 I'm Freda Norman. Welcome to American Culture, The Deaf Perspective, which examines deaf Americans, their heritage, folklore, minority perspectives, and as illustrated in this third program, literature. Literature expresses ideas in an artistic fashion rather than in a strictly factual way. These ideas can be relayed by books, television, movies, or plays. But there are distinctions. As we all know, not every book or TV show can be considered literature. Literature consists of creative, imaginative works that have either been held in esteem, have withstood the test of time, or are otherwise considered works of merit. We will be showing you literary works created by deaf people in English and in American sign language. Recently, in San Francisco, several specialists working with different media in the field of deaf literature met to discuss some of the aspects of deaf literature. Author Leo Jacobs, playwright Gilbert Eastman, director Don Bangs, and poet Ella May Lentz joined moderator Marlon Coons for this discussion. Mr. Coons is an educator at the California School for the Deaf in Fremont. Next are some highlights from the panel discussion, following which Mr. Coons will provide a brief summary of the additional ideas presented. How do we define deaf literature? The important question is who defines deaf literature? The deaf community itself must decide what it is. Deaf literature must reflect a sensitivity to the deaf experience. Creative works in ASL should be considered literature, especially since we have the technology to record and preserve them on videotape. In the future, I think works in ASL will be considered a part of the general category of literature. With time, things change, and so do definitions. We shouldn't allow the current definition of literature to dictate the criteria of our literature, but rather let our literature determine the definition. Well, I don't think deaf literature needs to be limited to ASL. I don't think that's realistic. Most deaf people are bilingual, and that needs to be considered as well. You know, in my play Sign me Alice, a lot of the humor is cultural specific. Many of the jokes and sign language puns are lost to non-signers. The deaf audience laughs, but not anyone else. I remember one night after a performance, a lady came up to me and said, that's not fair. I asked, what's not fair? It's not fair that the deaf people laugh while I don't, she said. And I told her, well, it's your turn now. I've been to many a play where the audience laughed and I didn't get it. Now Leo, you were talking about translations. I don't know if it's possible to translate plays like Sign me Alice into English. It loses in the translation, especially the humor, which is true for translated works in any language. Before I cover some of the other points the panel discussed, let me show you an example of a translated work. Patrick Graybill illustrates the creative applications of American sign language in his translated Japanese haiku. Mr. Graybill was one of the founding members of the National Theater of the Deaf, also known as NTD. He's now a professor of theater arts at the National Technical Institute for the Deaf in Rochester, New York. Let's take a look. My eighth and favorite poem, Silence Again, first in English. An old silent pond, into that pond a frog jumps, splash, silence again. Now I'll show you my original ASL translation. An old silent pond, into that pond a frog jumps, splash, silence again. Now hold on, it's pretty, yes. But about three years ago the National Theater of the Deaf invited me to tour Japan with them. There I met some Japanese deaf people and we were standing around chatting. I showed them this poem. They got real excited and said, hey, we know the place that inspired the poet to write this poem. I said, really? Will you take me there? I was so excited. When we got there, they said, there it is. I looked. I couldn't believe it. The pond was that big. The frog was that little. I had it all wrong thinking big like the typical American. The pond huge. The frogs jump a splash. So I should sign it this way. The last performance we just saw by Patrick Graybill was a clever artistic translation in American sign language of a Japanese haiku. Our discussion group felt that the artistic use of ASL is one indicator of deaf literature. However, they also made a distinction between creative applications of ASL in deaf literature and those in translated works. By definition, translated works such as the one we've just seen should be considered as a category separate from deaf literature. We must also clarify the difference between the deaf in literature and deaf literature. Although deaf characters have been portrayed in many literary works produced by hearing authors, only when these works reflect the true deaf experience can they be classified as deaf literature. Finally, if literary pieces are produced in ASL rather than English, they should be recorded and preserved on film or videotape. These are but a few of the points to be remembered in further discussions of deaf literature. Throughout history, deaf literature has grown. Most of it strongly influenced by English. In 1973, a deaf playwright, Gilbert Eastman, professor of theater arts at Gallaudet College, produced a sign language play. Entitled, Simon Alice, this play, like George Bernard Shaw's Pigmalion, is based upon the myth of the sculptor Pigmalion who attempts to sculpt the ideal model. Only this time, in Eastman's play, Alice rejects the attempts by the hearing world to impose an ideal model on her and her language. Now Mr. Eastman talks about what prompted him to write this play. I wrote Sign Me Alice because I began noticing that the styles of communication were so varied among the students of Gallaudet College. Students were breaking into cliques, seeking out others with whom they could communicate. These groups would never associate with each other. I couldn't understand why that was happening. What was wrong? Then I realized that they all used different signing systems. Some groups were using ASL, others sign in exact English, and still others were following whatever the latest trend happened to be. I was dumbfounded because years ago we all used the same sign language. But since that time, Gallaudet had become like a tower of babble. Everyone seemed to be speaking a different language. So I decided to write a play about a young girl who has communication problems. Not with speech, but with sign language. Ah, the irony. You know, for years deaf children had problems with their speech, but in this play they have problems with their sign language. The play is about a deaf girl who is looking for the ideal group, one in which she can feel at home. She encounters various members of the deaf community and each one treats her as an outsider. She becomes frustrated and often asks herself, Who am I? While searching for her own identity, she realizes she has the right to use the sign language of her own choice to communicate. I'd like to write more plays about deaf people, but I can't be the only one. I strongly encourage more deaf people to write plays and share their experiences. I hope that eventually someone will write a book documenting deaf theater. It would provide the greatly needed role models for deaf children. I think they need that strong identification with deaf theater and the people who are active in it. In addition to his other accomplishments, Gilbert Eastman was a founding member of the National Theater of the Deaf, also known as NTD. Established in 1967, it was the first professional deaf theater. NTD tried to show the beauty of visual language by experimenting with signed translations. In 1971, NTD presented its first original work, My Third Eye. The following excerpt is a satire about the reversal of society's roles, typical of hearing and deaf people. Here is the exhibit. See, yourselves. Body shape the same, limbs the same. Behavior are different. You and I use our eyes. Blank, weak. You and I use our faces. Except around the mouth. You will notice that the mouths will continue to move throughout this performance. Let our actors show you what we saw. See what happens? Nothing can stop her. Bird, we saw that because they do not use their hands, they have a fear of touching. The National Theater of the Deaf influenced many members of the deaf community and has inspired other artists to explore the creative potentials of American Sign Language in related fields, such as poetry. Traditionally, deaf poets have created their works in English, then translated them into sign language. Only recently have deaf poets begun composing in sign language independent of English. Ella May Lentz, whom you've already met, talks about her own evolution as a poet and performs two pieces for you. The second of which is an excerpt from her original composition in American Sign Language. When I was 12 or 13 years old, the National Theater of the Deaf came to town. I was excited when my family took me to see them because I knew several of the actors who were from the Bay Area. I enjoyed it tremendously. For the first time, I saw deaf performers in a professional setting. They presented poetry classics translated into sign language. The translations were beautiful, but they weren't in American Sign Language. At that time, people didn't recognize ASL as a language in its own right. They lacked a formal knowledge of ASL structure, so translations were heavily influenced by the syntax of English. When I entered Gallaudet College in 1971, I studied with Professor Eastman. The class was Sign Language Translation for Theater. During the course, Professor Eastman said that American Sign Language and English were equally sophisticated. I argued, saying, no, it can't be. English is a far more complex language. ASL is nothing more than broken English. We debated this issue throughout the semester. Yes, it is. No, it isn't. Yes, it is. No, it isn't. Until finally, I understood his points. Obviously, it had always been more natural for me to relate to information in my language. And with this, I was inspired to move on. Later, I took a creative writing class because I like poetry. I'd been writing poetry in English for a while. The professor, however, was very progressive and said, why don't you write your poetry in sign language? I thought, well, why not? So I did. I would begin signing my poem, then try to recompose it on paper. I had a hard time making the transition from motion to a static form. But it seemed to me the two mediums should be able to blend. Then I met British performer and deaf poet Dorothy Miles. She, too, had been dealing with the relationship between sign language and English poetry, which gave us a lot to talk about. Her approach to this problem is illustrated in her poem, Total Communication, which integrates the two forms using both languages. The first line reads, Can you and I see I to I? In her signed version, the dual meanings are conveyed. The English implies the meaning, do we agree? And the signing also incorporates the literal meaning looking I to I and coming to agreement. Here you'll see both the written and signed versions working together. In the past few years, people have become more aware of ASL's richness and scope. Because of this, American sign language is more widely accepted. Research continues to uncover linguistic principles which artists are now using as tools. By applying this knowledge, we expand the creativity of our language and we no longer feel restricted by the written form of English. The poetry form began to change. In my own work, I began to concentrate on rhythmic aspects of sign language. In my most recent work, which is an untitled piece, you will be able to see this rhythmic use of signs. The theme I've addressed in this piece is society's oppression of our language and therefore our culture. We were simply talking in our language of signs. When stormed by anthem driven soldiers pitched to fever by the score of their regime, they cuffed our hands, strangled us with iron reins. Follow me. Line up. Now set. The captain whip-and-hand inflicts his sentence with this command. Speak. Speak. Speak. Damn your chains. We'll pronounce our own deliverance and articulate our message loud and clear. And for the width of a breath, we grant each other asylum, talking in our language of signs. When they pound, pound, pound. Don't answer. Don't open. It's bad. Don't. The thunder rolls again. But I want to. I want to see. Well, maybe I just want to see. So step by step, we succumb our silent agreement, undone. Come out of your dark and silent world and join us in our bright and lovely world. Look. Those whose ears work are signing. Yes, but such queer speech they shape. What waits out there to be fair? We should see more. Could it be they've rearranged their score? And one by one, we go down the corridor of their sterile syntax. Not knowing. Her performance and her poem touched me deeply. This excerpt illustrates some of our deepest fears, but her full poem goes on to conclude on a note of hope. For use of American sign language is so eloquent, it's truly inspirational. We just traced the imaginative use of ASL in both drama and poetry. But this influence has also touched shows made for television, such as Rainbow's End, a public television series for children. Created and scripted in ASL, as well as English, Rainbow's End is a prime example of bilingual literature. Ladies and gentlemen and octopus, we are a troupe of actors called the sweet and sour players. We've traveled the world round, and now we are proud to present a performance entitled The Motorcycle Bunch. Ladies and gentlemen, let's meet today's writers. On the inside lane, heart-hearted Harley, the motorcycle, and his four powerful pistons. On the outside lane, Nervy Swervy had a chopper on a three-wheel wonderbike. And Sir Winston Cheepthreel sedately starts his single cylinder scooter. And they're flying wheel to wheel to wheel. But wait, now Harley powers his way into an early lead. And as they come around the first turn, head-a-chopper takes command. And now they hit the base of Reck McHill. They climb up, up over and down. All three bikers are obviously shook up by this torturous terrain. And here we go, Harley grabs the lead again, with Sir Winston close behind. Oh, look at this. Oh, Harley's taking a spill. But he's okay. What's this? Sir Winston is out of gas? No win. But wait, one, no two, no three tires go flat. That's a big praise without a winner. Stop! Stop! Please, horse. Stop! Stop! Cowboy, I'm SuperSign. I think I can help you. You need the sign for the word S-T-O-P. The sign is stop. Stop! In this program, we have introduced you to Deaf literature through its plays, poetry, and even television shows. But you've only had a taste. New technologies are making it increasingly easier to record and preserve the growing body of Deaf literary works. Soon, more and more of you will be able to see and appreciate these literary accomplishments.