Yesterday got off to a joyous start with hours spend in front of the TV watching the Inauguration--from the moving official swearing in to the balls with Michelle Obama in her stunning gown by Jason Wu and Jill Biden in hers by Vera Wang (I am gay after all), from the President's Inaugural speech with its explicit reference to gay rights to the benediction, which did the same, through gay poet Richard Blanco's poem, from the Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir, through Kelly Clarkson, to Beyoncé's beautiful version of the national anthem--the day was one to make Americans proud and hopeful. 

I took a break, however, for one of my guilty pleasures: ABCFamily's "Switched at Birth."  Until I read about the show by the New Yorker's uneven television critic, Emily Nussbaum, I had assumed that it was yet another inane reality show.  It's not.  It is in many ways a conventional TV drama with a nightime soap opera feel.  But it has two elements which make it interesting.  First, it's set in Kansas City, and although except for a few references to the Plaza or to UMKC, the city doesn't really have much of a part in the show, there are frequent background shots of KC.  (In her review, Nussbaum bizarrely says that the show gives a glimpse into the KC art scene.  What she meant by this I have no idea.)

The real distinguishing quality of the show is that one of the sisters who was switched at birth is deaf, and the series has a number of deaf characters and gives a rather serious look at Deaf culture with its pride, but also its exclusivity.  When two deaf characters are communicating, the viewer can hear only the ambient sounds and must follow by reading subtitles.  Among the hearing characters (the 'hearies' in the jargon of Deaf culture), there are some, like the other switched sister, who sign moderately well.  Others make a limited but well-meaning effort, and some cannot sign at all.  Even among the deaf, Emmett signs rather differently--just as fluently, but with more function words and fingerspelling than one normally finds in ASL.  My guess would be that the actor was probably mainstreamed rather than going to a school for the deaf.

In the 1970s, I studied sign language for a while and then taught an introductory course with a deaf woman.  Teaching was a frustrating experience because most of the students took the course because they thought signing was "beautiful" and after a semester or two, they'd be able to sign fluently.  But ASL is a fully formed language of its own--with its own "phonology" and syntax, as well as lexicon.  And just as one wouldn't take French 101 with the assumption that after a semester, s/he would be fluent, so too with ASL.  Most students disappeared quickly once they began to understand the intricacies of signed language.  I can still sign, slowly and with prompts for signs I've forgotten, but I can't read signing at all.  By the time I've figured out the first sign, the signer has finished a sentence or two.  Watching Switched at Birth makes me regret that I let my signing slip away.

Helen Keller was once asked which she would choose if she had a choice between seeing and hearing.  She chose hearing, which might suprise most of us who probably think that if we had to lose one sense, we'd rather save our sight.  But thinking about deafness, we have to make a distinction between those who are pre-lingually deaf (and who would generally prefer hearing to sight) and post-lingually deaf who already have the elements of language.  There are many misconceptions about deafness and signing.  One of the most common is the assumption that sign language is universal.  But that would be possible only if signing were iconographic and transparent, which it's not.  Although in some cases the signifier is obviously related to the signified and in a few other cases the sign is semi-transparent (a hearing person wouldn't comprehend the sign, but there is a connection that might be explained), in most cases, just as in all languages, the signified/signifier relationship is totally arbitary.  Just as spoken languages developed with completely different lexicons and grammars, so, too, did signed languages around the world.  American Sign Language has no relationship with British Sign Language; in fact, even something as simple as fingerspelling is completely different with the British using a two-handed system that completely baffles me.  ASL is, however, closely related to French Sign Language because it was the French who introduced signing in America.  I first realized this when I was watching a signed newscast in Paris and discovered that, while I couldn't follow whole sentences, I recognized familiar signs.  French fingerspelling differs from American in only two signs (h and t).

Like all languages, ASL has its own self-sufficient grammar.  It has dialects, and it changes through time.  It also has controversies.  The sign for black (the index finger drawn across the forehead) has always been neutral.  The sign for Jew, however, involves the gesture of stroking an imaginary beard, a sign that is also used for 'stingy.'  The sign for gay used to be, at least for some, licking the middle finger and smoothing an eyebrow.  Ironically, one of the controversial signs is that for deaf.  In Deaf culture, the relationship between deafness and speaking is a fraught one.  The sign for hearing is a small circular motion of the index finger lightly touching the lip, exactly the same sign for speaking.  The sign for deaf involves the index finger touching the lips and then the ear (or vice-versa).  During the 1970s, some in Deaf culture decided that that sign was inappropriate, since it implied a connection between deafness and speaking, so there was an attempt to introduce a new sign (hearing + closed) that involved touching the ear with the index finger, changing that handshape to a flat, open palm, and bringing it together with the flat open palm of the other hand.  The sign might have been logical, but it was also less efficient.  It involved a change of handshape, a larger movement, and two hands instead of one.  Just as in any language, efficiency trumped intentions, and the new sign never took hold.  Whenever someone signs 'deaf' on Switched at Birth, it's the traditional signed that's used.

Despite its many limitations and its conventional plotting, the series does provide a fascinating glimpse into another language and another subculture.  In last night's episode, the Daphne, who is deaf but who can read lips, says that you can't imagine how tiring it is to try to read lips all the time.  This series, with its complex (for TV) examination of Deaf language and culture, is a pleasure I feel only moderately guilty about enjoying.

Normally, my next blog would be Friday, but Friday morning we go to KC for the day-long battery of tests, so I'll wait till Saturday, after I've had the tests and consultation, to post the next entry.