American Sign Language interpreter Lawrence Chapman Jr. interprets for plays, musical events and for his church congregation, Cedar Street Baptist Church of God, whose service is televised on The CW. (Photo by Jay Paul)
If you’ve attended the Friday Cheers concert series, the Richmond Folk Festival, Virginia PrideFest or perhaps a play at the Dominion Energy Center, you may have noticed another animated individual onstage in addition to the artists or actors. It may also be possible that you were captivated by their silent but moving performances. Critical connectors between the deaf and hearing communities, American Sign Language interpreters are advocates of accessibility, aiming to ensure that an underserved population is always part of the experience.
“Growing up, there weren’t a lot of interpreters. My parents would just sit there at an event, which I didn’t really agree with,” local ASL interpreter Lawrence Chapman Jr. says.
Chapman’s parents are deaf, and he is what the deaf community refers to as a CODA (child of deaf adults). “Sign language was actually my first language; I had to learn how to communicate with my parents first, so later on, I learned how to speak verbally,” he says.
A Richmond native, Chapman, 43, has interpreted at his own high school graduation, medical appointments, college classes, plays and musical events. Sundays, he interprets for his congregation, Cedar Street Baptist Church of God, whose service is televised on The CW.
Despite ASL being his native language, Chapman didn’t start signing professionally until 2011. “I think [CODAs] all share that similar story of not wanting to become an interpreter, especially if you’re the oldest — I carried that responsibility all my life,” he says. “One day the lightbulb went off, and God said, ‘What are you going to do? You’re going to use it or lose it,’ and I answered the call.”
In the United States, there are around 10,000 certified American Sign Language interpreters who serve an estimated 1 million people who are functionally deaf and 10 million who are hard of hearing. Virginia is home to about 300 registered interpreters. About 4% are Black, and only 1% are Black men.
Organizations typically source interpreters through agencies such as Purple Communications (a Texas-based company with outposts across the country, including Richmond). The agencies know their clients’ skills and backgrounds and work to match them with venues or production companies. While testing varies from state to state, in the commonwealth, interpreters are required to take a two-part written and performance evaluation through the Virginia Department for the Deaf and Hard of Hearing. The decision to include signers at events is typically determined by the host organization. Under the 1990 Americans With Disabilities Act, venues are required to have an interpreter present if requested by deaf attendees.
The Richmond Folk Festival has used ASL interpreters since 2005. Organizer Venture Richmond also occasionally provides signers during Friday Cheers concerts.
“We find it to be another great way to keep the festival as inclusive as possible,” says Stephen Lecky, Venture Richmond’s director of events. “We are lucky to have repeat interpreters over the years for the Folk Festival, and they have become an extension of the bands and groups and really a part of the Folk Fest fabric.”
While interpreters and deaf culture have gained more notice from mainstream audiences, spotted onstage at the Super Bowl or at Hollywood movie screenings, supporters and signers say that the community has been there all along.
“It’s not necessarily like all of a sudden there’s more deaf actors and actresses. They’ve been there; it’s just that now we’re seeing more of them, and that’s because people have fought really hard,” says Melody Nikol Winters, a veteran ASL instructor who works at Huguenot High School.
Winters has signed on stages including those of Washington, D.C.’s Capital One Arena for Depeche Mode, Northern Virginia’s Wolf Trap for The Cure and the Richmond Folk Festival. Her relationship with the deaf community started when she was younger and her brother was thought to be deaf. In college, she majored in theater performance with a concentration in ASL and even created a student-planned curriculum after asserting that ASL is indeed a second language.
After becoming part of a deaf touring performance group post-college and teaching at two schools for the deaf in New York, she says, “I had a new compass.”
“I will always be a second language user. Deaf people, it is their language and culture, and they’re the ones that pulled me across the divide, not the other way around, so I do the best in my work to honor them and do what little I can to pay them back for the life that I found,” Winters says.
She describes her style as expressive and, at 5 feet, 3 inches tall, says she’s been told she has “a very large and dramatic signing space.”
Hunta Williams at a Reynolds Community College graduation (Photo courtesy Hunta Williams)
While many interpreters are part of the hearing community, Hunta Williams, 41, believes his role is essential. He is Black, trans and deafblind. A proponent for the LGBTQ community, he’s been interpreting performances for five years at events including Virginia PrideFest and the VA Pride Drag Show.
“Without deaf interpreters, there would be no other cultures or individuals who can fully understand deaf people,” Williams says via email.
Performance interpreting is multifaceted, based in movement and a familiarity with the entertainer or artist and their work. It’s a blend of balancing logistics from set lists to audio, mixed with a high level of preparation and personal creativity. And, most importantly, it’s rooted in understanding, respecting and supporting deaf culture and the deaf community.
“When I’m onstage interpreting, I feel joy. I want to share the energy for the deaf audience to enjoy the performance and not passively watch what’s happening,” Williams says. “As a deaf interpreter, I want to give them the full experience with the facial expressions, the energy of the performer and their culture. Let me be clear: We are not ‘translators.’ As deaf interpreters, we are mediating and transmitting the performances.”
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