Sunday, July 26, 2020

Collegiate forensics: 2018-2019 communication analysis manuscript (Apple Disability Emojis)

Originally planned for publication in March 2020 but things slowed down due to the ongoing COVID-19 pandemic (please stay safe and healthy):

On July 26, 1990, United States president George H. W. Bush signed Americans with Disabilities Act into law, hailed as a civil rights legislation people with disabilities sought for generations. To people born outside of America (including I), this legislation and certain policies were seen as making United States a "safe home for the disabled." Yet 30 years later, there are issues disabled people face such as subtle discrimination in policies, technology, and education, made more clear as we look at disability and COVID-19.

Then a few weeks ago, the blindness community was shocked to learn that, despite calls for accommodations, College Board would not provide hard-copy braille tests to Advanced Placement (AP) test takers who did request such an accommodation, especially for people who signed up for science courses such as biology. College Board's argument was that technology can be a useful tool for test takers given online instruction and resource reallocations, which turned out to be a mixed success. For disabled students, as Kaleigh Brendle from New Jersey (a blind student and an aspiring disability advocate) pointed out in her speech to a blindness advocacy organization a few days ago, it was a frustrating and devastating experience. In the end, College Board agreed to provide braille tests, but as you'll see below, it becomes nothing unless advocacy is sustained. Kaleigh's speech is one of the reasons for publishing the below forensics manuscript as a way for me to reflect on what ADA did for the last three decades, and to offer food for thought as we move toward broader online presence and advocacy (and for speech students, another CA example to study and learn from).

Below is a manuscript of a communication analysis speech I presented during 2018-2019 collegiate speech season (with updates), stemming from the so-called "disability emojis" from Apple which made headlines in 2018. Although the manuscript does not address ADA directly, it addresses a subtle form of discrimination certain groups with disabilities face: technological representation divorced from experiences of disabled people, more so if the "represented group cannot use such medium. This speech made it to semifinal round (top twelve in the nation) of rhetorical criticism (communication analysis) during National Forensic Association (NFA) National Championship held in Santa Ana, California in April 2019.

Pixelated wheelchairs and white canes: analysis of Apple’s disability emojis in the lens of disability and visual rhetoric

2018 wasn’t exactly the “year of disability”, between Stephen Hawking’s death memes and efforts by Washington lawmakers to downplay the ADA’s significance. But in an attempt to rectify that unease, in March 2018, Apple announced the addition of more emojis to your iPhones, and they aren’t winking faces and cucumbers: they’re 13 emoji characters representing people like me: people with disabilities. Diverse publications like Buzzfeed to Ars Technica praised the release as “a high moment for disabled people.” But the World Health Organization reminds us - 300 million people live with varying levels of blindness. Marcel Danesi argues in his 2016 book, The Semiotics of Emojis, emojis, like Apple’s, aim to normalize communication and emotional expression. But instead, Apple normalized the inequity of access for persons with disabilities in the name of progress that prompts the research question:

How do Apple’s Disability Emojis as representational medium construct disability as a locus for discrimination?

To answer, let’s turn to research by Bonnie Tucker of the University of Michigan, titled “Technocapitalist Disability Rhetoric: Confusing Technology for Social Justice”, initially published in the journal of Enculturation in April 2017. Tucker analyzes a series of Super Bowl Ads by Microsoft meant to be empowering through a rhetorical disability studies lens, which is apt for our analysis. To understand how Apple’s attempts at inclusion excluded, we’ll first examine Tucker’s findings, apply them to Apple’s disability emojis, and draw critical implications to yet another attempt to represent disability – not as we see it, but as you see it.

In 2014, Microsoft aired a Super Bowl ad featuring former NFL player Steve Gleason and an ALS patient, and Eye Gaze, a technology to allow him and others to communicate with minimal physical movement. Tucker uses visual rhetoric in disability studies  to analyze how ads like this commodify disabled bodies while presenting a superficially empowering narrative, identifying three tenets: focus placement, emotional appeal, and concept testing.

First, Tucker argues that companies create a locus of discrimination with faulty focus placement. When our empowering messages aren’t focused on disabled personhood, but instead, on how to “save” them, we overlook their commodification and the discrimination inherent in it. Tucker notes that, “… the prominent highlight of the 2014 Super Bowl ad was not Steve Gleason, but the technology that allowed him to talk - eye gaze - thus putting their own product at the center of a message that should have been about combatting disability norms.

Second, Tucker argues that disability is twisted into emotional appeal. In order to operationalize their products, companies must demonstrate a “need” for it, often appealing to sympathy. Microsoft’s ads do this visually, using the contrast between the bodies described to paint one as lacking, different, and weak. The Superbowl ads transform in the minds of audience what is otherwise an attempt to sell a product into a public relations campaign worthy of praise.

Third, Tucker establishes disability as social concept testing. The end goal of companies is to create appealing, mainstream solutions; Amazon’s vocal interface became Alexa, for instance. So disabled people become “… beta testers for a potential product …”. The eye gaze technology shown to empower users with disabilities in 2014 debuted on Windows 10 three years later - they essentially advertised how nice their research and development team was, not a finished empowering tool.

Tucker establishes the steps that companies take to disguise commodification as empowerment. Let’s apply her findings to Apple’s disability emojis.

First, having come together for once, Apple and Microsoft share similar focus placement. Apple claims to focus on disability-related needs, but their appeals to the masses are tellingly different: in their March 2018 announcement, they proclaim that “… technology has no barriers, even for disabled people and their representations …”. Notice the focus is the medium - the iPhone, the emojis - and its scope for mainstream audiences. “Even” represents those with disabilities as a fringe afterthought. Apple focuses on a solution, not the people or norms they face, fulfilling Tucker’s first tenet.

Second, these emojis are steeped in emotional appeal. Apple’s announcement furthers that these emojis “… highlight diverse populations and give voice to people with disabilities …”. But Apple isn’t giving us a voice - they can offer a platform. Their words are not accidental, and portray themselves as restorers of agency for a population without it. Apple appeals to sympathy to sell a need, fulfilling Tucker’s second tenet.

Finally, Apple’s disability emojis are part of a concept test, and they’ve found a defect. 300 million people have no way of interacting with, let alone, viewing digital, visual representations of “themselves”. They’ve rendered us the testers, and this “feature” becomes a “bug”: discrimination instead of inclusion. They didn’t give us a finished project, and outsourced discovery of its flaws to the audience they pretend to help, fulfilling Tucker’s last tenet.

Apple’s newest emojis have a fractured relationship with their audience, to say the least. Having applied Tucker’s findings, we can return to the research question: How do Apple’s Disability Emojis as representational medium construct disability as a locus for discrimination? Apple’s emojis are a form of technological social justice, rather than representing the reality of disability. This prompts two implications: design philosophy and performative advertisement.

First, Apple’s ingrained emoji ableism forces us to rethink about product design in accessibility solutions. Apple’s announcement prominently states that groups like the American Council of the Blind were consulted in creating these emojis. But that changed nothing at the time of release. It doesn’t matter when companies ask the public for feedback - the damage is already done when they use us as testers, a silenced group burdened with finding out why we are misrepresented and oppressed through discriminatory product design in the name of progress.

Finally, Apple’s emojis aren’t assistive technology, but rather lip service. Apple promotes them AS normalized, positive disability, instead of what they are - a vocabulary, tainted with false promises, emotional appeal, and frustration for those who can’t use them. We pitch technology – and advocacy - as life changing to marginalized users; even performing normalized disability as an attempt to help disabled audiences. But we must remember the rewards of advertisements, emojis, and speeches – consumers, trophies, and fleeting change, if any. If we aren’t responsible in what and how we promise for marginalized bodies, then once the applause has ended, so has the advocacy.

In 2015, the Oxford English Dictionary’s word of the year was the smiley emoji, drawn to the “universal appeal to express our thoughts”. Fast forward to 2020, and that universality has become a barrier. Bonnie Tucker’s research, application to Apple’s disability emojis, and implications, prove that any representational medium can marginalize its users when company profits are involved. In 2019, Apple announced it will prioritize inclusion over marketing. But for now, for its population with disabilities? Apple’s emojis are nothing to smile about.

Friday, January 17, 2020

Collegiate speech and debate (forensics): 2017-2018 season communication analysis manuscript (Stevie Wonder, 2016 Grammys, braille notecards)

A few months ago, I promised to United states speech and debate community that I will release the manuscript of a competitive communication analysis (rhetorical criticism) speech for use as reference for people wishing to learn how communication analysis works. The following manuscript is the CA I presented throughout 2017-2018 season, and since January is National Braille Month (celebrated by blindness community), it is fitting that this manuscript be released at this time. There is a more interesting CA (on disability emojis) I did in 2018-2019 season, which I will release sometime in March.

An important note: text within curly braces ({}) are stage directions or description of something I'm holding or pointing to while speaking.

Haha, you can't read braille: Stevie Wonder, 2016 Grammy’s, and selling symbolic accessibility and empowerment through braille

Background: During 2016 Grammys, Stevie Wonder, the presenter for “Song of the Year” that year, came up on stage and showed a braille card and exclaimed, “Haha! You can’t read braille!”. Then he said, “we need to make things accessible for everyone, including people with disabilities” before presenting the award.
Possible model: Thomas, L. Disability Is Not So Beautiful, Disability Studies Quarterly, 2001.
Manuscript version: April 2018 for American Forensic Association-National Individual Events Tournament (AFA-NIET) in Colorado College (Colorado Springs, CO)

Introduction

{stands on stage with an envelope close by on a desk}

The 2016 Grammy’s telecast was a night entertainers, producers and viewers won’t soon forget, with enough wins, dresses, and controversies to fill an entire YouTube video. But the highlight of the event wasn’t performed by a nominee. The Huffington Post explained on February 15th, 2016 that as part of his presentation for “Song of the Year”, musical icon and role model for disabled people Stevie Wonder discussed universal accessibility: making information  accessible to everyone, including for people with disabilities. While saying this, he flashed a card with the recipient of the Song of the Year written in braille {mime reading braille, stress and pause}, a visible emblem of disability culture around the world.

This wasn’t the first time that celebrities such as Stevie Wonder did a public advocacy performance, but this time Wonder’s specific use of a disability tool – here, Braille – as a communicative strategy frames his approach interestingly. He didn’t just read Braille, he demonstrated how normal reading Braille should be. As ten million blind Americans (including I) use braille to access information, as noted by National Federation of the Blind (website last accessed on October 9, 2017), and the stigma and misunderstanding they receive every day prompts the following research question {look straight ahead}:

How did Stevie Wonder’s use of Braille notes in his 2016 Grammy’s speech advertise the normalcy of disability?

To answer this question, let’s turn to research by Lorraine Thomas from University of Windsor titled “Disability Is Not So Beautiful”, which appeared in Spring 2001 issue of Disability Studies Quarterly. Thomas’s work provides a semiotic analysis of disability tool advertisement, rendering her research apt for our analysis. In order to better understand why Wonders’ speech worked, let’s initially examine Thomas’s research, apply it to the speech, and derive implications, for what Stevie Wonder sums up best: “Haha, you can’t read Braille!”

Model

{transition walk while speaking}

Semiotics is study of signs - or as Em Griffin, a communication professor from Wheaton College and author of A First Look at Communication Theory notes, the world is an ocean of communicative signs: street signs, postings, and audiovisual markers all advertise distinct messages. Lorraine Thomas’s research examines this theory in the context of advertisements for disability assistive technology, and outlines three signaling tenets that is applicable to the speech act and beyond {really short pause after announcing each one}: narrative authority, projection of commodity, and performative normalization.

First, Thomas requires stories about disability tools to be narrated by the proper authority on the tools: disabled individuals. When outside experts describe the benefits of disability tools, they often unintentionally reinforce unempowering ideas, and their act of narration subconsciously suggests to viewers that disabled people cannot tell their own stories. Several of the ads in Thomas’s content analysis are narrated by doctors, who rhetorically focused on disabled bodies as “objects to be pitied”, overshadowing the potential of disabled body to achieve more.

Second, Thomas argues that sign usage shouldn’t present disabled bodies as advertisement commodities. When advertisement focuses too much on the restoration of productivity through assistive technologies, they approach disability in an {bold} overtly materialist way {pause}, framing “… disability [as] a loss of productivity”. The ads Thomas examined routinely presented disabilities like missing limbs as a sign of “damaged goods”, and assistive technologies were crucial to “restore them”. But by placing empowerment in the hands of their products, rather than the individuals using them, they remove disabled individuals’ agency.

Lastly, advertisements need to visually, performatively present disability as normal. Advertisements need to display disabled individuals utilizing assistive technologies in accessible ways, because doing so powers the normalization of disability and frames it as a powerful advocacy tool. The ads Thomas examined didn’t violate all of her tenets: they presented many disabled individuals using prosthetic limbs and other disability tools, allowing others to see their role models functioning in integrated ways with society.

Thus, Lorraine Thomas’s research makes clear that the disabled body is a sign that evokes diminishing or advertising narratives – but we’re just getting started. Having broken down Thomas’s model, {transition walk} let us apply it to Stevie Wonder’s speech at the 2016 Grammys.

Application

Initially, we need to consider who is talking about accessibility: it’s Stevie Wonder, a blind musician and a proper narrative authority on this subject. Despite living in the midst of diminishing narratives and misrepresentation and stigma associated with blind people – you don’t see scenes of Daredevil reading braille on Netflix, do you – through use of an extra tool  – here, the Braille card which merely enables his speech – he demonstrates his ability to tell his own narrative confidently, just with a little help, fulfilling Thomas’s first tenet: {bold} narrative authority {pause so audience can absorb this info}.

Second, Wonder avoids commodifying disability. Throughout the speech act, the most important “item for sale” – apart from universal accessibility and Song of the Year, was the tool he used, not his own disability. The braille notes was the centerpiece of Wonder’s impromptu PSA on accessibility needs and omnipresence (not damaged goods) of disability. By reframing his tool as the commodity, he fulfills Thomas’s second tenet: {again bold} projection of commodity {pause again}.

Last, Stevie Wonder visually and performatively presents blindness as normal. By reading the recipient of “song of the year” in braille in front of millions of viewers, Wonder enforced the notion that disability is something to be proud of. Not only did Wonder visually portray what millions of blind people go through every day, he gave viewers a mandate that should be followed: make things accessible to all, flipping audience expectations by showing them the name on the card, but in Braille, so that THEY couldn’t access it. His presentation was the highlight of the night, and impossible to ignore – fulfilling Thomas’s final tenet: {bold} performative normalization.

Answer and implications

Wonder’s presentation engaged a massive, star-studded audience, and prompted the research question: How did Stevie Wonder’s use of Braille notes in his 2016 Grammy’s speech advertise the normalcy of disability? The answer is that Stevie Wonder used his greatest asset – himself – to shape the content and delivery of his advertisement. His approach {transition walk} draws two implications.

First, Wonder’s speech redefines semiotics. Semiotic theories and research largely focus on signs primarily visual in nature. Wonder’s speech uses a visual sign – showing audiences the card – to engage the semiotics of his audience – but only for his SEEING audiences. He engages non-visual audiences in an entirely different way, both using audio cues – his speech – and the context of lived experience reading Braille. His speech gives semioticians a new avenue through which to explore their field – the facets that make a sign a sign are more complex than only sight.

Second, focusing too much on commodity raises {bold} dissonance about what to focus on: the rhetor (Stevie Wonder and others) or tools (braille). If we focus our cameras on braille note card, we can examine how this emblem of disability culture enhances the effects of normalization advertisement. But people and their intentions are just as important as the tool: without basics of ethos (an ad from a celebrity authority), the potency of the speech act would have been reduced. What made the speech act work was not just the use of a disability tool, but a clear intention of making the invisible {spatial gesture} visible through discussing universal accessibility. This is relevant to all speaking activities: if my goal is to discuss accessibility, and you critique my use of the tools that would make doing so more effective, then you’ve fallen into the same rhetorical track that Thomas critiques.

{Transition walk}

Conclusion

Last month, Stephen Hawking passed away, and numerous images of his “freed from his wheelchair” were circulated online. This is not how assistive technology really works, but Stevie Wonder did show how it really works two years ago. Stevie Wonder’s performance helped normalize disability for millions that night – having engaged Thomas’s tenets, applications to his speech, and implications, we now have a better understanding of why. Simply advertising disability tools isn’t enough – tools need effective strategy and rhetors to effectively and safely strengthen accessibility efforts. Luckily, Wonder was the right performer for the job.

The End