Both of my parents were deaf, and that has left its residue.  I’ve been a teacher for ‘a hundred years’ and it’s clear that I talk with my hands a lot.  No doubt, that’s largely due to the sign language being all around me as I grew up.  There’s also this curious double talk that I do.  I learned pretty quickly that I couldn’t call out to them.  So, if I was around a corner I had to walk over in order to talk.  If I remembered there was something I had to tell my mom, for example, I would say it aloud as I turned to walk over.  Then I would say it ‘again’ when I got her attention and spoke to her face to face.  This was so ingrained that I still do it when the people around me are hearing, and they wonder why I would say things twice.

But the most intriguing residue has to do with a simple nod.

There is a common expression, at least there was in the old days, where we would say a person was nodding off when they were asleep.  Well, this is more like nodding on.  An important part of signing is being able to look someone in the face.  The face provides a host of visual clues that help to convey the meaning of what you are saying.  Signing involves its own set of dynamics.  And a key part is a kind of mimetic invitation…the invitation to join in the experience of the story-teller, just as when we watch a mime climb steps, turn a corner, and open a door.  The story-teller is watching his audience to see if they are with him, and the audience nods to let him know it’s OK, or maybe a slight quizzical wince to let him know otherwise.  We do the same thing when we are talking and listening, but it is more subdued, less evident.

Here’s where I am going…I see conversations as more of an interaction because I grew up in a deaf household, and I think this has been a critical part of my work as a teacher.

There is a lovely Einstein story that goes back to the 1920’s when he was on a lecture tour in the States as he and his theory of relativity were becoming celebrated.  He was in a major university lecture hall, filled to the proverbial brim.  Down front were the dignitaries of the university, deans and department chairs and in the rows behind were the faculty.  The students were in the back.  Einstein was introduced and began to explain his brilliant work.  After a 30 or 40 minutes, say, there was a break.  And after the break he picks up his lecture again and he speaks for several minutes, when he stops.  “Forgive me,” he says, “but I should like to stop for a moment and ask a question.  There is a young man in the back who is shaking his head.  He has been following my talk carefully, and I see now that something is amiss.  So, let me ask him ’What is wrong?’”

The student is most embarrassed, but explains that he cannot follow the argument since the break.  Einstein looks down at his papers and realizes that he has skipped several pages in his presentation, and the young man was quite right.

It is a cute tale about the rest of the audience and their failure to see what the young man had seen, but it is especially sweet on Einstein as a teacher.