The required reading for my second ASL class at the Salt Lake Community College is When the Mind Hears: A History of the Deaf by Harlan Lane. The first chapter is the story of Laurent Clerc’s early childhood. His parents, after discovering he is deaf and not knowing what to do with him, send him off to an institution for the deaf. It is here where he gains an education by learning to read, write, and sign in French.
This method of teaching by using sign language and written words would have been sufficient for him. After all he was deaf. But the popular belief of the day was that the Deaf needed to learn how to talk. So he spent time after school with the abbe’ Margaron for articulation lessons. He learned how to make the sounds for the letters of the alphabet and many short words, but he had great difficulty with knowing the difference between da and ta, de and te, do and to, etc. Clerc goes into heart-wrenching detail about how the abbe’ tried to get him to make those sounds, even down to the smell of his breath.
“Taaa, daaa, teee, deee,” he made me screech again and again, but contort my face as I would, fighting back the tears, search as I would desperately, in a panic, for the place in my mouth accurately to put my tongue, convulse as I would my breathing—I succeeded no better. One day he became so impatient he gave me a violent blow on the chin.”
All of the bitterness he had experienced previously in his life came down upon him at that moment. “I turned my back on them and walked away, toward my new family. I have never spoken again.”
Thursday, Aug. 21, 2008 – I am in my second ASL class at the Salt Lake Community College. As it is still early before class begins, there is me, one other student, and the instructor. We sit in the classroom and wait for the other students to arrive. I start signing to our teacher. He tells us (in sign of course) that he taught ASL in church, but not in a college setting. We are his first class and he is excited.
As with my first ASL class, our teacher is Deaf and there is a “no talking allowed” policy from the time each class period begins until we are dismissed. We are not even suppose to talk in the hall if we are preparing a project. I like that policy. As difficult as it is, it’s easier to learn ASL if no one talks.
This first class period is mostly to introduce the syllabus and to get to know each other by name and face. As the class progresses and our teacher gives instructions in sign, it becomes apparent that some students must have barely passed the first class. He asks us if we have any questions and makes the sign for “question”.
One student does not understand the sign, or so it seems that she does not understand it. Upon later reflection I think that maybe she did not understand the entire sentence. Or perhaps she had become lost in the previous discussion. Our teacher sees that she does not understand him, so he fingerspells Q-U-E-S-T-I-O-N. Her face is looking lost, so he fingerspells it again more slowly. He does this three more times, each time fingerspelling more slowly. She is still not getting it, so he signs “Q”. She is not getting that, so he requests that someone tell her what that letter is. Finally, he writes the word “question” on a piece of paper. Now she gets it.
Several students roll their eyes and chuckle. But our wonderful teacher never bats an eye or makes a sound. He is infinitely patient with her.
Would Clerc have learned how to talk if his teacher had shown patience as our ASL instructor had demonstrated to the student in my class? I don’t know. Perhaps if he had, he would later on in his life decide that talking only benefits those who hear and do not know how to sign. It may not serve him and in fact be problematic for him.
Will the student in my class decide that learning ASL is not for her because a few students rolled their eyes and chuckled, or will she return because her teacher is remarkably patient and kind, and knows how important it is to teach a willing student how to sign? I will find out on Tuesday. I predict she will return.
Filed under: Sign Language
