Sign, Sign, Everywhere a Sign

They told stories, exchanged gossip and even tried out pick-up lines, all without breaking their silence during a late-night visit to a shopping mall.

Hundreds of people, using their language--hand signs and lip reading--chatted away in the strangely quiet scene Friday night at the Block at Orange. The only sounds were swaying arms and the clicking of hands and fingers.

The monthly gathering that began as a small kaffeeklatsch has spontaneously grown into a national phenomenon, drawing as many as 600 people from across Southern California and as far away as New York and Washington, D.C.

The event has filled a vacuum caused by what some scholars say is the increasing physical isolation of deaf people from each other. Advances for the deaf such as mainstreaming in education and the workplace, e-mail, and closed-captioned television have unintentionally worked to eliminate the need for face-to-face contact.

“There’s a backlash against all that,” said Karen Nakamura, an anthropology professor who specializes in deaf studies at Macalester College in St. Paul, Minn. “You need something more in life.”

At the Block, the diverse group instantly shifts to “Deaf Standard Time.” It’s a time when deaf people, longing to dive into their own culture, finally get a chance, and simply forget the clock. Friendships are made, long-lost classmates are found and romances bloom (at least two marriages so far).

But the event--popularized mostly through e-mail and the Internet--is teetering under the weight of its own success. The crowds have grown large enough to clog the walkways of the shopping center, raising safety concerns among mall and police officials.

Friday night, for the first time, the mall management hired three interpreters to help with crowd control.

Perched on a small stage, security guards got the crowd’s attention by shining flashlights in their eyes. And then, through the interpreters, they repeatedly asked the group to spread out throughout the mall and leave walkways open.

Colleen Dunn, the center’s general manager, said the mall welcomes the group and wants to work out any problems. “Safety issues are our only concern,” she said.

Some attendees said they understood the problem and appreciated mall officials’ sensitivity in trying to thin out the crowds.

“We understand it’s hard to move us [because of our hearing problems],” said John Yingst, who teaches a class on deaf culture at Golden West College. “The interpreters tonight helped a lot. People just need to understand the deaf culture is different.”

For example, it’s difficult for deaf people to walk and communicate at the same time because sign language and lip reading must occur face to face. The result at the Block is stationary clumps of people blocking passageways.

Some are exploring if a bigger venue--maybe a park, community center or bigger shopping mall--can be found.

That may prove difficult. The Block offers a hip and freeway-friendly location in the center of Orange County.

“I love it here,” said Marcella Chodak of Corona. “It’s a great place to gather.”

The mall’s well-lit walkways allow for easy signing, and the evening is free, an appealing factor for many.

The center’s unique characteristics may be the reason the Block has become the destination of choice for deaf people over the last two years while similar gatherings in Los Angeles and Riverside remain small.

In fact, the crowd grew so large that the original sponsor, the Southern California Recreation Assn. of the Deaf, stopped hosting the event. But people just kept coming every second Friday of the month.

Starbucks Coffee is ground zero for the gathering. Some employees have picked up some sign language. They also write names on the side of coffee cups so deaf customers know when their lattes are ready.

Gladys Berman comes to the Block each month with her 11-year-old daughter, who is deaf. “The deaf kids are so isolated from each other,” Berman said. “This is a special time. Just look at her.”

Ponytailed Danielle Berman, a wide smile on her face, chatted with a group of other preteens using sign language.

“I love it here because it’s fun,” Danielle said later. “It’s great to socialize with the deaf.”

Chris Parent, who grew up in Southern California, was able to tell his former classmates Friday that news of his death was greatly exaggerated. After a series of cross-country moves, Parent, 36, had lost touch with friends. He flew in Friday from Phoenix to attend the gathering at the Block.

“I got the chills and cried a bit,” Parent said. “My friends said, ‘No, it can’t be you. You’re dead.’ ”

Mall shoppers who walk the silent gantlet of deaf people talking often stop in amazement. Occasionally, deaf people encounter rude remarks from passersby. But for the most part, their presence seems to be a welcomed addition to the mall’s eclectic mix.

“What a nice change of atmosphere,” said Jorge Rivero of Orange. “It shows that all kinds of people can be found here, it doesn’t matter who you are. It makes me want to go out and learn sign language.”

Meanwhile, the crowd talked long into the night, which was no surprise to Ed Kelly, who is hearing impaired and works with the deaf.

“At any party with deaf people, they will be the last to leave--every time.”