Indigenous and Deaf People and the Implications of Ongoing Practices of Colonization: A Comparison of Australia and Canada

Abstract

In the growing field of colonial and anti-colonial research, many parallels have been drawn between Westernized countries including Australia and Canada. In both of these countries, there is considerable academic, community and governmental recognition of historic, and continuing, colonizing of Indigenous peoples and the subsequent impacts on Indigenous cultures. Terms such as transgenerational trauma and intergenerational trauma give language to the ongoing impact of colonization on communities, which in turn serves to legitimize the need for mental wellbeing supports and associated funding. However, there are other minority communities that are similarly oppressed and colonized but do not experience the same legitimization. One such community is the Deaf community. Deaf people continue to experience systemic oppression and colonization within our hearing centric society. Building on the work of Batterbury, Ladd and Gulliver (2007), we extend discussions on the parallels between Indigenous and Deaf communities of Australia and Canada, drawing on the established and commonly discussed link between the impact of racism and colonization on (mental) health. We connect these discussions to modern instances of colonization including the aspect of deaf education to illustrate a “living” mechanism through which colonization continues to impact mental wellbeing in the broader Deaf community.

Personal Reflective Statements

Dr. Tracey Bone is a hearing white woman and the youngest sister of a profoundly and prelingually Deaf older brother, the only deaf person in the known family history. Experiencing Sign Language in the home, Tracey quickly became intrigued. She later engaged in American Sign Language (ASL) classes and ASL Immersion courses to gain skills as a method to bridge the language divide in her family, and engage with the local Deaf community. She continues to engage with the Deaf community through various projects, research, private practice, and social events. Tracey is a social work professor in Canada with a passion for mental health and effective communication. She engages with members of the local Deaf community herself, and invites members of the Deaf community into her courses to enhance students’ awareness and understanding of Deaf culture, Sign Language, and the Deaf community as a whole.

Dr. Erin Wilkinson is a deaf woman from a hearing, white, middle-class family and grew up in a Midwestern city in the United States. When her family discovered that Erin was deaf when she was one year old, they decided to take sign classes in order to communicate with Erin. Erin was mainstreamed for most of her education with the support of signed language interpreters. Erin communicates in Turkish Sign Language at home with her husband who hails from a small village in Turkey. Living on the traditional homelands of the Pueblo of Sandia, Erin is a linguistics professor at the University of New Mexico and studies bilingualism in signing population, sign language policy, language change and variation in signed languages, and signed language typology.

Currently residing on the lands of Turrbal and Yugara people in Australia, Dr. Danielle Ferndale is a hearing white woman with multiple privileged identities. Danielle became a student of Australian Sign Language in 2011 after being introduced to deaf experiences in 2009 through a colleague who is Deaf and communicates through Australian Sign Language (Auslan). Motivated by the experiences of her Deaf colleagues and friends and the lack of research in Australia, Danielle completed her PhD in Psychology exploring the health disparities experienced by Australians with deaf experiences. Danielle continues to be a student of Auslan and being involved in various local Deaf community activities. Danielle is continuing to develop an understanding of what it means to have privilege, how that informs her opportunities, experiences and relationships and how this shapes her role as an ally to Deaf communities and similarly minoritized and oppressed groups in society.

Rodney Adams is a deaf Koori from Western New South Wales living on Darkinjung country on the NSW Central Coast. As an Adjunct Lecturer in Auslan and Deaf Studies at the University of Newcastle he is researching Indigenous sign languages and how their revitalization can have positive impacts on issues affecting deaf and hard of hearing (DHH) Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people. These efforts, not only strengthen the use, vitality and viability of Indigenous Sign Languages by both deaf and hearing people, but can have positive consequences beyond the revitalization of a language to influence on a greater scale the health, education and social and emotional wellbeing of users within Indigenous communities.

Terminology Conventions and the Construction of Meaning

Conventions around the use of terminology such as Indigenous, First Nations, Aboriginal and/or Torres Strait Islander, Inuit and Metis, little “d” deaf and big “D” Deaf, d/Deaf, Sign Language Peoples, hard-of-hearing and deafness have developed over time but these terms, and the meanings attached to them, continue to be contested (Kusters, De Meulder, and O’Brien 2017; Westby and Inglebret 2012). We recognize that the use of any such terminology homogenizes and simplifies what are fluid, intersectional, personal and social, and therefore complex experiences (Ruiz-Williams et al. 2015). We further acknowledge that terminology and construction of meaning has been and is problematically influenced by hearing people. The complexity of the discussions around terminology are beyond the scope of this paper. In order to operate within the Journal restrictions, we use a range of terminology in the article below that we recognize is socially and historically located, and that continues to homogenize people and their experiences.

Within this paper when referring specifically to the First Peoples of Australia, terms such as Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples, Australia’s First Peoples or Indigenous peoples will be used. The First inhabitants of Canada include First Nations, Inuit and Metis peoples and within this paper will be collectively referred to as either Aboriginal or Indigenous Peoples of Canada. When referring to both the First peoples of Australia and Canada, we will use the common and more current vernacular term “Indigenous.” Our intention is not to homogenize or dismiss the various language groups and their differences but rather respect the collective First Peoples of Australia and Canada.

The term we will use to refer to people who experience deafness and primarily communicate through a manual signed language that is not the dominant oral language, and who are consequently marginalized and disadvantaged within society as a result of their deafness and language, is “Deaf.” Following current common convention, Deaf community and Deaf culture are terms we will use to refer to the communities and cultures that are characterized as people who have deaf experiences, view signed languages as their primary languages, and because of this, have constructed linguistic-cultural norms unique to their communities (Lane 2005). When specifically referring to the Deaf community in Australia or Canada we are referring to the people residing in the country rather than their nationality (i.e., including refugees, immigrants and permanent residents). Furthermore, we are not referring to people who may be losing or have lost their hearing, who primarily identify with the dominant hearing cultures and oral languages, and who do not recognize or value the Deaf culture as a part of their experience or identity. The term “deaf” (lowercase “d”) is used to describe/refer to the biological or corporeal experience of deafness ¹ (Kusters et al. 2017). For young people with corporeal deafness who are in the early life stage of identity development, and who may not yet have had, or have been denied the opportunity to access Deaf cultures, we will use the phrasing “young people with deaf experiences” to refer to this group.

Brief Introduction to Deaf Culture

Similar to Indigenous communities, there is no single Deaf community. Rather, Deaf communities around the world are unique and complex cultures with their own language, history, values, customs, arts and humor, with Deaf people in different countries constituting distinct minoritized groups among the dominant culture(s) (Lane 2005; Petitto 2014). Signed languages are the primary languages of Deaf communities. Signed languages are visual-spatial languages with their own unique grammar including phonology, lexicon and syntax. Generally speaking, each country has its own natural and recognized signed language, with countries also having various dialects that may not be formally recognized. Australian Sign Language (Auslan) is one of many signed languages in Australia with Indigenous Sign Languages experiencing a resurgence in the Northern Areas of Australia (Adams and Crowe, 2020). In Canada, American Sign Language (ASL), Langue des Signes Québécoise (LSQ), and Indigenous Sign Languages are recognized as Sign Languages in Canada. The first is used in English-speaking Canada, the second is the dominant Sign Language used in Deaf communities in francophone Canada, the third refers to endangered language variations used by Indigenous peoples in Canada (Rice 2020; Snoddon and Wilkinson 2019). Like all cultures, Deaf communities are heterogenous with additional layers of diversity (e.g., in the cause and degree of hearing loss, educational background, communication methods and fluency). The majority of Deaf people do not share their culture with their biological parents or family, with approximately 95 percent of young deaf people in Westernized nations born into hearing families (Mitchell and Karchmer 2004). Consequently, Deaf people have what Solomon (2012) refers to as a horizontal identity; they learn much about Deaf culture not from their parents but their peers within the Deaf community. ² Indigenous children however, historically inherit their identity/culture from at least one biological parent or grandparent (vertical identity). One consequence of colonization, is that Indigenous children may now be disconnected from that identity and culture, and in this way, Indigenous children and young people with deaf experiences share similar experiences.

There are numerous points of comparison between Indigenous cultures and Deaf cultures; both cultures are deemed to be collectivist communities and both emphasize a connection of belonging to something, be it the land or sign language (Batterbury et al. 2007). Most notably, both populations have a strong commitment to community and family (beyond the traditional Western definition of biological family) tending toward “high context” cultures where relationships build slowly and depend on trust, individual identity is rooted within groups, social structures are centralized, change is slow and is a process that belongs to others and nature (Leigh 2009; Westby and Inglebret 2012). Hearing and white cultures, however, tend be low context where progress is goal oriented, individual identity is rooted within that person, privacy is important, and time and change are both scheduled and viewed as a commodity. Both Indigenous communities and Deaf communities recognize and respect Elders or seniority within the community, acknowledging historical and future Elders and leaders and their contribution to the wellbeing of the community and the culture.

The impact of colonization by nonindigenous, and hearing people was and is felt in many areas of the lives of Indigenous and Deaf people. Colonization occurs through societal systems and colonial structures that serve to maintain the material and symbolic privilege of one (dominant) group over another (subjugated) group (Paradies 2016). Practices of colonization include war, displacement, forced labor, removal of children, relocation of communities, ecological destruction, massacres, genocide, slavery, introduction of diseases, regulation of marriage and reproduction, assimilation and the banning of languages and/or eradication of social, cultural and spiritual practices (Evans-Campbell 2008; Glenn 2015). Currently, understandings of the impact of colonization are largely applied to Indigenous communities. This is evident in the recent development of constructs such as historical, inter, multi and generational trauma (Paradies 2016). These constructs serve to recognize both the historical and ongoing impact of colonization on Indigenous peoples’ (mental) health, beyond the everyday determinants of health. Currently, there is no similar recognition for Deaf communities, yet there are major parallels between the communities. Colonization, not only alienates First Nations peoples’ connections to their land, but is accompanied by attacks on connections to their language, their culture, and kin (Scholfield and Gilroy 2015). While our discussion centers around colonization, we do not discuss or critique the theory of colonization itself. Rather the purpose of this paper is to use colonization as a vehicle to discuss the similarities between the experiences of these two complex groups; to point to the lack of recognition hearing societies give to historic and ongoing practices of harm toward Deaf communities, such as diminishing the importance of sign languages, as well as the importance that public acknowledgment can bring to learning from past mistakes and re-building trust.

Shared History of Colonization

In the following discussion, we highlight examples of colonization of First Peoples of Australia and Canada across various social domains and draw parallels with Deaf communities of Australia and Canada within each domain. Acknowledging our limitations, our intention with this comparison is to invite discussion as to how constructs that recognize and validate the ongoing harm of colonization could be applied to Deaf communities. It is beyond the scope of this paper to provide a comprehensive discussion of all social domains and complexity within each domain, rather we are initiating a discussion and extend an invitation to identify ways to recognize and challenge colonization and systems of oppression.

Eugenics and Constructions of Humanness

An examination of the history of Indigenous and Deaf communities illustrates how non-indigenous and hearing people have subjected these communities to policies and practices of eugenics, experiences of being dehumanized and restrictions in access to language and culture in the name of assimilation into dominant white, hearing society.

Since their arrival into Australia in 1788, European invaders sought to remove, merge and absorb Australia’s First Peoples into white culture (Human Rights and Equal Opportunity Commission 1997) through policies and acts of violence, dispossession of land, erosion of culture and identity, disease, imprisonment, slavery and forced child removals (Menzies 2019). Policies sought to eradicate First Peoples through “biological absorption,” depriving children of their family, identity, language and culture and forcing them to assimilate into non-indigenous society (Human Rights and Equal Opportunity Commission [Australia] 1997; Menzies 2019). The 1997 report, “Bringing them home,” provides a detailed account of the history of the forced removal of children in Australia, known as the Stolen Generations, including the laws, practices and policies that were implemented to “legalize” these acts, as well as the immediate and long term consequences of these acts. The laws and policies in effect during that time (written and implemented by non-indigenous people) meant that non-indigenous people were defining humanness and defining “aboriginality.” The invader’s efforts to dehumanize First Peoples and eradicate their culture not only continue to be perpetrated today, but have had far reaching effects that continue to be felt (e.g. Australian National Audit Office 2018; Roffee 2016; Reconciliation Australia n.d.), as will be discussed below.

Similarly, in Canada, between 1870 and 1996, Indigenous children were removed from their homes and forced to attend state-run religious schools (Miller 2012). Defined as Indian Residential schools, the goal of the system was to assimilate “Indians,” as they were then called, into non-indigenous Canadian society. Schools were intentionally located off-reserve as this separation from family, culture, traditions and spirituality was viewed to be the most effective way to facilitate the assimilation process. In 1920, Duncan Scott, then Minister of Indian Affairs in Canada is quoted as saying,

I want to get rid of the Indian problem.…. Our objective is to continue until there is not a single Indian in Canada that has not been absorbed into the body politic and there is no Indian question, and no Indian Department. (The Canadian Encyclopedia 2008, Treaty 9)

During the 1960s, however, a series of policies were enacted by provincial child welfare authorities to again remove Indigenous children from their traditional homes and families, this time into the child welfare systems; this phase in Canadian history is referred to as the 60s Scoop (Sinclair 2007). “Biological absorption” and genocide (Gilmore and Moffett 2020; Human Rights and Equal Opportunity Commission [Australia] 1997), was further enacted by non-indigenous people in Australia and Canada through the sexual exploitation of young Indigenous women, and systemic practices facilitating the forced and coerced contraceptive practices and sterilizations of Indigenous women (Patel 2017; Stote 2015).

The atrocities and long term implications of the Stolen Generation in Australia (Human Rights and Equal Opportunity Commission [Australia] 1997), the 60s Scoop in Canada (Sinclair 2007) and sterilization practices have recognizable parallels with “movements” and decisions made by hearing people in relation to the dehumanization of Deaf people, deaf marriages, sterilizations and the banishment of Sign Languages (Chamberland 2013). Informed by the erroneous assumption that to be Deaf is to be “less than” and because Deaf people, Sign Languages and Deaf culture do not conform to dominant Western ideals of “normal,” hearing people have attempted to eradicate or interrupt generational growth (Branson and Miller 1993; Deaf Services 2018; Edwards 2005).

Alexander Graham Bell, a significant figure in Deaf history, was known to believe that deafness could be “bred” out through encouraging deaf people to marry hearing people,

The deaf-mutes think in the gesture language, and English is apt to remain a foreign tongue. They can communicate with hearing persons by writing, but they often write in broken English, as a foreigner would speak. They think in gestures, and often translate into written English with the idioms of the sign language. The constant practice of the sign language interferes with the mastery of the English language, and it is to be feared that comparatively few of the congenitally deaf are able to read books understandingly unless couched in simple language. They are thus in a great measure cut off from our literature. This is another element in forcing them into each other’s society. (Bell 1883:42)

Bell’s unpublished treatise demonstrates colonizing language such that there are two distinct cultures, hearing and deaf, and one is positioned as more highly valued and superior to the other (Batterbury et al. 2007; Leigh 2009). Humphries, a Deaf man, defined this form of discrimination, prejudice or systemic oppression by hearing people against those who do not hear as “audism” in 1975 (Bauman 2004). Attempts to eradicate deafness (and therefore Deaf culture) also extend to genetic testing and gene-editing, the process of newborn hearing screening, the proliferation of cochlear implant technologies (Branson and Miller 1993; Burke 2017) and non-consensual or coerced sterilizations (Bell 1883; Greenwald 2009; Leigh 2009). Technology and practices such as these are particularly problematic because the inventors, decision makers and custodians of technologies and decisions likely do not have a lived experience or deep knowledge of Deaf culture. As the colonization of First Peoples has demonstrated, the implications of constructing any population of people as less than human can have serious and long term implications for not only the survival of those people and their physical and mental well-being (Human Rights and Equal Opportunity Commission [Australia] 1997) but also the opportunity for their rich culture to flourish and to contribute to the diversity of humanity. Constructions of humanness have further implications within the legal and civic systems.

Legal and Civic Rights

Civic rights are defined here as the shared legal, political and social rights of citizens that are provided for by Commonwealth and state laws (Chesterman 2005). Both Australia and Canada have a complex history in relation to Indigenous and Deaf peoples within Western systems including the court systems (e.g. as jurors, legal professionals), democratic voting proceedings and the census (population data). In both countries, First Peoples were and continue to be overrepresented as defendants in criminal trials and in prisons (Australian Law Reform Commission 2017; Department of Justice [Canada] 2019), though underrepresented both on juries (Anthony and Longman 2017; Ewanation, Maeder, and Dickson 2017) and within legal professions (Stanton 2010).

A national census program “provides a statistical portrait of a country” (Statistics Canada 2020). The concept of allocating resources around population size/demographics is problematic in and of itself; however, the process of counting people is additionally complicated by how (historically mostly white, hearing) governments count, or fail to accurately count, certain groups of people which contributes to inconsistent identification, and by extension, incomplete reporting of statistics (Elias, Busby, and Martens 2015). More than this, population statistics homogenize communities. People with intricate and complex identities are forced to fit themselves within predetermined categories that oversimplify their reality. Indigenous populations in Canada, for example, have been underrepresented due to systematic barriers that result in incompletely enumerated First Nation communities (Statistics Canada 2011). As population statistics guide budgetary priorities and the direction of support programs, inadequate population data disadvantages those inaccurately identified.

The absence of accurate population statistics on both Indigenous and Deaf communities serves to simplify and minimize the size of the respective communities and, by extension, the need for government spending and services (Griffiths and Smith 2020; Prout 2012). One area of relevance for this article is that of language use. This issue becomes complex for many of those within the Deaf communities as “language” can vary between contexts. A Deaf person may use home sign with their partner, a natural Signed Language with friends and family, and English in the workplace. It is not possible to capture this complexity with the 1 or 2 questions about “first” language use in the home currently asked in the Australian or Canadian census. Asking questions related to language used in the home also does not discriminate between Deaf and hearing signers and overlooks Deaf individuals who do not sign at home (Snoddon and Wilkinson 2019). Effectively, under these methodologies, Sign Language users could become invisible or erased from historical records. ³

In the legal context, failure to ensure language access creates barriers associated with the administration of justice. Many Indigenous and Deaf peoples’ first or preferred language is a language other than spoken English. In the Deaf community, language interpreters are intended to serve as conduits between spoken English and Sign Languages. Certified English and Sign Language interpreters, and particularly those with specialized skills to work in the legal system may not, however, be provided when requested by the Deaf person, thereby limiting effective two-way communication and the administration of justice (Russell, Chovaz, and Boudreault 2018). The refusal to provide effective language access in discussions with policing authorities, in the court system or in prisons (Russell, Chovaz, and Boudreault 2018) are such examples that deny Deaf people their basic civil rights (Australian Law Reform Commission 2017; Canadian Association of the Deaf 2015a). In Canada, the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms provides that every person is to receive “equal protection and benefit under the law, and without discrimination” (Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms 1982, Equality Rights). This same Charter also ensures legal rights, with a specific reference to section 14, “Interpreter.” It reads, “A party or witness in any proceedings who does not understand or speak the language in which the proceedings are conducted or who is deaf has the right to the assistance of an interpreter” (Canadian Charter 1982, s.7-14). The literature indicates that systematic mistreatment and the colonizing nature of the Australian and Canadian legal systems contribute to Indigenous and Deaf people’s high level of mistrust of the legal systems (Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Commission 1996; Productivity Commission 2014), and by extension, lack of equal access to their civil rights.

Colonization in Practice Today

Education

Historically, the forced removal and “assimilation” policies resulted in many young First Peoples being separated from their families and culture, educated in institutions, and indoctrinated into white systems of knowledge. Consequently, the passing on of cultural practices, beliefs and knowledge was disrupted (Human Rights and Equal Opportunity Commission [Australia] 1997). Despite increasing recognition of the devastating impact of past government policies and acts of colonization, Indigenous children are largely educated in mainstream schools. Evidence continues to show they experience barriers in accessing education, with poorer educational outcomes (Fogarty et al. 2018). Formal inquiries continue to offer recommendations that seek to increase the presence and inclusion of indigenous cultures and ways of knowing into mainstream education content (e.g. Aboriginal Languages and Torres Strait Islander Languages Framework 2015; Narragunnawali program of Reconciliation Australia).

Although historically young deaf peoples were similarly placed in residential institutions ⁴ away from their family, this facilitated the growth of Deaf culture and Signed Languages (Lane 2005; Leigh 2009). Throughout “recent” history, hearing people have largely dictated teaching pedagogy for young deaf peoples, thereby enacting colonization through controlling young Deaf peoples’ access to information and therefore, power (Batterbury et al. 2007). While other pedagogies have been introduced (e.g. bilingualism, total communication), oralism (teaching students via audition to learn to hear and speak) has dominated the education of young people with deaf experiences in Australia and Canada since the Second International Congress on the Education of the Deaf held in Milan in 1880 (Carbin 1996; Komesaroff 2003). In Australia and Canada young people with deaf experiences are predominantly educated in mainstream schools within “deaf units” (Marschark et al. 2012). Mainstream education can vary in how it is provided in practice; however, it largely includes the deaf student attending school with a dominant hearing student population, teachers who teach content using spoken language and content that reflects white, hearing, mainstream society. Students typically access academic information via audition supported by hearing aids, cochlear implants, Sign Language Models (e.g. a Deaf adult who serves as a language model for a Deaf child) and educational interpreters. The latter are often those without professional accreditation as an interpreter (Australian Sign Language Interpreters Association 2020; Manitoba Association of Visual Language Interpreters 2007), with minimal provision for language access outside of the academic classroom (Valentine and Skelton 2003). Young people who attend mainstream schools often experience language and cultural deprivation because they are isolated from other signing peers and adults throughout their education and formative years. Persistence in educating young people with deaf experiences in mainstream settings continues despite research evidence that “mainstreaming” disadvantages deaf students academically and socially (Marschark et al. 2009; Willoughby 2011).

Similar to First Peoples, Deaf peoples are fighting for recognition of their language and their culture, and the need to educate future generations in ways that support their learning needs, as well as support the development of their cultural identity. More than this, young deaf indigenous peoples are often deprived of learning about their Indigenous identity and culture and their Deaf culture and language. The education of young peoples from minoritized populations is dominated by white hearing people, including white and hearing people’s history and values. These serve as living, “benevolent” example of efforts to assimilate, integrate, and colonize young people into the dominant white and hearing culture (Lane 1992; Ladd 2003).

Health

The concept and definition of health in Australia and Canada is largely defined by biomedical definitions, within which, white and hearing are the norm. Western and hearing based values are embedded within hospitals and health services and practices of health (Kuenburg, Fellinger, and Fellinger 2016; The Lowitja Institute 2020). There is a growing number of (mental) health assessments developed to be psychometrically appropriate and specific for minoritized communities such as First Peoples and Deaf peoples (e.g. Jackson et al. 2019; Native Wellness Assessment 2015; Thomas et al. 2010). However, these ad hoc approaches do little to address colonization within the broader health system which then facilitates the systemic ignorance of the cultural and communication needs of these populations and can compound pre-existing feelings of mistrust and inferiority (Hoang et al. 2011; The Lowitja Institute 2020). It is further evident in Deaf peoples’ experiences of “forced trust” when working with interpreters in the health setting.

Due to the scarcity of available, appropriately certified and experienced interpreters, oftentimes in health settings, a Deaf person is expected to work with an interpreter they may not ordinarily choose or with whom they do not share identities (e.g. most hearing interpreters are non-indigenous). This requires the Deaf person to enter a space where they are simultaneously addressing their own health issues and constantly (re)assessing the interpreter’s competencies, a mentally and emotionally taxing task which creates a situation of “forced trust.” “Forced trust,” a term first introduced by article author Wilkinson, describes situations throughout a Deaf person’s lifetime that facilitate unbalanced dynamics of power; where a Deaf individual is forced to manage the additional burden of giving or developing trust with people (e.g. an interpreter) that are not always of their choosing to have equivalent access to the total environment. In contrast to hearing people who can seek professionals based on specific qualifications, attributions and experiences, Deaf people have limited options when choosing interpreters. In this way, current assignment of interpreter does not effectively address ongoing practices of colonization within the health system.

This colonization extends to the tertiary programs where health workers are educated and indoctrinated into the health system (Barnett 2002). Communication barriers to accessing tertiary education as a Deaf student, and a lack of content that reflects First peoples ways of knowing and healing, are some of the factors that see a lack of recruitment and retention of First peoples and Deaf people into tertiary education (Davy et al. 2016; McKee et al. 2013; Wright, Briscoe, and Lovett 2019). Consequently, First peoples and Deaf people are underrepresented as health workers (Australian Indigenous Doctors Association 2005; McKee et al. 2013; West, Usher, and Foster 2010). And although training in Indigenous ways of knowing and healing and “Deaf Awareness Training” is available, there are no mandated requirements that white and hearing health care workers complete this type of training before providing health services to these populations (Barnett 2002; Hoang et al. 2011). Colonization within the health system does little to (re)establish trust between white and hearing health professionals and First peoples and Deaf people.

Recognized Impact of Colonization on Mental and Physical Well-being

Formal apologies from both the Australian (2008) and Canadian (2008) Government have been issued for the historical atrocities committed by the invaders, Government and white society against the First peoples. Although these apologies do not make up for past (and ongoing) pain and trauma, they are important by way of legitimizing that trauma and opening doors to services and support. The terms “intergenerational trauma” (Herman 1992; Kellermann 2001), “transgenerational trauma” (Atkinson 2002) and “historical trauma” (Gone 2013; Kirmayer et al. 2014; Menzies 2019) provide a language for people to use to describe the long term and ongoing impacts of colonization and oppression of First peoples, perpetrated by white people. While these terms could be applied to the Deaf context, there is relatively limited recognition of the historical (and ongoing) trauma perpetrated by hearing people against Deaf peoples. One such example was sexual abuse of young deaf students at the Provincial School for the Deaf in British Columbia, Canada (Office of the Ombudsman of British Columbia 1993). Though allegations were first reported in 1987, the reports were largely ignored. It was not until additional allegations were reported in 1991, that action was formally taken. The class action lawsuit investigation ended in 1993 and resulted in a $12.5 million settlement for the survivors (Gidney 2004).

The literature supports the claim that First peoples around the world experience health inequities as a result of historical factors including colonization (Axelsson et al. 2016). This includes higher suicide rates, higher infant, child and mother mortality rates, and greater disease burden (Jaworsky 2018). Population data, as collected and applied within non-indigenous systems, as we discussed above, is often used as evidence to demonstrate health inequities and has been effective in creating opportunities to establish services dedicated to the health and well-being of First Peoples (e.g. the 2008 Close the Gap Statement of Intent). However, this is not to say that these opportunities have been effective at reducing the perpetration and consequences of colonization. The Lowitja Institute’s “Close the Gap” (2020) report discusses how governments have failed to implement strategies to appropriately fund policy and undertake systemic reform, and highlights how focusing statistical deficits and relying on measurements of “success” within the parameters of existing (Western) ways of knowing have contributed to the failure to close the gap. Similarly, in Canada, where the federal government of Canada is responsible for the health needs of Indigenous people in Canada, Indigenous people as a population continue to experience poorer health, and receive health promotion, health prevention, and public health services at a level that is inferior to that available to other Canadians (Statistics Canada 2020).

To date, Deaf communities have not received any formal acknowledgment (or apology) for how hearing people, institutions, governments or policies have perpetrated the colonization of Deaf people, Deaf culture, and Sign Languages. ⁵ Yet, there is considerable evidence regarding the mental and physical well-being of Deaf peoples that suggests these communities are likewise experiencing the consequences of colonization and that terms such as “transgenerational trauma” and the like may be applicable.

Similar to First peoples, research demonstrates that Deaf peoples experience health inequities such as higher rates of poor mental health (Barnett et al. 2011; Nolan et al. 2015), higher suicide rates (Embree 2012), and lack of health knowledge (Kuenburg, Fellinger, and Fellinger 2015). However, there is little to no discussion about how these health inequities are related to historical and ongoing experiences of hearing societies colonizing Deaf peoples.

Societies dominated by hearing-based ideologies and the colonization of Deaf peoples within the health system (point of diagnosis and early intervention) and education system have contributed to what is known as the “fund of information deficit” for many Deaf people (Pollard 1998). This has implications for employment opportunities, knowledge about appropriate social behavior (in hearing or Deaf culture) and being vulnerable to being taken advantage of. Pedagogies within the education system, and the dominance of oralist early intervention practices with young people with deaf experiences, have not only impacted language development but have impacted their self-awareness, self-esteem, and identity, as well as emotional development (Brown and Cornes 2015; Fellinger et al. 2008). Hall (2017) argued it is the language deprivation that is a consequence of colonization that endangers the health and well-being of Deaf peoples. For example, the Queensland Department of Education indicates that 40 percent of deaf students will have experienced mental health issues compared to just 25 percent of hearing students (Metro South Addiction and Mental Health Services 2016). Ongoing lack of access to effective two-way communication, inadequate access to (mental) health promotion and prevention information, misdiagnosis due to the application of inappropriate diagnostic tools and inadequate communication with hearing professionals (Bone 2018), and a mental health delivery system that is “culturally insensitive and inadequately prepared to serve this population” (Kim and Horton 2011:2), contribute to mental health problems experienced by Deaf peoples. As with First Nation peoples “language is an indicator of cultural well-being and carries much of a people’s culture” (McBreen 2019:177) so language is crucial to resisting the impacts of settler colonialism that are equally prevalent in both deaf and First Nations communities.

We have illustrated here the similarities (and differences) between First Peoples and Deaf peoples in relation to how colonization has (dis)similarly been perpetrated, yet terms such as intergenerational trauma etc. are not applied to the latter population. The connection between the colonization of Deaf peoples and their mental and physical well-being is not formally or widely acknowledged by white hearing people or within society.

Discussion

The impact of colonization on community and family structures and functioning as well as well-being reverberates through the cultures and generations (Evans-Campbell 2008). This is legitimized through terminology such as historical, intergenerational and transgenerational trauma. These terms provide recognition that goes beyond responses to a traumatic event and extend to recognizing the transmission of trauma between generations and the long term implications of multiple, catastrophic historical events at multiple levels (individual, familial and communal (Evans-Campbell 2008). The uptake of these terms within dominant society (assuming they reflect the experiences of subjugated populations) serve to not only legitimize their experiences within non-indigenous and hearing society but contextualize current problematic behaviors. Both First Peoples and Deaf communities have demonstrated and continue to demonstrate remarkable resilience in the face of colonization (Evans-Campbell 2008).

Resilience

Through the strength and resilience of First Peoples and Deaf peoples, they have achieved significant triumphs that have pushed back against colonizing and oppressive systems in white and hearing dominated society. For example, Australia’s Language and Literacy Policy recognized the Deaf Community as a language group (Dawkins 1991), Native Title Act 1993 [Australia]; United Nations declaration on the rights of Indigenous peoples 2009 [Australia]; National Aborigines and Islanders Day Observance Committee week. The United Nations Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities (2008) formally recognized Sign Languages, and confirmed them as having equal status to spoken and written languages in the signatory countries (Canadian Association of the Deaf 2015b). Canada ratified the Convention in 2010, Australia in 2008.

One exemplar of resilience, that parallels both Indigenous and Deaf peoples, is the fight to preserve and revitalize their languages which is a part of the process to (re)claim their respective identities in Australia and Canada. When Indigenous and Sign Languages were banned in colonized spaces (e.g. not permitted to use their languages at school), they resisted by taking their languages “underground.” For instance, Indigenous children would communicate in their language when alone, and Deaf children would clandestinely sign in dorms and in play areas when school staff were not paying attention. Current community-based practices of preserving and revitalizing Indigenous Sign Languages have been implemented in various ways with Yolnu Sign Language of Arnhem Land of Northern Australia and Plain Indian Sign Language of North America experiencing a revival of interest from both deaf and non-deaf Indigenous peoples alike (Adams and Crowe 2020).

Indigenous Peoples are reclaiming their languages, ceremonies, art, and culture. In Canada this includes through funded projects to record/archive languages, and reclaim traditional forms of art, and culture (Kirmayer et al. 2011). Deaf communities continue to fight in Australia to have Auslan recognized as a formal language of Australia, ⁶ and to have Auslan taught as a Language Other Than English subject in mainstream schools (Australian Curriculum, Assessment and Reporting Authority 2016). McCarty et al. (2018) propose that “…(Indigenous) languages are not replaced but rather displaced through policies designed to eradicate linguistically encoded knowledges and cultural identifications with those associated with dominant-class ideologies” (p. 160), and we here view that this also applies to Sign Languages. We extend McCarty et al.’s viewpoint on language reclamation by including Deaf people: “language reclamation is of larger Indigenous and Deaf ⁷ projects of resilience, rediscovery, sovereignty, and justice” (p. 161). ⁸

Resilience is a protective factor (Johnson et al. 2018). People who are experiencing perceived or real discrimination and who are disadvantaged are able to draw on resilience to participate in society as it is. People can build, maintain, and restore their resilience in various ways, and one of them is to connect with their own peoples who share similar experiences, languages, and cultural beliefs and values (Johnson et al. 2018). And this perhaps is a key point of difference between First Peoples and Deaf peoples’ experiences of colonization. Indigenous people experience and celebrate a deep spiritual connection to the land. There are physical spaces that are marked as sacred and (in theory) are protected and preserved. In these physical locations, Indigenous peoples can come together and connect, share their culture, their grief, and their collective history, languages, and (re)gain strength. Kirmayer et al. (2011) also identify resilience experienced through shared language, stories, and collective agency. For Deaf peoples, there is no geographical, physical space that is “Deaf Land.” The closure of “Deaf spaces” like residential schools and Deaf clubs has resulted in Deaf people losing spaces where they can connect and strengthen their social capital and language as well as pass on their culture to other Deaf peoples of diverse backgrounds and experiences (Friedner and Kusters 2015). Those spaces are crucial for Deaf peoples to express their lived experiences as Deaf people, share their grief and (re)gain their strength to survive in colonized spaces. Sangalang (2010) spoke of Deaf spaces offering privacy not found in non-Deaf spaces. Given increased fragility in their social systems, Deaf cultures might not be as high-context as traditionally described in older literature (Batterbury et al. 2007); however, they have been reshaped in terms of linguistic vitality, changes in genetic pool, and social capital (Johnston 2004; Wilkinson and Morford 2020). Modern (video) technology has meant that Deaf people connect online, but, at least anecdotally, this does not seem to be an effective replacement of shared physical spaces and connection. Consequently, Deaf peoples are often faced with low social capital with limited access to (signed) languages, and decreased access to information, which may influence their already low health literacy, and thus result in increased health disparities. In Bone’s 2018 study, Deaf participants shared examples of Deaf resilience by “doing it my way”: adult Deaf people mentoring younger Deaf members in the community; sitting on Boards of Directors for Deaf organizations; and participating in the annual ASL Immersion program offered to both expose new family members to ASL, and enhance the ASL skills of others. A current example of Deaf resilience is the advocacy seen by Deaf community members lobbying for live interpreters on screen during the COVID-19 pandemic to ensure equal access to information. Lack of access to critical health information can have devastating effects, with the Canadian Association of the Deaf creating a specific COVID-19 page on their website (Canadian Association of the Deaf 2020). Terms such as “intergenerational trauma” serve as a way of legitimizing and giving language to the impact of colonization enacted through the loss Deaf spaces, mainstream schooling and reduced opportunities for language and culture to be passed onto future generations of Deaf people.

Resilience, we argue, can also be problematic. Non-indigenous and non-Deaf people may see the resilience of these communities, and use this as an excuse to avoid reflecting on their privilege and continue to perpetrate colonization. As the ongoing colonization of First Peoples and Deaf peoples continues to require these communities to be resilient, we need to consider how much privileged groups rely on the resilience of oppressed communities.

Intersectionality/Indigenous Deaf People

Intersectionality, although largely an unexplored area of colonization, could hold useful insights and directions toward healing the harm resulting from colonization. Indigenous Deaf peoples are often invisible within our society (i.e. in health services, mental health services, education, and civics). They are also often invisible within the research literature, including in Deaf research and First Peoples research. Except for research into Indigenous Sign Language varieties (Davis 2010; Kendon 1988; Sebeok and Umiker-Sebeok 1978), there is a dearth of information about Indigenous Deaf peoples beyond population statistics and medical reports. With high rates of deafness within Indigenous communities in both Australia and Canada, only anecdotal evidence exists of the impacts of colonization on both their identity as an Indigenous person and a Deaf person, and how terms such as “intergenerational trauma” and “racial audism” capture their experiences.

More than this, to our knowledge, there is limited research investigating how Indigenous Deaf peoples are colonized by non-deaf Indigenous people and equally, how non-Indigenous Deaf people colonize Indigenous Deaf peoples. McKay-Cody (2019) suggests that the “gravity of oppression” is operational by multiple layers of prejudice where hearing people oppress Deaf peoples and Indigenous peoples, who in turn internalize these prejudicial attitudes toward Indigenous Deaf people (for either being Indigenous or being deaf), resulting in complex layers of discrimination. Recognizing the ways Indigenous Deaf peoples experience colonization and exploring how both communities recognize the ways in which Indigenous Deaf peoples experience colonization as both a Deaf person and an Indigenous person, could identify solution-based strategies that dismantle barriers in the white hearing system.

Such strategies include the revitalization of Indigenous Sign Languages that has coincided with the United Nations recognition of Sign Languages as an international day of celebration on 23 September. Greater awareness of the existence and legitimacy of Sign Languages has generated an interest on Indigenous Sign Languages with evidence of the Plain Indian Sign Language recognizable in rock art dating back 1,500 years (McKay-Cody 2019).

Building Trust

Building trust is the key to acknowledging the past, and building future relationships to safeguard communities’ health and well-being. Mistrust has been high in Indigenous and Deaf communities due to the failure of the medical, educational, and civics systems to safeguard their human rights in all aspects of their lives. These two communities have been systematically exploited over time in various ways, with mistrust germinating within Indigenous and Deaf communities of “others,” those who are non-indigenous, hearing people. Mistrust affects well-being and health, and can create a vicious cycle of entrapment. If all, including (privileged) non-indigenous hearing people take accountability for their past mistakes and move forward with a genuine commitment to expanding their ways of knowing and being, and trusting Indigenous peoples and Deaf peoples, then change can be supported in their communities’ health and well-being. In practice, we see this as non-indigenous people adopting a solution focused approach to change rather than resisting change and keeping things as “they’ve always been done.” This must occur on an individual, community and societal level with non-indigenous and hearing people reflecting on their past actions and values that encompass economy and ownership. Non-indigenous and hearing people must then educate themselves on how to listen and act in ways that prioritize the values of belonging to the land and belonging to a community connected through a shared language and way of being, rather than the current practice of the privileged “owning” it.

Trust is a vulnerable and volatile situation as Indigenous and Deaf communities are intimately aware of. Mistrust in Indigenous communities is arguably better documented (e.g. Indigenous Health Working Group 2016; Queensland Health 2015) when compared to experiences of members of Deaf communities. We observe that the principle of forced trust that results from a hearing-based health system, appears to be accepted as the norm among Deaf peoples. These experiences of “forced trust” are not new, though the full impact of forced trust on Deaf peoples’ health, well-being, education, and human rights has yet to be explored. Deaf peoples must navigate through the medical and legal system knowing that they are at high risk of being harmed by the system, leading to a new inquiry of questions-- how does this impact their ability to trust systems that privilege spoken communication? Health systems, for example, whether in Canada, Australia, or around the world, generally privilege spoken communication. This is yet another example, in a long documented and lived history, of hearing people taking advantage of their realities for their own favor. Concepts such as “intergenerational trauma” may serve to contextualize and legitimize Deaf peoples’ responses to these circumstances as well as identify opportunities for system changes to colonizing systems. Seeking solution-based strategies to address mistrust among Deaf peoples will require transforming beliefs and values entrenched in the hearing-based (white) system.

Learning from Past Mistakes

Indigenous and Deaf peoples are accustomed to the practice of accommodating non-Indigenous and non-deaf people, with minimal accommodations offered in return. A growing body of work on intergenerational trauma in Indigenous and Deaf communities has propelled better awareness about systematic challenges these communities face (Atkinson 2002; Gone 2013; Herman 1992; Kellermann 2001; Kirmayer et al. 2014; Menzies 2019). However, Deaf peoples are generally an unknown and invisible community to the majority, with Indigenous Deaf peoples even more so. Unlike some marginalized communities, members of Deaf communities are often not visible to “others” until they start communicating with others, which adds a level of complexity to understanding. The historical traumas Deaf peoples experienced, and continue to experience are rarely acknowledged. As they remain unacknowledged, and therefore unaddressed, trauma continues to be inflicted upon Deaf individuals, Deaf communities and Deaf cultures. Ignorance among non-Indigenous hearing people of the colonization of Indigenous and Deaf peoples is simply unacceptable.

Acknowledging and learning from past mistakes is an important part of identifying and enacting solutions that will equalize, safeguard and promote every person’s health, well-being, and human rights. This includes formal government and societal acknowledgment of the colonization of Deaf peoples and the associated traumas (Gidney 2004). This formal acknowledgment is needed to strengthen Deaf peoples’ calls for Governments to provide structured, culturally and linguistically appropriate services and supports for Deaf peoples. It is also to give language and legitimization to Deaf peoples’ experiences of colonization through recognized terms such as “intergenerational trauma” and “transgenerational trauma.” As is evident through First peoples’ ongoing experiences of colonization, the provision of funding and services is not without its problems (colonizing practices still occur within this). However, this is a step toward addressing ignorance, creating allyship and understanding through proactive involvement. It is also a step towards developing positive relations and recognition within the communities, and new opportunities to decolonize our health and education systems (Montreal Urban Aboriginal Community Strategy Network 2019)

Conclusion

The uptake of terminology such as “intergenerational trauma,” serves to not only acknowledge but also legitimize First Peoples’ experiences of colonization, oppression and discrimination. Through acknowledging and legitimizing historical and ongoing harm, society is able to discuss and enact ways of changing oppressive systems and values. We have demonstrated that Deaf communities have likewise experienced, and continue to experience, colonization, discrimination and oppression. Yet, the harm being done to Deaf communities, and Indigenous Deaf Peoples (as well as other intersecting minoritized identities) remains largely unacknowledged within broader society. This ignorance serves as a barrier to changing medical, educational, legal and civic systems. There remains a daunting amount of work ahead of us. We must peel back the many layers of colonial systems that harm members of First Peoples and Deaf communities. As humans of society, we must strive to understand experiences different from our own, acknowledge the error of our ways and listen to alternative views. We must also engage in robust discussions about how to proceed systematically to remove barriers in a collaborative partnership to achieve truth, equity and respect.