91×ÔÅÄÂÛ̳

He’s a barrier buster. He’s bilingual. He connects others while remaining superficial.

When Aaron Capps learned to sign the alphabet as a child, he found his life’s passion and a career. Now he’s one of just a few on the LU campus who can communicate in American Sign Language “stratified squamous epithelium.”

The Bridge City native, who has been a staff interpreter at 91×ÔÅÄÂÛ̳ since 1996, has two degrees from LU – a bachelor’s degree in general studies and a master’s degree in deaf studies and deaf education. Although he has worked other places, including Texas A&M University, he appreciates being home close to family, working for his alma mater and doing what has “fascinated” him since childhood – signing to connect people.

“I enjoy people connecting and being able to facilitate that type of connection,” said Aaron.

Being in a conversation but not entering the discussion or even conveying an opinion about the topic in any way is one of the biggest challenges of Aaron’s work. 

“I can’t be married to the conversation. It’s not about me, but their personalities are coming through my interpretation. It’s about the people in the conversation and that dynamic. The last thing you want is a biased interpreter.”

Further difficult is interpreting emotional conversations, staying true to the content and finding ways to convey highly specialized vocabulary. When discussions get emotional, Aaron says he stays neutral in the moment but sometimes has to process his own emotions later when he’s removed from the situation.

Interpreters like Aaron are also challenged when they understand what is being conveyed and believe they can possibly explain it better. “Some of my struggles involve teachers conveying a concept that I know a different way because of my background and believe that the student may learn better if I give more or different information, but I’m to provide equal access not better.”

When interpreting terminology for specific fields of study, like nursing, where ASL doesn’t have a sign for certain physiological terms, the interpreter’s job to break the linguistic barrier is all the more difficult. Aaron has to prepare in advance when he knows his work will involve specific terminology. 

“When I’m interpreting for a professor with highly specialized terminology, I go through the course program and learn what terms mean in conceptual chunks.” For example, Aaron breaks down the term “stratified squamous epithelium,” by its meaning. “Stratified” means “layered;” “squamous” is the type of cell, which is flattened; and “epithelium” is the type of tissue.

Attending classes across campus and hearing lectures on every subject matter offered would seemingly make Aaron, and the other eight interpreters working for LU, the most knowledgeable people on campus. Aaron says not so.

“We know what it is conceptually for interpretative conveyance and don’t retain the information beyond a superficial level. Interpreters know a little bit about everything. Some are experts in science, some in math, others love humanities. The interpreter you get is based on skill sets.”

Aaron, like the other interpreters on campus, works for the deaf and for the hearing. In the classroom setting he is working for the professor to convey the material to deaf students and working for the deaf student to help them understand the course work.

“People using services are everyone in the room. I’ve been in rooms where hearing people were in the minority.”

He’s also interpreted dissertations for deaf students and communicated dissertations to deaf audience members, which he considers truly rewarding.

“You can’t share or tell anyone what is presented but you’re one of the first people to hear new research and what comes from it.”

Of recent, Aaron has interpreted for audiences on campus and beyond. During the pandemic, interpreters provided access for the deaf for Facebook Live events, online meetings and prerecorded lectures for professors. “We’ve been incredibly busy during the pandemic and are just trying to provide access as quickly and efficiently as we can.”

The pandemic caused Aaron to miss his favorite LU Moment this year – commencement. Every year he anticipates the ceremony where students he has spent time with and come to know achieve their goals.

“I love watching students, who have been provided communication access, walk across the stage and get their diplomas. They have overcome a language barrier, had to study twice as hard working in course work not written in their native language, and they did it all on their own. They put in the effort.”

Due to COVID-19 Aaron’s favorite pastime is also missing in his life. Aaron is gamer, a board gamer. In normal times, he and his gaming friends gather to play “Settlers of Catan” and “Betrayal at House on the Hill.” In the meantime, Aaron has read a lot of books and watched a lot of movies. He’s a huge fan of anything “vampire.”

“Once the pandemic is over, I think I’m going to hug people more, have people in my home around the game table, go to the beach, and I just want more of those interactions with people.”

In all times, Aaron is going to continue to break linguistic barriers and give access to the deaf community at LU to help them succeed.

“Deaf people can do anything hearing people can do.”