Carrie K. Snider (Needs author at bottom added)
Inspired by her deaf aunt, Jelsa Seid found her life purpose early on — bridging the gap between the deaf and hearing worlds as an American Sign Language interpreter. And while it can be a challenging job, she wouldn’t change it for anything.
It all started when her aunt taught her to sign at a young age.
“She would get me Sesame Street Sign Language books and teach me,” Seid said. “I was raised in the household communicating with her. I love my aunt, and we had a great bond. I just really wanted to communicate with her. It came easy for me, and I loved it.”
Not everyone in her family learned to sign, so Seid became her aunt’s main interpreter.
“I got so frustrated growing up with my aunt always asking me, ‘What are they saying?’ So, I finally became an interpreter. Whether it was a restaurant or an event or family or whatever, I always interpreted for her.”
Signing at home with family is a lot different than interpreting out in the world, she said. “I had to learn the skill.”
She attended Pierce College in California to study sign language. Her first job was with a deaf program at a public school, where she worked for 17 years.
“I worked with a deaf teacher who I would call my deaf mom,” Seid said. “She was awesome.”
The teacher’s deaf family and deep cultural knowledge became a source of mentorship for Seid.
A big part of sign language, she learned, is facial expression. While an interpreter signs, they match the speaker’s energy to carry the nonverbal cues.
“It’s kind of like the intonation in your voice,” she said. “Your eyebrows go up and down if you're shocked or what have you. You just show on your face what you hear in your ears. It’s a lot of expression.”
The deaf teacher Seid worked with taught classes of various ages of deaf students who also attended a traditional public school. They’d take certain classes with her, then join lunch, P.E. and other activities with hearing students. That’s how the deaf community operated in California, where there were more services and opportunities than in New York, where Seid's aunt was born.
“That’s why my aunt had originally moved to California,” Seid said.
Moving to Buckeye
After a long career in California, things changed for Seid. The pandemic hit the deaf community hard, and California had very tight restrictions. Ultimately, Seid moved to Arizona. Friends lived in Buckeye, so she decided to give it a try.
“It was a big culture shock at first,” she said, citing Buckeye’s rural nature and sparse deaf population.
Eventually, she started working for the Arizona State Schools for the Deaf and Blind, which offers services to schools throughout Arizona. For Seid, that means following students within traditional classrooms.
“Whenever they're in session, I'm in the classroom,” she said.
Right now, she interprets for a junior high student in Buckeye and assists at West-MEC as needed.
“Anytime my student isn’t in session, I am free to go do other interpreting jobs,” she added.
While technology has helped people in the deaf community — from light systems for doorbells or smoke alarms to bed shakers and cochlear implants — her job hasn’t changed much. Students still need her to interpret what teachers and classmates say in real time.
Each student is unique, especially when considering whether they come from a hearing family or a deaf family. Some students grow up learning only ASL and may not know much written English, while others are taught both.
“For some students, their reading and writing abilities lag compared to an average student,” Seid said. “So, texting has made communicating easier, but only if they know written English grammar.”
Seid also taught her own daughter sign language as her first language. Her daughter is hearing, but young children can usually sign before they can speak.
Challenges of signing
Deaf students face more challenges than most people realize, Seid explained.
“For a profoundly deaf student, watching an interpreter all day can cause visual fatigue. They might need short breaks to rest their eyes and brain,” she said. “Students with cochlear implants can experience hearing fatigue too. Because listening isn’t natural for them, it takes extra focus and energy.”
Socially, deaf students in hearing schools may feel different. “That’s where we come in,” she said. “We interpret what everybody says so they can feel included.”
How that affects them depends on personality. Outgoing students tend to do well, while more reserved students might feel isolated. “It really just depends, just like a hearing kid.”
Being ready for any situation is a big part of her job as a sign language interpreter. Recently, the school where she interprets for a local Buckeye student had an assembly. It was loud and chaotic. Seid jumped right in.
“If they sound crazy and are trying to get the audience riled up, then I have to look crazy and get the audience riled up,” she said. “I just kind of project everything I hear to make it very inclusive.”
Sign language classes
One thing Seid wishes is that more hearing people had the chance to learn sign language.
“I wish all schools taught sign language, just like they teach Spanish,” she said. “Anybody can go deaf in an accident, from being too sick, or a high fever. Anybody can go deaf at any time in their life.”
Sign language is also a powerful tool for children who aren’t verbal, such as those with autism or Down syndrome. “They can use sign language as well to communicate,” she said.
For those who want to learn, she recommends YouTube tutorials and learning apps such as Signing Time, which she used with her daughter.
More recently, Seid’s aunt has also gone blind, adding another challenge on top of being deaf. So now Seid uses tactile signing — communicating through touch.
“It’s pretty amazing,” she said. “Her hands are on my hands, and they follow mine around as I sign.”
It’s a huge gift Seid can offer her aunt, but in return, her aunt gave her the gift of a lifetime — a career helping others find their voice through her hands.
