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Langley Times - Sign of the times William Ford believes Canadian society is backsliding when it comes to our attitudes about the Deaf
William Ford walks up to the doorstep of an Aldergrove home, holding a clipboard, wearing a “LAPS” ball cap and picture ID identifying himself as a canvasser collecting dog licence fees for the Langley animal shelter.
He knocks, not knowing if anyone’s home or if anyone has heard his knock. He doesn’t hear the dog barking behind the door. Finally, a young women opens the door, her dog greets Ford with licks and tail wagging.
Ford points to his clipboard and waits. Silence fills time as the young woman reads what has been put in front of her. She smiles and asks for his pen without saying a word. She writes on a piece of his paper, explaining there is only one dog in her home and it’s licensed.
Ford gives her the thumb’s up and smiles, reaching down to give her dog’s belly a rub. The dog is already flipped onto its back, begging for attention.
Ford is happy to oblige before making his way to the next house. It’s been a good day. He’s sold numerous licences already and has a few homes to go back to before he quits for the day.
He’s out most days this month knocking on doors, selling licences. When he saw the posting for the job, he applied — partly for some extra money but also because he felt it was time he get to know his neighbours, and better yet, for them to get to know him — ‘the Deaf guy’ as he puts it.
That’s a capital “D” he explains, like how Caucasian is capitalized to identify someone’s race.
For Ford, “Deaf” is his native identity. Along with four of his seven siblings, he was born Deaf. His parents could hear.
He grew up in a big family setting where his sister and three hearing brothers went to regular public school and he and his three Deaf siblings went to Jericho Hill in Vancouver — the only school in B.C. at the time for the Deaf and Blind. (It’s moved to Burnaby since the old school closed.)
But after he graduated from Gallaudet College, he and his Deaf siblings found out the real world wasn’t as accepting or understanding of the capabilities of a Deaf person. So most of his adult life he’s struggled to find quality full-time work.
“There is that expression: ‘You’ve got to listen more than you speak,” Ford explains. “Well, I’m Deaf,” he said, using American Sign Language. “But, I have two eyes and two hands so I’ve got four times as much to work with.”
This is how Ford looks at life — too bad employers don’t. Some believe sign language isn’t fast enough to keep up with verbal communication. Some jobs, Workers Compensation Board won’t allow him to be at. He doesn’t believe perfectly able-bodied Deaf people should go on welfare but sometimes, society leaves no choice.
Silently, Ford has been trying to make Canada open its eyes and mind to Deaf people as the United States has for years. But at times he feels his pleas fall on deaf minds.
“Did you know 92 per cent of Deaf people don’t work in Canada?” Today in
“Most of us try to do our best to get by.” That’s why he lives with his four siblings in their family home in Aldergrove.
In fact, they’ve been living in the same small bungalow for 40 years, sharing the bills, housekeeping duties and friendship. “We all get along,” Ford said. “I think it’s because we’re all Deaf, we can’t hear each other whining,” he signs, with his sister laughing beside him. “I do have three hearing brothers. They won’t live with us,” he teases, his sense of humor always sharp.
“We’ve looked for work — it’s hard to find a job because of being Deaf, but we get by.” It’s almost as if B.C. has gone backwards. Many years ago, Deaf people had good jobs and were accepted in the workforce, he explains.
His sister is the only one of the five who has had full-time work for 35 years with the Department of Veteran Affairs. Ford has worked here and there.
Recently, he needed some money for a car repair and expensive orthotics. That’s when he saw the job posting at the Langley Animal Protection Society
The posting was for dog licence canvassers. It seemed the perfect fit for Ford, who likes the exercise and was ready to get out there. “Hopefully I’ll get to know my neighbours this way and then they’ll get to know me.”
He went to shelter manager Sean Baker with his written proposal which explained just how easy it is for him to communicate and sell the licences.
“He’s very committed and a great guy,” said Baker. Baker had already seen how dedicated Ford is to the cats and dogs at the shelter. Like clockwork, Ford arrives at the shelter mid-morning Wednesdays, Thursdays and Fridays, greeting the staff with a wave and a smile before moving to the cat cottage where he cleans out the cages, spending time with the furry felines, while refilling their food and water dishes.
He also likes to take the dogs for walks, spoiling them with treats afterward. When he was given the job, Ford shaved his beard and got a haircut, Baker noticed. “He really took this thing on,” he said.
And Ford’s been selling the licences like hot cakes, offering a sales pitch dog owners can’t resist, making them realize they’ll only pay a lot more later if their dog ends up at the shelter.
He’s experienced no communication barriers when going door-to-door, and people are readily accepting that he can’t hear or speak, further proving being Deaf isn’t a liability.
Fifty-per cent of the dog licence fees ($15.50) goes directly to LAPS to help house the hundreds of orphaned animals that come in every year. It’s the single largest funding for the municipally-run shelter. That’s what makes his work so important, he said.
Not only does Ford volunteer at LAPS, he adopted his Jack Russell from there. She’s grown in size and happiness since coming to the Ford home where she shares space with another Jack Russell, two cats and one bird that squawks and sings without bothering anyone. His dog is a great companion but she also lets Ford and his siblings know if someone knocks on the door or if there were an intruder.
Ford will turn 55 soon, having lived most of his life in the same house, with his three sisters and one brother.
He was married once and has a daughter who lives far away. That feels like a long time ago, he writes, gesturing with his hand. In his kitchen is a big screen TV which he and his siblings use with a Video Relay Service instead of a the traditional computer-phone.
It cost them $340 for the equipment and they have to pay for the monthly Internet service which comes out of the States. In America the service, which includes U.S. ASL interpreters, is free. Ford never liked the typing system still used in Canada through Telus Relay Service. Here he can sign in real time through a web cam system with all his friends and family. The conversation is instant and natural ASL. He’s taken his cause to Langley MP Mark Warawa but is still waiting to get a meeting with Aldergrove-Fort Langley MLA Rich Coleman. He’s hoping both governments will agree to pick up the service here in Canada and help put Deaf people on a level playing field with the hearing. He even signs off all his e-mails, “hear ya later” as a play on people’s five senses.
He’d really like to see the Video Relay Service paid for in Canada, but until that happens he’ll keep pushing various levels of government and continuing to work where he can.
“Maybe I’ll run for council one day, wouldn’t that be something,” he signs.
William Ford walks up to the doorstep of an Aldergrove home, holding a clipboard, wearing a “LAPS” ball cap and picture ID identifying himself as a canvasser collecting dog licence fees for the Langley animal shelter.
He knocks, not knowing if anyone’s home or if anyone has heard his knock. He doesn’t hear the dog barking behind the door. Finally, a young women opens the door, her dog greets Ford with licks and tail wagging.
Ford points to his clipboard and waits. Silence fills time as the young woman reads what has been put in front of her. She smiles and asks for his pen without saying a word. She writes on a piece of his paper, explaining there is only one dog in her home and it’s licensed.
Ford gives her the thumb’s up and smiles, reaching down to give her dog’s belly a rub. The dog is already flipped onto its back, begging for attention.
Ford is happy to oblige before making his way to the next house. It’s been a good day. He’s sold numerous licences already and has a few homes to go back to before he quits for the day.
He’s out most days this month knocking on doors, selling licences. When he saw the posting for the job, he applied — partly for some extra money but also because he felt it was time he get to know his neighbours, and better yet, for them to get to know him — ‘the Deaf guy’ as he puts it.
That’s a capital “D” he explains, like how Caucasian is capitalized to identify someone’s race.
For Ford, “Deaf” is his native identity. Along with four of his seven siblings, he was born Deaf. His parents could hear.
He grew up in a big family setting where his sister and three hearing brothers went to regular public school and he and his three Deaf siblings went to Jericho Hill in Vancouver — the only school in B.C. at the time for the Deaf and Blind. (It’s moved to Burnaby since the old school closed.)
But after he graduated from Gallaudet College, he and his Deaf siblings found out the real world wasn’t as accepting or understanding of the capabilities of a Deaf person. So most of his adult life he’s struggled to find quality full-time work.
“There is that expression: ‘You’ve got to listen more than you speak,” Ford explains. “Well, I’m Deaf,” he said, using American Sign Language. “But, I have two eyes and two hands so I’ve got four times as much to work with.”
This is how Ford looks at life — too bad employers don’t. Some believe sign language isn’t fast enough to keep up with verbal communication. Some jobs, Workers Compensation Board won’t allow him to be at. He doesn’t believe perfectly able-bodied Deaf people should go on welfare but sometimes, society leaves no choice.
Silently, Ford has been trying to make Canada open its eyes and mind to Deaf people as the United States has for years. But at times he feels his pleas fall on deaf minds.
“Did you know 92 per cent of Deaf people don’t work in Canada?” Today in
“Most of us try to do our best to get by.” That’s why he lives with his four siblings in their family home in Aldergrove.
In fact, they’ve been living in the same small bungalow for 40 years, sharing the bills, housekeeping duties and friendship. “We all get along,” Ford said. “I think it’s because we’re all Deaf, we can’t hear each other whining,” he signs, with his sister laughing beside him. “I do have three hearing brothers. They won’t live with us,” he teases, his sense of humor always sharp.
“We’ve looked for work — it’s hard to find a job because of being Deaf, but we get by.” It’s almost as if B.C. has gone backwards. Many years ago, Deaf people had good jobs and were accepted in the workforce, he explains.
His sister is the only one of the five who has had full-time work for 35 years with the Department of Veteran Affairs. Ford has worked here and there.
Recently, he needed some money for a car repair and expensive orthotics. That’s when he saw the job posting at the Langley Animal Protection Society
The posting was for dog licence canvassers. It seemed the perfect fit for Ford, who likes the exercise and was ready to get out there. “Hopefully I’ll get to know my neighbours this way and then they’ll get to know me.”
He went to shelter manager Sean Baker with his written proposal which explained just how easy it is for him to communicate and sell the licences.
“He’s very committed and a great guy,” said Baker. Baker had already seen how dedicated Ford is to the cats and dogs at the shelter. Like clockwork, Ford arrives at the shelter mid-morning Wednesdays, Thursdays and Fridays, greeting the staff with a wave and a smile before moving to the cat cottage where he cleans out the cages, spending time with the furry felines, while refilling their food and water dishes.
He also likes to take the dogs for walks, spoiling them with treats afterward. When he was given the job, Ford shaved his beard and got a haircut, Baker noticed. “He really took this thing on,” he said.
And Ford’s been selling the licences like hot cakes, offering a sales pitch dog owners can’t resist, making them realize they’ll only pay a lot more later if their dog ends up at the shelter.
He’s experienced no communication barriers when going door-to-door, and people are readily accepting that he can’t hear or speak, further proving being Deaf isn’t a liability.
Fifty-per cent of the dog licence fees ($15.50) goes directly to LAPS to help house the hundreds of orphaned animals that come in every year. It’s the single largest funding for the municipally-run shelter. That’s what makes his work so important, he said.
Not only does Ford volunteer at LAPS, he adopted his Jack Russell from there. She’s grown in size and happiness since coming to the Ford home where she shares space with another Jack Russell, two cats and one bird that squawks and sings without bothering anyone. His dog is a great companion but she also lets Ford and his siblings know if someone knocks on the door or if there were an intruder.
Ford will turn 55 soon, having lived most of his life in the same house, with his three sisters and one brother.
He was married once and has a daughter who lives far away. That feels like a long time ago, he writes, gesturing with his hand. In his kitchen is a big screen TV which he and his siblings use with a Video Relay Service instead of a the traditional computer-phone.
It cost them $340 for the equipment and they have to pay for the monthly Internet service which comes out of the States. In America the service, which includes U.S. ASL interpreters, is free. Ford never liked the typing system still used in Canada through Telus Relay Service. Here he can sign in real time through a web cam system with all his friends and family. The conversation is instant and natural ASL. He’s taken his cause to Langley MP Mark Warawa but is still waiting to get a meeting with Aldergrove-Fort Langley MLA Rich Coleman. He’s hoping both governments will agree to pick up the service here in Canada and help put Deaf people on a level playing field with the hearing. He even signs off all his e-mails, “hear ya later” as a play on people’s five senses.
He’d really like to see the Video Relay Service paid for in Canada, but until that happens he’ll keep pushing various levels of government and continuing to work where he can.
“Maybe I’ll run for council one day, wouldn’t that be something,” he signs.