Growing up as a CODA (Child of Deaf Adults) in the 1990s, I saw firsthand how technology could both create and close gaps in communication. My parents relied on TTY machines and relay services to navigate a world designed primarily for hearing people, and I often found myself interpreting between Deaf and hearing communities. At the same time, the common narrative that disabled communities are always waiting for technology to catch up misses an important reality. The Deaf community has often been ahead of the curve when it comes to communication technology. Long before FaceTime and Zoom became household names, Deaf people were using videophones to communicate in sign language. Long before smartphones became ubiquitous, Sidekick phones and text-based devices became cultural staples because text communication offered greater accessibility, efficiency, and independence. Many of the tools that the broader public now relies on were embraced by the Deaf community years earlier out of necessity and innovation.
Today, artificial intelligence has the potential to dramatically expand access through real-time captioning, speech-to-text transcription, translation, and other emerging tools. As someone who grew up bridging Deaf and hearing worlds, I find the possibilities exciting. But AI still has a long way to go. Technology serving disabled and Deaf communities must be culturally informed and built alongside the people it is intended to support.
Accessibility is not a checklist, a feature, or a one-size-fits-all solution. It is holistic, integrated, and deeply human. The best accessibility solutions come from listening to a wide range of lived experiences and recognizing that access looks different for different people. If AI is going to fulfill its promise, success should be measured not only by what it can do, but by who has a seat at the table helping shape it.
