Right now, the Registry of Interpreters for the Deaf (RID) is wrapping up their 19th biennial conference in San Antonio, TX with a posh banquet in the hotel’s ballroom. I was lucky enough to be sent there to represent BayFirst Solutions (DeafDC.com’s parent corporation).

When I was first told I’d be going to San Antonio, I was thrilled beyond belief. TEXAS. Finally, I would confront the Lone Star State, the myth, the legend. That gargantuan shape right there in the middle of the United States, elbowing out New Mexico and Arkansas and wiggling its way through Oklahoma and reaching way down to Cancun. Finally, Texas!

Other than the Alamo (which I originally thought was in Austin - geesh, it’s all the same to me), I was curious about the RID conference itself.

2,000 interpreters converging upon south Texas to visit booths, network with others, and learn new, funky signing tricks. My first two questions were: (1) What happens to all of us deaf people in the country when we need an interpreter for this and that? They’re all going to be in San Antonio! (2) Will they even bother signing? It’s an interpreter convention, after all. They’re hearing. They’d dispense with the bothersome sign language and use their natural language.

Both questions were answered to my immense satisfaction. First - don’t even try getting an ‘terp. You’re better off waiting until next Monday.

Second - wow. They really did sign. In fact, the entire RID conference felt like one big fat Deaf gathering. I mean, what, there’s only 50 deaf people and 1,800 hearing people; everyone still won’t sit down after the lights flash on and off, and they’re all staying in the hotel lobby talking until 2:00 AM. They reveled in the opportunity to sign with each other. ASL is their passion and their life. I felt totally included and forgot that almost everyone there was hearing.

Example: I was working at the booth one day and an interpreter from Riverside came along to speak to my co-worker, Martha. But first, that interpreter tapped me and meekly asked for my permission to not sign and instead speak privately (and verbally) with Martha. Wow. That’s true empowerment there.

The vice-president of RID is deaf. The president gave her opening address in sign language, using a voice interpreter. The vast majority of hearing workshop presenters disseminated their information in ASL.

RID was the most intelligent and pleasant deaf conference I’d ever been to. And it isn’t a deaf conference. But it felt like one.

It was their sincere effort to create an inclusive, visual-communication environment that made me all the more dismayed when a group of Deaf attendees raised a ruckus about a few interpreter presenters who chose to speak instead of signing. Offended by this terribly grave infraction, they affixed orange tape to their name tags as a silent protest of RID’s failure to require all their workshop presenters to present in ASL.

Please. How would you feel if you were required to do a workshop in one language and not the one you preferred? I would think that, for a trip that costs one or two thousand dollars altogether, you’d want to see workshops that were taught efficiently, regardless of the language. These Deaf silent protesters failed to see the tremendous efforts that RID took in creating a signing environment; they wanted an all-or-nothing approach. I was embarrassed.

Every single workshop that wasn’t marked “ASL only” had voice and ASL interpreters present. In front of an audience of interpreters, too - which can’t be easy. All of them were captioned via remote captioning. It wasn’t like any one of us was deprived of access to information.

Interpreters are our community’s voice, and not a group of people we must constantly confront. Their jobs are not easy, and their conference is a chance for them to work on expanding their skills to better serve us. For a few Deaf people to take advantage of their invitation and create a ruckus over the use of spoken English by a few workshop presenters just left a bad taste in my mouth.

That and the food along the Riverwalk. It just wasn’t that good. The margaritas were, though! And I really got my Southwest fix. The opportunity to get to know interpreters better outside of their work environment was priceless; I was sorry to leave before the end of the conference.