In a bit of a departure from my encyclopedia-style non-fiction writing, today I’m going to describe my typical experience as an interpreter at a science fiction convention. This weekend will be my sixth trip to the Hunt Valley Inn north of Baltimore for the purposes of interpreting; I attended the same convention once or twice as a fan when I was a kid, but lately I only go to interpret. The two conventions I interpret for are Farpoint and Shore Leave; they are virtually identical in terms of format and most programming is the same, too.

The weekend begins on Friday night, with me bouncing in the passenger seat of the car all the way there. In years past I have tried to drive on the way up, but I am usually too nervous about the time and the expected events to drive safely, so I sit in the passenger seat and fidget while my partner drives. When we get there, we park in the temporary parking outside the front door; she goes in to register us and get the room keys and I go to pick up our name tags and program books. Sometimes they don’t have a name tag for my partner, so I have to beg to have a volunteer badge made because she needs to be able to bring me my lunch. She’s also expressed in the past that she is willing to actually volunteer, but they don’t usually have anything for her to do. Once I’ve picked up the packages and tags, I start looking for my contact person. This is easy at Shore Leave, because I know who I’m looking for; this weekend will only be my second time at Farpoint so I don’t quite remember who’s in charge. Also around this time I hope to run into the other interpreter, but sometimes I don’t touch base with her until later in the evening by phone.

There is programming at the convention on Friday night, but I’m not usually there to interpret for it. I usually arrive just as programming begins or slightly after, and I have to get situated in the hotel room and look over the program book and get myself squared away. I’ve never felt too bad about not interpreting for this Friday night programming, as it’s usually the same minor speakers - the authors and scientists - as will be presenting on Saturday morning. Typically on Friday night I try to locate my deaf clients and find out what programming they want to attend on Saturday morning. There are usually only two: a hard-of-hearing woman from New Jersey, who is mostly oral but uses the signing for support, especially if she’s having trouble lipreading a presenter, and a deaf man from northern Virginia. The male client doesn’t attend as much programming as the woman does; his wife is hearing and so they will sometimes go do other activities where she can interpret for him.

Unless I’ve been specifically asked to interpret something Friday night, I try to go to bed early because the day ahead of me will be very long. The hard-of-hearing woman usually wants to attend some of the panel discussions in the morning, and those usually start around 10am; if she isn’t interested in any of those she will usually go to listen to the minor presenters. At Shore Leave, my co-interpreter for the weekend teaches a very beginning sign language course on Saturday morning. Both of the deaf clients are usually there for the beginning, so I go as well; my co-interpreter will sometimes have me answer a few questions, but if both deaf clients are there then I usually end up chatting with them. When the female client wants to leave early to go hear a presenter, I go with her - I don’t think I’ve ever stayed for the entire sign language workshop! Sometimes in the morning she wants to attend one of the musical presentations; I usually go along and do the best I can, but it can be difficult to catch everything. I keep meaning to buy a CD but I never remember.

Once I am in the ballroom, I am usually there for several hours. Because our main client switches between lipreading the speaker and watching the interpreter, we sit on the edge of the stage fairly close to the “runway” where the speaker usually stands. Some speakers will ignore the interpreter completely, while others will interact with us; I had an amusing experience last year with actor Steve Bacic this way. I’m never sure if the actors (most of the big names are actors, of course) ignore the interpreter because they’re jaded from having worked with so many of them, because they were once told to ignore the interpreter, or because they’ve never worked with an interpreter before and they don’t know what’s appropriate! We are usually quite happy to educate, but there’s not usually an opportunity to do so because there are only a few minutes between presenters. My co-interpreter and I usually switch off every 20 minutes or so, but sometimes one of us will leave the ballroom and walk around for a bit (going to the bathroom is always a good idea), and we might end up leaving the other interpreter there for 30+ minutes. I’m not usually too bothered by this, but my co-interpreter is not a professional (she’s an elementary school teacher) so I try not to leave her alone for too long. In the afternoon on Saturday and Sunday, presenters come one right after the other, so at some point we simply indicate to each other that we’re going to get something to eat and we go. There have been times when my partner will bring me a Subway sandwich and I just gobble it down between presenters, but obviously that’s not the preferred way to have lunch.

I usually get a break around dinnertime on Saturday, and I use it to relax quietly in my room and have dinner. At 7:30 I make my way back to the main ballroom for the Masquerade (costume contest), usually entering through the hotel’s kitchen because I know the line for good seats will already be forming at the front ballroom entrance. Lately, I’ve been going directly to the lighting and sound people and asking for my light. For a few years they insisted they didn’t have any light to give us, and so when the room went to blackout between costume entries, the deaf clients would miss anything that was said. Finally, last February, I managed to convince them to give me a little spotlight on its own pole. I have to sit in a chair on the stage because my usual spot (sitting on the stage) is blocked by the judges’ table. So I have the spotlight next to me, and they usually give me a blue or gray gel so it’s not too glaring during the blackouts and yet the clients can still see me. I often do most of the Masquerade myself, simply because I enjoy it! Farpoint is not quite as large a convention as Shore Leave, and the contest is usually a bit shorter. Farpoint is usually done by 10:00pm, but Shore Leave’s Masquerade sometimes runs as late as 11:00pm. They both have musical interludes between judging categories and while the judges are tallying scores, and those are usually a pain for me as the interpreter because they’re all filk so there is very little chance I know the lyrics in advance. If I know the tune I can usually pick up all of the words and interpret them, but if I’m not familiar with the music then the whole thing pretty much goes out the window! When the Masquerade is over I bid good night to the clients, confirm what they want to do on Sunday morning, and go back to my room.

Sunday morning sometimes gets started a little later than Saturday - maybe not until 11:00am. I usually spend the first part of the day in the ballroom - really, that’s where I spend most of the convention - interpreting for the same speakers I did on Saturday. It’s much easier the second time around, because I’m used to the speaker’s voice and what they’ll talk about. Sometimes people miss the Saturday presentations and end up asking repeat questions on Sunday, so that makes life a bit easier too. My co-interpreter and I usually come up with two ways of switching - we’ll either do straight 20-minute shifts, or one of us will sign the questions and the other will sign the answers (not all presenters like Q&A, some do that exclusively for their hour). If there are two presenters as a team - my very first time at Shore Leave I had Richard Biggs and Jason Carter at the same time, and they were a handful, plus Jason Carter has an accent - then my co-interpreter and I usually work at the same time, with one of us taking each of the speakers. This can actually be kind of difficult, because we’re used to just interpreting everything, so we frequently sign over each other before realizing the speaker has changed!

On Sunday afternoon, the main presenters are usually done by about 4:00. I get a couple of hours for dinner, and then the female client usually wants to stay to see the little play that is often put on. This is usually quite difficult to interpret because the actors aren’t properly miked, so half the time we can’t hear what’s going on. (Did I mention this is a low-budget event?) We usually make our way through it somehow, though.

My partner always has to drive me home on Sunday, and we are usually home by 8:00pm. I tend to sleep on the way back! Five straight hours of lecture-style interpreting on Saturday and Sunday are exhausting, and the three-hour Masquerade on Saturday night just adds to the fatigue. It’s a great experience, though, and I don’t think I would otherwise have the opportunity to interpret for celebrities. And anyway, I enjoy being at these conventions - I often feel comfortable there, like I’m around people who know what it’s like to be a geek and a nerd. I work like crazy for two whole days and get paid an amount that would only buy 90 minutes from an interpreting agency (plus they give me the hotel room for the weekend), but I have a really good time.

Essay word count: 1760
Additional resources: Shore Leave, Farpoint.
What’s this? See nonficwrimo.

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