been a huge issue for me ever since I lost my hearing when I was 5. Many people don't know how hard I've worked to get my balance to where it is today. I'm very lucky that I have a stubborn streak and parents who were willing to drag me to and from gymnastics and swimming lessons, to the barn and horse shows, and to encourage me to keep on picking myself up off the ground, get back up and do it again. And again. 

When I first came home from the hospital after a battle with meningitis (I won, but my hearing was lost forever), I still remember vividly not being able to stand up, of falling over all the time. Walking uphill was a challenge. Downhill? Downright dangerous. For some reason, the balance thing stands out more in my memory than not being able to hear. I'm not quite sure why. Maybe because it was something I could battle myself, something I could control little by little, and slowly overcome. 

I remember swimming lessons that turned into chaos when I had to dive underwater and I could not tell which way was up, down, or sideways. (I went on to swim in college.) Horseback riding and gymnastics helped fine-tune my balance; falling down never really seemed to hurt my pride. I'd just brush it off and get on with things. A family trip to Montana's Big Sky country tested my resolve -- and probably the patience of everyone on the trip with us -- as the altitude threw my balance so off-kilter that I could not stay upright on cross-country skis at first. The stories go on and on.

Today -- nearly 35 years later -- I still struggle with the balance, still push the limits, and still smile. And yes, I still fall. I just fell in yoga class a few weeks ago, toppling over after losing my balance trying to deepen a simple pose. Lisa, meet wall, meet water bottle, meet floor. All I could do was laugh at myself and then try to contain the giggles for the rest of the class. And then on days like today I beam because I have made -- for me -- a large improvement in the tree pose, actually standing on one foot, looking off into the horizon, breathing deeply. In yoga, you are working on yourself and how your body is in that moment -- you are not comparing yourself to anyone else, not even your former or future self. Just here and now. Allowing yourself to simply be is a really good feeling. It's taken me a long time to learn that. 

Spark

I've been sitting at the computer most of the day, doing some SEO work on the gardening web site. Actually, that's a lie. it was SEO work plus a side-trip to the Y to swim some laps and then Trader Joe's. 

But anyways. Winding down this evening, I had no plans to get back on the computer tonight. My plan was to vegetate, finish reading the Sunday paper and watch some Hawaii 5-0. Then I came across an article about Chicago Ideas Week. Its labs, panels, speakers with recognizable names (think Tom Brokaw, Colin Powell, David Gregory, Mayor Rahm Emanuel, Deepak Chopra, Elle Macpherson) and other events are meant to inspire, motivate, and even give attendees a glimpse at what makes things click behind the scenes. Sounds great, especially for only $15 per session, doesn't it? 

A column in Sunday's Chicago Tribune caught my eye: http://www.chicagotribune.com/entertainment/ct-ae-1007-chicago-ideas-week-20121005,0,1772869.column

And then I saw something that just sparked something. Not anger, just a bit of a sensitive nerve. That little nerve that's been there since I lost my hearing when I was 5. The one that I've worked hard to make less sensitive, but is still there -- and will always be there. It's just who I am, and I've made peace with it, but it doesn't mean I can't say, "Hey, you know what? Don't forget about me!"

I don't know how you use the word accessibility. I suppose for most people, they don't think twice about it. For me, it means -- will I be able to understand what's going on, or will I need an interpreter, or will I just have to nod and pretend I understand what's going on? Will the movie or be captioned or transcribed? There are so many "little things" in a deaf "(or any other handicapped/disabled) person's life that add up to big things. So when people begin throwing around the word "accessible," well, they need to back up their choice of words. 

My point? Two different quotes in the article used the word accessibility, and while I do realize they probably were trying to emphasize the "affordability" of the events, it just rubbed me the wrong way. Nowhere on the website did they indicate if any events would be interpreted or how requests could be made. 

"The tone, the structure of what we've done in terms of accessibility and price point, the programming, the inclusiveness -- there's nothing like this." -- Brad Keywell, co-founder and director of Groupon

"The long-term vision of Ideas Week is that we are this accessible platform that really anybody can plug into at a $15 price point." -- Chicago Ideas Week Executive Director Jessica Malkin

Hey, Chicago Ideas Week? Here's a great idea for a topic in 2013: accessibility and inclusiveness. There is a huge customer base that many industries are missing. I'm sure you would have no problem finding speakers.