Upon meeting, each took my hand enthusiastically to greet me. Then Langdon, who is Deaf, began signing fervently in American Sign Language (ASL). Serna, who is DeafBlind—meaning he can’t see or hear—then placed his left hand loosely on top of Langdon’s right and followed Langdon’s hand movements as the latter signed. (The capitalization denotes identity, rather than ability.)
Despite the friendly nature of the conversation, it was anxiety-inducing. Being in the presence of any foreign language can be overwhelming: not only are you unable to understand what’s being said, but you can’t voice your own opinions or needs. With spoken word, you can get a sense of what’s going on based on your knowledge of similar languages and conversational tone—and, of course, you can interject vocally if you really need to (even if you aren’t actually speaking the language of those around you). And when communicating with someone who can see you, you can wave or gesture to indicate you don’t follow—no matter what verbal language they speak.
But in front people speaking pro-tactile ASL, it’s difficult to even figure out how to make your presence known.
Pro-tactile ASL is not widely-used or well-known, in large part because it’s so new. “Prior to 2007, DeafBlind people rarely communicated directly with one another,” said Terra Edwards, an anthropological linguist at Gallaudet, in a 2011 interview with the Wenner-Gren Foundation.
In America, there are between 45,000 and 50,000 DeafBlind people, according to Gallaudet. Since the 1980s, in order to interact, DeafBlind people relied on methods like Braille, fingerspelling—the way Helen Keller communicated—and physically tracking ASL, the way Serna did with Langdon.