Speechless

     I think the weirdest book I read in 8th grade was The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, by Mark Twain.  I thought Mark Twain was a classicist—elegant prose, far-fetched adventures.  Thirteen year old me had no idea that one of America’s greatest writers was popular for breaking with classical traditions and writing in dialect.  I did enjoy the read, however Huckleberry Finn also dealt with some dark topics like parental abuse and slavery.  I did not fully appreciate the book until I was a senior in high school and revisited it in AP Literature class.  

     When I read it with more maturity, there was one thing that struck me, perhaps more so in my second reading than my first—the scene of Jim discovering his daughter was deaf.  Jim tells Huck how much he misses his family, and mentions his worst memory.  When Jim was back at home, he told his daughter Elizabeth, who was four years old and had previously fallen ill with Scarlet Fever, to shut the door.  She ‘ignores’ his order, ‘smilin’’ at her dad.  Jim gets angry because he thinks his daughter is disobeying him and hits her.  

… when I come back, dah was dat do’ a-stannin’ open yit, en dat chile stannin’ mos’ right in it, a-lookin’ down en mournin’, en de tears runnin’ down.  My, but I wuz mad.  I was agwyne for de chile, but jis’ den - it was a do’ dat open’ innerds - jis’ den, ‘long come de wind en slam it to, behine de chile, ker-blam! - en my lan’, de chile never move’!  My breff mos’ hop outer me; en I feel so - so- I doan know how I feel.  I crope out, all a-tremblin’, en crope aroun’ en open de do’ easy en slow, en poke my head in behine de chile, sof’ en still, en all uv a sudden I says pow! jis’ as loud as I could yell.  She never budge!  O, Huck, I bust out a-cryin’, en grab her up in my arms en say, ‘O de po’ little thing! de Lord God Almight fogive po’ ole Jim, kaze he never gwyne to forgive hisseff as long’s he live!’ O, she was plumb deef en dumb, Huck, plumb deef en dumb -en I’d ben a treat’n her so!¹

Modern English Translation (roughly): “… when I come back, the door was still standing open, and the child was standing in front of it looking sad and crying.  My, but I was mad.  I was going for the child again, but just then - it was a door that opened inward - just then, there came a wind and slammed it behind the child, ker-blam! - and my lord, the child never moved!  My breath escaped; and I feel so - so- I don’t know how I feel.  I creeped out, trembling, and around and open the door softly, and poked my head in behind the child, quietly, and all of a sudden I said pow! just as loud as I could yell.  She never budged!  O, Huck, I bust out crying, and grab her up in my arms and say, ‘O you poor little thing! the Lord God Almighty forgive po' ole Jim, because he never going to forgive himself as long as he live!’ O, she was plumb deaf and dumb, Huck, plumb deaf and dumb - and I’d been treating her so!”

     This was the first time I saw the phrase ‘deaf and dumb’ and it disturbed me, because I am deaf.  Since then I have seen the phrase ‘deaf and dumb’ used several times in other classical or older literature.  I have never seen it in modern usage—a good thing.  Today, ‘deaf and dumb’ is a terrible term, some might define it as insulting.  In past usage, like in the age of Mark Twain, ‘deaf and dumb’ was a valid way to describe someone who was deaf.  Valid does not make it right, but dumb’s chief meaning in the past was speechless.  Many deaf people signed and did not speak, then or now.

     The current definition of dumb still includes speechlessness, like “the actor was struck dumb with stage fright,” but now it also means stupidity.  I thought that Twain, or the character Jim, was calling deaf people stupid.  I knew it was not true, deaf people are as smart as hearing people, but it rattled me then.  I am very glad ‘deaf and dumb’ is an antiquated phrase, but I found it interesting that ‘deaf and dumb’ existed at all.  The modern definition of dumb means both speechless and stupid.  Did that mean being speechless equates being stupid?

     To hearing people of the past, perhaps this definition was true—being speechless meant stupidity.  If someone could not voice their opinion, state a coherent thought, or recite an eloquent speech, then that someone was dumb in both meanings of the word.  Not everyone recognized sign language as a language.  Even today, some people still question whether American Sign Language (ASL) could be called a language.

     To them I would answer, ASL is a beautiful language.  Understanding ASL is like entering another plane of existence; it opens a whole new world of possibilities and communication.  In the past, people just did not recognize the potential of signing to replace speechlessness.  Their biased views were not limited to signing, but also to other languages.  To them foreign languages sounded uncivilized, barbaric—barbaric comes from the Latin word barbarus ,which means foreign!  

     It is not the language that matters—communication matters.  It would be too easy to consider anyone I do not understand ‘dumb,’ but if I group people in that category, I would dismiss many glorious minds, kind hearts, and helping hands.  Some examples of people whom I do not understand in their native language:  Doestevsky, Virgil, Rumi, or Zhuangzi.  Do I consider them ‘dumb?’  Of course not!  I do have to overcome a communication barrier in order to understand their philosophy or art, but thankfully, there are translators!  Now I can read (understanding is another thing!) Crime and Punishment, The Aeneid, Rumi’s many poems, and Zhuangzi’s philosophical thoughts.  Never assume someone is dumb, just because they do not share your language.
     In biology class you will learn that humans are part of homo sapiens, which is Latin for wise person.  So humans are smart, regardless of the ability to speak Latin!  Does that leave you speechless?

Footnote

1 - Twain, Mark.  Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, Edited by Victor Fisher and Lin Salamo.  (Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 2001). 201-2.