One of the best parts of my job is watching people become more confident after attending my Deaf awareness and accessibility training. Sometimes they arrive feeling nervous about communicating with a Deaf person, unsure about working with interpreters or afraid of doing something wrong. By the end of the session, they’re asking questions, learning a few signs and realizing that communication doesn’t have to be as complicated as they imagined.
I love seeing that change. It’s one of the reasons I do this work.
But there is something I’ve been thinking about lately. What happens after I leave?
An organization may contact me because they want to improve communication with Deaf employees, customers or community members. Perhaps someone has experienced barriers, a complaint has been raised or management recognizes that their staff need more understanding. They arrange training, invite employees to participate and make time for everyone to learn.
That’s a positive step, and I appreciate organizations that are willing to invest in learning.
However, training alone doesn’t make an organization accessible.
I can explain Deaf culture, demonstrate communication strategies, teach people how to work with interpreters and help staff recognize barriers they may never have considered. I can answer questions and provide practical examples that relate to their workplace. What I cannot do is make sure those lessons are carried into everyday practices once the training is over.
That responsibility belongs to the organization.
Imagine a workplace where employees have completed Deaf awareness training. Everyone now understands why interpreters are important, why people should speak one at a time and why information needs to be accessible. Yet the next staff meeting happens without an interpreter. Important announcements are still made verbally, and the Deaf employee is once again expected to ask someone what was said.
When communication breaks down, the Deaf employee may be told to speak up, remind people about their needs or be more flexible.
But why should the Deaf employee have to keep reminding everyone about something the organization has already learned?
This is where I believe we need to look at the bigger picture.
Sometimes organizations put a great deal of effort into educating their staff but very little into changing the systems that created the barriers in the first place. They may have good intentions and genuinely want to improve, but without follow-through, the same problems continue.
I’ve seen how quickly people can change their understanding during a training session. Someone who was hesitant to communicate with a Deaf person begins to feel comfortable. A manager realizes that an interpreter isn’t there to speak on behalf of the Deaf employee. A staff member recognizes how much information is shared through casual conversations that Deaf colleagues may not have access to.
Those moments matter. Awareness is often where change begins.
But understanding something and taking responsibility for it are two different things.
If staff learn that interpreters should be arranged in advance, someone needs to establish a booking procedure. If meetings are difficult to follow, someone needs to review how those meetings are conducted. If emergency announcements depend entirely on sound, someone needs to make sure visual or other accessible notification systems are in place.
And if an employee raises an accessibility concern, the response shouldn’t always be another conversation about what that employee could do differently.
We also need to recognize that accessibility cannot depend on one enthusiastic staff member who attended training and wants to help. What happens when that person is away, changes positions or leaves the organization? Does accessibility disappear with them?
I often remind people that Deaf individuals have different communication preferences and needs. There is no single solution that works for everyone. That is why organizations need to have conversations with the people they serve and employ, rather than making assumptions about what accessibility should look like.
The Deaf person can share what works for them, but they shouldn’t be expected to design the entire accessibility plan, educate every new employee and repeatedly advocate for the same basic communication access.
That is exhausting, especially when the organization already knows what needs to change.
I don’t expect every organization to get everything right immediately. Learning takes time, and improving accessibility is an ongoing process. I would much rather work with an organization that asks questions, acknowledges its gaps and makes improvements than one that pretends it has everything figured out.
But there needs to be accountability.
When I finish a training session, I hope the conversation continues beyond the room. I hope managers sit down with their teams and discuss what they learned, identify what needs to change and decide who will be responsible for making those changes happen.
Because the success of accessibility training shouldn’t only be measured by how much participants enjoyed the session or how much information they learned.
It should also be measured by what the organization does differently afterward.
I can open the conversation, challenge assumptions and give people the knowledge and confidence to communicate more inclusively. I can help organizations understand why accessibility matters and what practical steps they can take.
But I cannot make those changes for them.
That takes leadership, commitment and a willingness to examine how things have always been done.
So here’s a question I would like organizations to think about:
After your staff complete accessibility training, who is responsible for making sure what they learned becomes part of everyday practice?
If the answer is still the Deaf employee, then we have more work to do.
My job is to help people understand the barriers. Your organization’s responsibility is to make sure those barriers don’t continue after I leave.
