Even I
Even I
The Braille Monitor
June,
2002
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Even I . . .
by
Tammy Luebbe
From
the Editor: Tammy Luebbe is a student at the adult orientation facility of the
Nebraska Commission for the Blind. She intended this article for a sighted audience,
and it does an excellent job of addressing many of the misconceptions members
of the general public have about blindness and blind people. The remarkable
thing about what she has written is that she has made so much progress in embracing
the attitudes and philosophy of the National Federation of the Blind in less
than a year. This is what she says:
What
do you think when you hear the word "blind"? If you are like most
of society, you think of blindness as total darkness, and the dictionary will
support that belief with its definition of "lack of discernment, lack of
sight." Actually blindness has a range of meanings from total absence of
sight to the inability to see distinct features. Blindness means that you must
use alternatives to sight to complete the activities of daily life. Legal blindness
is defined as vision of 20/200 or less or a central visual field of no more
than twenty degrees. When you hear of a blind person or see one, what is your
first reaction? Is it to think, "that poor, pitiful person"? Do you
immediately feel sorry for him or her? Do you have a compelling urge to help?
Why do most people react this way? Because most of us believe that a blind person
is helpless, certainly not as capable as a sighted person. I am going to tell
you my story, not to evoke or reinforce this notion, but, I hope, to shed some
light on the world of blindness.
My
story begins in December of 2000. I noticed that I had a blind spot in my vision,
obvious when watching TV. When I watched infomercials, I was unable to see the
1-800 part of the toll-free number. I went to my local optometrist and was referred
to a retinal specialist. I had a surgery that was supposed to resolve the problem,
but it was unsuccessful. At that point I had lost the vision in my left eye
but still had vision in my right eye. In May of 2001 I started developing the
same blind spot in my right eye. I received several injections of steroids and
then laser treatments to stop the progression of my disease. Not until June
of 2001 was I diagnosed with serpigenous choirditis, a rare disease whose etiology
is unknown, but it is believed to be an autoimmune response of the body in which
the retina is identified as foreign tissue and is attacked and destroyed.
Since
June of 2001 I have been blind. The length of time between my being able to
see and no longer being able to was two weeks. I went from being an active participant
in our lawn-care business and a totally independent mother of three with a career
in nursing to being totally dependent. In a matter of two weeks I went from
being able to do anything to being unable to complete the everyday tasks of
living. I was unable to turn my stove on, run the dishwasher, operate the microwave,
or even dial the phone. I spent six weeks isolated, withdrawn, and depressed.
I believed my life was over and that there was nothing left for me. I lost my
job, my insurance, and most of all my self-confidence. Fortunately for me I
was given the number of the Nebraska Commission for the Blind and Visually Impaired.
I
contacted them, and my whole world turned right side up again. I began their
adult rehabilitation program believing that I would never be whole again. My
hope at the beginning of this program was just to learn the necessary skills
to live. But they have given me much more. The Center's philosophy is growing
stronger in me every day. I believe in it so strongly now that I want everyone
around me to understand it. My mission has become to live by it and educate
others about it. This philosophy is based on the premise that blindness doesn't
have to be anything more than a personal characteristic. It is not a handicap,
but merely means that I use alternative methods to complete the same tasks that
sighted people do.
But
because I do not do everything like sighted people, they conclude and believe
that I am inferior to them. Sighted people laugh when I maintain that as a blind
person I am discriminated against. Most people believe that discrimination is
based on color, religion, or sex; but there are other kinds. As a blind person
every day I fight society's views of blindness and the limitations it places
on me. People I encounter every day--family, friends, instructors, and strangers
alike--demonstrate that they believe my blindness makes me inferior. This is
not intentional or done deliberately to make me feel bad, but it makes every
day a constant battle, trying to educate people and change society's view of
blindness.
I
want you to consider your own responses and try to evaluate them from both sides.
If you see a blind person walking towards a door, what is your first reaction?
Is it to step in front and open the door, or do you think nothing of it, letting
him or her locate and open the door independently? From personal experience
I will tell you that most people run as fast as they can to open the door. Why?
The typical response is, "to be helpful." But you have to look deeper
than that. If trying to be helpful were really your motive, wouldn't you run
to the door when a sighted person with one hand occupied was trying to open
it? Why is it so important or necessary to open that door for the blind person?
The answer is that most sighted people believe that blind people are incapable
of doing it for themselves.
Similar
acts of kindness such as helping blind people across streets, guiding them to
the bathroom, offering to tie their shoes, and many more such things happen
every day to blind people. This stereotyping of us as helpless is not limited
to the general public; even a number of professionals believe blindness renders
one incapable of performing the simplest task. I have had a doctor tell the
nurse to come in to help me get dressed after an examination. I wondered if
he thought my mother still lived with me or if I had a live-in nanny to get
me dressed in the morning. I recently had an ophthalmologist tell me in so many
words that I was incapable of administering my own medications because I was
blind.
I
have also recently encountered a teaching professional prepared to deny my entrance
into a degree-completion program because I could not see. She concluded that
I would be unable to complete the observation portion of the program. I questioned
this instructor, pointing out that a sighted person might see something, but
without the knowledge and intelligence to understand and interpret what was
observed, the exercise would be worthless. On the other hand, the situation
being observed could be described to someone with experience, knowledge, and
intelligence; and that person could explain and assess it effectively. Observation
is not just seeing; it is listening, asking questions, and understanding what
is going on around you.
These
illustrations do not demonstrate that I am incapable, rather that society inaccurately
assumes that blindness makes me inferior. And it isn't only the efforts to help
me but the intended compliments that have underlying and disturbing meanings.
Here are a few of my favorites: "You can do that without being able to
see! Even I can't do that, and I can see"; or "You are just amazing";
and my all-time favorite, "You do so well I forget you are blind."
Is it amazing that a sighted person gets dressed, cooks, takes care of her kids,
or crosses the street? No, it isn't.
With
proper skills training, blind people learn to accomplish everyday tasks using
alternative techniques. Blind people are able to read Braille and use voice-output
computers and other technologies to read.
We
use the cane to examine what is in front of us: obstacles, cracks in the sidewalk,
stairs, curbs, and people. As I walk with my cane, I am amazed at the way this
white cane can part people and cars. Someday I am sure it will part the waters
also. As a blind person I use different senses to observe what is in my environment.
I can't see you walking toward me, but I can hear footsteps, clothing moving,
conversation, car motors, etc. I know when someone is beside me, coming toward
me, or walking away. I don't have a special talent or extraordinary hearing;
everyone has this ability, sighted people are just not forced to use it. The
cane touches objects to let me know that they are there. If my cane comes into
contact with something, this is not a mistake but necessary for me to avoid
walking into it. People around me will say "oops" if I hit an obstacle
or wall with the cane. But this is supposed to happen in order for me not to
hit it.
There
are so many alternatives to use to complete everyday tasks that I don't have
enough paper to write them all down. My point here is that my alternatives don't
make me inferior or incapable of completing tasks. Especially in the beginning,
it may take me longer than it would a sighted person, but every time people
step in to prevent me or another blind person from doing things for ourselves,
they rob us of the opportunity to learn and develop alternatives to accomplish
these everyday tasks.
Earlier
I mentioned my philosophy of blindness as a characteristic. I don't want you
to think that I thought of this all by myself, for I did not. This concept has
been around since at least the 1960's. I first heard it in a speech by Dr. Kenneth
Jernigan, then President of the National Federation of the Blind. The philosophy
is practiced by the staff at the Nebraska Commission for the Blind. But it makes
so much sense that I want to share it with you.
Again,
it is the notion that blindness can be reduced to the level of a characteristic
rather than a handicap. Any personal characteristic has advantages and disadvantages.
Let's take the characteristic of height, for example. If a person is tall, over
six feet, six inches, this can limit what he or she can do. How can height be
a limitation? My husband is this tall, and I can tell you that he doesn't fit
into compact cars like Yugos, Rabbits, or Bugs. He hits his head on ceiling
fans, door frames, light fixtures, and low-hanging branches. He has a hard time
finding clothes and shoes at a regular store. He doesn't fit into roller coasters,
buses, or regular beds with footboards (he must either lie diagonally or curl
up). He can use alternatives to get around all of these obstacles, so his height
really doesn't affect his total quality of life. He ducks under fans and light
fixtures, bends his head under door frames, buys beds that do not have footboards,
and buys large cars. These are all alternatives that he must use in order to
conduct his everyday life.
With
the characteristic of blindness, I must learn Braille to read, use computers
with voice output, learn keystroke commands instead of using a computer mouse,
and use the cane to move safely around my environment. These alternatives make
my life every bit as good as those of sighted people. No one asks my extraordinarily
tall husband if he needs help crossing the street, finding the bathroom, or
opening the door. You are probably thinking, "Yes, but these characteristics
are totally different in the quality of their limitations." But they are
not. Each characteristic has its advantages and disadvantages, and all of us,
regardless of our characteristics, adapt to our specific limitations and advantages
and move on with our lives.
I
hope that my story has not evoked a feeling of sympathy or pity, for I do not
need it. I hope it has made you stop and think about how a simple well-intentioned
gesture or comment has a much deeper meaning that you don't even realize. My
hope is that I have shed a little light on blindness and society's perceptions,
and maybe a little insight on how society responds to something different from
what is perceived as the norm. The next time you see a blind person, I hope
that your automatic response is not that he or she is incapable of being independent.
Try to resist the urge to impose your help without asking. I hope you can come
to see blind people as equals and respect their independence and ability. If
they ask for help, please give it, but don't assume that they need it. Consider
whether you would help if they were not blind. If not, don't go out of your
way to help the blind person either.
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