The Old Club: An Oasis Clubs for the deaf were formed before the 1890's when deaf people found a need to get together in an atmosphere of normalcy that they missed in school. In schools they chatted, learned, and taught in sign language; confidences were exchanged freely, and very little happened that did not get translated into signs. The early members built their own clubs as homes away from home: at first in warehouse buildings, in step-down basements or abandoned storefronts. Deaf men brought materials left over or donated by their employers, cadged lumber from scrapyards, and surplus furniture from their homes. Walls were knocked down, extra lighting installed, and bars built by expert deaf tradesmen who joshed with one another as they worked in sign. Women cooked and sold food for the socials. Restaurants nearby sometimes donated food in gratitude for the added business the members brought them after the club closed for the evenings. The club as Service Provider Deaf people yearned for the company just to bat the breeze in sign language. Some formed sports teams and met for beer afterwards. The early clubs were mostly mens' clubs with auxiliary socials where ladies gathered to play cards and hold crafting bees. During wartime, the more literate Deaf printers, Deaf teachers and CODAs attracted crowds in news-telling sessions that often ended in lively debate over political issues. Where else could one obtain signed news, especially if one was a former product of oral schooling and did not learn to read as well as some other Deaf people? Members came to the clubs bringing letters or forms to be translated into sign and to have responses written. Monthly suppers and parties were the highlights and people frequently drove in from miles away to reunite with their fellows. With the advent of the Federally supported Captioned Films for the Deaf, the clubs grew stronger since the CFD mandate required films be loaned to groups and that they be shown free of charge. Entertainment-hungry Deaf flocked to the clubs every Friday and Saturday night to watch B&W and later, color films. Food and soft drinks were sold at these times, adding to the coffers, and after the films, beer or wine sales and chatting closed a relaxing evening. Bank nights were also popular with cash prizes given for euchre, bingo, drawings and members-only lotteries. Occasionally there would be decorated holiday parties mixing all ages of Deaf people. Where else could one go when nothing on TV was captioned, let alone the movie theaters? Other Alternatives Became Available Then came the Telecaption for TV programs, the Betamax and videocassette captioned movies that replaced uncaptioned TV. Suddenly club movies were not the draw they used to be; as most members preferred to stay at home rather than sit in rows of metal folding chairs. Captioned films then allowed smaller groups to apply for borrowing privileges even if only a couple or a single family; and more Deaf people invited their friends to cozy home viewings rather than meet at the club. When I had a CFD film account, one film was A Man for all Seasons about Sir Thomas More and King Henry VIII. As a long Elizabethean drama it was mildly interesting, but when the 35mm projector malfunctioned so it could only run in SILENT mode, it turned deadly boring. The actors moved slowly, the captions appeared longer, and all guests fell asleep on the carpet before time to change reels. Imagine this scenario: 25 or 30 Deaf professionals and their spouses snoring amidst a dozen large bowls of popcorn. The projectionist also zonked out while film unwound all over the floor, the empty reel spinning for several minutes before someone finally roused to see nothing playing on the wall.
Closed captions soon appeared on every TV channel so Deaf people actually could surf every evening and rent videos every weekend. The club movie nights became less popular, but bank and card nights remained busy until the younger set began to fall away. Many attended mainstream schools in their home towns where they grew up knowing few Deaf people. Others became hooked on video games and computers so became used to solitary pursuits. In time, the younger generations after them picked up Internet communications and pager texting; and kept social contact through Facebook and Myspace. Sports competitions lost in favor of couch-potato pursuits. Volunteerism and contributory teamwork began dying out as people sought payment for all their work. Decline of the Club Club after club began closing. Deaf people were less inclined to drive downtown to these clubs, and the older generations who looked forward for weeks to the monthly gatherings soon stopped driving long distances for their social fixes. Sports teams, an excuse to get together, became less of a draw. The clubs needed fundraisers, membership fees, and volunteers, and without them began to lose money. As a result, the surviving clubs today are those who are debt-free and own their building outright. A lesser income generated by the over-40 members and small monthly fundraisers was enough to keep these clubs maintained into the near future. However, one must think for the long term: how important are our clubs to us now? Should we mount a campaign to keep them open, or move on to the next step in our Deaf community? The future of the Club: as a Plugged-In Media Hub Some suggestions how we could save our clubs of the deaf: move into the future. We could set up giant screens in our meeting rooms and uplink to other clubs for the deaf merging East and West Coasts and internationally. We could allow for private sessions between friends/families, or combine meetings of associations collaborating with one another. We could have cybercafés instead of dance rooms. We could enable members to download selected movies, captioned tutorial sessions, recorded lectures, online videos and other media and make these sessions available to Deaf people. We could connect with online interpreters to make media accessible if uncaptioned. We could connect to remote conventions and forums elsewhere through uplinks. The upcoming NAD convention that will cost most attenders in the neighborhood of $1,500 could be available at the club for the lesser cost of video transmitting services. We could have our own TV network, connecting to live Deaf reporters on the scene of Gallaudet events, ADA rallies, DBC demonstrations, and events at major news sites. At times of disasters such as 9-11, events such as the Obama election and triumphs such as the Gallaudet selection of Hurwitz, the clubs could be open, the uplinks connected and the large screens showing nearly-personal involvement. All of this could possibly be funded in part by Federal education grants. The Club as a Health or Specialized Group Center We could revive sports competitions. Instead of competing with other clubs for the deaf, we could challenge hearing teams from major industries to make a reputation for Deaf people locally to leave a positive impression on employers. Or these sports teams could bring together young Deaf adults from many backgrounds to form an embryonic association that later matures to club membership. These sports could be of the type requiring regular practice and teammaking efforts, or just for tossing the ball. Exercise rooms either in the clubhouse or elsewhere could be available for all-Deaf scheduled sessions with a signing trainer. Charity projects could be set up benefiting the local school for the deaf or overseas deaf missions. Mixers aimed at specific groups could be scheduled, such as young adults. young professionals, middle-aged, single parents, Golden Agers and leadership trainers or interpreting students. The Club as a Business Center The club could serve as an incubator business place, a central place for accessing interpreters/facilitators/letter writers; a community gathering place; offering small business and contact/referral services. Deaf professionals could rent offices or office time serving other deaf groups, devices for deaf homes could be sold, repair services for computers, videophones and devices could be there, themed T-shirts and gear could be marketed, and photographers hold studio sessions for schools and teams. Connections to business startups could be through a nearby co-operative market. A lot can be learned from local ethnic marketplaces and Black enterprises especially about business grants. Adapt or Perish The club for the deaf once served a vital need: for deaf people to find a place where they could be normal and where they could access information denied elsewhere. Today the club must adapt to serve different needs. We need to find what these needs are in order for the clubs to survive and what resources are available to make it happen. Not to do this leaves one final option: liquidate the club and use the proceeds to start a home for the local Deaf elderly. It ironically is fitting, as they were the ones who built it in the first place. | 
