Touch the future A manifesto in essays

DeafBlind poet Clark (How to Communicate) serves up passionate meditations on the DeafBlind Protactile movement--which he suggests is characterized by a focus on establishing greater autonomy for DeafBlind people and "throw out many norms and values imposed by sighted society," such as taboos against touching others. In "Always Be Connected," Clark traces the movement's origins to a 2007 shortage of sighted ASL interpreters in Seattle that prompted DeafBlind community leaders to hold meetings without them, organically producing new means of communication. Clark notes that ASL posed difficulties for DeafBlind people, who would listen by placing their hands over a speaker's hands as they signed despite only 30% of ASL being decipherable by touch, so when the Seattle DeafBlind community decided to forge ahead without interpreters, they developed an ASL offshoot, called Protactile, that uses intricate systems of touch to communicate. Clark's bracing perspectives are sure to stimulate, as in "Against Access," where he argues that many so-called accessibility measures aim to replicate the experience of sighted people at the expense of usability, such as video transcripts that open with overly detailed image descriptions, which, for Clark, only serve as obstacles to reading the more substantial parts of the video. Lucid and incisive, this is not to be missed. (Oct.)

A Deaf-Blind poet and teacher tells his story with fervor and wisdom. As a young boy living with Usher syndrome, which affects both hearing and vision, Clark, author of the poetry collection How To Communicate, met his hero in his parents' basement. A family friend, Leslie, who was a Deaf-Blind activist and beloved community member, opened the door for him to one day write this book. With Leslie's charisma and talent for storytelling, he was an excellent instructor to the world of Protactile learning, which uses touch and signing to communicate and navigate. "To say [Protactile] is a movement Deaf-Blind people are leading isn't wrong," writes the author. "To say it's a new language enlisting tactile properties never before used in human communication is to state a fact. To say it's reinventing everything isn't hyperbole." In these compelling essays, Clark warmly welcomes us into this "new world," and his charm graces nearly every page. The author is a character in his own essays, weaving fables and legends together with undeniable craft. Funny, angry, and heroic, Clark is an amiable guide as he takes us through discourse on issues such as inclusivity, translators, government policy, and education, as well as theater, architecture, and art. One of the author's grievances is "distantism," which "privileges the distance senses of sight and hearing to the exclusion of other ways of being in the world." At the same time, he writes, "touch is considered disposable. Our governments have never been good with multiple nuanced solutions. They always go for One Answer. We also live in a society that's very comfortable with leaving people behind." Throughout this lively journey, Clark, like Leslie before him, relishes his ability to tell tales, break rules, and possibly change the world. An epic and riotous book. Ignore it, and you might get left behind. Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.