Kallyn Long

Good morning.

My name is Kallyn Long, and I am honored to stand here today at the South Carolina State House for Disability Advocacy Day with The Arc of South Carolina.

I am a junior in high school, a proud daughter, a pageant titleholder, an author, an advocate, and I am single-sided deaf.

But my story didn’t begin with hearing loss.

I was adopted at birth, and for most of my life, I had no idea that I carried a rare genetic condition called Enlarged Vestibular Aqueduct syndrome. In seventh grade, on what was supposed to be a fun class trip, I rode a roller coaster and when I stepped off, my world went silent in one ear.

Just like that.

In a moment, everything changed.

I suddenly had to relearn how to navigate school, friendships, crowded hallways, classrooms, and the world around me. People often don’t realize that single-sided deafness isn’t just about volume. It affects balance, direction, focus, and energy. My brain has to work overtime just to process sound.

Imagine trying to take a test while running a marathon inside your mind.

But I stand here today to tell you something important:

My hearing loss did not take away my voice.

If anything, it gave me one.

In eighth grade, I received a cochlear implant. It didn’t magically fix everything, but it gave me access, hope, and determination. I decided I would not let my disability define my limits. Instead, I would let it define my purpose.

I wrote a book called Cordelia and Me, sharing my journey so other kids would know they are not alone. I continued doing what I love... theater, singing, volunteering, and serving my community... because disability does not mean inability.

My platform is simple:

There is ability in every disability.

Some disabilities are visible. Many are not. You never know what someone beside you is carrying... hearing loss, heart disease, learning differences, anxiety, chronic illness, or grief. Invisible disabilities are still real. They still matter. And the people living with them deserve understanding, accommodations, and opportunity.

That belief is why I’ve dedicated my time to advocacy.

I volunteer with Lowcountry Orphan Relief, and separately, I love reading to students in local schools because representation and kindness matter at every age. I’ve also volunteered at the Ronald McDonald House and even hosted a pageant for deaf and hard-of-hearing children so they could experience the spotlight and confidence they deserve.

I’ve met with the teams of Lindsey Graham and Tim Scott, and personally with Congresswoman Nancy Mace to advocate for an education bill that would guarantee automatic accommodations for students with single-sided deafness or deafness, known as SSDD.

Right now, students like me have to fight repeatedly to get the accommodations they need for SATs, ACTs, AP exams, and other tests, even with medical documentation. I had to go through three rounds just to get my SAT accommodations approved. Once I did, my score improved dramatically... not because I suddenly became smarter, but because I finally had a fair chance.

This bill would make accommodations automatic when students qualify due to SSDD, so no one has to struggle, explain, or fight for fairness. It’s about equity. It’s about justice.

Being a pageant titleholder has given me a microphone, but advocacy gives me a mission.

I sing the national anthem at community events, and every time I sing, I remember that even though I cannot hear the way I once did, I can still share my voice.

I also serve as a Teen of Impact for the American Heart Association because heart disease has affected my own family. My grandfather’s life was saved by his Apple Watch detecting a serious heart issue... a reminder that technology, awareness, and advocacy can truly save lives.

All of these experiences have taught me something powerful:

After every storm, there is a rainbow.

But sometimes, we have to be the ones who help create it for someone else.

Disability advocacy is about building a world where differences are not barriers, but strengths. A world where accommodations are not questioned, inclusion is not optional, and kindness is not rare.

A world where every person knows they belong.

My dream is to study history and political science so I can continue advocating for policies that change lives. Because laws shape access, access shapes opportunity, and opportunity shapes futures.

Today, standing here with all of you, I feel hopeful.

Hopeful because advocacy days like this remind us that change happens when voices come together.

Nothing about us without us.

My name is Kallyn Long.

I am deaf in one ear.

I am strong in my voice.

And I will spend my life making sure others are heard too.

Thank you.