When I was nine months old, my parents were given the grim news that I was 80 per cent blind. The diagnosis was a shock, mostly because there had been no indication my sight wouldn't be perfect.
A smooth pregnancy and a natural, uncomplicated birth seemed at odds with my vision loss.
Twenty-six years on, it is still a mystery. But my mum and dad were even more unprepared for what came next.
At the age of six, it was discovered that I was Deaf.
While it was only mild at the time, it was nonetheless received with sadness and confusion from my parents who then had to navigate the complexities of raising a kid whose two main senses were not fully functional.
As I progressed through school with the assistance of hearing aids, I was blissfully unaware that my deafness would get significantly worse.
My hearing impairment went from mild to moderate to severe, and in 2020 reached profound.
When it started affecting my education during high school, my parents' solution was simple; a cochlear implant.
But I wasn't keen. I am still, today, firmly against it. Because there was another option, one that hadn't crossed my parents' minds. And that was sign language.
Loading...I didn't want or need to be cured. Deafness isn't a debilitating disease that causes death. Furthermore, there was no guarantee an implant would be successful.
They were extremely disappointed that I had chosen Auslan as my means of communication. But looking back, I have never regretted my decision.
I felt like I was in a permanent game of tug of war; the hearing world and the Deaf world, each trying to lure me in.
But at the end of the day, the Deaf community won. It was where I felt respected and included.
An ABC internship seemed an impossible dream
Being blind from such a young age, I didn't know what I was missing.
Unlike with my hearing, there wasn't a 'before and after'. I had learnt to read and write Braille from the age of four, so there wasn't going to be too much of a barrier in communication on that level.
On the contrary, I had grown up being able to have spoken conversations with those around me, so it was quite an adjustment switching to Auslan.
In person, I use either a qualified interpreter, or a communication guide who provides me with tactile sign language where I have my left hand over their right hand to feel the signs.
I also use tactile fingerspelling and visual frame signing which means at close range.
It depends on the person I am with and how well I can understand their signing whether I need to touch or not.
I use a device called a Brailliant, which pairs with my phone and iPad to communicate more broadly. I use it almost every waking hour of my life. I cannot survive without this piece of technology. It is akin to oxygen for me.
After high school, I completed a Bachelor of Arts in Media and Communications and a Masters in Writing, Editing and Publishing but it's been hard to find consistent employment.
An internship at the ABC was something I had written off as unlikely to ever happen so, when I received a text message in late 2022 offering me one, I could not have been more ecstatic.
It seemed too good to be true. My job involved organising and running a live blog on International Day of People with Disability. It was such a privilege to be able to work with the blogging team; I felt very supported and valued.
The role included me recruiting talent with lived experience of disability to feature in the blog. This wasn't too difficult as I have an extensive network of contacts I could call upon.
That led to a subediting role with the News Digital team, reading over published stories on the ABC News app to find errors in style, spelling, etc. and some pre-publication editing.
My Brailliant, is what I use to proof read stories and communicate with the other subeditors and my manager.
Like all tech, it's not always smooth sailing. There are hiccups and hurdles which I must be prepared to encounter and have a plan B.
Braille loves to freeze, no kidding, and if my phone fails, I have my iPad and vice versa. If my Brailliant fails, I have another device called a BrailleNote which has similar features and can be used as a back-up.
Loading...As well as editing, I have also provided guidance to the ABC on how to make content more accessible to blind and Deafblind audiences.
Specifically, the importance of good image descriptions and alt text (alternative text) within stories. Previously, these were somewhat lacking.
I've worked closely with my manager to create a set of guidelines for journalists, editors and subeditors to refer to; things like what is a good versus a bad image description. What sighted people think is sufficient information for a blind person is not even close to the kind of detail we need.
If your sight is perfect you can take for granted the things you see in photos and might believe that some things are not worth mentioning because they seem trivial, but the reader can't connect with a story properly if image descriptions are poor or vague. Detail makes a world of difference.
Unfortunately, this isn't something budding journalists get taught at uni, so I was glad to be able to assist in implementing something more solid.
Loading...Raising awareness of what it's like to have a disability
Through high school, I had almost no friends.
This was predominantly due to other students thinking I was ignoring them and just being rude, when in reality I couldn't hear anymore and so didn't even know when someone was talking to me.
It made me feel lonely, unworthy and like people weren't making an effort to understand my disability. It all came down to one thing: ableism.
It's not a word most people outside the disabled community are familiar with. But ableism is ever present, whether that's in the form of harmful language, attitudes or actions. It is essentially when society does nothing to prevent discrimination against people with disability.
In the same way that people can be subjected to racism, homophobia or xenophobia, they can also be targets for having a disability. And this will never cease to exist unless there is awareness.
I am no different to the average Australian — I've got rent, utilities and two pets to feed – and I haven't let being Deafblind stop me from doing what I want to do, including cheerleading, gymnastics, soccer, tennis, hockey and, my favourite of all, ballroom dancing.
You might be wondering how the heck dancing works without being able to hear the music. The answer is, it's all through touch.
I have developed methods with my coach that allow us to practice and compete with ease. Well, maybe ease is the wrong adjective.
Competing at a national level is not what one would consider easy, but I can overcome the part Deafblindness plays in chasing my dance dreams.
Simon Mills, pictured alongside me, and I have only danced together for 13 months, and yet we've achieved some remarkable results at a number of major competitions, including the 76th Australian Dancesport Championship in 2022.
I am overwhelmingly grateful to the ABC for the opportunity they've given me. Working as a subeditor has given me a sense of purpose and the feeling that I am useful after all.
Looking to the future, I am hopeful that an opportunity to work on TV may present itself. There isn't enough representation of disabled people in television roles so this is something I'd like to do to inspire others not to be afraid of the spotlight.
I am not limiting myself though, I am quite keen to try new things so who knows what doors might open for me. Anything is possible so I guess I'll wait and see what next adventure awaits.
This week is Deafblind Awareness Week, which coincides with Helen Keller's birthday, and was established to acknowledge the contributions Deafblind people make to society and highlight the challenges and barriers they face.