Can We Change the World?

by Jo Elizabeth Pinto

From the Editor: This article is taken from the April issue of the Blind Coloradan, the publication of the National Federation of the Blind of Colorado. How realistic is it for us to want to change the world? Here is our author’s take. Here is the way the article was introduced by Kevan Worley:

From the aggregator: Readers of this blog are probably familiar with author Jo Elizabeth Pinto. She is a frequent contributor. We have also enjoyed her poetry at NFBCO state convention banquets. Here is what she offers up for this Blind Coloradan.

Sometimes I get frustrated because the world isn’t changing fast enough. It angers and saddens me when prejudice and ignorance happen, especially in front of impressionable young people.

I need to get blood drawn regularly because of my autoimmune issues. During one of my visits to the local hospital, the woman who checked me into the lab was nearly young enough to be my daughter. During her long list of routine questions, she inquired about my insurance. I told her I have Medicare.

She saw the guide dog sitting placidly beside me and asked, "You're disabled, right?"

I affirmed that I'm blind.

She said, "So you don't work."

Irritated, I started to ask her what my disability had to do with not working. But before I got my mouth open, my teenage daughter spoke up. "My mom edits books."

The woman turned to my kid and asked, "She edits books? But she does it for free, doesn't she?"

"Why would my mom work for free?" My daughter laughed in that condescending way only a teenager can. "No one does that."

"Oh ... um ... she's disabled, and she works for money?" the woman stammered.

"Sure she does. Lots of disabled people work for money," my daughter replied as if the woman had just sprouted an extra head.

"I'm self-employed," I broke in. "I draw Social Security Disability and freelance as a Braille proofreader. Let's move on with the relevant questions, please."

This is the New Millennium, people. Our kids understand equality as naturally as breathing when they grow up with it, but we're still explaining the basics to professionals.

Thirty years ago, I thought we could change the world in sweeping waves. These days, I'm older and wiser, and I’ve learned that change comes one hard-won inch at a time. When I speak up for myself at the hospital, or when my daughter laughs because an uninformed lab tech suggests I must work for free because I’m blind, that’s an inch. When members of the NFB gather at the Capitol to speak to their elected officials or demand textured pavers on the Sixteenth Street Mall, that’s an inch.

The answer is yes. We can change the world, inch by precious inch!