Insight: Five things I wish I knew before starting my interpreting career (BSL)

When I first started working as an English – British Sign Language interpreter, I assumed the hardest part would be the languages and all their intricacies. Turns out, it’s not the languages at all. It’s everything else happening while you’re trying to work with both of them at the same time. 

Here are five things I wish someone had told me before I started—mostly learned the hard way, usually while quietly panicking behind a conference table or eating a very sad sandwich in a corridor somewhere. 

1. Mental fatigue is real (and slightly invisible)

Interpreting is not just “listening and speaking.” It’s constant switching—between languages, registers, people, and roles. 

You’re absorbing meaning, reformulating it, monitoring yourself, and staying socially invisible while doing all of it. It is exhausting in a way that is quite hard to explain to anyone who hasn’t done it. 

Early on, I thought I just needed more stamina. Now I realise it’s not about stamina—it’s about cognitive load. Your brain is effectively running two operating systems at once, while also trying not to lag. 

This is why co-working isn’t a luxury, it’s essential. Long assignments, conferences, or intense environments shouldn’t be done alone if they can be shared. It’s not about weakness—it’s about sustainability and occasionally, survival!

2. Always take snacks (seriously) 

No one warns you that interpreting involves a surprising amount of waiting in corridors, travelling at odd hours, or being placed in venues where food is both expensive and spiritually disappointing. 

I have learned, over time, that hunger is not a minor inconvenience in this job—it is a full cognitive impairment. 

You cannot simultaneously interpret complex ideas and ignore the fact you are three hours past lunch and someone has just offered you a biscuit that tastes like cardboard. 

So now I pack snacks. I pack a lunch. I pack a coffee. And yes, I have absolutely stopped at McDonald’s more times than I would ever admit in professional company. 

3. Deaf people can be brutally honest (and that’s part of the charm) 

One of the most refreshing—and occasionally humbling—things about working in the Deaf community is that people notice everything. 

And I mean everything. 

The coldsore you thought you successfully concealed? Not concealed.

The trouser leg tucked into your sock? Already been pointed out. 

The slightly questionable haircut decision you made at 7am? It has entered the chat. 

At first this can feel intense if you’re used to hearing-world politeness culture. But over time, you realise it’s not cruelty—it’s directness. And it keeps you grounded. If you can’t handle being gently observed and occasionally roasted, interpreting in the Deaf community might be… character-building. 

4. Not everyone understands what you actually do 

One of the more surprising parts of the job is how often you are misread in professional settings. I’ve been assumed to be a support worker, a carer, a relative, or “just helping out.” 

And in those moments, the interpreting process itself becomes invisible. What many people don’t realise is that interpreters are not there to add opinions or participate in the content of the interaction. You are there to facilitate communication—not to be part of the conversation. 

That boundary is important, but it isn’t always understood by others in the room. Sometimes you have to hold that line quietly, repeatedly, and without it ever being acknowledged. It’s a strange kind of invisibility—being essential, but not always seen as such. 

5. You need interpreter friends—but you also need a life outside interpreting 

Some of my closest friends are other interpreters, and for good reason. Nobody understands the mental fatigue, the awkward logistics, or the emotional weight of certain assignments like someone who has lived it too. 

But I’ve also learned that if all your friendships live inside your professional world, your brain never really gets a break. 

You start talking in linguistic shorthand, analysing every interaction, and processing life like it’s a conference feed. So boundaries matter. Work hours matter. Switching off matters.

And sometimes, you need to step into completely unrelated spaces where nobody is discussing terminology, ethics, or assignment logistics. Just normal life and different conversations. 

I hope this blog is useful for anyone starting out in interpreting, or thinking about it as a career. It’s a challenging job, but a rewarding one—and we all do it best when we support and lift each other up along the way.

Would you add anything to this list?

This blog has been shared anonymously as part of the Insight series – created by Assistant editor Rebecca A Withey.

If you have a story, experience or viewpoint you would like to anonymously share please email Rebecca on  rebecca@rawithey.com

Image courtesy of Pexels.