It’s day three in Prague, and I’m having a blast! Because the pageant ladies are so busy trying on clothes, practicing their walk, applying and re-applying makeup, I don’t have much time to get to know them, except at night. Naturally, this frees me to befriend many of the chaperones, and I, admittedly, have two favorites: Costel (Romania) and Clément (France). The self-professed “gay BFFs” of Ramona (Miss Deaf Romania) and July (Miss Deaf France – pronounced “Joo-lee”) are a riot and half. While I believe us to be the most active chaperones, we are also the most talkative ones – which sometimes is not a good thing! The three of us are startlingly alike in personality: audacious and spirited, we spent all of Saturday morning (in-between taking care of our own respective countries, of course) storytelling in International Sign Language and laughing perhaps a few decibels louder than considered appropriate.

Now, Costel and I hit off when we met at the airport; there was just something about Costel, and how he lead our party of four (Michelle, Ramona, Costel and I) in making the two hours of wait at the airport for the rest of the pageant girls, disappear. In fact, in one e-mail I wrote, I mentioned I wanted to “…spread sweet butter all over Costel, put him between warm sourdough bread, and just eat him up!”.  He also makes for a perfect partner in crime to paint the town red, but he has such a soft side to him that I’m convinced he’d be just as happy to tuck in one of the hotel rooms and share a bottle of wine with me, gossiping about boys.

Clément, however, had an unfair disadvantage from the beginning: after my trip to France in 2006, I didn’t have the best impression of French people; I found them to be incredibly rude and pompous. So, when July and Clément showed up in the lobby of the hotel on Friday night, I expected the typical blasé attitudes that I encountered in France.

Was I ever wrong. As soon as Costel introduced me to Clément yesterday morning, Clément warmly clasped my hand in his and gave me airy kisses on my cheeks – and it wasn’t long before I was clutching my sides in laughter, not so much laughing at what Clément was saying, but how he was saying it. He is a natural at expressing himself, and utilizes gestures, ASL, ISL, and a bit of LSF to make his stories lively and entertaining as they are three-dimensional. I love it, and could watch him all day.

After a full day of walking, and setting up the girls in their places for the pageant, we all ate dinner together in the hotel restaurant. That was a ball; Michelle and I sat next to Miss Deaf Italy and her mother/chaperone, and learned she was in Taipei for the Deaflympics as a female Italian volleyball player. Miss Deaf Italy is gorgeous: standing nearly six feet tall, she has a head of full, black curls, and the ideal Italian body: soft and feminine in all the right places, athletic and toned where necessary. Clément, who also sat at our table, officially introduced me to a very blonde July, who lives moments outside of Paris, and is a skilled Equestrian horseback rider who teaches young children the art of horseback riding. And yes, I am biased when I say I sat at the “fun table” last night!

After dinner, we went into the pageant’s “main room” (a banquet room within the hotel), and each country was given the opportunity to host a game as an icebreaker. The first one was tough and only mildly entertaining: go around in a circle, and remember everyone’s name sign. This may be simpler in the States, but when you have 50+ girls and chaperones with incredibly unique names/name signs, it doesn’t stick as well as you’d like! After that was done, we played a game I LOVED (and definitely bringing back to the States). Because no one gave it a name last night, I’m going to call it the Team Treasure Hunt.

Costel and Miss Deaf Italy teamed up to explain the rules, and play host. Costel took me by the wrist, and grabbed another chaperone, assigning us the team leaders, and instructing us to take turns picking girls (and two of the four men) for our team.

Once I picked the winning team (well, naturally!), Costel explained the rules: the team leader stays on one side of a line, and the team on another. For either one of us to cross the line would award the other team a point. What would happen is Costel will say he wants, for example, five rings. The team, amongst themselves, would need to come up with five rings, and without crossing to my side of the line, hand me the rings; I would need to run approximately eight yards and place the items at Costel’s feet. If I did not give the correct items, or the right number of items, the other team gets a point.

The items (in no particular order) were:

• Three shoelaces (we lost this; one of the girls had high heels with laces and it took forever and a DAY to get them out!)
• Six belts (lost this one)
• Four hair clips (I was originally handed three hair clips and a bobby pin; my competitive side took over and I actually threw the bobby pin to the ground and shouted that I needed another CLIP. Luckily, the other team put in a hair band for their “fourth” clip, and we won this!)
• Five hair bands (we won this!)
• Ten bracelets (we won this; thank you, Clément, all you had to do was take off ALL your bracelets and we had everything we needed!)
• Every team member’s shoes (this was a hard one, with LOTS of running back and forth!; we won this only because the other team crossed the line!)
• Six bras (I knew this was coming, and cautioned my team to be ready. Kudos to Miss Deaf Romania for whipping her bra off in what seemed like milliseconds; you’re a champion, honey!)
• Two of the men’s underpants (they ran into the bathroom to do this, thankfully!)

This was a GREAT way to break the ice, and enabled the girls to truly feel comfortable for the next “game”: all of us were to walk, dancing in a big circle, and go around and around. Then, the “host” would shout out a number, and this is the number of girls that need to cluster in to hug. So, for example, if the host signed “TEN!”, ten girls would need to come together and “hug”; you would be eliminated from the game if you weren’t part of the appropriately-numbered hug. This proved to be twenty kinds of hilarious; you really got a sense of who was competitive! One of the pageant girls actually clung onto a group with one number too many, refusing to let go when attempting to pry her off!

After all the games and laughs, we all spilled into the lobby to hang out, chat, and have a smoke (or ten). Sidenote: I have never smoked a cigarette in my life, but I’m pretty sure I’ve inhaled twenty packs of secondhand cigarette smoke the last few days. I consistently need eyedrops, and to shower every day. Thank goodness I grabbed my miniature version of Frebreeze…

And lastly, to wrap up last night, the chaperones hung out in Slovakia’s room after the games, and had a few glasses of vino. Because a majority of the chaperones in the room were part of the European Union (and only two from Asia), one of the more outspoken chaperones, slightly tipsy, started to make America the butt of his jokes. He mocked that the Statue of Liberty needed deodorant; I countered that Lady Liberty was a gift from France (who was in the room!), and that perhaps they could have given us some alongside their generous present. There were also more jokes that really have no place on my website, but I could tell – and get the impression – that they did not consider me to be the typical, domineering American, trying to put my beliefs, my language, or anything else on them. I appreciated that, and I think they did, too.

Dinner beckons, and I must wake up Miss Deaf USA from a nap. Stay tuned for tomorrow’s update!

It’s Day Two of the Miss Deaf World pageant, and have we ever been busy!

We left Dulles on Thursday at three in the afternoon, landed in Frankfurt around 7:00am Friday morning, and roared onto the ground in Prague two hours later; to say that Michelle and I have been running around would be putting it mildly! Yesterday was an informal meet-and-greet with the other pageant ladies, as well as dinner – this wasn’t to mention all the ironing we had to do, routine to practice, primping to be done, and sleep to catch up on!

But, we really can’t imagine being anywhere else this week! When looking back on my Deaflympics experience – and now partaking in Miss Deaf World 2011 as a chaperone – I’m again reminded of my favorite aspect of meeting Deaf people from all over: how easy it is to get to know them – and connect. It doesn’t matter where you’re from – be it France, Romania, or the United States – we face many of the same struggles, such as oppression and rejection, but we also share the same joys, too, especially the bonding with Deaf people from all walks of life through Deaf culture. I may not know LSF, or another signed language, but a week in Salt Lake City taught me that no matter the country, all of the signed languages share the same, crucial fundamental: every sign (or, series of signs) is based on the concept one is trying to convey. To figure out what another is signing is more possible than not; many are similar in nature. One example: when soliciting the sign for “female”, many countries have their signs on the cheek. Much of the guesswork is taken out of the equation, and before you know it, we’re deciphering signs with an impressive dexterity that is not usually found between persons from such diverse backgrounds. Knowing International Sign Language is a huge perk, too; I’m so glad I practiced some before coming to Prague!

On the subject of diversity: a majority of the following countries below are participating at Miss Deaf World this year! Only 37 of the listed were able to make it to Prague; the rest ran into flight, or personal, conflicts:

South Africa • Montenegro • Poland • Russia • Bulgaria • Switzerland • Italy • Cyprus • Brasil • Zimbabwe • Hungary • Germany • India • Guinea • Mongolia • Barbados • Nigeria • South Korea • Indonesia • Paraguay • Armenia • Georgia • Romania • Israel • Moldavia • Latvia • Ghana • Slovakia • Croatia • Uganda • Congo • Slovenia • Czech Republic • Estonia • Vietnam • Ukraine • France • Denmark • Gambia • Madagascar • Belarus • Kazakhstan • Lithuania

The ladies have yet to get our sashes, and everyone has yet to arrive, so Michelle and I are still learning everyone’s name, name sign, and country!

Today, they got their clothes for the week, practiced their pageant dance routine, and their “walks” (Michelle has a fierce one, just in case anyone’s wondering!). I’m also having a ton of fun chaperoning: cheerleading when I know she needs it, offering helpful suggestions for addition or omission for her talent routine, making sure her makeup and hair are always in place, and overall, just spending time with her!

More to come tomorrow – stay tuned!

I’ve found a muse.

I feel as if I have something to write for again. This is not to say that writing for myself is not enough, but it is tough to write when you are not inspired.

But no more. At 1:30am last night, I wrote the first poem I’ve written in a long, long time.

Thank you.

________________________________

I think of you in colors that don’t exist.

…I think of you in crimson reds, in flames found deep within unparalleled and prolonged desire; with rushing blood towards lips to flush, and hearts to thunder.
…I think of you in blues, in the openness of a clear, vast sky; at once unyielding and embracing.

and I think of you in soft yellows; in warm laughter and honey touches;
and some more in lush greens, tucked away in the warm, damp fields of fertile and forever.

I think of you in violet, in dusky, velvet glances;
…I think of you in a raven onyx, with the soft brush of eyelashes, and senses heightened at lights out.

and finally,
I think of you in brilliant, aching oranges; in furious, coruscating fireworks,….and in quiet, shuddering gasps.

My mother always said I could say whatever I wanted. But, as it usually goes, there was a catch: I had to say it nicely.

So today, when I received a follow-up e-mail with the disappointing news that the Harvard Business Review does not transcribe their podcasts (after calling and inquiring for the transcript of a particular podcast), my first reaction was anger.

The first draft of my e-mail included plenty of choice words. I also questioned their integrity for accessible media, even going as far as throwing in, for good measure, the 21st Century Communications and Video Accessibility Act of 2010 (which, I discovered later, does not include podcasts. D’oh.)

And upon calling in a co-worker (and fellow Professional and Technical Communications graduate) for his opinion, he implored me to slam the brakes, echoing what Mother said (and knew best): Say what you want to say, nicely — and offer solutions, instead of bemoaning their lack of accessibility and making haughty demands. Another suggestion, if I may?, he inquired, eyeing my scathing e-mail. Offer names of other organizations or companies that are already offering transcripts for their podcasts — that’ll strengthen your request.

He was absolutely, unequivocally right. My original tone, while perhaps justified, was unnecessary — not to mention counterproductive.

And thus emerges a significant lesson in writing: Remember your tone. It goes way past doing “what Mama always said”; in this particular situation, it’s about reinforcing that the pen (or in this case, the keyboard) is mighter than the sword. Okay, I’m angry. I want my transcript. That much is clear. But how can I make the higher-ups of one of the most acclaimed magazines in the nation  really understand — and move them to take action? That’s my goal — and it wasn’t easy.

But, I researched, and revised my e-mail. And revised some more. And yet some more. After getting a few opinions (and enough thumbs-up), I clicked “Send”.

The follow-up e-mail from Tech Support:

From: Harvard Business School Publishing Tech Support [mailto:techhelp@hbsp.harvard.edu]
Sent: Wednesday, June 01, 2011 11:16 AM
To: Michelle Gerson
Subject: Harvard Business Publishing (#8095-234114147-4421)

Hello Michelle,

Unfortunately we do not currently have podcast transcripts for podcasts. It something that the HBR Group is looking into further and might be offered in the future but there is nothing in place at this time.

Regards,

Michael Sarchioni
HARVARD BUSINESS PUBLISHING
300 North Beacon Street | 4E | Watertown, MA 02472
Ph: (800) 810-8858 or (617) 783-7700

And, my reply:

From: ‘Michelle Gerson’
Sent: Wednesday, June 01, 2011 1:39 PM
To: ‘Harvard Business School Publishing Tech Support’
Subject: RE: Harvard Business Publishing (#8095-234114147-4421)

Hi, Michael:

I very much appreciate your e-mail – and I sincerely hope offering transcripts for podcasts is a feature the Harvard Business Review considers in the immediate future.

The Harvard Business Review’s goal (as stated in the “About” section of the website) is to “influence real-world change by maximizing the reach and impact of its essential offering – ideas.” In spirit of sharing ideas, there are many benefits to transcribing podcasts that are not limited to providing access to deaf people (such as myself) – those without speakers on their computer, those who cannot play anything at volume at present moment (think while at work!), utilizing search engine optimization by allowing text searches (much like Hulu’s new feature that allows “text searches that’ll scour the captions that many shows incorporate”). The media organization NPR, which traditionally offered media via radio, now provides transcripts for most shows, stories, and episodes – even offering free transcripts to those with hearing loss for content that is not already transcribed.

I am a young twentysomething still working on finding my footing in the dog-eat-dog “corporate world”, and the Harvard Business Review has always provided keen insight and “how-to” on bettering – and advancing! – oneself in the workforce. There are very few magazines that truly take the cake in providing their consumers with savvy and innovative – yet realistic – approaches to achieving excellence within the boardroom and beyond.

I look forward to the continued level of integrity, idealism, and excellence HBR offers.

Warmest,

Michelle Gerson

Well, Mom — I hope I did you proud. I think I was pretty nice, yeah?

Well, it is. And anyone that tells you otherwise? Big, bold-faced lie. This isn’t news, either: the inability to write, having nothing to write, or churning out crap work — it’s mirrored in today’s movies, television shows, books — think Kidman’s portrayal of Woolf in The Hours, Showtime’s Californication, and so on.

So, to alleviate any (and all) anxiety I have, I have books on how to write. I have books that explain the psychology behind writer’s block and how to read like a writer. I even own (and I say this unabashedly) How to Write a Damn Good Novel and Creative Writing for Dummies. Mock all you want, but really — there’s no better way to start out my first blog entry than to make the following assertion: I’m a good writer.

But I don’t want to be a good writer. I want to be a great writer. And I know that takes work and putting myself out there. Hence the “self-help” writing books — and the blog.

So, I’m going to practice, practice, practice. And I’ll be practicing a lot of scary things on this website: writing blog entries on the random thoughts I have, putting my work up for feedback, asking for additions to story ideas, and the biggest whooper of ‘em all: participating in NaNoWriMo, (and chronicling the experience, of course).

So, before closing up shop on my first post, I need to thank a lot of people: friends and family who’ve long known (and believed) in my writing potential, and to Jess and Allison (who have no idea the blogging goddesses I consider them to be). I also need to thank Stephanie from Yellow & Savvy Design (again, and again) who helped me get this whole site up and running — and looking exactly how I wanted it to look. You are the epitome of customer service, Steph, and I really can’t thank you enough for working with me.

So, here I go — and I hope you enjoy the ride as much as I do!