Being Bryan: A voice in the microphone
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Contact Bryan for interviews, voiceovers, and stage work!
“Thank you, sir, but I don’t need your prayer at this time,” Bryan Velazquez, a group sales rep with Omnium Circus, said to a McDonald’s employee. Bryan’s clear and somehow familiar voice sounds something like an emcee as he shares this story with me. I am totally sucked in; almost as if I am standing behind him in line about to order a 6-piece chicken McNugget.
Next, the man placed his hands directly on Bryan’s face. Bryan was thankful to feel gloves rather than bare hands as he repeated, “I don’t accept your prayer. Please stop. Otherwise I may need to speak to your manager.”
The man wanted to pray for Bryan because he could tell that Bryan is legally blind. People tend to interact with those with low vision in reliably predictable ways. If not over-praising their bravery or using them as tools for their own desire to repent some unrelated sin, they expect all individuals in NYC who are blind to be visiting only a small number of locations in the city.
Bryan poses with his arms folded across his chest. He’s smiling with his chin held high while wearing a vibrant purple shirt that says “Omnium - A bold new circus.” | Photo Credit: Dany Vo, designer.
Contact Bryan for interviews, voiceovers, and stage work!
Here’s an example: MTA train conductors commonly assume Bryan is headed to one of about three subway stations out of the 472 stations that make up NYC’s transit system.
“Should I let you know when we hit 66th Street?” an MTA employee might ask Bryan, guessing he’s going to the Lighthouse Guild. The Guild “provides exceptional services that inspire people who are visually impaired to attain their goals,” according to its website. The conductors do mean well and Bryan appreciates feeling looked out for. The weird part lies in Bryan, like others with low vision, having to get past the fact that nearly everyone imagines his life is mundane and restricted.
There’s some comedy in this. Even a bit of hypocrisy. Bryan was born just eight months after the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) became law in 1990. The law intends to protect citizens with any disability in all areas of life - jobs, schools, transportation and more. In other words, 1990 was the first time our country’s legislature thought that people with disabilities should live a life most true to their own desires. Tangible outputs of the ADA are numerous, both small and huge; some examples: it made it impossible to legally deny a person with a disability from entering a restaurant, to force institutionalization, and to conduct involuntary sterilizations, according to the National Geographic Article entitled “How the Americans with Disabilities Act transformed a country.” The book Riding the Bus with My Sister by Rachel Simon showcases Rachel’s journey toward acceptance of her sister with an intellectual disability who spends her days traversing the bus system of her Pennsylvania town. Rachel’s book perfectly details the idea of purpose in our post-ADA world and I recommend reading it.
Like Rachel’s sister, Bryan’s purpose on the NYC’s transit system is far greater than presumed. He gets himself to his appointments, his place of work, bars and restaurants to meet loved ones, and to his friends’ apartments. A small fraction of his trips on the MTA or other transit systems take Bryan to agencies that service the blind. And as I write this paragraph, I believe Bryan’s on an Amtrak train headed to Washington D.C. for his work with Omnium Circus.
Bryan did not start his career in entertainment; he studied therapeutic recreation at St. Thomas Aquinas College. Therapeutic recreation is a process that uses recreation and activities as interventions to enhance skills of patients with a variety of illnesses or physical limitations, according to the National Council for Therapeutic Recreation Certification.
His transition from therapeutic recreation into his entertainment career highlights a concept I must keep repeating: people who are disabled often act from a fear that they’re about to be left behind rather than the belief they're about to succeed. Bryan might have longed to be onstage as a child, but he did not believe that dream belonged to him. And his path to employment with the circus and securing voiceover work was indirect.
That is likely because a lot of young people with low vision gravitate toward careers that help other people in some way and Bryan is among that population for choosing to work in therapeutic recreation. One theory is that children with low vision experience the world at a slightly slower pace initially as they work so closely with adults in human services careers. Therefore, those young people may witness a more restricted view of the available career paths they could choose from.
Bryan sits next to a plant in front of a white wall. He has a relaxed smile and appears to be facing a light source. His purple shirt reads “Omnium - A bold new circus.” | Photo Credit: Dany Vo, designer.
A career in human services can be extremely rewarding and these roles are vital to our society. And in many ways, it is an excellent way for people with low vision to earn an income in a meaningful way. What I am actually concerned with is the notion that young people who are blind do not get equal chances to consider, nor the encouragement, to pursue the career path most true to their own desire.
Another theory - folks with blindness also possess a familiarity with some darker aspects of humanity. Perhaps our experiences being marginalized, prayed for, excluded from jobs, and mocked, gives us a feeling known as compassion. Is it possible that some people who are blind choose their career path based on an abundance of compassion and their belief that they can succeed at helping others? And if so, is this fair?
Most fully-abled humans appear to act from a belief that they’re about to succeed and they prioritize their own happiness, wealth accumulation, and immediate family. Instead of advancing ourselves, people with blindness and other disabilities instead look to uplift all of the people around us. Humans (I think) are rather simple - if a person cannot get gratification in their career or through earning juicy bonuses, would they not become conditioned to earn reward from assisting another person?
Honestly, it makes sense to me that Bryan chose this path. It sounds fun! And very rewarding. Bryan also let me know how much he enjoys therapeutic recreation despite a burning urge to perform.
Let’s get into the transition I keep alluding to. One day Bryan noticed that an accessible circus needed volunteers to work with audience members with a range of disabilities. Bryan decided to lend his time to help out. He remembers facilitating what were called “touch tours” where children in the audience could feel the costumes to sense and perceive them prior to the performers taking the stage. He also led a “post-touch tour” where children could experience the props used in the show through feeling, asking questions, and getting a much closer look.
While volunteering, Bryan was wearing a sharp outfit and someone working for the circus offered him the chance to speak into the microphone. Impressed by his voice, Bryan was invited to be the guest ringleader!
“I didn’t think I'd get there. Something I really loved when I was little and now all of the sudden I was really about to do it,” Bryan recalled about his experience.
Hearing Bryan’s story, I am seeing that he started to act out of the belief he could succeed. What happened? Enter: kindness. The circus employee presented Bryan with the chance to try his voice as an announcer. It was so helpful for him to learn that he actually was capable and had “the voice” for the types of roles in entertainment and live performance he was interested in landing. This feeling blossomed, and validated a lot more about Bryan’s capabilities and talents. He learned he had the people skills, business sense, and charisma to move a bit away from therapeutic recreation, yet the accessible performances and the touch tours he led did call upon his background. Nowadays working with Omnium Circus, Bryan’s career evolved to providing customer service, and then to selling tickets and working in the box office. Eventually, he began conducting outreach and group sales programs for the organization. And he more regularly enjoys guest ringleading and voiceover work with them; Bryan began thriving at Omnium Circus. He even gained the confidence to sign up to be an extra in Into the Heights; an audition for broadway! He was aware the chances of getting cast were low and did not get a spot.
“When I first looked into voiceover work and acting, I was like, ‘yes forget Supplemental Security Income. I’m taking control of my life.’ I was excited by the idea I could come off of SSI,” Bryan shared with me. “But I realized quickly I couldn’t go into it with that mindset. That’s when an ego starts,” he continued. Bryan is a humble person and I respect that he would check his ego. But when he said this during our interview, it was a shock to me. While living in Manhattan since 2018, I have not witnessed a person with freedom from disability evaluating their own ego.
SSI is an important program in our country. However, it is not something that most disabled people wish to participate in. In my opinion, SSI is a copout by the US government due to an exclusionary workforce with blatant discrimination that still remains today. From holding conversations with folks with a variety of disabilities, a theme reigns: these amazing people don’t want society to give to them; they want to give to society.
Bryan’s desire to attend college and study therapeutic recreation has been a great plan for him to give to society. When he arrived at St. Thomas Aquinas College in suburban Rockland County, New York, the college staff shared that they could remember only one other somewhat-recent student with blindness. This means that Bryan actually taught his educators and the staff about the accessibility needs of those with low vision. In other words, he was teaching, providing insight, and helping others to accept and understand from a young age.
His peers in college were more accepting of him than in high school and earlier, but it wasn’t perfect. Bryan shared with me that occasionally people he thought were his friends would lie on weekends that they were going to bed. He told me it really hurt the first time he woke up finding out the party was “totally lit” and a wild time. Another scenario: his peers were going to a blackout party where the venue was extremely dark. It stung when his peers tried to tell him the reason he couldn’t go was due to the lighting; they falsely imagined he wouldn’t do well there. “It’s too dark. You can’t come.” I was so happy to learn that Bryan’s best friend in college took him and other friends out instead.
Bryan quickly turned his pain into inspiration for teachable moments. Instead of using anger, Bryan would educate his friends and peers about his capabilities. He’d clarify that he could do a lot more than they imagined; he could’ve gone to the party. Bryan cannot see well in bright light, dim light, medium light, nor blacklight. He’s used to not seeing things well! Their reason for trying to exclude him was truly imagined. I respect Bryan for rising above the dishonesty and quite frankly the meanness that he experienced.
After college, Bryan’s loving and supportive family continued to help him gain independence. He did admit, though, that any family may see a person with low vision as younger than they actually are. I laughed when Bryan reenacted: “Sorry, Grandmom, I do enjoy a drink on occasion!”
Bryan’s family hails from the Dominican Republic where he tells me treatment of people with blindness is far worse than in the US. He recalls people telling his mother it was abuse to take him to the movie theater while he visited her in the Dominican Republic. The only other option would be to ask Bryan to stay home, and what kind of option is that? “Hearing a movie can be so much better than watching it,” he said to me. “You pay attention to the movie differently. I sense the audio, breathing sounds, changes in music, and more. It’s enjoyable for me,” he continued. It’s a bonus when audio descriptions are available.
At home in NYC, Bryan let me know his neighborhood seems to be a bit behind in inclusion compared to other areas. He wants people of latinx and in particular Dominican heritage to know he just wants to have fun too. He told me about a few bars in his neighborhood that have discriminated against him for fearing he could fall or get hurt. One time it was so uncomfortable that his cousin had to step in to speak to the management with Bryan. The tone was fear of a lawsuit if Bryan slipped, rather than concern for his wellbeing. Like people with typical vision who bump into something or have a fall, blind people usually are not interested in organizing lawsuits.
Bryan also celebrates these same people in his neighborhood. As a young person learning Orientation and Mobility Training to navigate, Bryan recalls folks offering tips or pointing - “Papi, aquí!” - as they helped him locate something in the store. At first, Bryan thought he should do everything himself and I smiled when he said he didn’t want his instructor to see the support he’d get while training. These days, he tells me he’s learned to guard against an indignant feeling of wanting total independence. “Why not accept help from a neighbor?” Bryan asks me rhetorically. I think all of us regardless of impairment need a little help.
My best interpretation of Bryan’s path to becoming a successful adult is that as a young person, he did not feel any entitlement whatsoever. Yet, experiences he had early in his life gave him the compassion and the confidence to pursue a meaningful career in a human services area. The day that Bryan thought he was simply volunteering to lead the “Touch Tours,” he got a chance to set his career and life in a new direction. He was ready to get behind the mic thanks to his talent, his efforts to educate rather than become angry, and his willingness to try new things. He was prepared to make his dream a reality.
This is my first blog post with a call to action. If you love someone who has a disability, brainstorm with them about the path they can create to speak into their version of the microphone.
