One thing that I learned within the last six months is that there are many different conceptual approaches to ASL interpretation. For example, there’s a theory that thinks of the interpreter as a ‘conduit’ who provides no cultural translation – so an interpreter would translate an English idiom literally to a native ASL speaker instead of translating the concept to ASL. You can read more about the different models here.
Recently, I was reading an article, A Feminist-Relational Approach to Interpreting. It was super-interesting. I encourage you to read it if you have the time.
Let’s start by defining the words ‘feminist’ and ‘relational’: in this context, ‘feminist’ is a set of related philosophies and approaches related to things like empowerment and consensus-building that don’t apply only to women or sexual/gender minorities. A ‘relational’ approach “examines individuals in context (Ulrich, 1996). It notes that each interaction is a unique mix of participants, place, time and social conditions.”1 With this perspective, the goal of the feminist-relational interpretation is to avoid oppressing the Deaf participant and to not inadvertently act as the oppressor. The interpreter is aware of their role as a bilingual individual who mediates the power balance between the minority language speaker and the majority language speaker.
At first, I was a bit dubious. What if the well-meaning interpreter ends up being condescending towards me because he or she knows The Answer to saving Deaf people from oppression? What if the interpreter’s hidden agenda interfered with my services?
But, as I kept reading, I began to grasp just how empowering it would be to have an interpreter who took a feminist-relational approach to interpreting because it puts an emphasis on the idea that “experience is linked to respecting individuals and valuing their stories. It takes into account the unique perceptions of people who, although sharing an event, experience it differently.”2 So, instead of pretending that I grew up Hearing and that I understand every single rule of Hearing social etiquette, an interpreter would treat me like I truly am, a deaf person.
Let’s get honest here – even though I grew up among mostly Hearing people, I still don’t understand all of Hearing culture’s inner workings to this day. When I was younger, having a personal connection to interpreters was quite important to helping me navigate a mainstreamed school – For instance, A Feminist-Relational Approach to Interpreting talks about how interpreters can help their student determine culturally appropriate times to ask questions. My interpreter in primary school did things like this, and I really appreciated having her around to teach me about Hearing culture. Before she began doing this, I would get sent to the office for “speaking out of turn.”
When the interpreter-client relationship is deeper than a simple professional relationship, I definitely feel more connected to my surroundings. For instance, in high school, I definitely appreciated having an interpreter who stood in quiet support of me when I had a homophobic teacher who would yell at my then-sweetie and I whenever we held hands outside of class. He didn’t do much – he simply let me know that, although he was Mormon like our teacher, he stood in full support of LGBTQ rights and saw absolutely no reason whatsoever, religious or otherwise, to act/think like our teacher did. Having that support helped me keep going to that class and I learned a lot about the subject matter in spite of that teacher, who was an asshole for many many reasons beyond the scope of this post.
When the interpreter treats it simply as if it is a job, I feel very disconnected and even exploited. And when the interpreter acts as if he or she possesses no understanding of the Deaf experience whatsoever, I feel uncomfortable. For instance, I had an interpreter who talked about how she had encountered one of her clients at the local Deaf and Hearing Professionals Happy Hour and how awkward that was because she interpreted for that client’s therapy sessions. As somebody with very strong feelings about the stigmatization of mental illness, I was completely appalled. Also, we place a large amount of trust in our interpreters, mostly by necessity, and to have that trust violated is horrible.
Looking back, her behavior was utterly unprofessional even by standard interpreting guidelines – I should have requested to switch an interpreter. But at the time, it didn’t even occur to me as an option – I had been told so many times that the hired interpreters were set in stone that I had forgotten all about my rights.3 It definitely made me feel much more uncomfortable in that class to voice my opinion because I knew that that interpreter was sitting there in judgment of her clients. What if she didn’t like my opinion about the political system of Mexico or something?
So, having an interpreter who came from a more feminist-relational context and was in a position where he or she truly understood all the intricacies and power dynamics inherent in the Deaf/Hearing relationship would be very empowering, I think. Especially if that interpreter was also able to expand their understanding of power dynamics to other minority relations – I am also a queer man, so having an interpreter who is able to support me in that aspect too is very empowering. Like in my aforementioned example of the Mormon interpreter who stood by my side – or, in another example, when I had two gay interpreters (one male, one female) and they would sometimes just so happen to discuss their partners in our conversations during break times. Nothing too personal, just older adults talking about their domestic gay lives. It made me feel more welcome in the sometimes-homophobic classroom.
As A Feminist-Relational Approach to Interpreting discusses, it’s not just empowering for me, but for the interpreter, too. When I worked with interpreters a lot in a job where I was responsible for determining the feasibility of remote ASL interpretation in the university, I talked to them a lot. And I learned that a lot more interpreters genuinely care about us than I had realized. For example, I had the opportunity of talking to a woman who had been interpreting for the university for about 20 years, and just hearing about her passion for Deaf people and the community as a whole was pretty awesome.
And, when I think back to the aforementioned interpreter who is one of the most ethically-concerned interpreters I’ve had from an adult perspective, I can see that he felt very powerless in that situation. He could see no way out of the iron suit of the code of conduct. If he had been aware of alternatives, I think that he would have felt more empowered to act out against the dysfunctional situation that he saw every day – for instance, here is one scenario in which an interpreter was able to retain rights to file a complaint:
An interpreter visited a Deaf friend who had recently been released from a hospital that had not provided appropriate accommodation. During the visit, nurses came to teach self-care. The interpreter refused to interpret the session. This would have meant accepting an obligation to hold confidential all information. Instead the interpreter allowed the interaction to occur at a ponderously slow and frustrating pace, fre-quently stopping to check that his Deaf friend understood the instructions. In doing this, the interpreter retained the right to file a complaint against the visiting nurse ser-vice with the Office on Civil Rights.
I think that having that option would have been incredibly empowering for both my interpreter and I.
However, I think that people have to be very careful about how this plays out. What is key is how the interpreter goes about all of this. They can’t just rush in and save their Deaf client all the time. They have to take their Deaf client’s perspective into consideration.
One thing that has helped me with my interpreter/client relations in general – and they go into this a little bit in A Feminist-Relational Approach to Interpreting, too – is having contact with interpreters outside of a classroom setting. For instance, one of my interpreters would take me out to lunch to discuss the dynamics of what was going on inside the classroom and ask for opinions from me about how he could better serve me. I think that having that kind of open, regular discussion would be very valuable and empowering for everyone involved.
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- This was a team-interpreting situation – interpreter B seemed just as appalled as I did when interpreter A began talking about her client… so I think that one of the best things that interpreter B could have done would have been to say, “Hey, how did that comment make you feel?” after class. But, on the other hand, I can see where she might have been unsure about the possibility creating a rift in the team solidarity. [↩]
