When Good Intentions Go Astray

The image shows a close-up of a person clapping, captured from the shoulders down. They’re wearing a ribbed, long-sleeve, burnt-orange turtleneck. The background is softly blurred, suggesting they’re in a group or audience. The design includes curved maroon and yellow shapes framing the photo, along with the SignAble Vi5ion logo and a “Visit Our Website” text with the URL in the top corner.

Share This Post

How Deaf-Led Work Gets Derailed, And How We Fix It

People often assume that access work just happens. A team shows up, shares ideas, offers lived experience, and suddenly progress appears. But anyone in the Deaf community knows that behind every “simple solution” is a long history of Deaf individuals pushing, advocating, creating, and educating, often unpaid, unseen, and uncredited.

And too often, even when the intentions around us are good, things still go sideways.

The Pattern We Know Too Well

A Deaf individual or team steps forward with a clear vision for improving access.
They pour in hours of planning, designing, testing, educating, coordinating, following cultural protocols, and making sure everything truly works for the community.

People watching from the outside see only the “idea.”
Not the years of experience.
Not the labour.
Not the leadership.

And then something happens, a well-meaning group, system, or individual “adopts” the idea and runs with it. Suddenly:

  • Deaf leadership is pushed to the side.
  • Decisions get made without consultation.
  • The work is tokenized or diluted.
  • The credit shifts away from the Deaf people who built it.
  • And the resulting product or decision ends up missing the whole point.

It’s painful.
It’s familiar.
And it’s exhausting.

These moments aren’t about one situation. They’re about a broader pattern: good intentions that completely miss the impact on the people who started the work.

Why It Hurts

Because for Deaf communities, visibility isn’t decoration, it’s survival.

Every time a Deaf-led project gets overshadowed or appropriated, it reinforces a power imbalance: hearing-led authority, Deaf-led expertise treated as optional. It sends a message that Deaf leadership is valuable only when it’s convenient or photogenic, but not when decisions are being made.

That’s not partnership.
That’s not inclusion.
That’s not access.

We Can Pivot, Here’s the Positive Path Forward

This isn’t a callout. It’s a reset button. If people truly want to build with Deaf communities rather than around them, here’s the blueprint:

1. Re-center Deaf leadership from the start

Not next meeting.
Not “later.”
At the very beginning.

If a project touches Deaf lives, culture, language, or visibility, Deaf people must lead the vision and decision-making.

2. Recognize the labour

Design, consultation, cultural interpretation, accessibility planning, this is skilled work.
Respect it.
Budget for it.
Credit it.

3. Communicate transparently

No surprises. No last-minute changes. No decisions made offline.
Shared goals need shared information.

4. Avoid tokenizing: “Look what we did for you”

Shift it to:
“Look what we built with you, and under your lead.”

5. Build long-term relationships, not one-off gestures

Access isn’t a seasonal project.
It’s a commitment.
Sustainable collaboration means consistency, not just enthusiasm during the exciting parts.

6. Ask the one question that fixes 80% of problems

“How do you want this done?”
And then listen.
Really listen.

Moving Forward With Purpose

Deaf communities aren’t asking for perfection, we’re asking for partnership.
For respect.
For accountability.
For the space to lead our own stories, solutions, and public visibility.

When good intentions go astray, we have two choices: repeat the pattern, or course-correct. The answer determines whether our communities move forward supported, or sidelined.

If we truly want meaningful access and representation, then the path is clear:

Deaf-led work must be valued, supported, and protected, not borrowed or overshadowed.

And when that happens?
Everyone benefits.
Communities grow stronger.
Access expands.
And true inclusion becomes possible, not just promised.

More To Explore

A professional sits at a table and gestures with one finger raised during a conversation. Large white text reads “Being Told Later Is Not the Same as Being Included,” with a yellow underline beneath the title. SignAble Vi5ion Inc. branding appears at the top, with Leah Riddell’s name and the SignAble Vi5ion logo at the bottom.

Being Told Later Is Not the Same as Being Included

This takes the last blog one step further, but it isn’t the same issue. The last one was about participation in the room. This one is about what happens when information is constantly passed to a Deaf person after the moment has already happened. I have heard some version of this many times throughout my life and work. “I’ll tell you later.” Usually, the person means well. A

Read More »

Access to the Room Is Not Access to the Conversation

Sometimes we think accessibility is complete once everyone is in the room. The interpreter is booked. Captions are available. The Deaf employee has been invited to the meeting. Everything looks accessible, so we assume the job is done. But being able to enter the conversation and being able to participate in it are two different things. I’ve been in meetings where an interpreter was right there, but people

Read More »