fbpx

Why I Sign

The #whyIsign movement began as a powerful way for people to share their personal stories and connections to American Sign Language (ASL). It quickly grew into a community of signers—both Deaf and hearing—who celebrate the beauty and importance of ASL in their lives. For me, signing is a bridge to belonging, connection, and understanding. Here’s my story behind why I sign and how ASL has shaped both my personal and creative journeys.

campfire with roasting marshmallows on sticks

I’ll never forget that first summer camp with my Deaf friends. To be honest, I wasn’t even supposed to be there. My dad worked at the place that hosted the camp, and as a rising sophomore in high school, my parents needed somewhere to keep me out of trouble for the summer. So, I ended up spending a month volunteering at this camp for Deaf kids.

I was the only hearing kid there. Talk about awkward. I was supposed to be a helper, but I mostly just hung out with the other campers, trying to blend in (which, spoiler alert, didn’t really happen). They were swapping stories about their hometowns, teasing each other, and pulling pranks while I stood there feeling like I’d landed on a different planet. I had about 50 signs under my belt—just enough to catch bits and pieces of what was being said, but nowhere near enough to join in. The FOMO was intense.

By the end of that first week, I made a decision: I was going to learn their language. I wasn’t just going to be a bystander—I wanted to understand their stories, to be a part of the conversation.

Learning ASL unlocked a new world for me. The stories I witnessed along the way shaped who I am today and led me down a path I never could have predicted.

ASL sign for Interpreter

As I became an interpreter, I started living in the space between two worlds—the hearing world I was born into, and the Deaf world I had grown to love. But here’s the thing: no matter how fluent I became in ASL, I knew I wasn’t really Deaf. I wasn’t part of their lived experience, no matter how much I cared.

It’s a strange place to exist. As an interpreter, you see it all—the joy, the heartache, the triumphs, and the tragedies. You’re there when someone gets fired, or when they have to explain in court why they made a decision that no one else in the room seems to understand. You watch, and you translate, but you don’t intercede. You can’t add your own thoughts or feelings because it’s not your story to tell. But over time, those stories still become part of you.

Sometimes, I feel like a steward of these stories, entrusted with holding them close, even though they aren’t mine. And after 30 years, I asked myself: What do I do with these stories? They’re not mine to share, but they’ve shaped how I see the world. They’ve changed me.

And I can be a voice that says, “Hey, hearing people—there’s a whole community you’re missing out on. And you could be part of it, if you’re willing to learn.”

When people ask me why I sign, I could tell them about my high school camp experience, or the years I’ve spent interpreting in countless situations. But truly, it all comes back to one thing: connection. I sign because I want to bridge the gap between two worlds. I sign because I believe in the power of stories, and sign language is the most beautiful way I know to express them.

Over the years, I’ve seen how learning ASL can change lives—whether it’s a Deaf child finally gaining access to language and the world around them, or a hearing parent realizing that signing with their child opens up a whole new way of connecting. I sign because I’ve witnessed, time and again, how it transforms people’s worlds.

My faith plays a big part in why I’ve stuck with this journey for so long. I believe we’re all here for a purpose, and interpreting became part of mine. “Be who God meant you to be and you will set the world on fire,” said St. Catherine of Siena. For me, that means using the talents I’ve been given—whether through writing or signing—to bridge divides and share stories that matter.

I can’t always share the stories directly, due to confidentiality and ethics, but I can share what I’ve learned along the way. And I can be a voice that says, “Hey, hearing people—there’s a whole community you’re missing out on. And you could be part of it, if you’re willing to learn.”

I’m not an expert on the Deaf experience. But I am someone who can help hearing people understand a little better, who can point parents and educators in the right direction when they’re feeling overwhelmed. I want to live in a world where Deaf children feel proud of who they are, and where hearing people understand the importance of ASL. If I can contribute to that, then I’ll know I’m doing something right.

One thought on “Why I Sign

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Scroll to top