Tactual sign language to support visual sign language
1/19/2016 4:46 PM
I remember the first time I felt Dylan’s hands on mine as I
signed to him, and how quickly his attention shifted to that signing and my face. He was three years old, and we were walking
down the path outside of his preschool.
At last there was shared attention with which to foster relationship and
communication. I can’t tell you the joy
I felt in that moment.
We had been modeling visual sign language since Dylan was
only a few months old, but he was not initiating signs on his own, or even
copying our signs. I’d been advised to
take my hand and form his into the proper hand shape and guide his hand and arm
through the proper movement—my hand on top, my hand in control. Well, I don’t know about your kids or
students, but Dylan did not respond well to this. Each time I tried, he would withdraw his
hands from mine and turn away. There he
was with his hands fisted against his chest and his head turned away from
mine. Not exactly the shared
communication and relationship I was aiming for.
I’ve always been a follow Dylan’s lead kind of mom. When he didn’t relax into my shoulder to
cuddle as my other babies had done, I learned to hold him facing out. When he didn’t like to snuggle in my arms, I
learned he responded better to my nurturing, with my sitting next to him and
touching him rather than me holding him.
(Who knows perhaps he needed to see me or see out where we were
going.) The point being, if I had
persisted in trying to parent him as I had my other children, we would both have
been frustrated. Instead, we enjoyed a
responsive, communicative relationship. Dylan’s
communications - cries, withdrawal, relaxation, smiles - were noticed and
responded to, and I think he learned he could trust me to respond to his
communication about what was working for him.
But how was I to help us move beyond touch and body language
to communicating through words? Having
Dylan withdraw and turn away as I tried to form his hands into signs or words
did not fit at all with our existing communication style and relationship, but he
wasn’t responding to my visual sign even though it seemed he had adequate
vision to see it. What was the answer?
At last, I asked Ed Gervasoni, Dylan’s Orientation and
Mobility Specialist, about tactual sign.
I’d heard about it, but really had no idea how to start. Should I be beside him or across from him,
how should I position our hands, how would he get a sense of what I was saying
if his hand wasn’t actually making the sign?
Ed simply put his hands underneath mine and started signing. You mean it’s as easy as that, I thought.
Next thing I knew there I was with Dylan; I put my hands
under his and started to sign something and he didn’t pull away. Even better, his eyes came towards my face
and to our hands, giving me that sense of connection and relationship I
wanted. It was much later that I learned
that touching the palms of both hands triggers an orienting reflex. It is a protective reflex that says pay
attention to what is touching your hands.
So for the first time, as I signed, Dylan’s brain was tuned in to what
was happening. I knew then that this
would be the way that we could continue the touch and body language driven relationship
and communication we had and help move his language development to a higher
level. And as is true with hand-under-hand
used for other purposes, the hands have helped Dylan to see, and allowed him control
of the input and movement.
Over the years, the hardest part about tactual sign has been
the impression that Dylan gets adequate information visually to learn language
and concepts so doesn’t need tactual sign.
When we adults see him navigate the world as a sighted person, it is
easy to think that he can understand what we are signing to him the same way he
visually knows when the sidewalk ends and the grass starts or how to find his
way around on a very large campus. We
forget that the brain needs information from 2 or more senses to form
concepts. We forget that pairing touch
and vision help Dylan’s brain hold onto what he has seen, so he can use that
information and learn from it. Then over
time with enough repetition, Dylan does learn the visual sign and with
familiarity of the sign and use of it in routine, the touch can be faded away. As with everything else with Dylan, it is a
fine line in expecting him to rise to the challenge of using his vision, and
recognizing that sometimes he still needs the tactual support to use his vision
more effectively and with less fatigue.
My older children had bedtime songs that I sang to them
every night. For Dylan, I signed the
same songs. This was a very familiar
part of our routine, and he seemed to be connected with the process. Then one day I needed a photo or video of
tactual sign as an example for a presentation the next day. I asked Roy to video the bedtime songs that
night and for the first time offered my hands to Dylan before I started. Reaching out and placing his hands on top of
mine, Dylan accepted my invitation and together we started signing, hands to
hands, eyes to eyes, and heart to heart.
Part way through, Dylan lifted his left hand off of mine and began to
sign with me. There it was, from passive to active through the simple act of
pairing touch with the vision, even in familiar routines, with familiar signs. I was reminded of how often I thought his
vision was enough.
Even now, as Dylan is so into watching and imitating signs,
tactual sign is woven throughout the day.
In the past, I had to remember to offer tactual sign. Now, by reaching for my hand, Dylan lets me
know when he needs the touch to get more information or to rest his eyes. Talk with me this action says, and I do.
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