ds_0027_lentzlectureperformance_cap_01.mp4

ds_0027_lentzlectureperformance_cap_01.mp4

Evolution of a Deaf poet

Lentz, Ella Mae

Deaf Poetry

American Sign Language

American poetry 20th century

Deaf, Writings of the, American

ASL poetry

The lecture covers significant events and changes in Lentz's life and poetry in both English and American Sign Language. In particular, Lentz explains her youthful fascination with language and theatre. This developed through experiences with her Deaf parents and Deaf community as well as early National Theatre of the Deaf performers. She shares her analysis of ASL storytelling and ASL narratives, categorizing them and describing their purpose. In her analysis of ASL poetry, she performs and discusses her works "Fuchsias" and "Travels with Malz." Next, Lentz performs and discusses the context of several of her ASL poems. The poems Lentz performs are: "Eye Music," "Silence, Oh Painful," "The Dogs," "The Glass Wall," "Signing Is Like a Tree," "Wedding Poem" (later evolved to a poem titled "Circle of Life"), "Untitled Poem" (later evolved to a poem titled "The Door"), "To a Hearing Mother," and "Children's Garden."

National Technical Institute for the Deaf

Rochester Institute of Technology - RIT Libraries - RIT Archive Collections

Miriam and Kenneth Lerner ASL Poetry Collection

National Deaf Poetry Conference (1987 National Technical Institute for the Deaf)

1987

2018

moving image

mp4

VHS

51 minutes

American Sign Language

English

RITDSA.0027

Sculptures in the Air: An Accessible Online Video Repository of the American Sign Language (ASL) Poetry and Literature Collections

Miriam and Kenneth Lerner ASL Poetry Collection

2018-2019 CLIR Grant-ASL Poetry and Literature

https://albert.rit.…

https://archivesspa…

New York - Rochester

Henrietta Campus

RIT Libraries makes materials from its collections available for educational and research purposes pursuant to U.S. Copyright Law. You are free to use this Item in any way that is permitted by the copyright and related rights legislation that applies to your use. It is your responsibility to obtain permission from the copyright holder to publish or reproduce images in print or electronic form.

CC BY-NC-ND: Attribution NonCommercial NoDerivatives 4.0 International

...AND SHOW YOU WHAT
SOME OF MY POEMS HAVE BEEN

THAT I'VE CREATED.

I'D REALLY LIKE TO LET YOU KNOW
I'M VERY NERVOUS

BECAUSE SOME OF THE POEMS,
I HAVEN'T REALLY

FULLY CONNECTED WITH,
I HAVEN'T FULLY MEMORIZED,

BUT I'VE BEEN PRACTICING
AND I FEEL FAIRLY COMFORTABLE,

SO, I HOPE ALL GOES WELL.

THE FIRST POEM I'D LIKE TO START
WITH IS CALLED..."EYE MUSIC."

AND I'D LIKE TO EXPLAIN
A LITTLE BIT ABOUT THAT.

WHEN I WAS GROWING UP,
MY PARENTS USED TO TRAVEL

AND WE USED TO ALL GO CAMPING
IN DIFFERENT PLACES,

AND I REALLY LOVED
TO LIE ON MY PARENTS' LAP

AND LOOK OUT THE WINDOWS
AT THE--AT THE TELEPHONE WIRES

AS THEY WENT BY.

IF YOU LOOK AT ONE PLACE,
YOU CAN SEE THEM DIP AND GROW

AND UP AND DOWN,

AND I LOVED TO WATCH THEM.

AND MUCH LATER,
I WOULD RIDE ON TRAINS,

AND THE SAME PHENOMENON
WOULD OCCUR,

AND I DECIDED TO WRITE A POEM.

AND I WROTE THIS POEM
IN ENGLISH FIRST.

AT THAT TIME,
I COULDN'T WRITE IN ASL,

UNTIL FINALLY, I SAW SOMEONE
SIGNING AND WRITING IN ASL,

AND I DECIDED
TO USE THAT METHOD,

AND I DECIDED TO WRITE A POEM
ABOUT THAT EXPERIENCE.

EYE MUSIC.

IT'S THE EYE MUSIC
OF THE TELEPHONE WIRES,

LIKE MUSIC SHEETS WITH LINES

THAT RISE AND QUIVER

AND SWAY AND LOWER

ALONG WITH THE PASSING
OF SPACE AND TIME.

NO EARS NEEDED TO HEAR,

NOR ANY--NOR ANY
INSTRUMENTS TO PLAY.

EYES ARE THE EARS, AND THE PIANO
AND THE FLUTE ARE THE WIRES.

AND THE OCCASIONAL POLE
IS THE DRUM.

BOOM, BOOM.

HERE IS ONE
BOLD, WANDERING WIRE,

AND NOW HERE ARE 5 DANCING,
HIGH AND LOW,

IN TURNS WITH POLES.

THEN 5 DISAPPEARING
INTO ONE AGAIN

AND THEN A CROWD OVERLAPPING

QUICKLY AND THEN SLOWLY.

SO BEAUTIFUL
TO THE EYE AND HEART.

ONE WONDERS--
WHAT HAPPENS INSIDE?

[APPLAUSE]

OK. NEXT POEM IS CALLED
"SILENCE, OH, PAINFUL."

IT'S ONE OF MY EARLIEST
ASL POEMS I WROTE.

I WAS HAVING A RELATIONSHIP
WITH A MAN AT THE TIME,

AND HE WAS ALSO DEAF, AND WE
COULD COMMUNICATE QUITE WELL,

BUT WE HAD SOME
TERRIBLE DISPUTES,

AND AFTER THAT,
THE MAN WOULD WALK AROUND

IN THE SAME SPACE
IN THE SAME ROOM

IN THE SAME HOUSE WITHOUT
SPEAKING TO ME ALL DAY,

AND IT MADE ME MAD.

LIKE A WALL WAS BETWEEN US.

AND I DECIDED
TO WRITE THIS POEM.

AND I FOCUS ON HAND SHAPES
AND PLACEMENT.

SILENCE, OH, PAINFUL.

KNOWING HE HAS SOMETHING TO SAY

BUT DON'T KNOW WHAT,

AND KNOWING I HAVE
SOMETHING TO SAY

BUT DON'T KNOW HOW.

LOOKING INTO HIS EYES,
A WALL FORMS BETWEEN US.

NO MORE EYES PASSING
INVISIBLE WORDS.

NO MORE QUIET HEART
MESSAGES, EXCHANGES.

TOUCHING HIM,
GOOSEBUMPS ON MY ARMS.

NO MORE TIGHT HANDCLASPS.

NO MORE WARM EMBRACES.

WHEN HE GOES, HE VANISHES.

NO MORE GETTING
LETTERS SIGNED, "LOVE."

NO MORE SETTING ASIDE
THINGS TO SHARE.

WHY? WHY?

SILENCE.

[APPLAUSE]

NEXT POEM IS CALLED "THE DOGS."

THERE'S A LITTLE STORY
BEHIND THIS POEM.

THERE ARE TWO DEAF ORGANIZATIONS
IN MY HOME AREA,

AND BOTH OF THEM ESTABLISHED

JUST 5 OR 6 MILES
FROM EACH OTHER.

VERY CLOSE, BUT THEY HAVE
SUCH DISPUTES, AND THEY WRANGLE,

BECAUSE ONE OF THE DEAF GROUP

THAT HAS VERY
FORMALLY ESTABLISHED,

VERY BUSINESSLIKE, AND THEY'RE
A DEAF AGENCY.

AND THEY'VE PROGRESSED
QUITE WELL.

BUT THE OTHER IS
KIND OF A LOW-GRADE,

KIND OF PARTY KIND OF GROUP.

VERY DEAF, VERY CULTURALLY DEAF,
VERY COMFORTABLE,

WHILE THE OTHER OFFICE
IS SO PRISTINE.

SO, THIS OTHER GROUP DECIDED

TO ESTABLISH
THEIR OWN ORGANIZATION,

VERY CASUAL, BUT THEY WRANGLED
ABOUT MONEY.

HAD THIS DISPUTE.

AND THE PROGRAM
WAS DESTROYED IN THAT WAY.

AND I WROTE THIS
CALLED "THE DOGS" BECAUSE

I THOUGHT THIS ONE STAFF
WAS LIKE MUTTS

AND THE OTHER STAFF
SOUNDED LIKE A DOBERMAN.

[PERSON LAUGHS]

SO, THAT'S A CONDENSED VERSION

OF THE STORY BEHIND THIS POEM.

THE DUST SETTLES.

TWO DOGS SIT FACING EACH OTHER.

ONE, A DOBERMAN.

SHARP BEARD, SLEEK,
BRILLIANT, SUCCESSFUL.

THE OTHER'S A MUTT.

SLOPPY, DIRTY,
ILLITERATE, TOUGH.

BETWEEN THEM, A CHAIN.

AT BOTH ENDS, THEY HAVE
CHEWED DESPERATELY,

TUGGED AND TUGGED
AT EACH OTHER,

VIOLENTLY RUNNING AROUND,

BUT STILL NOTHING.

THEY'RE BOUND.

THEY SIT
FACING EACH OTHER, GROWLING,

AND THE DOBERMAN SAYS,
"UNFORTUNATELY,

"WE ARE DOGS ALIKE,
BUT WE DO NOT ASSOCIATE.

I RESENT YOUR PRESENCE,
YOU LOWLY ANIMAL."

[LAUGHTER]

AND THE MUTT SAYS,
"YOU HIGH AND MIGHTY SNOB.

"I HATE YOUR GUTS.
I DON'T NEED YOU.

"I'D KILL YOU IF I COULD, BUT

"IF HE'S DEAD,
I'D HAVE TO DRAG HIM.

AWW. DAMN CHAIN.
DAMN CHAIN."

BUT...WAIT.
WHY DO WE HAVE THAT CHAIN?

YES. WHAT DOES IT MEAN?

CHAIN. COOPERATION.
CONNECTEDNESS.

CREATES FREEDOM.

[APPLAUSE]

YOU NOTICE THE "F" HAND SHAPES?
I WAS PLAYING WITH THAT.

THEY CAME TOGETHER--
THE CHAIN,

COOPERATION, FREEDOM.

OK, NEXT POEM IS CALLED
"THE GLASS..." "THE GLASS WALL."

THIS POEM I WROTE IN DEDICATION
TO TWO WOMEN.

ONE WAS HEARING
AND THE OTHER WAS DEAF.

BOTH WORKED WITH THE TV
AND NEWS STATION

IN CALIFORNIA, IN MY AREA.

THEY HAD A VERY
SUCCESSFUL ORGANIZATION,

AND I RESPECT BOTH OF THEM
VERY WELL

IN--IN THE WORLD.

BUT--AND AT THAT TIME,
THE HEARING WOMAN,

RIGHT BEFORE THIS,
SHE DECIDED TO

START DEVELOPING DMI
FOR THE DEAF,

AND THEY WOULD PUBLISH--
THEY WOULD SEND OUT

NEWS AT 5 EVERY 5 MINUTES.

ONCE A WEEK, THEY WOULD DO
A 5-MINUTE NEWSCAST

ABOUT WHAT WAS GOING ON
IN THE WORLD TO THE DEAF.

AND EVERY NIGHT, THEY'D HAVE
THIS 5-MINUTE SEGMENT CALLED

"THE GLASS WALL," BECAUSE--
IT WAS A GREAT IDEA, BECAUSE

THEY SAW THAT DEAF PEOPLE
WERE VERY MUCH THE SAME

AS HEARING PEOPLE, BUT OFTEN

THEY COULDN'T COMMUNICATE
WITH HEARING PEOPLE,

AS IF THERE WAS A GLASS WALL

BETWEEN THE DEAF
AND THE HEARING.

THIS STYMIED COMMUNICATION THAT
PEOPLE COULDN'T PASS THROUGH.

AND ALSO, THEY EXPLAINED THAT

THIS DEAF SIGN LANGUAGE
IS REALLY GREAT BECAUSE

SUPPOSE YOU'RE IN A TRAIN
AND YOU'RE TRYING TO

COMMUNICATE TO SOMEONE
OUTSIDE THE TRAIN.

YOU CAN JUST DO SO
RIGHT THROUGH THE WINDOW,

BECAUSE YOU CAN SEE EACH OTHER.

HEARING PEOPLE CAN ONLY SAY,
"GOOD-BYE, GOOD-BYE,"

AND WAVE GOOD-BYE
OVER AND OVER AGAIN.

BUT--AND THE GLASS WALL
IS A BARRIER ALSO

BETWEEN THE DEAF
AND THE HEARING.

SO, THERE ARE
MANY IDEAS FOR THAT.

SO--AND THERE'S ANOTHER MEANING
FOR IT ALSO.

YOU'LL SEE IT WITHIN THE POEM.

SO, THIS POEM IS DEDICATED
TO TWO WOMEN.

THANK YOU, THANK YOU.

THESE ARE GESTURES
FROM OUR HEART

POURING OUT THROUGH
THE GLASS WALL

BECAUSE YOU AND YOU,
BEYOND THE GLASS WALL,

WITH THE FRAME AND EARS,
HAVE SHOWN US

THAT THE WALL
WILL ALWAYS BE THERE,

BUT NOT NECESSARILY
SHADED, OVERLOOKED.

THAT'S WHAT WE THOUGHT.

LIVE NEWS, CAPTIONED?
IMPOSSIBLE.

WAS POSSIBLE.

INTERPRETER, FULL-SCREENED?
IMPOSSIBLE.

IS POSSIBLE.

OUR OWN DEAF NEWSCASTER
IS IMPOSSIBLE.

IT IS POSSIBLE.

THAT, WITH THE GLASS WALL,

WITH THE FRAME AND THE EARS,

WE COULD SHOW ALL
WHAT WE ARE REALLY LIKE,

AND WHAT WE REALLY NEED,

AND NO MATTER WHAT,
THE WALL IS THERE.

PEOPLE BEYOND AND PEOPLE BEHIND

CAN REACH OUT TO EACH OTHER
OVER IT.

THANK YOU.
THANK YOU.

[APPLAUSE]

THE NEXT POEM IS ENTITLED
"SIGN IS LIKE A TREE."

IT'S A LITTLE BIT
OF A POLITICAL POEM.

IT'S ONE OF MY
EARLIEST POLITICAL POEMS
THAT I WROTE IN ASL.

AND YOU CAN WATCH
AND YOU CAN SEE MANY--

MANY SIGNS AND MANY IDEAS THAT
RELATE TO THE DEAF EXPERIENCE.

SIGN IS LIKE A TREE.

ONCE, LONG AGO,
THERE WAS A DRY SEEDLING,

INCONSEQUENTIAL, PRESSED INTO
THE DARKNESS,

HIDDEN IN THE MIDST OF THE DIRT
OF BARE FIELDS.

FOR YEARS, IT LAY GERMINATING,

AND THEN, SPROUTS SHOT UP,

AND THEN ANOTHER,
AND THEN MORE.

BRANCHES EMERGED AND BLOSSOMED.

THE TREE BECAME
UNIQUE AND LOVELY,

NATURAL, CREATIVE, EXPRESSIVE.

AND THEN STRUCTURES BEGAN
TO ENCROACH ON THE TREE.

CIVILIZATION BEGAN
TO SURROUND IT.

NEW TREES WERE SOWN
IN CULTIVATED ROWS,

PERFECTLY TRIMMED AND BORING.

BUT PEOPLE SAY THESE
SEQUENTIAL TREES ARE PERFECT.

PEOPLE SAY THIS TREE
IS NOT PERFECT.

PEOPLE SAY THIS TREE DOES NOT
FIT IN WITH THEIR PLANS.

PEOPLE SAY IT'S UNBECOMING.

PEOPLE SAY IT'S A GOOD IDEA

TO LET THE CHIMP
SWING IN THAT TREE.

PEOPLE SAY IT'S A GOOD IDEA

TO HIDE IT AWAY IN THE FOREST

WHERE NO ONE CAN SEE.

BUT I DISAGREE.
THAT'S NOT THE PLACE.

IT'S BEST TO LET
THE LITTLE GIRL

EMBRACE THE TREE.

LET IT BE STRONG
AND PROUD AND TALL,

REACHING OUT ITS ARMS
FOR ALL TO SEE.

TO SIGN.

[APPLAUSE]

NEXT POEM IS ENTITLED
"THE WEDDING POEM."

I WROTE IT FOR TWO
CHRISTIAN FRIENDS OF MINE

WHO ARE BOTH HEARING.

THEY'RE VERY GOOD
FRIENDS OF MINE.

AND WHEN THEY BECAME MARRIED,

THEY ASKED ME TO WRITE
A POEM FOR THEM.

I THOUGHT ABOUT IT
FOR A LONG TIME

AND I REALIZED THEY BOTH HAD
A VERY STRONG FAITH IN JESUS.

AND AFTER I THOUGHT
ABOUT IT FOR A WHILE,

I CAME UP WITH THIS POEM
THAT I THOUGHT

BLENDED WITH THEIR BELIEFS
ALONG WITH MY BELIEFS ALSO.

SO, THIS IS A POEM
ESPECIALLY FOR THEIR WEDDING.

AND THIS POEM USES STARS
AND SHAPES AND CIRCLES

AND ALL DIFFERENT SYMBOLS.

IN THE BEGINNING, GOD CREATED

THE HEAVENS AND THE EARTH,

AND THE EARTH BEGAN TO TURN.

FIRST THE SUN AND THEN THE MOON

SPILLED THEIR LIGHT
ONTO THE PLANET,

AND THE OCEANS SWELLED.

MOUNTAINS ROSE FROM THE EARTH

AND GREEN SPROUTED
FROM THE SOIL.

SEA CREATURES SPLASHED
THROUGH THE WATERS

AND ANIMALS DANCED ON THE LAND

AND THE WINGED
DIPPED INTO THE AIR.

FROM GOD'S HAND CAME ONE HUMAN,
THEN ANOTHER.

THEY MET TOGETHER IN GRACE,

AND THEN FROM GRACE THEY FELL

INTO RIVALRY,
INJURY, CONTENTION,

HOSTILITY, VINDICTION, REVENGE,

AND THROUGHOUT THE EARTH,
THERE WAS YEARNING AND HUNGER,

FEAR, RAGE, AND WAR.

THEY KILLED ONE ANOTHER
UNTIL BLOOD RAN THE WORLD.

THEN, INTO THE CHAOS,
GOD REACHED DOWN HIS HAND

TO PRESERVE HIS CREATION.

WITH HIS OWN SWEAT AND BLOOD,

HE BLESSED THEM.

AND THE BLESSING SPARKED

TWO FLAMES OF HOPE

THAT BURNED TOGETHER,

BUILDING TOWARDS GRACE AGAIN,

AND THE ULTIMATE SACRIFICE

FORGED THE RINGS THAT WED THEM,

AND THEIR WEDDING
SHED A BRIGHTER LIGHT

OF GRACE AND LOVE RESTORED.

PRAISE BE TO GOD.

[APPLAUSE]

THE NEXT POEM HAS NO TITLE.

I HAVEN'T COME UP WITH ONE
THAT I'VE DECIDED IS PERFECT.

MAYBE AFTER YOU ALL
SEE THE POEM,

YOU CAN HELP ME OUT.

AGAIN, IT'S A BIT OF
A POLITICAL POEM...

AND NOTICE THE RHYTHM IN IT.

OUT OF THE DARKNESS OF TIME

ROSE THE MURMUR...

OF THE MILLIONS,

EXCEPT FROM ONE,
ODDLY DIFFERENT.

THE CROWD STARED AND CRIED OUT,
"DEAF."

DOORS SLAMMED,
SENTENCING SEPARATION.

BLOCKING IN ISOLATION.

SO THEY THOUGHT.

UNTIL THE ONE FOUND ANOTHER.

DEAFNESS A BOND,

NOT A BARRIER.

MORE JOINED US AS WE DISCOVERED
OUR ARTICULATE HANDS

AND WE TALKED IN RELIEF
IN OUR FREEDOM OF SIGNS.

WHEN STORMED BY
ANTHEM-DRIVEN SOLDIERS,

PITCHED TO FEVER BY THE STRENGTH
OF THEIR REGIME.

FOLLOW ME.

LINE UP.

NOW SIT.

THE CAPTAIN
WITH HIS WHIP IN HAND

INFLICTS HIS SENTENCE--SPEAK.

SPEAK. SPEAK.

DAMN YOUR CHAINS.

WE'LL PRONOUNCE
OUR OWN DELIVERANCE

AND LOCK YOU OUT FROM LIVES
YOU WILL NOT DOMINATE.

THEN IN THE SPACE
OF OUR SILENCE,

WE GRANT EACH OTHER SANCTUARY,

SPEAKING EASILY IN THE LANGUAGE
THAT IS OURS,

WHEN, AGAIN, THERE WAS
A POUNDING FROM BEYOND.

A POUNDING.

DON'T ANSWER, DON'T OPEN.

THE POUNDING WAS INSISTENT.

BUT I WONDER.
I DON'T KNOW.

I JUST WANT TO SEE.

AND SO, STEP BY STEP,
WE SUCCUMB,

OUR SILENT AGREEMENT UNDONE.

[NASAL VOICE] I WOULD LIKE
TO WELCOME YOU ALL

TO COME OUT OF YOUR
DARK AND SILENT WORLD

AND JOIN US IN OUR
BRIGHT AND LOVELY WORLD.

[LAUGHTER AND APPLAUSE]

THOSE WHO HEAR SIGNING,

YES, BUT SUCH QUEER SIGNS
THEY SHAPE.

WHAT WAITS OUT THERE?
PERHAPS THERE'S SOMETHING
WE SHOULD SEE.

BE CAREFUL.
COULD IT BE

THEY NOW HAVE
DIFFERENT STRENGTHS?

CAUTIOUSLY, WE WALK FORWARD

INTO THE STERILE,
NARROW CORRIDORS.

THE UNKNOWN MAZE SEEMS ENDLESS.

AND IT IS CONSTRICTING US.

WE TRY TO RUN, RETREAT,

BUT WE CANNOT FIND THE SAFETY

OF OUR SANCTUARY.

AND SO, WE WALK ALONE,

NOT KNOWING,

AND THE PRESSURE STIFLES US

UNTIL IT LIGHTS
WITH THE BRIGHTNESS

OF SOMEONE BECKONING.

BURNS FALL AWAY AS WE FIND
OURSELVES RELEASED.

THERE SOON WILL COME A TIME

WHEN WAR GIVES WAY TO PEACE,

WHEN WHAT WAS MISCONSTRUED
IS COMMUNICATED

AND ENEMIES BECOME FRIENDS.

GUNS ARE BEATEN
INTO PLOWSHARES.

THIS SOON WILL COME TO PASS.

[APPLAUSE]

NEXT POEM IS CALLED
"TO A HEARING MOTHER."

AND I WANT TO TELL YOU
THE STORY BEHIND THE POEM.

I USED TO WORK IN THE NATIONAL
THEATER FOR THE DEAF,

AND THERE WAS
A INTERNATIONAL ASSOCIATION
OF PARENTS FOR THE DEAF--

OF THE DEAF, WHEN I WAS THERE.

THERE WAS ONE WOMAN WHO WAS
THE MOTHER OF A DEAF BOY,

AND I USED TO WORK
WITH A DEAF MAN MYSELF

WHO HAD GROWN UP ORALLY,
BUT HE COULD SIGN REALLY WELL,

AND THE TWO OF US WENT TO VISIT
THAT OFFICE FOR SOME REASON,

TO BORROW THE TYPEWRITER,
SOMETHING, TO HAVE A DISCUSSION,

AND WHEN WE LEFT, THE WOMAN GOT
SO ANGRY WITH THAT MAN.

THE WAY SHE SCREAMED AT HIM,
IT WAS LIKE

SHE WAS YELLING AT HER OWN SON,

EVEN THOUGH HE WAS AN ADULT.

HE WAS 25 YEARS OLD.
AND THE WAY SHE MANIPULATED HIM

MADE ME SO ANGRY.

I THOUGHT IT WASN'T FAIR,
THAT HOW DARE THIS WOMAN

TREAT THIS ADULT LIKE A CHILD.

I THOUGHT IT WAS DISGUSTING
THE WAY SHE TREATED HIM.

AND...AND WHEN I WALKED
AWAY FROM THAT,

I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TO DO
WITH MY FEELINGS.

I COULDN'T PUT THEM DOWN.

IT GERMINATED IN MY MIND
FOR YEARS.

JUST A FEW MONTHS AGO,
FINALLY, I GOT ANGRY ENOUGH

TO LET IT ALL COME TOGETHER.

THIS IS NOT DIRECTED TOWARDS
THIS MOTHER IN PARTICULAR

BUT TOWARDS ALL HEARING PARENTS
OF DEAF CHILDREN.

YOU AND I ARE OF WORLDS
FAR APART.

OUR LANGUAGES DISSIMILAR,
OUR LIVES ALWAYS DIVERGED.

YOU LIVED YOUR LIFE
UNCONSCIOUS OF US.

YOUR KNOWLEDGE OF DEAFNESS
CONSISTED JUST OF
WORDS OVERHEARD,

THOUGH I LIVED
QUITE AWARE OF YOU.

YOUR WORLD OPPRESSED ME.

AND THEN YOU GREW THE MYSTERY
OF A CHILD AND BORE A BOY.

DEAF. YOU WERE
STUNNED AND DISMAYED.

I, SURPRISED AND DELIGHTED.

COURAGEOUSLY, YOU CARRIED ON,

YEARNING THAT HE GROW UP
IN YOUR KIND.

I COMMEND YOU, BUT YOUR SON

IS LIVING A LIFE LIKE MINE.

HE HAS YOUR EYES, YOUR HAIR.

HE'S PHYSICALLY OF YOU, BUT

HE SHARES MY THOUGHTS,
MY WORLDVIEW AND LANGUAGES.

HE'S SPIRITUALLY OF ME.

HE IS YOUR SON, BUT
HE'S OF MY PEOPLE.

WHO DOES THIS BOY BELONG TO?
YOU OR ME?

THIS CHILD IS LIKE A TREE.

IF NOT FOR MY PEOPLE,
HE WOULD BE HOLLOW,

DECAYING FROM LONELINESS,
EMPTY OF SOUL.

IF NOT FOR YOUR PEOPLE,
THE SEED HAS NO SUSTENANCE,

AND OUR NOBLE PEOPLE,
OUR LANGUAGE WOULD
DIMINISH AND WITHER.

OUR STRUGGLE FOR POSSESSION
IS A SAW THAT SLICES, SPLINTERS,

AND THE SAPLING WILL FALL.

NO. YOU AND I MUST BLEND
OUR NURTURING ENERGIES

AND MERGE INTO THE SOIL
THAT NOURISHES THE TREE

SO THAT HE MAY
GROW TO THE HEAVENS.

[APPLAUSE]

...AND MY FINAL POEM

IS ONE ENTITLED
"CHILDREN'S GARDEN."

YOU KNOW, LIKE KINDERGARTEN.
CHILDREN'S GARDEN.

I'VE--I'VE USED THIS POEM--

I'VE TAKEN A LOT OF EXCERPTS
FROM THE BIBLE

AND INCORPORATED
INTO THIS POEM,

AND INTO IMAGES OF THE SCHOOLS
FOR THE DEAF,

AND THIS IS WRITTEN
FOR THE 25TH CELEBRATION

OF--OF CHILDREN'S SCHOOL--
SCHOOLS FOR THE DEAF,

BECAUSE RECENTLY,
MANY SCHOOLS FOR THE DEAF

HAVE BECOME THREATENED
BY MAINSTREAM PROGRAMS,

AND PERHAPS THIS KIND--
THIS WILL NEVER HAPPEN AGAIN.

SO, I THOUGHT THIS PERFORMANCE
IS VERY IMPORTANT,

AND SO, I'D LIKE TO PERFORM
THE POEM AGAIN FOR YOU.

MANY YEARS AGO IN ISRAEL,

THIS MAN SAID

IT WOULD BE BETTER FOR MAN

THAT A MILLSTONE

WERE HANGING ROUND HIS NECK

AND HE BE CAST INTO THE SEA

THAN FOR HIM TO OFFEND

ONE OF THE LITTLE ONES.

THIS MAN WAS LOGOS.

THE LANGUAGE,
THE COMMUNICATION,

GOD TO US, WE TO GOD,

WE TO EACH OTHER,

HEAVEN AND EARTH UNITED.

BUT THIS MAN WE REJECTED,

KILLED AND CAST INTO A TOMB.

DEAF CHILDREN, ISOLATED.

SCARED, ASHAMED,

SECOND-CLASS CITIZENS
QUIETLY GESTURING.

THEY ARE AS SPECIAL AS FLOWERS,

SOWN ONE BY ONE,

AND THEN SOMEONE SAW

THEY NEEDED TO BE PLANTED,
AND THEY GREW.

EACH ONE BEAUTIFUL--RED, YELLOW,
BLUE, PURPLE, ORANGE.

A PERSON CAME ALONG,

SAW THEY NEEDED LEARNING.

LOVINGLY DID HE REPLANT THEM

IN A GARDEN.

THE DEAF SCHOOL.

SCARED AND SHOCKED.

THEY STARED AT EACH OTHER,

SLOWLY REALIZING THEY ARE
FAMILY OF COMMON LANGUAGE.

BUT...PEOPLE, DISGUSTED,

COULDN'T TOLERATE THEM,

COULDN'T STAND THE COLORS
AND PREFERRING
THE BARENESS ALL AROUND,

THE BULLDOZER ORAL PILLAR
SWEPT OVER THE GARDEN,

IGNORING SOMEONE'S
CRYING OUT IN VAIN.

SMASHED, THE FLOWERS HURTING,

LYING THERE.

OHH.

SOMEONE CAME AND NURTURED THEM

AND THEY BEGAN TO SIGN AGAIN.

AND THE PEOPLE,
THEY COULDN'T TOLERATE IT,

SO, THEY THOUGHT.

THEY ACCUSED THE GARDEN OF
A GHETTO THAT RESTRAINED
THEIR MINDS

AND THEY THOUGHT, "YOU SHALL
BE BROWN, MAINSTREAMED,"

AND THEN ONE DARK NIGHT,

AN ARMY WITH SCYTHES
SNEAKED IN,

ONE BY ONE.

THEY CUT THE FLOWERS
AND DISPLACED THEM,

ALL OF THEM.

THE RED, THE YELLOW.

NO ROOTS TO WITHER AND DIE

UNDERNEATH THE BROWN OPPRESSION.

THE SACRED GARDEN GREW SMALLER.

WAIT. REMEMBER WHAT HE SAID.

IT WOULD BE BETTER FOR A MAN

THAT A MILLSTONE WERE
HANGED AROUND HIS NECK

AND BE CAST INTO THE SEA

THAN FOR HIM TO OFFEND
ONE OF THE LITTLE ONES.

INSPIRATION. WE WILL FIGHT.

BLESSED WITH THE RAIN
AND SUN AND WIND.

SEEDS SPREAD
AND SPREAD AND SURVIVE,

GROWING STRONGER.

MORNING CREEPS IN.

LOOK. THE TOMBSTONE
IS CAST ASIDE.

THIS MAN LIVES.
AND SO,

THIS CHILDREN'S GARDEN
WILL LIVE ON.

[APPLAUSE]

THANK YOU.

OK, NOW WE'RE GONNA TAKE
A 15-MINUTE BREAK.

[APPLAUSE]

IT'S SO EXCITING TO BE HERE.

I'M FINALLY GOING TO SHOW
MY WORK TO ALL OF YOU,

AND IT'S SO INCREDIBLE
TO SEE OTHER PEOPLE'S WORK

DISPLAYED AND SHARED
WITH EACH OTHER.

IT'S UNBELIEVABLE.

I FEEL LIKE THERE'S--I FEEL
LIKE I'M A NEWBORN BABY,

AND IT'S REALLY
EXHILARATING FOR ME.

THE FIRST POEM I'D LIKE TO--

[APPLAUSE]

THANK YOU.

NOW, GOOD MORNING,

AND I'D LIKE TO--
I'M BOTH A TEACHER--

AS YOU CAN SEE, I'M DRESSED
AS A TEACHER--AND A POET.

AND--AND MY VOCAT--AND I'M
GOING TO EXPLAIN ABOUT

MY EVOLUTION AS A POET,

AND WHERE I'VE COME TO TODAY.

I GREW UP ALWAYS FASCINATED
IN TWO THINGS.

ONE OF THEM WAS LANGUAGE
AND THE OTHER WAS THEATER.

I WAS FASCINATED IN BOTH OF
THESE FIELDS ALWAYS.

IT STARTED LONG TIME AGO
WHEN I WAS JUST A LITTLE GIRL.

I WAS ONLY
ONE OR TWO YEARS OLD,

AND MY MOTHER,
WHO WAS ALSO DEAF,

WAS--WAS SO--WAS SUCH
A WONDERFUL TEACHER FOR ME.

SHE'D ALWAYS SIGN
AND EXPLAIN THINGS

AND COMMUNICATE AND TALK TO ME

AND THROW SIGNS AT ME,

AND I'VE HEARD STORIES SINCE
THE TIME I WAS A BABE
IN MY MOTHER'S ARMS.

SINCE I WAS GETTING
THE MILK FROM HER,

I STARTED TO FINGERSPELL "MILK"

AND LEARNING STORIES
FROM MY MOTHER.

ALSO, BERNARD BRAGG
WAS A FAMOUS STORYTELLER

IN THAT SCHOOL FOR THE DEAF
WHERE I WAS.

SO, I SAW, AS MY MOTHER,
HOLDING HER HAND,

AND SHE'D FINGERSPELL
TO ME "TREE"

AND SHOW ME "TREE,"
AND SHE STARTED TEACHING ME

FROM THE TIME I WAS SO LITTLE

THAT IT REALLY AFFECTED ME,

AND THEN WHEN I WAS
ABOUT 3 YEARS OLD,

WE STARTED TO LOOK
AT CHILDREN'S BOOK,

AND MY MOTHER WOULD TELL ME
THE STORIES IN SIGN.

SHE WAS REALLY
A WONDERFUL PERFORMER,

A GIFTED STORYTELLER,

AND SHE'D USE HER MOUTH
AND HER FACIAL EXPRESSIONS,

AND THAT'S WHERE
I'VE GOTTEN THAT ASPECT

OF MY OWN SIGNING FROM.

I'VE INHERITED MY STYLE
FROM MY MOTHER.

SHE WAS SO FULL
OF LIVELY ANTICS

AS SHE TOLD HER STORIES,
HER ACTION STORES,

AND--AND THEN I WOULD
READ THE STORY AND SAY,

"IS THAT WHAT
THE STORY WAS ABOUT?"

THAT'S WHEN I WAS ONLY--
WELL, I WAS VERY YOUNG.

3 OR 4 YEARS OLD, I STARTED TO
DEVELOP AN INTEREST IN READING

BECAUSE OF THAT,

AND BECAUSE OF
MY MOTHER'S STORYTELLING.

I'D CALL HER A STORY PERFORMER.

I WOULD CALL MY MOTHER
A STORY PERFORMER.

I DIDN'T UNDERSTAND THAT
AT THE TIME,

BUT NOW I REALIZE SHE WAS
PART OF THAT CATEGORY OF PEOPLE

WHO WAS REALLY GIFTED
IN STORYTELLING,

AND SHE CAUSED ME
TO BECOME MORE FASCINATED

IN THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE.

A LONG TIME AGO,
WHEN I WAS YOUNG,

I WOULD SAY THE LANGUAGE I HAD

THE MOST FASCINATION FOR
WAS ENGLISH,

AND NOW IT'S BOTH
ENGLISH AND ASL.

WELL, I GREW UP
AND WENT TO SCHOOL.

I HAD OLDER DEAF STUDENTS
WHO WERE VERY GIFTED AT SIGN,

AND THEY WOULD ALSO
TELL STORIES.

WE ALSO HAD MANY ORAL PEOPLE,
BUT NOT TOO MUCH.

WE HAD MUCH MORE MANUAL PEOPLE.

AND WE HAD SOME PEOPLE WHO WOULD
USE A LOT OF WIT IN THEIR SIGNS.

YOU KNOW, AT GALLAUDET COLLEGE,
THEY TEND TO DO THAT.

AND THEY ALSO HAD THAT USE OF
SIGNS IN MY SCHOOL FOR THE DEAF.

MY FAMILY ALSO WENT
TO DEAF CLUBS,

AND WE WENT TO PICNICS,

AND EVERYBODY THERE
WOULD TELL STORIES,

AND I LOVED TO SIT AND WATCH

THESE WONDERFUL STORYTELLERS

AND--AND SEE THE GOSSIP
THAT WENT ON,

SEE HOW PEOPLE
EXPRESSED THEMSELVES.

YOU KNOW, THEY WOULDN'T
LET ME GET TOO INVOLVED
BECAUSE I WAS A KID,

BUT I'D PEEK AROUND THE CORNER
AND GET WHAT I COULD.

BUT MY MOTHER ALLOWED ME
AS BEST SHE COULD

TO LET ME BE INVOLVED,

AND SHE DIDN'T MIND IF I--
IF I BOTHERED HER TOO MUCH.

SO, I LOOKED AS MUCH AS I COULD

AND I WATCHED STORYTELLERS.

EVEN AT NTD, THE NATIONAL
THEATER FOR THE DEAF,

THE FIRST GROUP
INCLUDING BERNARD BRAGG

AND JOE VELEZ AND AUDEN--
AND AUDEN AND NORTON.

THERE WAS THE FIRST
GROUP OF PEOPLE INVOLVED

IN THE NATIONAL THEATER
FOR THE DEAF,

AND THEY WERE FROM MY HOMETOWN,

AND I KNEW
ALL OF THEM PERSONALLY.

AND WHEN I WOULD GO
TO SEE THEM PERFORM

AND DO THEIR ACTING ON STAGE,

I'D ENJOY IT SO MUCH, AND THAT
WAS A POWERFUL INFLUENCE ON ME

WHEN I WAS A CHILD.

SO.

LET ME TELL A LITTLE BIT
OF A STORY.

THAT WAS A LITTLE BIT
OF A STORY OF MYSELF,

AND NOW I'M GOING TO GO BACK
INTO THE ROLE OF TEACHER.

STORYTELLING. WHEN I WAS WRITING
THE ASL CURRICULUM,

WE TRIED TO LOOK AT ART FORM

AND SEE WHAT KIND OF SIGNS
WERE USED IN THAT.

WE FOUND THAT THEY'RE
VERY IMPORTANT--

THE ART FORM HAD
A VERY IMPORTANT ROLE

IN THE DEAF COMMUNITY.

WE CAN EVEN LABEL THAT
A PART OF ASL POETRY,

AND I THINK THAT ART FORM

HAS HAD A VERY--WILL HAVE
A VERY STRONG INFLUENCE

ON ASL POETRY IN THE FUTURE.

WE'VE ALSO ANALYZED
THE WAY THAT SIGNS

ARE NARRATIVES,

ARE COMPARED WITH POETRY,

AND HOW TO UNDERSTAND
THE TWO FORMS BETTER.

NARRATIVE SIGNED STORIES.

AND NARRATIVES ARE DIFFERENT
FROM STORYTELLING.

I HAVE A LIST
OF CHARACTERISTICS

THAT I'VE DEVELOPED
THAT ARE VERY SIMILAR

TO THE KINDS OF THINGS THAT
DEBBIE DEVELOPED YESTERDAY
FOR YOU

ABOUT HER POETRY,

WHEN WE'VE DISCOVERED THINGS
SUCH AS A STORYLINE,

SUCH AS...AND CHARACTER
DEVELOPMENT AND DETAILS.

STORIES ARE VERY CASUALLY TOLD.

YOU CAN BE SITTING AROUND
IN A GROUP TELLING STORIES.

YOU KNOW, HOW DEAF PEOPLE DO,

THEY'RE TELLING SOMETHING THAT
WENT ON IN THEIR LIVES,

WHEREAS THE NARRATIVE...

IS A MORE ADVANCED
USE OF THE LANGUAGE.

IT'S MORE COMPLEX.
IT'S MORE DEVELOPED.

PEOPLE IN THE STORYTELLING--
IN THE NARRATIVE GENRE,

PEOPLE TEND TO STAND
IN ONE PLACE,

BUT...AND THEY TEND TO STAND UP

AS OPPOSED TO SIT DOWN,

AND THEY WALK AROUND THE STAGE.

REGULAR STORYTELLING IS USUALLY

SIGNED IN A SMALLER
SIGNING SPACE,

BUT THE--BUT
THE MORE FORMAL NARRATIVE

IS--IS--IS BIGGER,

AND USING A BIGGER SPACE.

STORYTELLING IS USED
TO GIVE INFORMATION,

TO GIVE NEWS, TO TELL PEOPLE

WHAT HAS HAPPENED IN YOUR LIFE,

AND SOMETIMES, PEOPLE
WILL ADD DETAILS

AND EXAGGERATE A LITTLE BIT
TO MAKE IT MORE INTERESTING.

BUT THE NARRATIVE
GENERALLY HAS A LESSON,

A MORAL THAT IT'S
TRYING TO GET ACROSS.

THAT'S ANOTHER POINT OF THE--
OF THE MORE FORMAL NARRATIVE.

STORYTELLING TENDS TO USE

A DIRECT EYE CONTACT
WITH THE AUDIENCE

TO MAKE SURE THAT THE AUDIENCE
IS FOLLOWING WHAT YOU'RE SAYING,

WHILE THE MORE FORMAL NARRATIVE
TENDS TO BE MORE SEPARATI--

MORE SEPARATED.

IT--THE AUDIENCE
IS--IS LESS INVOLVED,

AND THE NARRATOR
HAS MORE CONTROL,

WHEREAS IN REGULAR STORY,
THE AUDIENCE IS

FREE TO INTERRUPT AT ANY TIME.

IN THE MORE FORMAL NARRATIVE,
THE AUDIENCE

REACTS MORE AS AUDIENCE
AND--AND SITS BACK

AND WAITS TO SEE
WHAT WILL HAPPEN.

AND THE NARRATOR THEMSELF
BECOMES THE REACTOR

AND ASKS, "WHAT WILL
HAPPEN NEXT?"

AND ANSWERS THEIR OWN
QUESTION RHETORICALLY.

THERE ARE 4 DIFFERENT
KINDS OF CLASSIFICATIONS

THAT WE'VE DEVELOPED OF
STORYTELLING, THE NARRATIVE.

NUMBER ONE IS PERSONAL STORIES.

THAT'S VERY SIMILAR TO THE
STORIES I WAS JUST EXPLAINING

COMMONLY TOLD WITHIN
THE DEAF COMMUNITY

THAT--THAT DEBBIE WAS
TALKING ABOUT YESTERDAY.

YOU MAY SAY THAT YOUR ROOMMATE
CAME IN AND WENT TO SLEEP

AND THEN ALL OF A SUDDEN,
THERE WAS A BANGING ON THE DOOR,

AND--AND SHE WAS REALLY SCARED

AND SHE THOUGHT
SOMEONE'S HAIR WAS WAVING

AND IT MAYBE WAS A WITCH.

THAT'S A PERSONAL STORY.

BUT WHEN SHE CHANGED THAT STORY

AND MADE IT MORE DRAMATIC
AND WENT ON AND ON

AND SAID--THEN WENT
THE LAYERS OF COVERS

AND THEN TOOK OFF
4 LAYERS OF COVERS OFF

AND EXAGGERATED AND WALKED
BACK AND FORTH ON THE STAGE,

SHE WAS USING WHAT HAD HAPPENED
IN HER PERSONAL LIFE

TO BECOME A NARRATIVE.

[INDISTINCT] ANOTHER STORY,
A PERSON WAS TELLING ABOUT

THEIR DEAF FATHER,

AND WHO BUILT
THE SAN FRANCISCO BRIDGE.

HE MAY TELL THE STORY TO A BOY
AT THE DINING TABLE,

AND THE BOY WILL
WATCH THAT STORY,

AND WHEN LATER HE GROWS UP,
HE MAY DEVELOP THAT STORY

TO BECOME A MORE
FORMAL NARRATIVE

AND USE MORE DRAMATIC
HAND CONFIGURATIONS

AND SAY--AND EXPRESS
HIMSELF LARGER

AND MAKE THE STORY
MORE DEVELOPED.

SO, IN THAT WAY,
HE'S TAKING A PERSONAL STORY

AND MAKING IT INTO
A MORE FORMAL NARRATIVE.

SECOND IS VERY
COMMONLY OCCURRING

IN THE DEAF CULTURE

IS WHEN MY MOTHER
TOLD ME DEAF STORIES,

AND THEN THAT STORY
WAS A PARAPHRASE

OF A WRITTEN STORY,

MEANING SHE'LL TELL A STORY--
SHE'LL READ A STORY,

GET THE IDEA IN HER HEAD,

NOT DO A FORMAL TRANSLATION
OF IT, NO.

THAT'D BE A DIFFERENT PROCESS.

THAT'D BE A VERY
DIFFERENT PROCESS.

YOU WOULD NOT TRANSLATE IT.

MY MOTHER NEVER DID THAT,
I DON'T THINK.

BUT SHE PARAPHRASED THE STORY.

SHE READ THE STORY,

AND THEN LATER TOLD IT
IN HER OWN SIGNS IN ASL.

AND FROM THAT WAY,
I STARTED TO UNDERSTAND

WHAT THE STORY
IN THE BOOK MEANT.

THE SAME AS--
PATRICK ABEL YESTERDAY

TOLD THE STORY
OF THE BLACK CAT.

THEY HEARD THE MEOW,
AND THE RED BRICKS,

AND THERE WAS A POUNDING
BEYOND THE RED BRICKS.

THAT WAS--DID THAT
FOLLOW EXACTLY

WHAT EDGAR ALLAN POE
HAD WRITTEN LINE BY LINE,

A FORMAL TRANSLATION OF THAT?

NO, PATRICK HAD GOTTEN
THE IDEA FROM THAT STORY

AND THEN TOLD IT
IN HIS OWN SIGNS.

THAT COMMONLY OCCURS
IN LITERATURE

IN THE ORAL TRADITION

AND IN PERFORMING.

ADAPTED STORIES NOT OFTEN OCCUR

BUT THEY DO COME UP
ONCE IN A WHILE.

IT'S NOT GENERALLY PERFORMED
ON A STAGE,

BUT IN THE HOME WHERE PEOPLE
ARE TALKING WITH EACH OTHER,

TELLING STORIES.

AN ADAPTED STORY IS

A HEAR--HAS A HEARING
CHARACTER IN IT ORIGINALLY.

FOR EXAMPLE,
THE THREE LITTLE PIGS.

YOU KNOW THE STORY ABOUT
THE THREE LITTLE PIGS
AND THE WOLF

AND THEY HUFF AND THEY PUFF
AND THEY BLOW THE HOUSE DOWN?

WELL, THE THREE LITTLE PIG
HAS BEEN ADAPTED

TO BECOME STORY
ABOUT DEAF PEOPLE,

AND THE WOLF IS--IS HEARING

AND HE'S TRYING TO SAY,
"YOU'RE NOT GOOD ENOUGH,"

AND THEN THE THREE LITTLE PIGS
AT THE END GET THE BEST OF HIM.

AND THE SECOND LITTLE PIG
WHO BUILDS A HOUSE OF--OF WOOD,

AND HE THINKS IT'S GOOD ENOUGH,
AND--AND THE WOLF RUNS

AND--AND BLOWS IT DOWN,
BUT THE ONE PIG

WHO TAKES GOOD CARE AND BUILDS
THE HOUSE VERY CAREFULLY,

THE WOLF CANNOT GET IN,

AND WHEN HE FINALLY GETS--
CLIMBS DOWN THE CHIMNEY

AND GETS BOILED IN THE POT,
THEN THE PIG HAS GOTTEN
THE BEST OF HIM

AND--AND HE'S WON IN THE END,

AND THAT'S BEEN ADAPTED
TO THE DEAF CULTURE,

AND DEAF PEOPLE
FIND IT REALLY AMUSING

WHEN THEY SEE THEIR OWN CULTURE

BECOME ALIVE
IN A STORY LIKE THIS.

SO, OFTEN,
IT'S VERY SPONTANEOUS

HOW PEOPLE DEVELOPED
ADAPTED STORIES.

I DON'T--I HAVEN'T DONE
TOO MUCH OF THIS MYSELF.

MAYBE YOU HAVE MORE EXPERIENCE
THAN MYSELF.

ORIGINAL STORIES ARE INVENTED.

THEY'RE NOT TAKEN
FROM ANY FORMAL LITERATURE

BUT FROM YOUR OWN
PERSONAL EXPERIENCES,

AND--AND ORIGINALLY COME--
ORIGINALLY WRITTEN IN ASL
AS A STORY.

YOU KNOW, THE STORY, PERHAPS,

WHERE A PERSON IS
KNOCKING ON THE DOOR,

LIKE DEBBIE'S STORY
WITH THE WITCH.

SHE HAD THAT CHARACTER.

SHE HAD THAT
PERSONAL EXPERIENCE.

BUT--BUT IT REALLY BECAME
AN ORIGINAL STORY ITSELF

THE WAY SHE ADAPTED IT.

AND SHE USED IT FOR THE PURPOSE

OF TEACHING HEARING PEOPLE
ABOUT DEAFNESS

AND ABOUT HOW DEAF PEOPLE
WOULD NOT BE ABLE TO HEAR

THE KNOCKING ON THE DOOR.

IT'S A VERY CLEAR IMAGE.

ANOTHER--BEN BER--BERNEEN.
BEREEN.

I FORGET THE TITLE OF THE STORY,
BUT HE HAD

A STORY ABOUT A MOTHER
AND A WITCH, AND THE DAUGHTER--

THE LITTLE--A LITTLE
DUCK WAS BORN,

AND THE UGLY DUCKLING,

AND A STORY ABOUT A DUCK
WITH A LONG BEAK

AND A VERY SHORT BEAK,
AND SOMETHING WAS WRONG

WITH THE ONE WITH THE VERY
SHORT BEAK, SO, THEY PUT IT

OFF IN A SCHOOL,
A HANDICAPPED SCHOOL,

BECAUSE HE HAD
KIND OF A BENT BEAK

AND THEY WANTED TO MAKE THEIR
BEAKS BECOME MUCH SMALLER.

AND WITH THEIR--WITH
THEIR WINGS, THEY TRIED TO--

THEY TRIED TO GET FREE,

AND THEY TRIED TO--
WORKED VERY HARD

AT PRACTICING TO MAKE
THEIR BEAKS SMALLER.

THEY DID HAVE AN OPERATION
TO MAKE THE BEAKS SMALLER,

BUT THEY DIDN'T WANT
TO DO SUCH A--

TAKE SUCH A DRASTIC MEASURE,

SO, THEY TRIED TO MAKE IT
SMALLER BY ITSELF.

SO, THEY SANG
AND THEY PECKED AT WOOD

TO MAKE THE BEAK GET SMALLER,

AND THEN THE--THE ONE BIRD
WITH THE--WITH THE LONG BEAK

WOULD MAKE FUN OF THAT ONE

WHO WAS TRYING TO MAKE
HIS BEAK CONFORM,

AND ALL THE DIFFERENT ANIMALS

WOULD MAKE FUN OF IT,

AND--AND THE RABBIT
WOULD FEEL BAD.

[LAUGHTER]

AND THEN LAUGH AT THEM,

LAUGH AT HIM, AND HE
SUFFERED SO MUCH,

AND THE POOR, LITTLE BIRD
WITH THE LONG BEAK AND THE WINGS

WOULD TRY TO FOLLOW THE BIRDS--
THE OTHER BIRDS,

BUT HE COULDN'T, AND FINALLY,
HE HAD AN OPERATION

TO MAKE HIS BEAK
CONFORM LIKE THE OTHERS.

BUT HE STILL FELT LIKE
HE DIDN'T BELONG.

SO, THERE'S A MORAL
IN THAT STORY,

AND I'M SURE YOU ALL KNOW
WHAT'S BEHIND THAT.

BUT THAT STORY IS VERY ACTIVE,

FULL OF ACTION THAT'S BEEN--

THAT'S BEEN CHANGED
AND CREATED TO MAKE IT

A--A FORMAL STORY,

TO MAKE IT A PART
OF DEAF LITERATURE.

THIS--DOES ANYBODY
HAVE A QUESTION?

I'M CURIOUS--DO YOU HAVE
A VIDEOTAPE OF ANY
OF THOSE STORIES?

NO. I'M SORRY.
WE HAVE SHORT, LITTLE SEGMENTS.

THEY'RE IN THE DEAF HISTORY
VIDEOTAPE.

BEN--THAT'S A STORY
FROM BEN VEREEN,

THE STORY ABOUT
THE LITTLE BIRDS.

IT'S A 20-MINUTE PIECE.

HE REALLY GOES INTO
AND TELLS IT

FROM THE BEGINNING TO END.

IT'S A WONDERFUL STORY.

OK, AND NOW, AS A POET,
I WAS REALLY INVOLVED

IN THE DEAF CULTURE
AND DEAF COMMUNITY

AND THE SCHOOL FOR THE DEAF.

AND THEN ONE SUMMER,
WHEN I WAS 14 YEARS OLD,

I WENT--I WAS IN THE SCHOOL
FOR THE DEAF,

AND BERNARD BRAGG AND VELEZ

AND A FEW OTHER OF THE PEOPLE
FROM NTD WERE TEACHING.

THEY WERE TEACHING CREATIVE--

USE OF CREATIVE LANGUAGE
OR WHATEVER.

I FORGET THE TITLE.
IT WAS A LONG TIME AGO.

THE TITLE WAS IN ENGLISH.

PREVIOUS TO THAT,
WHEN I WAS 11 YEARS OLD,

I HAD SEEN THE NATIONAL
THEATER FOR THE DEAF.

THEY HAD COME TO OUR TOWN,

AND THAT WAS A TIME WHEN PEOPLE
WERE JUST BEGINNING

TO BECOME AWARE OF
ALL OF THESE FAMOUS PEOPLE

INVOLVED IN THE NATIONAL
THEATER FOR THE DEAF.

AND I WAS SO FASCINATED WITH THE
GROUP OF PERFORMANCES THEY DID

THAT WERE RELATED TO POETRY.

THEY HAD SKITS, ALSO, BUT I WAS

REALLY FASCINATED
WITH THE POETRY.

BRAGG TOLD A POEM
CALLED "TIGER, TIGER,"

AND THAT'S BY BLAKE.

THAT'S A POEM WRITTEN
BY A FAMOUS ENGLISH POET

NAMED BLAKE.

NOW, WHEN I WENT HOME, I TOOK

SOME OF BRAGG'S LINES
AND TRIED TO COPY HIS STYLE,

AND I'LL GIVE YOU
A FEW LINES FROM IT,

AND THE INTERPRETER
WILL NOT BE VOICING THIS

BECAUSE SHE HAS NO IDEA
OF THE WORDS.

YOU KNOW?
DO YOU KNOW HOW
BERNARD BRAGG DID THAT?

AND ANOTHER ONE

THAT URSULA BELLUGI DID.

BEAUTIFUL.
"HOW DO I LOVE THEE?"

BY ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING.

SOMETHING LIKE THAT.

AND IT WAS SO BEAUTIFUL,

AND THEN THE OTHER PERSON--
JOE VELEZ--

HE PERFORMED "JABBERWOCKY."

THIS WAS WRITTEN
BY LEWIS CARROLL.

[LAUGHTER AND APPLAUSE]

YOU KNOW.
THAT'S A SEGMENT
FROM "JABBER"--"JABBERWOCKY."

I WAS SO FASCINATED WITH
ALL OF THESE PERFORMERS

AND THEIR EXPERTISE THAT
I TRIED TO COPY THEM,

AND I BECAME INVOLVED IN--
I BECAME REALLY EXCITED

ABOUT THE IDEA OF COMBINING
SIGN LANGUAGE AND THEATER.

I DIDN'T KNOW THAT I
CARRIED THAT AROUND WITH ME,

BUT WHEN I WAS AGE 14,
I WAS AT SCHOOL,

AND BERNARD BRAGG CAME
AND VELEZ CAME,

AND THEY WERE SIGNING, THEY WERE
TRYING TO TEACH US HOW TO SIGN

IN A POETIC WAY.

I WAS REALLY ENJOYING
THAT SUMMER CAMP,

AND WE ALSO AT THAT TIME
WERE WRITING POEMS, TOO,

AND WE WERE SHARING THEM
WITH THE OTHERS IN OUR GROUP.

DOES THE LIGHT--
DOES THAT BOTHER YOU,

THE PURPLE COLOR OF MY BLAZER?
GOOD.

THAT POEM, ENTITLED "FUCHSIAS."

I DON'T KNOW
IF YOU HAVE THEM HERE,

BUT IT'S A KIND OF FLOWER,

AND IT DANGLES, IT HANGS,

AND IT HAS LITTLE LOOPS
AND--AND THE STEMS,

AND THE LITTLE ORANGE
PISTONS IN THE MIDDLE

AND--AND THE WHITE
IN THE MIDDLE.

IT'S VERY BEAUTIFUL.
IN MY HOME,

THERE'S SO MANY
OF THIS KIND OF FLOWER,

AND THEY'RE ALWAYS DANGLING,
LOOKING SO LOVELY,

AND I DECIDED TO WRITE
A POEM ABOUT THAT.

AND I THOUGHT
IT WAS REALLY SWEET.

I PUT IT DOWN ON PAPER.

AND IT WAS PUBLISHED
ON THE FRONT COVER

OF THE SCHOOL MAGAZINE
WITH A PICTURE OF FUCHSIAS.

MUCH LATER, I DECIDED TO
TRANSLATE THAT TO SIGN LANGUAGE.

AND I'LL SIGN IT FOR YOU NOW.

AS I LOOK DEEPLY
IN THE EARLY MORNING

ONTO THE LOVELY FUCHSIAS
STILL WET WITH THE NIGHT'S DEW,

WHIRLING, WHIRLING
WITH THE WIND,

THEY REMIND ME
OF MY LOVELY VISION

OF A BUDDING BALLERINA,

WHIRLING WITH THE MUSIC.

[APPLAUSE]

THANK YOU.

SO, THAT WAS VERY SWEET,
AND THEN AFTER THAT PERIOD,

I ENTERED HIGH SCHOOL,

AND...THERE WAS ONE TEACHER
THAT WAS FROM THE SAME SCHOOL

THAT I HAD BEEN IN BEFORE,
AND HE WAS VERY MUCH

AN INFLUENCE ON ME,
NAMED JOE VELEZ.

HE LOVED TO SIGN AND HE WAS
A VERY ROMANTIC SIGNER.

HE WROTE A LOT OF POETRY,
BOTH IN SIGN AND ASL,

AND HE WAS ALSO
A DRAMATIST, TOO.

OF COURSE, I WAS SO FASCINATED
WITH LANGUAGE AND DRAMA

THAT I THOUGHT THE COMBINATION
WAS PERFECT FOR ME

AND MY INTEREST BUILT.

HE TAUGHT ME SO HARD
AND--AND CRITICIZED ME

AND WAS A REAL INSPIRATION.

AND I TOOK A CLASS.
IN FACT, MOST OF MY CLASSES

WERE TAKEN UNDER HIM
AS A TEACHER,

AND HE WAS SO--
SUCH A DEDICATED TEACHER.

I WAS REALLY IMPRESSED.

I AM VERY, VERY GRATEFUL
TO MR. VELEZ.

I WROTE ONE POEM
WHEN I WAS WITH HIM

CALLED "MY TRAVELS
WITH MOUNTS."

AND I HAVE
THE ENGLISH TRANSLATION

THAT THE INTERPRETER WILL READ.

THIS IS--THE NAME
OF THIS TEACHER

THAT WAS SUCH AN INFLUENCE
FOR ME IS NAMED ERIC MALZKUHN.

EVERY DAY I GO TO THE HUMBLE
BUT FRESH SHIP...

AND I FASTEN MYSELF TO THE
SPACE SEAT WHICH YOU PROVIDE,

AND YOU GO TO YOUR SWITCHBOARD

WITH ITS FLASHING LIGHTS,

AND THE COUNTDOWN BEGINS--
3, 2, 1.

BLAST OFF!

OFF WE GO AND WAY OUT
OF THE WORLD'S LIMITS.

INTO THE DEEP SPACE
WE STORE--SOAR,

FOLLOWING THE WILD,
SHOOTING STARS,

AS FREE AS YOUR IMAGINATION.

THRILLED, I SIT THERE,
SOMETIMES TURNING.

YOUR SHIP TOPSY-TURVY
AS I TRY TO HELP.

26-LETTERED WORDS.

COME AND GO.

AS WE DANCE THROUGH SPACE.

DON'T WORRY--
MOST OF THEM REMAIN,

BECAUSE YOU FISH ME IN,
[INDISTINCT] ME.

WE'VE LANDED ON A RICH
PLANET OF BOOKS.

YOU FILL MY ARMS WITH BOOKS
AND LOAD YOUR SHIP, TOO.

IT IS A DOUBT WE NEVER RETURN.

HUFFING AND PUFFING,
WE [INDISTINCT] INTO
THE SPACE ONCE MORE.

AGAIN, WE FOLLOW THE PATH
OF THE ZIGZAGGING STARS

AND SAFELY RETURN HOME,

WITH ME DAZZLED
WITH EXCITEMENT IN [INDISTINCT].

YOU SEE HOW I WROTE THE STAND
AS I USED SPACE,

TO SHOW THE DIFFERENCES
BETWEEN MY IDEAS.

ASL CAN ALSO USE--
CAN ALSO USE SPACE IN THAT WAY.

I HADN'T KNOWN IT AT THE TIME,
BUT I STARTED TO REALIZE THAT--

THAT THE WAY I WROTE THINGS
DOWN ON PAPER

CORRELATED WITH THE WAYS
I THOUGHT OF IT IN SIGN.

OCEAN HUGE AND BLUE
SPREADS OUT IN SPACE,

RIPPLES GETTING
BIGGER AND BIGGER,

WAVES BIGGER AND BIGGER,

SPLASHING ITS HANDS

UPON AN OLD ROCK
RISING UP AND UP.

ON TOP, A TREE,
OLD AND CROOKED,

WATCHES AND MUSES
UPON THE OCEAN.

BOTH CONFLICT, YET BOTH BLEND.

OK, NOW, YOU SEE
THE WAY THE STANZAS

ARE SITUATED UPON THE PAGE--

ONE INDICATING THE OCEAN...

AND HOW IT'S ON THE LEFT
SIDE OF THE PAGE,

WASHING UP ON THE RIGHT SIDE
OF THE PAGE

AGAINST THE OLD ROCK,

AND HOW...

NOW YOU SEE HOW YOU HAVE
TO READ FROM SIDE TO SIDE

AND YOU HAVE TO FIGURE OUT
WHICH WAY YOU WANT TO READ IT.

AT FIRST, I HAD--I PLAYED WITH
DIFFERENT WAYS TO WRITE IT,

BUT I THOUGHT IT DIDN'T WORK
ON PAPER.

NEXT, I TRIED A SIMILAR IDEA,

BUT IN A DIFFERENT WAY.

THIS IS ENTITLED "OH!"

THIS IS CALLED "LOVE SONG."

LOVE SONG SIGNED.

"OH!" YOU SEE HOW
"OH!"S ARE WRITTEN

ON BOTH SIDES OF THE PAPER?

I USE SIMULTANEOUS
MOVEMENT OF MY HANDS

ON EITHER SIDE OF MY BODY.

AND IN THE MIDDLE,
MY HEART BEATS

IN THE MIDDLE OF MY--
OF THE SIGNING SPACE,

AS IN THE MIDDLE OF THE PAGE.

FOR YOU AND I LOVE YOU
MUCH, MUCH, MUCH.

IT'S KIND OF A BIT MUCH,
A LITTLE BIT SICKLY SWEET, BUT--

AND THEN I HAVE PART TWO.

YOU ARE LIKE THE GENTLE RAIN
THAT FALLS ON MY FACE.

YOU ARE LIKE THE SUN
THAT SHINES WARMLY ON MY FACE.

AND BOTH ARE COMING
FROM EITHER DIRECTION.

DID YOU HAVE A QUESTION?

"This project is supported by a Digitizing Hidden Collections grant from the Council on Library and Information Resources (CLIR). The grant program is made possible by funding from the Andrew W. Mellon Foundation."