Communication

I recently had the pleasure of seeing Sandi Patty perform. This talented singer has performed for years, and had several hit/award winning songs on the charts. On the day I saw her sing, we were at Conseco hall in Indianapolis, Indiana. This venue allowed for a concert, “in the round,” where performers played on center stage, and often turned or changed position, so they could face every part of the audience at some point in the performance. Meanwhile, cameras projected their faces on at least four large screens hanging at the top of the arena. Everything was very loud, very exciting, and very entertaining, but I noticed that none of us could feel terribly close to the performers, due to the vast size of the room.

Another thing I had noticed as I sat in my seat enjoying the concert was that there was a young woman translating into sign language everything that was being said or sung on stage to a large section of seats, where, presumably, all the deaf attendees were sitting. The translator remained well-lit and stood on the main floor, just in front of this section. When Sandi sang her first two songs, I was charmed by the translator’s ability to convey the lyrics, sometimes in small movements, sometimes in large, sweeping gestures.

About the time I noticed the signer, Sandi had finished her second song and placed the microphone back in its stand, though the music was still playing loudly. As the crowd applauded and screamed praises, she turned to face the signer and that section of the hall. She moved her own hands. “I’m going to sign,” she mouthed without a sound as the music and the crowd roared around her. Though the signer could not have heard a word over the performance din, she gracefully left her place in front of the crowd and took a seat. At the same time, the part of the crowd who had been watching the signer stood in unison and applauded, as if on cue, and Sandi began to sign, and sing, her most famous and inspiring lyric. 

I was awestruck, but not because Sandi could sign. I was struck by the fact that, had Sandi spoken those instructions into the microphone for all of us to stand, we would not have heard her over the noise in the hall. Always, when people speak from stage, the music volume comes down and crowds are hushed. But in this case, Sandi was able to communicate perfectly, right through the cacophony, and directly to the select group of individuals, in a crowd of over 14,000, whom she meant to address. If we thought that group of deaf people could not hear Sandi that night, we were mistaken. They “heard” her as clearly as any of us who were not called “deaf.”

I want that. I want to be able to hear over the noise: the noise of my own thoughts, the noise of my past failures, the noise of what I think I cannot do. I want the image of that entire section of people responding together to remind me that our differences don’t have to limit us. I want to remember that communication can happen, even when I think it’s impossible.

The Living in Joy Challenge: Is there someone with whom you have not been communicating very well? Your teenager? Your husband? Your coworkers? Try a different language. If you usually try to communicate with long discussions, for example, try, instead, to use actions to demonstrate the behavior you want to see. If you are usually quiet and serious, try to be fun and spontaneous. Get creative. I am excited to hear how you changed your communication styles. Be sure to let me know how it goes! J