When I am training new interpreters, something I teach them right away is how to introduce themselves.
It looks something like this:
“Hi, my name is Micahjane and I am the interpreter today. Do you have experience with using an interpreter?”
If the answer is yes, I reply with:
“Great! Just to recap how to use us, remember to talk at your normal pace, speak directly to the Deaf participant, and don’t worry about me. I will dance around you.”
If the answer is no, I reply with:
“I am happy to be your first interpreter! A few things to keep in mind when using an interpreter. When speaking with the client, talk at your normal pace. Don’t worry if I am not catching something. If I, the interpreter, don’t understand or missed something, I will interrupt and say, ‘This is the interpreter. Do you mind repeating that last statement?’ or ‘This is the interpreter. I would like to clarify that you meant XYZ.’ This is a normal conversation between you and the client. I am here to make sure it happens smoothly. I am trained in the art of the interpreter dance, and I am quite adept at it.”
It isn’t always verbatim, but that’s the gist.
Every interpreter does their greeting in a way that fits their own style. I am more cheeky, so I like to add in a little fun.
Why?
Because if I can get them to smile, that usually means the anxiety around “Am I going to use the interpreter wrong?” starts to go down. And when the anxiety goes down, people tend to relax and be themselves.
That’s exactly what I want.
I want the Deaf client and the hearing client to have a normal conversation.
I’m just there to make sure they can.
Why Are Interpreters Always Standing Up Front at Events?
This is something I get asked a lot.
Why are the interpreters at the front of the room?
Or:
Why are they always trying to stand near the speaker?
Think about it.
As hearing people, we recognize people based on their voice or audio cues (breathe sounds, footsteps etc..) more than we recognize them by almost anything else. You can be washing dishes in the kitchen and know who just walked into the room
because you recognize their distinct audiological cues.
Deaf clients don’t have that same access.
They need to see the person who is speaking.
This, believe it or not, goes right back to the relational and inclusive portions of interpreting.
I could stand off to the side the entire time and technically provide access.
The Deaf client could see me signing.
But would they be seeing the person they’re actually communicating with?
Maybe not.
And that changes the experience.
Research on Deaf healthcare communication has found that visual attention, gaze, facial expression, body language, and direct communication can all play important roles in the interaction. One recent study specifically examining sign-language-interpreted healthcare visits found that simply having an interpreter present does not necessarily mean the Deaf participant has full access to the entire interaction.
Access is more complicated than just putting an interpreter in the room.
Let’s say, for example, we have a doctor and their patient.
If I position myself in a way that forces the Deaf patient to turn away from their provider for a large portion of the appointment, something important can be lost.
The patient may lose visual access to the provider’s facial expressions and body language.
The provider may lose the opportunity to see the patient’s reactions as they communicate.
The natural back-and-forth of the relationship becomes harder.
And that relationship matters.
Trust matters.
Being able to look at the person who is telling you something important matters.
The provider shouldn’t just see a name on a chart.
The patient shouldn’t feel like they are communicating through someone else.
They should be communicating with each other.
So What Is the Interpreter Actually Doing?
We’re dancing.
Okay, maybe not literally. Well, I mean if the music is right I will.
Although sometimes it really does feel like a dance.
We’re constantly adjusting our position, watching the room, watching the client, watching the speaker, making sure we’re not blocking anyone, making sure the client can see what they need to see, and making sure the communication keeps moving.
Sometimes there isn’t enough room to create the ideal positioning.
Sometimes the environment just isn’t cooperating.
That’s okay.
We find workarounds.
That’s part of the interpreter dance.
We’re constantly figuring out how to give our client access to:
– The interpreter.
– The speaker.
– The environment.
And, when possible, the relationship happening right in front of them.
Because we’re not just interpreting words.
We’re bridging communication.
And that brings us right back to something I talked about in my last blog:
– Access isn’t the whole picture. Access gets the interpreter in the room.
– Relational communication allows people to connect with each other.
– Inclusivity helps create an environment where everyone can participate.
And the interpreter?
We’re the loudest wallflower in the room.
We are there.
We’re working hard.
We’re doing our magic.
But the goal isn’t for everyone to see us.
The goal is for everyone to truly see each other.