Blind Girl Fills Life

Blind Girl Fills Life

Amanda Jones reading Braille

Blind Girl Fills Life with Art, Song, and Books

by Russell Dean Newman

From the Editor: Amanda Jones and her twin April

have attended NFB conventions for half their lives. Their grandmother, Pat Jones, is

active in the National Organization of Parents of Blind Children, and the girls have

clearly benefitted from their exposure to NFB philosophy and from their friendships with

many competent blind adults. The following story appeared in the November 22, 1998,

edition of the Chattanooga Free Press. Here it is:

She likes to rollerblade and ride her

eighteen-speed bike— especially fast. She plays the clarinet. She sings in the

Chattanooga Girls Choir. She has a boyfriend she doesn't like to talk about. Her favorite

subject is reading. And she's been blind since birth.

Twelve-year-old Amanda Jones is in the seventh

grade at Ooltewah Middle School. She and her twin sister April moved to Chattanooga to

live with their grandparents six years ago. Amanda recently won an award for her essay and

artwork on the subject of "My Family Is Great." She wrote the essay on her

Braille writer and used colored and flexible thin wax sticks for her bas-relief artwork.

Amanda relies on her imagination to form an image

of what she feels, hears, and creates, whether she's working with her wax sticks or her

messy pottery wheel. "I know what a person looks like," she said, "but I

don't try to imagine colors."

Although she was excited about winning the

contest, Amanda thought it was just another language arts assignment.

"I didn't even know it was a contest until I

got a letter," she said. "I did my family roasting marshmallows at a campfire

and used the wax sticks because I could tell what I did." She speaks with lucid and

precise words through smiles that fill her entire face. "[My family] roasts

marshmallows up in Wisconsin," she said, "and I thought that would be a neat

thing to [show]."

Amanda has straight blonde hair which touches her

shoulders.

Her eyes roll involuntarily, revealing elusive

blue irises. Her winning artwork, which hangs in the Family and Children's Services (FCS)

building on Eighth Street, shows an alluring arrangement of color. The center of the

artwork shows a red and yellow fire which roasts marshmallows stuck on bright blue sticks.

A green stick figure in each corner of the relief holds a stick, and the two lower figures

rest on blue chairs.

She'll tell you there is nothing she's prevented

from doing because of her blindness. And it's not a special ability that allows her to do

everything. "It's because I want to," she said.

She likes to read "any kind of book except

biographies, because they're boring." Amanda began learning Braille in the first

grade, and, like everything else, "it's easy when you get used to it."

A black and white Cocker Spaniel named Lady works

her way into Amanda's lap. The seeing fingers feel their way down the dog's back. "I

read R.L. Stine (Goosebumps) books and Grace Livingston Hill," she said as she

manipulated Lady's metallic orange tag with the fingers of her right hand.

The first time you see a Braille book can be an

eye-opener. The books are not books. They are extra-large three-ring binders thick with

taupe bump-filled sheets. Amanda needs both hands to carry this version of an R.L. Stine

book from the living room to the dining room. She walks toward the eight-inch vertical

transition between the two rooms and steps up like she had the benefit of sight.

Ask her how she knows just when to step up, and

she'll say:

"I'm not stupid."

She drops the binder on the table and opens the

large cover.

"I just know where I am," she added.

She turns several pages and skims the bumps with both hands; her fingers flow up and down

softly like she's pressing piano keys without producing sound. She reads aloud with

eloquence. The more time spent with Amanda, the less difference there seems between her

and any other twelve-year-old.

"You have to order these or ask for them

from a library in Nashville," she said, after finishing a sentence. "There're

not enough books in Braille"—a dilemma when reading is your favorite school

subject and hobby.

As for her future, Amanda looks forward to a

London and Paris trip with the Girls Choir and has "some things in mind" for a

career. She's considering teaching either home economics or art. Then again, she might

just be a lawyer.

Amanda does have something to say about being

blind. "There's no difference in [being blind] and being sighted," she said as

she scratched the underside of the table, "except you have to make some adaptations.

And everything is easy once you get used to it."

Her persistent optimism remained even after more

than an hour of talking, and she offered some logical ideas about editing. "Try to

put [this story] on the front page," she said, smiling, "unless the editors have

something else important; then tell them don't worry about it."

The contest sponsored by FCS coincides with

November's National Family Week. Contestants range from grades one to seven. At an awards

ceremony held at the Read House recently, Amanda received the winner's certificate, which

had been overtyped in Braille. Cornerstone Bank opened a savings account in her name and

donated her first deposit of $75. Cassy Sebastian, Amanda's language arts teacher,

received a $100 gift certificate donated by Chattanooga Office Supply to be used for

classroom supplies.