Interpretability and Accessibility of Mainstream Classrooms

Elizabeth A. Winston

After more than three decades of mainstreaming, with little research to support its effectiveness, more and more people are actively questioning the process, wondering to what extent mainstreamed deaf students are being provided illusionary access to a system that is fundamentally biased against their need for visual learning. Turner (2002, 2004) describes this kind of situation as institutional audism, the pervasive bias toward hearing and sound that is found throughout a system like mainstreamed education. The limited research currently available on the effectiveness of interpreted educations is consistently revealing the illusions. Most research about access by means of interpreting has been conducted with adults at the postsecondary level (Marschark, Sapere, Convertino, Seewagen, and Maltzen forthcoming; Marschark, Sapere, Convertino, and Seewagen forthcoming; Livingston, Singer, and Abramson 1994). As Marschark, Sapere, Convertino, and Seewagen (forthcoming) conclude, very little is reliably known about how adults understand interpreted educations. Winston (1990, 1994) has described K–12 classroom activities from the perspective of visual accessibility and resulting interpretability. A published occasional paper (Johnson and Cohen 1994) from Gallaudet University offers several investigations into the social and cultural implications of mainstreaming or “inclusion,” repeatedly finding that the practice does not provide adequate access to normal social interaction. Ramsey (1997, chapter 11 of this volume) has described the lot of deaf and hard of hearing children who have been “included” in an elementary classroom:

In this context, deaf students must struggle to find their own identities as genuine peers of the hearing students who have the advantage of direct and immediate access to the teacher. For some, this identity remains out of reach, discouraging participation in class and making intergrated settings uncomfortable.

The Commission on Education of the Deaf (1988) raised serious concerns about the adequacy of mainstreamed educations for deaf children. Fifteen years later, the NAD (2003) White Paper: 2003 Reauthorization of the Individuals with Disabilities Education Act continues to raise these serious concerns about accessibility for deaf children in interpreted educations and presents the fundamental needs of deaf students in education, stating,

The NAD, consistent with the National Deaf Education Project (NDEP), a collaborative project of the American Society for Deaf Children, the Conference of Educational Administrators of Schools and Programs for the Deaf, the Convention of American Instructors of the Deaf, Gallaudet University, the National Association of the Deaf, and the National Technical Institute for the Deaf, believes that direct and uninhibited language and communication access to the curriculum, and all facets of the schooling experience are essential for a deaf child to achieve equality of opportunity. (NAD 2003)

NAD goes on to express serious concerns about the placement of deaf and hard of hearing children in mainstream settings, stating,

However, we are profoundly concerned that this provision of the law, intended as a presumption favoring local school placements when appropriate, continues to be interpreted and applied as a mandate for full inclusion. In the case of many deaf and hard of hearing students, the effect of this continued misinterpretation and misapplication of the provision has the net effect of isolating the student from the very things crucial to their development, unimpeded language and communication access to the curriculum and socialization opportunities. The placement decision for deaf and hard of hearing individuals must be communication driven and the LRE for a deaf or hard of hearing child must be the environment that presents the fewest language and communication barriers to the individual’s cognitive, social, and emotional development. (NAD 2003)

The chapters in this volume and other research indicate that these concerns are not being adequately addressed. Kurz Brown and Caldwell Langer (see chapter 1) have found that deaf students in their study were often unaware of or confused about the roles of interpreters; Caldwell Langer (see chapter 5) has found that interpreters feel undersupported. In addition, Jones, Clark, and Soltz (1997), Schick, Williams, and Bolster (1999), Schick and Williams (see chapter 10), and Yarger (2001) have documented the sad state of interpreter qualifications in several areas of the country. La Bue (1998) and Caldwell Langer (see chapter 5) have initiated preliminary research about linguistic access available through an interpreted education; each have found tremendous differences between what is available to hearing students and what is interpreted and therefore accessible for deaf students in interpreted education.

No accepted standards exist for determining when a student is ready for placement in an interpreted education. These students are frequently placed with little regard for language skills and background preparation as well as to social, cognitive, and emotional maturity. The field is rife with anecdotal accounts of interpreters who, for example, are forced to interpret to three students, one who is a native ASL signer, one who is a mediocre English signer, and one who is not a signer at all. Although this task is patently impossible, administrators, parents, and teachers all ignore this fact and pat themselves on the back for meeting the letter of the law. Yet, with the ongoing lack of research, deaf students are placed into interpreted educations without an understanding of what can be, might be, or is possible.

The unfounded expectations of teachers, parents, and interpreters abound: that deaf children will learn any language through interpretation; that they will learn English through English signing; and that qualified interpreters can bridge a vast chasm of language deficit, academic disadvantage, and audistic teaching approaches with a Lilliputian rope made up of flapping hands. The failure to require stringent certification and standards for interpreters and, in many cases, to ignore the need for qualifications means that, often, interpreters have even shorter “ropes.” These tremendous barriers to interpreted education must be recognized, and anyone choosing this type of education, either for themselves or for their children, must at least make the decision after considering what might be possible rather than placing blind hope in illusionary access.

Nevertheless, it also seems clear that interpreted, mediated educations are going to continue and that, with a number of factors in place, they can provide, not a condition of normalcy, but a potential channel to accessibility. Several factors influence the effectiveness of an interpreted education. These include the skill of the interpreter, the language, the cognitive and academic levels of the deaf or hard of hearing student, the support received from caregivers, and the interpreted classroom environment. Other chapters in this volume address the student and the interpreter; this study investigates the complex interaction between the constraints of interpreting and the classroom environment, especially those characteristics that rely on and reflect the hearing bias of sound-based classrooms. The goal is to analyze whether and to what extent those classrooms and hearing approaches can be made more accessible to deaf students who have adequate language, academic, and cognitive skills to meet the classroom expectations when those students are provided with appropriate, qualified interpreters. Before analyzing whether and how an interpreted classroom can be made accessible through interpreting, this chapter first discusses the unchangeable constraints of interpreting and interpreted educations. Then the following discussion addresses the effect of these constraints on the classrooms, the assumptions about English language learning (implicit and explicit) that are made in hearing classrooms, and the discourse patterns of teachers that are compatible with interpreting an education.

ISSUES OF ACCESS

Six key issues affect interpretation in the classroom: interpretation’s “secondhand” quality, the lag time it creates, the multiple channels of input inherent in the education process, visual accessibility, academic language, and discourse styles of teachers. The following discussion will consider each of these issues in more depth.

Interpreted Educations as Mediated (Secondhand) Information

For many years, a simplistic definition of interpreting has had a tremendous effect on beliefs about interpreted educations. This definition views the act as a simple decoding and encoding, a one-to-one transformation of words spoken in English into a visual representation of those words through some kind of signing. In this definition, interpreters are simply machines that process this transformation, having no effect on the message, participants, or outcomes. Although most in the field of interpreting have moved far beyond this simplistic definition, the belief that this mechanistic transformation somehow occurs in educational contexts. Interpreters are expected simply to sign what they hear and speak whatever signs they see.

Monikowski and Winston (2003) provide an overview of the history of interpreting and sign language interpreting definitions, ranging from that of Seleskovitch (1978) and Seleskovitch and Lederer (1989) to those of Neuman Solow (1981), Colonomos (1992), Roy (2000), Metzger (1995), and Wadensjo (1998), all of which look far beyond this simplistic definition. Seleskovitch (1978) defines interpreting as a trilogue. Roy (2000), in her early work, describes interpreting as

a linguistic and social act of communication, and the interpreter’s role in this process is an engaged one, directed by the knowledge and understanding of the entire communicative situation, including fluency in the languages, competence in appropriate usage within each language, and in managing the cross-cultural flow of talk. (3)

Wadensjo (1998) describes the interpreting process as a “pas de trois” that must be considered from the perspectives of all the interactants. Metzger (1995) provides insight into the importance of the various frames of the participants, including that of the interpreter, in interpreted interactions. Interpreting is interaction among three or more people; the naïve assumption that deaf students and hearing teachers have access to each other without the filter of interpretation and the interpreter is not true. Yet, the educational system ignores this basic feature of interpreting—that it is always mediated by a third person (the interpreter), with all the language seen or heard by the participants as being, at least in part, the interpreter’s language influenced by his or her own filters, knowledge, and experience.

Cazden (1988, 2001) has conducted in-depth analyses of hearing classrooms. Although she does not focus on deaf students or on interpreted education, her observations and insights into the dynamics of interaction in a classroom shed a bright light onto the consequences of an interpreted education. She reminds us of the consequences of both language and timing in a classroom: “In order to be heard as appropriate, a student not only has to speak the right words but also has to say them at the right time” (1988, 185).

The fundamental characteristic of interpreting that cannot be changed is that it is interpretation. It is not direct and certainly is not the mythical “exact word for word, sign for sign” rendition that naïve users of interpreting so often believe happens. Every sign the deaf student sees and every word the teacher and peers hear are those of the interpreter, who is mediating the original intent (Roy 2000; Metzger 1995; Wadensjo 1998). An effective, dynamic interpretation strives to make the interpretation similar in meaning to the original, but no matter how expert, how effective and dynamic, it will still be mediated and different. This characteristic is true regardless of the target language, be it English, ASL, English signing, or cued speech. A deaf student, communicating through the process of interpreting, can never be “heard” as appropriate; only the interpreter is heard. Unfortunately, although the interpreter is the one who is heard, the deaf student is often the one who is judged, and judged as inappropriate, whether it is because the interpreter hesitates and falters when he or she does not understand the student’s signing, whether it is simply because the interpreter’s voice is an adult female voice like the teacher’s acting as if it were a young child, or whether it is because of many other factors that come into play during the interpretation.

An interpreted education is, then, by definition, a mediated, secondhand education, perhaps similar to the education intended for the hearing students, but never the same. To date, no research discusses the added cognitive loads that this process brings to deaf students in interpreted education. And, although watching an interpreted education is commonly accepted as being more tiring, little research actually supports this premise. The understanding that interpreting has an effect on every piece of knowledge and language that goes through the interpreter is of fundamental importance for anyone in a position to place a deaf child into an interpreted education.

Interpreted Education and Lag Time

One consequence of the processing of the source language to the target language is very clearly measurable and easily understood. Time is essential to the processing of information (as are adequate first and second language skills, skilled interpreting, and understanding of education). This time has been referred to as “lag time,” “decalage,” and “processing time.” Lag time has been used to describe the amount of time that an interpreter “lags” behind the source speaker before producing the target message (Seleskovitch and Lederer 1989; Roy 2000). Depending on the complexity of the source meaning, the lag between the original message and the interpreted message can be less than a second or as much as two to three minutes or more in consecutive interpreting.

The term lag time has been discarded by most sign language interpreters as being too focused on the production of messages rather than on the processes that go into the production and as being too negative in its reference to being “behind.” The term processing time more accurately reflects the need for an interpreter to analyze and then produce a meaningful message. This preferred term refers to a positive activity that should add value to an interpretation rather than imply a negative tardiness in message making.

Nevertheless, lag time may still be a more appropriate term for this discussion. From the perspective of the deaf student receiving the message, the student is lagging, is therefore unable to participate on an equal basis with hearing peers, and is judged on his or her social interaction abilities because of this lagging behind. For the purpose of this discussion, I will use the term lag time because I am discussing the negative effect that this time difference has on classroom interaction. In effect, the deaf student cannot have normal interaction; the interaction does, by virtue of interpretation, lag behind. Regardless of an interpreter’s skill, this characteristic cannot be changed.

However, participants can modify interactions to account for lag time. Roy (2000) discusses participants’ learning about the lag involved in interpreted interactions. Hearing participants who are used to interpreted interactions can hold their responses while waiting for an interpretation to be finished. They are, of course, still ready to respond before the deaf person, having that “holding” time in which to process their responses. In an interpreted classroom, however, only the teacher has the authority and power to actually change the interactions to accommodate interpreting. The teacher must actively and consciously hold up the process to allow for deaf student interaction. He or she must do it consistently. Interpreters can help the teacher remember and can actively remind everyone of the need to wait, but unless the teacher is willing to adapt the interactions of the entire class to meet the needs of interpreting, lag time will always be the burden of the deaf student. Thus, educators must understand the serious consequences of both lag time and the mediation of interpreted educations discussed above. Cazden (2001) reminds us that classrooms have been moving from more traditional to less traditional, with more and more focus on student interaction, collaborative learning, and the essential processes of using language through which children learn. These points of focus require direct interaction and, thus, are prohibited through interpreted educations.

Interpreted Education and Multiple Channels of Input

Arelated constraint is the fact that interpreters can process and then produce only one incoming message at a time. If two people are speaking or signing at the same time, then someone must decide which message takes priority. With adults, this responsibility is sometimes the task of the deaf person, sometimes the task of the interpreter, and rarely the task of the hearing person. In an interpreted education, where power structures and maturity levels are different, practically speaking, only the teacher can regulate multiple input. An interpreter can (and should) consistently remind the teacher, and theoretically, a student can also do so (if we ignore the power structures ingrained in education). But practically speaking, the teacher is the only person who can effectively manage this responsibility. He or she has the option to decide whether turn-taking will be spontaneous or recognized, whether responses will involve a single student or a choral response from the group, whether he or she will allow a cacophony of different responses or a single one.

The need for a single input, one at a time, leads into the first analysis presented in this study—the presentation of content through a variety of channels. Many hearing classroom activities rely on simultaneous presentation of both visual and auditory information: demonstrating an experiment while describing it, showing a picture while asking about it, watching a video while listening to the narration. Whenever this type of simultaneous presentation of information occurs, interpreting provides access to half of it—the spoken message—and interpreting prevents accessibility to the other half of it—looking at the visual aid (Winston 1994, 2001).

Interpreted Education and Visual Accessibility

Classroom information is often effectively presented to hearing students by talking and demonstrating things simultaneously. The teacher tries to encourage the involvement of students in the learning process by appealing to their senses, especially those of sight, sound, and touch (seeing, hearing, and doing). And this approach works well most of the time. Of course, hearing students are, at times, overwhelmed when they are asked to listen to directions, watch a demonstration, and do an experiment, all at the same time. But often, describing an action while demonstrating it is very effective for hearing students. This simultaneous presentation of information is the commonplace means of presenting information in the hearing classroom. Hundreds of ordinary examples elucidate the method, including watching a movie (all those educational documentaries with pictures of wildlife and a narrator talking in the background); writing on the board and talking at the same time; asking students to look at a handout while explaining its use to them.

And each of these activities, each of these simultaneous presentations to the eyes and ears, becomes inaccessible by means of interpreting. They are uninterpretable as a simultaneous event. When the spoken part of the activity is interpreted into signs, the deaf student must use the eyes to watch the interpretation. And watching the interpretation means that the student cannot simultaneously watch the demonstration, the movie, the writing, the paper, or whatever else is being watched by the hearing students. In these situations, interpreting, in effect, raises a tremendous barrier to full accessibility in the mainstreamed classroom. We cannot avoid this fact; we cannot ignore this enormous problem created by an interpreted education. At least, the deaf student cannot avoid or ignore it, even if the educators can.

Thus, another fundamental characteristic of interpreting is that it must be accessible. For the most part, accessibility means that interpreting must be visible to the deaf student. If it cannot be seen, then the deaf student cannot have access. Although this need for visibility seems obvious, many barriers block seeing an interpretation: the need to write notes, the need to read from a homework paper, the need to watch a movie or demonstration, the need to read information from the board while the teacher is writing and talking at the same time. Each time the deaf student is forced to look away from the interpretation to see the other required visual input, the interpreting becomes inaccessible. And, each time the deaf student looks at the interpretation, the other required visual input is lost.

In earlier research, Winston (1990, 1994) has identified and discussed five categories of instructional activities that occurred in interpreted fourth-grade classes. The activities in these categories were analyzed for visual accessibility—the ability of a deaf student to access the entire activity visually during the time frame used by hearing peers. Activities allowing access to content visually when interpreted that was equal to the access hearing peers had while listening were considered interpretable without modification. No activity was found to be completely accessible through interpretation.

The categories analyzed were lecture, teacher-led discussion (also labeled as Question and Answer) without and with visual references, reading aloud, independent study, and group work. Lectures, with no other visual aids, no note-taking, and no need to use the eyes for competing visual input, were considered the most interpretable and visually accessible. Lectures that required note-taking, looking at demonstrations, or reading from a text, for example, all added another layer of visual barrier to the activity. Teacher-led discussions, reading aloud, group work, and independent work all added layers of visual barriers that made them difficult to access by means of interpreting. The hierarchy of accessible activities can be compared with classroom activities in traditional and nontraditional classrooms. Traditional classrooms lean toward more teacher-driven lecture; nontraditional classrooms lean toward more student interaction, including collaborative learning and constructive interchanges with group work and peer learning. Interpreting intervenes in these activities, denying to deaf children the direct communication through which and from which hearing children are expected to learn. This tangible effect must be considered when placing students in interpreted educations.

Interpreted Education and English Ways of Talking

Interpreting involves additional factors that are much more subtle and even more serious than visual accessibility. The process of education involves a way of talking that not only provides content but also provides information about how we talk about that content in English. Those students with adequate language skills learn the subtle nuances of style and vocabulary from classroom presentations. Most important, these students continue to build their English literacy skills. Hearing students are assumed to learn both content and English ways of talking, or academic language (Cazden 2001). Having acquired native language skills, hearing students continue to develop their academic language. Cazden notes:

For reasons already set forth, students’ continued language development throughout their years in school is important. In the short run—here and now—on the path to clarification and new knowledge, articulating ideas more clearly and completely is important for speakers themselves. Moreover, as classrooms change toward a community of learners, all students’ public words become part of the curriculum for their peers. In the longer run, oral, as well as written, communication skills are increasingly important in the worlds of work and civil society. (2001, 169)

This language development assumes that basic language acquisition has already occurred. This assumption is an issue that goes far beyond the accepted myths that language acquisition, and specifically English acquisition, can occur by watching an interpretation. Other chapters in this volume (Monikowski, Stack) illustrate this point. Wilber (2003), Schick (2003), and Sofinski (2002) all document the non-Englishness of English signing, discrediting the belief that English acquisition is possible by using interpretation. Winston (2004) discusses some of the language myths of interpreted education, including the issues of acquisition of ASL and English. The language development discussed here is a level of language sophistication that students develop beyond basic acquisition. Language users need to incorporate these levels of language sophistication to appear intelligent and educated in our society. The very fact that education is presented in primarily spoken English makes this need clear. In addition, hearing students are expected to learn how to write English through hearing it. This approach to learning the “talk” of academia is not accessible to deaf students. Whether the interpreted education is in ASL or in a form of English signing, deaf students’ only access to English is through writing.

Interpreted Education and Discourse Styles

Finally, our discussion considers the discourse style of the teacher in the classroom. Discourse patterns of pacing, explicitness, redundancy, and turn-taking are different for each teacher. Some patterns more compatibly fit into interpreting than others. Although one can change a discourse style or pattern for short periods of time, interpreters have long found that teachers who are asked to slow down to accommodate interpreting are able to manage this change for only minutes at most. Although the community wisdom assumes that the hearing classroom teacher is one essential factor for effective interpreted education, this study is the first to relate discourse styles and patterns that are effective for interpretation to the discourse patterns found among classroom teachers. Finding classroom teachers whose styles and teaching approaches are more compatible with the needs of interpreting is an essential first step in choosing an interpreted environment. Then, of course, the teacher must still be willing to seriously focus on further adaptations if the environment is to be even minimally accessible through interpreting.

The constraints and limitations of interpreting need to be recognized and accommodated to achieve minimal education access. A teacher who uses activities that fail to accommodate, whose teaching style does not allow for time and language constraints, who does not recognize that one cannot make direct judgments of language generated by interpreting, and who does not understand that all visual input must be accessible will not be able to provide the minimum requirements for an accessible education. The teacher, whose style and choice of activities recognizes the visual needs of interpreted educations may be able to provide at least the minimum environment required for access to an interpreted education.

An interesting dilemma occurs when a teacher has a style that relies heavily on visual imagery. Although this style might seem to fit well with the visual needs of deaf students, it can, and often does, create even more serious conflicts in the interpreted classroom. Some teachers tend toward a visual style of teaching, using demonstrations, drawings, hand gestures, and so forth to support and supplement their teaching. However, whenever these visual supports occur simultaneously with their spoken input, the result creates an automatic barrier for the deaf student who then must choose which input to watch. A hearing student who watches a demonstration while listening to the teacher talk uses ears and eyes simultaneously. For a deaf student to have adequate and similar access to the same information, the activity must be transformed from being simultaneous to being sequential, where the student can first see the interpretation and then see the demonstration (or vice versa). This constraint is neither changeable nor modifiable. Thus, the accessibility of an interpreted education rests with the ability and willingness of the classroom teacher to transform all teaching and communication activities from being simultaneous to being sequential. Some teachers make this change as a matter of course. Others do not.

THIS STUDY

This study examines classes being taught about a variety of subjects to a variety of grade levels by a variety of teachers. These situations reflect some of the possible choices that educators and parents have when they decide on an interpreted education. Some of the factors that affect interpretability and accessibility are evident throughout; other factors are evident depending on the discourse and teaching style of the teacher.

Data Collection

Observing and collecting data in public school classrooms can be problematic. Although one can observe the accessibility and interpretability of classes without using video, for the purposes of research, video is essential. It provides a source for review of linguistic and visual accessibility issues and allows for the inclusion of specific examples in the discussion. Obtaining permission to record classes, however, is problematic. The concerns for student and teacher privacy need to be honored, and the possible disruptions to a class can be considerable. In addition, obtaining permission to share the data with others once it is recorded is often difficult to do.¹

Because of the issues related to collecting new data, this research takes advantage of a set of classroom videos recorded in 1993 for a U.S. Department of Education grant about educational interpreting (Public School in Action Videotapes 1993). These videos were recorded in a school system, and permissions were obtained to tape and share the videos. They were taped by professional videographers, using multiple cameras, who were able to record adequate sound and to adjust the camera angles and edit the final video so specific speakers are visible. When the teacher is talking, the camera used is one focused on the teacher; when a student or group activity takes precedence, that view is often available. These views are shifted within the actual time frame of the interactions, so turn-taking intervals and rhythms can be observed and noted.

The professional taping provided helpful advantages; in addition, the grant developers prepared a manual to accompany the tapes (Public School in Action Videotapes 1993). The manual provides a brief description of each class, including grade level, subject matter, length of class time, and teacher name, Also included is a list of vocabulary that were considered key for interpreting in the class.

An added benefit to using these materials is that they are available for anyone to order, making the discussion in this study more accessible and providing an opportunity for interpreters, teachers, and parents to practice analyzing interpretability issues using the tapes.

Data Selection

The study analyzed fourteen classes, with nine teachers. Class choices were based on grade level, subject matter, and teacher gender to have a variety of observations across grade levels and subjects, when possible, and to have both male and female teachers. The courses analyzed are described in-depth in the following section. (See appendix A for a list of specific classes analyzed in this study.)

At least three different teachers were analyzed for each subject. A mix of female and male was chosen when possible; however, in the original taped observations, only female teachers were taped at the elementary level. English as a subject was taught only by female teachers and only at the elementary and middle school levels, and history and science were available only at the middle and high school levels. It was possible to observe at least one person teaching two different classes at each level.

DISCUSSION AND ANALYSIS OF CLASS ACTIVITY TYPES

The initial intent of this study was to determine the interpretability and accessibility of hearing-sound-based classrooms by analyzing them for the types of activities used to present content and for the length of time these activities were used. Results of this initial analysis led to further questions based on the findings. All of the activities listed in the first section of this chapter were found in at least two classes, with the exception of lectures. None of the teachers used lecture as a way to present content. Instead of lectures, the primary activity used for presentation of content was teacher-led discussion, that is, short periods of talk by the teacher involving no more than eight to ten minutes at a time, followed by questions to the students and responses from them. Most teacher commentary lasted less time, usually between two and three minutes in between student input. Group work in which three or more students collaborated on an assignment was rare in these observations, occurring only during one class as a required main activity. Independent work was also observed in this class, but only when a student’s partner or members of a group were absent for that class. One other class had group work of this type; in that class, students had the option of working together, working with a tutor, or working independently while the teacher worked individually with some of them.

Lectures in the Observed Classes

Lectures that have a single teacher talking without interruption and without the need to refer to other visual input (i.e., demonstrations, overheads, note-taking, etc.) are the most visually accessible and, therefore, the most interpretable environment (represented in Table 1, Row 1). Lecture-style courses of this type would allow the deaf student the most similar access during an interpreted education. The only interpreting constraint that cannot be changed is the lag time required for information processing by the interpreter, which leaves the deaf student perpetually behind the rest of the class.

However, no instances of lecture occurred in the 14 classes observed, classes spanning high school history, math, and science; middle school science and history–social studies; and elementary math and reading. Thus, the most interpretable and accessible form of interpreted education was not available to a deaf student in these classes.

TABLE 1  Analysis of Classroom Activities

Teacher-Led Discussion

Cazden (2001) describes teacher-led discussions as the time “in which the teacher controls both the development of a topic (and what counts as relevant to it) and who gets a turn to talk” (30). Typically, a teacher initiates a topic, question, or interaction to which a student (or students) responds in some manner after which the teacher acknowledges the response (or actively ignores it) and evaluates it in some way. This evaluation may be the statement “Right” to an answer, it may be a request to expand or repeat, or it may be an aside related to the student comment. These sets of interactional turns are called topically related sets (TRSs) and make up the structure of many classroom lessons. In these data, teacher-led discussions make up the majority of classroom time. In an analysis of these classroom activities, two subcategories have an effect on access to the discussion for deaf students: (a) activities in which students respond to teacher-led interactions without the use of visual references such as homework papers, text books, or models and (b) activities that require students to refer to some type of visual content.

Teacher-Led Discussion without Visual References

This type of activity is the second most visually accessible activity in an interpreted education. Because a deaf student can watch the interpretation of the teacher’s talk and then watch the interpretation of the students’ responses, the student theoretically is still able to access the input. The interpreting constraint of lag time is, of course, always present. In addition, the act of turn-taking adds to the level of visual inaccessibility. Hearing students, in addition to accessing the information with their ears, often look at the speaker to identify who is participating as well as to see mood and intent. They then turn back to the teacher.

In the classrooms observed, discussions without visual reference occurred rarely, and when they occurred, they were usually related either to context-related questions (e.g., Where did Andy go?, Who has a question about that concept?) or to side issues arising from the discussion.

However, discussion without visual reference does seem to be a staple of one teacher’s class—a second-grade reading classroom—and it poses one of the most interesting mixes of accessible and inaccessible conditions. In this case (discussed in-depth later in the English section), Mrs. B.A.’s class alternated between one and two minutes of poetry reading followed by discussion about what the children understood, liked, thought, or wanted. An example of this interaction is when students are asked to think about whether or not they would like to be a king or queen (Tape 3, 21.00–29.00 min.). When answering, the students had to provide a reason for their answers. For example, various students contributed that the negatives might be going to war and having responsibilities, keeping track of money, needing to dress perfectly all the time. Other students contributed positives such as having money and being rich as well as wearing wonderful clothes. None of these answers required that the students be reading from a paper, taking notes, or checking to see whether they had the “right” answer. A deaf student in this activity would have fewer competing visual claims on his or her eyes than when referring to a paper. As discussed in a later section related to English use, the problems of using sound-based English as a starting point are problematic (e.g., Could the student understand the story when first read to a degree that would allow him or her to respond? Could a story not based on rhymes be used? Could a signed story or a written story—rather than a read-aloud story—be used?). But, in this situation, the activity itself, using open discussion based on felicitous questions is one of the less constrained interpreting activities (see Table 1, Row 3A).

Teacher-Led Discussion with Visual References

Teacher-led discussion with visual references was by far the most frequent type of activity across the classes observed. Visual accessibility for the deaf or hard of hearing student during this activity is limited by the factors that affect both lecture and teacher-led discussions without paper (lag time, turn-taking) and is compounded by the expectation that students will be simultaneously listening to the teacher and looking at a visual reference (e.g., a homework sheet, a text book, etc.) as well as responding in a timely and appropriate manner to questions.

An extreme example of this activity is in a high school math class. Mr. D.O. begins class by standing in front of the class and reading from the homework assignment. This activity lasts for only two minutes but is essential in leading into the rest of the class. He reads the answers, saying (Tape 11, 43.00–45.00 min.),

1–18 [questions 1 through 18]

1—A to the X plus Y

2 is 1 (looks up and removes glasses) Now I think that is by far the best answer to number two because you get P to the 0 and that comes out to be 1. So you really ought to put 1 down as the answer there. OK?

Number 3—B to the X minus Y

Number 4—R to the 2T

Number 5—C to the W plus t minus V

Number 6—P to the S plus Q over Q. Hope I read that right. Did I? (never looks up)

Seven— …

While he is reading, the students in class are looking at their papers to see whether they have the correct answers. Mr. D.O. does not pause or look up to see whether the students are following; he speaks through the entire two minutes. Only at the end of this reading does he ask what questions they have.

Deaf students can either look at the interpretation or look at the homework sheet or text, but not both simultaneously. They cannot correct their papers and watch the interpretation at the same time. The extent to which this type of activity occurs simultaneously must be a primary concern when choosing an interpreted education (see Table 1, Row 3B).

Reading Aloud

Reading aloud is also an activity that requires hearing students to listen to auditory input, watch visual input, and at times also perform some type of expressive language. To the extent that reading aloud is part of classroom activities, it is subject to the same interpreting and visual accessibility issues. Deaf students must choose between watching the interpretation of what is being read and reading for themselves from the text. They cannot do both at the same time. Either choice seriously limits the amount of input the deaf student receives in comparison to his or her hearing peers.

If the deaf student chooses to watch the interpretation for the message, he or she is barred from reading the written English that each hearing child is experiencing and is barred, as described earlier, from making any connection between the sounds, or even the signs, and the written word (see Table 1, Row 5). Reading aloud as a class activity is discussed further in the section about English literacy, and an example is provided there.

Group Work

Group work was not a frequent activity in most of the courses observed, but that is a problem of the data used. The science courses in high school, for example, referred to lab periods when the students would be spending time in groups. The extent to which group work makes up a bigger picture in the educational environment of a class needs further study.

It was possible to observe group work in three classes—one middle school history class as well as the elementary school reading and math classes. Visual accessibility in groups poses a slightly different challenge. As students work together and take turns, the issues involved in question-and-answer interactions come up again. The hearing students can look at the work and can simultaneously listen to the other students talking about it. They can also participate in the flow of discussion. In addition, they can hear the teacher adding comments or directions to the class while they continue to look at the experiment or project under discussion. In one history class at the high school level, students were working on collaborative projects in groups of two to four students (Tape 12). Each group worked on their projects, and the teacher moved from group to group to provide help and guidance. When the teacher stood with a group, either they all looked at her or all, including her, looked at the papers, charts, and books with which they were working. Interaction was much less teacher-nominated, and group members were able to ask or comment spontaneously. This type of turn-taking, combined with intensive use of other visual input, makes access to interpreted group work problematic. Although this type of group work was not available to observe in many courses, teachers did refer to it as a type of activity that had great importance. One science teacher, for example (Tape 11), was presenting information and holding discussions in preparation for lab activities that were to happen on subsequent days.

A variation of group work was also observed. Students, or students and tutors, were paired to work together. Because of the limited number of participants in these situations, the deaf student has easier visual access to the person whose speech is being interpreted, and there is less chance that overlap will occur. This characteristic of paired work makes it somewhat more visually accessible than larger group work. This type of pairing occurred primarily in the elementary school settings, with much of it being adult-student pairing for tutoring. Of the observed classes, most pairing of this type occurred in reading classes, where visual accessibility is confounded by questions of linguistic accessibility, an issue that is discussed in the next section.

Independent Work

The final activity observed in these classes was independent work. This type of activity would seem to be the most visually accessible for a deaf student, since he or she can attend directly to the project or assignment at hand and not have to mediate access through interpretation. However, independent work as observed in these classes rarely allowed students to simply attend to the assignment. Most often, it was interspersed with teacher instructions or commentary. For example, in one eighth-grade English class, the teacher directs students to get paper and copy some paragraphs from the overhead. As they begin copying, she continues to talk and, among other things, informs them that they will have a quiz the following week (Tape 7, 37.31 min.). Although the independent work did not continue for long, the fact that the students were expected to look back and forth from paper to overhead to do the copying task and were simultaneously being told essential information verifies the problematic nature of individual work.

At other times, the teacher talked to one student while the others worked, but the others had full access to the content of that discussion. If they heard something relevant, they could easily join in to ask a question or participate in the discussion. Deaf students do not have this option. They must choose between (a) focusing entirely on the work and losing all teacher input, (b) being constantly interrupted by the interpretation of teacher input while they are trying to work, (c) attending to only the interpreted input and losing the time required to do the work itself. Independent work time was often a much more social time for the hearing students, an opportunity that is again lost to the deaf student (see Table 1, Row 4).

Summary of Class Activity Discussion

Each type of interpreted activity imposes constraints to visual access through interpreting. Some activities impose these constraints less than others, and the amount of time each activity occurs in a classroom needs to be an important consideration for choosing a classroom for interpretation. In these observations, lecture, which offers the least constraint, did not occur. Teacher-led discussions without visual references, offering the next least constraint, occurred rarely. The activities that impose the most limitations to visual access were the activities that occurred most frequently. Teacher-led discussions with visual references occurred most frequently, imposing constraints involving visual aids (e.g., paper), turn-taking, and lag time. Although they occurred less frequently, group work and independent work imposed numerous constraints, making them difficult to access visually.

DISCUSSION AND ANALYSIS OF LANGUAGE EXPECTATIONS

Because all of the activities presented some level of visual inaccessibility, two further analyses were conducted. The first analysis focused on the linguistic accessibility of these classrooms, specifically on the expectations that English—spoken, written, or both—was being learned by the hearing students. The second analysis focused on the discourse patterns of the teachers and the compatibility of those patterns with the constraints of interpreting. For the purpose of building a more complete picture of whole classrooms, I have chosen from the data three classrooms that span the range of potential for interpreted education. I will provide examples from each of these teachers, building a picture of the teacher and classroom as amenable to interpreting or not. The three classes are elementary school English, middle school science, and high school math. All three are primarily interactive exposition and incorporate visual references to support and explain the content. The teachers all have some focus on both written and spoken English. An analysis of only the activities in these classes shows that each would be equal in terms of accessibility or inaccessibility to a deaf student through interpreting.

Notwithstanding, these teachers had a wide range of expectations about English learning and displayed a range of discourse styles that could affect the interpretability of their respective classes. If we relied solely on the activity analysis above, then all three would be considered fairly inaccessible. However, by continuing the analysis, some mitigating factors that might make them more or less interpretable and accessible become apparent. If interpreted educations are chosen, this type of in-depth assessment of the classrooms must become common practice. In-depth analysis of these three classes makes evident that one has the potential to be somewhat accessible with minor modification, one has some undoubtedly modifiable and some particularly nonchangeable aspects that make it problematic, and one requires so many essential modifications that it would not be recommended for interpreting.

The Classes and Teachers

The three classes chosen from the data for further analysis and discussion represent an eighth-grade science class (Ms. B.I., teacher); a second-grade English class (Mrs. B.A., teacher); and a high school math class (Mr. D.O., teacher). Each is described in more detail here. In addition, the data included observations of six other teachers, which are referred to in general ways to provide perspective to these specific observations.

Ms. B.I. teaches an eighth-grade science class that runs for forty minutes. She is introducing new content to the class during this observation and is requiring that each student assemble a model of a generator at his or her desk during the lesson. At times, Ms. B.I. lets them work independently while she walks around helping individuals. Students are seated in a U shape around the room, with pairs of desks facing each other. At first glance, this environment appears to be quite inaccessible because of the potential conflicting visual input and the fact that many students are not facing the teacher.

Mrs. B.A. teaches a second-grade English class that runs for thirty-five minutes and that is followed by forty-five minutes of independent work. In the first thirty-five minutes, she focuses on creative writing and reads sections of English rhyming stories to the class to begin discussions about how to write their own stories. Students are seated in small groups, then move to sit on the floor for part of the period. After discussion, the students work individually, and she walks around helping them. This class also appears to be notably inaccessible because of not only the environment but also the reliance on English sound and writing.

Mr. D.O. teaches three math classes, two at the high school level and one at middle school level (but the class analysis in this study is of one of the high school classes). His style and approach do not change significantly from one class to the other. He has students check their homework by reading them the answers, then interacts with them as they discuss various problems they are doing for homework or study in the class. He writes on the board, uses overheads, and reads from the students’ papers. At various times during the class, he has students work individually while he walks around providing attention to them on an individual basis. Students are seated in small clusters facing a variety of directions. This class appears to be remarkably inaccessible because of the reliance on both visual and auditory input.

Although each class seems fairly similar in terms of activity, the discourse styles of the teachers vary. Thus, although each class is problematic because of the type of activity (interaction with added visual references), the possibility that they might be modifiable, depending on the teacher’s willingness and ability to do so, is possible in Ms. B.I.’s class, possible with some concerns in Mrs. B.A.’s class, and possible but unlikely in Mr. D.O.’s class.

Looking only at simultaneous versus sequential styles of presentation (see Table 2), it appears that Ms. B.I.’s presentation of content is closer to being accessible than either Mrs. B.A.’s or Mr. D.O.’s. Further analysis of additional features tends to confirm this observation. However, analysis of these teachers’ discourse styles reveals the potential for modifying some classes that have moderate barriers to accessibility.

Analyses of classroom activities like those done in this study can be easily performed by any observer. They do not require a knowledge of sign language, bilingual education, or interpreting. Simply noting which activities are used, to what frequency, and for how long is enough. A watch and a checklist are all that is necessary for any teacher, administrator, parent, or other decision maker to get a clear sense of the number and severity of constraints that will limit visual access to educational content.

However, in analyzing a potential classroom for interpretability, one needs to understand more than just the visual barriers involved. Serious, although less easily recognizable, barriers inhibit language access. The expectations of language access for hearing students in education are serious and must be part of the assessment of any interpreted education. The considerations of language are discussed in the next section and in Table 3.

TABLE 2  Simultaneous versus Sequential Presentation of Content

English in Ms. B.I.’s Class

In Ms. B.I.’s science class, much of the class time is focused on helping students understand the concepts of electricity. Little formal modeling of academic English occurs during the class, and many interactions involve more informal, everyday discussions using simple examples (e.g., water pushing through a hose, toast being burned, lightning). A few terms are included as “given,” or known, information as she asks students to think about what electricity is. She refers to electrons, but from her use of the term, this use is as a known rather than as a new term.

A few new vocabulary terms are introduced during this observation. One term is voltage. The term is not only a new concept for the class but also a new English term. Ms. B.I. is careful to make sure that the students understand the concept, the pronunciation, and the written form as well as other visual representations of the term. She explains the concept with words, drawings, and gestures. As she gets to the end of this explanation, she summarizes the concept and introduces the term itself (Tape 8, 52.42 min.):

Inside the power source there are electrons. The electrons have to get from the power source out. That PUSH, coming from the source, is called voltage. So you should write this down.

Voltage is the push of electricity coming from a power source. (Approximately seventeen-second pause occurs while she has them write this information in their notes. During this time, she responds to one student individually—not class directed—by repeating the part of the written English she wants the student to write. Ms. B.I. then repeats the sentence for the entire class.)

Yeah, electricity or voltage is the push of electricity from a power source to another object or to another source. (Approximate 10-second pause)

This example includes Ms. B.I. reinforcing the pronunciation of the English term and the formal English sentence structure. She also reinforces the written form of the English term and structure, requiring that each student write the full English sentence with the term into their notebooks. This emphasis is important enough for her that she leaves two long pauses, walking from student to student to check on their writing to ensure that they have the English form correct.

Although a deaf student would not have access to the pronunciation of the English term, an interpreter could provide the fingerspelled form of this term for the student. If the student is able to understand the fingerspelling and has developed the skill of connecting these handshapes to written alphabetic symbols, then he or she will be able to produce the written term in his or her notes.

Ms. B.I. is aware of the need to make the written form of English explicit for the students, and she writes some vocabulary on the board. Asking her to expand her use of writing would be a modification that would not unduly change either her presentation in the classroom or her discourse patterns.

English in Mrs. B.A.’s English Class

This class presents a dilemma for interpreting. Mrs. B.A. has a moderate discourse pace; uses redundancy and includes explicit references often; regulates turn-taking to one person at a time, identifying students by name and repeating their input often; and tends to present content through various modes sequentially, for example, by first saying it, then showing it.

Yet, her course is English, and it is taught in the fashion that hearing people use to teach English, by basing instruction on sound. Although her discussions focus more on content than on English form, she introduces those discussions through spoken English form, specifically by reading aloud rhyming English poems or stories. The class discussion about whether the students wanted to be king or queen, discussed previously, is an example of this emphasis. She introduces the discussion of royalty by reading aloud from the story, Jonathon Bing (Tape 3, 21.07 min.).

Poor old Jonathon Bing
Went out to his carriage
To visit the king.
But everyone pointed and said, “Look at that!”
“Jonathon Bing has forgotten his …” (She points to her head and waits for students to add the rhyming word hat, which they do.)
(Students, in a chorus, respond) “hat.”

Mrs. B.A. continues to read through the text in this manner, leaving out rhyming words at the end of sentences and expecting a choral response from the class to fill in the last word. This activity, which occurs daily in English and reading classes, especially at the elementary level, presents some insurmountable barriers to an interpreted education:

Observations of the other elementary reading-English class indicate that the teacher there relies heavily on rhyming stories, on sound-based reading approaches, and on “best guess” spelling in creative writing (i.e., that students are encouraged to sound out the word and figure out the spelling phonically). This approach is used through entire classes. Asking this teacher or any teacher to modify this type of English-based approach would involve imposing serious changes to his or her style and approach, which may not be feasible.

English in Mr. D.O.’s Math Class

The analysis here is of Mr. D.O.’s math class at the high school level. Although English form is not the conscious focus of this class, correct and appropriate English jargon is required to demonstrate competence in math. Students hear the teacher read a formula, an equation, or a format and are expected, implicitly, to repeat it and to talk about it and other formulas according to the model. Like Ms. B.I.’s science class, this ability may be assumed to be given knowledge for these students. However, Ms. B.I.’s use of science jargon was limited to single words and phrases in formal, but usual, English grammatical structures whereas math consists of specific terminology and long strings of nonnormal English grammar. Hearing students see equations and, through years of exposure, implicitly match the corresponding English string of words to the symbols. Access to the pronunciation and to the academic jargon, especially as it becomes more distant from normal formal English, becomes more and more inaccessible through interpretation.

Discussion of Language Expectations

Hearing students in the classes described above are assumed to learn both content and English as they take in information. The very fact that education is presented primarily in spoken English makes this point clear. In addition, hearing students are expected to learn how to write English through hearing it. This approach to learning the “talk” of academia is not accessible to deaf students. If the interpreted education is in ASL, then their only access to English is through written forms, forms that require hearing ability to learn in most educational activities. If the interpretation is some form of English signing, then the deaf student still has no access to spoken English.

Given the instructions that English signing systems give to users—to condense and delete portions of a spoken English message—even the most fluently signed English interpretation (often called transliteration) does not come close to being English. Even if these portions were not deleted, the phonology of English signing is so foreign to that of spoken English that a comparison is impossible. No native English speaker will instinctively recognize A for the sound /ay/ without being taught the relationship. Similarly, if they have learned to read, they will not recognize the A handshape for the written letter A. For hearing people, the connection between the sound and the written symbol has been reinforced by years of drills, practice, reading, rhyming, spelling tests, and sound-based instruction. For most deaf students, this reinforcement has not been made adequately, certainly not to the extent that hearing students have had access to it. Researchers such as Stack (chapter 3 in this volume), Wilbur (2003), and Schick (2003) make convincing arguments that these signed systems are not English.

TABLE 3  Expectations of English Exposure

Ultimately, deaf students do not have direct access to English in interpreted classrooms. Once again, the presentation of any “English” information must be shifted from simultaneous to sequential and must incorporate visual bilingual approaches to teaching English. For example, when a teacher says, “Voltage is the push of electricity. That is important and you will see it on your test,” she means that the students must be able to recognize the written words and possibly produce them. Most hearing students write down this information. Typically, a deaf student cannot write and continue to watch the interpretation. (Some can, but it is hard, it is a learned skill, and it is not comparable to what hearing students do.) In addition, when hearing students write, they match the sounds of a word (“Voltage—what does it sound like?: volt plus age.”) to their inventory of sound-to-symbol knowledge of writing. This process is neither possible nor available to deaf students. A deaf student sees a visual symbol or sign with no relation to sound, and must somehow match this symbol to a series of written letters. No adult would expect to see a sign ELECTRIC and automatically know to write e-l-e-c-t-r-i-c. Yet deaf children are expected to do it all day long.

One solution to part of this dilemma might be thought to be fingerspelling in which each letter of a word like voltage is presented to the student. Students capable of reading this type of fingerspelling may benefit from this strategy; many cannot. And not all words are spelled. In fact, interpreters frequently invent signs for jargon and technical terms so they do not have to spell them (we will not discuss here the actual skills of interpreters who do not fingerspell because they find it too difficult). Thus, while hearing students repeatedly hear the sounds, a deaf student may see the spelling only once or twice before they have a sign substituted for it. They must learn the spelling through only a couple of exposures compared with the hearing students’ repeated exposure.

Thus, every time a teacher expects and assumes that hearing students are absorbing the English way of talking about a subject, the teacher cannot assume that the same is happening for deaf students through interpretation. Nor can the teacher assume that the reading aloud by a deaf student represents anything like the language of hearing students. A deaf student “reading aloud” through signs may or may not demonstrate skilled and competent signing; the teacher has no way of judging the signing skill and hears only whatever the interpreter says. The teacher judges the interpretation, not the deaf student’s language. An interpretation of signing cannot exactly represent that signing as speech. When a teacher hears a hearing student stumble on the pronunciation of a word such as photograph, the teacher learns that the student may have difficulties with reading ph. When the teacher hears an interpreter stumble on the word photograph, that teacher has no indication (a) whether the problem is with the deaf student’s articulation, which has nothing to do with ph; (b) whether the problem is with the deaf student’s ability to fingerspell the word, which provides no indication of whether he or she understands it; (c) whether the problem is with the interpreter who either does not know the sign or does not recognize the deaf student’s particular articulation of it; or (d) whether the problem is that the interpreter is unable to read the finger-spelling of the child. Neither the deaf student nor the teacher has access to the sign language or English language information needed to teach English.

One observed feature of reading aloud was the reliance in hearing classrooms on rhyming to create interest for the hearing students. This process does not happen for a deaf student through interpretation. First, the deaf student does not hear the sound, so he or she does not learn to associate the sound with the meaning in an interesting and relevant way. Second, a word that rhymes in English is not a rhyme in sign language, so even the idea of rhyme is not expressed through this activity. While the hearing students are getting clues to aid in prediction during reading and writing—and in short, in literacy—the deaf student is not.

Thus, this activity of reading English aloud, especially when part of its importance is rhyming, is pointless for deaf students. In classrooms conducted in sign language by deaf teachers for deaf students, English stories just like the ones in this hearing classroom are used. However, the focus of the rhyme is on the English form of written spelling—not the sound. The fact that that and hat rhyme in spoken English (and look similar in written English) is a fact that is explicitly taught to these deaf students. It is not implicitly used for the enjoyment of “hearing” it.

The idea of rhyming might well be introduced in a deaf classroom using this story of poor old Jonathan Bing. Signs do have rhymes, and there are specific rhythms that make a signed text enjoyable visually. A signed rhyme relies on the similarity, not of final sounds, but of the use of similar handshapes. A deaf teacher, skilled in sign poetry, could easily give an example of a signed rhyme to explicitly help the students understand the parallels in a spoken language. In other words, the deaf teacher uses strategies of bilingual education to discuss similar functions that are realized differently in signing and in speaking.

This rhyming activity is not interpretable nor accessible. Part of the determination about whether a class like Mrs. B.A.’s could be interpretable would include ascertaining what importance this rhyming activity has in relation to the goals of the class and to the length of time it continues relative to the class whole. Mrs. B.A. uses this activity to introduce each topic but uses it briefly (one to two minutes) and follows it with lengthy discussions based on meaning and understanding, not rhyme. These time periods might be adaptable. Would she be able to substitute other texts that do not rely on English rhyme, for example, texts that could be read silently by the students instead of read aloud? Could she eliminate the chorale responses? And, if she could, would it be advisable, given the learning needs of the other hearing children? These are questions that the educational team must bring to the teacher, and the teacher must decide how or whether to modify his or her presentation accordingly.

DISCOURSE STYLES AND PATTERNS

The field of education uses various typologies for describing and defining the ways that teachers present information in the classroom. Grasha (1996), for example, describes five types of teaching styles that refer to how a teacher presents him- or herself in the classroom. He labels this style as a teacher’s “presence” (Grasha 2004):

Each of these styles has an effect on the learning of students and reflects a teaching approach of the teacher. However, these descriptions do not truly fit the elements of style that have greatest effect on an interpreted education. Style, in combination with the types of activities a teacher tends to use most often in class, can provide or deny a great deal of access for a deaf student, both visually and linguistically. The two elements of style that are especially important for integrating interpreting into an educational environment are (a) the pacing of the input and (b) the redundancy and explicitness of the input.

Discourse Pacing

A teacher’s pacing is an essential factor for interpreting. Some teachers speak quickly and encourage swift turn-taking as well as immediate, sometimes overlapping, responses from students. They can also encourage choral responses that fit into the flow of the presentation. These teachers expect the presentation time to be filled not only with sound but also, in the observations of the classes in this study, with visual references. If students do not respond immediately to a question, a teacher using this style of teaching rephrases or repeats the question, shifts from student to student without waiting, and leaps to call on those students who respond most quickly. The style seems to challenge students to keep up with the flow of the presentation.

Other teachers talk more slowly, state a question and allow a space of silence while the students process the question, and then regulate the responses by calling on specific students. This style seems to be geared to the processing time of the students, allowing for it rather than challenging them to keep up.

This study makes no evaluation of the quality or effectiveness of either style, which is for educators to discuss. The goal of an analysis related to interpreting is simply to identify what makes a teaching style more or less interpretable. Table 4 indicates the levels of discourse pacing for each of the three teachers.

TABLE 4  Analysis of Discourse Pacing

Ms. B.I.’s Discourse Pacing

The opening of Ms. B.I.’s class provides a clear example of discourse pacing that may be fairly interpretable with minimal modification needed from the teacher (Tape 8, 48.00–49.00 min.):

Ms. B.I.: Okay ladies and gentleman, put your bags underneath your desks and get out your notebooks.

(Approximate ten-second pause while she scans the room)

Date the page. … Feb. fourth.

(Allowing approximately twenty-five seconds for students to prepare, she gets a paper for one student and scans the room; students who can be seen on camera are getting ready.)

Everybody set?

(Approximate three-second pause)

Here we go.

(Approximate two-second pause)

Electricity is invisible.

(Approximate five-second pause)

Is that a true statement or a false statement, and when you want to answer, please raise your hand, I forgot to tell you that, so they can zoom in on you, OK?

(Approximate two-second pause before continuing)

In this example, Ms. B.I. speaks at a moderate pace and leaves pauses between her utterances, ranging from twenty-five seconds (while students are getting ready) to two seconds (while she begins the actual lesson). During the longer pauses, while she is scanning the room, waiting for students to put bags under desks, get out paper, and get ready, she does not continue to give directions or explanations; she is comfortable with the silence.

An example of presenting input sequentially occurs after she tells them to put the date on the page. She allows a twenty-five second pause during which she scans the room and speaks quietly only to one or two students, asking whether they need paper, etc. No general instructions or directions are given while they are expected to write. A deaf student could watch the interpreter for the instruction (“Date the page.”), look down to write the date on the paper, and still have time to look back up to see an interpretation of the teacher’s quiet question to one student about having paper.

This pacing is consistent throughout the class, whether she is drawing on the board (first drawing and then speaking), giving directions, or explaining. In the few examples where she expects students to do something while she is speaking, she usually allows time afterwards for the students to finish the activity. Given this teacher’s attention to the students’ need to process, the modifications needed to accommodate interpreting would probably not be difficult to incorporate.

One point in her class that might raise questions is her comment in this example that the students need to raise their hands because of the cameras in the room. Although the presence of cameras can easily affect participants’ behavior, she does not refer to the cameras again. Other teachers refer to this same issue of raising hands and, after the first or second reminder, forget about it. Ms. B.I. does not. Her behavior, which reflects a further positive aspect of her teaching for interpreting, shows that she is cognizant of the need for visual access. A teacher with this awareness already may be much more amenable to the constraints of an interpreted education.

Mrs. B.A.’s Discourse Pacing

Mrs. B.A. presents an interesting mix of interpretable and noninterpretable styles. Although some parts of her class are directly based on English form, which is problematic for interpreted access, many other examples of her pacing are not. During the discussions after short poetry readings, much of the discussion is moderately paced. When she asks a question, she allows silence while she waits for students to raise their hands. At one point in her lesson, she asks students to show the class where contractions occur in the poems (Tape 3, 34.20 min.).

The poem is written on a large paper. After asking the question, she leaves silence while the students look at the written English and raise their hands. She then has various students walk up to the paper and point to the contraction they have found in the written text. Only then does she discuss the specific contraction, its form and its meaning. She does not discuss the contraction while the student is pointing to it, providing some sequentiality in her input. A deaf student would be able to watch peers point out the contraction and then watch the interpretation of the teacher’s discussion. Her tendency to leave silences and to focus on one channel of input at a time makes her pacing more adaptable to interpreting.

Mr. D.O.’s Discourse Pacing

Mr. D.O.’s pacing is significantly different from the other two teachers. He speaks quickly most of the time, and even when he gives students time to work individually on a problem, he usually continues to talk about how to solve the problem while they are working. He continues to talk while he is writing on the board or showing overheads. He also expects students to correct papers while he is reading the answers and to take notes while he is discussing solutions to problems. Pauses between comments are rare.

This style of rapid-fire pacing, with continuous talk and simultaneous input for the hearing students leaves little room for accommodation to the constraints of interpreting. A deaf student trying to attend to the class through interpretation would be constantly forced to choose between looking at the interpretation, looking at homework answers, watching the overhead, and taking notes. The entire learning environment would not be accessible. It would certainly be possible to ask Mr. D.O. to change his pacing, but he would likely not be able to do it for long, even if he were willing to try.

Additional Observations of Discourse Pacing

Of the six other teachers observed, four had pacing styles more similar to Ms. B.I. and Mrs. B.A., which were deliberate and moderately paced and that included pausing and silence. Two of the other teachers were closer to Mr. D.O.’s pacing.

Explicitness and Redundancy of Discourse

A second characteristic of teaching style that is important for interpreting is redundancy. Redundancy includes both repeated information (such as repeating the answers of students) and the rephrasing or re-formulation of important information throughout the discussions, the tying together of lesson content through discourse structures. These aspects of redundancy are evident in statements like, “This is important and you will see it on a test so make sure you know it—the voltage is. …” Redundancy also includes the multiple layers included in any given reference. For example, in referring to a picture, a teacher can simply point toward it. A more explicit or redundant reference might include pointing to it, stating its location (upper left on the board), and naming it (“It’s the picture of the liver.”). Likewise, when repeating a student’s answer, a teacher can simply repeat it or can add explicitness by stating the student’s name, for example, “Andrea says that it is true.”

TABLE 5  Analysis of Explicit and Redundant Discourse

In contrast, lack of explicitness and redundancy make interpreting very difficult. An example would be the teacher who stands in the middle of a room, pointing vaguely toward a blackboard and saying, “That shows that finding values is easy if you just follow what we talked about yesterday.” Almost every referent in that sentence requires some piece of implied information to be understood. Each time an interpreter must process the implications is a time when misinterpretation might occur and a time when the processing time may be lengthened because of the added levels of processing. The same statement made by the teacher standing at the board after adding explicitness could be “That (formula on the right) shows that finding values (for X and Y) is easy if you just follow what we talked about (the adding and subtracting of each side of the formula) yesterday (in the first period of math while we worked on the workbooks).” Table 5 shows the levels of explicitness and redundancy for each teacher.

Ms. B.I.’s Explicitness and Redundancy of Discourse

Ms. B.I. consistently repeats and rephrases student input. After her previous example, she allows a two-second pause and then repeats both her statement and the question she asked about it (see the underlining in the following example). In addition, she not only names the student she is calling on but also gestures directly toward him, providing both visual and auditory input for the students to make the referent clear. This redundancy makes processing the message by the interpreter less difficult and time consuming and makes an error in interpretation less likely to occur.

The student replies to the question by saying that it is false. Ms. B.I. provides redundancy by expanding the response, making it a complete sentence. She asks for more input from the student, and when he provides it, she again expands his answer. This ongoing redundancy makes interpretation more reliable because the references are clearly stated.

Ms. B.I.’s use of explicit references and redundancy through repetition and rephrasing remains consistent throughout the class. In other examples, she also draws pictures on the board to provide both visual and auditory input for the students, and she gestures to accompany some of her comments. This additional input happened in the example above when she both named and gestured toward the student she called on to respond. She also used gestures to point toward the lights in the room as she talked about them, and she used various gestures to demonstrate actions like electrons circling each other and the pressure of water coming out of a hose.

Although the simultaneous use of speech with gesture can raise a barrier to interpretation, this dual input, when accompanied by her attention to pacing and students’ needs for time to process, can accommodate some of the constraints of interpreting. And, if an interpreter is positioned to be able to see Ms. B.I., the interpreter can incorporate the gesture into the interpretation, thus adding redundancy to the interpretation.

Mrs. B.A.’s Explicitness and Redundancy of Discourse

Mrs. B.A. also uses both explicit references and redundant references in her discourse. Like Ms. B.I., she repeats and rephrases her questions, expands comments, and adds visual input to her spoken comments. By using written versions of the readings and by using flash cards to represent specific words, she adds both auditory and visual input for the students.

Mr. D.O.’s Explicitness and Redundancy of Discourse

Mr. D.O.’s discourse frequently lacks explicit reference and redundancy. Although he often stands at the board and talks about things he has written on it, he also often stands in the middle of the classroom and refers to something written on the board without making a clear visual connection. An interpreter may or may not be able to make the connection based on these distant references.

The following example demonstrates another problem for interpreting access. In this example, Mr. D.O. is talking while the students are supposed to be working, filling the “silence” with multiple input, as discussed earlier. He is wandering the room, checking on individual work, talking specifically to different students. He shifts from individual talk to class-directed talk, saying (Tape 11, 1.06 min.),

Don’t forget folks, in a few minutes here you have to convince me that what you are doing is correct! And don’t lose sight of what we started with—the log functions, L-O-G function …

His comment (“Don’t forget folks, in a few minutes here …”) provides a spoken language strategy for getting attention and clearly indicates that something important is coming up. However, no visual break occurs, and no time is allowed for the shift of focus; hearing students must refocus while listening. In addition to not providing time for students to refocus (calling for their attention and leaving them no time in which to shift their attention to him), his comment lacks explicitness. Although the implicit information may seem obvious, making it explicit, as shown by the underlined text in the following example (Tape 11), would aid interpretation.

Don’t forget (one purpose of this activity), folks, in a few minutes here (as we move on to the next part of the activity) you have to convince me (through the use of examples and clear explanations of your processes) that what you are doing (while you are figuring out the logical steps to solving these problems) is correct (for solving these problems).

Although none of these expansions are required, the explicitness that any one of them adds would clarify the source for the interpreter and support clearer interpretation. This teacher does not include any of them, making a large part of the information implicit and more difficult to interpret. He does add some repetition and redundancy at the end of this comment, explicitly stating that what they started with was the log function, then spelling it for them. The relative infrequency of this type of explicitness and redundancy, especially when combined with his fast pace and his consistent expectations of multitasking, make his overall discourse much less amenable to interpreting.

This lack of explicit reference and redundancy is consistent throughout his classes. He does use the board for writing formulas and sometimes uses an overhead. However, when he refers to these visual supports, he often uses references like “that” or “this one” while talking from across the room. A more explicit reference might be “that first formula written on the board”; a more redundant statement to add would be that the formula is the one that corresponds to question number X on their homework sheet.

This discussion of Mr. D.O.’s discourse style should not be interpreted as criticism of his teaching. Whether his input is too much, too fast for the group or whether it is just right is not the question here. Likewise, whether Ms. B.I.’s style is too slow or is appropriate for the group is not being analyzed here. The point here is that some of these discourse styles are more amenable to being interpreted and are, therefore, more appropriate in a classroom that will be chosen for interpreting an education.

Additional Observations of Explicit and Redundant Features

As with discourse pacing, of the other six teachers observed, the same four teachers whose pacing was more deliberate tended to have more explicit and redundant features in their speech. The three who used a faster pace with little intervening silence tended to rely more on implicit references and less redundancy.

Turn-Taking

The third discourse pattern analyzed here is turn-taking management. Both pacing and explicitness are very important to interpreted turn-taking, especially because of the added lag time required for the identification of speaker shift that adds to the lag time for a deaf student. Table 6 illustrates the styles of turn-taking of each of the three teachers.

TABLE 6  Analysis of Turn-Taking

Ms. B.I.’s Turn-Taking Style

In the earlier example of Ms. B.I.’s class, she not only explicitly states the need to raise hands to get a turn but also follows through on this instruction by managing the turn-taking consistently throughout the class. In the example, she gestures toward and names the student she is recognizing for response, and when the student has stated, “false,” she adds redundancy by saying, “It is a false statement.”

Other examples of this type of managed turn-taking occur throughout her class. She almost always names the student recognized as well as repeats or expands the student input.

Mrs. B.A.’s Turn-Taking Style

Like Ms. B.I., Mrs. B.A. manages turn-taking by naming each student before that student responds, and repeats that student’s input, often expanding on it. In this younger class, students tended to forget the interaction rules and, thus, spontaneously respond, but Mrs. B.A. consistently recognizes respondents by name and ignores the occasional multiple responses.

Mr. D.O.’s Turn-Taking Style

Mr. D.O. manages turn-taking differently. He seldom calls on a specific student, allowing any student who might want to respond to do so. This practice often results in several responses at the same time. When several responses do occur, he repeats the response that was correct, adding some redundancy to his discourse.

If a single student responds, he rarely states that person’s name and even more rarely repeats the response. The speed of the turn-taking in his class, especially when added to the lack of naming and the nonrepetition of the responses, makes this type of turn-taking strategy particularly difficult to access by means of interpreting.

Additional Observations of Turn-Taking

In the classes of the other six teachers observed, turn-taking followed similar patterns to discourse pacing as well as explicitness and redundancy. Although each teacher at times regulated turn-taking to single student responses and sometimes named a student as well as gestured to indicate that student’s turn, this management was neither consistent nor frequent.

Although each teacher and academic subject used in the previous discussion focused on a different grade level and although the two classes that are more amenable to interpreting were taught by women teachers whereas the least accessible was taught by a male, this limited set of data shows no indication that grade level, subject, or gender influenced these styles. Mrs. Bayers’s elementary level English class, while problematic, has potential for an interpreted education. Another elementary English class taught by a woman did not. That teacher’s presentation and discourse styles were more similar to Mr. D.O.’s. History and science classes at the high school level, taught by males, ranged from being fairly interpretable, like Ms. B.I.’s class, to being unamenable to interpreting, like a history class and an English class at the high school level, both taught by women.

Discussion of Discourse Patterns

In the classes observed, teachers consistently followed the same discourse style throughout a single class and, when observed across classes, also used the same style. All teachers who had a slower pace were also more redundant; teachers with a faster pace were more likely to be less redundant, although some redundancy was found in each teacher. Although teachers might be able to change their style of pacing and redundancy, years of experience and anecdotal input make it clear that this kind of change does not happen very often. Asking a teacher to slow down has a very brief effect, if any. Asking a teacher to add redundancy is somewhat more effective. Teachers are often willing to write terminology on the board more frequently and will try to repeat student responses and names more often. But the changes are not usually consistent.

Pacing and redundancy, unfortunately, can be a two-edged sword in real-life interpreting. The more redundant the input, the less likely a misinterpretation may occur. However, given the skills and knowledge of many educational interpreters, redundancy and pacing are often used by interpreters to mask their lack of skills. For example, interpreters who are unable to keep up with the pace of a teacher look for silences so they can catch up. Consequently, even though the teacher may have a slow and deliberate pace, the deaf student may never benefit from it unless the interpreter is skilled enough to work with it. Likewise, a teacher’s redundancy performs different important functions: emphasizes important information, makes sure each student has time to process it, or repeats sounds so students can figure out spelling. Many interpreters, both skilled and less skilled, see redundancy as an opportunity to take a break, without recognizing (and certainly without interpreting) these essential functions of redundancy. Although a teacher may repeat a word three times, an interpretation might present it only once because the interpreter does not want to repeat the fingerspelling. In other instances, an interpretation may present a word more than once, as the teacher does, but may present it once as a fingerspelled word and once or twice as an invented sign. The function of redundancy when introducing these types of nonce signs is very different than the function the teacher has in mind.

It is true that the functions of redundancy in an English classroom discourse may be different from those in a signed classroom; for example, emphasis that is marked by repeating a word in English might be marked by holding the sign in the air for a longer than usual period. The point of this discussion is that the function of the redundancy must be included in the interpretation; too often, interpretations include neither an English discourse marker nor an ASL discourse marker. A repeated sentence is simply a chance to take a break or to catch up. The effect is that the deaf student does not receive the same structuring in formation that the hearing students do. Consequently, the deaf student does not know which words are most important, which points are essential, and which ideas are central to the lesson.

Likewise, the redundancy that is added when a teacher names a student in class must also be interpreted, not left out in an attempt to catch up. The repetition of a student’s answer must also be interpreted and not deleted in the interests of interpreting the next question. Thus, slower discourse pacing in combination with redundancy of the teaching are essential to an interpretable classroom, but they must be part of the interpretation, not opportunities for shortcuts.

Thus, the slower pacing can to some extent alleviate the constraints of lag time in an interpreted education. However, slower pacing cannot eliminate lag time, and it should not be used as a time for an interpreter to catch up. Similarly, the inherent redundancy of a teaching style can greatly reduce the opportunities for misinterpretation that occur from misunderstanding of inferences, but it cannot be used as an excuse for eliminating the redundancy to keep up with the message.

Although all teachers and classes had activities that were barriers to an interpreted education, the factors of pacing, redundancy and explicitness, and turn-taking as well as the added visual references can make the same type of presentation more or less accessible. Even the ever present barrier of lag time can be, to some extent, mediated for more effective interpreting. A credible prediction is that classes with teachers who naturally use more features that are compatible with interpreting should more easily adapt to an interpreted education.

SUMMARY AND CONCLUSIONS

Given that all analyzed activities pose a barrier because of lag time and, at least to some extent, because of visual and linguistic accessibility, no interpreted class in this study provided adequate access for an interpreted education. Most of the class time analyzed consisted of teacher-led discussions with other visual content. Although all these classes presented similar challenges, some seemed more modifiable than others. Although most teachers used discussion in combination with some type of focus on English, they demonstrated differences in their styles of talking, of timing, of redundancy and explicitness, and of turn-taking within their presentations. Some teachers tended to speak quickly, rarely repeating anything, relying on inference, allowing rapid-fire turn-taking and students’ spontaneously shouted out answers or questions. Others spoke deliberately, including pausing and silence as important parts of their presentations. Some teachers tended to moderate the turn-taking, calling on one student at a time and discouraging multiple, spontaneous input; their commentary included much explicit information and was fairly redundant at several levels.

The teachers who tended toward the faster pace also tended to rely on multitasking and multiple channels of simultaneous input. For example, they might talk while writing on the board, read out answers while students simultaneously correct papers and take notes, and demonstrate an example while talking about it.

The teachers who tended to maintain a more deliberate pace with explicit references and redundancy also tended toward a more naturally sequential approach to content presentation. They would first explain something, then show it, then leave time for the students to take notes.

Given the previous discussion of the lag time imposed on all interpreted educations, the teacher who teaches at a slower pace, who includes pauses for processing, and who allows silence while students think are the teachers whose classrooms and teaching are more interpretable. Likewise, given the problematic nature of turn-taking for interpreting and deaf students, the teacher who regulates turn-taking carefully and consistently—so only one person speaks at a time and only after being recognized by the teacher—will be much more interpretable than the teacher who encourages overlapping and spontaneous questions, chorale responses, and quick interactions.

Finally, some teachers tended to be more visual than others. Some, when relying on other visual input, used only basic text—papers, written information on the board, books. Others included a wide range of visual input; in addition to written English, they also showed models, drew pictures, used colors for classifying, and gestured. This research has looked at effects of classroom environment and teaching style to analyze the ramifications of interpreting the education being provided in that classroom. Both visual and linguistic accessibility have been discussed, and the teachers own style of presentation has been discussed in relation to these factors.

Classroom activities may be visually inaccessible (e.g., requiring eyes in two places at once); these activities may be alleviated by the teacher’s style. The teacher who allows silence and processing time for all students may be more able to adapt the classroom for interpretation than one who prefers a fast-paced, rapid-fire interaction. The teacher who allows all students time to look at visual input, including the text, the homework, and the notes, without talking is already making the simultaneous activity more sequential. The teacher who says a word, then writes it on the board, then spells it for students is already adding redundancy and sequentiality that is missing in a classroom where a teacher talks and writes while expecting students simultaneously to copy into their notes. Teachers who include strategies for students to first learn a word, then see it in written English form are already including some access to the bilingual and bimodal needs of deaf students. Classrooms that have the least number of visually problematic issues—classrooms in which teachers provide additional time and redundancy of the information they are offering—provide the best opportunity for an interpreted education.

Almost anyone can perform an analysis of the visual accessibility in a classroom. Likewise, anyone who can observe the redundancies of a teaching style can assess a classroom for that feature. Analyzing the linguistic issues, however, requires someone with an understanding of bilingual or bimodal language acquisition. An interpreter is one person who can do this analysis. Even more effective is the educator who is deaf; this person is knowledgeable about teaching, has experienced bilingual and bimodal language learning, and has experienced the challenges of accessing education through interpreting. A deaf person is able to point out issues that are important to consider and is usually more adept at suggesting possible modifications based on personal experience of visual educations. For example, an interpreter may suggest adding a note-taker to alleviate the need for a deaf student to look at the interpretation and simultaneously take notes. A deaf person will be quick to point out that note-taking is a learning process that is helpful and that taking it away from a deaf student denies him or her access to that aspect of education. Likewise, a deaf professional will be able to suggest placements of interpreters based on what works visually rather than on what works for the teacher or the interpreter.

NOTES

1. Although video is essential for initial research, it is possible to conduct classroom assessment using the categories identified through the research without recording. A skilled observer can collect sufficient information about the suitability of a classroom for an interpreted education without use of recording equipment other than paper and pencil.

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APPENDIX A