Elisabetta Gabardella, a speech therapist and Italian Sign Language (LIS) interpreter, has worked for years with the disability catechesis working groups of the Diocese of Rome alongside don Luigi d’Errico and the National Catechetical Office. Her experience with the deaf community grew out of the Neocatechumenal community she belongs to. She is soon to marry Riccardo Calanca, a young deaf man involved in the “Kite for the Deaf” project — a kitesurfing initiative in which a kite pulls the rider across the water on a small surfboard.
The two shared their experiences and introduced the basic LIS courses now running for two years across seven Roman parishes, at a training day on catechesis for people with disabilities held last April and organized by the Rome Diocesan Catechetical Office’s disability sector, under the direction of don Andrea Cavallini.
Hearing Riccardo tell his story — as a deaf person who uses both speech and sign — gave us much to think about. His hearing parents chose an oral approach to his education, teaching him to understand speech through lip-reading. Their concern was that relying on LIS alone might prevent him from ever developing spoken language and could increase his risk of social exclusion. Even so, Riccardo faced serious difficulties: lip-reading is far from effortless and depends on accommodations from the speaker that are not always made. At school he could follow lessons reasonably well at the start of the day — with the help of a communication assistant — but as the hours passed, it became increasingly hard to keep up, especially with conversations among classmates. At church, following along with the printed order of service was not enough to make him feel part of the celebration. Elisabetta explained that a deaf person’s reading comprehension often resembles that of someone with a learning disability. After his First Communion, Riccardo stopped attending church — disengaged and bored. Years later, he discovered LIS and found, in his own words — words that speak volumes — “peace!”
Having access to communication that immediate — at the speed of light — changed his life. His participation in community life took on new depth through a renewed ability to understand. Elisabetta captures well what it feels like to be deaf among hearing people: imagine waking up one morning to find everyone around you speaking ancient Mandarin Chinese, or everyone but you communicating through signs. The sense of isolation would be immediate and complete.
Building a base of people in parishes who can offer a first welcome to deaf individuals means giving them a genuine chance to belong to parish life. Several churches in Rome offer Sunday Mass with a sign language interpreter, but being welcomed in your own neighborhood is a meaningful way to feel part of the Church — the people of God. That, Elisabetta tells us, is what sparked the idea two years ago: to organize basic LIS courses that would raise awareness among pastoral workers, catechists, youth ministers, and anyone else interested.
Why does this matter so much? “Above all, to break a vicious cycle: deaf people have never been welcomed in the right way, so they don’t come to church — but they don’t come to church because there’s no one to interpret for them or provide tools to help them follow along. Deafness is not visible the way other disabilities are: we risk failing to notice deaf people at all, and in doing so denying them the possibility of a Christian spiritual journey — something essential for every baptized person.” For several years now, LIS has also been used with positive results for people with significant communication delays who might otherwise be cut off from the essential capacities that develop in every person through communication alone.
The courses, offered at minimal cost, have attracted considerable interest: in the seven parishes where they have been held — thanks to the willingness of the pastors involved, five in Rome and two in Ostia — classes have drawn around 25 participants each, and other parishes have already expressed interest or requested a second year of the introductory course to continue deepening their knowledge of LIS.
The introductory course covers the basics of deafness, LIS, and lip-reading, and teaches everyday and religious signs along with a few prayers — all designed to ease the first encounter with catechism, so that deaf children are not merely passive spectators. Their daily lives, Elisabetta reminds us, are already demanding: between speech therapy sessions and keeping up with schoolwork, they have little time or energy left for social relationships. Using LIS — as Riccardo himself has so clearly shown — is the key to genuine understanding, participation, and awareness. Riccardo, now a kitesurfing instructor in Ostia, also supports the inclusion of deaf youth in mixed groups. He knows from personal experience how important it is to have an interpreter who can bridge the gap: when he himself was placed in a group of hearing peers, the response he received — almost certainly with the best of intentions — was often just a questioning thumbs-up asking if he had understood. Better than nothing? Perhaps. But hardly what anyone would call inclusion.