Last week, I had an epiphany when I realized that I'd actually understood Sacrament meeting. Like, well enough that I could have interpreted what was going on without stress. I was like, "Woah, dude!" about the whole thing. It felt like a real break-through, or level-up, or something like that. But the euphoria was short-lived, alas.
On Wednesday, we had a Primary presidency meeting, and were discussing who could interpret for an activity we have this week. Suddenly, the conversation took a plot twist when someone said, "Maybe it's time for you to try interpreting."
I had a lot of reasons why that was a bad idea (namely, I'm not good enough yet) but my sisters pointed out that it was a perfect first time to try. My audience is 2 sisters who know me well, and are used to my gimpy signing. They are both very smart and good at English, and good at figuring out what's going on. And the activity is listening to an elderly gentleman tell stories from the past - he won't talk too fast, he won't say anything critically important, and it won't really matter if I mess something up.
I just want to say that having someone trust you as their means of communication is really pretty amazing. The sweet encouragement they gave me to give it a try was so touching. They made me feel like I was doing THEM a service, instead of them doing ME a service by being guinea pigs for the sake of my personal growth. Because we have actual interpreters that we could ask to come. But they wanted to encourage me, and help me grow. I feel just like a little boy who grows an inch when given a responsible task from his dad, because he knows he has tall shoes to fill, but his dad believes in him.
Lillian had a less-pleasant learning experience in Primary this week. We are working on a song to sing in Sacrament meeting. I was playing the piano (along with Andre) and Sister S. was helping the kids who were signing the song. At one point, she corrected something they were signing. Lillian, realizing that the signs we were using had come from a good source, objected to the modification. Sister S. reminded her of the rule in Deaf culture: when discussing matters of language, a hearing person should always defer to and learn from a Deaf person. Lillian turned to me to back her up. She was surprised when I didn't!
We got the translation of the song from a Deaf person, so why didn't I say we should stick with what we'd already practiced? Because Marriner and I realized early on (and from unfortunate mistakes) that we have to be perfectly humble to learn. We can't think that because we've studied a lot, we have become an authority on ASL. If someone Deaf tells us we should fix something, we fix it. If 10 minutes later, a different Deaf person corrects us back to the way we were doing it before, we correct back. No arguing, no explaining, just deference to the people who own the language. I hope Lillian caught that valuable lesson. It's been a great benefit to us.
In Sacrament meeting, I had the also-humbling experience of realizing that just because I understood a few people in Sacrament meeting the week before does not mean I'm fluent now. This week had some much faster signers, and different topics...and a not-to-be-named kid had consumed all my energy before church, such that I just wanted to curl up in the corner and close my eyes. In fact, I did close my eyes sometimes...maybe that's why I didn't understand so much :) Or maybe I gave in and closed my eyes because it was all going over my head...anyway, it was brutal. The last speaker was a fabulous signer (as defined by "way over my head!") and he was helping his daughter with a talk in Primary just after Sacrament meeting. He told the parable of the sower, and it was just fabulous. I completely understood him that time. So now I know - if the signing is going over my head, just tell them to talk to me like a little kid, and I'll be fine. Phew.
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