aud’acious

One night in the Salt Palace convention center in down town Salt Lake City I interpreted for a business conference for its constituents from across the United States. In the center’s largest room filled with approximately 7,000 people I asked an usher where they wanted the Sign Language interpreter. She pointed to a raised platform next to the stage. My co-interpreter and I took our places, the lights dimmed, and a blinding spotlight blasted our platform with light. Gulp. I could have been the MC for the Miss America pageant from where I sat.

Getting used to the spotlight wasn’t the only adventure of that three day conference. Three Deaf constantly chided me for not being more aggressive in promoting equal accessibility like their interpreters at home in Chicago do; a team interpreter of mine was asked not to return; and I turned beat red interpreting an Olympic ice skating gold medalist telling jokes about his bout with testicular cancer—to everyone’s delight.

Sign Language interpreting is a liberal profession. It grows out of the ideology that deaf people don’t need to hear. Deaf (capitalized to reflect a distinct group) are part of a minority community with a separate culture and language built predominately around sight. Sign language interpreters are welcomed at the fringes of the community serving as a resource to communicate with the majority hearing culture. This pride in deafness is in direct opposition to the conventional idea that deafness is a disability, thereby attracting the more liberal-minded to the profession.

Interpreting for the deaf is unique compared to any other language interpreting (with which I have also had experience). Deaf come from every ethic, racial, and economic background; have various degrees of education; and live all over the country. Outside of their community, Deaf use interpreters for almost everything. The Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) requires by law that if a deaf person shows up to any public office or service, an interpreter must be provided. A typical job could be at an African-American awareness program where they discuss discrimination they face at work. Many jobs are in minority-dominated low-income elementary, middle, and high schools as well as richer high schools. I’ve been to machinist shops, publishing warehouses, post office sorting rooms, as well as to the Pentagon to interpret for Secretary of State Donald Rumsfield, Salt Lake’s symphony hall to interpret for Kurt Bestor and Utah governor Orlene Walker and so many others. An interpreter gets to know a city’s depth and breadth in people as well as many of its streets. The experience is rich if not a little dangerous trying to find new addresses while driving every day.

The strangeness of me as a Sign Language interpreter is that the socio-economic group of people I come from is what some in the Deaf community see as their traditional adversary. I am an educated-white-religious-hearing-girl who started learning sign at thirteen not only because it fascinated her but also because she wanted to talk about boys to her friend in a secret language. I try not to tell either the Deaf community or fellow interpreters a lot about me until I feel they know me a bit better as a person. Even with my caution, I still haven’t completely escaped verbal persecution from both Deaf clients and co-interpreters for my religious beliefs and insensitivity to minority groups. These attacks primarily happened in DC, though. I am happy to say it hasn’t been as bad in Las Vegas and Salt Lake.

The last challenge I face is overcoming my shyness. As a little girl I dreaded talking to people. As a teenager I prayed to overcome my reserve. As an adult I love talking and getting to know people but it still takes a lot of time for me to feel comfortable. When you meet new people every day, there is no time for shyness yet I struggled as I began working in DC. People thought I was nice but proud. I was concerned that my boss would fire me because I couldn’t open up more. I am learning how to throw up an exterior of sociableness to survive.