Cherish Deaf History
Hi. See this shirt? It says, History Should Make you uncomfortable. Today is Cherish Deaf history day, observed by the World Federation of the Deaf for International Week of Deaf People.
I want to take advantage of that to talk about a couple of things that happened in the last few weeks that highlights why we should cherish deaf history.
First up, one deaf person, Caitlin McDermott, tweeted that she was unable to participate in her university’s ASL club because they could not afford interpreters.
That’s since then been happily resolved. But that raised some underlying questions.
Can we teach signed languages divorced from histories, cultures, and humanities? When situations like McDermott’s happen, the value of a critical Deaf Studies lens and grounding in the deaf humanities becomes apparent.
There was also another incident recently. I can’t recall the name of the individual who tweeted that, and really, there’s so many of that particular kind of tweet. It’s rather common so, anyway, someone tweeted that they wished that ASL would be offered in schools (and variants often include I wish I’d learned ASL in school). And this comment really irritates deaf people. For one, the conversation centers hearing people’s feelings and wishes while ignoring the painful reality of the ongoing tension in deaf education over whether or not deaf children should have access to language. At all. There’s a lot of violence and trauma in the history of signed languages. There’s nothing stopping you from learning sign language now. Go ahead. We invite you to learn. One person, Ebony Gooden, captured the essence of the problem in one tweet.
[Could not have said it better, really!]
Teaching/learning sign really isn’t enough. Dirksen Bauman, Deaf Studies scholar, wrote a number of years ago, around 2003(actually, 2004), that the popularity of ASL would be a good opportunity to address audism. I add also language attitudes, linguicism, ableism more broadly. That was a really optimistic outlook [that required we think of language as something grounded in the humanities. Which is how most languages are taught.] For more on this point, read my 2018 essay with co-author, Jon Henner.
But in the last 20 years, that is not what we’ve seen happen. We still have many frustrations with access, language attitudes, cavalier attitudes about the value of sign language classes because they’ve forgotten signing so what’s the point…, linguistic appropriation for popularity and social media clicks, to sell poorly made dirty signs books. Things like that keep happening. I believe that’s because we don’t do well enough of a job in grounding teaching ASL in the humanities. The absence of humanities infused in sign language classes contributes to the ongoing oppression of deaf people’s linguistic human rights. The classes don’t end with hearing students fully appreciating or understanding the role they play in deaf lives.
We cannot continue to teach signed languages without valuing the humanities. And on this point, I don’t mean the kumbaya versions where all Deaf people are the Same and have achieved some sort of utopia. Nor the kind that celebrates Great Deaf People- the rare successful scientist, artist, performers. They’re usually considered successes because they fit into hearing and capitalist expectations; this allows us to perpetuate overcoming narratives without looking at the reality of everyday lives of ordinary deaf people. I also do not mean histories that insist that deaf people are not disabled and thus ignore the ways that structural ableism and audism are structured and upheld by individuals. Good histories reach beyond identitarian politics and transmission of mythologies. That kind of teaching, ahistorical and uncritical, is irresponsible.
We must teach students signed languages in relationship to language death, attitudes, beliefs, ideologies, oppression, community-making and world-making, and as linguistic minorities in terms of how systems interact with deaf and disabled bodies.
Teaching signed languages without the humanities treats signed language like a mere technical tool, separated from the ways that people use language. There’s a big difference.
Circling back to the McDermott story earlier. Teaching students signed languages means also teaching them that they have an ethical responsibility. Both to the language and to the people that use them. We must make that connection for them. Then, I think, students will do the right thing. Both when they’re in school and throughout life. They may forget how to sign one day, but they are more likely to remember their role as disruptors or upholders of systemic audism/ableism when a deaf person comes into their business, their law office, their medical practice, their courtroom, their adoption agency, their real estate office. I’d like to recommend a couple of history books to kickstart your reading in terms of their relevance to teaching SL as the humanities. Jaipreet Virdi’s Hearing Happiness, on the history of cures for deaf bodies and R.A.R. Edwards’ Words Made Flesh on forcing hearingness into deaf bodies.
