Why Imposter Syndrome Hits Sign Language Interpreters Harder and What You Can Do About It

Have you ever walked out of an assignment, replayed every single choice you made, and concluded you had absolutely no business being there?

If you're a sign language interpreter, there's a very good chance the answer is yes. And if so, you're in excellent company.

Impostor Syndrome in Interpreting is Real and Widespread

Research conducted by BSL interpreters Brett Best, Jules Dickinson, and Jill Henshaw found that 84.7% of sign language interpreters have experienced impostor feelings. Nearly nine in ten. That is not a personal flaw. That is a profession-wide phenomenon, and it deserves to be understood as such.

I have experienced impostor syndrome myself, and honestly, I still do. But where it used to block me, I now recognize it, analyze it, and work through it. My researcher's mind eventually asked: why does this hit our profession so hard? Here is what I found. Let me know if it resonates.

But First … What is Impostor Syndrome, Really?

Impostor syndrome (IS) is the persistent feeling of not being good enough, even when the evidence says otherwise. It is the internal voice that whispers you got lucky, they're going to find out, someone else would have done that better, regardless of your training, your experience, or your track record.

Crucially, impostor syndrome is not the same as incompetence. It happens despite evidence of skill, not because of a lack of it. Many interpreters who report strong impostor feelings are, by any objective measure, competent and qualified professionals. So if it is not about skill, what is it about? The answer lies in the specific structural conditions of our field.

4 Structural Conditions in Interpreting That Fuel Impostor Syndrome

1. There is no single linguistic norm

French has the Académie Française, an institution that officially decides what is correct and what is not. English has no equivalent, but it has centuries of written tradition, widely recognized reference dictionaries, and massive institutional presence in education worldwide. That creates a sense of stability, even without official enforcement.

ASL and LSF have none of that infrastructure. No central authority, no universally recognized reference, and significant variation across regions, generations, and communities. Contact signing, regional signs, generational differences. All of it creates a state of permanent linguistic uncertainty that spoken language interpreters rarely face to the same degree. When there is no "correct answer" to point to, it is easy to conclude that you must be the problem. You are not. The uncertainty is structural.

2. Initial training never fully prepares you

A master's degree in interpreting is a beginning, not a finish line. The gap between a four or five-year program and 40 years of professional practice is enormous, and ongoing professional development is far less structured in our field than in many others. Interpreters routinely encounter situations they were never formally trained for. That recurring feeling of being out of your depth? It is the system, not a flaw in you.

3. You work under constant, unavoidable exposure

In many jobs, you can hide a little. You can stay behind your computer on a difficult day, delay a report, take a breath before responding. Not in sign language interpreting. Your work is live, visible, and immediate. The Deaf client knows instantly if they understood you. The hearing client sees everything. In video interpreting, you also see yourself the entire time, which adds a layer of self-scrutiny that in-person settings simply do not. Every perceived imperfection is amplified on screen. That level of exposure would challenge anyone's confidence.

4. Feedback is rare, and often harmful when it does arrive

One of the most frequently cited sources of impostor feelings in our community is feedback, or more precisely, the absence of good feedback. Many interpreters go months without any structured input on their work. When feedback does arrive, it sometimes sounds like "you should have..." or comes as implicit comparison from a colleague. That kind of comment is not useful. It is discouraging, and it is easily internalized as proof of inadequacy. Many interpreters are also held back by fear of what colleagues will think, which makes the silence even harder to break.

The Takeaway: Impostor Syndrome feels personal, but it’s about the profession, not you

Two hands holding matching puzzle pieces against a bright, glowing background.

Interpreters: Let’s Talk About It

If 84.7% of sign language interpreters have felt what you are feeling, then this is not evidence of your inadequacy. It is evidence of a profession navigating real complexity, real exposure, and real linguistic uncertainty, without nearly enough collective support.

Naming it matters. Talking about it openly, in professional spaces and among colleagues, is how the culture starts to shift.

So What Can You Do About Imposter Syndrome? 4 Strategies that Work

The good news is that impostor syndrome is not a permanent condition. It can be understood, managed, and gradually unlearned. Here are four strategies that actually work.

1. Name it for what it is

The first step is simply recognizing impostor syndrome as a feeling, not a fact. When you walk out of an assignment convinced you failed, pause and ask yourself: what is the actual evidence? What would I say to a colleague who described this exact same performance? The gap between how we judge ourselves and how we would judge others is almost always revealing. Start there. Name it out loud if you can, to yourself or to someone you trust. That alone takes away some of its power.

2. Separate structural uncertainty from personal failure

This one is specific to us, and it is probably the most liberating shift you can make. The next time you feel unsure about a sign choice, a register decision, or a domain you are stepping into for the first time, ask yourself honestly: is this about me, or about the fact that this language has no central norm, no official reference, and significant variation across every community I work in? Much of what we carry as private shame is actually the weight of systemic ambiguity. You did not create that uncertainty. You just work inside it every day.

3. Filter your feedback

Not all feedback deserves equal weight, and learning to tell the difference is one of the most valuable skills you can build, in this profession and beyond. Before internalizing any critical comment, run it through three simple questions inspired by Socrates: Is it true? Is it kind? Is it useful? If it fails all three, let it go. If it passes, treat it as a tool for growth, not as proof that you are a fraud. And if you are not receiving enough feedback to work with, consider asking for it directly. A trusted colleague, a mentor, or a professional supervisor can offer the kind of structured, honest input that most interpreters rarely get but deeply need.

4. Shift from soloist to collaborator

Impostor syndrome thrives in isolation. The belief that you should handle everything alone, that asking for support is a sign of weakness, makes everything harder. Interpreting is collaborative by nature, and leaning into that is not a crutch. It is how this profession sustains itself. Team interpreting, peer consultation, professional communities: these are not extras. They are the architecture of a healthy career. The field is full of generous, supportive colleagues. If you have not found yours yet, commit to being that colleague for someone else. That circle of support has to start somewhere.

You are Not Alone, and That Matters

You are capable of far more than your impostor voice wants you to believe. That is not a motivational slogan. That is what the research shows.

Does any of this resonate with your experience? I would love to read your thoughts in the comments.

Sources

• Best, B., Dickinson, J., & Henshaw, J. (2023). We are a never-ending work in progress. Newsli, vol. 123, pp. 18-22.
• Imposter syndrome in sign language interpreting