The American Sign Language interpreting profession has a lot of catching up to do to bring it on par with foreign language interpreting international conference interpreting. I would venture to say that most ASL interpreters are working not only from but also to their “C language.” You have to understand that until the ’60s and ’70s, there was no ASL interpreting profession, and those who interpreted for the deaf were usually family, friends, or neighbors. Deaf people counted themselves lucky to get anyone to interpret for them— free of charge, no less! Unfortunately, here we are in the 2010s and deaf people still find themselves lucky to get an interpreter to provide the service even for pay.

There is a shortage of interpreters to fulfill the demand for “qualified interpreters” required by the Americans with Disabilities Act. There are very few native hearing signers. Even those with deaf parents do not all learn the language fluently; in fact, it has been seen that one child may learn ASL fluently and the other siblings will rely on that child to interpret between them and their parents. And then, even the CODAs (children of deaf adults) who are fluent in ASL are not always as fluent in all registers of the language that they would need to be to call ASL their A language. What’s more, CODAs often have English as a B language because it is their second language. (Babies are developmentally able to learn signed languages at a younger age than spoken languages, so for many CODAs, sign language is their native language.)

To make matters worse, CODAs account for a small percentage of ASL interpreters. Most interpreters don’t learn ASL until college or high school at the earliest. I will speak for myself: I started learning ASL when I was 21. I have been interpreting for 21 years. Most people are very happy with my interpreting services, but I by no means possess native-like fluency in ASL! I always have to work on my fluency, and I honestly don’t know if my ASL will ever be even good enough to even call it my “B language.” And, if I may venture to say so, I am by no means alone in this.

In my defense—and so as not to be so hard on my colleagues—the ASL interpreting profession is still nascent. For decades, one didn’t even have to have a high school diploma to be an ASL-English interpreter. Only a few years ago did an associate degree become a prerequisite to stand for national certification exams. All of the already certified interpreters were “grandfathered” in. As of June 2012, candidates will have to have bachelor’s degrees to sit for the national exams—and their degrees don’t even have to be in interpreting. We still have a situation in which both entrants and graduates of interpreter training programs do not possess the fluency in ASL required to be an interpreter. Things are getting better, but we have much work to do.

Consider, finally, one last thing about sign language interpreting in America: most deaf people are non-native users of ASL. Many deaf children have limited, if any, exposure to spoken, written, or signed language until elementary school! I have heard the expression “semilingual” to describe deaf people who are native in neither ASL nor English. According to your terminology, the word would be “alingual.” I think that is too strong a word, and one that Deaf people would take umbrage to because the Hearing world tells them that if they don’t have English, they don’t have “language.” Deaf people are very proud of their sign language, even the 90% of them who did not learn it from birth (only 10% of deaf people are born to deaf parents). And many deaf people who are not “native” in ASL still have what would be considered to be “native-like” fluency— better than what I and many other hearing sign language interpreters possess. All in all, though, a fair number of the deaf people we interpret for do not sign more fluently than us C language hearing people do. Deaf education and ASL interpreter education both have a long way to go. I do honor our consumers and my colleagues for doing the best that can be done given the circumstances, and I look forward to the better future we are working toward.

The deaf speaker, presenting to an audience of people who knew ASL pretty well but not fluently, fingerspelled a number I wasn’t entirely sure of. I thought I got it, but wasn’t 100% confident in my perception. I didn’t have a team interpreter to support me in voicing. Someone in the audience said the thing I wasn’t sure of, and it turned out I was right. Yet, after they did that bit of work for me, I asked the presenter to reiterate the lexical item. I was doing consecutive interpreting, and while I was watching the deaf signer, yet another audience member said the thing I wasn’t sure of. I said, “Just a moment. I’m getting this.” And then I said the thing we all thought the deaf person said, only this time I was sure of my interpretation. The dialogue between me and the audience members was quiet, and it didn’t seem to be a big deal for anyone, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it after the assignment.

Why did I do what I did? Was it the most appropriate and effective behavior? What could I have done differently? Why didn’t I just let it go when the audience member guessed rightly? And, even if they had guessed wrongly, would it have mattered? These are the questions that nagged me this morning.

I think I did what I did for several reasons I’m not necessarily proud of.

1. I didn’t trust myself.
2. I overestimated the importance of the little thing I missed.
3. I wanted to control my work.
4. I didn’t want to set an unfavorable precedent.

Notice I said, “not necessarily proud of.” That is not to say that it’s never okay to do these things. It is just to say that, in this case, I don’t think any of those “intrapersonal demands” in Demand-Control Schema (Karasek, 1979; Karasek & Theorell, 1990; Dean & Pollard, 2001) were well founded. First of all, I need to get better at trusting myself when I’m 90% sure I’m right; second, I need to get better at realizing when something’s just not that important; third, control is an illusion (or so they say); fourth, and the point of this post, is what is so wrong with letting consumers doing our work for us once in a while?

Could two different members of the audience both be wrong about something I’m 90% sure I’m right about? Unlikely. As far as precedent is concerned, there may be times we want our consumers to let us do our job because we are the interpreter in the room; they are not. It is sometimes not a good thing to have more than one person interpreting at once. And it is not a good thing if the “peanut gallery” gets the interpretation wrong. But we have to look at each case individually and not be rigid. In this case, I don’t think it would have done any harm at all to allow what happened to happen and let it go. It would have modeled good interpreter behavior, acknowledged them for their linguistic ability, and let the speaker go on unimpeded. If I had it to do over, my “control” in Demand-Control Schema would be either to say nothing or say something funny like, “what she said!” Next time, next time…

Incidentally, after I analyzed this interpreting scenario this morning, I read this today in a book by one of the world’s foremost experts on interpreting:

It should be noted that in interpreting, unlike translation, all parties concerned are aware of the communication situation, including possible difficulties associated with the interlingual and sometimes intercultural transfer. Since generally all parties wish to communicate, more cooperation can be expected from them than in translation…. Cooperation may also be forthcoming from listeners, especially in consecutive, where they can help the interpreter with word equivalents and generally listen sympathetically, though this is not always the case. In other words, although the interpreter essentially works alone, he or she may be helped through on-line interaction with both Sender and Receiver, while in translation such interaction is rather rare (Gile, 1995, emphasis mine).

It was so great to read something this afternoon that reinforces the reflections I had this morning! We interpreters should always strive to do our best. One way we can do our best is to be humble enough to let our consumers do our work for us sometimes.

Resources

Dean, R. K. & Pollard, R. Q (2001). The application of demand-control theory to sign language interpreting: Implications for stress and interpreter training. Journal of Deaf Studies and Deaf Education 6 (1), 1-14.

Gile, D. (1995). Basic concepts and models for interpreter and translator training (p.24). Philadelphia: John Benjamins.

The gist of my comments, for those who don’t know American Sign Language, is that we should trust the validity of the NIC (National Interpreter Certification) and the RID (Registry of Interpreters for the Deaf). This unfortunate incident of one individual’s corrupt behavior does not invalidate test scores any but 3% of test takers during the time in question; those candidates have already been notified and will have to retest. RID conducted the examination into this matter professionally in every way, and though I was frustrated myself while waiting for my test results for a long time, I now applaud RID for following a stringent protocol and maintaining secrecy about the situation until the investigation was complete. Please, consumers of interpreting services, continue to trust RID. It is a trustworthy organization. And please, fellow interpreters, do not doubt your scores. If you passed at the level you wanted, there is no need to retest. If you failed, you failed. Many of us fail tests the first time. Believe the results, learn what you need to learn to pass the test, and retake it. That’s what I did, and it worked. Again, this is a sad situation, but it has been handled. Let’s not let this get us down. We are good and RID is good. I am proud of us.

[P.S. I forgot to include a link to the source announcement. I don't want to post a link to the RID media page, because that link is constantly changing, so I will refer you to RID Addresses Invalid Rater Scores on National Interpreter Certification Exam — FAQs.]

The original poster started a very interesting discussion about using language that might be misunderstood by children, and I am reposting my comment because I would like to share my viewpoint with my readers.

I wrote:

I can appreciate your concern for your students, (e, but I agree with MM. Although some ways of communicating may be confusing, I believe they should be taught rather than avoided. Each instance of misunderstood sarcasm can be a teaching moment for a second language learner. Sarcasm and other elements of second language, which English is for most deaf and hard-of-hearing people, have to be explicitly taught.

I sometimes have to reverse myself when I begin to — forgive the expression — “dumb down” my writing with deaf people. With certain people, things must be greatly simplified, but with many people I think one should be oneself and let the person figure it out. Most deaf people certainly don’t dumb down their ASL for me or slow down their signing for me. I am an interpreter, and they just expect me to understand them and interpret what they are saying. I learn new bits of visual language all the time because of deaf people’s being themselves and signing naturally. Don’t I owe them the same genuineness of myself? Perhaps the more I write English or — with the appropriate person — sign English or fingerspell unusual turns of phrase, the more I express who I am and give them the opportunity to learn how a hearing person speaks and writes.

It’s not that my place is to teach; it’s just that everyone–hearing and deaf alike–can learn more about each other and each other’s language when we speak naturally. I thank every French-speaking, Spanish-speaking, and ASL-speaking person who has ever spoken to me in their natural way, because that is how I have learned their languages.

… the deaf community (and by that I mean, the deaf, not the interpreters, etc because I believe its ridiculous that a party who benefits heavily from the community be considered a part of it)…

First, let’s dispense with the fallacy that a party who benefits heavily from a community should not be considered a part of it. The butcher, the baker, and the candlestick maker are members of their community even though they prosper by selling their wares to other community members. A Rabbi is a member of her Jewish community even though she benefits from their synagogue dues. But the interpreter requestor has a point: why are people who are not deaf considered a part of a community of those who are?

The short answer is that hearing people are members of the deaf community when deaf people say they are. We interpreters do not presume to be members of the deaf community, but deaf people invite us to be, and we are proud to be. The butcher, the baker, and the candlestick maker are not members of the bovine, flour, or iron communities because inanimate materials do not form communities as people do. Deaf people, on the other hand, are people, and their language is inseparable from them. An interpreter must, therefore, enter the deaf community in order to possess an intimate knowledge of their language and culture; otherwise, they cannot be bilingual. And more important, they will not be trusted by deaf people who rightly view hearing people as potential threats to their way of life.

When I went to the Conference of Interpreter Trainers in San Antonio last October, I attended two presentations that spoke to the issues of interpreter identity and community membership, by Robert G. Lee and Arlene Gunderson, respectively. Allow me to share some insights I gleaned from them.

Lee, in his presentation “Across the Pond But on Familiar Turf: Sign Language Interpreters and the Nature of Identity,” emphasized that our identity as interpreters is granted to us by deaf people. Also the interpreter identity is a lasting one that persists even while we’re not interpreting or even, in Lee’s case, if we’re in a deaf community abroad. Lee shared three powerful statements by Richard Jenkins about identity: “Individual identity – embodied in selfhood – is not meaningful in isolation from the social world of other people” (Jenkins, p. 20), “…what people think about us is no less important than what we think about ourselves…” (Jenkins, p. 20), and “Social Identity is never unilateral” (Jenkins, p. 21). [Lee's Reference: Jenkins, R. (1996) Social Identity. London, Routledge.] In other words, it is deaf people who say whether or not interpreters are members of the deaf community. I don’t brag that I’m a member of the deaf community, but I gladly accept the membership deaf people give me and I accept the responsibility of the interpreter identity.

Gunderson, in her presentation “Understanding & Teaching Avenues & Membership into the Deaf Community – Past & Present,” stressed the importance of ensuring that all interpreters have a strong understanding of both cultural and medical views of deafness both past & present. She talked about the Four Avenues to Membership in the Deaf Community— audiological, political, linguistic, and social. This model was constructed by Dennis Cokely and Charlotte Baker–Shenk in American Sign Language: a teacher’s resource text on curriculum, methods…. Deaf members of the deaf community may grant hearing people membership as long as those hearing people have the right attitude. Obviously, audiological is not an avenue for hearing membership into the deaf community, but political, linguistic, and social are. Also, Carol Padden wrote in 1980 that “a deaf community may include people who are not themselves deaf but actively support the goals of the community, and work with deaf people to achieve them” (Padden, C. in Gregory, S., Deconstructing Deafness). Interpreters do actively support the goals of the deaf community and work with deaf people to achieve them. Interpreters do have political, linguistic, and social avenues to the deaf community. That is why deaf people consider interpreters to be members of the deaf community.

Frankly, I’m amazed that in 2011, the best we have to offer the deaf is ASL interpreters. With all that technology has to offer, I’d be upset we didn’t have better systems than one that relies on expensive human interaction.

Far be it from human interaction to take the place of all that technology has to offer! Seriously, though, this statement is also addressed by language and community. For many deaf people, sign language is the best form of communication the world has to offer. The visual–gestural mode of communication suits their abilities, and sign language is much more than a mode; it is a language, and entwined in every language—be it ASL, French, or Swahili—is culture. History. Identity. Deaf people give us sign language so that we can give it back to them. It is what they want. Of course there are deaf people who prefer realtime captioning, but that is just as expensive as interpreting. Anyone who thinks technology trumps human interaction should never have anything to do with a conference, since a conference is all about human interaction.

And, yes, human interaction is expensive. Not to brag, but to demonstrate the commitment to professional growth that I and other professional interpreters have, it was very expensive for me to attend the Conference of Interpreter Trainers. Registration was about $400 for four days, and four nights’ stay at the St. Anthony Hotel was about the same (half of what it cost to stay at the conference hotel, the Omni La Mansion del Rio). In addition to this $800, there was the airfare of about $300. Add to that a week’s worth of lost wages, and you get a grand total of about $2500. If an interpreter is willing to spend that much time and money on human interaction for the sake of professional development—that is, to be a better servant to the deaf community—then perhaps conference organizers and others who request our services should respect what we are worth.

[Comparing deaf people to other groups is an] unfair comparison to other special rights groups. Those groups, say, based on color or religion or sexual preference are asking for equal rights, not special rights. That’s not what [the deaf attendees] were asking for.

Oh. I must have heard wrong when people were saying that gays were demanding special rights. Hm. Ahem… Be that as it may, even if deaf people are asking for special rights, that doesn’t make them wrong. Hearing people don’t need to demand special rights (because they already have them). For deaf people, access to communication in the hearing world is a special right— a right granted them by the American people when our government passed the ADA— and given them by generous people even when the ADA doesn’t require them to.

If anyone reading this blog post thinks it is an inadequate representation of the issues, that’s because it is. Interpreters spend years learning the medical and cultural views of deafness, the intricacies of sign language, and new trends in the deaf world and the profession of interpreting. I have been interpreting for over twenty years and I am still learning. There are many times I feel inadequate, and sometimes, for certain assignments, I am. Any professional interpreter will admit the same. We interpreters who are certified by the Registry of Interpreters for the Deaf (RID) know that we are never done learning. We complete 80 hours of continual education every four years. Our field is constantly changing as the language and culture of deaf people is ever changing. Many articles, dissertations, and books have been written on sign language, deaf culture, and interpreting. I cannot hope to comprise it all here.

If I still feel I have so much to learn this many years into my career, I can only imagine how baffling it must be for hearing requestors of sign language interpreting services for the deaf. I am happy to do what I can to educate people. I only ask that they admit how little they know.

Are you a hearing requestor of sign language interpreting services who has learned things about deaf people and interpreters that you never knew you didn’t know? Are you a deaf person or an interpreter who has learned that there are things you never knew hearing people didn’t know? I would love to hear from people who have had positive experiences working with deaf people and interpreters to provide equal access.

I took this exam even though I was already RID-certified in 1998 and 1999, respectively, with the CI (Certificate of Interpretation) and CT (Certificate of Transliteration). The reason I took it was to stay current with my profession and show the interpreters I train and students I teach that I have mastered the test they hope to pass or advance in.

Studying for the interview portion of this exam got me more familiar than ever with the NAD–RID Code of Professional Conduct (CPC). This helped me become a more ethically minded interpreter who can think through dilemmas, see the perspectives of all the stakeholders, enact solutions, and foresee the short– and long–term effects of my actions. If for nothing else, I am glad I took the exam the professional development aspect.

I am grateful to Michelle Monahan, NIC Master, for her Mastering the Interview Portion of the NIC Exam workshop and to Windy Kellems, NIC Master, for being my study buddy as we practiced together to articulate answers to ethical dilemmas. You were both a great help, Michelle and Windy!

—Daniel Greene, BA, CI and CT, NIC Master

I first spoke with Amanda, the conference organizer, on Thursday afternoon, January 14, and offered to interpret and coordinate. She told me the budget was $2,000 for a four–track conference which would need a maximum of eight interpreters. I figured I could get four professional interpreters to earn $50 an hour, get four students to volunteer their services pro bono, and that would still leave $400, half of which might go toward compensating me for coordinating services, and half of which might go toward gift cards for students.

That same night, I found out that Amanda had un–registered a deaf registrant because she didn’t like her attitude. I advocated for the ousted registrant, emailing Amanda, “Deaf people routinely face discrimination and have to fight for their rights. In light of this, I find the registrant’s demands assertive rather than aggressive.” I even followed this up another day and asked Amanda if she would please consider reinstating her. Amanda was immovable.

I should mention that the first deaf registrant had approached me around Thanksgiving about interpreting for WordCamp. I had said I would be interested and asked him to send me more information, but the holidays came and went before I saw an announcement from Amanda on the Arizona RID Yahoo Group. I knew how important it was for this deaf person to attend WordCamp, so I decided to provide for him even though I was not happy with Amanda’s handling of the other deaf registrant.

By the end of the week, I had offers from two other professionals and at least four other students. At this point, all I needed was one more professional if (and that’s a big “if”) there were deaf attendees in all four tracks on Saturday.

In the meantime, I wondered whether there were any deaf attendees registered for Friday. Amanda had not told me it was overbooked, only that she didn’t have the budget for it. I figured if we didn’t need eight interpreters on Saturday, we could provide services on Friday as well. On Friday the 14th, I emailed the attendee I knew was going Saturday and asked him if he were going Friday. Note that I didn’t “offer” to interpret Friday; I merely asked him if he had registered. I heard back from the Tuesday after the MLK weekend, and he verified that he had registered for Friday and Saturday both. He knew that interpreting services had not been promised for Friday, and I did not promise them.

Later that morning, I told Amanda that she did indeed have a deaf person registered for Friday, and I proposed that we leverage the budget designed to employ four professionals and four students for one day and instead employ two professionals for two days. Two pros working for $50 an hour for eight hours on Friday and nine hours on Saturday would cost $1700. I could take an honorarium of $200 for coordinating and still come in at $100 under budget.

At the very mention of providing interpreting services on Friday, however, Amanda blamed me for encouraging the deaf attendee to register for Friday and then accused me of promising him interpreting services. I assured her that I had promised nothing, and for all I knew he had registered long before I asked him if he were going (later he confirmed that he had registered for Friday way back around Thanksgiving). She told me the room was too small, was overbooked, and there would be no room for interpreters.

What’s more, she told me she was considering un–registering the deaf attendee for Friday because she would not be able to provide him with interpreters. I told her that we interpreters often fit into cramped spaces, that one of us could stand while interpreting, and the other could sit on the floor. I reasoned with her that it would be a shame to tell a deaf person he couldn’t attend a conference because there wasn’t enough room for his interpreters. She relented. She adamantly refused to let me work with another professional, but she would allow me to provide services on Friday as long as I worked with a student both Friday and Saturday. I relented. Such is the nature of negotiation and compromise.

Yet I was not satisfied, and it wasn’t about the money. I was unsatisfied with giving the client less than the best. This sort of “highly technical” conference is best suited to seasoned interpreters, so I didn’t want to use a student volunteer if I didn’t have to. We weren’t talking about an eight-interpreter deal anymore. We were talking about two interpreters working work two days. I had agreed with Amanda that I would provide all this for a total of $1050, so I was in a quandary: do I earn a normal wage and work with a student or do I see if I could get a pro to split the money with me so that we both made only about $30 per hour? I negotiated with one of the pros who had offered to work on the conference. We were each certified, licensed, experienced interpreters who had worked many “highly technical” events before. We were, if I may say so myself, a “dream team” for WordCamp. I offered to sacrifice my coordinator fee to supplement the two of us to work for 60% of our normal rate. I gave up a job Friday morning and s/he gave up a job Saturday afternoon so we could provide continuous coverage all day on both days. We were in it for the service to the deaf consumer, not for the money. I thought we had arrived at a great solution.

Then I read Amanda’s blog post.

This is what I wrote to her:

I am more interested in providing the *most* service and the *best* service to the deaf attendees than I am in making money. The way I saw it, if you could afford to give less than the best for one day, you could afford to give the best for two days. If I had “taken direction,” I would have made $650 in one day, the deaf attendees would have gotten less than the best, and they would have gotten no service on Friday. Since I advocated for *more* and *better*, I am earning only $525 for two days, the deaf get the best, and they get Friday as well as Saturday.

Call me greedy.

I thought over what a mess this had become. How uncomfortable I had felt ever since finding out that Amanda had un–registered a deaf attendee because she didn’t like her attitude. How Amanda had almost un–registered another deaf attendee because the room was too small. And, finally, how she had let loose upon the world this gross misrepresentation of what actually happened. I talked it over with colleagues. I slept on it. I discussed it with my team interpreter. We decided it would be best to remove ourselves before things got any worse.

Please, hearing readers, do not let Amanda dissuade you from providing interpreting services to the deaf. It doesn’t have to be this hard. And please, deaf readers, consider both sides of the story before you lay the blame on interpreters. (I only wrote that because ridor9th was the first commenter on Amanda’s blog post, and he said, “It is not your fault, the interpreters in Phoenix are to blame. Lately they are intimidating Deaf ppl all over Phoenix on many things” (I have no idea why he said what he said about interpreters in Phoenix, but I was hoping that other deaf people would not blame interpreters without at least hearing my side of the story first). There’s a lot we can all learn from this and still respect each other.

I would hate for the takeaway message from any blog post to be, “Don’t provide interpreters to the deaf if you can possibly avoid it.”

Edmund Berke once said, “Those who don’t know history are destined to repeat it.” Take a look at John Pozadzides’ 2009 blog post “An Open-Source Look at the Cost of WordCamp Dallas” and the comments that ensue when someone suggests “If you cut out the T-shirts and interpreters, you would break even.” You will learn a lot about complying with the ADA and providing accessibility to a public event.

I hope these two bits of history will help people make future events better for all.

Edited January 22, 2011 for clarity.

Since so many people responded on my blog to the first video about this topic, “Re Oralism vs Speaking” that I embedded in a blog post, I have been responding and thinking about this issue. One thing that stands out for me is the meaning of the suffices -ism and -ist. These can simply mean “system” or “practitioner” but they also have loaded connotations of strong belief systems and prejudices– and the people who espouse such attitudes and prejudices.

My view is that there is nothing wrong with any mode of communication, be it ASL, signed English, or speaking and speechreading. Although I realize that “oralism” is a hot-button issue with many deaf people for whom it carries heavy emotional associations, I believe that if all of that emotional baggage is put aside, it can be seen that speaking and speechreading are simply ways of communicating. (To quote from William Shakespeare’s Hamlet, “…there is nothing either good or bad but thinking makes it so.”)

Far be it from me to tell oral deaf what to call themselves, but my opinion of the word “oralist” is that I would avoid it because it may carry the connotation of being a strong proponent of the oral method and being a prejudiced opponent of signing. As an interpreter, transliterator, and oral transliterator, I consider myself neither a manualist nor an oralist; I am just a person doing a job and providing the services that various deaf clients request.

If hard pressed to say what I think about speech training for children, I would have to say that, having listened to the gamut of teaching philosophies that various deaf educators espouse, I support the teaching of fully grammatical ASL first, and then English and speech second. ASL is the foundation, the native language, the “first” language; then comes English, the second language.

I know that the Code of Ethics (or Code of Professional Conduct, as it is called now) says that interpreters should “Refrain from providing counsel, advice, or personal opinions,” but that goes for interpreters while they are on the job. Interpreters off the job are people with opinions. I am expressing my opinion as someone who has studied ASL, Deaf culture, interpreting, transliterating, and oral transliterating for over 21 years and has been around many different deaf people. These are my views as an English major and word lover who analyzes words for all their meanings, both denotative and connotative.

Thanks for watching, and have a good day.

Related posts on danielgreene.com: Re Oralism vs Speaking