Adventures in Communication
I hope to share more formally about our adventures in communication with June, specifically the use of American Sign Language, verbal speech development, and her assistive communication device. However, for a few months I’ve been savoring some much needed rest and protecting a “margin” against over-busy-ness in my life and that of the kids, which has led to postponing blogging. This little scene was too enjoyable not to share though. This is a little of the linguistic fun we are having over at the Safari House:
The kids and I arrived at the speech therapy floor of the hospital for the last appointment slot of the day. Only one other family was there- a mother, father, a preschool-aged girl and an infant. My phone had died so I said to the father, “Could you tell me what time it is?” gauging his reaction to see if he understood English. When I saw his uncertain expression I signed TIME as I repeated my question, since pointing to your wrist is a pretty universal gesture.
“Ah, yes!” He said. “Four……forty five?” he said. I thanked him and we turned our attention to the kids, who were hoping to play together. Rowan invited the girl into the playhouse he and June occupied:
“Would you like to sit?” he said repeatedly to her.
The girl was uncertain as her father walked with her to the playhouse, whispering to her to say “hola.” I mentally dusted off my Spanish and attempted to translate Rowan’s question.
“Rowan, tell her ‘quieres sentar?'” I said.
“Um, can you tell her?” he replied. But the girl and her father were excited about this development nonetheless. In our short time together, we all proceeded to have a conversation of comical multi-lingual proportions.
“How…..she is old?” the father asked in English.
“Three years old in….” I attempted in Spanish. “Octobrie? Octiobray? Um, October.” I said.
June began signing in ASL about the family’s infant daughter, and I attempted to translate this into Spanish.
“She uses the language of the hands,” was my best try at saying ‘she signs’ in Spanish. I didn’t know the Spanish word for “bee” so my attempts to explain that June liked the bee on their child’s rattle were not fruitful.
To add to the fun, June pointed to a sign (as in a printed notice, not an ASL sign) on the play area that I had reviewed with her earlier.
“What does that say?” she signed (as in ASL sign not a printed notice) while I was speaking with the mother. The notice was written in both English and Spanish, and in hopes of including everyone in the conversation, I signed ASL while I read the English then signed the ASL again while trying to get the vowel sounds right in the Spanish.
At one point, June was admiring the infant’s pink shoes, and I hoped I learn the Spanish word for “pink.”
In Spanish I said, “How do you say…..these shoes are…..” and at this point I realized I forgot the Spanish word for “color” since the similar ‘calor’ means ‘hot’ so I signed COLOR in ASL which was not helpful at all. So I continued in Spanish, “like….red, orange, blue….” signing the words simultaneously for June.
“Oh,” the father said, pointing to the shoes. “Rosado.”
“Rosado is ‘pink’ in Spanish,” I said and signed for June.
When we parted, we adults said our farewells in Spanish with English words throw in, their little girl had warmed up to her new friends and held Miles’ face lovingly for several seconds as a goodbye, and June surprised us all by piping up with her ever-growing speech skills and saying in Spanish, “Adios!”
Posted on December 19, 2016, in American Sign Language, Blogging, Hospital life, Kids, Medically complex, Quote, Safari house, Special Needs, Tracheostomy and tagged bilingual, nonverbal, speech therapy, total communication. Bookmark the permalink. 1 Comment.