Deafney grieved. He was deaf. He grieved—for this society, for this world, with seething anger. As a child, he was called a “dummy.” In high school, he was forbidden to speak in sign language. As an animator, neither colleagues nor superiors would bother to write with him. One day, a fellow Deaf friend—someone who always smiled—could no longer bear the loneliness at work. He left his job, his family, and finally, this world, alone. That evening, upon hearing the news, Deafney trembled with unbearable sorrow. For the first time, he screamed at the center of the world. And he made a vow: —I will tell the story of one who lives in a world without sound. I will capture its light, and breathe it into the form of animation. From that moment on, he strove to completely cast off the outdated, “welfare” image of deafness. He sought to share sign language—a culture that must be protected—with the world through animation. As the dream grew, he envisioned even more: A theme park, where people could step into their world and enjoy it. Sign language, written communication, lip-reading—all the delicate, rich tools of Deaf culture— He wanted the world to experience them not as deficits, but as attractions to marvel at.