4 Cross-Cultural Communication

Selected Topics in Intercultural Communication

By Anna Mindess

Collectivism and Individualism

Imagine the following scene: A group of white-coated psychiatrists in the country of Individuania circle around a seated, dazed patient. They are shaking their heads sadly and mumbling their observations to one another, “Patient passively submits to everyone else’s wishes.” “He stubbornly refuses to make known his preferences, desires, or opinions and acts as though he has no right to his own feelings.” “Patient will only refer to the views of his family-obviously has not differentiated himself from the biological breeding unit.” “A very serious case. We must keep him for further observation and recommend therapy in order to activate his underdeveloped sense of autonomy.”

Now picture a group of psychiatrists in the country of Collectivestan. They are murmuring about their puzzled patient: “This woman is adamant and vociferous in her demands about her needs.” “She refuses to recognize her obligations to her family or to any other group.” “She dares to question our authority and refuses to accept our consensus.” “Quite a serious case. She poses a threat to society and must remain in this protected environment.” Although these scenarios are exaggerated, they serve to illustrate the fact that what is considered normal and desirable behaviour in one culture can be deemed maladaptive, or even indicative of mental illness, in a different culture. They more specifically indicate that the differences between collectivist cultures and individualist cultures encompass such issues as identity, loyalty, obligation, and independence.

More than 70 percent of world cultures can be labeled collectivist, or group oriented. They include much of Africa, Asia, and Latin America. In all such cultures, members of a group (family, work group, tribe, caste, or even the entire country) help each other to survive. Individuals subordinate their personal goals to the goals of the group. American Deaf culture clearly qualifies as a collectivist culture with its emphasis on pooling resources, the duty to share information, the boundary between insiders and outsiders, and loyalty to and strong identification with the group.

The Deaf Community … is a central part of life in a way that a neighbourhood, township, or professional group is not for mainstream Americans … Deaf adults … feel a strong connection and obligation to the Deaf Community … and allocate more time and energy to it [than mainstream Americans do to theirs]. (Smith 1996, 88)

In collectivist cultures, rules for group membership are rigid, and one must essentially he horn into and grow up within that culture to qualify as a member. For example, even if foreigners can speak perfect Japanese, it is said that they will never be able to think like the Japanese. The same feeling is found in Deaf culture.

Deaf people seem to agree that a hearing person can never fully acquire that identity and become a full-fledged member of the deaf community. Even with deaf parents and a native command of ASL, the hearing person will have missed the experience of growing up deaf, including attending a deaf school, and is likely to have divided allegiances. (Lane 1992, 1 7)

Insider/ outsider distinctions are crucial to determining behaviour in collectivist cultures. The lines that are drawn around the center of the group show who is an insider. In some cases outsiders are not trusted; in others, they just don’t qualify for membership because a certain attribute sets them apart A hearing child growing up in a Deaf family, for example, may he fluent in ASL and the ways of Deaf culture, have many friends and relatives who are Deaf, and feel included in many Deaf activities. If he tries our for the local deafboys’ baseball team, however, he will he turned down.

Because identification with the group is of paramount importance, the Worst punishment that can he meted out is ostracism from the group. An example is the story of a Zia, an Indian painter who in the 1920s

was accused by his tribe of providing drawings of the sacred sun symbol of his Puebloan people to officials of the State of New Mexico, who subsequently adapted it as their … logo. [His] behaviour was considered so outrageously individualistic … that he was cast out by his people … and he never again won reacceptance by his tribe … His fundamental “crime” was that he acted out of personal conviction. (Highwater, 19 5)

In collectivist cultures, people identify with few groups, but those attachments become a highly defining feature of their identity and are long-term, if not permanent. One’s status in such societies depends on one’s connection to others through family, birthplace, friends, and the individuals and groups one associates with. In China, for example, the concept of self includes one’s family. Therefore, anything that happens to the family or to anyone within it happens to every member of the family. Collectivists place a high value on group harmony and face-saving, so cooperation is encouraged and confrontation avoided. In Japan, a primary goal is to understand and share the attitudes of others.

Another illustration of collectivism is the preference of members of such a culture to engage in many activities together, rather than to go off alone. The Israeli custom of all the workers at a job site taking their coffee break at the same time can be viewed by Americans as an inefficient waste of time. However, as an Israeli secretary explained to an impatient American, in this situation efficiency is not the priority. “They’d never agree to go on their break in shifts. What’s the point of having a break if you can’t sit around and talk to friends?” (Shahar and Kurz 1995, 102). As collectivists, Deaf people feel strong ties to the Deaf community. “Most … work at regular non-Deaf jobs, but spend virtually all their social time with Deaf friends and at community events” (Smith 1996, 88).

In individualist cultures, such as the United States, Australia, and most of northwest Europe, the basic unit of survival is the individual. One is repeatedly encouraged to be independent, self-reliant, and always ready to take responsibility for one’s own actions. Heavy emphasis is placed on personal choices and creativity. Group membership is flexible, and one can be a member of many groups simultaneously. Identification with these groups is relatively weak, however, and no one group completely defines its members’ identities. Here in the United States, for example, one may be a part of a book club, a church choir, and a hiking club, but any of these may easily change if one’s interests change or one moves to a different city. We engage in a continual process of joining and leaving a series of groups, and we identify with a group not because we must, but because of the (temporary) benefits it offers.

We are mistrustful of becoming too strongly attached to any one group, seeing this as surrendering our personal identity. Many Americans’ lives appear to be a quest to find their personal identity. This often includes a purposeful breaking away from their family and birthplace. Sayings such as “Look out for #1” or “God helps those who help themselves” underscore the autonomous nature of individualist societies. Status in cultures like ours depends largely on personal achievement.

An interesting way to capture the essence of cultural values is to look at proverbs and aphorisms. Compare the American saying “The squeaky wheel gets the grease” with a Japanese proverb that translates as “The nail that sticks out gets hammered down.” In the Japanese proverb, being noticed as separate from the group is dangerous, whether one is singled out for positive or negative reasons. In contrast, American culture admires and rewards those who dare to call attention to themselves.

A Deaf “hero,” as seen in folktales and stories, is admired because he or she helped other Deaf people. In Deaf culture, the most respected leaders are “felt to be responsible for other Deaf people, in a personal way. They must not only work for the betterment of the community but are expected to be open to all its members, giving them time, attention and help” (Smith 1996, 30-31 ). Success in Deaf culture is applauded with the proviso that one must not distance oneself from the Deaf community.

Marlee Matlin, the actor awarded an Oscar for her role in Children of a Lesser God, took advantage of her ascribed deafness to get the role but later, when she accepted the Oscar, rejected the primary marker of a Deaf identity, ASL/Sign, by speaking with her voice … thus, intentionally or not, shaming and alienating the Deaf Community. Some Deaf people began using a name for her indicating her outsider status. She has subsequently chosen to adopt a more Deaf stance in public. (29)

Loyalty to the group is an important characteristic of collectivism. One does not behave in a way. that would bring disgrace to the family. Nor does one betray or embarrass other members of the group. “Deaf leaders rarely confront others directly in public. If they are friends or care about the person, they do so in private” (94-95).

In collectivist cultures ( and minority groups) one is expected to devote time and energy to promoting the welfare of the group.

The ideal Deaf person contributes to and supports the community; they hold parties or sponsor events to bring people together, to entertain, enlighten and to create solidarity-spending much time socializing. They put the welfare of the community higher than their own immediate needs. (107)

Decision Making

Many cultural behaviours can be linked to and explained by the collectivist/individualist divide, for example, decision making. In individualist cultures, each person in a group is supposed to have a separate and equal voice and is supposed to make up his or her own mind independently ‘when decisions are to be made. In collectivist cultures like Japan, on the other hand, the group often caucuses or negotiates before a formal vote is taken and agrees by consensus upon a course of action that is in the best interest of the group as a whole. Then a united front is presented at the formal meeting. At a meeting of an organization with both Deaf and hearing members, the Deaf members may tend to caucus to decide together what position is best for the Deaf community at large and then vote as a bloc. Hearing members of this group, if not aware of the cultural dynamics, may judge such behaviour as weak-minded or collusive.

Reciprocity

Reciprocity, or giving to and taking from the collective pool of skills in the group, can be a feature of collectivist cultures as well. In comparison, members of individualist cultures do not like to feel obligated beyond the present moment and operate more on a quid pro quo basis. Therefore, if a member of a collectivist culture needs help to repair a car, move to a new apartment, or paint a house, he or she has a network of friends and relatives upon whom to rely, while one from an individualist culture might have to hire a stranger. In Deaf culture, there is an unspoken system of reciprocity, which we will examine in depth in chapter 5. Even though no one keeps a tally of what each person gives or takes from the collective pool, the members of the community censure those who fail to do their share in assisting others.

Names as a Reflection of Group-Oriented Culture

In “Cross-Cultural Training across the Individualism-Collectivism Divide,” authors Harry C. Triandis, Richard Brislin, and C. Harry Hui (1988) make an interesting point about names and how they illustrate cultural values: “In Individualistic cultures we put the person’s [given] name first ( e.g., Harry Triandis); in many collectivist cultures the family name comes first ( e.g., Hui Chi-chiu).” In Deaf culture, too, names, or more specifically name signs, are subject to the preeminence of the group. Name signs, which will be described in depth in chapter 5, are used mostly to refer to a person when he or she is not present and thus belong more to the group than to the person being referred to. Although Deaf people cherish their own name· signs, it is the group’s prerogative to change a person’s name sign. This is not done lightly but happens most often when a name sign is physically uncomfortable to make or duplicates another person’s existing sign and is therefore confusing to the group (Mindess 1990; Supalla 1992).

Crossing the Individualist / Collectivist Divide

Though Triandis, Brislin, and Hui make no mention of Deaf culture and may not have even been aware of its existence, their points are quite valid across the hearing-Deaf divide. For example, collectivists who interact with individualists are cautioned that the written word carries great importance in individualist cultures. They are also warned that individualists take pride in their own accomplishments and expect to be complimented on them, while placing less importance on activities that occur within the group.

For Deaf people, who spend a great deal of their lives coping with the hearing world, the above advice could alert them, say, to be sure they understand the small print before affixing their signatures to a contract. It might also explain why some sign language interpreters end an interpreting assignment by asking the Deaf consumer, “Was that okay?” What the interpreter may be looking for is validation of his or her work in the form of a compliment. The Deaf person may be puzzled at this request and matter- of-factly state, “If there was anything wrong, I would have told you.”

From the opposite vantage point, individualists are told what to expect when they deal with collectivists, who are deeply involved with the events in their group. Collectivists have social duties and obligations that carry great weight in their lives. Individualists are admonished, therefore, to be patient, spend a lot of time chatting, develop long-term relationships, and be willing to answer personal questions. Things change as individualists move from outsider to insider status within the collectivist culture, they are then expected to sacrifice for and contribute to the group. Those individualists who develop even closer ties by marrying someone from a collective culture are put on notice that they may become “annoyed with the time, energy, and resources which the collectivist puts into the extended ingroup” (Triandis, Brislin, and Hui 285). These pieces of advice seem especially appropriate for sign language interpreters who, although they are hearing, occupy a special place in the Deaf community. Those interpreters who are not from Deaf families learned ASL and Deaf culture from associating with Deaf people and now earn their living from their signing skills. Although it seems natural to interpreters to compartmentalize their work life and social life, in collective Deaf culture these things are not so easily separable.

To return to our opening example of the misunderstood visitors to the countries of individuania and Collectivestan, unfamiliarity with the opposing worldviews inherent in individualist and collectivist cultures may not, of course, result in a stay at a psychiatric hospital. It is entirely possible, however, that a student adviser at an American college may see Asian students, who refuse to state personal preferences for a major but are resigned to following their parents’ wishes, as passive to the point of being clinically depressed. In the same way, collectivist members of the Deaf community may label an interpreter with a “9 to 5 attitude,” who makes money from the community but gives nothing back, as terminally self-centered.

High  Context and Low Context

Suppose you are sitting in a busy cafe, sipping coffee and chatting with a friend. All around you are others doing the same. Because you are a curious person, you happen to overhear bits of other conversations. (All right, admit it-you love to eavesdrop!) On your right are two women planning a trip to Europe. On your left, a man is complaining about a coworker.

Then your friend notices a Deaf couple who are chatting too, but of course in sign language. Your friend says, “Hey, you know sign language; what are they saying?” So you look and look but you can’t figure out exactly what they are talking about. Something about a party. Was it in the past or in the future? It’s hard to tell. And to whom are they referring? Men? Women? Something is missing here. “So,” pesters your friend, “what are they saying?” You mumble a vague reply and change the subject. Had you been familiar with the difference between high-context and low-context cultures, you might have been able to explain to your friend the ineffectiveness of your eavesdropping.

The terms high context and low context were coined by Edward T. Hall in his groundbreaking book, Beyond Culture(l 976), and summarized concisely some years later in Understanding Cultural  Differences coauthored with Mildred Reed Hall (1990). These terms deal with the question of how much information must be made explicit in a given culture compared with how much is already understood implicitly because of shared experience. It helps to keep in mind that a high-context culture base a high dependence on context; in other words, if you do not share the same cultural experience as everyone else, you might not understand what is going on in any given conversation. Low-context cultures have a low dependence on context, so it is not assumed that you have much shared background and experience; therefore, things will be explained more. Think of the difference between the economical conversational style of twins who have grown up together compared with the amount of explanation, clarification, and reiteration needed by opposing lawyers presenting their case in court. Hall says that “The level of context determines everything about the nature of the communication and is the foundation on which all subsequent behaviour rests … ” (Hall 1976, 92). He also observes, “A high-context (HC) communication or message is one in which most of the information is either in the physical context or internalized in the person, while very little is in the coded, explicit, transmitted part of the message” (91 ). “In high-context cultures,” Hall says elsewhere, “interpersonal contact takes precedence over everything else … information flows freely” (Hall and Hall 1989, 23). Conversely, people in low-context cultures ” … compartmentalize their personal relationships, their work, and many aspects of day-to-day life” (7). When they communicate, “most of the information must be in the transmitted message in order to make up for what is missing in the context” (Hall 1976, 101).

Clearly, American Deaf culture would be placed on the high-context end of the continuum, while mainstream American culture would be found on the low-context side. As the student workbook for the acclaimed ASL course, Signing Naturally, explains, “Among Deaf people there is a great deal of shared knowledge, common experiences, goals and beliefs, common friends and acquaintances, a common way of talking; that is, their lives share a common context” (Smith, Lentz, and Mikos 1988, 79). We can also appreciate the characteristic way Deaf discourse describes certain events in great detail with another observation from Hall:

In general, HC communication, in contrast to LC, is economical, fast, efficient, and satisfying; however, time must be devoted to programming. If this programming does not take place, the communications is incomplete . (Hall 1976, 101)

If we return to our eavesdropping example ( and put aside the commonality that both cultures consider such behaviour rude), we can see how the basic difference between high and low context affects our perceptions on various levels. On the grammatical level, English fits the mold of a low context language by its redundancy in comparison with high-context ASL. Every verb in an English sentence shows its tense, while, in ASL, tense may be set at the beginning of an utterance and then carried implicitly until a change of tense is noted. English repeats the same subject throughout the conversation by using proper names or gender-specific pronouns, while in ASL there are several possibilities such as mentioning the subject at the beginning of a conversation and then carrying it along implicitly until it is changed, incorporating it into directional verbs, or representing it by name signs or gender-neutral pronouns. What this means is that if you miss the beginning of an ASL conversation, you may be lost as to which person is being talked about and in what tense. In English conversations, on the other hand, even if you miss the beginning, there will be repeated clues along the way to help you fill in the blanks.

Equally, if not more, important is the cultural level of context. Hearing Americans, in general, come from a diverse set of backgrounds, including differences in socioeconomic class, education, and religion. Although Deaf Americans may be born into families of equal diversity, their ensuing experiences of growing up deaf in a hearing world, attending the same types of schools, and being part of the same community result in a shared context that fosters mutual understanding.

Introductions

Let’s see how this contrast between hearing and Deaf Americans is played out in personal introductions. Hall says that in introductions a high-context culture focuses on questions regarding social background and group membership, while a low-context culture seeks out data that emphasize personal background. This is borne out in Deaf and hearing introductions. When two Deaf people meet, they ask each other what schools they attended, to whom they are related, and which friends they have in common in order to place each other in a known social context. In contrast, hearing Americans ask each other what they do for a living, where they live, what hobbies they enjoy, and so on to get an idea of their personal identity.

Sharing Information

Another variant between high- and low-context cultures is how information is managed in a society and how it is shared: which topics are discussed, with whom, and in what situations. In a low-context culture, information is shared with only a few people; it is compartmentalized and its flow is restricted. In a high-context culture, on the other hand, information flows rapidly and is freely shared. This could be likened to the flow of water in a series of canals compared with a free-flowing system of rivers and tributaries. An excellent example can be found in Stephanie Hall’s article, “Train Gone Sorry” (1989), about communication etiquette at a Deaf club. She explains that

hearing people often comment that Deaf people do not keep secrets among themselves-although they may keep their secrets from hearing people! Yet it should no_t be surprising that among people or whom all information is precious, even sacred, secrecy is considered antisocial. Sharing information is an affirmation of the unity of the Deaf community. Deaf people in turn often think a hearing person’s attitude toward privacy [is] infuriating and perplexing. (S. Hall 1989, 99)

Context in the Legal Arena

One final example of differences in levels of context can be found in the legal arena. This aspect of American culture is even farther out on the low-context end of the continuum. Edward T. Hall (1976) describes the American legal system as so decontexted that ” … it is extraordinarily difficult to guarantee that the proceedings can be linked to real life” (106). The inadmissibility of hearsay, personal opinion, and background information as well as the heavy usage of yes-no questions ” … reveal the U.S. courts as the epitome of low-context systems” (107). In comparison, Hall describes the French courts, which are higher context and which” … allow great leeway in the testimony admitted as evidence. The court wants to find out as much as possible about the circumstances behind the surface acts … Everything is heard-facts, hearsay, gossip” (108).

Hall goes on to say that low-context legal systems view the participants as adversaries, while high-context cultures such as Japan put “the accused, the court, the public, and those who are the injured parties on the same side, where, ideally, they can work together to settle things” ( 111 ). Another example of this high-context justice system is found in American Indian “sentencing circles,” which are community-based tribunals that are composed of tribal leaders, the victim, the defendant, friends, and families; at times a judge presides and there are lawyers present. After a long process-sometimes several days-of discussion and consensus building, participants arrive at a sentence (Turner 1996).

It would be quite interesting if the Deaf community had a formal system of justice to compare with those described above. In its absence, it would seem that the closest parallel would probably be to look at an exclusively Deaf organization like the Deaf club still found in a few cities and see how those who break the rules are handled. In a classic example, a treasurer (such as the one depicted in the Deaf play Tales from a Clubroom by Bernard Bragg and Eugene Bergman [1981]) who absconds with the treasury may be punished by temporary ostracism from the group. This practice fits the collectivist principle of ostracism as punishment. After a suitable period of time has passed, the ex-treasurer can then be allowed back into the club and may even hold another position of responsibility (but not the post of treasurer).

We Are Not Imprisoned in a Low Context World

Although American culture is by and large low context, we all have many moments of high-context communication with those people we know well: spouse, mate, partner, family, closest friends. In these relationships we share a great deal of information about each other, memories of past experiences, details of our daily routines, and common jargon. We do not need to spell everything out. Sometimes one word or a quick “How’d it go?” will suffice when both of you know that what you are referring to is the first day of a new job, an afternoon at the zoo with six kids, or a long-dreaded root canal.

Conversely, we all have experienced the frustration of being the only one who does not understand what is going on in a high-context situation. A good example is interpreting at a staff meeting of a business corporation, especially if it is your first time there. All of the staff members present, including the Deaf workers, share a common vocabulary of acronyms, jargon, and technical terms they don’t bother to explain to you because they forget that the interpreter is not privy to this specific terminology. If it happens to be a computer-oriented workplace, you may wonder if there is any English being spoken at all.

Now that we know we have the ability to function in either a high- or low-context mode, despite our cultural tendencies, we can be more sensitive in matching our behaviour to the situation at hand, whether that be eavesdropping in a cafe, sharing news with a Deaf friend, or interpreting in the courtroom.

Time Orientation

Imagine that you are a businessperson and have just gotten off a plane after flying halfway around the world. You find yourself suffering from jet lag in a new country. You walk out into blinding morning sunlight, while every cell in your body begs you to find a nice dark bedroom and succumb to slumber. Instead, you stumble bleary-eyed into a busy bakery, hoping some sweet pastry can convince your brain it is really morning. You search for a semblance of a line or a comforting red metal box that dispenses numbers. How will you know when it is your turn? The counter person seems to be helping several people at once. But as you stare at the confusion of milling bodies, you finally notice that somehow everyone eventually gets served.

Glancing at your watch, you realize you must hurry to your important business meeting so as to arrive on time and not insult your host. Weary yet proud, you arrive on the stroke of the hour but are dismayed to find that nothing is setup and no one else has arrived. After what seems like an eternity, the meeting is finally convened. Trying to hide your irritation, you use up your last ounce of energy to focus on the agenda at hand-making plans for future business endeavours. Then, the last straw: all the other participants in the meeting insist on talking only about the past accomplishments of their company. Your eyes glaze over and you wonder, “What is wrong with these people?”

Time, clearly, organizes our lives in many ways, and we can view these from a cultural perspective. We can look, for example, at the pace of a culture. If it has a comparatively slow pace, people will walk, talk, and eat slowly, unhurriedly relishing the moment. If, on the other hand, it is a fast-paced culture, its members will move and converse more quickly and may be spotted scarfing down their food, to their digestive detriment. This distinction is not only applicable to other countries, but may be observed in different regions of our own ( e.g., New York City and Atlanta). Another way to compare time orientation is to study a culture’s degree of precision. Does the 2:03 train always arrive at 2:03? In Switzerland it does. When the plumber in Mexico says he will come to fix your drip “mañana,” does that mean he will assuredly be at your house tomorrow? Probably not.

What Is Late?

Attitudes about time include the definition of what is considered “late,” which also varies from culture to culture. One could characterize the stages of reaction to being late as follows:

• Stage 1: I am only a tiny bit late. No one will even notice, so I don’t have to comment on it.
• Stage 2: I am a little late so I will mumble a vague apology and let it drop, as it probably bothered no one.
• Stage 3: I am definitely late. I hope no one has been too inconvenienced. I will make a clear apology and explain the reasons for my tardiness.
• Possible Stage 4: This is awful! I am terribly late. I am sure everyone is angry with me. How can I ever make it up to them? I will put myself at their mercy and beg their forgiveness.

In the United States we are at stage 1 from 0 to about 5 minutes, stage 2 from 5 to 10 minutes, and stage 3 from 10 to 15 minutes. After 15 minutes, there is an optional switch to stage 4 depending on the circumstances. In Germany, stage 1 is shorter, perhaps only until 2 minutes after the appointed time. Then all the stages get moved up accordingly. In Latin America and Arab countries, however, stage 1 may last as long as 20 minutes and stage 2 may last 45 minutes. Obviously, this is fertile ground for intercultural conflict.

Americans seem to be particularly obsessed with time, viewing it as a commodity. We see it as something precious that we can save, waste, buy, spend, find, lose, make, pass, take, spare, run out of, and kill. Not every culture shares this perspective.

Deaf and Hearing Differences Related to Time

Many subcultures in the United States refer to their own variant of the accepted time system half-jokingly as Black People’s Time or Jewish Standard Time, and so on. But they are only half-joking, because there really are differences in behaviour and attitude toward time in different cultures. This category would include DST, or Deaf Standard Time, as well. Perhaps all of these “standard time” references are only glorified excuses for being late. Or, to their credit, some subcultures may recognize that in their group punctuality is not always next to godliness.

Besides arriving at events late, another element of Deaf time is staying late at gatherings such as parties. In Deaf-only parties, this behaviour goes unremarked upon because it is expected. In a mixed party of Deaf and hearing, people often joke that the party really gets started after all the hearing people go home ( early). If there is an event at a public location such as a theater, it often happens that the Deaf people in attendance must be shooed out at closing time, and they sometimes continue the conversation on the front steps outside the theater. At a restaurant, a group of Deaf patrons may be deep in conversation as the restaurant staff stacks the chairs upside down on the tables and turns off the lights. If Deaf people are involved in a discussion, cutting it off arbitrarily because the clock says it’s getting late is almost unheard of. These moments of face-to-face communication with fellow Deaf people are so precious that “there is minimal value placed on being ‘on time’ to the next appointment, getting home to sleep, or even finishing the immediate business at hand” (Smith 1996, 190).

Although DST is often used as the reason that meetings start late, there are some instances where punctuality and even showing up early are common in order to get a good seat. This is linked to the importance of sight lines and having a good view of the signing. It may apply, therefore, to signed or interpreted plays or lectures.

There is also a cultural difference in timing between Deaf culture and hearing culture with regard to greetings and leave-taking. Hearing Americans practice a greeting ritual that precedes our getting to the point: “Hi.” “Hello.” “How are you?” ”Fine thanks, and you?” ”Not too bad.” And then on to the matter at hand. Hearing leave-taking is more abrupt: “Great party. Bye.” Deaf culture reverses the pacing of these two interactions. After the hello, they get right to the point without the warm-up and save the long ritual for leave-taking. At a party or other large event, hugs, good-byes, agreeing when to meet again, more hugs, a last bit of news, and so forth can easily continue for half an hour.

Polychronic versus Monochronic

Polychronic and Monochronic are terms coined by Edward T. Hall to describe another distinction regarding time. In monochronic cultures like the United States, Germany, Switzerland, and countries in Scandinavia, time is segmented linearly, and people tend to focus on one thing or person at a time ( witness our ever-present date books or calendars neatly divided into hourly or smaller units that we often assign one by one until our days are fully booked.) By scheduling our time so rigidly, we compartmentalize our life, trying to make it manageable by concentrating on only one thing at a time. This process has the side effect of reducing context as we separate business from pleasure, family from friends, exercise from daily chores, and so on. So deeply ingrained is our system of dealing with time · that we forget it is not universal. It seems the only logical way to organize our lives in order to make sure that time is not lost or wasted.

In polychronic cultures, such as those of Latin American countries and France, people and relationships take precedence over agendas and schedules. People may carry on several ·conversations at the same time. This means that if an American is meeting with a businessperson in a polychronic culture, he or she will probably become upset when the business counterpart’s brother “intrudes,” the phone rings, the secretary comes in with another matter, and the businessperson deals with all of these occurrences simultaneously. The American literally wants one-on-one attention and feels discounted, or even insulted, if he or she doesn’t get it.

This difference is also apparent in business meetings, where the monochronic members want to follow the agenda strictly as it was planned. The polychronic members may feel that doing so is too rigid and leaves no room for personal interactions, which are really more important than agendas anyway. In the Deaf community, “Groups move toward goals rather than complete checklists and move on. The process, the mutual feeling and perception of progress is more important than the completion of specific tasks or outward signs of ‘progress”‘ (Smith 1996, 192). As Hall states in The Dance of Life, “Polychronic people are so deeply immersed in each other’s business that they feel a compulsion to keep in touch. Any stray scrap of a story is gathered in and stored away. Their involvement in people is the very core of their existence” (1983, 50). For Deaf people who depend upon communication with each other for so much of their information about the world, the polychronic description also seems to fit. Being involved in others’ lives takes time–time to share the news and time to listen. When interpreters do not include this “human time” to chat after the work part of the assignment is over, they may be characterized as rude hearing people who continually glance at their watches and then rush off without even a good-bye.

Because we cannot always predict exactly how long things will take, our monochronic time system has some unforeseen consequences. Time runs out before things are finished; money runs out before a research project is completed; the allotted appointment time runs out before we finish describing our complaints to the doctor. For freelance sign language interpreters, this is a particularly relevant dilemma. In order to make a living, we must often schedule several appointments back-to-back and so are constantly trying to predict the impossible: how long a “routine checkup” or a deposition will last. Even when we are not responsible for the erroneous prognostication, we are stuck in the middle. Our excuse as we run out the door, “They told me this would only last till three and I have another assignment at four,” does not assuage the Deaf client who is in the middle of an important meeting or a tooth extraction.

Past versus Future Orientation

Yet another way to compare time among cultures is through the continuum of past, present, and future orientation. Past-oriented cultures such as those of lran, India, and most nations of Asia are connected to their history, respect their ancestors, keep traditions, and look back with reverence on a “golden age.” Future-oriented cultures, of which the United States is a good example, are more focused on change and progress. According to Edward C. Stewart and Milton J. Bennett in American Cultural Patterns ( 1991 ), people with a past or present orientation may assume a fatalistic outlook toward the future and be upset by aggressive attempts to structure the unknowable.

In some ways American Deaf culture can be considered a past-oriented culture. It treasures its sign language and cherishes those Deaf pioneers who fought for basic rights for their fellow Deaf citizens. One of the most significant of these is the right to a good education for all Deaf children, In this context, one could say that Deaf culture looks back on a “golden age” in the nineteenth century when more than twenty state schools for the Deaf were founded by Deaf people, Nine of the schools had Deaf principals or superintendents, and sign language was the language of instruction in all of these schools. There were also many more Deaf teachers during this “golden age” than there are today, At its height in 1858, 40 percent of the teachers at the state schools for the deaf were Deaf themselves, compared to only 14 percent in 1981 and 22 percent today (Gannon 1981; Simms, Rusher, Andrews, and Coryell, 2008), (This dramatic drop can be traced to the infamous Congress of Milan,  when oralism became the official policy in both European and American deaf school. One result was the firing of Deaf teachers [Lane 1984].)

Unfortunately, many Deaf people are not taught about their heritage in school.

While community memory is long, Deaf people’s awareness of their history [ and] their heritage is vincible and often fragmented, Its continuity depends on community and the memory of elders, Yet while many details have been lost the sense remains. Deaf history exists not in books, but in stories, in events at the residential schools. (Smith 1996, 194).

An interesting anecdote that points up the past orientation of Deaf culture is the following story, which was told to me by a well-respected leader in the Deaf community. A meeting was held at a Deaf-run service agency that had applied for and received a large grant of money from the state., Various leaders in the Deaf community were invited by the head of this agency to contribute ideas for the five-year plan, which was required by the grant, While the focus of the meeting was planning for the future, the ideas from the Deaf community members seemed to relate to the past-things that they didn’t want to repeat or projects in the past that proved successful.

Of course the Deaf community wants change and progress in the areas of equal rights and improved communication and technological access for its members, but that is change in the context of the majority hearing culture, Within the Deaf culture, traditions are cherished. This includes traditional forms of folklore such as jokes and storytelling as well as the Traditional Name Sign System.

Hearing Americans, by and large, are future oriented.We believe we can always improve on the present through action and hard work. Any attempt of futurists to try to effect changes on a past-oriented culture, however, will be met with puzzled dismay if not angry resistance. This is why American Deaf culture does not look kindly on attempts by outsiders to invent new ASL signs, new traditions, or new name signs.

An interesting internal struggle with change has been evident in the recent shift in signs for countries. Many signs in ASL have iconic roots. It is no surprise, therefore, that the traditional signs for certain countries referred to perceived physical features of their citizens ( e.g. Japan and China were made with twisting movements at the eye). In about the last twenty years, however, parallel to the American mainstream movement of showing respect to diverse cultures by using “politically correct” terms, Deaf people from different countries have chosen to demonstrate mutual respect by adopting the sign used in the country itself For example, the traditional ASL sign for Sweden was made with an initialized “S” at the forehead, but now many people have adopted the Swedish sign for Sweden made on the back of the hand. Nevertheless, there are competing feelings that pull in two directions. Although it is more polite to refer to Japan with the Japanese sign for Japan, where the two hands outline the shape of the country, many older Deaf people resist changing traditional signs and continue to make the old sign for Japan at the eye.

The Perennial Now

To further enlarge our perspective on time, we find it interesting to note that not all cultures perceive of time as a line leading from the past through the present toward the future. Time is experienced in yet another way by many native peoples. Australian aborigines, for example, divide time into two types: the ordinary time of daily life and the sacred state of “dream-time,” which includes “not only the events of our sleeping state, but also those things we anticipate, envision, imagine, intuit and conceive” (Highwater, 89). Things are not always divided neatly into the realm of the objective, defined by sequences of cause and effect, and the realm of subjective feelings about those facts. It is the interweaving of these two seeming opposites that determines reality to many native peoples. The focus is more on eternal recurring cycles than on a linear time that moves ever
forward in predictable progression (90-91 ).

In fact, the Hopi language, studied in depth by Benjamin Whorf, seems to contain no words or grammatical constructions that refer to what we think of as “time,” including no references to the past, present, or future. To our Western minds, used to seeing time as a concrete commodity that is measured by clocks and calendars, this way of relating to the world seems completely alien if not mystical-something out of this world.

Reasoning and Rhetoric

Suppose you read in the newspaper that there is to be a lecture on the question, “Can Chocolate Really Increase Your Intelligence?” Sounds interesting, so you decide to attend. Driving over to the lecture hall, you might anticipate the shape the lecture could take: after a short introduction to the topics of chocolate and intelligence, the speaker, you might expect, will quote studies, cite statistics, and refer to expert opinion. The discussion will most likely include charts, graphs, and scientific terminology. The speaker, you imagine, will probably conclude with a summation of her points in a logical sequence to convince you of the validity of her position.

What if, to your surprise, instead of beginning with general comments, the speaker starts by describing the history of chocolate since the Renaissance and the many ways intelligence has been viewed throughout the ages. You might squirm a little in your seat and try to suppress a yawn. What if the speaker then tells detailed personal stories about people she knows who have eaten a lot of chocolate and become a lot brighter? You might feel confused or doubtful and wonder, “Where’s your proof?” And what if, rather than a cool objective discussion of test scores and chemical analyses, the speaker recites poetic analogies in a loud voice, gesturing broadly? What if she repeats herself in an exaggerated fashion and appears quite emotional? You would probably judge her immature. When, instead of facts and evidence, she quotes the ancient writings of the holy prophets and talks of fate, you might get up, disgusted, and leave, wondering how in the world this speaker thought she could convince anyone of anything. If we are determined, we can manage to achieve some objective insight into the way our culture handles group membership, information sharing, and time, but the topic we are now considering is much harder to.see with a dispassionate eye. It covers the way we think, how we organize our thoughts, what we trust as evidence, and how we try to persuade others. An enlightening discussion of this topic can be found in the chapter “Thinking about Thinking” in John C. Condon and Yousef’s An Introduction to Intercultural Communication.

These authors characterize cultural rhetoric as “acquired habits, widely shared by speakers within a particular society, influencing both the speaker and his own cultural audience and extremely difficult o translates satisfactorily to another society. .. without some loss or awkwardness”( emphasis added) (235-36). Clearly, for interpreters working between any two languages, one of the major challenges will not only be to find equivalent words, phrases, and idioms, but also to present them in a familiar structure and in a convincing manner.

Organizing Information

Of course, each language has its little quirks in the way it organizes information.Condon and Yousef cite as an example the numerous ways American English uses patterns of threes to describe things, as in the following phrases: “tall, dark, and handsome,” “wine, women, and song,” “hook, line,and sinker.” We break things down. into a beginning, middle, and end, and we award three basic college degrees. Many children’s stories follow this pattern as well: “Three Blind Mice,” “The Three Little Pigs,” “Three Billy Goats Gruff.” We tell people, “If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again” and “Third time’s a charm,” and many of our jokes end with the punch line, “And then the third guy says … ” and so on. Since reality doesn’t really come in threes, it is possible that as Condon and Yousef suggest,” … our culturally influenced rhetorical forms themselves help shape our worldview, our thoughts, and our actions” (233).

We can see this in ourselves: in writing a sentence we come up with two adjectives and then feel compelled to find a third one to make it feel right. Another aspect of cultural rhetoric is the way we organize and present our thoughts. It includes “where to begin, where to stop, how to move from point to point, how many and which points to stress … ” (240). Hearing American children learn in elementary school a basic form of organization: topic sentence, three clarifying examples, and conclusion, and they are instructed to line up their points in a logical progression. Our style of communicating, however, is not by any means universal. German communicative style, for instance, differs from American style in several important ways. As described by Hall and Hall, Americans prefer a “headline style”-short and to the point; we often open a presentation by divulging what it will be about ( e.g., today I will discuss the three reasons why you should vote for X). In contrast, according to Hall and Hall, ”. Just as the verb often comes at the end of a German sentence, it takes a while for Germans to get to the point.” Germans also place great value on history and often commence a presentation with a discussion of the historical background of the subject at hand (49).

Chinese ( as well as other Southeast Asian languages and ASL), is a topic comment language. This term refers to the grammatical structure of its sentences. In contrast with English, which most often uses a subject-predicate style, 50 percent of Chinese utterances describe the topic first, which “sets the spatial, temporal or personal framework for the following assertion” (Young, 74). In other words, the topic gives the background information and the context needed to appreciate the new information or argument contained in the comment. An example is the sentence “Blue surf board, giant squid ate” cited by Linda Wai Ling Young in her essay “Inscrutability Revisited,” where she discusses the implications of this difference. In her study, Young went beyond the sentence level and noted how this same organizational framework applied to chunks of discourse expressed by native Chinese speakers when speaking English. She found that when the Chinese speakers were attempting to persuade others, they would start with the background and then make their main point at the end. The most striking finding in this study, which carries deep implications for sign language interpreters, is the strong negative reactions native English speakers expressed upon hearing a tape of Chinese speakers utilizing the topic comment structure in English. Without the introductory thesis statement common in English, “the main point .was initially lost on them because it lay buried in a mass of information” (79). The indirectness characterized by “the absence of a preview statement and the mere item-by-item listing of justifications” (80) may lead English speakers to view the Chinese discourse as “imprecise, unwieldy, and downright inept” (81). Young asserts that “a basic unawareness of alternative linguistic structures and discourse conventions can shade into doubts concerning the reasoning abilities of the Chinese mind” (79).

Interestingly, when the Chinese speakers were questioned about their discourse strategy, they expressed a strong distaste for the American style of beginning with a thesis statement. One person said he would stop listening after that first sentence, since it gives away the whole point. Others characterized such a direct approach as “pushy,” “inconsiderate,” and “rude.” In later chapters we will examine what happens when Deaf ASL users, like the Chinese speakers in this study, begin their discourse with an explanation of the background needed to view the present situation and not with the introductory statement that the hearing English speaker expects.

Aside from typically starting with an introductory statement, English presentational style usually proceeds from the general to the specific. American Sign Language, on the other hand, proceeds from the specific to the general. As an illustration of this point, I recently attended a lecture that Dr. Samuel]. Supalla gave on the subject of name signs in ASL. It happens that I wrote my master’s thesis on name signs and have lectured on it myself, so I am familiar with the subject. As Dr. Supalla (who is Deaf) lectured, my attention became drawn to the way he organized his presentation. It seemed to be a complete reversal of the approach I would take. I would probably start my lecture as follows: “Today we are going to talk about name signs in ASL. There are two major categories of name signs, descriptive and arbitrary. Here are some examples … Are there any comments or questions?” Sam, however, started like this: “My name is Sam Supalla. Does anyone in the audience know my name sign? It looks like this. Let me tell you the story of my name sign … Do people in the audience want to share the story of their name signs … ? By the way, we have been talking about two kinds of name signs, descriptive and arbitrary.” My approach proceeds from the general to the specific, while Sam’s went from the specific to the general. In addition, in my structure the lecture is separated from any questions or comments from the audience. Sam, however, used the stories and examples elicited from the audience members as threads with which he wove a collective lecture.

Persuasion

How do we go about convincing others? Americans prefer expert opinion, hard evidence, and facts that translate into numbers, statistics, and percentages. We even like imaginary numbers such as projected yields and the 2. 3 children that the average family is supposed to have. We see no role for emotions in the thinking process. Other cultures, such as those of France, Russia, or Latin America, prefer deductive to inductive reasoning. In this more abstract approach, they begin with a discussion of theory and principles and put less emphasis on data and evidence. In addition to the inductive and deductive approaches, there is a third one called relational thinking, which characterizes Chinese and Japanese thought patterns. In this mode, one pays more attention to context, relationships, and issues of group membership and identity. The person’s experience of the event is the fact that matters, not the so-called objective fact in itself (Stewart and Bennett, 42-44).

A particularly strong contrast with the American focus on ob1ectiv1ty is found in Arab culture, where one persuades not by logical arguments and facts but through an emotional presentation that exploits the beauty and vividness of stories and analogies. In terms of their speech mannerisms, Arabs shout when excited, for it signifies sincerity. They repeat themselves, exaggerate, and gesture a great deal. They quote as authorities the Prophet or the Koran and often make use of oaths such as “I swear by God …. “. Arabs utilize personalized arguments that may put personal pressure on the listeners to adopt their point of view, and they view discussions as arenas in which to display their verbal skills and personal charm(Nydell 44 ). Advertisements are mini lessons in persuasion. Hall and Hall contrast German, French, and American styles of attracting potential buyers with their print ads. The low-context German shoppers rely on a recitation of the facts (which incidentally are monitored for accuracy), so their ads are full of technical details, description, and analyses. French high-context culture expects shoppers to be already familiar with the product and so gives more focus to aesthetics, design, and the evocation of the appropriate feeling in the viewer. Print ads may consist of nothing more than one word-the name of the product-over a provocatively sexy photograph. One may see this ad plastered hundreds of times in Metro stations, on billboards, and in magazines, until the effect of so much aesthetic repetition triumphs. American ads, in contrast, often resort to exaggerated claims to persuade the consumer that their product is the best, the newest, or (in recent years) the lowest in fat or carbs.

Communicative Style in ASL

Let us look at rhetorical style and persuasion from a Deaf cultural viewpoint. What are some of the rhetorical forms of ASL? Besides the topic comment structure and beginning with the specific, another common structure is the time-sequenced and detailed narration that describes in chronological order the events of the day, week, and so forth, from the first to the last. A Deaf person arriving late for work, for example, would probably describe the reasons for being tardy in an extremely detailed, step by- step fashion, beginning with getting up, what happened when she tried to start the car, why the bus didn’t arrive on time, and so on-all leading up to her late arrival. In a similar situation, a hearing person would tend to give a shorter statement summarizing the cause of the tardiness. Shelley Lawrence, an instructor at Ohlone College in California, at an “Expansion Workshop” at an RID Region 5 conference in San Jose in 1996, identified seven characteristics of native ASL discourse, which she terms expansion features:

1. “contrasting feature”-used for emphasis, where the contrasting information states what something is as well as what it isn’t
2. “faceting” or descriptive elaboration-the use of several synonyms placed sequentially in order to more specifically define the subject
3. “reiteration” of the same signs either side by side or at the beginning and end of the utterance
4. “utilizing 30 space” in which objects or scenes are described from more than one perspective
5. “explaining by examples” rather than by giving a definition
6. “couching” or “nesting”-to identify an object or phenomenon by description, analogy, or function, instead of by label
7. “describe, then do,” which uses role shift to describe the manner in which an action was done (Smith 1996, 220).

In her article Features of Discourse in an American Sign Language Lecture, Cynthia Roy discusses several characteristics of ASL that relate to rhetorical style. One feature of ASL is the use of reported speech. Instead of reporting a dialogue between two people in the third person (i.e., he said … then she said … ), the speaker/signer constructs a first-person dialogue by assuming the roles of the people involved to make it more dramatic and interesting (Roy 1989). There are of course many more elements of rhetorical style in ASL that take advantage of its being a visual language.

What Persuades Deaf People?

Whom do Deaf people rely on as authorities? “Truths learned from personal experience take precedence over objective evidence. Deaf people … are unimpressed by abstract findings published in books or taught in universities unless they have personal experience consistent with it” (Smith 1996, 232). Interpreting a typical medical appointment, we sometimes run across a certain behaviour that can illuminate this point. In discussion with the doctor about their medical condition, Deaf people will often relate stories about their friends. If the deaf patient is suffering from some type of heart ailment, for example, he or she might tell the doctor about another Deaf person who had a similar condition and then go on to describe in detail what type of medication the friend took and with what results. Lacking the understanding that in Deaf culture the peer group serves as the trusted authority, the hearing doctor will usually dismiss this seeming digression and try to go back to the point without ever answering the patient’s implicit question regarding an alternative medication. If a hearing patient, however, were to bring up the same concern about a new blood pressure medication but cite the Internet, a magazine article, or a television news report as the source of the information, it is likely that the doctor would respond to that patient’s concerns directly.

Guilty or Innocent?

Another aspect of reasoning that is subject to cultural variation is the assignment of guilt or innocence. In Black and White Styles in Conflict,Thomas Kochman contrasts the ways whites and Blacks handle accusations and assert their innocence. Whites, if they hear a general accusation aimed at all whites or all men and consider themselves innocent of the charge, will demand some kind of qualification of apology from the accuser. Blacks, on the other hand, use the “individual exclusion rule” or, in everyday parlance, they think, “He ain’t talkin’ to me” and do not react. Whites observing this may misinterpret Blacks’ failure to react defensively as a tacit admission of guilt. The reverse also holds true: when Blacks see whites “issue a vigorous and defensive denial-the kind that whites often use when they feel falsely accused-Blacks consider this a confirmation of guilt, since they believe that only the truth would have been able to produce a protest of such intensity” (92).

It is interesting to note that even though the white style of asserting one’s innocence is characterized as “vigorous and defensive” compared with the Blacks’ way in the passage above, to the (white) hearing majority, Deaf rhetorical style could be seen as even more vehement. Because of the intense facial expression and strong body movements used in expressing a denial of guilt in ASL, police or court personnel may be all the more convinced that someone who “doth protest too much” is really guilty.

What constitutes proof of guilt in Deaf culture? Not surprisingly in such a visual culture, what the eye can see is of prime significance. For example, this story was related by an interpreter trainer who is an experienced legal interpreter. She was interpreting for a Deaf man who had been accused of a serious crime. During the trial, as expert witnesses testified to the large amount of circumstantial evidence that seemed to connect him to the crime, the defendant seemed unconcerned. When his lawyer later took him aside to inform him that his case did not seem hopeful, he was shocked. And when the lawyer reminded him of the circumstantial evidence, such as hair samples recovered from the carpet on which the crime had been committed and microscopic threads from the victim’s clothing found on the bottom of his shoe, he exclaimed, “So what? No one saw me do it!”

In this chapter we have examined in depth four major topics of study in the field of intercultural communication. As part of this examination, we have also identified several clear contrasts between mainstream American culture, which is by and large individualistic, low context, monochromic, and future oriented, and American Deaf culture, which can be characterized as collectivist, high context, polychronic, and past oriented. In addition, we have touched on some of the variations in communicative style among cultures.

My purpose has been to give you a sampling of the many different flavors that make up the smorgasbord of human experience. If sign language interpreters, like trained chefs, are familiar with the range of tastes shaped by cultural expectations, then we can blend our interpretations to suit the preferences of particular palates.

In-text references to add

Credit

This section is copied from chapter 3 in Mindness, A. (2014). Reading Between the Signs: Intercultural Communication for Sign Language Interpreters. Quercus.