Tag Archives: disability

Video Samples

31 Jul

As promised (albeit a while ago), I’m putting videos of my prior public speaking experience here on my blog. The goal is to start making a living as a public speaker beginning in August. I will gladly take lower-priced work for now but eventually will raise my prices as more work comes in.

The following videos were created on different subjects over the past few years. In 2021 I took part in a guided conversation put on by the Portland Gay Men’s Chorus’ DEI committee, of which I’m a member. Reid Vanderburgh, Santo Cavallaro, and myself all presented different aspects of living with disabilities and how frought life can be when dealing with stereotypes and misunderstandings. My portion of the video lasts approximately 17 minutes. Please take the time to watch the rest of the video if you’re willing.

The second video was created during the pandemic and appropriately focuses on “How to Create Better Stage Presence on Zoom.” I hope you enjoy it and gain some useful information that can help you create better presentations on Zoom or other platforms.

https://media.pdx.edu/media/t/1_sjncf5p1

Statistical Improbabilities

10 Mar

How often do you pay attention to statistics when you’re thinking about going out for a specific job or activity? And what do you tell someone who thinks you shouldn’t be able to accomplish something because so few people succeed at it?

Recently, for whatever reason, I started paying attention to statistics, especially pertaining to my own life and how unusually singular my circumstances were. Case in point: I was born with an extremely rare congenital neurological disorder known as Moebius syndrome. This condition is so rare that significantly less than 1% of the human population has it. Furthermore, at the time I was diagnosed, approximately 300 known cases had been correctly diagnosed since 1900.

Upon learning about my condition, the doctors spoke with my parents, earnestly stating that I should be placed into an institution since the chances of me pursuing a normal life were very remote. Thankfully, my parents decided against this course of action and took me home. By the age of three, we discovered I had perfect pitch after I could play the theme song from the movie Patton on the piano note for note. At the age of four, I taught myself to read which facilitated my entry into the talented and gifted (TAG) program. Regarding the prevalence of people with perfect pitch, 1 in 10,000 people have it, while 6% of all children in the United States participate in the TAG program.

When I entered high school in the early to mid 1980s, I discovered my love of acting and musical theater and very much wanted to consider acting as a career. However, there were extremely few actors with disabilities on television and film in those days. It wouldn’t be until 2007 that I finally made the decision to consider acting as a viable career, and even then, I was very wary of the statistics involved. Approximately 2% of all performers can make a living in the industry, and only 3% of all lines read from scripts are given to actors with disabilities.

I made it a point to learn about many performers with disabilities and their contributions to television and film but was not at all surprised to discover that we were not represented very well in the media. I admit to being daunted by those figures, but I nevertheless persisted in performing as a singer and very occasionally as an actor. To continue building on my acting skills, I ended up joining Toastmasters in 2013 to become a better actor and public speaker. I hadn’t even considered becoming a Distinguished Toastmaster until at least several years into my journey as a public speaker, whereupon I’d also learned that less than 1% of all Toastmasters become Distinguished Toastmasters.

Mark Twain is often quoted as saying, “There are three kinds of lies: Lies, damn lies, and statistics.” At this point, I think I’m closer to believing him than ever. Or to put this another way: At what point does paying attention to all these statistics become a distraction? Granted, statistics can be a great way of measuring success in a specific field of study, but it also has the negative effect of telling someone, hey, maybe you’re not ready for this profession yet. After all, if only a small percentage of people make a living as a performer, shouldn’t you consider alternatives, or at least have a Plan B?

The truth is that life isn’t all about statistics so much as it is about taking the first steps towards what you need to accomplish. And here’s what I’ve discovered: Statistical improbabilities can be thwarted by creating attainable goals, and no one should really tell you what you’re able to accomplish, even if it’s meant as sound advice. If you want to be an actor, for example, go for it. Maybe you won’t make a living from it, at least at first, but there are a lot of positive benefits from developing acting skills. Learning how to perform onstage can help boost your confidence, enhance your creativity, help you develop empathy for others, and provide a safe space to explore different emotional states. Above all, if it’s something you enjoy, keep at it, and ignore the naysayers who believe it won’t benefit you in the long run.

This year I’m committed to finishing my Distinguished Toastmasters Award, and the end is almost in sight with only a few more exercises to go before completing the process. Never mind the fact that I’ll be in the 1% of all Toastmasters who complete this journey; the main goal is to become an outstanding professional speaker, not to worry about the rarity of the circumstances or whether I can turn this into a full-time career. The point is to turn those chances you take in whatever career you choose into attainable goals that you can follow. I wish you well on your journey.

On Facing My Fears

10 Oct

I’ve been an artist for a long time. Specifically, my main areas of focus over the course of my life have been writing, singing, acting, and public speaking. Interestingly, however, I’ve very seldom thought about my “why” for each of these creative endeavors. With writing, I’ve always felt the need to write. It truly is my calling and can keep me up late at night or wake me early in the morning with a sentence or story tugging insistently at my consciousness. My desire to sing is almost as persistent as my calling to write. I don’t try to assign a reason for my singing beyond the fact that I truly love doing it. My public speaking experience came about as a result of my wanting to become a better actor. As a public speaker, my “why” is to be a better communicator and eventually educate people on a variety of different subjects.

Acting, however, has been a different beast altogether, and for a long time I’ve been very conflicted on where to go with it. I knew since I was a teenager that I wanted to create an acting career, but the reality is, my bilateral facial paralysis was always going to be problematic in terms of finding work as an actor. Even when I make the effort to speak more clearly, the lack of facial expression at best relegates me to being a specific type of character actor and at worst being treated as not much more than a stereotype. In some ways, this caused me even more headaches and sleepless nights than the stories that would flit through my head. I would often wonder, how do I create a career for myself as an actor when the odds are seemingly stacked against me because of my disability?

I’ve mentioned this next point in prior posts, but I’ll briefly restate it here. In 2007 I was inspired to go back into acting after reading an article about the successful career of another actor with a disability named Robert David Hall. Almost immediately after finishing that article, I sought out a teacher in television and film acting who in due course became my agent. In addition, I also began researching other performers with disabilities in order to discover how they succeeded in an industry where people with disabilities can often be overlooked or treated as a joke. Not surprisingly, if you do enough research, you’ll find that there are plenty of performers with disabilities in the entertainment industry. However, if you asked most people on the street to name five performers with disabilities, you’d probably get a few blank stares and maybe, just maybe, one or two responses to that question. And I guarantee you that very few of those performers with disabilities are working in any given year compared to their non-disabled counterparts. So while I was encouraged to find successfully working performers with disabilities in show business, it was disheartening to realize that we weren’t well-represented, let alone acknowledged for our accomplishments very often.

With all this in mind, even after getting an agent, I was justifiably terrified of going to auditions. I made some progress and scored a couple of projects very early on, but my fear eventually took over. There were times when I’d receive a notice from a casting agency, whereupon I’d look at the project and think, “Why would they think I’m perfect for this?” I would then blow it off and miss an audition thanks to my fears of how I’d be perceived as a person with a disability rather than realizing that the people who sent me the project notice already had access to my profile and realized I might be a good fit for them. In other words, I was a victim of my own self-sabotage, and I hated myself for it.

The inciting incident that turned things around for me was the pandemic as well as the realization during that time that I needed a hard reset with how I was doing things. My writing received a boost when I agreed to create a column for Voices! Magazine in 2021. My singing had never stopped, even during our isolation during the pandemic, as the Portland Gay Men’s Chorus created virtual concerts to supplement our season, ensuring that our audiences would still be able to see us. I kept active in Toastmasters as well, becoming an Area Director for a third time and attending all of my meetings virtually. But what was I to do about acting?

To this day, I’m still not completely sure how my acting career will work out, but figuring out my “why” was of paramount importance so I could create a more secure space for myself. Ironically, my “why” isn’t about security at all but instead its exact opposite: I act in order to face my fears as a person with a disability and to work past my concerns about how people perceive me. I act because I know there aren’t a lot of other people out there like me with facial paralyses who are working performers, and if I can be successful in my field, then maybe it will make room for other performers with disabilities to do the same. And I act because, frankly, it beats working at a desk in a crappy job that I hate. Yes, I know I could still go down that road, particularly since I’ve almost finished up my certification process as a medical biller and coder. But I’ll leave some grace for myself in that regard since I need a day job like everyone else to foot the bills to support myself as a writer and performer. I act because it matters to me, and maybe it will matter to other people who need to see positive representation in the disability community as well as in the larger society as a whole.

I don’t claim to have all the answers when it comes to finding or maintaining work as an actor. The one bit of reassurance I can give myself is that I’m not alone in facing my fears when I go out for a part. I see the nervousness in every person’s face when they go up on stage, and I know that nine times out of ten most of us will be rejected. But at least now I know why I perform as an actor, and maybe that’s enough to help me take the next few steps forward in creating a successful acting career for myself.

This Is Me, and Me Again

5 May

Some of you have read my About section in which I describe a bit of my background and the purpose of this blog. The video below could be considered a continuation of that story.

In November 2018, Bob Mensel, our then-Artistic Chair of the Portland Gay Men’s Chorus, emailed me asking me if I wanted to share my story in an upcoming concert entitled “Our Audacity to Hope.” In the concert, we would represent nine different minority groups through songs as well as short videos created for the event. I was asked to represent the disabled community. In summary, I was to write a 400-word letter of my life on growing up with Moebius syndrome which would then be narrated by me in the video. I also sent in photos of myself at different ages highlighting key periods of my life. Both of these would be utilized to make an approximately three-minute video to be shown at the concert.

Perhaps the biggest incentive that Bob gave me was that I would sing a solo right after the video ended, namely, the song “This Is Me” from the movie The Greatest Showman. I gladly said yes, both for the opportunity to sing such a wonderful song but also for the chance to tell my story. Too often, people with disabilities are shamed into not speaking up or stigmatized into believing that their stories don’t matter. I felt that sharing my story would inspire others to do the same.

In addition to Bob Mensel, I also want to also thank Tim Liszt and David Sims for their incredible work in creating the videos. It’s not easy putting together a synopsis of your life that can be shown in a three-minute video, believe me, and they did a masterful job with it. Big kudos should also be given to Vikram, Sue, Damon, and Gus for telling their stories and sharing their perspectives during our concert, “Our Audacity to Hope.” 

I’ve included the text of the letter below for clarity in case parts of my speech are harder to understand than others. Enjoy the video!

Dear Friends: 

There are times when posing for a picture that the photographer will ask, “David, why aren’t you smiling?” Let me take a moment to answer that question.

Shortly after I was born, it was discovered that I had a rare neurological disorder called Moebius syndrome. Essentially, the cranial nerves that control facial and eye movement did not connect properly, leaving me with a bilateral facial paralysis, which included partial paralysis of my tongue. In addition, I had clubbed feet and a lazy eye — both of which were corrected early on. 

While living with multiple physical disabilities from an early age was daunting enough, living with people’s perceptionsof what I had was probably the worst aspect of having Moebius syndrome. I was subject to considerable bullying, particularly because of the pronounced speech impediment that I still have today. It was not uncommon for people to believe that I was stupid or incompetent, despite ample evidence to the contrary.

I was quite fortunate, however, to have a solid network of family and friends. I grew up with two mothers, which made coming out as a gay man a lot easier. I was always encouraged in my academic pursuits, and I went to college twice, first earning an English degree with a minor in psychology from the University of Oregon, and later an associate’s degree in medical transcription from Mt. Hood Community College. But the accomplishment of which I’m most proud is that I have celebrated over 30 years of volunteerism and advocacy in the LGBTQ and other communities, which continues to the present day.  

I’ve never felt that my disability is a good indicator of my intelligence, talents, skills, or abilities. In fact, I believe that the measure of one’s worth can be found in one’s accomplishments, not merely in how a person copes with their disabilities. When telling people about my disability, I’ve also found that a healthy dose of self-deprecating humor is really the best way to break the ice. For example, I often mention that I have three advantages because of Moebius syndrome: I have a great poker face, I will never get any wrinkles, and my disability actually keeps the haters away. Keeping the humor intact while leading with my strengths has been the surest way for me to be successful in my life as a person.  

Thanks for listening. 

Sincerely, 

David Freedman

Portland Gay Men’s Chorus, “This Is Me”