Of Lettuce and Lincoln
As a writer, I oftentimes stumble across roadblocks, especially as a bilingual dealing with two languages that have practically nothing in common - English and American Sign Language. When I write pieces that feature myself, or a character that happens to be Deaf or Hard of Hearing, I get frustrated when I try to translate dialogue that were originally in ASL into written English.
How the heck does anyone do that?
There are a few schools of thought on this matter. I've read many books that feature characters using ASL, and the formatting and transcribing of those dialogue bits vary from story to story. Yet there's no one steadfast rule for writing ASL dialogue in a story that is written primarily in English. Spoken foreign languages are one thing, but when one deals with a language that is as highly visual as ASL is, one runs into issues recapturing the vividity of the language into the written word.
The following are a few examples of other writers that have attempted the issue of bilingualism in literature:
"I love you," the boy signed to the girl. (Here, the dialogue is rendered in plain English with a "he signed" marker separating sign from speech).
"I love you," the boy signed to the girl. (So-called rule of thumb instructs writers to write italics for foreign languages).
"I love you," the boy signed to the girl. (Here, boldface is used to indicate signed dialogue).
"ILY," the boy flashed the sign for I-love-you to the girl. (The Chicago Manual of Style 16th Edition goes in depth discussing the finer points of ASL glossing when English words are used in the ASL grammar and syntax).
So, which way works? One reader might prefer one way while another reader might vouch for another way. Which one do you, as the reader, prefer to see?
I play with this all the time, especially when language is a core theme of the essays and memoirs that I have written. Upon request from a reader, I've posted a sample of my writing which focuses on the language transcription of such a language dilemma. Here, both characters are not using ASL, but rather, a system of signs called Signing Exact English which puts ASL words in the English order but with initializing the sign: House instead of house, playING and eatED and slowLY to put emphasis on the word.
Even words that might share the same sign in ASL, differing by the way they are said, are done differently with SEE. Instead of signing BIG to represent big, large, gigantic, enormous, etc., one would use the letter of the alphabet as the initial sign for the word - hence B-big L-big, G-big, E-big, and so on. In the following memoir, an example of this is heavily used in context.
Enjoy!
One dinner episode during my second preschool year showed how far I’d come in terms of gaining language to the point where I surpassed my parents in sign acquisition. Before then, all the signs I knew were taught by parents, and in turn, by the sign language instructor that came to our house several times a week to drill us on the philosophy of Total Communication.
At first, it was not problematic – simple signs were ideal at first as babies learn one word at a time. Eventually, the baby will acquire enough language – and incidentally learn it from others around themselves. At one point, the baby/child’s language base might surpass that of their parents – and take off. When this happens, hearing parents fall behind as inadequate models for their child’s signed language acquisition. With most deaf and hard of hearing children, this happens in late elementary school years. They all knew that one day, the deaf child will leave their parents behind in the dust – but my parents didn't think it would be so soon. For me, it happened in pre-kindergarten.
Scarcely five years old, I’d come home from school where I attended prekindergarten full-day with a class of deaf and hard of hearing toddlers. My mother took me into the kitchen where a snack was laid out.
In a series of signs heavily enunciated by initialized suffixes and prefixes and endings (as decreed by the TC philosophy coupled with Signing Exact English), she asked what I did in school.
Covering the basics – playtime, lunchtime, blocks – I went for the gold. “We talkeD about Lxxx” Here, I shaped my hand into a L and tapped my temple.
Perplexed, Mom listed off the possible words that fit in that blank. “Lettuce? As in Cabbage? You talkeD about Lettuce To Day?”
I shook my head. “NO!” Repeating the motion, I brought it back to my head with an exaggerated flourish. “Lxxx!”
“Loser?” She suggested, making the universal L on the forehead to indicate a loser in terms of name-calling. “Some One CalleD you A LoseR?”
“NO!” Thinking for a moment, I added the sign for president, as indicated by bringing my hands to my forehead and sliding away into fists. “To Day hiS Birth Day!”
“Whose Birth Day?” With that, my mother scanned the family calendar for people’s names that started with a L.
Running out of patience, I waved my hand in her face. “NO – on money!” Here, I made the sign for penny, tapping a P on my palm.
“Medicine? You aRe sick and you need A medicine that startS with L?”
“NOOOOOO!!!” With that, I ran over to my mother’s purse and dragged it to the table. Crawling up onto the chair, I stood over the bag and dug around, looking for the object. Determined, I found her wallet and opened up the change pocket. I dug out a penny and nearly put my mother’s eye out by poking it in her face. “Lxxx on Penny!”
Taking the proffered coin from me, Mom squinted at the profile of Abraham Lincoln on the penny and a light bulb went off in her mind. “Ooohh… Abraham Lincoln… yes, hiS Birth Day… and yes, hE’s on A Penny…”
My face scrunched up disgust. “I told you! Lincoln!” With that, Lxxx became Lincoln. Abraham Lincoln.
How the heck does anyone do that?
There are a few schools of thought on this matter. I've read many books that feature characters using ASL, and the formatting and transcribing of those dialogue bits vary from story to story. Yet there's no one steadfast rule for writing ASL dialogue in a story that is written primarily in English. Spoken foreign languages are one thing, but when one deals with a language that is as highly visual as ASL is, one runs into issues recapturing the vividity of the language into the written word.
The following are a few examples of other writers that have attempted the issue of bilingualism in literature:
"I love you," the boy signed to the girl. (Here, the dialogue is rendered in plain English with a "he signed" marker separating sign from speech).
"I love you," the boy signed to the girl. (So-called rule of thumb instructs writers to write italics for foreign languages).
"I love you," the boy signed to the girl. (Here, boldface is used to indicate signed dialogue).
"ILY," the boy flashed the sign for I-love-you to the girl. (The Chicago Manual of Style 16th Edition goes in depth discussing the finer points of ASL glossing when English words are used in the ASL grammar and syntax).
So, which way works? One reader might prefer one way while another reader might vouch for another way. Which one do you, as the reader, prefer to see?
I play with this all the time, especially when language is a core theme of the essays and memoirs that I have written. Upon request from a reader, I've posted a sample of my writing which focuses on the language transcription of such a language dilemma. Here, both characters are not using ASL, but rather, a system of signs called Signing Exact English which puts ASL words in the English order but with initializing the sign: House instead of house, playING and eatED and slowLY to put emphasis on the word.
Even words that might share the same sign in ASL, differing by the way they are said, are done differently with SEE. Instead of signing BIG to represent big, large, gigantic, enormous, etc., one would use the letter of the alphabet as the initial sign for the word - hence B-big L-big, G-big, E-big, and so on. In the following memoir, an example of this is heavily used in context.
Enjoy!
***
OF LETTUCE AND LINCOLN
One dinner episode during my second preschool year showed how far I’d come in terms of gaining language to the point where I surpassed my parents in sign acquisition. Before then, all the signs I knew were taught by parents, and in turn, by the sign language instructor that came to our house several times a week to drill us on the philosophy of Total Communication.
At first, it was not problematic – simple signs were ideal at first as babies learn one word at a time. Eventually, the baby will acquire enough language – and incidentally learn it from others around themselves. At one point, the baby/child’s language base might surpass that of their parents – and take off. When this happens, hearing parents fall behind as inadequate models for their child’s signed language acquisition. With most deaf and hard of hearing children, this happens in late elementary school years. They all knew that one day, the deaf child will leave their parents behind in the dust – but my parents didn't think it would be so soon. For me, it happened in pre-kindergarten.
Scarcely five years old, I’d come home from school where I attended prekindergarten full-day with a class of deaf and hard of hearing toddlers. My mother took me into the kitchen where a snack was laid out.
In a series of signs heavily enunciated by initialized suffixes and prefixes and endings (as decreed by the TC philosophy coupled with Signing Exact English), she asked what I did in school.
Covering the basics – playtime, lunchtime, blocks – I went for the gold. “We talkeD about Lxxx” Here, I shaped my hand into a L and tapped my temple.
Perplexed, Mom listed off the possible words that fit in that blank. “Lettuce? As in Cabbage? You talkeD about Lettuce To Day?”
I shook my head. “NO!” Repeating the motion, I brought it back to my head with an exaggerated flourish. “Lxxx!”
“Loser?” She suggested, making the universal L on the forehead to indicate a loser in terms of name-calling. “Some One CalleD you A LoseR?”
“NO!” Thinking for a moment, I added the sign for president, as indicated by bringing my hands to my forehead and sliding away into fists. “To Day hiS Birth Day!”
“Whose Birth Day?” With that, my mother scanned the family calendar for people’s names that started with a L.
Running out of patience, I waved my hand in her face. “NO – on money!” Here, I made the sign for penny, tapping a P on my palm.
“Medicine? You aRe sick and you need A medicine that startS with L?”
“NOOOOOO!!!” With that, I ran over to my mother’s purse and dragged it to the table. Crawling up onto the chair, I stood over the bag and dug around, looking for the object. Determined, I found her wallet and opened up the change pocket. I dug out a penny and nearly put my mother’s eye out by poking it in her face. “Lxxx on Penny!”
Taking the proffered coin from me, Mom squinted at the profile of Abraham Lincoln on the penny and a light bulb went off in her mind. “Ooohh… Abraham Lincoln… yes, hiS Birth Day… and yes, hE’s on A Penny…”
My face scrunched up disgust. “I told you! Lincoln!” With that, Lxxx became Lincoln. Abraham Lincoln.
***
Until next time, folks!
Comments
Post a Comment
Please leave a name with your question, comment, or heartfelt concern.