by Maura Loberg
From the Editor: Maura Loberg is the president of the Nebraska Association of Blind Students. She is currently a student at the Colorado Center for the Blind and is very close to graduation. She will begin class in the fall at Nebraska Wesleyan University, where she will be pursuing a double major in psychology and English. Lately, she has been spending her unprecedented free time baking, going on walks, listening to music and, what most benefits us, writing. Here is a speech she did in October at the NFB of Nebraska State Convention discussing her trip to and participation in the National Federation of the Blind Engineering Quotient (NFB EQ) program:
The revolving door opens, and the sounds of airport traffic fill my ears. Dozens of people line up for the noisy TSA machines, while others amble to the food court to grab their morning coffee. The rush makes my aunt visibly nervous as we walk toward the empty ticket counter.
Before I have time to load my behemoth of a suitcase onto the conveyor belt, I hear familiar voices saying my name. I say a brief goodbye to my aunt before I head over toward the comforting voices of another Nebraska friend’s family. As we all check in together, we run across the other two friends heading to the program; by the time we head to the gate, we resemble a small tribe.
Even with such great company, however, I still don't expect much from the program. For context, I had been to many similar science programs before (for both blind and sighted youth), and many of them were full of cranky teenagers and scatterbrained instructors who rushed through experiments like wildfire. I assumed NFB EQ would be quite similar, but, luckily, I was mistaken.
My three friends and I flew into BWI after a long layover, and we were met with anticipation and excitement from the NFB staff right when we landed at the gate. As soon as we got to the Jernigan Institute, I immediately heard familiar voices, music, and the unmistakable swipe of canes. I ran into several old friends in the Harbor Room, and, after several pieces of pizza and an unexpected conversation with an engineering professor, my hopes for the week were lifted.
NFB EQ was about re-imagining blindness in STEM fields, taking on the unknown, and, well, building stuff. And build stuff, we did. The first full day of NFB EQ we were told to build a rough model of the structure we were hoping to showcase at the end of the week. We were given no major rules; we needed to put our creative juices to work. Needless to say, I had a lot of fun throwing around ideas (and pieces of cardboard), for it set the tone for the days ahead.
Tuesday brought several tutorials on drawing with different dimensional views, cutting with handsaws, and using different measuring and organizational techniques. What amazed me was that there truly were no tasks we couldn't do: raised-line drawings were completed with sensational rubber blackboards, Braille rulers and straight-edges were readily at hand, and handsaws were distributed without fear for the students' safety. With these alternative techniques and tools, we were asked to start mapping out our structures, knowing that any kind of model we wanted to build for the exhibition was truly in our grasp.
Wednesday saw us take a tour of a post and beam facility, where we got up close and personal with a wooden bridge and climbed on stepladders into the rafters of an adjacent building constructed nearly a century ago. This gave us an idea of how to best support our structures. We also learned more than we thought was possible about load and calculation methods that engineers use in their everyday occupations. We were asked to put together towers in teams and had to see which ones would hold the most weight based on these calculations.
Thursday was a chaotic mess of events happening at once. We had to bear down and get our projects ready for the exhibition on Friday. The NFB Jernigan Institute's Members Hall was bustling with noise. The scratch of pens drawing detailed plans from the top, front, and right views; the cutting and hot-gluing of balsam wood in extremely specific measurements; and frantic whispers of the mathematical formulas behind our individual structure, which we had to write out and explain to the audience. I spent a lot of time that day cutting out the pieces of my design, which was called a Netflix room and was shaped like a hexagon.
Friday's exhibition got me in contact with some of the most important members of the NFB, and all the presentations were fascinating. I saw everything from simple square and rectangular creations to a nineteen-gon, which is exactly what it sounds like. It showed me just how creative and innovative we can be with the right tools and alternative techniques.
Luckily for us, we weren't just using our newfound vigor and overly caffeinated brains for all work and no play during the week. The staff of NFB EQ was extremely energetic and motivated, and they pushed us to explore the wonders of Baltimore and the potential we had to travel in diverse places. We went swimming in the lake, explored several areas downtown, and had a taco picnic at a nearby park, where we were free to go wherever we wanted. I ended up on the swings for three hours that night (I'm a child at heart.) We also played extreme games of accessible UNO and Apples to Apples while socializing with friends in the iconic Harbor Room. These fun experiences reminded me that, above the blindness and additional challenges, we were all just teenagers who wanted to have fun with our friends, and NFB EQ made that happen.
After all was said and done, I found myself flying to Omaha with a revitalized belief that I could truly achieve my dreams and do anything I set my mind to. I'd like to thank the Nebraska affiliate for its continuous support, as well as the entire National Federation of the Blind. I can no longer participate in these specialized STEM events now that I have graduated from high school, but I will keep the memories I made for years to come. The organization has done a truly remarkable job showing me I can live the life I want and that my blindness is not the characteristic that solely defines me or my future. I hope that these essential programs continue taking place. Even though I will not be pursuing a career in science, technology, engineering, or math, I hope that those who go down that career path can use these experiences to launch into new and exciting opportunities for themselves. So thank you, Federation family, for constantly inspiring me to think better, dream bigger, and live the life I want.