As a designer passionate about accessibility and UX, I often notice how poor design creates barriers—especially in my personal life. My family has a history of hearing loss from Meniere’s disease, a condition that affects the inner ear and causes progressive impairment. I’ve seen firsthand how assistive technologies can both help and fall short.

Recently, my mom and I flew to Winnipeg to visit with my 94-year-old grandmother, who is now nearly deaf. I quickly realized how dependent she has become on lip-reading, and even then, she often isn’t getting the full message. Her hearing loss has progressed to the point where she can only very occasionally catch fragments of conversation. Sign language was never something she learned, and it isn’t likely she’ll pick it up now.

I’m deeply grateful for the quality time we still have together—she’s cognitively sharp and still loves to hear all about our lives—but without the ability to hear, connecting with each other has become hard.

That’s why I was so moved by the experience of using Apple’s live caption feature that my aunt had set up on my grandma’s iPad before our visit. For the first time in a decade, I was able to have a real conversation with my grandma. The technology turned our speech into real-time, readable text, which allowed her to actually understand what we were saying. Sure, we had to keep reminding her to look at the iPad, which was frustrating for her as she’d rather look at our faces, but when she smiled after reading what we said, I knew it was worth the trade-off.

My mom is following a similar path. Her recent hearing surgery wasn’t successful, so she’s begun using hearing aids. The technology sounds impressive: one setting boosts speech in loud environments, but in reality, it boosts all voices, making conversations in busy places like restaurants overwhelming and exhausting for her. The paradox is annoying—she needs the aid in noisy spaces, but that’s precisely where it’s least effective.

It’s easy to be impressed by features like live captions—but at a recent book launch for Initiate’s client, disability advocate Max Brault, I listened to accessibility pioneer Leah Riddell’s opinion. Leah described captions not as a groundbreaking innovation, but as the bare minimum. It made me pause and reconsider everything.

She shared a chilling anecdote from her past: working in an office ~25 years ago, she noticed something felt “off” one day. People were behaving strangely, but no one told her what was happening. It wasn’t until she got home and turned on the (captioned) news that she learned the Twin Towers had collapsed. It’s a stark reminder of how much we absorb just by overhearing—and how isolating it can be to live without access to that layer of communication.

This is the reality for my Grandma and likely a great many seniors every day. I watched as the care staff spoke to her. It was obvious she didn’t hear what they were saying. It took a subsequent action (like being handed her medication or wheeled to the dining room) for her to understand what was said. The silence she lives in isn’t just quiet—it’s a lack of context, inclusion, and understanding.

Leah said something that’s stuck with me: “Without language, we fall behind.” And she’s right.

Canada, unfortunately, lags behind in providing consistent, systemic access to interpreters or paid ASL training. In many other countries, interpreters are standard in places like medical settings. Here, you’re expected to provide and pay for one yourself. That gap reflects a broader issue: whether we see accessibility as a bonus or as a basic right.

Assistive technology has come a long way. But until we pair it with human-centered systems that consider dignity, inclusion, and equity as essential, we’ll keep missing the mark. Lip-reading, captions, hearing aids are all tools. But access, understanding, and the right to be part of the conversation is the goal.

Interested in learning more about advances in the rights of Canadians with disabilities? Check out Max Brault’s book, The Race to the Starting Line. It’s a fascinating read for those with disabilities and those interested in enshrining human rights in our country.