The Meaning of Signs

The first thing you notice is that her movements are tidy, businesslike, and efficient. In fact, the only thing you really see are her hands. And when the two people at the front of the audience simultaneously move their eyes from her to the slides, she stops moving altogether. I, on the other hand, cannot keep my eyes off her. Nor can I stop watching her replacement – a younger girl who tires after ten minutes because, my guess is, she uses her entire body. She even employs her face to relay the verbal place-holders (uhhhh) and grimaces Christopher Poole uses when he cannot find the words to describe his ridiculously popular image board website. And when the words do come, they are obscure packages like “Internet meme” and “online handles.” Even the commonplace “servers and bandwidth” seems daunting in the land of signage. As someone who, just the other week, accidentally said “mesa” instead of “mes” I cannot fathom finding the words to translate a presentation about the origin of 4chan and Canvas…with my hands.

The New York Times says that Poole is a successful public speaker, but that is being kind. Surely, in a year’s time he will be a star but on this day he stands in one place, he flops his hands around, he suffers from dry mouth. It’s the content that sells. the content underneath the delivery. (coupled with the draw of getting a look at this 23 year old who created, from his boyhood bedroom, the Internet’s next big thing.)

As luck would have it, the third signer is a mix of the previous two: she is not as calm as the first, nor is she as passionate or desperate as the last.

I am at the front for these things (particularly in a large crowd such as this) because it is common knowledge that sitting at the front of the class helps you hear, see, and understand the content. And clearly I get distracted; because this whole sign language thing begets the contemplation of how we access and digest meaning.

Not only do our words create a thin veil over the value we attempt to communicate, but these signers demonstrate (for how else can they do it?) that our bodies likewise get in the way. Here were three examples – ranging from cold to moderate to effusive and I’m hard pressed to claim that one surpasses the other.

I would have loved to have asked the two deaf audience goers their opinion. Do you prefer a translator who is over the top or muted? How about somewhere in between? At what point is personality necessary and when does it get distracting?

Perhaps it is simply a matter of taste. We choose people to be part of our lives based on what works for us. Because, surely we are all translators for one another in this world. And the trick is to find others who render what they see, hear, touch, taste, and know in a way we can understand. On a limb, it is arguable that “meaning” in the world is one singular thing cut into pieces, dispersed, then multiplied in its various moving parts. Everything headed in separate directions.

Of course, if we all understood each other perfectly, the world would be a simple, uncomplicated place. Misunderstandings keep the world from being boring, keep our lives beautiful and interesting and new because we must forever endeavor to find ways to understand.

I can do without the straightforward translation. On the other hand, I want a fighting chance to know my own meaning of the world.

But, that’s just me.