Gallery
The deaf community is an astonishingly diverse mosaic of people of different multicultural backgrounds and ways of life.
In a series of intimate portraits and stories, deaf photographer and writer Stephen Iliffe celebrates this rainbow-coloured mosaic.
Paul Ntulila
“Being black and deaf is a double-whammy,” says Paul. “We’re a minority within an already oppressed community. We face discrimination twice.” And yet, after his family came to UK from Tanzania, Paul became the first deaf person to win a fully-funded university MSc scholarship. He graduated in Diplomacy, Statecraft and Foreign Policy. Paul is now tipped to be a future leader in the deaf community and among people with disabilities. “Growing up, I loved following TV news stories, like the Northern Ireland Peace Process. I believe strongly that conflict is best resolved not through war but listening and dialogue. Barack Obama is my biggest role model.” In this portrait, I aimed to capture some of Paul’s many qualities: his strength and resilience, his compassion and determination to help others.
Nadia Nadarajah
From Shakespeare to TV, Nadia is one of our leading actresses. ”I explore the human condition,” she says, ”but instead of speaking, I use British Sign Language, gesture, facial expression and posture.” Of British-Sri Lankan descent, Nadia trained as an actress in Paris and was a sign language teacher for three years on Reunion Island (in the middle of the Indian Ocean) before returning to UK. I first saw Nadia onstage in ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’ and loved how she expressed not only the play’s dialogue but also the emotional complexities behind it. We had a playful shoot and fooled around with stereotypes about race, femininity and strength. This pose was inspired by the classic WW2 poster girl Rosie-the-Riveter but updates the white feminist icon with a deaf south Asian face, flexing her muscles with a knowing smile.
Dame Evelyn Glennie
“When I play a musical instrument,” says Evelyn, “I hear less through my ears than I do through my body. I experience music through my fingers, arms, shoulders, neck, even my face. My whole body is like a huge ear. It’s as simple as that.” For 40 years, Evelyn has defied the myths about deaf people and music. She’s risen to become the world’s leading solo percussionist. Equally at home with classical orchestras, jazz ensembles and mega-selling rock singers like Bjork and Mark Knopfler. She appears on over 40 albums and won countless awards. For our photo session, Evelyn performs on a ‘waterphone’. It may look like a gadget from a Star Wars movie - a cone-shaped water-filled percussion instrument with metal rods. But in her agile hands, it makes sounds that resemble haunting whale calls or an eerie sci-fi movie soundtrack.
James Clarke
“I run because I can”. As James warms up for yet another long-distance run, his face betrays focus, resilience and stubborn pride. Pride as James is deaf, partially-sighted and delights in proving the doubters wrong. In just eight years, James has won 100 medals including full and half marathons all over UK and Europe. It’s an incredible achievement if you consider James has tunnel vision due to Usher’s Syndrome and must visually navigate complex routes, crowded by runners with trip hazards everywhere. As a social media influencer, James has done a huge amount to raise awareness. “The feeling as I crossed the finish line on my 100th run in Saltdean - with a supporters waving me on - is one I’ll never forget. It was such an emotional moment, I thought of deaf-blind people all over the world going out to do anything they want, rather than being told “You should not or cannot”.”
Laura Sapega
“I’m a woman, I’m Ukrainian, I’m Deaf – this is my identity,” says Laura. She wears her Ukraine folk costume – known as Vyshyvanka – a cotton blouse and velvet tunic embroidered with patterns and flowers. “I’d lived four years in UK,” says Laura. “But at 5am on 24 Feb 2022, I awoke to messages from desperate family and friends who called to say Russian tanks had invaded our homeland. We weren’t expecting this. It was a complete shock. Of course, I was safe here in London, but I couldn’t sit by and do nothing. I set up the Sapega Foundation to organise support for deaf people to escape, get visas, seek asylum or a place of safety. I’d be on the phone all day, and in the middle of the night. We helped 625 deaf and hard of hearing families and CODAs. I’m also hugely grateful to the UK Deaf community for its support too.”
Samantha Baines
Seven months pregnant, Samantha is ready to add motherhood to her multiple roles in life - as author, actress, campaigner and TV and radio broadcaster. “My pregnancy has been joyous and awful in equal measure! I’m excited to teach my daughter BSL and show her Mummy’s hearing aid - but first there will be cuddles.” Samantha’s best-selling non-fiction book ‘Living with Hearing Loss and Deafness - A guide to owning it and loving it’ – gives you a clue to her positive outlook. “I discovered I was deaf at 29, it was a shock but now I love being deaf.” She has written two children’s books - ‘Harriet Versus The Galaxy’ and ‘The Night The Moon Went Out’ with deaf characters. “As an author, I love inventing new worlds. It’s so important that deaf children see themselves reflected in the books they read.”
Dan Langholtz and David Rose
“We were sitting on the bleachers, watching the San Francisco Gay Parade,” says London-born David (above, right) when he first met New Yorker Dan (left). “We began chatting and haven’t stopped since!” laughs Dan. “We discovered that we’re both Ashkenazi Jews and social workers! We’d wanted to give something back to the deaf community, support people to gain equal rights and fulfil their lives.” 16 years later David and Dan married at the San Francisco City Hall in a joyful celebration with family and friends. Now both retired and living in Hampshire, UK. David is still active as a charity trustee and telecoms campaigner. Dan, as a clinical social worker, supports deaf people back in USA via online counselling sessions.
Asha Hylton
"I’m a sister at the King’s College Hospital’s Children’s Critical Care Unit,” says Asha. “We look after some of the most unwell kids in the country. I’m also a Nurse-in-Charge of the unit, I lead the team, support the junior staff, ensure plans are completed on time, attend ward rounds and bed meetings.” Asha uses the government’s Access to Work scheme to employ BSL interpreters at team meetings and training courses. “The work is demanding - my shift begins at 7.30am and doesn’t finish until 8pm, sometimes later. You couldn’t do this job unless you’re totally committed. It’s been especially tough during the Covid pandemic - the masks interfere with lipreading. But I get huge job satisfaction from getting the kids return to their homes. It’s wonderful to see them back to their normal selves when they visit us to say ‘thank you!’”
Joseph Polis
“For 35 years, I’ve worked for Royal Mail in sun, rain, thunder, lightning, fog, snow, ice” laughs postman Joseph. It’s still dark when he leaves home at 6am to do the streets around Leicester. “It’s never boring. I enjoy the changing seasons, birds, cats, flowers. After all these years, I’m well-known in these parts. Often people see me outside and dash to the door for a quick chat and to tell me their news. These days, hardly anyone sends hand-written letters with stamped envelopes but we still deliver huge amounts of official letters, packets and promotions. The son of French-Latvian parents, in his spare time Joseph loves to read and write in French - his second language. “I’ve done eight exchange visits with the French postal service in Strasbourg. My ideal holiday would be Paris for friendship, food, wine, fashion and culture!”
Ben Fletcher
“I can’t pretend life is easy being Deafblind. I have my bad days too. But I focus on what I can do, not what I can’t,” says Ben. “With Usher’s Syndrome, I have tunnel vision but I love to challenge myself at Sheffield’s Depot climbing centre. Yoga gives me the flexibility and core strength to do this. As a vegan Buddhist, I take care of my mind, body and spirit. In my day job at the Financial Times I lead 50 engineers to drive the data science agenda. I use BSL interpreters who I've trained in tech jargon. Family support and love is the only way I could get through all this. My parents, and my partner Lauren, encouraged me to stand up and be counted. I stood for Parliament as a Green Party candidate in 2017 and won over 1100 votes. The world’s future, and my son’s, is at stake, and Deaf and Deafblind people must play a part in protecting it.”
Signkid
“Music is a massive part of my life,” says sign-song composer Signkid - who performs at big festivals and has been on BBC Radio 1.“ At home, I’d watch my bro imitate Michael Jackson dance moves on TV. If couldn’t quite make out the lyrics, I could follow the beat via his movements. At college I had a go at making my own beats, inspired by hip-hop to R&B greats Tupac and Kanye West. You don’t need to fully hear music to create it. With big speakers, you can physically feel the beat through your body. In ‘Listen With Your Eyes’, he sign-sings “Sign songs hit ya, Just like a motion picture / Facial interpretation, my hands as an illustration / Body language and gestures, All concepts that will come and test ya / Look at my expression, it’s all about visualisation / I’m making it my mission to get you, to listen with your eyes”.
Lawand Hamadamin
"My life is here, my friends are here, I want to stay,” says six-year old deaf asylum seeker Lawand Hamadamin. His family fled war-torn Iraq overnight with only the clothes on their backs. After a traumatic journey through Europe, he arrived in UK and was enrolled into Derby’s Royal School for Deaf Children where he learnt to sign for the first time. He has since blossomed and made many new friends. A government threat to deport his family was overturned after media headlines and a public outcry. I spent a day with Lawand’s family at their sparsely-furnished temporary accommodation. We went out to a local park to kick ball and take photographs. Lawand’s fearless pose on the playground’s climbing frame seems symbolic of his upside-down life.
Jodie Ounsley
“Since I was a toddler, I’ve always been competitive,” says Jodie. “I wasn’t very academic but I can do sport and fought hard to become the UK Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu champion. “At 14, I also discovered rugby. I’d wanted to play for years but put it off due to worries about destroying my cochlear implant. I went for a taster session, I think my parents thought I’d get it out of my system and move on. But I scored a try and I was hooked.” Jodie had a special scrum cap made to protect her implant and went on to play for England Rugby 7s. She now plays professionally for the Manchester-based Sale Sharks. “Growing up, I wished I’d had a deaf role model to look up to,” says Jodie. “So I visit schools and give little talks to deaf children. Public speaking terrifies me but when I see the difference it makes to the kids, it drives me on.”
Marl-jam Wilson
On the wall of Miguel’s Boxing Gym in Brixton, a poster states: ‘The body achieves what the mind believes’. And that’s the motto of Marl-jam, whose boxing for fitness regime has lifted her to a better place. “It all began when I was 50,” she says. “I was overweight. All my adult life, my weight had been like a yo-yo – up and down and up again. My body had been through three pregnancies – including my twins. By the time I reached 40, I was diabetic too. I needed a way to break the cycle.” Marl-jam’s Wilson family surname comes from Jamaica, while her birth forename Marlene was chosen by her mother (whose father was German) who was a fan of Marlene Dietrich, the famous German actress and singer. “These days, I introduce myself to people as Marl-jam. It’s a cool way to combine my birth name with my ancestral roots.”
Samuel Ash
“I enjoy filming so much it doesn’t feel like a job to me,” says Samuel. You may have seen his work as a cinematographer in deaf films and TV – from BSL Zone to See Hear. "When I was 12, Dad gave me a camera. I was hooked for life! The TV industry is fiercely competitive. It’s really hard to get into, especially for deaf people trying to break through to the mainstream. You have to work hard, be patient, never give up. Be prepared for long hours, early starts, late nights, lots of travelling. I come from a deaf family of three generations - I’m the second of six deaf brothers and sisters - so visual storytelling comes naturally to me. TV work is very intense, having a good work-life balance is important. So, I like to switch off by walking in nature with my family dogs around the Peak District close to my home.”
Chisato Minamimura
In the face, arms, hands, posture of performance artist Chisato Minamimura we see inner and outer landscapes, subtle emotions that lie beyond words. In Sumida River in Sign Language, she draws from a 15th Japanese Noh play about a mother who loses her son – and travels to the edge of a turbulent river to seek him, only to be met by a ghost. “I grew up in Tokyo, my first language is spoken Japanese. “When I went to Joshibi University to study Japanese painting, I learnt to sign. Where previously it was stressful to lip-read people all the time, signs opened up a new world of communication for me. And so, Japanese Sign Language became my second language. Now I’m settled in Britain, I can’t speak in English (I can read it), so I use British Sign Language as my third language.”
Vicky Barber-Crimes
“When I’m in a relaxed state, I close my eyes and see dream-like colours and shapes,” says Vicky. “Often this is where I get ideas for my abstract paintings. My art enables me to express things that I have no words for.” Growing up in Southampton, Vicky was the only Deaf pupil in her school. “I was isolated, shy and quiet. Art was my favourite subject as I could enjoy it without the anxiety of communication barriers. I did Jewellery and Silversmithing at Birmingham Uni. I won a national prize to do work experience with a major jeweller. But it didn’t happen due to lack of deaf awareness. After that my confidence went and I drifted into other work. But I was born to be an artist. Once my kids had grown up, I took courage to resign my job and just go for it and be a full-time artist. I now exhibit my work at festivals and sell it online.”
Abs Gas
“I had a vision,” says Abs. “So, I went straight ahead and founded a charity to deliver it.” Abs became deaf at 10 and later his family arrived in UK from East Africa which affected the support they were able to access. “At deaf school, I learned BSL which gave me a new community and a sense of belonging.” Yet, Abdi never felt encouraged or inspired to reach university. Despite this, he forged ahead to gain his BSc and MSc. Even so, Abs felt inadvertently moulded into relying on others, rather than empowered to push himself. “After graduating, I took a leadership programme and, for the first time, was encouraged to think about what I wanted to do and shown how to carve a path to achieve it for myself. So, I created Deaf Unity to support deaf university students and job seekers, so they have a more positive experience.”
Scott Garthwaite
"At first, the kitchen chefs didn't see my abilities, only my deafness - which was insulting." But now Scott Garthwaite - aka Punk Chef - has the last laugh. He's worked in some of Britain’s top restaurants and is an award-winning TV chef. Hartlepool-born Scott grew up in a working-class family: “My grandfather was a Navy chef, Mum was always baking something at home. After eight months volunteering at a deaf school in Jordan, I fell in love with the Middle East’s food culture. This inspired me to train as a chef.” After Scott graduated in Newcastle with a culinary degree, he presented a series of TV cookery programmes in sign language. Instantly recognisable with his pink mohican hairstyle, Scott now runs his own business at London's famous Spitalfields Market where passes on his skills to the next generation of deaf chefs.
Rinkoo Barpaga
“Where do I belong?” asks Rinkoo. “I confront this question during the UK tour of my one-man stand up comedy show ‘Made in India Britain’. I was born deaf to Punjabi parents, raised in Birmingham. This exposed me to misunderstandings and prejudice on several levels - deaf, hearing, British, Indian. Growing up, I felt caught in-between. I didn’t know what my real identity was. I’d always been known as ‘the joker’ at school, work and the pub. Now I consider it my humane duty to use story-telling and humour to challenge my audiences to confront their own prejudices and empathise better. I also love to travel, I just hoover up languages and sign languages. I’ve had adventures in over 30 different countries, even been arrested in Egypt and accused of being an American spy! All of these life experiences feed into my performances.”
Tamer Aswan
“At the start of my final year at university, I’d no idea COVID-19 would soon arrive and turn my world upside-down,” says Turkish-born Tamer. “Suddenly, I was stuck at home. My face-to-face classes went online. It was already hard work being a deaf student, and now it got harder still. I’d been using my Disability Students Allowance (DSA) to pay for sign language interpreters and notetakers. I had to figure how to integrate them into Zoom lessons too. But I’m a problem-solver. So, with patience, we made it work and I graduated with a BSc in Computer Security and Networking. I now have a fantastic job at City Lit supporting deaf college students to develop their digital skills. Whether its for banking, shopping, accessing services, keeping in touch with family and friends, I’m passionate about how digital solutions enhance people’s lives.'‘
Emma Iliffe
“Teaching British Sign Language is my passion” says Emma. “I love to see my students grow in confidence”. After working as an NHS Hospitals interior and children’s book illustrator, Emma retrained at City Lit as a BSL teacher. She now chairs the Association of British Sign Language Teachers and Assessors (ABSLTA). “It’s my dream to see a BSL Act to make sign language equal with English under the law. Scotland has one, but not the rest of the UK.” And, if you’re asking; yes she’s related to me. Emma has been my wife and best friend of the past 33 years. On this day, thanks to Covid lockdown, Emma had been at home teaching BSL online. As she took a short break, the sun came out. Emma’s usually a restless bundle of energy and movement. Here she was, momentarily still, at peace. I grabbed my camera and this is the result.
Mashbekh Maidrig
“This book is one of my proudest possessions. It’s the story of my adoptive father’s life as an army general. I owe him so much. I was born in Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia to a 19-year old student who was unable to look after me. My adoptive parents raised me lovingly, they improvised ‘home signs’, drew pictures, wrote things down, found me a deaf school using Mongolian Sign Language (MSL). I loved it but the teachers were all hearing, no deaf role models. In my mid-20s, I followed my family to England. I was amazed by the access for deaf people. I’d never seen TV subtitles before! I studied English, Maths, BSL at the City Lit, did cleaning jobs to pay the bills. As a qualified teacher, I can now be a deaf role model to my own pupils and inspire them to fulfil their own talents, and to be kind to others.”
Ricardo Browne
I met Ricardo in a Sheffield hotel lobby at a deaf school reunion. In a crowd of black tie suits, he stood out with his pink velvet jacket, looking every inch like a deaf James Bond at the casino. He sees the Nikon camera around my neck. “Are you a photographer?” he asks. “I am”, I say. Immediately, Ricardo tells me his back story. “I used to be a fashion model. I had my own agent. He saw me in the street one day, and loved my style. How I walked, my clothes, my facial expressions. He gave me a contract. I did modelling assignments in Paris, Rome, Barcelona. I had my own sign language interpreter.” He’s retired now, but Ricardo still exudes that effortless cool - just like an expensive perfume. We agreed to a quick session before dinner was served. I didn't even need to tell him how to pose. He already had all the moves. And, this was the result.
Paul Muscat
“I grew up on Malta," says Paul. "A tiny island in the Mediterranean Sea, between Italy and North Africa. We’re a part-European, part-Arabic people. Malta had no deaf school, I couldn’t follow the teachers. So, my father and I caught the steamboat to England to look the deaf schools there. My father’s first choice was Manchester’s deaf school. But mother said “no” as we weren’t used to the big cities with their factories, crowds, traffic and pollution. So, they chose St John’s deaf school in Boston Spa, Yorkshire. It had a village atmosphere, lots of countryside and fresh air. More like the Malta way of life. After I left school, I became a tailor and joined a team that made the red suits for the Queen’s Guards – the ones they wear outside Buckingham Palace. I also worked many years for Moss Bros making woollen jackets.”
Tavvy Tenu
“We need to urgently stop our use of micro-plastics,” says Tavvy. “They’re poisoning the food we eat.” For his deaf school’s Year 11 design project, he created a disturbing model of tinned fish wrapped in green plastic fibres. “Micro-plastics are tiny pieces that measure less than 5mm across. Manufacturers add them to clothes, cosmetics, detergents, paints. These particles later find their way into our soil, rivers and oceans. From there they’re absorbed into the wheat, fruit, veg, and fish that we eat. “We can’t see these tiny fragments, but they enter our stomachs. Over the years these micro-plastics may slowly poison our bodies. We can all do something to help. We can bring our own bags to the shops to avoid single-use plastic bags. We can carry our own refillable water bottles, rather than buy single-use plastic water bottles.”
Sarah Playforth
“When in hospital for cancer treatment, I read a novel a day,” says Sarah. “Books have always been a passion. When I was 11, my mother was chatting to a ‘special services’ librarian who asked me what I wanted to do when I grew up. I told her: “I want your job!” I worked in public libraries for 20 years, eventually as Chief Librarian for a Unitary Authority. It was challenging at times, dealing with patronising attitudes towards a deaf woman in a position of responsibility. I always encouraged people who didn’t traditionally use libraries, adding resources such as captioned videos for deaf people and ensuring buildings and services were accessible. After a second career as a deaf, disability and diversity trainer, and member of employment and disability appeal tribunals, I’m now retired. I share my love of books with my husband, daughters (who are both librarians) and granddaughters.”
Max Lawrence
As I stand in a pub car park, awaiting Max’s arrival for our photo shoot, a huge noise erupts behind me. It’s like standing next to an aeroplane taking off. So loud that even deaf me can hear it. I look around and it’s Max, in his black leather jacket, proudly riding his powerful Harley Davidson 1600cc motor bike. Every inch of it is immaculately polished and spotless. “When I hit the road on my Harley, I’m free,” he tells me.“ I can go anywhere I want and just feel the wind in my face.” Max founded “Earache”- the London and Paris Deaf bikers group. He is now a member of the West London Harley Riders, a 30-strong club who ride across UK and Europe. “I’ve seen everything in life. I’ve done jobs from chauffeuring to building work. I’m a sociable person but, except for my partner, no-one comes between me and my Harley!”
Landry Naubo
“I was born with Auditory Processing Disorder (APD),” says Landry. “I can hear everything around me but I can’t process speech. I don’t understand people if they speak at me and I can’t speak myself. So, British Sign Language (BSL) is my first and preferred language. I went to deaf school, my best friends are deaf, I’ve always felt a part of the deaf community. I’m a barista at Dialogue Hub, a really cool coffee shop. We’re totally different from the High Street chains. All six baristas here are deaf! So, we gently encourage our customers to order a Cappuccino or Flat White - or whatever they choose - by signing to us in BSL! For those who don’t sign, our video display at the counter shows the menu items in sign language. Hearing and deaf alike are always welcome to view our exhibitions of deaf and disabled artists. Come and visit us!”
Martin Binysh
At 97, Martin is the eldest to pose for Deaf Mosaic. His story offers a fascinating glimpse of life for deaf people in the 1920s and 30s. He recalls the London streets illuminated by gas lamps, steam trains blasting out huge plumes of smoke. “Back then, life was very different,” says Martin. “We didn’t have state benefits, hearing aids, equal rights, social workers, sign language interpreters.” He left the Jewish School for Deaf and Dumb Children at 14 with zero qualifications after sign was banned in the classrooms. He became an apprentice tailor, later a watchmaker. “I learnt how to assemble and repair wind-up watches made from dozens of tiny cogs and delicate pieces. The old silver watches were so reliable and could last decades if well cared for. Of course, now young people just use their mobile phones to tell the time!”
Sabawoon Sirajzadeh
Afghanistan-born Sabawoon is fascinated by how technology can remove barriers for deaf people. “I couldn’t watch TV news without subtitles,” he says. “I'm interested in global politics, how wars start, how people can resolve their differences. So, when I grow up I'd like to be an IT engineer and design products and systems for deaf people, so that we can play our part in the wider world." On his last day at Blanche Nevile Secondary School, Sabawoon reflects: "When I go to college I’m going to study hard because I want a good job, so I can afford to travel to other countries and compare how different people live." As he posed for this shot, Sabawoon had just taken his British Sign Language (BSL) Level 3 exam. "In future, I’d like to learn International Sign Language too, so I can communicate with deaf people anywhere."
Marios Costi
“I’m proud of both my Cypriot and deaf identities,” says Marios, who works as a BSL teacher and football coach. “Cyprus is a small island on a big planet, the deaf community is small community in a big hearing world. In both cases, we have to stand up and speak out to get justice.” I joined Marios outside London’s Haiti Embassy where he led a silent candlelit vigil on behalf of deaf victims of Haiti’s human rights abuses. “I'm appalled at how Haitian society often considers deaf people as ‘cursed’. It treats them like slaves and denies access to basic health, education and work. There have been many cases of deaf people murdered, gang-raped or tortured because they’re considered ‘sub-human’. As deaf Britons, we must speak up for our deaf brothers and sisters anywhere in the world. When one deaf person suffers, we all suffer.”
Helen Schreibman-Smith
“Every year, as part of our Jewish holiday celebrations, I light the Hanukkah candles,” says Helen. “It’s a quiet but joyful moment as we reflect on the past, present and future.” Helen’s parents came from Poland where they endured the horrors of World War Two and the Nazi concentration camps. “After the camps were liberated, Mum and Dad emigrated to Canada for a new life, and I was born there.” In her late 20s, Helen moved to England and supported deaf-blind people before joining the Royal National Institute of Deaf People. “Over 2,000 years, forced migration has been part of the Jewish story. But in the UK deaf community, I’ve found a home where I can be myself; Jewish, Deaf, and a citizen of the world too.”
Falu Shah and Shilpa Thakkar
“Every autumn, we love to dance for Navratri,” says Falu (left). “It’s a Hindu festival that lasts for ‘nine nights’ – ‘nava’ (nine) and ‘ratri’ (nights). All around the world - families, friends, neighbours, people of different backgrounds - dress in brightly-coloured clothes, dance and eat together.” Falu, a care worker, and Shilpa, a finance officer, were born in India’s Gujarat state but first met via London’s deaf community network. “In this photo, we’re getting ready for a garba dance,” explains Shilpa. “This involves dozens or even hundreds of dancers in circles around a statue of the goddess Shakti and we tap each other’s ‘dandiyas’ (sticks with tiny bells). Being deaf in a hearing world isn’t always easy, but here we feel at home, all joined as one community, to celebrate joyfully the victory of good over evil.”
Revd Dr Hannah Lewis
“I feel strongly that when God made people,” says Hannah, “He created them equal. That includes hearing and deaf people. There’s no reason for deaf people to be second class. It’s only humanity that does this.” As one of the very few Deaf vicars in the Church of England, Hannah serves worshippers across the Liverpool diocese. In her PhD-researched book, ‘Deaf Liberation Theology’, Hannah deconstructs how church has traditionally oppressed deaf people as people who “can’t hear”. She contends that deaf clergy and preachers who offer BSL-accessible services empower deaf people to not only worship God but to also celebrate their own language too. We spent a couple of hours at Toxteth’s St Margaret’s Church. “I love working with people,” says Hannah, “but I enjoy solitude and contemplation too.”
Moona
“Photograph me as I am,” insists Moona. “Don’t hide the fact I’m a plus-sized curvy woman, and this is my natural shape.” After years of struggling with negative comments, Moona was inspired by a new generation of black American ‘body-positive’ activists who began a world-wide movement to challenge the stereotypes: “For too long, society pressurised us to feel we should all be a certain shape. We don’t have to accept this lie. All of us should feel able to positively embrace our bodies - whatever shape or size we are!" Moona and I had fun trying out different outfits, poses and camera angles before we chose this one. “Plus-size women still get censored on Instagram and TikTok for wearing bikinis. It’s time to get rid of these fake ‘western beauty standards’ and see the real beauty in ourselves. We are all beautiful in our own way.”
Gerard Maguire
Every day, thousands of volunteers like Gerard play a vital role in local deaf communities. As club leaders or advocates, their work often goes unrecognised. After setting up the St John’s Deaf Community Centre’s Queen’s 70th Jubilee party, Gerard takes a breather. “For many of our older members, who are socially isolated, it’s like a second home.'‘ Born in Dublin to an Irish-French family, Gerard migrated to London. He was a founder member of the Brothers and Sisters Club for deaf gays and lesbians. “I worked in a factory on sewing machines to make outfts for airline and hotel staff. I soon got bored with that and found it more enjoyable to help others - I’ve worked as a care home assistant, a nurse to deaf HIV patients, and as an advocate between Islington Council and the local deaf community.”
Maite Facio-Beanland
“I live in one of the world’s smallest nations. I know of only three deaf British Sign Language users here,” says Maite. “Gibraltar is just 4km long and 1.5km wide, only 32,000 people live here. I can walk around the whole country’s border in just an hour and half. When I was born in the 1960s, there was – and still is – no deaf school here. So, at 11, my parents took me to England where we visited 24 deaf schools before choosing St John’s in Yorkshire. Eventually, I made many friends at St John’s. Even so, when I left at 18, it was difficult to return home once more to a hearing only world. But I had no option really. My family are all here. So, I gave deaf awareness talks and supported a campaign to introduce a British Sign Language Act here. I love Gibraltar, but there’s more work to do make it a place where future generations of deaf children can thrive.
Tamara Denner
Tamara is a scientific researcher at the world-renowned Francis Crick Institute. “We work to understand the biology underlying health and disease, and find new ways to prevent, diagnose and treat illnesses. Tamara also has a huge passion for 1940s hairstyles, clothes and accessories. “I love their graceful, flamboyant style and glamour. It’s now an international sub-culture in it’s own right,’ she explains. “There are gatherings where enthusiasts meet, buy and sell stuff. As a deaf person, I find it’s often easier to mingle with hearing people when you share the same interests.” Tamara often imports clothes from USA or uses her trusty sewing machine to make her own. After a long afternoon, with over 400+ shots posed in four different outfits, Tamara picked this out as her favourite.
Rubbena Aurangzeb-Tariq
“My parents came from rural Pakistan,” says Rubbena who grew up in Surrey. “Mum could not read or write, Dad was busy all day in his shop. So, my profound deafness wasn’t diagnosed until I was almost 8.” After belated support from a teacher of the deaf who saw her potential, Rubbena studied at London’s prestigious St Martin’s College of Art. She now has four degrees (including fine art, psychodynamics and art therapy). Rubbena uses paint applied with a palette knife to make richly-coloured and textured abstracts that explore her identity, memories and feelings. She also works part-time as an NHS art therapist for clients with mental health conditions, autism, dementia. “Art is a powerful tool. It can unlock the deepest thoughts of people who may be struggling with verbal expression.”
Eloise Garland
“It's frustrating when people assume that deaf people can’t enjoy or play music,” says Eloise. “In fact, there are many different ways of relating to music - through sound, vibration, vision and movement.” As a professional musician, teacher and deaf awareness campaigner, Eloise innovates new ways of reaching wider audiences. At Eloise’s insistence, her BBC Radio 4 documentary ‘Listening Without Ears’ was the first radio programme to be subtitled. She is an associate director of Audiovisability: “We blend music, visual arts and British Sign Language in surprising ways that delight our audiences.” In 2019, Eloise was shortlisted for the prestigious Woman Of The Year. For our session, I opted for a close up that captures Eloise’s sheer focus on listening and touch as she caresses her other baby - a 118 year-old French-made Fillion violin.
Zoë McWhinney
“I sculpt and create visions with my arms and face that are like movies being projected into your minds,” says Zoë. As a Visual Vernacular (VV) performer, she blends sign language, mime and gesture to conjure landscapes and narratives that grip both deaf and hearing audiences. Whether performing Tchaikovsky’s Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy or improvising her own VV poems - such as ‘Jellyfish Dream’ - Zoë uses an astonishingly versatile range of ‘cinematic’ techniques. “I use ‘long shots’ or ‘zoom shots’. I can speed or slow down the narrative through faster or slower body or hand movements. I adapt my facial expressions and body positions to role shift between different characters, or even objects. It’s just magical to see kids and adults accepting that sound-based speech isn’t the only way to communicate.”
Peter Brown
“My hands aren’t just for sign language, I use them to dig the past,” laughs Peter. His passion is ‘mudlarking’ - sifting the Thames River mud at low tide for antiques like clay tobacco pipes and musket balls. ”You’ll find centuries of history buried down here.” As deaf history lecturer at City Lit. Institute, Peter unearths the deaf community’s hidden stories via obscure documents and brings them back to vivid life. “The breakthrough I’m most proud of is my discovery of Sarah Pounceby (1778-1856). As a child, she attended Britain’s first ever free deaf school, in 1792, and shared her family’s home signs with five other deaf pupils. This is one of the roots of modern BSL. Peter adds, “I believe strongly that to understand our present and future, we first have to know the past.”
Ghislane Seddiki
Ghislane’s BSL name sign is ‘smile’ - for obvious reasons. She has an infectious smile that lights a room as soon as she enters it. “Well, I will try smile for you, Stephen,” she says, “if I can first stop laughing.” But don’t be fooled, Ghislane is a combative advocate for deaf people if she needs to be. Born in Rabat, Morocco, Ghislane’s family flew her to France for additional audiology and learning support. Now she has five languages. On moving to London, Ghislane became Mum to two kids. As Managing Director of Al Isharah, Ghislane has supported the Muslim Deaf community for ten years. Now she is a freelance consultant and leads a focus group for Al Isharah’s Quran Project to translate the Muslim Holy Book from Arabic to BSL.“It’s a huge task. This is a beautiful yet complex 1,400 years-old text full of symbolic meaning. We bring together BSL linguists, interpreters, scholars, Arabic linguists and a focus group. We’ll bring it alive and make it accessible for deaf people.”
Philip Nix
“What do you think of my beard?” asks Barnsley born-and-bred Philip. “It’s my pride and joy. I’ve grown it for seven years. I look after it with care, use only the best grooming products. It gets mixed reactions. Some love it, but I get teased about it too. It doesn’t bother me. I’m not changing it for anyone. My 14 tattoos all have a ‘bear’ theme: It symbolises the gay sub-culture that I belong to. We’re gay, big, hairy, and proud of it.” I first trained as a chef at Doncaster College for the Deaf, but it wasn’t really me. The Job Centre advisors had low expectations of deaf people and I refused to work in low-paid kitchen jobs. So, I pushed myself to do better, and eventually I got more fulfilling office jobs with banks and solicitors. Now I use these skills to support the Brothers & Sisters Club for deaf gays and lesbians. It celebrates its 45th anniversary this year!”
Sarah Adedeji
“I’m always translating songs into sign language - gospel, rap, RnB,” says Sarah. “I love how I can make the lyrics my own and decipher them in a way that makes accessible to other deaf people. At Uni I’m studying audiology. It’s still rare to see deaf people working in that profession. I want to break down the barriers and create a domino effect for future generations. I’m writing my dissertation on the link between hearing loss and dementia. University life has been much more challenging for me. I use listening devices and encourage the lecturers to position themselves in a way I can lipread. As a deaf person, I struggle with anxiety and stepping outside my comfort zone. So performing my songs to a global audience at the Deaf Rave 2021 festival was a thrilling experience where I left the stage a little more confident in my talents.”
Richard Carter
“As a member of Britain’s Showmen travellers community, I’m fiercely proud of my roots,” says Richard. “But I had to leave the comfort zone and go outside to experience deaf culture before I could be truly myself.” Britain’s ‘gypsies’ fall into three groups; Romany, Irish and Showmen travellers. The latter is best-known for always being on the move with Britain’s travelling funfairs. “When I became deaf at 13 months, Mum made a big sacrifice to temporarily stay in Great Yarmouth, so I could go to deaf school.” Richard works as a BSL teacher and is one of our most popular sign language poets. He gives performances online and at clubs and parties. As we did a photo shoot at the Carter family’s Essex caravan site, I made a cheeky request for Richard to play-act a traditional strongman lifting a fairground ride. Oomph!
Shakha
Name signs feature in most sign languages around the world. They may reflect the individual's personality, appearance or interests. A name sign functions as a visual ‘nickname’, a way for deaf people to quickly identify each other. It removes the need to finger-spell deaf people's names every time they are referred to. “When I was a little girl in Iraq, I always had lots of bracelets on my wrists,” says Shakha. “So my auntie, who was deaf and uses Iraqi Sign Language, thought this would make a great name sign for me. Even after my family left Iraq because of the war and moved to England, my name sign has stayed with me. I work hard at my deaf school here because when I grow up I want to go to university and study to be a Teacher of the Deaf. Then I can help other deaf children to learn, and be confident too.”
Tanzia
“My name sign comes from my favourite colour - yellow,” says six-year old Tanzia. “My Mum, who’s also deaf, gave me this sign because she says I’m like sunshine, always happy. I love swimming. I like diving into water. It doesn’t bother me at all if the water is cold, I can handle it. I love snorkelling too and watching the fishes - all different shapes and sizes, colours and stripes. When I grow up I’d like to be a deep sea diver explore what it’s like down there.”
Wilfred Jenkins
“I’m proud to be both deaf and autistic,” says Wilfred. “I live independently in my own apartment. I have support workers nearby who can help out when I need it. I feel anxious if I meet new faces I don’t know, but if people take the trouble to get to know me, I’m friendly and chatty. I’m a volunteer at a local community farm. I do photography of their animals. My hobby is collecting rubber ducks. I buy them from shops or Ebay or my friends bring one as a present. It makes me feel happy and calm to organise them neatly in rows. I’m also ambassador for Follow Your Dreams, a charity in Wales for children and people with special needs. I help them by using Zoom to teach sign language. I love to perform songs with Makaton signs and share them with friends on social media. My Facebook blog - ‘Thanet Legend Wilfred Jenkins’ - has 1,300 followers. Come and join me!”
Tyron Woolfe
Tyron delicately balances a pile of rainbow-coloured blocks. We had this idea because, as Chair of Deaf Rainbow UK, he supports some of the deaf community’s often more vulnerable members - those who are lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender. “Am I looking too serious?” he asks before breaking into his trademark cheeky grin. After eleven years leading National Deaf Children’s Society’s youth work, Tyron is now Executive Director (maternity cover) at Deafinitely Theatre. Tyron’s deaf family descends from seven generations of deaf people of British-Dutch-Portugeuse Jewish lineage. A year ago, we found - to mutual astonishment - he and I are distantly related via marriage between my wife Emma’s deaf great-uncle and his mother’s deaf aunt. It’s a small world.
Sahera Khan
“I’m not interested in fame, just want to share my stories,” says Sahera, who has written nine books on Kindle and is currently writing two more. As a devout Muslim, deaf, BSL woman, and graduate of Birkbeck University, Sahera’s kick-ass story is all about defying the stereotypes. As a freelance author, actress, film-maker and You Tube influencer, Sahera tackles topics as wide-ranging as her religious faith and deaf rights. Her latest film - 'Faith' - won a Best Storyline Award from New Zealand Deaf Short Film Festival 2020. She is also trustee for the Deaf Ethnic Women’s Association: “We support BME women to exercise choice and control without compromising their identity”. Sahera also holds a red belt in Muy Thai and Kickboxing. “I love how it gives strength, balance and confidence.”
Martin Glover
“As an architect, I find solutions,” says Martin. “It’s about joining up structure, space and society.” As a mixed-race son of British and Nigerian ancestry, Martin has an insatiable curiosity about life. His volunteer experience in Zimbabwe - on a hospital build project - changed him forever. “After that, I decided my life’s purpose was supporting people. So, I’ve had a career in both architecture and mental health and arts services for deaf people.” Eight years ago, Martin co-founded Digitspace to lead BSL-guided tours of prestigious venues like the TATE and Design Museum. His latest niche is BSL street art tours. As Martin and I wandered London’s Hoxton district, he suddenly spotted a photo opportunity. In a flash, he climbed 10 feet onto a shelter to pose for this. That’s another thing I love about Martin. His sense of adventure.
Pauline Latchem
“Deaf people suffer mental health issues at about twice the rate of the general population,” says Pauline. As a qualified counsellor who supports clients with anxiety, depression or suicidal thoughts, she adds, “the research is clear: deaf clients benefit from deaf counsellors who can empathise and communicate." Pauline's own personal well being activities include getting out into nature and swimming all year-round in local rivers and lakes. "Cold water swimming makes me feel alive and connected - floating in silky water in the open air watching wildlife through the changing seasons is a joyous antidote to stress, soothing the body and calming the mind.” My wife Emma joined Pauline for this swim in a Hertfordshire river. The water was icy. I was happy to just stand on the bank and take the photos.
Vilma Jackson
Vilma is a British performance artist who grew up in Mozambique, a country that takes diversity in its stride. At boarding school in Portugal, she was judged and humiliated for her skin colour. On arriving. in London, Vilma learnt hard truths: “The fact that I’m a woman is a challenge in a world ruled mostly by men. Being black on top of my gender does not always make things easier. Being Deaf on top of all this can make it even harder.” Even so, Vilma is fulfilling her dreams. Her award-winning film Triple Oppression challenges the world to harness deaf talents. It also sends a positive message to deaf people: “If I can get through it, so can you. I hope you find the fire inside yourselves and don’t allow society to stop you achieving your goals. I want you to be fierce in a positive way. Work hard. Struggle. Experience success.”
Sarah Scott
“We deafies benefit from yoga as much as anyone, if not more so,” says Sarah Scott. “All the stresses of the hearing world creeps into our necks, backs and posture.” As a qualified yoga teacher, Sarah uses sign language to make her practice accessible. “I support people to align mind and body with physical and mental needs, the seasons and moon cycles, space and place.“ As one of Sarah’s regular Friday night students, I can certainly feel the benefit. “One of the nice things about yoga,” adds Sarah, “Is you can do it at home with no equipment needed. Just a room and a mat.”: Like many deafies, Sarah was forced to adapt her business in response to the Covid-19 pandemic and now offers online sessions. So, we did our shoot via a Zoom session too. Namaste!
Astra and Ilyaas Cader
If the power of love blurs national boundaries, the same is true of deafness. “I was the youngest in a Sri Lankan Tamil family of eight,” says Ilyaas. “During the civil war, I was at high risk from gunfire and bombs. I fled to Russia, walked all the way to Germany and finally England. Several refugees in our group died on the journey.” After settling in London, Ilyaas met Astra. She grew up in a Lithuanian farm village before it was liberated from the Russians. “I immediately I fell in love with Ilyaas’ infectious smile,” says Astra.” “We come from very different cultures” says Ilyaas, “but we had so much in common and a natural empathy with each other.” Now married with two kids, Ilyaas is a senior mental health care worker and Astra is a teaching assistant. They also offer foster care to young deaf people. “We help them to develop life skills and independence,” says Astra. “We want them to overcome adversity, just like we did too.”
Laurence Banks
At first, Laurie seems the kindly type who opens doors for old folks. He certainly is, but scratch beneath the surface and you’ll find a strong belief in standing up for deaf rights, a refusal to be pushed aside. Born deaf after his mother took her prescribed pills during pregnancy, Laurie was a design engineer at British Aerospace “building structures to withstand 500 mph speeds at 30,000 ft”. After redundancy, he retrained to teach in deaf schools for 25 years. “I felt it so important the pupils had adult deaf role models to aspire to. I was angry at the culture of low expectations that held so many back”. Laurie also made time to graduate with a theology degree and work as human rights advocate and volunteer in Bolivia and east Africa.
Petra Claydon-Drummond
“All my life, I’ve had dogs,” says Petra. “I found it difficult to hear the doorbell and other sounds around the house. I missed a lot. My family thought I should have a dog. So I did. It’s really helped me a lot and changed my life." "I’ve had Piper for eight years and he’s like a best friend, goes everywhere with me. We love going for a walk along the beaches.” Scottish-born-and-bred, Petra teaches sign language at St Andrews University, while also running her own interior design and antique business. “I’m always in my little home studio making fabrics, sewing, painting or crafts. It’s my special place.”
Funda and Ebrahim Saleh
“Ebrahim and I first met after I arrived at Mill Hill School for Deaf Children,” says Funda.”We had much in common as I’d only just arrived in England, aged 5 from Turkey, and he at the same age from India”.
“She was a keen swimmer,” recalls Ebrahim, “so we went to the local pool at weekends.” Funda declares that she’s the more art-y person while Ebrahim’s good with the numbers. So, Funda graduated from Epsom School of Art - where she won a UK-wide first prize in a fashion competition, while Ebrahim qualified as accountant. (By the way, he looks after my tax account too). On this late summer evening, we went for a stroll along the beach at Saltdean, near Brighton. As the sun set and the sea waves rolled onto the shore, they looked exactly what they are: childhood sweethearts.
Angelina Pullen
“It upsets me to think of older deaf people being emotionally neglected just because their care staff can’t use sign language,” says Angelina. As activities coordinator at the Isle of Wight’s Easthill Home for Deaf People, she supports residents with additional physical or mental health needs. “I sit down and use my BSL to tune into their individual needs and wants. Just because someone has, say, dementia, doesn’t mean they can’t make choices or express a preference. We offer crafts, games, puzzles, board games, do sign-songs, fitness exercises, support online family chats. If they choose, we might go out for coffee, do shopping, visit the beach. I’m a people-person, I love my job. But it’s heart-breaking that Easthill is still one of just a handful of specialist deaf homes in the UK. I feel strongly every region should have one.”
Kimberly Isuru-Ajaguna and Roumy Ngassa
"We’ve been schoolmates since we were eight,” says Roumy (right), “Now we’re friends for life". Kimberly adds: "If things get tough in the hearing world, we can lean on each other." As the duo pose on their last day at Blanche Nevile Secondary School, they’ve made their plans: “We are sad to leave but it’s time to start a new chapter,” says Kimberly. “We’ll go to college and study social care because it's important that people look after each other." It’s a good choice as the highly-popular Kimberly was voted by her peers at the school leavers prom for the Jack Petchey 2021 Award for her helpfulness to others. Roumy's passion for football saw her chosen to play for St John's Deaf Women’s Football Club. "I love being part of a team. I play midfield. It's my job to link the defence and forwards."
John Wilson
“I’ve a passion for looking at how indigenous people in different cultures live”, says John - a graduate of the School of Oriental and African Studies. “Exploring the similarities and differences in their histories enables me to challenge the one-sided history handed down to us.”John has also worked at the world-famous British Museum. From there, he joined SHAPE to improve access for deaf people to the arts, including museums and galleries. “Being a Deaf art guide enables me to offer a different perspective.” Here he is at Tate Britain interpreting a major exhibition on Queer Britain, another topic close to his heart. Oh, and one other fact I’d like you to know about John: it was he who introduced me to the love of my life, my wife Emma (in 1987 at a deaf club Christmas party). Thanks, mate!
Dani Sive
Not only are most of the staff at London’s Frank Barnes School deaf themselves - which is rare - but the school headteacher is too. Step forward, Dani. “I love teaching,” he says. "When I grew up in South Africa, I was the only deaf kid in secondary school,. So I know how important and motivational it is for our pupils to look up to deaf adult role models.” As Dani takes me on a classroom tour, we spot a photo opportunity on the A-Z fingerspelling floor mat. As Dani proudly explains: “Five years ago, we had a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to move into a new custom-built site. So, we consulted a deaf architect, as well as the staff, and everything - from the structure to lighting, acoustics to colours - is designed with our deaf pupils in mind. For me, only the best will do.”
Poppy
And deaf children should have a voice too: In the shadow of Millicent Fawcett - one of the leading Suffragettes, the early campaigners for women’s rights - five-year old Poppy (not her real name) waves a home-made banner: ‘DON’T LEAVE DEAF CHILDREN BEHIND’. On a hot summer’s day, Poppy and her family joined other members of the National Deaf Children’s Society (NDCS) for a march through Westminster to protest against government funding cuts to education for children with special needs. The deaf. struggle is endless and spans generations.
[Photo by Stephen Iliffe, reproduced by permission of National Deaf Children’s Society]
Harriet
And finally… introducing Harriet. At seven months, she, and other newly-arrived babies, are the future of our deaf community. As daughter of two proud deafies, Harriet will grow up in a bilingual household with positive adult role models. “Being deaf in a hearing world will never be easy,” says her Mum, “but we’ll raise Harriet as an assertive and proud girl who can stand up for herself. And just because she’s deaf, it doesn’t mean she can’t do anything that hearing people can do.” Harriet’s Dad agrees: “Who knows what the future will be like for deaf people when she’s older. Law, technology and society will have changed yet again. But we’ll make sure she thrives no matter what!” During our shoot, Harriet was mostly interested in just looking around and rolling on the floor. But then, for a few moments, she lifted her head and gazed into the lens…
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