Art ‘n Me ‘n MVSL
by Richard Oxman

I don’t remember who I was going to see in Martha’s Vineyard, but I had to hitchhike once I got off of the ferry to see the too-wealthy young sweetie. Or couple. I do remember that it was around the mid-sixties.

Art Buchwald picked me up in a Volks Bug. I didn’t know who he was –even though I was quite old enough to, and –considering my professional goal at the time– sure as hell should have.

Noticed today, in an AP obit (http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20070118/ap_on_en_ot/obit_Buchwald), that he had had a serious bout with depression in ‘63. Seems like there’s a parallel there with what’s plaguing activists today. “You do get over it, and you get over it a better person,” he once said of the illness. Good for him. I don’t know about that, but I do have a recommendation for down-and-almost-out activists. To wit, the point of this piece.

Martha’s Vineyard Sign Language (MVSL) is a sign language (now extinct), once widely used on the island of Martha’s Vineyard off the coast of Massachusetts, U.S, from the early 18th century to the late 20th century. It was remarkable for its use by both deaf and hearing people in the community; consequently, deafness did not become a barrier to participation in public life. Martha’s Vineyard Sign Language is also notable for the role it played in the development of American Sign Language.

The language was able to thrive on Martha’s Vineyard because of the unusually high percentage of deaf islanders. In 1854, when the island’s deaf population peaked, the United States national average was one deaf person in 5728, while on Martha’s Vineyard it was one in 155. In the town of Chilmark, where most of the deaf people lived, it was 1 in 25; in a section of Chilmark called Squibnocket, as much as a quarter of the population of 60 was deaf.

Hearing people sometimes signed even when there were no deaf people present: children signed behind a schoolteacher’s back, adults signed to each other quietly during a sermon at church, and farmers signed to their children across a wide field, where the spoken word would not carry. Frequently, the punch lines to dirty jokes were told only in sign language.

(Merci, Wikipedia!)

That’s the only thing can save the tiny core group of activists (predisposed to Buchwald-like kidney failure vis-à-vis reform politics) who remain in the U.S. today.

Oui, Mau Mau-like oaths and Kikuyu-like language for survival.

The depressing thing is the clear cut absence of great numbers in support of fundamental change. The sure-fire torture in store for anyone who rises above the Buchwald-level of satire. The unacknowledged Beuchenwalds and Mauthausens being created in our jungle.

The upbeat note is that –like Art– you can thrive in this hospice of ours for quite some time (whilst suffering from your intake of sweets)…saying goodbye to one and all with a smile.

Getting ready for what’s real…with or without rides with other (deaf) people.

Richard Oxman, at rmoxman NOatSPAM yahoo.com, fancies that one of the main differences between him and other frustrated left writers is that he knows why it’s necessary to communicate obliquely these days…in Los Gatos, California…and elsewhere. The most updated versions of his articles always appear at www.oxtogrind.org; initial postings are here are often first drafts.