Braille is an Essential Part of My Life Because...

Braille is an Essential Part of My Life Because...

Future Reflections Winter 1996, Vol. 15 No. 1
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Braille is an Essential Part of My Life Because...
by Jana Schroeder
I was born with extremely limited vision to a family with no prior
experience of blindness. It was the early 1960's, and we lived near
Dayton, Ohio. Looking back, I recognize that I was lucky to have been
born in that place and time and into a sensible, loving family. Without
that fortunate combination of factors, my life might have been very
different.
My family did a lot of reading aloud. From my earliest days I
assumed that I would learn to read when I went to school, just as my
sighted brothers had.
I began my education in a public school that included a resource
room for blind students. These students were assigned to a regular
classroom where we spent most of our time, but we went to the resource
room for part of the day to learn the skills of blindness. I understand
that Dayton was one of the first cities in Ohio with a public school
program for blind children, beginning in the 1950's.
In the first grade, when reading lessons began in earnest, I was
encouraged to read print. Various magnifiers were tried, but the only
thing that worked for me was to put my nose against the paper and hope
the print was big and dark enough. This worked fine with first grade
primers. However, I quickly read all the big print picture books at the
local library. My mom and I soon discovered that in second- and
third-level books the print quickly diminished in size to the point
where I could not distinguish the letters.
My mother believed, like most sighted people (at least those who
are not blindness professionals), that blind people read Braille. So,
sensibly, she insisted that I be taught Braille. Fortunately the
resource room teachers agreed. I cannot be certain that it would be as
easy if I were in school today. I believe that very few blind students
in the Dayton area today are taught Braille.
I had heard my mom and other adults read quickly and fluently, and
I assumed that I would read like that myself. I was never told that
Braille was slower or harder than reading print. I simply accepted that
I was learning to read with my fingers while my sighted classmates
learned to read with their eyes.
One of the best things about the school I attended was that it had
a Braille library. Never since then have I had access to a library where
I could browse to my heart's content. I took home a different book
almost every night. My favorites were biographies and the Little House
series by Laura Ingalls Wilder. On the forty-five-minute drive to and
from school I would often read aloud to Mom. She endured a lot of
stumbling and mispronunciation with patience and good humor. From those
earliest days I received a lot of praise from my parents, grandparents,
and other people for my reading and writing ability. I knew that I read
as well as or better than most of my classmates, and this knowledge
helped lay a solid foundation of self-esteem that has served me well in
the years since, when faced with new challenges.
In the fifth grade a significant challenge came along in the form
of the slate and stylus. By this time I was attending school in my own
district with an itinerant teacher who came to work with me a couple of
times a week. She told me that I needed to learn to use the slate and
stylus because I would soon be going to junior high and I couldn't lug a
heavy, noisy Brailler with me from class to class.
I absolutely hated the slate. My e's and i's were inevitably
transposed, and I invariably put the paper in crooked. I pretty much
refused to practice, so my itinerant and classroom teachers got together
and decided that I would be required to take spelling tests using the
state and stylus. I always did well on my spelling tests, so I wasn't
very happy with this new development. Gradually, however, I didn't have
to reverse each letter consciously before writing it. My speed picked
up, and my diagonal lines became horizontal. Since then I have written
thousands of pages with the slate and stylus.
When I was in high school, closed circuit televisions began to
become affordable and popular. It was very exciting to be able to read
things that were only available in print, like the covers of my record
albums. I spent one whole summer reading a 500-page novel that I could
have read in about three days in Braille, because that was what all my
friends were reading.
I knew, however, that the CCTV was no substitute for Braille. I'm
almost glad that the CCTV was not available when I was in first grade
because I don't know if Braille would then have been emphasized in my
education. During my first two years in college my sight gradually
decreased to the light perception I have today. Although I had to make
some adjustments, already having well-developed Braille skills helped
immensely.
In high school nearly all of my textbooks, including advanced math
and French, were in Braille. In contrast, all of my college texts were
on tape. By this time, though, I was familiar with spelling,
punctuation, and the Braille literary and math codes. I took copious
notes while listening to the texts and studied these at exam time rather
than having to re-skim the entire book.
I have read that ninety-one percent of employed blind people know
Braille. I am not at all surprised by this statistic. I am only
surprised that so few educators and counselors of the blind seem to
recognize the importance of Braille to employment. I cannot imagine
being competitive without Braille.
Today I direct the Dayton criminal justice program of the American
Friends Service Committee, a Quaker organization. My activities range
from leading workshops and presentations in prison and the community to
advocating for criminal justice reform. I use Braille every day to keep
track of phone numbers, file away relevant statistics, make outlines for
talks, draft articles, and much more.
Like most non-profits, we have a very small staff in our office.
For the most part we do our own filing, typing, and minute-taking. My
independence is greatly enhanced by the use of a scanner and other
adaptive computer technology, but I don't think it would be possible for
me to do my job at all without Braille. At meetings, workshops, and
presentations I always have my slate and stylus ready. Although prison
officials sometimes worry that my stylus could be turned into a weapon,
I always have my Braille notes with me and have given several impromptu
Braille lessons to interested prisoners.
Since those early days Braille has opened many doors for me.
Reading is a source of great pleasure as well as information and
education. Braille writing allows me not only to keep track of personal
information but also to articulate and craft my thoughts into written
communication that can be shared with others. I cannot imagine my life
without Braille.
I am currently studying to become certified as a Braille
transcriber and proofreader. I am deeply concerned by the lack of
Braille skills among the blind today and the shortage of qualified
Braille teachers, both for blind children and for people who become
blind later in life. Perhaps someday I will have the opportunity to put
my love of Braille to good use by teaching others to read it.
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