A Controlled Conversation Disguised as Community Engagement

Image Description: A tense Zoom meeting with muted participants and ignored raised hands, while a shadowy figure behind a curtain manipulates controls, symbolizing curated access and restricted dialogue.

On December 4, LightHouse announced a “community discussion” about its proposed takeover by the Guild, scheduled for December 8. DeafBlind and Deaf community members were effectively given 1.5 business days to secure accommodations—an exclusionary approach from an organization that claims to champion accessibility. Although LightHouse presents this as an opportunity for dialogue, the design of the event reflects the same pattern seen in its previous “fireside chats”: tightly managed sessions where leadership retains control over participation and narrative.

The required online sign-up form allows LightHouse to pre-screen attendees, track critics or staff who may raise concerns, and prioritize those who are more likely to align with leadership’s messaging. This is not genuine community involvement—it's audience curation. The choice to host the event on Zoom strengthens this dynamic even further. With full technical control, leadership can mute participants, disable chat, manage the speaking queue, eject attendees “for decorum,” and quietly discard questions that do not fit the preferred narrative. A meeting where leadership controls both the admission gate and the microphone is not a forum. It is a managed presentation.

This controlled structure mirrors the two prior “fireside chats,” where community members spoke to LightHouse under narrow constraints while leadership minimized or reframed criticism. In contrast, when leadership sought celebration rather than scrutiny—such as the CEO “Welcome” event in early 2023 or “LightHouse Day” in June—the doors were open, formats were accessible, and participation was unrestricted. When applause is expected, access expands; when accountability is needed, access contracts.

Equally troubling is LightHouse’s record of mishandling or erasing feedback after such events. According to former employees, leadership has repeatedly claimed that transcripts were “lost,” always after meetings where blind and DeafBlind participants raised meaningful criticism. Positive remarks survive; dissent disappears. This selective preservation is not transparency. It is reputation management.

The December 8 “community discussion” follows this same logic: leadership sets the terms, filters who enters, controls the technology, and ultimately defines what is acknowledged. Afterward, LightHouse will likely assert that it “listened,” even though the structure is designed to limit dissent and elevate safe commentary. With a potential takeover by the Guild at stake, blind and DeafBlind Californians deserve open, accessible, community-led forums—not another tightly managed event intended to preempt accountability.

If LightHouse were serious about community participation, it would bring the community to LightHouse with open arms and sufficient notice, ready for constructive input and community-based solutions. Until then, this so-called “community discussion” is not evidence of transparency. It is one more example of leadership’s ongoing effort to control, not collaborate with, the community it claims to serve.