By Penny Bennett

During the pandemic, many of us got a small taste of what it feels like to be cut off from the world around us. We experienced the loneliness, anxiety, and fear that comes from being unable to see friends, hear the chatter of a busy street, or feel the presence of community. It was a time of deep uncertainty, and it took a toll on our mental health.

But for those of us who are Deafblind, without proper support, this isolation is not a temporary hardship—it is a constant, unrelenting reality.

Imagine going through life without being able to see street signs, hear an approaching ambulance, or know when your name is called at the doctor's office. Imagine something as simple as not being able to tell if someone is smiling unless someone tells you. It’s something many of us take for granted – yet it is the everyday reality for people who are Deafblind – like me. 

Deafblindness is a distinct disability, which affects an estimated 466,000 Canadians over the age of 15 (Canadian Survey on Disability, 2017). It is a combined loss of hearing and vision to such an extent that neither the hearing nor vision can be used as a means of accessing information. 

Most people who are Deafblind usually have some degree of vision and/or hearing. They can have a high quality of life, pursue education, employment and maintain and form rewarding relationships, but they will often need support to do it.

Intervenors are trained professionals who act as the “eyes and ears” of a person who is Deafblind, providing specialized communication services and supports. For many, intervenors are the difference between a life of solitude and a life of possibility. 

When an intervenor is with me, I can engage with the world. They guide me safely through crowded streets, help me select groceries, and facilitate communication in everyday life. With an intervenor, I can navigate the world around me, maintain my independence, and feel connected to my community.

And yet, despite intervenor services being established in British Columbia in 2022 after years of tireless advocacy from the community, the funding for these essential services hangs in the balance. 
B.C. is my favourite place to be, so it was heartbreaking when I was forced to move out of province due to the lack of services available to people who are Deafblind.

And that’s why, when I was introduced to Bruce Turner, his story hit so close to home.

When Bruce was introduced to two-hand manual communication through CNIB Deafblind Community Services (DBCS) in Victoria, everything changed. At first, learning a new way to communicate seemed daunting. But with the encouragement of his dedicated intervenor, and a bit of persuasion from me, Bruce gave it a try.

When I spoke to Bruce after his first few lessons, it was like meeting a whole new person. His story is a testament to how critical these services are—they enable everything in life that matters: communication, family, healthcare, community, and so much more.
Bruce’s story is not just about learning a new skill; it is about reclaiming his place in the world. But without renewed funding for intervenor services, stories like Bruce’s will disappear.

Now that Bruce has experienced what it’s like to be supported—to have conversations with his loved ones, to live independently and with dignity—I cannot bear the thought that all of this might be ripped away from him.

The uncertainty surrounding the funding for Deafblind services in British Columbia is not just a budgetary issue—it is a human rights crisis. We have the right to live with dignity, to communicate with our loved ones, to actively participate in our communities. British Columbians who are Deafblind deserve to have access to the lifeline they can’t afford to lose.

We must remember the lessons of the pandemic. I call on the government of British Columbia to renew its funding for Deafblind services. To let this funding lapse is to condemn an already marginalized community to further isolation and hardship. We need these services not just to survive, but to thrive. We need them to ensure that no one is left behind, that no one is forgotten.