We rented a community room outside Little Rock and invited qualified instructors to provide CPR/AED education.
June helped us connect with people knowledgeable about AAC and accessible communication.
A Deaf instructor and an interpreter also participated in a separate introductory session focused on respectful communication, common misconceptions, and resources for learning sign language properly.
We advertised the sessions to club members and their families.
Then we opened additional places to people in the community.
I expected fifteen riders.
Maybe twenty.
Forty-three people arrived.
Some wore leather vests.
Others wore work uniforms, jeans, or ordinary weekend clothes.
One elderly woman came because her husband had a heart condition.
A young father brought his teenage son.
A school employee wanted to learn how to respond to emergencies.
And several members of our club arrived looking as nervous as children starting a new class.
During the CPR session, Hank raised his hand.
The instructor looked toward him.
โYes, sir?โ
Hank pointed toward the training manikin.
โIs this thing going to tell everybody how bad I am?โ
The room erupted in laughter.
The instructor smiled.
โIt'll provide feedback.โ
Hank frowned.
โThat's what my ex-wife used to call it.โ
Everyone laughed again.
But once the training began, the men took it seriously.
They practiced.
Asked questions.
Corrected mistakes.
And discovered that physical strength alone didn't make someone an effective responder.
Technique mattered.
Following instructions mattered.
Knowing when to step aside for trained professionals mattered.
By the end of the day, several riders admitted they'd previously been unsure how to use an AED.
Others had relied on outdated information about CPR.
The training replaced confidence based on appearances with confidence built on actual practice.
That was exactly what I'd hoped for.
The communication session was even more humbling.
Our instructor explained the difference between learning a few useful signs and being able to communicate fluently in American Sign Language.
She discussed how people might use sign language, AAC devices, gestures, written communication, or combinations suited to their individual needs.
Then she asked us a question.
โWhat do you do when someone is trying to communicate something and you don't understand?โ
Several hands went up.
One rider suggested asking a caregiver.
Another said he'd try writing the question down.
A third said he'd speak more slowly.
The instructor listened.
Then explained that the first step was recognizing the person as the one communicating.
Don't automatically speak over them.
Don't assume they don't understand.
Don't treat their gestures as meaningless simply because you're unfamiliar with them.
And don't assume one communication method works for everyone.
I sat in the front row, listening carefully.
I thought about Nora.
The moment she grabbed my vest.