Reading between the signs.

Dear Z,

Okay so maybe we've bought into one more fad. But for us, teaching you sign language isn't just a fad.

When I was a sophomore in college, I spent a summer at Gallaudet University in Washington, DC studying American Sign Language. I was always horrible at foreign languages and after 6 years of French in middle and high school, I still couldn't speak a word of it. I was too terrified to take the proficiency test to try to fulfill my college's foreign language requirement and too lazy to wake up at 8 am 5 days a week to take French 1 all over again. I was obviously missing the gene for foreign language acquisition. When I studied sign language in my psychology classes, I became convinced that this was the language for me. After all, I remember pretty much every dance I ever learned, including the ultra complex wriggle-around-the-stage water droplet dance from "the Sorcerer's Apprentice" when I was 5. Remembering movement has always come naturally to me.

My summer at Gallaudet was enlightening. Mostly I learned about Deaf culture and as one of a few hearing students living on a Deaf campus, I found myself understanding, for the first time, the challenges of being in a new culture with a new language. The ASL acquisition went well too and I fulfilled my language requirement.

When I read that parents were teaching babies sign language to help them communicate without screaming (No screaming? ME LIKEY.), we jumped on board. Starting at around 6 months, we would sign "eat" and then feed you. We would sign "all done" and pull you out of your high chair. You took awhile to catch on. But when you did, we were so excited and proud. "That's right, Zoe. It is a DOGgy!" we'd chirp and beam and pat each other on the back. "Yes, brilliant child, you are EATing!". You'd think you were expounding on the finer details of particle physics.

Unfortunately, now that your vocabulary is expanding, it is entirely unclear what you are trying to say.

Your versions of "shoe" and "more" look exactly alike. Perhaps this is a commentary on my meager shoe selection. "More shoes"? Hey honey, Z says I need more shoes!

Further confusing things, you sign "more" and "eat" indiscriminately. The concept of "more" seems entirely lost on you. If you are riding around on your trike and we ask "more?" you'll look around for the food. And sometimes the sign for "eat" seems to mean pacifier. or "I want that". or perhaps "ontogeny recapitulates phylogeny".

Your signs for "light" and "milk" are identical. When you are in the kitchen and you rub your thumb over your fingertips ("miserly"?? "penny-pinching"????) we flick the lights on and off and then offer you milk. We are, in a word, clueless.

Your sign for "book" is my favorite right now. A simple opening and closing of the palms has been turned into this elaborate hand-jive. Too bad it also looks exactly like your sign for "fish".

Perhaps I should have taught you what little French is left rattling around in my brain. Oui? (Yup. That's pretty much it.)

Because here in Southern California, what could be a more useful second language than French?

Love,

Your Clueless But Hopeful Mama

PS. Did you not get the memo about no screaming?