An Accidental Middle Finger: Why Versatile Communication Helps Everyone

What a simple blunder taught me about how much we assume — and often misunderstand — when it comes to communication.

Welcome back to Curious Constructs, where I seek to understand and challenge the barriers that prevent us from bringing our full, authentic selves forward — whether those barriers are personal or systemic.

Rethink This: How We Communicate

A Communication Challenge — and an Accidental Middle Finger

During my time at the State Department as the U.S. Special Advisor on International Disability Rights, an unexpected moment — involving an accidental middle finger — reminded me how much we all rely on assumptions in communication — and how letting them go can lead to more genuine connections.

In 2023, I visited Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia on an official diplomatic visit. On these trips, embassies on the ground often organize meetings and site visits — from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs to a Ford plant employing persons with disabilities. This time, I visited the world’s oldest Starbucks “Signing Store” — designed to provide inclusive employment opportunities for the deaf and hard-of-hearing community.

This was not the first time I, as a blind person, communicated with a deaf person, but it was one of the most unexpectedly funny. One of the baristas was signing in Malaysian Sign Language, showing me how to sign his name. Someone nearby was verbally describing what he was doing with his hands, and I was trying to mimic his movements with my own.

Ironically, I’m not an auditory learner, so this exercise was challenging. I kept trying and trying, and my colleague, Hanah, finally said, “Sara, stop giving them the middle finger!”

I told her I wasn’t! But apparently, I was: I’d rested my middle finger on my chin, fist closed, with the back of my hand facing the barista. We went back and forth several times — and I just kept unknowingly giving him the finger.

Eventually, the barista took my hands and showed me the signs directly — which worked so much better for me.

Later, when we got back in the car, Hanah laughed and said, “You really were giving them the middle finger at first!”

I insisted I wasn’t. I stuck my middle finger out with my palm down, fist closed, parallel to the ground and shot my arm out horizontally. “This is how you give the middle finger!” I told her, pointing it straight out.

She laughed harder than I've heard her laugh before. “What? Since when?” Then she took my hand and showed me what everyone in the sighted world knows to be the middle finger and what I had spent five minutes signing at the barista.

“Wait, that’s the middle finger?!” I asked.

When you think about it, it makes sense. I lost my sight when I was seven. I was never taught how to give the middle finger, and it’s something that really relies on a visual element to learn. I had taken the description very literally.

(Side note: I later asked my sister, who is also blind, how she would give the middle finger — and she did the exact same thing I did!)

That small, funny misunderstanding made me realize how much we rely on assumptions to communicate. But what if we removed those preconceptions and connected in ways that truly work for each of us?

Take a moment to be present with that — stripping away expectations and usual signals can feel uncomfortable and uncertain, but it’s also freeing. Imagine coming together beyond body language or facial expressions, from a place of genuine understanding and openness.

Why Flexible Communication Matters — and Why It’s at the Heart of In the Dark

We assume so much about how people interact, but there’s no single “right” method. Each of us communicates in our own way, shaped by what we’ve been taught, our cultures, what’s accessible to us and our life experiences. Often, these assumptions lead to misunderstandings.

This happens all the time — online, in body language, everywhere. We rarely pause to ask whether we’re all reading from the same script.

Especially with the current climate and divisions in our country, stripping away the assumptions we hold and approaching each other with genuine curiosity is essential — and that’s exactly what In the Dark is about. Participants are blindfolded — not to simulate blindness, but to remove sight and verbal preconceptions so people can connect more authentically, without judgment. It creates a space to listen actively, think creatively and work differently. I’ve seen it spark breakthroughs in everything from leadership retreats to cross-cultural negotiations to product design sessions — moments where diverse perspectives could surface without the usual filters.

When we’re too focused on how others perceive us, and can’t communicate naturally, we limit the ideas and value we bring to the table.

Allowing for versatile ways of communicating also opens the door to creativity and innovation. In the Dark is about allowing flexibility and grace — creating ways of connecting that work for all and that can be applied to a wide range of situations — whether to build team trust, have difficult conversations, shed light on organizational gaps or co-create solutions.

Sometimes those approaches don’t overlap neatly — like between a blind and a deaf person — but we still came together and figured things out through touch. Without that flexibility, we would have missed the opportunity to connect.

‘Standard’ Communication Is Arbitrary and Often Inaccessible

Some behaviors might seem offensive or unusual depending on the context, but they can also be about access. When I walk into a room, I often say, “OK, who’s who? Who is sitting where?” That may seem unusual or feel uncomfortable — but it’s how I get oriented.

I sometimes point at people, too. That can be seen as rude, but for me, it’s a way to stay focused on who I’m speaking to. I do a lot of things that help me engage — and they make communication more accessible.

These are behavioral communication choices — some conventional, some not. But culture attaches value and assumptions to what’s “good” or “bad” behavior. So much of what’s considered “normal” is built on assumptions — assumptions not everyone shares or has access to.

We All Benefit from More Adaptive and Dynamic Communication

One other thing that stuck with me: the barista who was teaching me showed so much patience and understanding. In my experience, mainstream spaces can feel more cutthroat and judgmental. But when people with disabilities lead, there’s often more understanding and grace, and a willingness to adapt, innovate and figure things out.

When you’re communicating with someone, how do you remain open — willing to understand, to innovate, to find humor in the process?

That’s what makes In the Dark such a powerful tool. In that space, we strip away visual cues and assumptions. People get to communicate how they want — and receive information in ways that work for them. It removes labels and invites curiosity.

There’s real power in that. Humor, too, helps humanize the interaction. Like with the middle finger story — no one was offended. One person was signing, another was speaking and I was understanding through touch and listening. But we all felt comfortable being honest. I wasn’t ashamed, and no one else was either. We were like, “You know what? We’re going to figure this out together.” It was a funny mishap — but that helped us connect.

When we acknowledge there’s no one way to communicate, we make room for innovation — and everyone benefits. But it starts with how we frame it.

We shouldn't say “this is for disabled people” or call it “special” or “different.” That keeps inclusive approaches on the margins. Instead, flexible communication should be normalized and celebrated. We all communicate and process differently — so let’s build spaces that reflect that from the start.

Fashion with Fida: “Sports Chic”

Welcome back to Fashion with Fida, where I share style tips from my mom, Fida, along with reflections and ideas about accessible, modest fashion that’s expressive and fully you. This week, I want to share a story about my experience at the 2024 Paralympic Games in Paris, where I was told I should dress in “sports chic.”

“Sports chic?” In my mind, there are “sports” clothes (athletic gear) and there are “chic” clothes (classy and put-together). It was hard to envision combining the two styles — because I don’t see how people dress and had never really imagined what “sports chic” actually looks like.

I was on official travel as part of the Presidential Delegation to the Games, so I had to look professional and polished — but also… “sports chic.”

We were all given a Team USA shirt to wear and told to dress it up. For me, that meant a few extra layers of consideration: keeping the outfit modest, finding something comfortable yet presentable and somehow making it all feel cohesive. I was given a white t-shirt with a navy blue Team USA logo, but I wanted to pair it with a jacket, for modesty. Then came the challenge of matching shades of blue: Even though I can’t see color, it really bothers me when I know my clothes don’t match perfectly.

I opted for a pair of loose, flowy navy blue pants and a navy blue blazer with vertical red stripes. Since I was part of a delegation with the Secretary of Health and sat next to the Mayor of Los Angeles at one point, I wanted to be “sports chic,” and still look my best.

Although it was stressful, it all came together in the end — not because I suddenly mastered “sports chic,” but because I learned how to make it my own. And maybe that’s the real secret to any style: wear it in a way that works for you and makes you feel confident.

Further Reading, Deeper Thinking: A Dangerous Shift in How We Treat Disability

Last month, President Trump signed the executive order: “Ending Crime and Disorder on American Streets.” On the surface, it sounds like it’s about public safety — but what it actually does is target people with mental health disabilities, substance use disorders and unhoused people. It pushes states to criminalize people just for existing in public with a disability or without housing. It encourages more institutions, more forced treatment, more surveillance — instead of real support.

This policy change suggests that people with disabilities cannot be trusted to make decisions about their own lives. When we normalize the idea that someone with a mental health condition can be locked away “for their own good,” we are all put at risk.

Here are some leaders to read and follow, to dive deeper into this policy change and how it affects the disability community:

Mental Health Partnerships recently rejected this executive order, and offers support to those experiencing mental health crises. Read more here.

The American Civil Liberties Union condemned the order, writing that “pushing people into locked institutions and forcing treatment won’t solve homelessness or support people with disabilities. The exact opposite is true — institutions are dangerous and deadly, and forced treatment doesn’t work. We need safe, decent, and affordable housing as well as equal access to medical care and voluntary, community-based mental health and evidence-based substance use treatment from trusted providers.” Read more here.

Earlier this year, The Emancipator wrote about the threat of eugenics in the Trump administration’s health policies. Read more here.

A piece in Scientific American titled “Making America Ableist Again” argues that “by going after Social Security, the Department of Veterans Affairs and the Department of Education, Donald Trump is signaling his belief that having ‘good genes’ means not having a disability.” Read more here.

Until next week — let’s be curious about ourselves, each other and the narratives that shape us.

Warmly,
Sara

Sara Minkara is a world-renowned speaker and visionary who challenges traditional perspectives on leadership, disability, and human potential. As the former U.S. Special Advisor on International Disability Rights, she transformed how nations and international organizations approach diplomacy and leadership in disability-related issues. Her unique identity as a blind Muslim woman and Arab-American entrepreneur informs her experiences offering a fresh and powerful perspective on authenticity and leadership.