Deaf-blind find new challenges at retreat camp

SEABECK – Heads bowed close to each other, hands clasped, fingers fluttering, dozens converse without a sound.

Far from the world they normally live in, with its seeing and hearing majority, more than 60 deaf-blind campers gather at a yearly retreat on Hood Canal to do what much of society thinks they are incapable of – ride Jet Skis, work on computers, tackle a triathlon.

“I’m trying things I’ve never had the courage to do before,” said Richard Garrett of Austin, Texas, who’s almost completely blind and hard of hearing and was looking forward to getting into a kayak for the first time.

The Seattle Lighthouse, a nonprofit agency that helps blind and deaf-blind people with employment, support and training, has run the weeklong retreat every year since 1978, drawing deaf-blind people from across the country and beyond. This year, Canadians, Australians and a camper from Japan made the trek. The more than 130 volunteers traveled just as far.

There are other camps for those without vision or hearing, but supporters say the Seabeck retreat is unique in its offerings. Campers can ride tandem bicycles, take dance classes and create art. They also learn about the latest medical research and technological advances that make everyday life easier.

Rope paths lead from house to house, activity to activity, so campers can explore the compound on their own. A series of knots tells them where they are.

“It’s a breath of fresh air,” said retreat coordinator Tami Berk. “It’s a little bit of hope and inspiration, and then they go back to their real lives.”

There are up to 50,000 blind-deaf children and adults in the United States, said Nancy O’Donnell of the Helen Keller National Center for Deaf-Blind Youths and Adults in Sands Point, N.Y.

Within this group, there’s a broad range. “People try to fit deaf-blind people into a stereotype, and they forget that there’s a person behind those challenges,” O’Donnell said.

Many at the retreat had Usher syndrome, a degenerative condition that affects the hearing and vision of more than 10,000 people in the United States.

For those who are completely blind and deaf, tactile signing is used; for those who are deaf but still maintain some vision, American Sign Language or variations are used.

While many of the volunteers have both their vision and hearing, several are deaf, which gives them something in common with the campers.

“I have a similar shared experience,” said Terry Dockter, a freelance interpreter who was born deaf.

For Dockter, the deaf culture is as distinct as Italian or German culture and should be treated as such, not as a disability.

“Hearing people feel the need to ‘fix’ deaf people,” he said, noting that at the camp, no one is made to feel that there’s anything wrong with them. “This is fertile ground for people who are going through this to come here and feel good about themselves.”

Berk said the more than 130 volunteers pay their own way and donate their time, and while it costs the Lighthouse about $900 per camper, the campers pay a flat fee of $280 to attend and can apply for scholarships to cover their costs.

The tuition covers a week’s worth of food, lodging and activities, including a craft house, where the sound of hammering rings out as campers make leather bracelets and bookmarks.

Lavena Meske of Seattle pounds metal imprints into the soft leather of her bracelet as her interpreter guides her.

“Do you want to put in a moon or a star?” interpreter Deanna Donaldson asks Meske, her fingers forming the question in Meske’s palms. Meske chooses the crescent moon, carefully feels for the space on the band and pounds a hammer to create the imprint.

“I’m trying to get the hang of this,” Meske says through Donaldson, who is deaf. “I think it’s going to be really pretty.”

Upstairs, Anindya Bhattacharyya, technology supervisor at the Helen Keller National Center, demonstrates how to use phones, laptops and Braille communicators.

Campers sit at computers scrolling through Web sites using refreshable Braille that rises under their fingers on a board just below the keyboard.

Bhattacharyya, who is deaf and blind, speaks with a reporter intermittently through a translator and through a screen Braille communicator. The communicator has two sides: one in Braille that the deaf-blind person can read, and the other a screen with a keyboard for a sighted person.

“The technology has enabled us to participate in the world more than before,” he said.

Berk said the popularity of the retreat shows how vibrant the deaf-blind community is, something that she said is often overlooked.

“I think people think deaf-blind people are slow, they need to be in a group home, they can’t live by themselves,” Berk said. “How can you live alone if you can’t see or hear? But every deaf-blind person here does exactly that.”