Charlie nodded.
Yeah. A world without sign.
Kayla looked at her, surprised for the first time in the exchange.
Don’t you already know?
Black American Sign Language （BASL）
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
Return to main article: “American Sign Language （ASL）”
Black American Sign Language （BASL） is a dialect of ASL used by Black Americans in the United States, often more heavily in the Southern states. ASL and BASL diverged as a result of race-based school segregation. Because student populations were isolated from one another, the language strands evolved separately, to include linguistic variations in phonology, syntax, and vocabulary.
BASL is often stigmatized when compared to “standard” ASL. The measurement of “standard signs” is particularly fraught, because it is based on signs used at Gallaudet University, a formerly segregated institution.
The belief that one variant of a language is superior to others is called prescriptivism, and subscribers frequently conflate nonstandard usage with error. In the United States, progressive linguists argue that prescriptivism and prestige languages are tools for preserving existing hierarchies and power structures, with ties to Eurocentrism and white supremacist ideology.
LINGUISTIC DIFFERENCES
Phonological: BASL signers are more likely to produce two-handed signs, use an overall larger signing space, and tend to produce more signs on the lower half of the face.
Syntactical: A higher incidence of syntactic repetition appears in multiple studies of BASL signers. A study documented in 2011 also showed more frequent use of constructed dialogue and constructed action among Black signers.
Lexical Variation: Some signs developed at Black Deaf schools diverge completely from standard ASL signs, mostly for everyday objects and activities discussed frequently by students. Linguists have also noticed an increase in lexical borrowing of words and idioms from African American Vernacular English （AAVE） among younger Black signers.
Due to the prevalence of the oral method in white deaf education after the Milan Conference, many white deaf children were denied access to American Sign Language, and ASL was subjugated by spoken English. However, significantly fewer resources were dedicated to Black deaf education, leaving many Black Deaf schools to pursue manual language. As such, scholars note that some variations common in BASL, like a higher incidence of two-handed signs, are actually a preservation of the linguistic qualities of early ASL. （Jump to “ASL, origins of.”）
NOTABLE PEOPLE
Platt H. Skinner, abolitionist and founder of The School for Colored Deaf Dumb and Blind Children, circa 1858. （Jump to “Directory of U.S. Black Deaf Schools.”） Carl Croneberg, a Swedish-American Deaf linguist, was the first person to note differences between ASL and BASL in writing, as coauthor of the 1965 Dictionary of American Sign Language on its Linguistic Principles （see also: William Stokoe）。
Dr. Carolyn McCaskill’s 2011 book, The Hidden Treasure of Black ASL: Its History and Structure, features data from a series of studies performed by McCaskill and her team, and is considered a foundational work in the field.
Further Reading: Joseph Hill, John Lewis, Melanie Metzger, Susan Mather, Andrew Foster, Ida Hampton
christmas Day, for Austin, was always tinged with bitterness, because they were obliged to celebrate it with his father’s fully and hopelessly hearing side of the family. When they were younger, his cousins had picked up some sign, and that had been all they needed to put together a game of backyard football or hide-and-seek. But now the cousins were content to stay at the dinner table after the eating was finished, intermittently glancing up from their phones to chime in on what appeared to be a heated debate—Austin’s father’s side of the family considered political blood sport a bonding activity—while Austin and his mother looked at one another over the mountain of mashed potatoes that sat between them, lost. Normally he felt sorry for himself at these events, but today he thought of Charlie and realized this was a rare moment where he had to experience the world—or rather, not experience it—the way most of his friends did at home.
Sky began to fuss, and his mother turned to entertain her. Austin gave in and pulled his own phone from his pocket, texted Charlie to wish her a Merry Christmas, scrolled through the Instagram deluge of his classmates’ pets coerced into wearing Santa hats. His father, who had started off interpreting the family argument, was now all-in on the fray, red-faced and gesticulating alongside his brothers.
Miss u, Austin wrote to Charlie and watched as the three dots signaling her reply hung there for an age.
Me too u, she wrote after a while.
Austin grinned, rejuvenated by the thought of her.
What? said his mother.
What? Nothing.
You got all red.
It’s hot in here. Too much yelling.
Yeah right, she said, but he could see she was happy for him.
Austin swiped at his cheeks, as if he could remove the blush.
Invite them over sometime.
Who?
Whoever made you turn that color.
Maybe.
He stopped signing—a few of his relatives were watching them now. Why was it that they were allowed to blather on for ages, but the minute Austin and his mom started their own conversation it was as if they’d volunteered to put on a show?
It was nice to return home after the gathering and begin his traditional campout on the couch for the frigid week between Christmas and New Year’s, lounging before an unending stream of B karate movies, and allowing the days to bleed into one another until his mom finally cajoled him into showering.
New Year’s Eve was a different story, though—that was hands down his favorite holiday. His grandparents would come for dinner bearing belated Christmas gifts, and then stay for his parents’ annual New Year’s Eve bash, to which Deaf families from across the tri-state came to party. All week he had been contemplating whether or not he should invite Charlie—it was childish to celebrate New Year’s with your family, and undoubtedly she’d have other, cooler plans. But at the same time, it was a night that always felt special, and he wanted to share it with her. Each morning he’d begin writing a text explaining the family tradition and inviting her to come. Then he’d save the message to his drafts, postponing the inevitable rejection for another day.
Then, the day before New Year’s Eve, his finger slipped. As he watched the check marks beside the text materialize to confirm its delivery, his stomach knotted, a little from fear, but from excitement, too. So what if it was a boring grown-up party? Maybe they could siphon off some booze and slip into his bedroom unnoticed. He barely had time to dream up what might transpire between them when his phone vibrated with her response—she’d said yes. Austin couldn’t help but do a little victory dance in the kitchen. His mother looked on, eyebrows raised, trying to stifle a laugh.
I invited them!
Who? said his mother.
The girl that made me turn red.
Invite her to dinner, too!
Austin frowned. Sometimes his parents could so effectively kill a buzz he wondered whether they’d taken a class in the skill. There was no way he was going to subject Charlie to being his grandparents’ captive audience on their first date, if you could call it that.
Definitely not, he said.