So you think Charades is a wholesome game, allowing family and friends to enjoy an evening of fun? Maybe you’re right. But consider how this activity discriminates against the deaf and/or mute community, while minimizing the importance of an entire language.
We all have at least a passing familiarity with Charades. No talking allowed. You act out a secret phrase using what the game rules call “pantomime.” The pastime takes away the ability to communicate vocally, requiring instead the use of gestures. This is considered a game—an entertaining way to pass the time and have a few laughs. For the non-vocal or deaf community, though, this is their life. When thought of in this manner, Charades is less a fun game, and more an insult to an entire language. It discriminates against the entire community of American Sign Language (ASL) speakers.
I’ll be using the term speak when, umm . . . speaking about ASL. Speech should encompass all forms of communication: verbal, written, signed, etc. The concept of speech in common parlance, though, has morphed into the verbal component only. Not unlike how the generic term “Doctor” has come to mean a physician rather than anyone who’s earned a Doctorate degree. Like, for a random example . . . ohh, I don’t know . . . a pharmacist.
But I digress. You might think ASL speakers would be among the best players of Charades. Or is it Charade players? Charadists? Too many digressions, Brad! Anyway . . . an ASL speaker’s full set of communication is basically a very elaborate, agreed upon solution to Charades: no speaking, acting out of words and phrases, reliance on facial expressions for emphasis and added meaning. A team fluent in ASL is a Charades World Championship contender. But as far as I can glean there is no Charades World Championship, or any competitions of any renowned. The lack of high level contests is a sign [pun partially intended] that at least one of the following are at play: the game is solved (Tic-Tac-Toe), there’s a lack of interest (Russian roulette), or there’s a high propensity for cheating (Charades).
It seems pretty obviously that ASL would totally defeat the spirit of Charades.
If it were your turn to act out the simple phrase, “Throwing a ball,” how would you attack it? You’d likely mime a simple throwing motion, followed by making a spherical shape in front of you with both hands. You acted out the phrase without speaking, so according to the rules of Charades, this is perfectly legit. But guess what? You unknowingly signed “throw” and “ball” just as they are in ASL. Thus you spoke, albeit in a language you do not know. And there are a plethora of signs that would be exactly what you’d imagine they’d be: drink, sleep, book, 1, 2 (but probably not 3), etc. So, does there need to be an ASL speaker present at all games of Charades to verify no legit ASL signs are used in the actor’s actions?
Well, no. The rules of Charades say you can’t speak—as in verbally. What you don’t know can’t be used against you, though, so it’s okay to use legit ASL signs if you don’t know you’re using them. But you can’t knowingly speak with ASL because that’s outright cheating. Charades discriminates against people who know ASL, preventing them from playing the game. It’s also discriminatory toward the entire deaf community, minimizing ASL from an important language, into little more than a game to amuse us and pass the time.
There’s another game, called Poetry For Neanderthals, that came out in 2020. You try to get teammates to guess a target word or phrase while speaking in only 1-syllable words. If you say a multisyllabic word, you get bonked on the head with an inflatable club. I’ve never played the game myself—you know, because of all the COVID-19 mandated social distancing, and my general lack of friends. But I’d imagine it’d be hard to suddenly stop using all 2-syllable or greater words. That eliminates somewhere in the neighborhood of 30% of English words. Even with a whopping 70% of the language still at our disposal, the game would likely be a challenge.
Now, imagine how difficult it would be for ASL speakers to play Charades when you eliminate 100% of their vocabulary. They’re at the further disadvantage that non-ASL speakers can get away with using the signs for eat, sleep, drink, etc. because the motions don’t represent words in a language to them. They’re merely actions to help them win a game. On top of that, teammates are allowed to verbalize their guesses, but many ASL speakers are mute. Even if they could verbalize a guess, the actor likely couldn’t hear them anyway. It’s a trifecta of discrimination.
I’m reminded of a customer at the pharmacy who spoke very little English other than this nearly perfectly delivered joke she offered me:
“Know how Asians name children?
We throw pots and pans down stairs: Ding, Gong, Bing, Wang, Dang.”
A perfectly fine joke, being that it targeted her own culture and language. But discriminatory comments and actions about other languages or cultures are highly disrespectful—even if they’re hidden within the guise of a game.
Since this argument was posted at the exact same time as the inauguration of the new POTUS, I’d be remiss if I didn’t speak to another, completely disparate use of the word “charade.” Depending on your political leanings, the charades of the outgoing Trump Administration are just ending, or those of the Biden Administration are about to begin. Maybe a little from column A, little from column B.
So, you still think Charades is a wholesome game for an evening of enjoyment with friends and family? Tell you what, I’d much rather play Charades than Pictionary. Especially since I have a baseline understanding of ASL that maybe I can secretly use to my advantage. And I can’t draw for shit! It’s better to be accused of cheating at Charades and booted from the game, than be laughed out of the room for an attempted sketch of the United States that gets guesses of “turd” and “big, fat turd.” So, I guess, yeah, come to think of it . . . You’re Probably Right.
[028] January 20, 2021