"If I don't do it, who will?": Introduction

I went through a period as an incoming college freshman when I didn't want to let anyone know that I knew sign language. It's one of the ultimate trump cards. When you're talking about yourself nothing less than astrophysics or brain surgery can really compete, but sign language's easier to travel with. Proving the mass of the Milky Way or repairing Broca's area requires a lot of materials, extensive jargon, can get a bit messy, and tends to lose most everyone to boredom or sleep, but most people will stop what they're doing and stare when I drop what's in my hands to interpret a conversation. It looks so simple. A couple of hand movements, some weird facial expressions, and the world falls silent at your behest. When I engage in conversation with a Deaf person a line of spectators gather and watch as if it were the Wimbleton Title Match and they don't know a thing about tennis. Spellbound yet dumbstruck.

I didn't want that. Too easy, too confining. At worst you get permanently labeled as "That Guy Who Knows Sign Language". At best, everyone will be telling you how cool it is that you know that.
Everyone.
Without fail.
100% expectency.
This is the flow of the most frequent stock response:

"You know Sign Language? That's so cool! I've always wanted to learn how to do that!
The next sentence will include one, a combination of, or all of the following:
1. I have a (friend/cousin/friend of a cousin) [who knows a (friend/cousin/friend of a cousin)] who's deaf!
2. I learned the ABC's (in school/at camp/a long time ago)! (This is usually accompanied by a demonstration of said ABCs)
3. It's one of my ultimate life dreams to learn that!

"How do you know signing?"
At this point I relay a story about my family and childhood, by rote, tight and 2 minutes long. Well-practiced. I can deliver it in three languages. This is the trump card being played.

"Wow! So your brothers are deaf! That's so cool! I mean, not that your brothers are deaf, but that's so cool! It's really cool that you know sign language."
Sheepishly, I give my thanks.

It's all putty in my hands. It happens pretty much this way, most every time. If I'm talking to a guy, he'll fire a barrage of questions getting deeper into the situation. If a girl, she'll ask me to teach her some signs or even ask me to tutor. Either way, I've caught attention. I got nowhere to go now. Five minutes into meeting someone new and I've given up the coolest thing about me. How do I compete with myself? And why is it so cool that I know sign language? That never connected with me. In fact, I was offended for a long time by that answer. I still haven't completely accepted it. Whatever. It all gets very tedious and unspectacular. Downright idiotic. I wouldn't want to use that opening for anything in the world. So I won't. Ever again. I'm gonna stop talking about it right now.


And I can't stop talking about it. 'Cause when I get pissed off or deeply emotional or just don't want to talk, my hands start to move. Everything I don't want to say my hands do. They know exactly where to go, how fast to go there, what shape to make. I break down my thought processes, trying to make phrases out of ideas, and they manifest themselves into pidgin ASL flow. This kind of thing has happened everywhere: Public, privacy, arguments, with headphones on, after months of never seeing a Deaf person. I have spontaneously signed peoples' conversations for the hell of it. I have translated unsubtitled signing I've seen on sitcoms and network television for anyone listening. I could never not do any of these things. I could never not sign to anyone Deaf. I could never not be conscious of how to translate any thing anyone is saying. I could never just stop and deny what I've been taught as a baby to be normal and essential to everything.


Signed,
"That Guy Who Knows Sign Language."