Barbara Neely: Despite being the homeland of practically every variety of human being on the planet, the USA does not tolerate differences well. Ask anyone who doesn’t look, sound, or act like the idealized American: that is slim, white, Christian, straight, able-bodied, and, preferably, male.  They will likely be able to give you at least one example of a time when they were discriminated against and made to feel an outsider. Think, then, what kind of stories my guest must have to tell being a multi-racial deaf, lesbian poet who is also a rape and incest survivor, brave enough to talk and write about it, all of which put her outside the “in crowd.” But this outsider status is not without its uses. It can stoke a creative fire that allows an artist to reach deeper and further—to see and tell truths that others miss or don’t want to know. Such is the case with my guest, Ayisha Knight, an actress, activist, photographer and poet who has recently had the distinction of being the first deaf poet to have her work set to music and produced on a CD. Ayisha Knight has also appeared on HBO’s def poetry jam. Her new CD is entitled Until. Today she is accompanied by American Sign Language interpreter Diane McKeon.

[audio clip from CD “Until”]

Ayisha, I’m sure that many people have told you that this is really a wonderful CD. The music and the voices that are used on the CD just all blend so beautifully. I just really thank you for it.

Ayisha Knight: The voices actually come from Black Out of Boston and they have lent their marvelous voices to the poems. I’ve been working with them for about three or four years. And Oz, who’s a friend of mine, he actually gathered together the voices of those people who would read the poems. He figured out who would sound best to match my poems. And then from that came the CD. Then we found Francis Phan who created the music to go along with the voices that were already on tape. So it was a beautiful creation. Tony Lightfoot is just an amazing editor and she has aided me in editing the poems so they sounded best for the CD.

BN: It seems to me it takes an awful lot of trust to allow someone to take your work and do something with it that you really ultimately cannot critique.

AK: I’m used having to trust interpreters. To work with interpreters on a daily basis, I have to trust that they are using the appropriate vocabulary for me when I’m signing and that they’re matching the intent of my words, so I had already built trust with the Black Out artists, and still, yes, you know had a lot of fear involved in that. I had no of knowing if it sounded good and if people would react in a positive way. So, you know, I had to put my faith in everyone involved and after my poems were put to voice (we hadn’t put the music in it yet), I actually gave the CD to some interpreter-friends of mine and had them listen, and said “does this sound OK?”—OK, the voices are OK. Then every time Francis would create some more music to it, I’d go “OK, somebody listen to this. Does this sound OK?” you know, people I already had trust in. I would watch their facial expressions while they listened to the music. Sometimes people would come to tears, sometimes people would fall out laughing. And that really touched me to watch the people I trusted listening to the music in process.

BN: Great.

AK: And that helped me to have more faith in the people that I had trusted to do the music and the sound. But still it’s something I’ll never know.

BN: You’re going to have to trust us all. It is great. It really is. Today on Commonwealth Journal I’m talking with the poet Ayisha Knight about her CD called “Until,” said to be the first CD of a deaf poet’s work set to music. I know that there is a well-defined deaf culture.

AK: Absolutely.

BN: I wonder about ways beyond sound that it is different from the hearing community-particularly for an artist.

AK: I’m just thinking about myself as an artist. I’m a deaf artist. I’m also an artist who is deaf. And those are two different things. For example my photography I tend to focus on hands and eyes. That’s something I see a lot because it’s part of my culture of being deaf. But not all artists who are deaf deal with issues that are deaf.

BN: Yes, well of course, yes, I assume that.

AK: Being a deaf artist and having the ASL culture, the American Sign Language Culture, the culture of being a visual culture, and having the foundation of such a close-knit community, it’s an amazing experience. And I don’t think many hearing people get to experience that kind of a life. I mean the deaf community is very small. We’re very close-knit. We know each other. Even though we’re across the United States, we all live in one small town. For example, if I met someone in Pennsylvania, and I said, “Oh, where did you go to school? Where did you grow up?” We would know some other people that, in minutes, we would say “Oh, ya, I know so-and-so.” And, “Ya, I did such-and-such with that person.”

BN: The old “Six Degrees” thing!

AK: Right! Exactly, exactly.

BN: I assume that all artists’ work is informed by their lives whether they intend for it to be the case or not-some implicitly, some explicitly. And yours is very explicit in your poems. And I want you to talk about how you get to a place where you are able to do that kind of self-disclosure.

AK: Oh! That was a long journey. I wrote a lot of poems. I burnt a lot of things. I threw a lot of things against the wall. I would break glass on the wall. Then I came into a more meditative state and started allowing myself to express myself without the fear of people not understanding me or rejecting me. When you expose yourself you run the fear of hurting more. I realized that if I exposed myself to others and told my story that that might actually help someone else expose their story, and in that process recover, just as I did.

BN: There seem to be, sort of, two schools of thought around trauma: the victim school and the survivor school. And you are clearly in the survivor school. But I’m always sort of interested in how those two things work together. I mean: one sort of precludes the other. So, how are they different? I mean, how are you different from the point in your life when you considered yourself to be a victim-from this point, in which you consider yourself to be a survivor?

AK: When I was a teenager: that was the time when I would have labeled myself a victim-closed-off from the world, you now, having everybody just stay away. I ate a lot to insulate my body, to be protected from the world. I experimented with drugs; skipped school; school was too boring; was very angry, very depressed. You know, just add your normal teenage hormones to that mixture…

BN: Indeed!

AK: …and, you know, therein lies beauty. At that time I refused to disclose to anyone what had happened. I’m thinking no one else had any kind of an experience similar to me. I’m the only one in the world who’s had this experience. Really, in hind sight, that’s ridiculous, but that’s how I felt then. I think that is a normal feeling that people go through. And then after I graduated high school I took off for a year and I had a cathartic process of traveling across country and I said “OK, this is it. I’m independent. I can do this.” I applied for University of California at Santa Cruz in the Fall. I took some courses, and came across a drama course and was hooked because I could actually change the characters. You know, I could have different feelings that could be expressed through various characters. I could sign differently to express this character. I could feel free through various expressions, and had some very amazing professors who taught me that I had the power. That I am a powerful individual. That I have the power to change my own life. That I can decide which path to take in life. That was my decision. My responsibility. So I stayed there for a while and then I transferred to Gallaudet University and had an amazing experience there because everyone there signs, you have complete communication access; everybody signing in the dorm. I met more people like me: deaf people who had been abused; who were rape survivors. And I had a sense of companionship and camaraderie. I started to express myself more in my poetry, and in my photography and in some creative art. I went to a lot of rallies and felt that I finally got the power back. And then was able to go through a role shift. I think that’s when my perspective changed. I’ve already gone through all of this as a victim and I’m now a new person and I want to let go of all the negative feelings that I’d had had before all the negative thoughts and now think more positively. I’m an artist. I’m free. I’m creative.  I’m a survivor. And now I actually call myself a “thriver.”

BN: [laughs] Great! You know, it is fascinating, though, isn’t it? How there is something about putting an awful secret out that allows you to let go of it. That in a way, you know, once it becomes a public thing, it’s not yours anymore. It’s just something.

AK: Right. And that fear gets lost, you know, and everything after that is fine. You’ve let go of it. You’ve let go. And it’s amazing to see what happens after that. Like with this CD I was so scared. Just everything in my life is in this CD. It’s all there. You know, I mean I’ve just exposed it all, you know! And once the CD was released, I’m like: “OK, what’s going to happen next?” And just amazing response from people—their positive reactions; telling me that they were able to then express themselves with their family issues. And it made them deal with a whole bunch of other issues that they had themselves. And it’s very healing for other people. And that’s amazing to me.

[audio clip from CD “Until”]

BN: Today on Commonwealth Journal, I’m talking with the poet Ayisha Knight and her ASL interpreter Diane McKeon. We’re talking about Ayisha’s CD called “Until,” the first CD of a deaf poet’s work set to music.

I’m fascinated by your relationship with the people that you work with—both Toni and Diane, who’s here now. And I’d like to talk about that for a bit if I could. So, Diane, I’m going to want to talk to you as well. You know, you’re like a couple, aren’t you, in some ways [laughing]?

AK: Yes [laughing]. Absolutely. We’ve learned to trust each other a lot. We have come to a certain rhythm and style in working together. Diane and I have worked together for the past five years, so, you know it’s like kind of  “old hat.” When you work together with somebody that long you, you know,  you say, “OK. Ya, I know who I’m working for today.”

BN: It’s so interesting just looking at the two of you. First of all, you can sense the sort of rapport between the two of you. But the visual thing, I mean, you know, there you are Ayisha in your striped cap and sweater and jeans. And Diane has on her little power suit and shirt, you know. If someone had said to me, well, this is a young person who you are going to be talking to along with their counselor or their lawyer [laughing] or whatever, I would believe that. But there’s obviously this other thing going on between the two of you. How long have you worked together. I mean, I know you don’t work together all the time, but how long have you worked together?

AK: You know it’s an amazing relationship that we have. We met in 2000. I had called the Mass. Commission for the Deaf and Hard of Hearing to get an interpreter for me and when I met Diane we just became really comfortable with each other; comfortable with each other’s style. And that doesn’t always happen in interpreter relationships. Sometimes the interpreter is very standoffish, they’re very kind of strict, very business like and “that’s the way I’m going to do my job and that’s it.” And you don’t have that connection. Other interpreters you can end up feeling really friendly with. We went to Cuba together and we were joined at the hip for like 10 days. Imagine! Just one interpreter for me for 10 days.

BN: Wow.

AK:  It was—Wow—ya.

BN: Diane, I want to ask you a couple of questions. Have you ever been in a situation where you had to interpret something that you didn’t want to say?

Diane McKeon: Oh, always, always. One of the things we’ve learned in interpreter training programs is: first, to have thick skin. That it’s not my message.

BN: Right.

DM: I have to convey the intent of the speaker whether it’s in sign language or in voice.

BN: Right.

DM: And I’ve been in situations where the speaker will purposely call attention to the interpreter, and say, “well, I’m going to tell a dirty joke. Let’s see how she can sign it.”

BN: Ah.

DM: So, we get ribbed a lot. And there are times where, you know, we aim to pick assignments that are appropriate for us as individuals. But there are people who can learn how to put aside all of their issues and interpret. But when we interpret we have to convey the message clearly, and if I have any kind of bias within me, that can show in the interpretation. And we  have to be careful with that.

BN: That is one of things I was also curious about is, you know, how you make that seperation between yourself and the person for whom, you know, you’re interpreting. It seems to me that with somebody who has a personality like Ayisha, I mean, the tendency to just sort of fall into that has got to be really great, so that the level of seperation is almost impossible. You know, I mean look at her of course you want to be her [laughing], you know, so how do you deal with that?

DM: Technically, I am not even supposed to be talking with you, because I’m working [laughing], so we’ve crossed one line right there. But, when I go home and have to talk for myself, it’s very hard. Because I’m in other people’s heads all day long, and predicting what other people are going to say next to make sure that I have all the approporiate vocabulary. And so to speak for myself sometimes is difficult. I remember, I used to be a staff interpreter for one individual, and we were at a very big event, and the deaf person decided not to go to the dinner. So I went to the dinner, myself. And people were talking with me and they said, “who are you?” And I said “I’m so and so’s interpreter.” And they said, “and does so and so’s interpreter have a name?” [laughing] “Oh right, I’m Diane McKeon. Hi, nice to meet you!”

BN: Yeah, I see what you mean.

DM: So you kinda-you have to lose yourself to be able to interpret. You know, for a little while. And Ayisha is saying, oh maybe that I would share some of my experiences going to Cuba with Ayisha.

BN: Yes, do.

DM: I was very nervous about going, being one interpreter for 10 days. Um, really there should have been 5 interpreters for 10 days [laughing]. But I met with Ayisha before and really told her all of my fears with going. That she is a night owl, and I’m not. Um.

BN: That’s a problem.

DM: I grew up going to bed at 8 o’clock every night. So, when I went to college and found out that people stayed up after 8 o’clock, I was quite amazed [laughing]. So, I told Ayisha, you know, that she had to understand if she was going to have a conversation with someone until 3 o’clock in the morning, and, we had to go somewhere the next day, that I was not going to be the best interpreter. So, the first night we were there, she had an amazing conversation, that couldn’t have happened without me. But I stayed awake until 3 o’clock in the morning. It was an amazing position to be in as the interpreter, and we both learned alot during that conversation. But, the next day we had to go a lecture, which I fell asleep in while I was interpreting [laughing]. Because, I just kind of... [laughing]

BN: You can fall asleep while you are interpreting [laughing]?

DM: It was very interesting-because I was sitting there and I’m interpreting-and I’m looking at her, and all of a sudden my eyes just started to, you know, roll back in my head [laughing]. And I would wake up and my hands were still moving [laughing]. “Ok, what has he been saying for the past 5 minutes?” [laughing] But actually-and Ayisha became my interpreter on the trip to Cuba, because my Spanish is minimal. I understand more than I can speak. And then when we met the deaf people in Cuba, Ayisha became my interpreter, because deaf people understand each other faster than hearing people can understand deaf people. So, I was speaking in Spanish, so that they could lip read me in Spanish, and we got by. But, when I didn’t understand-we went on a tour with ah um, an interperter-a sign language interpreter brought us on a tour-and the interpreter would sign. So, there was a hearing person speaking Spanish. The interpreter would sign into Cuban Sign Language. Ayisha would turn around and look at me and go, “did you get that?” And I’m like “no!” [laughing] So she would say “here’s what it meant in American Sign Language.” So, we just were an excellent team for the whole week.

AN: Yeah-and that kind of thing, you know, I don’t think could have happened with another interpreter. Each situation depends on the interpreter. And, you know, it’s a challenge for me sometimes if I have a male interpreter. Um, if I’m speaking with a group of women and it’s a male interpreter, I kind of have to say, “I can’t really express everything, because I know that there’s a man speaking for me, rather than a woman.” And I know that the women I am speaking to will react to hearing certain words coming from a male.

BN: I did want to ask you both about gender, I mean Ayisha you’ve partly answered the question, that yes it does-it can make a difference if the uh, interpreter is of a different gender. But, what about for you Diane? Is working with deaf men as comfortable as working with deaf women?

DM: Um, you know that’s a challenge for interpreters all the time because if I speak like a woman for a male professional, then they won’t necessarilly have the full respect...

BN: Hmm hmmm...

DM: ...that they would generally be accorded, because I’m speaking like a woman. And I can remember interpreting on the telephone for a man. And the other man-the hearing man-on the other end of the phone said, “well, sweetie...”

BN: Oh gosh [laughing]

DM: “...let me tell you this.” And I went “oops I must not have spoken that correctly.” So we’re constantly being critical in our heads going-you know-are we picking the right words and-and then, there’s also race, Ayisha is bringing up.

BN: Hmm mmm...

DM: Again, there’s the race issue too, it’s not just gender, it’s race. And, me as a White female, interpreting for a bi-racial deaf woman, when she signs the sign for Black...

BN: Hmm mmm...

DM: What am I supposed to voice? Black? African-American? What will the audience want to hear? And will they be looking at me as a White female saying, “Hey Sistah.” If she said “Hey Sistah”

BN: Right.

DM: But, that’s not how I would normally speak.

BN: Right.

DM: So...

BN: Yes, that’s got to be an interesting situation for the audience. You know, sort of trying to take you out of the equation while you are absolutley central to it.

AK: Right. We’ve had many discussions about that. You know, you’re there, but you’re not there.

BN: Right, you’re not supposed to be a person while you are doing this, which to me, seems really impossible.

DM: Interpreters are involved in people’s lives. We know more about some people that we would never know if we were not in the jobs that we have.

BN: Oh tell me a story then Diane. Come on.

DM: Um, well. Actually, Cuba is the one that stands out a lot with Ayisha and I. And, you know, staying up until 3 in the morning. But there was one very powerful, um, moment in Cuba. I’m asking Ayisha permission to share the story. Um, we were at a restaurant in Cuba and-do you want to share the story?

BN: So, Ayisha you are going to tell the story?

AK: Yeah.

BN: OK.

AK: We were in Cuba and there were a lot of-Cuba has a lot of musicians. This is again how I perceive music as different than a hearing person. I’m watching their hands and how they move their hands on the guitar. And I’m watching people’s expressions while they’re listening to the music. And that’s a kind of art for me. It becomes a picture. And to see how that impacts other people. So we were out to a restaurant at lunch and there were 3 guitarists that came into the room and they serenaded our group. And everyone was listening. And everybody seemed, you know, really touched by their music. And I just sat there and continued to eat and thought, “ok this is nice.” I took a few pictures. And one of the men invited me to touch the guitar while he was playing the guitar. I just fell into the whole experience-the vibrations, seeing how his hands moved and how a particular hand movement made a particular vibration, and that sent the vibrations up my arms and into my body. And that was an amazing experience for me. My experience with the guitar and the guitarist actually impacted everyone that was then watching the experience.

BN: Sure.

DM: That’s something that um-this is Diane talking now-to watch her really, truely, experiencing the music-I stood back against the wall and cried. So-and I’m going to start crying now because I’m an emotional person. But everyone was watching her and then watching me, and then they realized the connection that we had. You know, that I just-to have her have that wonderful experience. And that’s the kind of thing that-heart wrenching, you know like, because how can you describe music-but to then see it actually happen. And the feeling. You know, to see that happen. Those are some of the really cool days of being an interpreter.

BN: I thank you both for telling me those stories-quite wonderful, and really interesting too.

Today on Commonwealth Journal I’m talking with the poet Ayisha Knight and her ASL interpreter, Diane McKeon. So Ayisha, what are you up to?

AK: Since last year, I’ve been involved with a lot more theater this year. My CD my-the poetry CD “Until”-um, actually was transformed into a play...

BN: Oh great.

AK: ...that I acted with dancers and-some hearing dancers and deaf dancers. And finally I could sign in my own language while the music was playing and the dancers were dancing, and get really creative. That the deaf audience could come and enjoy a show without an interpreter. We would like to perform that at various universities. I’ve also been asked to perform at First Night as well.

BN: Uh hah. And, if folks want to keep up with you and don’t happen to have a skateboard they can go to your uh, website right? [laughing]

AK: My website: www dot ayishaknight dot com. That’s a-y-i-s-h-a-k-n-i-g-h-t dot com.

BN: Great, good. My guests on Commonwealth Journal have been Ayisha Knight; actress, activist, photographer and poet, and her American sign language interpreter, Diane McKeon. We’ve been talking about Ayisha’s new CD called “Until” produced by Empowerment Records. Well I want to thank you both, I’ve really enjoyed talking to you. You know I wish you the best of luck with the CD, which I think is really quite wonderful.

AK: Wonderful talking with you as well. Nice to meet you and take this time with you.

BN: You can hear more of my conversation with Ayisha Knight at our website: www dot wumb dot org slash Commonwealth Journal.

[audio clip from CD, “Until”]

BN: You can win a copy of Ayisha Knight’s CD “Until” by entering the drawing on our webiste, wumb dot org slash commonwealth journal. Just make sure you do it by December 24th.

Commonwealth Journal is a weekly production of WUMB-FM Radio at the University of Massachusetts, Boston. Funding has been provided by Blue Cross Blue Shield of Massachusetts. Our engineer is Dave Palmater. Danielle Knight is our assistant producer, Lisa Hickler is our associate producer, and our executive producer is Patricia Monteith. I’m Barbara Neely. We’d love to hear from you. You can reach us at 617 287 6913 or on the web at commonwealthjournal.org. Thanks so much for listening and tune in next week for Commonwealth Journal.