Benjamin Piwko

Look at me while you speak, and do not turn away. Speak normally, not in slow motion and without exaggerated mouth movements. Make sure there is good light and do not stand with your back to the window. Keep your mouth free, so no hand in front of it and no chewing gum. Use short, clear sentences. If a word does not come across, use another one instead of repeating it. Write down important things like times, addresses or names, or type them into your phone.

German Sign Language is not lip reading with hands, it is a complete language of its own with its own grammar. The sentence I am going to Berlin tomorrow becomes Tomorrow Berlin I go. A sign has four parts: hand shape, hand position, place in space and movement. Facial expression is not decoration, it is grammar. Raised eyebrows signal a question, for example. And there is no world sign language. In the United States it is ASL, in Germany DGS, and even here there are regional dialects.

Hello. Move the flat hand with closed fingers briefly from the temple forward and outward, with a smile. Thank you. Place the fingertips of the flat hand briefly on the chin and move the hand, palm up, slightly forward towards the other person. Please. Place the flat hand on the centre of your chest and make a small circular movement. Sorry. Make a loose fist with the thumb on top, and stroke the edge of the hand gently across the cheek from back to front.

Always address the Deaf person directly, in the first person, so How are you and not Ask him how he is. The interpreter is a neutral voice, not a conversation partner, and conveys everything one to one. Speak at a normal pace and pause briefly after important thoughts, because the transfer needs a few seconds. Make sure there is a good line of sight, so the Deaf person can see you and the interpreter at the same time.

Many judgements about Deaf people come from not knowing, not from ill will. One example is the smile. When I smile and nod, I often mean: I am friendly towards you. Hearing people sometimes read it as: yes, I understood everything. It can even happen that I keep smiling while something unkind is said next to me, simply because I do not catch it.

Another example is being called from behind. When someone calls after me from behind, I keep walking, because I do not notice it. Some then feel ignored and think I am arrogant or rude. But it is not intent. I only wish for a short moment of thought: perhaps this person is Deaf.

Disabilities cannot simply be equated. Each shapes daily life differently. Someone in a wheelchair overcomes barriers in space but has full access to spoken language. For me it is the other way around. I move freely, yet the barrier sits in communication. We can share experiences with barriers, but the kind of disability stays unique and needs its own consideration.

The core is language. German is often like a foreign language to me, I think and feel in signs. Society is built entirely on sound, announcements, bells, calls, the telephone. None of that reaches me. So I live right among people and am still often alone, as long as no one builds a bridge.

Deafness is invisible. You cannot see it on me, and that is exactly what causes misunderstandings. If I do not react, some think I am arrogant. But I simply did not notice. Speaking louder or shouting does not help, it comes across as aggressive. What helps is eye contact, good light and clear, visible communication.

Deafness has nothing to do with intelligence. My sense for sound does not work, my mind works fully. If I hesitate in written language, that is not a mental limit, it is a second language. My first language is sign language. Many of us do not see ourselves as ill, but as a linguistic and cultural minority. Pity hurts, respect carries.

And when I seem serious and focused, it is not disinterest. I take in the whole room with my eyes, reading faces and connections, every second. My face works with me, it carries meaning. Please do not mistake this seriousness for coldness. See me as what I am, a person with a language and culture of his own.

And I am not a silent listener. I have my own opinion, and I want to say it, not just watch. Whoever talks with me is talking with a person who answers, not with an audience.

Being among hearing people all day takes courage and a great deal of patience. I have to stay alert all the time, read faces, guess the context, make sense of situations. It is work that no one sees. And still I move through the world openly and with a smile. A little understanding from the other side makes this path lighter.

For hearing people a shared meal is relaxation. For me it is hard work. The conversation jumps back and forth, one talks, one laughs, one cuts in. By the time I have turned my head to the new person, the sentence is already over. I am always a step behind. After half an hour of puzzling, the mind switches off, and I withdraw to my silent island and look at my plate.

The hard part is not the content I miss, it is the feeling behind it. When everyone keeps laughing without noticing that I am left out, you learn: my presence is wanted, my participation does not matter. Loneliness in the middle of a group hurts more than loneliness alone in a room. And when I then go quiet or sad, people quickly say, you are spoiling the mood.

A small example with fries hits the nail on the head. Hearing people often confuse missing information with missing intelligence. If someone only says, I am eating fries, they treat me like a child. I see very well myself, often faster than others. I do not want a description of the fries. I want to know why you are laughing, the joke, the gossip, the nonsense, the same as everyone at the table.

When I want to explain it to hearing people, I like to say: imagine you are at an important dinner with eight people, and everyone speaks fluent Chinese. You understand not a word. Now and then someone looks at you, smiles, pats your shoulder and says in English, we are eating fries. Then everyone keeps talking for three hours, laughing, arguing, having fun. How would you feel? That is exactly how I feel at some tables.

The solution is not magic, it is respect. Speak one at a time, raise a hand briefly before answering, good light, face free. Translate everything, do not filter, even the bad joke, because I have the same right to it. Announce a change of topic. And it is best when someone actively pulls me in: what do you think about this? Then I am not sitting beside it, then I am part of it. And when it gets hard, a live caption app on the phone, such as Ava or automatic transcription, helps by writing down what is being said.

Download my practical sheet, Am Tisch dabei, German PDF ↓

Deaf people are often silenced in daily life, not with force, but with the power of communication. It takes away my own voice, and that hurts, at the family table, among friends, in a meeting, with the press and on set.

It shows in four ways. First, talking over my head: at the doctor or the authorities, people look only at the interpreter or the relative and ask, what does he want, while I sit there like air. Second, fast and loud crosstalk that deliberately leaves a person behind. Third, the brush off, oh, nothing important, I will tell you later, which then never happens. And fourth, the prejudice that whoever does not speak has no idea, so that a strong opinion in sign language is quickly labelled hysterical or aggressive.

This is not a small thing. It switches off a thinking, grown person and decides over their head what they are allowed to know. This is exactly how trust, relationships and good cooperation fall apart.

But I am not speechless. I have one of the most powerful languages in the world. What helps is simple: look at me, I am the person you are talking to. Talk with me, not about me. When it gets too fast, write it down briefly. And the interpreter carries my voice, they do not replace it. On equal terms, everything is possible, in private and at work.

I speak plainly, because honest is honest. Love is not an object, it is human. A relationship between a Deaf and a hearing person rarely fails because of love. It fails because of the imbalance. Often the hearing partner learns only a few signs, just as many as suits them. For deep talks, for feelings and for arguments, that is not enough. The whole adapting then falls on me, every day, in my own home.

Then there is being made small. When someone trusts me with nothing, mothers me or decides over my head, they take my dignity. And when people talk about me instead of with me, quickly, in a whisper, behind my back, I am made invisible in my own life. I do not make myself small, and I do not endlessly adapt to a hearing world.

Many Deaf people are endlessly patient for years. When the anger finally comes, people quickly say, look how aggressive you are. But this anger is not an attack, it is a cry after years of helplessness. That needs to be understood, not labelled.

And it can be different. There are wonderful hearing people. A relationship works when the person truly learns sign language, not out of duty, but because they want to understand the other soul. When everyone signs when guests visit, so no one is left out. When they see me as a strong, independent partner, not a project. That is justice, and it is beautiful.

I know both worlds, I am at home in both. That is why I am glad to build bridges, for film, for business and for politics, and to find good solutions together. Because the biggest barrier rarely sits in the ear. It sits in the attitude. Whoever is ready to open their eyes and understand a visual world only gains from it.

In a family of Deaf and hearing people, the language at the dinner table decides everything. When the hearing parent only speaks and drops the signing, the child quickly learns: spoken language has more power here. The child often stops signing, not out of ill will, but because children adapt to what is shown to them. And the Deaf parent sits there alone, like a guest in their own home.

For a bilingual family to stay happy, one simple rule helps: when a Deaf person is in the room, everyone signs, always. The hearing partner shows the child that accessibility at home is not negotiable, and encourages the child to sign with the Deaf parent. Hearing children of Deaf adults, the Codas, grow up with two languages and two cultures. That is a strength, not a lack.

There is good help for this. The association Coda d.a.ch. organises Koda camps and family weeks where children meet others like them and grow proud of sign language. In case of conflict, the EUTB offices and the Deaf associations advise for free and in sign language. No one has to solve this alone.

Inclusion is a beautiful word, but often it stays decoration, a logo in a company brochure. And treating everyone the same is not yet fair. An elephant cannot climb a tree like a squirrel. Treat them as equal, and the elephant always loses.

For me it is about justice, not sameness. Every person needs what fits them. I call it inclusion plus, an upgrade, not an old label. Hearing people can learn sign language, the other way around is not possible. Real participation means taking that difference seriously. This is exactly what I am glad to advise on, and where we have good answers.

Ableism means judging people with a disability by how well they function or how useful they are. Anyone who does not fit the invented norm is quickly seen as defective or pitiable. For Deaf people, audism is added, the devaluation that makes hearing the measure of everything.

In daily life this shows on three levels. First, seeing deafness only as a defect to be repaired, without seeing its own language and culture. Second, being patronised, when people at the doctor or the authorities prefer to talk to the interpreter or relatives rather than to me. Third, barriers, because the world is built for hearing people, such as announcements without text or videos without subtitles and without sign language.

The most important sentence of the disability movement is: nothing about us without us. Deaf people want to sit at the table as experts from the start in everything that concerns them, not to be asked once everything has already been decided.

This includes an unbureaucratic right to interpreters, at work, at the doctor and in court, a bilingual education with sign language and written language from an early age, and real accessibility, also from private companies. This is not special treatment, it is justice.

In Germany there are rights meant to protect and support Deaf people at work, set out mainly in the Ninth Social Code, SGB IX. They include special protection against dismissal from a degree of disability of fifty, a few extra days of leave per year, and interpreter costs for meetings and training being covered by the integration office.

There is also support for the workplace, such as light signal systems or suitable technology. This is a rough overview and does not replace advice in an individual case. But it shows that working well with Deaf employees is very doable.

I am glad to give interviews and insights, always with an interpreter. One thing matters to me: I read the text before publication, so that no misunderstandings appear. I speak openly about my work, my roles, martial arts and attitude. My private life stays private and is not put on public display. Please no gossip, no rumours, and nothing about me without me. Enquiries come directly to me, then we find the right format.

I play lead and character roles, including ones not written Deaf from the start. Behind the camera I advise on authentic Deaf characters, develop Cine Fight choreography and train the actors beforehand. A character comes alive through signs, gaze and presence. Let us talk about your production.

At events it is about encounter and exchange, not a show. I do not perform martial arts on stage. I bring people and two worlds together, I talk about infrastructure and bridges, and about how we can work together and turn ideas into action. If an appearance is wanted, we shape it flexibly, with or without a dance choreography with Isabel Edvardsson, with or without a talk, depending on the occasion, see Isabel-Benjamin.com. Tell me the occasion, place and setting, and I will make a proposal.

I know both worlds and am glad to advise, from visible accessibility in public transport to joint bilingual learning and offices with video interpreting. What matters to me: nothing about us without us, and solutions that help everyone, including older people, tourists and commuters. I am happy to come to the table.

I give talks and workshops and show young people how visual communication works and how inclusion plus succeeds. My wish is that Deaf, hard of hearing and hearing children learn together early. Then prejudice disappears by itself. I am glad to come to your school or university.

For companies I advise on real accessibility and on working with Deaf employees on equal terms. It is very doable and rewarding, from communication to technology to attitude. I show how good intentions become real participation. Write to me and we will look at your situation.