A Dream Come True

A Dream Come True

Vicky Chapman

From Discrimination to a Dream Come True

by Vicky Chapman

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From the Editor: The following article first appeared in the

Spring, 1999, edition of the NFB Vigilant, a publication of the

NFB of Virginia.

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A timid seven-year-old slowly walked into a small dance

studio which appeared very large to the little girl. The child

was in awe at how large the room was, and she wondered who the

other little girl was who faced her and copied all her movements.

She could see shapes, figures, and colors. She could not see

faces or recognize expressions. Watching the dance instructor,

the little girl tried to mimic her steps. Realizing that the

child wasn't following her movements, the teacher provided oral

instructions to guide the child's feet through the shuffle-toe-

heel dance steps.

After three years of tap dancing classes, the little girl

recognized her love for music and asked her parents if she could

take piano lessons. She had seen Rodgers and Hammerstein musicals

put on by the local high school and had dreams of singing and

dancing on stage. Musical training was a must for performing in

musicals. Although her parents realized the extent of her

blindness, they did not want it to discourage their daughter from

doing what she wanted to do. They bought a piano; then they began

an extensive search for a piano teacher. The search became a

drudgery after three piano teachers refused to instruct the

little girl. The mother finally took the child to one of the best

piano teachers in the small town of Hartsville. Miss Salleby, the

piano teacher, asked the child to sit on the bench in front of

the piano. The room was dark, and a small light shone over the

sheet music.

Fearful of the dark room, the child slowly walked over to

the piano bench, sat down, and faced the sheet music. Miss

Salleby asked the child how many lines and spaces were in one

row. Leaning over the piano keys, with her nose touching the

sheet music, the child attempted to count the lines and spaces.

Immediately, before the child could announce her findings, the

teacher turned to the child's mother and announced, "I can't

teach a blind child how to play the piano."

The child wanted to scream, "I am not blind. Just give me a

chance to learn how to play by ear." Without knowing how she got

out of the woman's house, the child was in her mother's car

riding home. There was a big lump in her throat, and the child

wanted to cry. She wanted to be held in her mother's arms and be

comforted. She wanted to know that she would be given another

chance for her dream to come true.

That event was never again mentioned in front of the child,

and the word "blind" was never again used in front of her until

she reached college. The child would not touch the piano when her

parents were home. She would sneak into the living room and teach

herself hymns, first playing the melody line and then trying to

play the chords with her left hand. If a member of the family

caught her trying to play, she would shut the piano lid and go to

her room.

Looking back through the images of my childhood memories, I

still find myself a bit tearful. There are so many types of

discrimination in this world, but I do believe that denying a

child the opportunity to learn and expand on her talents is a

travesty. "Where there is a will, there is a way," is a true

statement that applies to my life.

Considering the stumbling blocks I have encountered with my

music avocation, it is hard to believe that I am a part of the

Roanoke Opera Chorus. Throughout my high school and college

careers, I participated in the concert chorus. Listening and

reviewing recordings from rehearsals was the way I memorized

music. Instructors discouraged me from trying out for musical

roles from a fear that I would have difficulty moving around on

stage.

While in college I attempted a degree in music therapy. I

was not allowed to use a reader for theory classes, and the

instructor refused to read aloud what he had written on the

board. Although I was passing my music therapy classes, I found

myself exhausted from fighting with instructors and trying to

obtain the assistance I needed in order to learn. I was taking

voice and piano instruction, and the piano teacher would enlarge

my music. Finally, when a theory instructor assigned a fugue to

be analyzed using a graph, the difficulty I would have completing

the assignment on my own became obvious. When confronting the

instructor with my dilemma, he immediately informed me that the

task had to be completed independently, with no assistance. The

instructor clearly stated that if the assignment could not be

completed on my own, I had no business in a music program. I

dropped out of the program and completed my degree in early

childhood education.

For several years I tried to run away from music. After

completing my bachelor's degree, the prospect of facing the world

of work haunted me. Denial of my blindness resulted in fear about

how to perform the duties of a job.

Realizing my problem, my best friend encouraged me to move

to Nebraska to attend the Nebraska Center for the Visually

Impaired. Taking on the challenge, I attended the Nebraska

Rehabilitation Center. I wore sleep shades from eight to five,

five days a week; and I was told that I must use, not just take,

the long white cane everywhere I went during training. One of the

most difficult tasks for me was facing my fear of blindness. I

had to talk about my fears, frustrations, and dreams. One of the

instructors constantly reminded me that I should be on stage

singing and acting. Performing was difficult for me to approach

because I was convinced this was a dream that would never come

true. Through the excellent training I received at the Nebraska

Orientation Center, I gained confidence and belief in my

abilities as a blind person. I was no longer ashamed of my

blindness. It was time for me to apply the skills I had learned

to my life.

Professionally, my life blossomed in the field of

rehabilitation. As a recipient of various grants and scholarships

I was able to earn a master's degree in rehabilitation counseling

from Michigan State University. I tried continually to move away

from music but was constantly encouraged by friends to sing in

various church choirs. My dream continued to haunt me, and I

found it difficult to hold my tears back when attending a

performance. It wasn't fair; I wanted to be one of the performers

on stage. Testing the waters, I slowly began participating in

church choirs and even sang one semester with the Michigan State

concert choir. That vessel that had been empty for so long

finally started to be filled.

After moving to Anchorage, Alaska, I joined the community

chorus, one hundred and sixty voices strong. Despite being the

type of person who is neither religious nor superstitious, I have

to admit that I do believe that an angel came into my life by the

name of Kathy. Kathy lived in my neighborhood and gave me rides

home from choral rehearsal. After hearing me sing, Kathy

encouraged and nudged me to become more active in music. The

Anchorage Community Theater was having a call for people to try

out for The Sound of Music. Kathy talked to the director and had

a couple of pages enlarged that I would have to read for tryout.

Naturally, I memorized the two pages, prepared a song, held my

breath, and showed up for tryouts. To my surprise, I was offered

and accepted the role of Sister Sophia. Interesting note: when I

was a little girl, my grandmother would ask me what I wanted to

be when I grew up. Smiling and very serious, I would reply, a

nun. The director was not concerned about my blindness but was

concerned that I would be off crutches by the time of the

performances. While I had been skiing, an unfortunate accident

had left me with a torn anterior cruciate ligament.

One could say that my dream came true. After the completion

of the musical, the chorus director of the Anchorage Opera

Company encouraged me to try out for a part in the chorus. Again,

mustering up my courage, I dusted off some old voice

instructional books and auditioned. Now, looking back, it is hard

to decide which was most difficult: auditioning in front of a New

York director or performing on a sloped stage which was very

slippery. La Traviata was my first opera. I never dreamed of

being dressed in such elegant costumes and performing on such a

grand stage.

When I moved to Roanoke, Virginia, finally I knew in which

community activities I wanted to participate. Within my first

month of moving to the Star City I auditioned for the Roanoke

Symphony Chorus. Seven months later I was standing in a gym at

the Jefferson Center auditioning for a part with the Roanoke

Opera Chorus. Again I was shaking as I walked toward the piano,

proudly using my cane. I turned and faced the director, Craig

Fields, and nodded to my accompanist to begin. When I had sung

the last note, I waited anxiously for a response. It felt as if I

were waiting an eternity. Finally I mustered the courage to

inquire about Mr. Field's opinion of my audition. To my relief

the director informed me that I was in the chorus. My heart

soared, and immediately I realized that Mr. Fields had not asked

me any questions concerning how I would learn my music or move

around on stage. Again curiosity got the better of me, and I

asked Mr. Fields if he had any questions about my blindness. His

response was "no." To my relief, Craig informed me that he had

worked with several blind people over the years as a vocal

instructor and choral director.

As of now I have performed in four operas with the Roanoke

Opera. The chorus members are like a small family. We work

together to help each other learn parts, act, and move around on

stage. My fellow chorus members know that I will ask for help

when I need it and are more than willing to assist me. Craig has

indicated that he is amazed at the way I move around on stage. I

have to admit that I have failed to tell him how many times I

have run into props back stage. Seriously, my tenacity on stage

comes from my desire and belief in myself and Craig's belief in

my abilities. Yes, there are times when I am afraid that I may

miss a movement or a musical cue, or sing the wrong note. These

are fears that any actor has and mistakes that any actor can

make.

I may never be on Broadway, but that doesn't matter.

Remember that my dream was to be on stage and perform. That dream

has come true. It has been a struggle, but hopefully one that

will pave the way for others who are blind. Everywhere we go we

are setting examples that others can observe, learn from, and

follow. When we are willing to follow our dreams, discrimination

can result in a dream come true.

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