Red, White, and Blind: Your Way, If Not My Way, Toward Serving
by Kyle Ryan Kiper
From the Editor: At last, here is an article about the ways we can serve a country that for too long has said no thanks, no place for you, no way for you to help in jobs that add to our defense and help save lives. Though this is what we were told when we asked, it seems there were and are alternatives. Here is the story of Kyle Ryan Kiper, a man who lives in Texas, and who has found ways to serve his country and offers us his story and some recommended alternatives.
During my two decades as a vocational rehabilitation counselor, I have always been heartened by the eagerness of people who are blind or live with other disabilities to do their part, often including a very strong wish to serve their country as a member of the military or as a first responder. We are Americans, and just like that 1 percent who serve in uniform, we match that statistic in desire and in a goal to remove barriers and improve these vital institutions. Most likely, we are even more motivated because someone with low expectations and a lack of scope has told us we cannot do it. Per my observation, this enthusiasm to join crosses all age and impairment demographics, whether physical, sensory, psychological, developmental, intellectual, or, most often, a combination of some or all of the above. More times than I can count, after my first adult decade pops up in conversation or someone sees my memorabilia in my office, I have been told by my clients, "You are so lucky to have been able to do that." I agree, but most of them have opportunities too, for there is a way for them to do their bit as well. But they should follow my advice, and not my example.
When I was about eight years of age, I watched, for the first of a thousand times, the John Wayne Classic, Sands of Iwo Jima. Right then and there, I determined to become a United States Marine. Because I lost my father at an early age, my mother signed me up for the Big Brother program. I was matched with a US Army Ranger Mustang Second Lieutenant. For most of the next ten years, he prepared, educated, and trained me to be successful in the military, in spite of his humorous competitive disgust at my Marine Corps aspirations. But my dreams were shattered when the Navy physician unilaterally disqualified me from all branches due to my family ophthalmologist's notation of a diagnosis of Retinitis Pigmentosa in my chart.
The ensuing months were not good. I became depressed and got in trouble with the law. My family saved me, both from jail and my dilemma. My sister introduced me to the American Red Cross, where I quickly dove in head first, becoming certified in CPR and first aid, then moving up to becoming an instructor and later an instructor trainer. Part of my volunteer and later paid Red Cross service was as a first aid team member and leader. That is when I rubbed elbows with county emergency medical technicians, which set my course for the next decade.
The Lord works in mysterious ways. Before Sergeant Slaughter stormed the beaches of Iwo Jima, I had been enthralled with paramedics John Gage and Roy Desoto on the television show Emergency, so my life adjusted to an earlier setting.
After completing three levels of emergency medical services qualifications and becoming nationally registered, attending the state fire academy, accumulating hundreds of hours in specialized training, and becoming certified as one of the first air-medical communications specialists in America, I was able to work as a metropolitan EMS paramedic, county fire-rescue medic and safety captain, and ultimately as an EMT team member on an elite helicopter unit at Arkansas Children's Hospital. The Defense Department checked a recruit's vision, but lucky for me back then, the Fire and Emergency Medical Services did not. So, even though classified as legally blind, I managed to squeak through.
How did I manage to disguise my failing vision? It was not easy, and looking back, not smart. My first field training officer shared his trick, after a prior twenty-three years in Air Force crash rescue: it was to always carry a clipboard, so everyone thinks you are inspecting them. I also allowed my colleagues to believe that I was the world's most prolific collector of flashlights, as I had them on headbands, mounted on my fire helmet, and at least three or four in my medic kits and pockets.
In addition, I determined that if I was promoted faster than anyone else, stayed one of the most qualified medics, and remained the youngest fire captain anyone remembered, I could always be in charge and never get into a situation where my retinas were a problem. One of my better work-arounds was taking the opportunity to fill the slot of being the safety captain for my department. This is the officer who stands off to the side and makes sure everyone comes out alive. So, I held the rank that benefitted me in other settings, but I was able to oversee rather than be on the search or hose teams. Later in my career, when peripheral and night vision were all but gone, I found that working as an emergency medical helicopter communications specialist was a good fit for me, so I was able to complete my decade at minimal risk to anyone.
As I alluded to above, I don't recommend my path, because it was not the smartest or most transparent way; in fact, it was potentially dangerous. But, I am older and wiser now, and I know of ways in which my blind family and others with disabilities may engage that need to serve.
The first option has already been covered, becoming a volunteer at the local American Red Cross Chapter. There are multiple ways to volunteer in safety, health, disaster, blood, or volunteer services. I worked multiple natural disasters, military support, family fire in support of the fire department, first aid stations, on mobile blood stations, and even teaching lawn mower safety to kids wanting to work over the summer. Of course, you can become certified in CPR and basic life support and become an instructor, by extension saving many lives as your students go out and apply their knowledge.
Another very valuable way to serve is on your local or county volunteer fire department, where every fire chief is looking for manpower. Even if you are not able to serve on a hose, ladder, or rescue company—although I know of at least one totally blind firefighter who serves on his department's pumper—you can still be an important part of the unit, working in department or station administration, communications, or just helping out around the fire house. Likewise, city dwellers should research the many support job titles in the local paid first responder agencies, where you can prepare for, apply, interview, and work alongside the front-line personnel in office work, supply and logistics, communications, maintenance, etc.
For those who are young, joining an Explorer Scout post may be a very rewarding way to serve, working alongside first responders in the community. All citizens may request to do a "ride along" with police, fire, and ambulances, therefore making connections with managers and command officers and possibly opening up career doors with agencies who have not successfully recruited employees with disabilities.
Then there are the two big military auxiliary options: the US Air Force Civil Air Patrol and the US Coast Guard Auxiliary. Both are 100 percent civilian volunteer managed and staffed, without regard to any physical requirements. But you still work under their Defense and Homeland Security Department Branches. These squadrons and flotillas are located throughout the country—near most airports, lakes, rivers, and coastal ports—and are always eager to bring in new uniform volunteers. A simple Google search of USAF CAP or USCG Auxiliary in your local area, or research on their national websites will provide plenty of exciting information.
The rehab counselor in me would be remiss if I did not suggest state and federal civilian service, which is key in providing services we can fill. Examples include working as a Defense Department civilian employee, working on the staff of FEMA, the NTSB, the FBI, or similar state agencies. You may be a candidate for a position I now hold at the US Department of Veterans Affairs, serving those who put their lives out there for all of us.
My clients and friends are correct: I am very lucky, actually humbly honored, to have done my duty, although, if I had it to do all over again with my current knowledge, I would follow the advice in this article and not my story of "fake it until I break it." Many of my peers are now fire chiefs and emergency medical commanders. They are aware that I never told them about my sight loss, but most still do not know that I also was completely deaf in one ear during that decade. They did not check hearing back then either, but I probably broke the intent of their rules by taking advantage of a loophole; they examine everything now.
A satisfying outcome of sharing this article for me would be that each member of my blind and extended disability family who feels that inner need to be in the service of their nation and community finds that pathway and lives out their lives, proud to have done their part in making America a better place. In every course I taught, I told every graduating student as I looked them in the eyes and handed them their certificate, "Just do something!"