Friendly Hands

Every year I am required to attend 20 hours worth of interpreting workshops to maintain my certification. Last night a workshop was offered for FREE, and being the penny-pinching, thrift-loving money-miser that I am, I could not resist.

Apparently, no one else could either.

Aside from the fact that it was an interesting and informative class, it was like a reunion of sorts. (Almost) EVERYONE was there!


I'm not sure which I enjoyed more, the workshop itself or the visiting with everyone before and after.

Okay, who am I kidding? The visiting wins.

I am SO thankful for my awesome interpreter friends!

Longing For Home

(That's me at my dad's knee. They called me the milkman's daughter.)

I watched parts of the movie Tarzan with my littlest kids today. I didn't intend to but I found myself strangely entranced. (I need to get out more, I know.) I wasn't sure what it was about the movie that caught my attention and had me transfixed until it came to the segment where the background music is the song "Strangers Like Me" by Phil Collins. That was when I realized what was so fascinating about it all: I am Tarzan, someone who is stuck between two worlds.

Most of you who read here know that I come from a family where both parents were Deaf. I was raised in what is known as 'Deaf culture', a whole separate world from the world of those who can hear. And I LOVED it. For me, this largely unknown Deaf world has always been the place where I feel most at home and this movie somehow got me feeling homesick again.

Words truly escape me when attempting to describe the love I have for the world of the Deaf. The people, the culture, the language... these are all ingrained in me. I embrace them and sometimes fear I will lose them completely. I never want that to happen - it would be like losing a part of my soul.

In my moments of greatest emotion the most frustrating thing remains to be the fact that I can not express myself in spoken words as well as I can in sign language. The difficult part is that the English language often does not translate the passion and depth of meaning behind the words in sign. This is why I love words. The more words I know, the more I have in my arsenal when trying to accurately express myself.

And the more I am able to integrate myself into this world of the hearing which still often feels like a new pair of shoes that are not quite broken in yet.

A Child's Prayer

In a prayer over breakfast (by Princess):


... And bless us to be safe. And good. And nice to everyone. And bless the food.

And bless that everyone in the world will not be constipated.


When her prayer was finished (and my laughter was stifled) I asked her if she knew what constipated meant.

"Yeah!" she said, "Remember when you showed me how to say it in sign language?"

Actually, no. I don't remember. I don't deny it, but I can not recall sitting down with my 6-year-old and showing her how to sign 'constipated'.

She then proceed to show me the various signs for different types of poop, thus confirming her story.

And so I stand corrected.

But hey, the good news is... no constipation for anyone today!

More Fun Than Should Be Allowed

Because I hold certification as an ASL Interpreter in my great state I am required to attend 60 hours worth of workshops every 3 years.

The workshops I attend are educational as well as enjoyable for the most part because I choose to make them so. However, the workshop I attended this weekend blows all of the others out of the water.

First of all, it was FREE. This, in itself, is a rare occurrence. Add to that the fact that my little brother was going to attend with me and you've got the recipe for a GREAT time. Add Amy, a friend I had not seen in over 5 years, and I was in.

It gets even better. This was a two-day workshop and overnight accommodations were provided in the dorms adjacent to the school. A workshop/slumber party? Awesome.

I packed a few items that would guarantee a good time:

1. Accordion
2. Roller skates
3. Sock puppets
4. Night-vision goggles

Because you never know when these things will come in handy.

When the Friday evening portion of the workshop was finished we headed to the dorms to plan our night. It was decided that the empty, mostly carpeted halls of the school would make for some great skating.

As I laced up my skates I was excitedly thinking, How many people can say they have roller skated through the halls of a school after hours? And then , disappointed, realized that there were maybe a few.

So then I thought, How many people can say they have roller skated through the halls of a school wearing night-vision goggles, after hours, while playing the accordion?

And I can now happily add to that thought: Me.

I'm thinking about calling The Guinness World Records people.
We made some new interpreter friends in the dorms who were happy to come watch as I made workshop history.

After a while I wondered how everyone could possibly be having as much fun as myself. I mean, sure, it's fun to watch people's dreams come true, but only to a point.

Luck was on our side. Down a side hall we found a cache of enormous tricycles and other ride-on equipment that just screamed: Ride us! Ride us! Take us for a spin! So we did.

Chip and Amy tearing it up!

We had races. We had chases. We had a blast.

We quickly discovered the location of the school's gymnasium as well. I was in roller skating heaven! My own rink. Does it get any better?
At one point a piano was uncovered and played by the talented Jame. This made for some great interpretive dances.

Once we had tired out we sat on the stage and had an impromptu talent show with the help of the school's sound equipment.

Chip has not lost the talent of drumming out the rhythms of a beat-box with his mouth. And when it comes to break dancing? He's still got the moves down. (Word.)

We found some props on the stage which led to even more entertainment.

A giant teeter-totter.

A realistic coffin. (It was fun to talk about the poses we could get in there but when it came down to it, no one dared. Too creepy.)

My favorite prop? The perfect stage for a puppet show.

The puppets, performing a scene from Phantom of the Opera.

Eventually we traveled back to the commons area of the dorms to chat, laugh, munch on some junk food, debate avuncular smiles and listen to the flatulent sounds of Chip's iFart. (Incidentally, iFart is HILARIOUS at 2 in the morning!)

One by one our friends headed off to catch a few hours of sleep before we'd be back in the classroom learning about cohesion in our interpreting message. Chip, Amy and I (the true diehards!) finally turned the lights out at 4 a.m.

At some point in this adventure we realized that the school has security cameras throughout the campus. I'll be honest... we hold on to the secret hope that we will find ourselves on YouTube.

But if not, we at least hope that security enjoyed our nocturnal hi jinks as much as we did.

Although I doubt that is possible.

New Shoes!

I ran into someone I had not seen in a long time the other day. "I wish I had new shoes on!" he lamented. I grinned. I had not thought about that in a while...

Long, long ago in a place not too far from here I used to work as an American Sign Language interpreter. Every morning I would go to an elementary school and enter the classroom of a teacher who did not appear to enjoy her job. My assignment was not to jazz up the teacher's lectures in order to keep the child I was interpreting for awake... although I often wished it was.

One day, something exciting happened. Miss Teacher came into the class with a twinkle in her eye and a poster in her hand.

"Do you know what happened yesterday, children?" she asked, smiling. They all shook their heads, wondering what had caused this transformation. "I bought new shoes!" she answered, shifting her feet at different angles to show off her new purchase. "And guess what happens when we get new shoes? We say the 'New Shoes' poem!"

She turned and hung the poster she carried in the front of the room. It was decorated with all sorts of shoes she had cut out from magazines and various advertisements, and in the middle was the poem, 'Choosing Shoes'.

And I fell in love. (With the poem, silly.)

Soon after this I changed jobs and interpreted at a state college. We often had meetings that were less-than-exciting... until one day when all that changed.

"Does anyone have anything to bring up?" the boss-lady asked as the meeting began. I looked around. Everyone was doodling on paper or otherwise trying to stay awake. And then I saw them... Boss-lady had on new shoes. I raised my hand.

"I notice you have on new shoes, boss-lady!" I pointed out with all the excitement I could muster. Everyone looked. She smiled. "Yes, I do. Thank you for noticing, Gerb. Anyone else?"

I raised my hand again. "Do you know what happens when someone is wearing new shoes?" I asked. And before she could answer I stood up and said, "They get the 'New Shoes' song!"

I immediately broke into an impromptu dance, reciting the poem in a sing-songy manner directed at boss-lady. I ended with a flourish and sat down to the applause of my co-workers.

"Thank you, Gerb," boss-lady said, laughing. "Anyone else have new shoes?"

I sang for 2 more people that day and for several others since. I noticed that people often happened to buy new shoes the week of our meetings... coincidence? I think not.

How about you - got new shoes? Well, go slip them on and enjoy...

Choosing Shoes
by Frida Wolfe

New shoes, new shoes,
Red and pink and blue shoes.
Tell me, what would you choose,
If they'd let us buy?

Buckle shoes, bow shoes,
Pretty pointy-toe shoes,
Strappy, cappy low shoes;
Let's have some to try.

Bright shoes, white shoes,
Dandy-dance-by-night shoes,
Perhaps-a-little-tight shoes,
Like some? So would I.

BUT
Flat shoes, fat shoes,
Stump-along-like-that shoes,
Wipe-them-on-the-mat shoes,
That's the sort they'll buy.

Duct Tape, I Love You

To The Person Who Came Up With This Genius Idea,

Thank you.

I wish I had come up with this myself! Of course, I assume it counts as defacing public property or something of that sort, so in that regard I am glad it was you and not me.

But seriously - thanks for putting a smile on my face.

This was just what I needed on Monday.

Sincerely,
Gerb

My 15 Minutes of Fame

Don't get too excited... it was only in my friend Rebecca's dream.

But still, I performed with Donny Osmond! How cool is that? He's like the Mormon Michael Jackson. Hey, dream or reality, I'll take what I can get.

So today, for your reading pleasure, may I present (in her own words!) Rebecca's dream:

In my dream...  You came to my house, very excited to share the news that you had almost been privileged to perform with Donny Osmond! And even though the performance didn't work out, you did get a beautiful, flowing dress (it was brown with blue trim, and very 70's chic!) out of the deal. I was so excited for you. So was Doug. (Rebecca's husband, better known around here as D-Dog or Scoop Dougy-Doug) You led us (through the air--we can fly in dreams, you know) to the place where you were given the dress. It was his apartment complex lobby, in a big city. You put the dress on, and it was lovely, of course. You were lovely. And then...Donny himself came into the lobby to greet you. I pulled out the video camera to record (of course, even in my dream I had video issues and could only capture 30 seconds of it!) as you and Donny sang, danced, and signed "Soldier of Love" together, al impromptu. I was so impressed and wondered how he knew the signs, too. You guys were fabulous, performing together! The small crowd in the lobby cheered, and then Donny graciously got away and went back to his business (checking his mail or whatever). But as we went outside to leave, we ran into his lovely wife and she sat outside on the grass with us and chatted with us (at this point, you were the big celebrity, of course!) about her family woes. So I once again took on the role of paparazzi and went down the grassy hill a distance to take some still shots of you and Mrs. Osmond and your groupies. And darn it if I didn't have camera issues AGAIN! This time, it turned out I was holding the camera upside down and getting a glare in the pics. Silly me!

How do you like that? I flew! I had groupies! I wore a fabulous, flowy, 70's chic dress! And Donny Osmond knew sign language! (I'm sure he was tutored by his brothers, Virl and Tom.) Honestly, does it get any better than that?

OK, it would have been amazing if I sang an encore number, maybe a song from Newsies, with Christian Bale.

Show Me A Sign

I will admit, I went into this with fairly low expectations. Generally when I am asked to teach a sign language class at church it is frustrating because everyone's expectations are different than mine. Or someone will have already taken a class somewhere and they like to tell me I'm doing a particular sign incorrectly - which leads to my lecture on the varying dialects of ASL (I won't bore you here) and the burning desire to sarcastically ask that person to go ahead and teach us the real way to sign the words I have used my entire life and they have known for 2 semesters.

But not tonight. Oh no, not tonight.

Things began casually with a review of what they had learned last week - various foods and the like. And then I told them I didn't have anything planned for my first class as teacher - but did anyone want to learn anything specific?

Did they ever.

It started innocently with signs for feelings - happy, sad, tired, bored... and the importance of using facial expressions to convey the extent of each emotion. I think the word "sick" is what started us going.

"How would you say sick - as in, sick to your stomach?" "And what if you feel like you are going to throw up?" "How about diarrhea?"

You can see where this is going. And going, and going... We even covered some medical terms. (One of the ladies is a nurse, so I felt justified...)

I swear, it was like we were at Scout Camp.

And so, this is how I came to enjoy one of the most enriching church enrichment classes our neighborhood has ever known. We had ladies of all ages and different walks of life having a grand old time laughing and learning together. I have never laughed so hard in my life while teaching ASL.


Ladies, thank you for destroying the stereotype. I am looking forward to next week.