Signs from the silent world

New Zealand is a late starter in recognising sign language in its own right. Family members and friends struggled as best they could to interpret for the deaf.

Ten years ago you could count the number of trained sign language interpreters on three fingers. They were among graduates from a lone, four-month course in sign language interpretation in 1985. Those three signers worked for years as professional interpreters, carrying the burden of work throughout New Zealand as best they could.

Between them, they turned up in court, at doctors and lawyers’ appointments, at hospital, counselling, Social Welfare, interviews, anywhere their deaf clients needed back-up when communicating with the hearing world.

Deaf students who wanted to attend university or polytechnics were out of luck. The interpreters simply could not extend their hours to attend lectures.

But in the 90s that began to change. One of the original three interpreters, Rachel Locker McKee, arrived back from the United States in 1992 with a doctorate in applied linguistics, specialising in sign language. Since then, she has been running the country’s first tertiary course, the diploma in sign language interpretation at the Auckland Institute of Technology.

Eight interpreters graduated from the first two-year course and now another 11 are coming through. While the diploma course can take 15 students, the problem is finding enough hearing applicants with a reasonable level of sign language.

Locker McKee expects all of her graduates to be fully employed, such is the burgeoning demand for sign interpreters.

As more deaf people expect equal access to tertiary education, sign interpreters will need to sit on lectures and tutorials.

Under the Human Rights Act the deaf clearly have the right to equal access to education. The Todd Report supports that right and indeed, universities and polytechnics are vocal in their support for students with disabilities.

But who pays for the interpreters is a vexed question.

Locker McKee points out that building access ramps for the physically disabled is relatively easy and a one-off expense. Paying for an interpreter on a hourly rate of between $25 and $30 is another matter.

The question leaves bulk-funded polytechnics and universities with a dilemma. They say they cannot afford to hire sign language interpreters for every deaf student and that there has been no extra funding from the Ministry of Education.

Few deaf students are on campuses but institutions are preparing for an influx.

Massey University has had three deaf students on its Albany campus this year. Sign interpreter Tamina Norman-Kelly works 21 hours at Massey, attending lectures and tutorials with the students.

When the student’s grant from Workbridge ran out during the last semester, the university paid $5000 to cover the cost of the interpreter. This semester the university has agreed to contribute another $4600 but considers the top-up an interim measure.

Massey University spokesman Geordie Cassin says a national policy covering all tertiary education providers is needed so that disabled students transferring from one institution to another know what to expect.

Cassin says the university is committed to supporting disabled students but money is tight across the tertiary sector.

Massey has made a computer available to deaf students, lecturers’ notes where possible and extramural study guides but students understandably want to attend lectures.

Deaf students have expressed fears to their interpreters that their funds will be cut off and they will be told to go home and study from books. They argue that they have as much right to attend lectures as hearing students. An additional problem is that some deaf people do not read English well. Sign language has a sentence structure which is more like French than spoken English, so reading books or notes is like reading in a second language.

Likewise Auckland University has provided limited interim funding but argues strongly that resources should come from the ministry. The university has allocated $20,000 a year for all students with disabilities. That money is managed by disability co-ordinators James and Sherilene Arkwright, who work closely with the students.

When one deaf student could easily go through between $15,000 and $18,000 a year using an interpreter, the allocation does not go far.

Deaf students at Auckland have a paid note-taker to cover lectures and an interpreter is hired for tutorials where possible.

To date the funding argument is locked in a stalemate. Apart from the tertiary sector continuing to lobby, the New Zealand University Students’ Association this month presented a petition to Parliament asking for extra resources for disabled tertiary students.

The ministry is firm on its policy. Under bulk funding it says educational institutions are responsible for the funding of all students on campus, including those who are deaf or hearing-impaired.

In the meantime this minority profession is beginning to organise itself into a group. They are paying more attention to working conditions, pay rates, and sharing information about the risks of occupational overuse syndrome (OOS), formerly called repetitive strain injury.

For some, those precautions come too late. The constant stress of being a full-time interpreter in a region without backup has rebounded on the private lives of some interpreters and their health.

Tamina Norman-Kelly allowed her work to take over her lifestyle back in the 1980s. With two deaf parents, she grew up as a signer and it was a natural step to take up interpreting as a career. Then living in Perth, she was constantly on the run, skipping meals, buried in paperwork when she got home, signing for hours at a stretch. She developed chronic pain in her hands and arms to the point where she could no longer brush her long hair. Eventually she was forced to stop working for two years.

At first doctors diagnosed OOS. Later they suggested she move to a colder climate, improve her diet and ease the stress. She did just that, arriving in Auckland three years ago.

Since then, despite working up to 50 hours a week as a sign interpreter, she has suffered no discomfort. The crewcut has grown back to a long length and Norman-Kelly is now disciplined about taking regular breaks. She insists on a 10-minute break every hour when interpreting lectures at Massey.

She admits she has to be firm with herself to insist on the breaks. Not everyone is assertive enough to interrupt a lecture room full of hundreds of students. Other interpreters say that often they keep going.

The stress of being one of the country’s three professional interpreters for so many years took its toll on Megan Mansfield, who worked for the Deaf Association in Christchurch, covering the South Island on her own for eight years. It took a determined decision to change her lifestyle and a move to Auckland before she could occasionally put herself before the needs of deaf clients.

Mansfield has suffered OOS periodically throughout her 11 years as an interpreter. She’s had physio and acupuncture, has learned to put her arms down while she is listening, and to relax and flex her hands.

Mansfield, like other interpreters, talks of the psychological pressure she always feels under to turn up and perform. Now working for the Kelston Deaf Education Centre, she job shares with another interpreter.

For Linda Prouse, the third original interpreter, the stress of full-time sign language interpretation eventually forced her to end her career. After the 1985 course Prouse based herself in Auckland, covering a large region of deaf clients.

When Locker McKee left for America, Prouse covered much of the North Island. Then Mansfield took a year’s maternity leave, which meant Prouse flew all over the country to cover court hearing as well as interpreting for her North Island clients.

She had an operation for Carpal Tunnel Syndrome in her hand, wore arm braces and had daily physiotherapy for OOS. Plagued by constant pain, Prouse cut down her hours, then left the Deaf Association and worked as a freelance interpreter.

After 10 months of pain she was forced to stop working and spent eight months on accident compensation. During that time she sat her real estate exams and now works as a real estate agent on the North Shore.

Philip Saffery, manager of interpreting systems for the Deaf Association says the growing demand from deaf students mainstreamed into educational institutions place a strain on existing resources.

“One student could take 16 hours a week of an interpreter’s time. That’s one interpreter not available for non-educational community needs.”