Yesterday my roommate and I were discussing the “eight
different types of intelligences.” Going to an independent high school, I heard
various educational/intellectual theories that surrounded this idea. Here’s the
gist: there are eight different types, ranging from logical to natural, and
everyone is a mixture. I like to think that I qualify for the “linguistic and
verbal intelligence,” which means “I’m good with words.” Just because I like writing? Sure, but also
because I like foreign languages. My sister jokes that I pick them up
overnight. Some people geek out about math; I geek out about syntax. I’m not a
hyperpolyglot1, but I get kind of nerdy about cultures and foreign
words. Au lycée j’étudiais français.
Quiero aprender español.2 今は日本語をべんきょうします.3
It’s always been academically and intellectually rewarding. My
next pursuit: American Sign Language. I want to learn ASL. Last night I put my
money where my mouth(/hands) is: I went to an ASL club meeting.
It was a last minute decision to attend with my friend.
Hipster College doesn’t offer ASL as a credit-earning course, so students
formed a club that meets on Thursday evenings. My playwriting class ran twenty
minutes over, so my friend and I showed up to the meeting about five minutes
late. After garrulously chatting in the echoing hall I was startled to walk
into practically silent but filled classroom. An instructor was signing as we
failed to slip in unnoticed. Her hands moved swiftly and easily from one word,
or letter, or number, or gesture to the next. I might as well have been in a
Hungarian language class. I had no clue what she was saying.
I know various ASL phrases thanks to Vacation Bible School. “Bible”
(and, therefore, “book”). “Jesus.” “Idea.” “I love you.” “Girl.” “Mother.” “Father.”
“Fuck you” (that one wasn’t from VBS). I didn’t know the alphabet, which is
hindering because the alternate to not knowing a sign is to spell out what you
want to say. It was startling but refreshing, since it’s been awhile since I’ve
been in a language course where I haven’t been able to dominate. I sat and
watched kids around the room sign in response, those who had been coming to
meetings for years, or even those who made it to the meeting last week.
Suddenly the instructor, a blond, zealously communicative
woman turned to me and signed with a deeply quizzical look on her face. Before
this she taught us the sign for “New York”4, but it wasn’t in the
thing she just signed. I turned to my friend, then to one of the four student
facilitators and shamefully asked for a translation. I didn’t feel bad that I
didn’t know how to say it; I felt bad that I didn’t know how to sign “what did
she say” so that the facilitator would know what I was saying as I asked
someone else for help.
The question: “Where are you from?” From that I learned how
to sign “I’m from Ohio.” I also now know the letters “O” “H” “I” and “O.” The
facilitator was immediately excited by this; apparently there are three deaf
retirement homes in America: one in Boston (or was it Baltimore?), one in
Arizona, and one in Ohio. Columbus, actually. Westerville, Ohio, where I lived
for about a month prior to moving to college. Ohio for the win.
That was just the warm-up question. The next question was far
more articulate: Why do you want to learn ASL?
How do you sign “Because languages are cool?” Was that a
legitimate reason? Was curiosity a reasonable enough excuse? Luckily for me,
she started receiving answers on the other side of the semi-circle. Lots of
students had deaf friends. I picked up on the sign for “to learn.” Finally it
was my turn. My attempted sign: I [points to self] love [the sign everyone
knows, ASL fluent or not] to learn [left palm flat like a plate, and the right
hand traveling from the left hand to the forehead like…a jellyfish…for lack of
a better explanation]. That felt like a nerdy
and pretentious answer, but I went with it.
The instructor laughed this joyful, cackling laugh. So did
the student facilitators and other more knowledgeable students (not quite as
idiosyncratically as the instructor).
I actually signed “I I
love you to learn.” Brilliant. It followed the best language-learning method I’d
ever known; make mistakes and learn from them. I relaxed much more after that.
The rest of the hour was spent going over numbers and
emotions. Apparently, the middle finger is essential when discussing feelings.
Most kids were “feeling tired,” so much so that the instructor started refusing
that answer. Facial expressions are also essential
when communicating via ASL for context reasons. Smiling when signing “no”
is unacceptable and confusing.
There were a few other surprises: clapping/applause is signed
by doing jazz hands and smiling. “Yes” is shaking your fist as if it’s a head. The
nuances and details are important; it can mean the difference between “fuck off”
and “thank you.”
I walked out of the room thanking the instructor and worrying
that I’d forget everything I had learned. ASL probably aligns better with “body
movement/kinetic intelligence,” or maybe “interpersonal intelligence.” I think
I intellectually identify with the latter well enough; the former’s one that I’m
less certain about. But my delight, I was able to whip out the numbers, places,
and a few phrases with my friend who’d invited me to the meeting as we sat on
the north lawn enjoying the temperate, beautiful September day. It’s officially
autumn, now that leaves fall and black and brown squirrels scavenge for nuts5.
The forecast for this weekend is lovely, too, great for going into the city…for
the second time this week.
A black squirrel searching for nuts
In reality, this is what squirrels do to "Buckeyes."
[the human proceeded to wash its hands]
Rodent Spy
I promise. I’ll write about New York City soon.
ENDNOTES
1.
From the book Bable No More by Michael Erard, a “hyperpolyglot” is someone who
speaks (or can use in reading, writing, or translating) at least six languages
(p. 12).
2.
I took one year of Spanish II (for whatever
that’s worth) in high school. I should’ve paid more attention; Spanish is spoken
all over the place here, not just in New York, but also on campus.
3.
I translated this sentence myself, where I omitted
the subject “I” because I assumed it was clear that we’re talking about me…this
is my blog, after all! (Haha)
4.
Left hand: make a flat surface. Right hand:
hang ten sign. Rub the right hand back and forth over the left hand. There! You’re
signing New York…I think.
5.
You have not seen a cute squirrel until you’ve
seen one with its mouth full of acorns. It was a cute, uncaptured experience at
the Botanical Gardens.
RELEVANT WEBSITES
-The 8 Intelligence Types: https://www.srpl.net/the-8-intelligence-types-which-ones-fit-you-best/
-One of the three deaf retirement homes in the United States: http://www.columbuscolony.org/history.html
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