_______________________________________________________________________________
Vol. 67, No. 5 May 2024
Gary Wunder, Editor
Distributed by email, in inkprint, in Braille, and on USB flash drive, by the
National Federation of the Blind
Mark Riccobono, President
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THE NATIONAL FEDERATION OF THE BLIND KNOWS THAT BLINDNESS IS NOT THE CHARACTERISTIC THAT DEFINES YOU OR YOUR FUTURE. EVERY DAY WE RAISE THE EXPECTATIONS OF BLIND PEOPLE, BECAUSE LOW EXPECTATIONS CREATE OBSTACLES BETWEEN BLIND PEOPLE AND OUR DREAMS. YOU CAN LIVE THE LIFE YOU WANT; BLINDNESS IS NOT WHAT HOLDS YOU BACK. THE NATIONAL FEDERATION OF THE BLIND IS NOT AN ORGANIZATION SPEAKING FOR THE BLIND--IT IS THE BLIND SPEAKING FOR OURSELVES.
ISSN 0006-8829
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Vol. 67, No. 5 May 2024
Convention Bulletin 2024
Perhaps Corrections Should be a Regular Column
by Gary Wunder
Fostering Inclusion: Blindness Doesn't Define Us
by Cricket Bidleman and Karen Smith
It's More About the Fellowship than the Food
by Eileen Rivera Ley
Talk, Text, and Train the Trainers
by Jane Hager
On Becoming a Commercial Realtor: A Blind Person's Pathway out of Poverty and Penury
by Charles Innes
Tidbits, Quotations, and Words to Live by
by Gary Wunder
Dream Big: Give $25 Drive
by Rachel Held
Giving Time to NFB Changes Lives
by Shelley Keeland
Simple Accessibility Solutions
by Dan Tevelde
Seniors Making a Difference
by Glenn Crosby
We Need Your Help
A New Definition of Disability: Embracing Our Shared Humanity and Redefining How We Perceive Abilities and Differences
by Michael Hingson
The Rest of Reality: An Address Delivered by Marc Maurer
An Exciting New Product for the Blind: A New Company with Very Familiar People. Meet the BT Speak Pocket Computer from Blazie Technologies
by David Goldfield
Greater Expectations
by David Houck
Monitor Miniatures
Copyright 2024 by the National Federation of the Blind
Believe, Dream, Include, Lead, Champion. Join us for the biggest event of the year, 2024 National Convention of the National Federation of the Blind. Find important details in this bulletin.
Wednesday, July 3 through Monday, July 8, 2024
Orlando, Florida at the Rosen Centre
Start planning your trip now. If this will be your first convention or if you need a refresh, access our First Timer’s Guide (https://nfb.org/get-involved/national-convention/first-timers-guide).
For 2024 convention room reservations, please call the hotel at (800) 204-7234. Ask for the “NFB Convention” block. Here are important things to know about the rates and booking the room:
Our 2024 convention room rate for singles and doubles is $129. Room rate for triples and quads is $139.
If a reservation is cancelled before Saturday, June 1, 2024, half of the deposit will be returned. Otherwise, refunds will not be made.
Registration for convention opens in March. Registration will be $25 per person plus $75 per banquet ticket. Register early because prices go up if you register onsite in Orlando. Registration includes the biggest event of the year, access to the event app, and communications on the latest news and events.
The following are important dates to know as you prepare to attend convention.
The full agenda will be available in June.
Door prizes are submitted from state affiliates, local chapters, and individuals. Prizes should be small in size but large in value, at least $25. Cash is always appropriate and welcome. Please do not include alcohol. Drawings will occur throughout the convention sessions with a grand prize of truly impressive proportions drawn at the banquet. If you have a prize that must be shipped in advance of the convention, please email affiliate President Paul Martinez at [email protected] to make arrangements.
Over 200 sessions and meetings happen during convention. If you are a leader in a division, committee, or group who will meet at convention, please don’t wait to organize. Start planning your agenda, goals, and connections now. Stay tuned for details from the Convention Chair, John Berggren.
Thank you to the hundreds of volunteers who help make national convention a big success. If you are interested in learning more about how to get involved, please connect with your state affiliate president. Additionally, register early to get access to all volunteer opportunities.
by Gary Wunder
I regret that in our April issue we misspelled Matt Ater’s last name. In the same article we misspelled Everette Bacon’s first name in the Table of Contents. We regret the errors.
by Cricket Bidleman and Karen Smith
Editor’s Note needed: This article speaks to so many issues for people who are blind. How often must I ask for accessibility in my day-to-day existence? When is it reasonable for me to demand it, and when should I just leave it alone and stay on the sidelines? Will people do what I ask out of obligation, or will they do it because it is, as we often say, really no big deal to accomplish? When will they do it because they like me and really want me to be involved?
Cricket works as our social media coordinator in the communications area at our Jernigan Institute. Given that she has her own obligations to write, I don’t press her very hard for articles, but what a blessing it is when she sets her head and her heart to writing one. As you read what she says, watch as the nuggets go by:
I didn’t have many games growing up, other than a Braille Monopoly® set, a couple of decks of cards, and Uno®. I sometimes spent hours using my slate and stylus to make cards; sometimes I had to staple packets of index cards together to include all the information that was on one print card. By this point, the “cards” were far too bulky to do anything with, and shuffling decks was a real pain. If I was tag-teaming with someone, I could kick some serious butt at Mario Cart. At one point, my brother taught me how to play various Pokémon games on his Game Boy and Nintendo DS. Most of the creatures made different sounds. Although I’d like to think that this was an intentional accessibility feature, it was probably more a byproduct of making the games enticing for others.
The first time I encountered a variety of games was in college, where my friends had these impressive collections of card games, board games, social deception games… and most were inaccessible. Fortunately, my friends didn’t mind adapting the games to make them more usable. One friend even went so far as to make an all-online version of Avalon—a social deception game in which certain characters had access to information that other players couldn’t see. Essentially, certain characters knew who was on their team. My friends didn’t necessarily understand the scope of inaccessibility, nor what it’s like to live in a world where inaccessibility is so rampant, but I was incredibly privileged to have friends who were willing to go the extra mile to include me in recreational activities.
I met my friends Ryan and Maivboon (“My-boon”)—now essential members of my family—in my second quarter of freshman year. Ryan’s enormous collection of games truly eclipses all others. If I recall correctly, they took up almost the entire back seat of a car in 2018. I had never heard of the vast majority of these games, but fortunately, Ryan and his friends were very willing to foster an inclusive gaming environment.
Some of those games were not that difficult to find alternative techniques for. You could use a random number generator for games that needed number sequences. You could use an Optical Character Recognition app to scan cards, or have someone else read or text information. You could team up with someone when boards had no tactile squares or when there were no tactile differences between differently colored pieces. You could put stickers on pieces that blind players are using, add labels to cards, etc.
As someone who constantly had to fight for accessibility, and who felt like asking for accessibility was wrong and taboo because I was effectively asking people to do “something extra” to facilitate my participation, I was incredibly grateful. Blindness was never a big deal on board game nights—I felt truly included and welcome. I didn’t feel like I had to sit on the sidelines unless I wanted to. In fact, sometimes I would volunteer to not play a game because I didn’t want to be an inconvenience, and someone would come up with an alternative technique that would let me participate without much trouble.
When Ryan brought his parents back to the dorm for some games one night during spring break, I was really thinking about sneaking off to my room so as not to be an inconvenience. I had learned to assume that people didn’t know anything about accessibility and were automatically conditioned to be resistant to it. While Ryan was used to finding solutions by now, I assumed that his parents wouldn’t want to do something extra so that I could participate. I ultimately decided to stay with them, which was the best decision because we’re now family.
It has been over six years since that night. I periodically wondered what kind of impression that my accessibility needs made on them. When I stayed with them for part of Covid-19 and after, I tried to be as unintrusive as possible in terms of accessibility. It wasn’t until they asked me why I hadn’t already labeled their appliances that I ended up doing so. That was one of the very few times when someone asked me to implement accessibility rather than the other way around. I have tears in my eyes thinking about how loved and welcome I felt in that moment, and honestly during all the time that I’ve spent with them. They didn’t necessarily understand accessibility at first, but they were and are willing to learn and implement solutions.
Nevertheless, I couldn’t get rid of this feeling that blindness was an inconvenience to all of us, and that their introduction to accessibility on that board games night ruined what should have been some family fun. I read this Facebook post from Ryan’s mom Karen for the first time last weekend, although she wrote it six years ago, and am sharing it with her permission. It is so incredibly refreshing to find out that my blindness and accessibility needs were not a burden for them either. I want to end with what she wrote. Until the day when everyone recognizes the importance of universal design in fostering inclusion, I hope that more people will approach blind and disabled people with the open-mindedness and love that the Smiths have constantly shown me.
March 24, 2018
Last night was a first for me. It was an amazing night. I have tears in my eyes as I write this. Dan and I caught a plane yesterday to spend the weekend with our youngest son, Ryan. He is on spring break during his senior year in college. He is working during the break, so he was not able to come home. We had a nice dinner together and then he invited us back to his dorm for game night. Ryan brought down a selection of board games and we would decide what to play as the evening progressed. And now the amazing part, one of the college students that joined us is blind. Her name is Cricket. That is all I know about her. That is because there was no focus on her blindness. The focus was on the fun we were having playing these games together (complicated games that were new to most of us, but a whole lot of fun). The players just naturally described the game boards, the visuals, things relevant to playing the game, and things that were just aesthetic about the gaming pieces. One of the players also directed her hands to the embossed areas on the pieces and on the game boards, even though it was not needed to understand the rules. There were times when secret information on the game cards needed to be provided to Cricket. When it was legit for one of the other players to also know the information, they texted the info to her phone so her app would read it to her earpiece. When the information could not be shared with another player, one of the players escorted Cricket to find someone else in the dorm that could read the card to her privately. All this was done with a simplicity and naturalness that flowed as a part of the game. Being a part of this evening and the amazing kids made me more proud than I can express. I am in awe of both Cricket’s ability to quickly absorb and play something that I needed all my senses to comprehend and the other students’ abilities to improvise how we played the games. I may never look at a game board the same way as I run my fingers across the embossed areas.
by Eileen Rivera Ley
From the Editor: This article was written for Future Reflections, but the Braille Monitor received a copy. With the concurrence of Editor Debbie Stein, we decided that the Braille Monitor could run this, and it will appear in Future Reflections, which is devoting an entire issue to cooking. Here is the way Debbie Stein has written her introduction for the article:
Eileen Rivera Ley graduated from Harvard University and the Wharton School of Business, where she learned the fine points of communication in the business world. She first met the Federation when she won an NFB National Scholarship in 1986. For many years she served as editor of the NFB’s publication Voice of the Diabetic.
Eileen Rivera Ley and her husband, Tom, who was a blind IT manager at UPS, recognized that blind people are at times challenged when it comes to navigating social settings. As innovative entrepreneurs, they founded Blind Savvy USA to teach blind people success skills that enhance community and professional engagement. All over the country, Blind Savvy conducts workshops that introduce people of all ages to the blindness nuances of networking, conversation, dining, etiquette and more.
Helping blind people shine is our mission. We at Blind Savvy work on the premise that by teaching essential life skills, we are making a real difference in people's lives.
Throughout our career journeys and our advocacy work with the Federation, Tom and I had wonderful opportunities to network and collaborate, often during receptions and over meals. We realized that many blind people don't have practice navigating these social settings. One very practical confidence building skill is refining our table manners. Surprisingly, poor table manners can hold us back socially and professionally. We deliver practical, empowering workshops to blind people in these crucial areas.
I grew up in a family of seven children. Three of us were blind, my sisters Millie, Suzanne, and me. We were rather poor, but we didn’t know it. Like most Puerto Rican families we subsisted on rice and beans, eaten with a fork or spoon. We rarely had much meat that we would need to cut up. We never went to restaurants or other settings where we could observe people using knives and forks. As blind children, we also missed visual cues about table manners.
When I was five years old, our dad used to say, “Keep your elbows off the table!” That admonition made me aware of table manners for the first time. My siblings and I were very competitive, and we worked hard to sit up properly at mealtimes. We always ate dinner together and were encouraged to practice our conversation and listening skills.
As in the past, blind and low vision children were typically encouraged to use fingers or to hunch forward to figure out what was on the plates. But there is a better way. Through our Savvy workshops, we work on truly practical skills such as examining our plate nonvisually by using our knife and fork in the Continental style of dining and finding our beverage without toppling our water glass. In addition, we problem solve those minor catastrophes and blindness bloopers, such as forking a lemon wedge into our mouths or managing an extraordinarily long piece of pasta.
One thing I learned as an adult was the correct way to manage my utensils—fork, spoons, and knives. Too many blind kids hold silverware by wrapping the palm of their hand over the handle. Regrettably, we often find some blind adults using this childlike technique. The palm is on top, and they use the fork to shovel the food in. They are never challenged to practice using a more graceful technique.
Parents, who are naturally protective, are too often tempted to cut up the food for their blind children. Frequently, families have so much on their minds that they don’t make table manners a priority. They are focused on securing Braille instruction and orientation and mobility training for their kids. Parents are arranging transportation to appointments and after-school activities. They manage family problems and deal with issues at work. Parents simply don't have the bandwidth to focus on their child's table manners, and they may not recognize the importance of social integration. Parents understandably become accustomed to how their kids eat, and practicing table manners never gets onto the to-do list.
When I grew up, I moved out into the wider world to go to college. I ate with enough other people that eventually I realized that proper manners made a difference. Some people were fun to dine with and some people were not, either because of their table manners or their conversation skills. I discovered that most professional and personal relationships begin over food. Eating is a foundational aspect of how we connect with other people. I wanted to teach blind people to be successful in the sighted world, and I understood that dining could play an important role in that success.
With my husband's encouragement, I started to study proper etiquette. I wanted to discover the right and wrong ways to do things in various settings. My husband and I pondered everything I discovered. Then we set out to teach what we had learned.
We did a lot of teaching through sessions we called practicums. We would break down each task into its various steps. How do you slice a piece of chicken? How do you get the right amount of food onto your fork? How do you eat spaghetti without making a mess?
One of our priorities is to teach the Continental style of dining (as seen on Downton Abbey). In this style, you hold the knife with your dominant hand, and your other hand holds the fork. You use the knife to explore your plate, much as you use a long white cane to explore your surroundings. I tell students, "Think of the knife as your white cane on your plate."
When stopping for conversation, or to take a drink, you can rest your knife and fork on the upper edge of the plate. The tip of your knife might be at two o'clock, and the tip of your fork at eleven. I think of them as the tip of a pyramid. Your utensils are always in the same place. You never have to search around for them, because you know exactly where you put them!
Another nice thing about Continental dining is that you use the side of your knife to push food onto the tines of your fork. When you pick up your fork, you will know by its weight whether it contains food.
Napkins are very important. I love teaching students to use cloth napkins. Fold the napkin in half like a taco. Wipe your fingers between the layers, keeping all the sticky mess in the middle, away from your clothes. That way, the outside part stays clean. If you need to wipe your mouth, pick up your folded napkin and use a clean corner.
Once we had the privilege of collaborating with a blind woman who was a national advocate and had been a model in Brazil. She was a very accomplished person. When we introduced to her the Continental style to cut her steak, she started to cry. She told me that whenever she attended an event, even if she was the keynote speaker, her mother would cut up her meat for her! She had always believed that blind people could not cut up their food independently.
Buffets and networking receptions are often part of social and professional gatherings, and buffet dining can be quite a challenge. It's hard simultaneously to balance a plate full of food, carry a drink, and use a cane to find a table. We encourage participants, "Don't overfill! You can always go back later for more."
As you go through the buffet line, it's perfectly acceptable for you to ask the person ahead of you what's coming up next. Usually, the handle of the serving utensil is extended over the side of the bowl or platter. If someone offers to put some food onto your plate, it's perfectly alright to accept the favor. It's even fine for you to ask for help as you go through the line. Interaction can be an opportunity for you to get to know someone new. We want to be especially careful about spreading germs, so use a napkin to reach for and pick up finger foods.
Keep in mind that dining with people is less about the food and more about the fellowship. We encourage people to think about conversation. One way to help people feel comfortable is to ask them open-ended questions. Most people are pleased when they realize you are interested in getting to know them.
We have practice banquets, and we talk about all the things that could go wrong. For instance, what do you do if you get a piece of gristle in your mouth? You can't spit it into your napkin; that would be gross! I suggest you bring your fork to your mouth, get the gristle onto the fork, and slide it off to the side of your plate. Fortunately, people aren't as observant as you might expect. Just remember where you put the gristle, so you don't pick it up again!
We conduct workshops all over the country, focusing on how to be savvy physically. For instance, how can we make the maximum positive impact at a professional reception? At such an event, many participants will be milling around in a big noisy room. There are folks you would like to meet, people who might help you professionally—but how are you going to find them?
One idea I suggest is to contact the event organizers ahead of time and ask for a list of participants. In that way you'll have people's names and the names of their organizations or companies. Then, when you attend the event, you can tell people who you are looking for. You can get people to tell you who's in the room and help you find them.
Never let someone stick you in a chair with a plate and a drink! Don't let anyone put you in a corner! And do not go to a reception hungry; you are not there for the food. Carry either a plate or a drink, but never both. You need to be able to use your cane in one hand so you can move around freely.
In a social situation such as a professional gathering, we can get our blindness to work to our advantage. We are noticeable, and we should not be ashamed of it! We stick out, and we can turn that to our advantage. If employers are in a room with a hundred people, who are they going to remember? They'll remember the person who is unique, the person who stands out from the rest of the crowd.
In Blind Savvy workshops we frequently discuss nonverbal communication. Your posture, your hairstyle, and how you dress communicate nonverbally about who you are. Take the initiative and offer a warm, friendly handshake with a smile. Say, "I'd like to shake your hand," and hold your hand out to the other person. Once you shake hands with someone, you're in the perfect position to have a conversation. You're facing them, and you're at just the right distance.
So now you're standing with someone you wanted to meet. What do you talk about? One thing you don't want to talk about is your blindness! If the person focuses on your blindness for more than thirty seconds, it's up to you to change the topic. You might transition to technology or travel. Show them you have many dimensions.
Naturally some people go home after our workshops and slip back into their old ways. But some people take what they learn and build upon it. We love sharing! We love that we've found a niche where we can make a difference in people's lives.
To learn more about Blind Savvy, visit https://blindsavvyusa.com.
by Jane Hager
From the Editor: Learning about the technology is critical for blind people wanting to make the most of the alternative techniques available. So too is learning where one can get equipment and what help exists to assist. This article is oriented toward a Maryland program, but in many states there are similar ones, and readers are encouraged to inquire by starting with affiliate presidents and moving on to the technology committees that exist in almost every state.
Jane Hager works as a specialist for the Maryland Accessible Telecommunication Program, also known as MAT. MAT is a program under Telecommunication Access Maryland, an agency housed at the Maryland Department of Disabilities. Her life experience as an individual with severe/profound hearing loss has led her to a career in working with people with a variety of disabilities. She graduated from University of Maryland, holds a professional certificate in Peer Mentoring from Gallaudet University and has completed training in the field of positive psychology. The MAT Program is her latest and favorite career incarnation. Here is what she says:
Talk, Text and Train is a pilot program created to help bridge the digital divide while providing accessible device training to Maryland citizens of the low-vision and blind community through the Maryland Accessible Telecommunication (MAT) equipment distribution program and partners.
The National Federation of the Blind (NFB) was the host for the inaugural event of the Maryland Talk Text Train (TTT) program held at the NFB Jernigan Institute on September 27, 2023. Telecommunications Equipment Distribution Programs (TEDP) exist in thirty-eight states throughout the country. While each program is tailored to an individual state according to its laws and the needs of its citizens, the purpose is to provide telecommunication devices that are accessible and usable—regardless of a person’s differing ability. Telecommunication has evolved to include video platforms, texting, emailing, and traditional phone calls. The means to do this are smartphones, cell phones, iPads, and tablets. The TTT is a pilot program created to help bridge the digital gap. The NFB hopes that by supporting this and other similar pilot projects, we can inspire other states to establish and execute this type of innovative program to positively affect the lives of their blind, low-vision, and deafblind citizens.
Maryland is fortunate to have an excellent equipment distribution program known as the MAT Program, which is housed under the Maryland Department of Disabilities. The MAT Program distributes accessible telecommunication equipment to any qualifying Marylander with a disability that prevents them from using standard devices such as a phone or tablet. The MAT Program has been on the cutting edge of learning about the growing body of wireless devices designed for the low-vision and blind community, and several of these devices are now available to qualifying MAT customers. Those devices include the BlindShell, the Pixel 6a, the iPhone, the Hable One, the RealSAM, the SmartVision 3, the MiniVision2, and the RAZ Memory Cell Phone. MAT recognizes that users often need a lot of training to successfully use these devices. The MAT staff, although small, is mighty and determined with just four team members, but MAT cannot provide adequate training for all customers statewide. To address this concern, the TTT program was developed.
Talk Text Train is a partnership with Marylanders Online, a program through the University of Maryland, whose goal is to close the digital divide by being a resource to support anything digital. Their technology navigators can help with printer installation, understanding how to navigate an iPad, or assisting those who qualify for the Affordable Connectivity Program so they can receive a federal and state discount on their internet service. Other partners include the Maryland Division of Rehabilitation Services (DORS); BlindShell USA; RAZ Mobility; RealSAM Pocket, USA; Teltex; and Hable One.
The TTT trainer participants master various telecommunication devices so they can train other people who are blind to use them. Using a train-the-trainer model, TTT recruited existing blind professionals employed by organizations throughout the state to support others who are blind by providing a variety of training in assistive technology, independent living, orientation, and mobility. Simultaneously, TTT is generating employment opportunities for other Marylanders who are blind by helping them become independent contractors paid to provide the training once they become qualified by TTT. To fill in the geographical gap, a few key digital navigators with the Marylanders Online program also participated in the Talk, Text, Train event.
To achieve this, the MAT Program teamed up with the National Federation of the Blind and hosted a kick-off day on September 27, 2023, at the NFB Jernigan Institute. This is one of the many projects we are able to host with assistance from the state of Maryland’s Nonvisual Access Initiative grant administered by the Maryland Department of Disabilities. Over sixty participants and lead trainers attended. The day was jam-packed with brief introductions to each of the devices, motivational speakers, and valuable resource information.
The event was a delightful success. Master of Ceremony Marguerite Woods, president of the Seniors Division of the NFB of Maryland, introduced the presenters. Diane Ducharme, senior sales manager for BlindShell USA, partnered with Freek van Welsenis from Denmark who presented on the Hable One via Zoom. Following Freek, Diane continued highlighting the BlindShell. Next up were Robert Felgar and Kenny Washington from RAZ Mobility presenting on the MiniVision2, SmartVision 3, Pixel 6a, and RAZ Memory Cell Phone. Brief overviews and profiles of who these devices are typically the best solution for were given. Finally, Carmen Oche, business development manager for RealSam Pocket, USA wrapped up the day of intense learning.
In addition to these great product representatives, the event began with a keynote from Jo Berman, former lawyer with the federal government Environmental Protection Agency. Later in the day, Vishnu Desai from Marylanders Online discussed what the TTT program does and how it can assist organizations with events to get those who qualify signed up for the Affordable Connectivity Program. Anil Lewis and Marguerite Woods welcomed all attendees to lunch and informed them about the activities of the NFB. The day wrapped up with Tandra Hunter-Payne from the Maryland Department of Rehabilitation Services (DORS) and the division’s support to provide device training, resulting from the TTT initiative to people enrolled in the Independent Living Older Blind program, as well as those with employment goals receiving DORS support.
Training did not end after the in-person opening event—there are now virtual sessions held twice a week for a deep dive into each device. Participants, working with devices from their kits, are becoming prepared to instruct others.
With support from TTT, MAT can continue to provide awesome devices specifically designed for the blind community that make phone calls, text messages, and apps more accessible. It also ensures Maryland has a team of mentors and master trainers ready to accelerate independence for others!
by Charles Innes
From the Editor: I know from previous conversations that this article has been years in the making and has made it from thought to paper. Some of the phraseology reflects the age of its author, and unless we judged it difficult to understand, we left it.
Finding a blind realtor is not something one happens upon every day. Some of this story will be familiar to those of us who have tried to sell the rehabilitation system on a good idea and have refused to take no for an answer. Sometimes the simple truth is that if we want something badly enough, we just have to do it ourselves. When you finish this article, you will know a bit more about real estate and have traveled through some real emotional ups and downs with its author. Here is what Charles has to say:
This account was originally written as a "Thank you" to an inspiring president of the National Federation of the Blind, the late Kenneth Jernigan. In one of our conversations, I remember Ken telling me, out of the blue, "Saint Paul turns to Light at Baltimore." It was elementary local geography, since Light Street starts where Saint Paul Place ends, at Baltimore Street. But I got it; it was time for a personal revolution. Perhaps my experiences gaining real estate licensure will offer hope to other blind and low-vision people who are contemplating this type of livelihood.
My name is Charlie Innes. I am now in my seventies. I spent thirty-one years as a licensed commercial realtor in the state of Maryland, though totally blind. I was active as a sales agent from 1988 through 2018.
By 1986, I had been unemployed and receiving food stamps and welfare for a decade. It was embarrassing. Even with a college degree, no one would hire me to do anything, a blind man with dark glasses tapping his way around with a white cane. "What can a blind person do?"
After college, successive attempts to make a living on my own in several vocations failed. I worked for a time at a sheltered workshop called Blind Industries in the Baltimore outskirts. BISM was a non-profit facility which afforded employment for low-vision people of all genders. It offered specialized training in life-skills like white-cane mobility, the use of adaptive computers, and food preparation. Miraculously, it also housed a woodshop for blind clients which was supervised by a shop instructor from the Dominican Republic. Ramon Lugo, the instructor, was also a talented millwright and, I found out, had designed and fabricated a variety of original wooden toys. Ramon and I tried to figure a way to mass-produce the toys in partnership. So I had photos taken of the toys, rocking animals for toddlers and indestructible toy cars and trucks made from hardwoods. I publicized the gentleman and his work in an article submitted to Catholic Review. With a loan, I then purchased an industrial machine to make the toys, an Ekstrom Carlson plunge-router. Even with the participation of a friendly cabinetmaker and the use of an industrial bench saw and drill press, however, it eventually became apparent that this was not going to be a profit-making operation. Handmade wooden toys would have to be a work of love, not a livelihood.
When a doting grandmother died and left me two thousand dollars, I bought a pair of business suits from Joseph Banks Clothiers and had them custom tailored. Then I ordered a thousand embossed business cards advertising Innes Consulting, bearing the family crest, post office box address, and phone number. We didn't have emails in those days. At the time, I lived in a seedy tenement house in the blue-collar area of Hampden in Baltimore. The apartment building was infested with mice. I taught my fiancé how to set mousetraps, and we caught 110 mice in ninety days. She couldn't stand it and who could blame her? She finally left me.
One day I noticed a condescending tone in the grocer's voice when I put food stamps on the check-out counter. It registered in my brain. This stupidity has to stop.
The Hampden-Woodberry area where I lived happened to be the cabinet-making capital of the state. Now with some carpentry background, I'd become friends with business owners in the industrial parks. The neighborhood is called Woodberry, which is now well-known for its transplanted yuppie businesses and fashion.
One day an opportunity presented itself for me to be of service and earn a consulting fee. It looked and sounded like I'd get paid for helping someone. Old Mr. Geis had experienced heart failure, and his family's architectural millwork factory had to be sold off. It was a facility where workers use milling machines, shapers, sash-machines and planers to manufacture trim, wood windows and architectural molding, things like baseboard and windowsills. After meeting the gentleman, I agreed to help him sell the business and building, publicize the sale, and find him a prospective buyer, for a fee. Mr. Geis was grateful for the help and agreed. He then gave me a complete tour, explaining the hundred-year-old business and telling me how much money he wanted to get for the family business.
I did a lot of research among cabinet-makers. The business and 90 percent of its machinery turned out to be obsolete, and the business couldn't be sold to anyone. The technology had changed. On the other hand, the building was a solid, four-story masonry structure with 20,000 square feet of space, tractor-trailer portal, loading dock, and a sixteen-foot freight elevator. Someone was going to have to re-purpose this building, which is to say, re-think the building's utility. Mr. Geis promised to pay for my time, but he wouldn't put anything in writing. I wrote up a detailed specification sheet for the property, accompanied by photographs, then advertised it in the newspaper at my own expense. Over a year and a half, I brought him eighteen prospects to whom we showed it. Using my sale flyer, Mr. Geis eventually sold the building for a whopping $450,000. I sent him a bill on my Innes Consulting letterhead for $2,200, charging him for eighty-eight hours of work at $25 per hour. It was much less time than I had actually spent. To my chagrin, Mr. Geis offered me $100 and a leather-top stand-up desk, in compensation. He said, "You don't have a real estate license," so I wouldn't be allowed to claim a fee. The old codger was going to try to turn me into a volunteer. A volunteer is defined, in real estate, as someone who doesn't get paid.
So I wrote to the attorney general of Maryland, J. J. Curran, enclosing my work product and log. I received a written reply from an assistant attorney general who had oversight of the Real Estate Commission. To my satisfaction, the AAG gave me permission to bill Mr. Geis for my work as a consultant. Old Mr. Geis and I met at our usual spot, a working-class breakfast nook amongst the mills. I renewed my request to be paid and he re-offered the $100. I handed him the Assistant Attorney General's letter, which he read, and then became agitated. Wish I could have seen his face at that time. He replied, "I have to make a phone call. He rose to use the payphone to consult with his lawyer, then returned, and wrote me a check for $2,200. It was the biggest paycheck I'd ever received. More importantly, his check validated my year's honest work.
The other lesson I gleaned from these events was that if I wanted to get some of the real money that was out there, it would be necessary to obtain a real estate salesperson's license. Sales commissions on big properties can be substantial. It all had to be street-legal.
At first, inevitably there were problems relating to getting licensed, because I am legally blind. Fortunately, Catonsville Community College had a real estate pre-licensing course and also provided limited numbers of readers for blind students. Getting the real estate textbook recorded so I could listen to it and fully participate in the classes was going to be a problem. There was no way to pass the course without reading this textbook, especially because our instructor had in fact personally authored it. There would not be any way to fake it. Recordings for the Blind (RFB) in Princeton, New Jersey, didn't have a recording of the book either. It would take a year after I sent two copies of the printed textbook for volunteers to record it for me on reel-to-reel audio tape. Other blind folks hadn't previously asked for this kind of recording.
Then there was the problem of a blind candidate taking the course's final examination and state certification test. They would have to be read aloud by impartial proctors. Readers employed by me would not be permitted to administer the tests. Fortunately, again, the college provided an impartial proctor to read me the questions. I passed the two tests and was awarded a sales person’s license.
Then there was the problem of finding a broker who would be willing to employ me. All agents must work under a broker, and the additional problem of using assistants and readers to take listings, show properties to prospective buyers, and prepare contracts of sale for signature created something more than the normal challenge. I would have to hire and train persons to do all those things.
There are a couple of things one should understand about what then took place. I am totally blind and use buses and a white cane for travel, Braille for writing, and talking software for computer access. For those who are not as familiar with blindness as readers of the Braille Monitor, Braille is tactile writing, paper with raised dots that allows fingers of a blind person to read words embossed on paper. Slate and stylus are used to write things down. A long cane, fifty-five inches in length, permits me to move quickly down sidewalks and cross streets.
At first, I applied to several companies. Two brokers refused to hire me at all because of my blindness. One brokerage CEO wrote me a letter saying, "I don't know how you would show properties. I can't employ you." Finally, a large firm in Towson permitted me to hang my license on their wall and use a cubicle on the commercial agents' floor. Suit and tie were required dress. With assistance, some paid and some voluntary, I listed seven properties during my first year as an agent and put four under contract.
There were internal conflicts and some problems in their corporate office, and I determined to transfer within a year. I found another broker who hired me over the telephone without being aware of my blindness. My new boss was grateful enough later when I solved all problems related to my handicap and dropped commission checks on his desk, all with no special help from any of his staff.
Transportation was the most difficult challenge of all, since if you don't drive, there are only buses and impossibly expensive taxicabs. I met and became friends with a social worker who worked for a state agency and figured out how to purchase an old van for her. The van was inoperable, and I worked on it myself in the backyard, using mechanic's skills acquired before losing sight. I also employed other persons to assist me to repair the van, like a guy to fix the transmission and another to epoxy a cracked engine block. Later on, with some income earned from sales commissions, I eventually bought my social worker friend a used Toyota 4Runner, which she drove and loved.
I joined the statewide and national realtors' organizations and the local board, all of whom were helpful and remarkably supportive. Paid secretaries and drivers assisted me with realtor's chores. My customers generally appreciated my personal service.
I haven't made a huge living from the realty trade, of course, but have sold two or three listings every year since that time. In 1992, after receiving a relatively large commission check, I put down $2,500 to purchase a house from a friendly client. The gentleman was pleased to extend owner-financing to me, since I'd given him personal service and proven trustworthy. No bank would have lent me purchase money based upon my slim Social Security check, so this worked out very well. The house I bought was a huge, aging brick and mortar Victorian with wrap-around porch. It was in terrible condition and needed lots of work. It was going to be, however, all mine, my first home!
I kept the Social Security Administration apprised of qualifiable income all the while and paid taxes during years in which I earned a profit. I enrolled with SSA in a PASS Plan (a Plan for Achieving Self-Support) which permits disabled persons engaged in trial work to escrow and report business income for use in starting a business. When the income was sufficient, I surrendered the entitlement checks.
After I became owner of the huge old house, I repaired it with my own labor and employed skill-tradespersons, such as a drywall mechanic and painters. I learned roofing and household electricity. Then I rented rooms to students at a nearby college. A furnished bedroom with the use of common areas would bring in $350 to $450 per month. Presently home-share rent income is $500 to $600. Using rent income, I eventually fixed the place up, paid off the initial mortgage, and re-financed with a bank.
All the while, I juggled finances so as not to lose SSDI income during hard times and forewent monthly entitlements checks during times of profit. It is especially important to be fastidious in reporting income if one is a recipient of entitlements.
In general, for tax purposes, blind agents have higher expenses than sighted, non-handicapped persons. Extra expenses that would be listed on one's annual Form C, business profit and loss, and SE (self-employment income form), include readers, secretarial help, drivers and cabs—and especially adaptive equipment like OCR and screen-review software. These specialized apps were indispensable. Some proprietary programs used by real estate professionals were entirely inaccessible to blind people. Smartphones have now simplified some, though not all, of these problems.
In 1994, my first computer cost $2,200, which had to be paid in cash. VocalEyes software was about $400 and OpenBook cost $1,200 more, all of which I had to save and personally pay. The state Department of Vocational Rehabilitation, Services for the Blind had funds put aside to purchase reading devices and software for blind people, but I wasn't to receive any of it. I had satisfied the medical requirement for eligibility, that of being without light perception. However, an agency psychologist assessed me and concluded that I was "psychologically and educationally unsuited for a grant to receive an assistive device.” That was a remarkable finding, considering I already had, as a blind student, completed studies in behavioral science at a university. I hold a bachelor of arts degree and had passed the sixty-four-hour real estate education course and the state salesperson's exam.
Without assistive technologies, I would be completely dependent upon paid readers to make a living. The agency supervisors probably wished to allocate available public funds to administration, rather than direct assistance to blind clients. They might have been primarily interested in paying their own salaries. "Screw the blind, protect your paycheck."
The National Federation of the Blind, an organization of blind people, helped me understand what I was up against and to push back. To be fair, the state agencies employ a number of dedicated and caring people. Nevertheless, it is always necessary to advocate for oneself. Motivated blind people can find help.
In the end, it was alright that I got turned down for the portable camera, or whatever it was. I was making enough from sales commissions to buy my own computer. That machine, of course, had to be custom built. Back in the day, computer operating systems were not particularly friendly for blind users. It was necessary to consult extensively about computer-design in order to obtain a machine that would support an external voice synthesizer. That device was called a Multi-Voice and plugged into a serial port on the back of the desktop and cost me $1,200 more. Today, it is used by people suffering from ALS who are losing the power of speech, since it generates a robotic voice.
In the later Nineties, after Microsoft DOS operating systems were superseded by Windows 3 and Windows 95, sound cards and voice synthesizer chips were routinely installed in desktop computers in “expansion slots.” Fortunately, for blind folks, the general public was interested in listening to music on computer speakers and downloading music from the internet. Towards the year 2000, most computers came with sound cards that were compatible with software and chip-based voice synthesizers.
Initially, the technological barriers were difficult, getting computers to talk to users. Plus software manufacturers like Microsoft showed little regard for their blind customers. That situation ended when the National Federation of the Blind sued Microsoft in United States courts and obtained a consent decree that obligated Microsoft to fashion its operating systems to be "actively accessible" to handicapped users.
That took some doing—blind attorneys suing a mega-corporation in US Court in 1996. When Microsoft released its Internet Explorer 4.0 browser in 1995, it was all graphics, all pictures, and few existing screen readers could read the screens. After imposition of the consent decree, which is still in effect, all Windows and Windows Logo programs must incorporate active accessibility, must label all links and graphics, and provide key-stroke equivalents for mouse movements. The Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA), signed under President Bush in 1991, enabled the United States government to decline to purchase inaccessible products, hence boycott Microsoft in the event of non-compliance. Microsoft didn't need to listen to the blind, but it needed to listen to its major customer, the government.
But that's enough of technology. The important things that need to be learned by anyone wishing to become a realtor include figuring out how to create and use listing agreements, releases, disclaimers, and contracts of sale. Nowadays the forms are downloadable digitally from such websites as the Maryland Real Estate Commission and Maryland Association of Realtors. Some forms may be filled out online, then printed or emailed to clients and customers.
Generally, all real property transactions must be in writing, and an agent must obtain physical signatures from buyers and sellers. For this, any blind agent is best served by having an assistant or cooperating fellow agent to guide the client or customer as to where to sign. It is necessary for someone to witness that the documents have been, as it is said, "fully executed." Without a signature, there isn't going to be a deal. There are electronic means of signing documents like e-sign, of course, but they don't apply to some essential documents and to property deeds. Following a millennium of custom in property law, actual signatures are necessary on documents that are to be filed in county land records offices.
So that's it. It helps if one has, in addition to fairly good social skills, some higher education. It is better if one has an AA or BA degree to prepare for the real-estate vocation, since the legalities can be complex. Some agents rely upon their broker or office staff for document preparation, but that's not very professional. It may be necessary, for instance, to explain the meaning of a contract’s provisos to a buyer as one reads through it with them. In Maryland, an ordinary residential contract of sale might comprise, with addenda, as many as nineteen pages.
Things are generally simpler in commercial real estate transactions than in residential ones. I chose to specialize in commercial transactions. Statutory consumer protections are fewer in commercial deals. The condition of a commercial or investment property is often negotiable, as are contingencies relating to inspection, verification of business income, and scheduling of settlement. A new owner may wish to build out the location to suit their own business needs. In residential sales, the state mandates legal protections for buyers, whereas in commercial transactions, almost anything goes. Also, commercial buyers and sellers are more likely to be fully aware of their objectives and the kind of properties or businesses they are seeking. Residential buyers, on the other hand, may want to go on a sightseeing tour with the hapless agent as a captive tour guide. One may use a sighted assistant to offer buyers a virtual preview in the office, but all of this will be at the agent's expense.
In this business, one doesn't get paid unless a meeting of the minds between buyer and seller has taken place and put in writing, and until the transaction and all of its sub-parts and financing arrangements, if any, have been approved. Verbal agreements are problematic and difficult to enforce. Sometimes loan officers and bank appraisers like to run the transactions, so cash customers who weren't using bank finance were my favorites. One must be patient. One may wait three to nine months for a so-called “done deal” to go through, and for the settlement officer to write your broker's commission check.
Back in the day, the "nut" or break-even total commission was about $17,500 for the year. With that amount of gross income, an agent might cover the unavoidable expenses of maintaining licensure and operating as an agent. Brokers and agents need to pay professional dues, errors and omissions insurance, and computer access fees on an annual basis. At 4 percent and 5 percent commission, split two or four ways, do the math: one might earn as little as 1 or 1.25 percent of a multi-broker sale and have to sell $1,300,000 worth of property each year to break even. Lots of people do this easily, and some are selling three to ten million per year.
The realtors’ social events are fun. It’s a great job. One gets to meet lots of people and serve the public while doing so. There aren't many of us who are blind realtors, of course. Many of my customers and clients are delighted with the service I provide. Because so much of the work is by phone and computer, many of my clients don't even know that I am blind and don't find out till we meet at a property or at a settlement table in an office. I don't tell them unless I have to.
If you're blind, you should be better than average at the same tasks performed by other agents. It doesn't hurt to acquire extra skills. In my case, I taught myself commercial appraisal, which is a little complicated. I wanted to be better able to advise clients about the value and marketability of their property. Auditing a course in civil procedure at law school was useful. I obtained a CD-based crisscross telephone directory to identify specific businesses using the Standard Industrial Classification Code (SICC) within a particular zip code. This enables me to assess the level of competition and predict the likelihood of their business's success. I purchased a talking tape-measure from the Federation's store to take the dimensions of offered properties. One can't always rely upon the reports of others or upon aging official records. If it's smaller than they thought it was, an agent might find themselves compensating a buyer's disappointment.
It is good to be able to do a title search on a given property by visiting land records offices. The records clerks are generally happy to assist a citizen. If, for example, a parcel to be sold has too many recorded liens, it might not be saleable, and one might attend what is called a dry settlement. That means you get no paycheck, and you just wasted a whole lot of your time.
It’s always necessary for an agent to be honest and trustworthy. Often, there's a lot of money involved in a real estate transaction, and you can't touch any of it. Large deposits you receive don't belong to you, at least till your client writes your broker and you a check out of it. Customers’ deposits, for example, remain in your company's escrow accounts and are not touched until the time of transaction or refund to a buyer.
It got better later. After improving and refinancing my first home, I borrowed $20,000 from equity to purchase a shell, a vacant property in the city. With cash, a partner and I obtained a considerable bargain. As they say, sometimes "Cash is king." That property was a complete wreck and a lot of work to fix. To accomplish that gut-rehab, I had to find craftsmen, such as a plumber and carpenter, to do the things that I as a blind person couldn't do by myself, plus one guy whose only job was to watch the sub-contractors. In order to obtain an occupancy permit for this formerly vacant property, we had to comply with stringent building codes. If an inspector had a hand out, we would just approach the agency director and let them know. Everything eventually worked out.
The happy ending to this was that I graduated from being an agent to becoming an owner and landlord. The better part of the happy ending was that the social worker and I hooked up and got married. I kept the cars fixed, and she drove me around and we loved each other a lot. Kathleen Swords, my partner, passed in 2008. Rest in peace, dear lady.
I owe thanks to many individuals and no thanks to a few others. Real estate is sometimes a rough business. The support and encouragement of the organized blind, including the late Kenneth Jernigan and members of the Federation, were key elements that put me on a path to dignity and independence. Thank you all.
by Gary Wunder
There are times I see wonderful quotations and have a yearning to share them but am never quite sure where to do it. It seems to me that perhaps a small column that would run from time to time in the Braille Monitor might be appropriate. Maybe you saw something in a book of fiction that struck you as being something to remember. Maybe you saw something explained so well in a book of nonfiction that you wanted to share the concept so that others could benefit. What I share here came from my brother, who is definitely not a reader and in fact considers reading a struggle. Nevertheless, he thought enough of this to wade through it and share it with me. I gladly share it here with you and encourage you to do some sharing of your own:
Author unknown
by Rachel Held
Each year, thousands of Federation members and friends of the Federation contribute before and during National Convention to various funds that support blind people. In 2024, generosity is still needed to fund our great programs. When you give $25 or more between May 16 and July 6, 5:00 p.m. eastern time, you will be entered into the Dream Big: Give $25 Drive Drawing. Each $25 increment is a chance to win.
Why “Dream Big?” Because we know that blindness need not hold you back. One of our members recently shared:
I joined the National Federation of the Blind, and one of their initiatives is promoting STEAM education for all blind persons. Prior to my membership, I was unaware of the blindness perspective and what was possible for blind persons in the visual arts, technology, and beyond. Most importantly, art and technology simultaneously complement one another and allow endless possibilities to emerge. —Joy
We want our community to feel empowered to dream big; and we’ll work with determination so those dreams can be realized. There are no limits to what we can accomplish.
When you contribute to the Dream Big: Give $25 Drive, you’ll be entered to win:
There’s more! This year, thanks to the collaboration among HumanWare, the American Printing House, and the National Federation of the Blind, you may also be entered to win a Monarch Dynamic Tactile Device! With each entry, just indicate that you’d like to also be entered into the Monarch drawing by either checking the box on the Give $25 Drive online form, mentioning it on the phone, or including a note with your check.
New this year: Donations in honor of you! Maybe you want to help the Federation but are not in a position to give. Or you just want more chances to win. Do you have friends or family that want to contribute and give you a chance to win the prize? If they place your name and phone number or email into the field on our Give $25 Drive form, you will be placed into the drawing an additional time for each $25 they give.
The campaign supports several funds:
Kenneth Jernigan Fund: The proceeds from this fund are used to bring attendees to their first national convention and more. It is named for Dr. Jernigan who planned our conventions for more than forty years and who did so much to make them what they are today.
SUN Fund: These funds are being set aside for a rainy day.
White Cane Fund: These dollars go directly to the general treasury of the Federation to be used where needed most.
tenBroek Fund: These dollars go to the tenBroek Memorial Fund which owns the property at 200 East Wells at Jernigan Place in Baltimore for the benefit of blind people.
How to contribute and qualify:
You must specify a fund to enter the drawing. You can do this by using our Give $25 Drive online donation form at https://nfb.org/Give25Donate, specifying a fund when you phone us, or in the memo if giving by check. Choose one of the funds outlined above. Your donation will be counted for the drawing regardless of which fund you designate. If you are not sure which fund to elect, please select our White Cane Fund as it allows the most flexibility to meet changing organizational needs.
Give to the Dream Big: Give $25 Drive campaign online by using our Give $25 Drive contribution form at https://nfb.org/Give25Donate.
The winner of both drawings will be announced July 8, 2024, at the banquet.
Don’t forget to help us share the Federation with others, and thank you for your generosity!
by Shelley Keeland
From the Editor: This is a wonderful story about retiring, transitioning to something else that gives structure and has meaning, and the fear that goes along with trying something new.
Shelley has two passions since she retired, music and writing. She loves listening to all types of music and also singing in the church choir. Writing is where she is taking the steps to grow and branch out as much as she can. Shelley loves writing with a steno and also enjoys her two jobs as secretary of NFBAR, but she is so excited to learn that she can write articles like this one. She loves to tell stories, both hers and those of others. She’s never thought about writing a novel, but maybe that will come someday, and we can do a book review. Here is her contribution:
I would love to share my personal experience with the National Federation of the Blind of Arkansas and how, in my giving, I received much more. I became a member of the affiliate in the spring of 2021 at a time when my life was about to change in a major way. I was planning to retire in the fall from my job as a court reporter that I held for twenty-eight years. I wanted to see if there might be a way I could become involved with an organization where I could help others who are blind.
I decided to join a chapter and attend some meetings. My thought was to dip my toe in and see if NFB is where I belong. I was employed most of that year and attended chapter meetings on and off until the spring of 2022, right before our state convention. The position of state secretary was up for election, and several NFB friends encouraged me to run because they felt I had the skills and experience. I agreed to do so, having no real idea of what we do in the affiliate, because I had only attended chapter meetings.
Despite still feeling exhausted after my recent retirement and my misgivings about whether I could do a good job, I ran and won the election. As I assumed my new secretary duties, I started to believe I didn’t have the skills at all. My previous job involved a different type of word processing program just for court reporters, so I was fumbling as I learned how to use my old 2010 version of Microsoft Word. I didn’t know how much to include in the minutes. This wasn’t a job where verbatim transcripts were required, and I agonized about what to put in and leave out from the minutes each month. As a court reporter, we could change the outcome of a proceeding if we made a mistake, and my perfectionist nature got the better of me, because I made human mistakes.
Instead of feeling more confident in the next few months, I would beat myself up for any errors I made. Retirement was still new, and I hadn’t given myself enough time before jumping into the fire. After about ten months on the job, I felt so overwhelmed with self-doubt that I decided it would be better to hand over the responsibility to someone who might do a better job. I didn’t know how to take a different path toward being able to change, grow, and belong. With the support of my affiliate president and my friends within the organization, I made the shameful and painful decision to step away.
Fortunately, President Chadwick found someone to take on the responsibility. Some seven or eight months later, I found out the appointed secretary was going to move and that the position would be open again for the rest of the term. I had time by that point to have rested a little and feel ready to take on the responsibility, and I realized I was holding myself back. No one was criticizing me but myself. I have a close friend who says, “Other people can tell you no, but never tell yourself no.”
After stepping away, the tasks didn’t seem that daunting. I approached President Chadwick and asked if she would appoint me or if she felt the affiliate might say they had no trust in me. I couldn’t blame them if they had. She appointed me and asked me to attend the first affiliate board meeting and explain why I left. As I did so, my heart was pounding because I felt so ashamed of myself and expected the worst. The president could appoint whomever she chose, but it seemed likely to me they might not support her decision. I apologized for stumbling and asked for their trust and for another chance. I was welcomed back to the board and told how much they supported me, because we’re a family. They only requested that I ask for help when needed.
As I updated my version of Microsoft Word and began to feel more confident that I had the ability to adjust to the job as affiliate secretary, it was time for elections within the At-Large Chapter. I felt encouraged and decided to step up to the plate and run for the position as chapter secretary and won that election. Now I have less desire to try for the impossibility of perfection, but instead do the work in these secretary roles both because I love writing and out of love and respect for NFB and the blindness movement. I wanted to write this article to say that change is always painful and difficult, especially when we’re blind. There are moments of doubt and weakness when taking on a new task, whether large or small. We’re not alone. It’s a gift to truly understand what it means to be part of the blindness community. It’s not about what any individual member can or can’t do. It’s about what we all do together. We always hear that when you give, you shall receive. Hearing the stories and life experiences, as well as sharing ideas from other members, is so enriching. The Arkansas affiliate, as all of them do, has much to offer. We have several writers who can share our successes and experiences, members who are skilled and willing to take on the difficult job of fundraising and to share the load in various working committees, and amazing affiliate and chapter boards. We have members who may not feel comfortable speaking out in meetings or acting as leaders or board members but who do what they can, when they can, to support all we do. Some people are so busy they can rarely attend, and they’re truly valued and loved, whether or not they can be present. No member is more or less special than another. The best lesson I learned is that we all have an unconditional family and a place at the table, and I only had to retire and start giving my time from the heart to get here. It’s more fulfilling than my paid job ever could be.
by Dan Tevelde
From the Editor: When many of us hear the words assistive technology, we think of something computer-based, how much it costs, and how difficult it might be for us to replace it. But as Dan reminds us, not all assistive technology is complicated or expensive. It is a good reminder, for as helpful as technology is, its use depends on the confidence we have in ourselves based not only on training but the attitude we hold about the things we can do.
Dan lives with his husband Chris in the Chicago suburbs, and they are active in the Chicago NFB chapter. He is also the chair of the Illinois Website Committee. Dan works in the accessibility testing field and is seeking future opportunities. At sixty-three years of age, he considers himself semi-retired, and to fill the time he enjoys reading, travel, and living with their ten-year old feisty cat. He’s passionate about Braille literacy, accessibility, and advocacy. Dan and Chris have been members of the Chicago Chapter since 2014. Here is his article:
I recently had an experience using a cane which made me think about how some of the tools we use do not need to be associated with a computer or mobile device. I want to point out that my experience using a cane is a matter of personal preference. I am not suggesting that using a cane is better than using a guide dog. Whether a person travels with a cane or dog is a matter of personal preference. I work in the accessibility field and have learned that accessibility is not just about making websites and mobile applications accessible. Accessibility includes any tool a blind person may use to function independently. A cane, guide dog, or a slate and stylus are some of the tools blind people use. This thought occurred to me while I was at a doctor’s appointment. I had just checked in and was invited to take a seat. I could tell by the ambient sound that the room was not large. I decided to use my cane instead of asking for help. I turned away from the check-in counter and started walking toward where I thought I might find a seat. I was slowly sweeping my cane left and right until the tip touched a solid surface. I decided to move toward the object while keeping the cane tip in contact with the object. I could tell that changing the angle of my cane from horizontal to vertical moved me closer to the chair. I touched the object and determined it was an empty seat. I turned around, sat down, and put my cane away.
It occurred to me that I had used the cane as an accessibility tool. I identified a task I needed to do and completed it independently. If I had not used a cane, I might not have found the chair or aimlessly wandered around the office. I would have given the impression that I was helpless and could not do something as simple as navigating an office building. I do not know if anyone was paying attention to me, but I assumed that someone was observing if I needed help finding a chair.
I felt a sense of pride and satisfaction that I had used a simple device to solve a simple problem. We often get caught up by the idea that we need complex tools to be independent. There is a place for computers, phones, screen readers, Braille displays, and any other technological devices we may use daily. I would encourage anyone to use a cane and think about ways they can be creative while traveling. Never feel ashamed to use a cane. It does not matter what a sighted person thinks or, more accurately perhaps, what we fear they think. Every time I attend a chapter meeting of the National Federation of the Blind, I hear people using a cane and know they are living the lives they want. I appreciate the value the National Federation of the Blind places on independence by making slates, styli, and canes available to anyone free of charge.
by Glenn Crosby
From the Editor: Glenn Crosby is now a senior, and he has earned it. If there has been a job to do, whether locally, statewide, or nationally, Glen has been the man. A longtime state president and board member, he has now been elected to focus on blind seniors while at the same time being the kind of support for Norma, his wife and affiliate president, as she has been for him. Here is his report about the latest life-changing activity of the Senior Division:
During the week of February 11-17, the National Federation of the Blind Seniors Division hosted its annual Senior Retreat. This year’s event was virtual, and we had presentations by Federation leaders nationwide. Topics included cooking, cane travel, home organization and repair, the importance of Braille, and more. Thirty-two blind seniors participated, and we already have reports that they are using what they learned to become more independent and to begin the process of reclaiming their ability to live the lives they want.
As just one example following the retreat, we got an email informing us that one of the retreat participants was starting to use what he had learned to get back into baking. Here is that email. The subject line was “Ricky Made Cookies!”
Today, he used Seeing AI to read the baking directions, FaceTime to call his oldest sister to help him set the oven temperature, and baked his wife a tray of chocolate chip cookies while she was away at work. He used some of the new skills he learned this week. Oven mitts are one of them! He said he had not baked anything in years!
His wife was stunned and impressed. She loved the cookies. He just used Sweet Martha’s frozen cookie dough balls. He is standing taller today! Thanks, NFB
—Linda
Since receiving this email, we have had additional correspondence with Linda. She tells us that Ricky is visiting his daughter and grandkids, and that he has taken a tactile tic-tac-toe game and some sleep shades so he can play with his grandchildren. He has also taken a muffin tin and tennis balls so he can work on beginning Braille.
The retreat only lasts for a week, but the work our division does during the retreat and throughout the year makes a profound difference in the lives of the seniors we serve. If you don’t believe it, just ask Ricky.
Attending my first National Convention in Orlando, Florida, I was overwhelmed by not only the resources, mentorship, and national community of students, but the love that filled every corner of the organization. The National Federation of the Blind gave me the world. —Trisha
Blind children, students, and adults are making powerful strides in education and leadership every day across the United States, but we need to continue helping students like Trisha. For more than eighty years, the National Federation of the Blind has worked to transform the dreams of hundreds of thousands of blind people into reality. With support from individuals like you, we can continue to provide powerful programs and critical resources now and for decades to come. We hope you will plan to be a part of our enduring movement by including the National Federation of the Blind in your charitable giving and in your estate planning. It is easier than you think.
With your help, the NFB will continue to:
Below are just a few of the many tax-deductible ways you can show your support of the National Federation of the Blind.
By visiting the menu, choosing Donate, and selecting the National Federation of the Blind, you commit to giving to the National Federation of the Blind with each ride.
We accept donated vehicles, including cars, trucks, boats, motorcycles, or recreational vehicles. Just call 855-659-9314 toll-free, and a representative can make arrangements to pick up your donation. We can also answer any questions you have.
General donations help support the ongoing programs of the NFB and the work to help blind people live the lives they want. You can call 410-659-9314, extension 2430, to give by phone. Give online with a credit card or through the mail with check or money order. Visit our online contribution page at: https://nfb.org/donate.
Through the Pre-Authorized Contribution (PAC) program, supporters sustain the efforts of the National Federation of the Blind by making recurring monthly donations by direct withdrawal of funds from a checking account or a charge to a credit card. To enroll, call 877-NFB-2PAC, or fill out our PAC Donation Form https://www.nfb.org/pac.
The National Federation of the Blind legacy society, our Dream Makers Circle, honors and recognizes the generosity and imagination of members and special friends who have chosen to leave a legacy through a will or other planned giving option. You can join the Dream Makers Circle in a myriad of ways.
You can specify that a percentage or a fixed sum of your assets or property goes to the National Federation of the Blind in your will, trust, pension, IRA, life insurance policy, brokerage account, or other accounts.
You can name the National Federation of the Blind as the beneficiary on a Payable on Death (POD) account through your bank. You can turn any checking or savings account into a POD account. This is one of the simplest ways to leave a legacy. The account is totally in your control during your lifetime and you can change the beneficiary or percentage at any time with ease.
If you do decide to create or revise your will, consider the National Federation of the Blind as a partial beneficiary.
Visit our Planned Giving webpage (https://www.nfb.org/get-involved/ways-give/planned-giving) or call 410-659-9314, extension 2422, for more information.
In 2023 our supporters helped the NFB:
Just imagine what we will do in 2024, and, with your help, what can be accomplished for years to come. Together with love, hope, determination, and your support, we will continue to transform dreams into reality.
by Michael Hingson
From the Editor: Michael has a message that he transmits every chance he gets, and each new experience gives him that chance. Michael has lived a life full of experience from being a physicist who worked on the Kurzweil Reading Machine and then to a career in finance that found him coming down from his seventy-eighth floor office on September 11. What is most important to me is that this man has consistently chosen to be a part of us, even after his training, natural aptitude, and motivation could have let him sell himself as a very exceptional blind person. But he is unabashedly one of us, and he still wants to change the world so that it better understands who we are and we too come to share that understanding. Here is what he says:
Before getting to the crux of this article, let me briefly explain why I wrote it. In March, 2023, I happened to be at a hotel in Los Angeles with my niece and nephew. As we walked down the stairs toward the first floor about 3:00 p.m. on a sunny Saturday afternoon, suddenly I heard most people on the first floor begin to scream and panic. My niece, being very used to me did not panic. When I asked her what was going on she said that the hotel and the surrounding area had just lost power. My niece told me that people were scrambling trying to find smart phones and flashlights so that they could get light again even though there was plenty of sunlight streaming in from outside.
As I thought about this later, I realized just how dependent sighted people really are on having direct light on demand. I realized that in reality the people who panicked in the hotel and most sighted people have their own disability. What follows contains the results of my thinking and why I believe it is high time that we reframe the definition of “disability.”
In a world that often classifies people based on what they can or can't do, let's rethink the term "disability" and look at it in a new, more inclusive light. Instead of seeing it as a lack of ability, let's embrace it as a unique characteristic we all share, manifesting in various ways.
To embark on this journey of understanding, it's important to recognize that each person has a unique blend of characteristics, abilities, and limitations. By embracing the idea that disability is a part of being human, we can build a society that values diversity and promotes inclusivity.
Let's consider the concept of light dependence, not just for individuals who are sighted but for everyone. Thomas Edison's invention of the electric light was more than just a technological breakthrough; it responded to a fundamental characteristic we all share—our reliance on light.
Sighted individuals, relying on eyesight, are fundamentally dependent on light. Edison's electric light wasn't about superiority; it highlighted a unique manifestation of a universal characteristic. This light dependence is hidden in our daily lives, especially with the prevalence of artificial lighting, making it easy for sighted individuals to navigate seamlessly.
Acknowledging this shared "disability" prompts us to reconsider how we perceive abilities and limitations. When we realize that everyone, regardless of their abilities, has inherent characteristics that might be considered disabilities in certain contexts, we lay the foundation for empathy, understanding, and unity.
This new definition encourages empathy and understanding among individuals with diverse characteristics. Instead of perpetuating a hierarchy of abilities, we can appreciate the unique contributions each person brings to the human experience.
Consider individuals who are blind or have low vision, facing challenges in a sight-oriented society. Acknowledging that both sighted and blind individuals share the characteristic of light dependence, albeit in different ways, helps break down the barriers that divide us.
Embracing this new definition opens the door to a more inclusive society, where diversity is celebrated, and everyone's contributions are valued. It challenges the notion that disability is a rare exception and positions it as an integral part of the human experience.
The goal shifts from accommodating perceived differences to creating environments that consider and embrace the diverse characteristics inherent in all individuals. It's about creating a world that accommodates the full spectrum of human characteristics, from physical spaces to inclusive design principles in technology.
Changing the definition of disability requires a shift in perspective, moving away from viewing differences as deficiencies and toward recognizing the shared characteristics that connect us. This transformative perspective empowers individuals with disabilities by emphasizing their abilities, contributions, and unique strengths.
Understanding disability as a universal characteristic challenges stigmas associated with perceived limitations. It prompts us to rethink the language we use, replacing terms that reinforce negative stereotypes with inclusive and empowering expressions. For example, persons who have little or no eyesight are often referred to as “visually impaired.” The very fact that the word “impaired” is often included in describing these individuals implies that they are less than persons with full eyesight. If we replace “visually impaired” with “blind or low vision” we take a major step toward recognizing that having, or not having, a dependence on light to live and function does not represent an impairment or lack of one. Instead removing “impaired” from a description of a person who is blind or who has low vision helps level the playing field and helps to influence all of us not to view a lack of eyesight as anything other than a particular characteristic that some people manifest.
In conclusion, by redefining disability as an inherent characteristic, we move towards a more compassionate and inclusive understanding of the human experience. Recognizing that everyone carries their own set of characteristics that might be considered disabilities in specific contexts breaks down artificial barriers and allows us to celebrate our shared humanity.President, National Federation of the Blind at the Banquet of the Annual Convention
Louisville, Kentucky, July 3, 2003
From the Editor: In this and several recent issues, there are recurring themes that emerge. One of them is taking responsibility for making a life when all that has been granted is existence. One is determining the right we have to demand admission and accessibility and to determine when it is being given because it is required and when it is being given because we are acknowledged as normal and capable. Then there is the issue of our worth as human beings: When it comes to resource allocation, how much are we worth? When those with the power to make decisions think about quality of life, how are we assessed? To put it as President Riccobono might, do they have anything like a truly authentic view of what it is to be a blind person?
In this stellar speech, Immediate Past President Maurer addresses in a way that few could the ways in which these questions are asked and the Federation’s way of addressing the answers. For those of you who have not heard or read this speech before, take the time to enjoy the message found in every sentence. For those of us who were there when the speech was given, enjoy the memory and the opportunity to appreciate that the work we do is no game; it is as serious as any work we are likely to encounter in this life. Here is the address:
The velvet black of the night sky bedight with jeweled stars beckoned;
The ever-changing rivulets among the waves along the shore reflected the dancing flashes of sunlight;
The enthusiastic restless breakers summoned the shore-bound to come a-roving.
The dappled shadows almost concealed the water nymph, who winked at the sojourner across the rippling rapids.
The captains came marching to open new countries, explore unknown frontiers, establish trade routes.
The blind man quietly waited;
He did not see the flashing sun, the wink of the water nymph, the beckoning stars.
He waited.
Others told him, when they were not too busy, of the far frontiers; of mighty commerce; of the beauty of sun, sky, and stars.
He waited.
And when the waiting was ended, he was old.
Such is one summation of blindness, which even today constitutes the thinking of many members of the general public, some people in the field of work with the blind, and a few blind people themselves. This summation has no harsh criticism of the blind; no suggestion of cruelty toward us; no obnoxious restriction on our behavior, our activity, or our livelihood. Nevertheless, the depiction is completely erroneous and totally false. In one sense it is more devastating than harshness or cruelty because it contains an implied gentleness toward the blind, who are permitted to wait, and because within it is an assumption that we are irrelevant—that we have nothing to contribute—that we are without hope, without spirit, without an irrepressible internal driving force. Exploration, romance, and adventure are for somebody else—not for the blind. Beauty may be observed in the heavens, the sea, or a woodland glade, but none of this is for us. We are relegated to a closed set of experiences which are determined by somebody else. The exhortation, though kindly meant, is as restrictive as an iron band. It is to wait; always to wait.
In 1652 John Milton wrote a poem about his blindness. The most famous line of this poem, which has ever since been regarded as reflecting a proper humility, is, "They also serve who only stand and wait." Of course this line was written 350 years ago; matters must have changed since then. My own experience demonstrates that, despite the advances we have made (and we have made many of them), blind people are often asked to wait. Much of the time we are told to wait for somebody else to get us something, for somebody else to show us where we are to go, for somebody else to invite us to participate in activities in our communities. We are encouraged to believe that the waiting is valuable—if not a high ideal. In 1863 Henry Wadsworth Longfellow wrote, "All things come round to him who will but wait." However, Longfellow did not have the extensive experience that we possess. If waiting is the coin that must be paid for all things that can come round, the blind should have such blessings in abundance.
We must have understanding for the goodwill that we encounter, and we must exercise politeness because this is the attitude that promotes growth in civilized society. But we must not forfeit our right to self-determination. No amount of politeness requires the blind to wait for somebody else to make our decisions for us. If we were to take this course, the waiting might continue indefinitely. In 1825, Lord Macaulay warned of the danger inherent in this method of thought. He said: “Many politicians of our time are in the habit of laying it down as a self-evident proposition that no people ought to be free till they are fit to use their freedom. The maxim is worthy of the fool in the old story, who resolved not to go into the water till he had learnt to swim. If men are to wait for liberty till they become wise and good in slavery, they may indeed wait forever.”
Thus spoke Lord Macaulay, and what he said of the generality of individuals is equally applicable to the blind. There may be some who will call us precipitant. Be it so. Some will think us rash. This cannot be helped. A few will proclaim us to be nothing short of radical or militant. Let them call names if they like; our lives are on the line, and we will live them to the fullest. As the spirit of our Federation has made abundantly clear, we will seize the liberty that is our right; we will not defer; we will not delay; we are no longer prepared to wait.
The notion that blind people should wait suggests that we do not have the same capacity as others and that somebody else should supervise our actions. It implies that we are inferior to the sighted.
If blindness means a fundamental diminution of ability, the blind should be content to receive support and assistance, and they should recognize that waiting is part of the process. If, however, the blind possess all of the capacity of the general public except the ability to use vision, it is fair to expect as much from the blind as from the sighted. It is also necessary to demand of society that blind people be accepted on terms of equality.
To illustrate certain factors that have an impact on the lives of the blind, consider a fanciful analogy. If all mature human beings who are taller than six feet two inches in height were regarded as less capable than those of shorter stature, there would be an immediate and dramatic classification along the lines of physical size. Short people would be favored, and tall people would be shunned. Growth inhibitors would be sold to prevent the development of excessive height. High heels would no longer be the fashion.
Benevolent societies would be initiated to offer counseling and comfort to the unfortunate tall. Special places would be set aside where these folk could interact with one another out of the sight of their superiors, the short. Homes for the tall would be established in which the tall could live without being constantly reminded of their deformity. Fundraising drives would be undertaken to reduce the disadvantages of financial want for the lanky and to provide adequate funding to pay the administrators of institutions for the tall. Probably, in the course of time, specialized laws would be established to prevent unreasonable exploitation of the tall. Certain trades of a simple and repetitive nature with a suitably modest financial return (the tall trades) would offer the tall meaningful occupations. Orientation classes would be constructed to teach the tall techniques for managing their awkward and ungainly frames.
Eventually an entire structure of agencies to provide service to the tall would be established, and an association of individuals involved in the field of rehabilitation for the tall would come into being. Most of the members of this association would be normal—not drawn from the ranks of the tall. However, occasionally an almost normal person, a member of the tall with a small enough stature to pass for normal, would be allowed to join. This would demonstrate appropriate concern for including the views of the tall. But of course the majority of the members of the association would be short and would possess high-powered degrees from accredited universities with programs established to train the professionals in the proper methods for providing instruction to the tall. These charitably inclined instructors of the tall would interpret the needs of their clients to the public and would minister to the wants of the disadvantaged minority.
The instructors would also serve on the President's Committee for the Employment of the Tall and other entities established for the benefit of the group. After several decades of exploration and professional development with appropriate scholarly examination of the psychological impact of being tall in a society established by and operated for the short, there would be an adequate understanding of the specialized problems faced by the tall, and all that would remain for the professionals to accomplish would be the refinement of the tools and techniques of the profession.
Of course there would be a need to assure quality standards within the ranks of the professionals in service to the tall, and standard-setting bodies would be created. The tall would be rigidly excluded from consideration of such standards except now and then as a matter of tokenism. This would be done to ensure the high quality of programming for the tall. As administrators of programs for the tall would observe, to invite the tall to assist in determining standards for the programs that serve them would be equivalent to asking patients in the hospital to design medical procedures.
But suppose that the tall examined their condition and disagreed with the classification assigned to them. Suppose they argued that the assumption of inferiority had been based on false premises—that the length of one's body is no determiner of mental capacity or of other characteristics that make a human being productive. They might come together in a national organization to protest the arbitrary determination of inability that had been imposed. They might petition the government for a change in status. They might conduct public campaigns to alter the way they were perceived by the members of the public at large. They might attempt to have laws adopted that guaranteed their right to live in the world on an equal basis with others. They might proclaim their determination to speak on their own behalf. They might insist on the fundamental equality of the tall. They might reject the assertion that the length of their bodies made them awkward and ungainly. They might decide to abandon the homes and retreats for the tall, asserting as they left them that they intended to be accepted within society, not isolated from it. They might declare with unmistakable vigor that they would decide for themselves what their lives would be. In the process of coming to this understanding, the tall would say to certain of the administrators of programs established to meet their needs, "You have offered what you believe is kindness to us, but your kindness has included condescension and the attempt to hold us in bondage. You have treated us like children, but we reject your comprehension of our ability, and we insist that we be accepted as your equals. Your assumptions are not ours. You have said that you will interpret our lives for us, but this can no longer be done. If you will work with us, we will welcome you in partnership. But you will no longer dominate our existence because we will not permit it."
From such a declaration conflict would probably erupt. Administrators of programs for the tall (or, at least some of them) would regard the obstreperous malcontents as ungrateful and would tell the members of the general public that these upstarts were seeking to grab power—were attempting to dictate to agency administrators. Undaunted by these attacks, the members of the organized tall movement would build their own programs for training the tall and would find adherents among officials in the ranks of those in work for the tall. After a period of confrontation, greater harmony and cooperation than had previously existed would emerge in the field of work for the tall.
With growing cooperation and increasing harmony, the tall and administrators of programs for the tall (an increasing number of them drawn from the ranks of the tall themselves) would begin to wonder why there had ever been any conflict.
Is this an apt analogy? Some will deny it. How can the physical height of a human being reasonably be compared to blindness? Height is no barrier to employment or social acceptance, they will say. However, consider no less an authority than the military of the United States. A height requirement has sometimes been imposed on applicants who seek to serve as fighter pilots. The planes were small, the story goes, and nobody taller than five feet six inches would be accepted.
The philosopher Francis Bacon has also added his weight of opinion. "Wise nature [he said] did never put her precious jewels into a garret four stories high; and therefore ... exceeding tall men had ever very empty heads." No social stigma? No impact on employment? Don't you believe it! At times the tall have been an oppressed minority.
But what of the blind? What have we done, and how have we fared since the time of the founding of our movement at Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania, in 1940? When the National Federation of the Blind came into existence, the task before us was monumental. Blind men and women were almost completely without jobs except in a few sheltered workshops and a small number of vending stands. Education existed for some at the school for the blind but rarely beyond. Participation in the broader activities of the community was almost unknown. Public aid to the blind programs had been established in a number of states, but these were often interpreted in the most restrictive way. Our founder, Dr. Jacobus tenBroek, himself was informed shortly after he graduated from high school that public assistance would not be available to him if he attempted to enroll at the University of California.
The Books for the Blind program had come into being in the Library of Congress in the early 1930s. State programs for the blind had been initiated in many places, but rehabilitation was largely rudimentary and often unavailable. Despite these dismal prospects, or more likely because of them, Dr. Jacobus tenBroek and a handful of others brought the Federation into being. It was an act of hope and faith, and it began a national movement that has for more than six decades been encouraging the blind to recognize their own capacity and to act upon this understanding. In one sense we who make up the organized blind movement are not what we were at the time of our founding. There are more of us; we have become better organized; we have gathered more resources; and we have more experience. In another sense the Federation has not changed for all of the decades of its expansion and growth. It is composed of the blind, and we have the same dreams, the same dedication, the same history, and the same purpose as those who have preceded us. Furthermore, we very often face the same dangers, and we are required to exhibit the same determination and the same courage.
In 1940 the cruelty to the blind that had been permitted in former times was no longer acceptable. Part of our heritage tells us that in Roman times blind infants were exposed on the hills to die. Later, blind women were sold into slavery, and in the medieval period blind men were exhibited at country fairs dressed in donkeys' ears. They were made to fight each other for the amusement of the crowd. Blindman's buff is a vestige of the game. One person is blindfolded while others jostle, prod, and poke the blinded one, who is supposed to try to catch them. The "buff" is a slap on the rump, probably shortened from the word "buffet."
The cruelty that was once associated with blindness is brought to mind because, despite all of the progress we have made, there are still those who would deny us our fundamental rights and who would assert their domination over us.
Dan W. Brock, who claims to be a medical bioethicist, has written an article entitled "Health Care Resource Prioritization and Discrimination against Persons with Disabilities," published as part of a book issued in the year 2000 with the title Americans with Disabilities: Exploring Implications of the Law for Individuals and Institutions. In his paper Brock says that, if medical resources are scarce, they should be used to enhance the lives of those who are most likely to have the best quality of life. Quality is defined by Brock. He assumes that any disabled person will necessarily suffer a life with less quality than the nondisabled. Hence, if there is one procedure to give, the able-bodied applicant should get it. Brock does not explain why the life of an able-bodied person contains more quality than the life of a disabled person. He assumes that because individuals seek to avoid disabilities, this is an objective measure of quality, which can be applied to all life.
Of course, other characteristics might be inserted in Brock's so-called objective analysis. For example, many people seek chocolate. Those who do believe that the absence of chocolate is a disadvantage. The chocolate-deprived have a lower quality of life than the chocolate-fulfilled. According to Brock's so-called objective analysis, the chocolate-fulfilled (probably fatter than the chocolate-deprived) should receive scarce medical procedures because of their superior quality of life. I suspect Brock would quibble with this analysis, but it is based upon his own approach.
There is one term in Brock's writing which has a pseudo-scientific appearance. It is QALY, which stands for Quality Adjusted Life Year. Here, in part, is what Brock says:
Suppose two patients, of whom one is blind but who are otherwise similar, each need a lifesaving organ transplant, and there is only one available organ. Should the disability and lower health-related quality of life of the blind patient, which will result in fewer QALYs produced if she receives the transplant, give her lower priority for the transplant? Many would say it should not, and so, presumably, does the ADA [Americans with Disabilities Act]. Since one individual would prefer an outcome where she survives in full health to one where she survives blind, we can grant that in this respect the former is a better outcome.
Brock assumes that the possession of the capacity to see makes the seeing life qualitatively better than the one without sight. He claims that the lower quality of life of a blind person indicates that from an objective point of view health care benefits should be reserved for the sighted.
It is not surprising that Brock also believes the fetuses of babies who are likely to be born with disabilities should be aborted. In other words, kill the blind while they are in the womb. If you can't kill them before they're born, withhold treatment afterward. While you're at it, tell people that this is being done in the name of ethics and fairness and impartiality and improving the quality of life. What a shameful display of presumption, arrogance, and ignorance.
Brock also tells us that the disabled require specialized services, that the money for specialized services could have been spent on the able-bodied, and that the able-bodied have a better quality of life than the disabled. Therefore, to maximize quality of life, give the money to the able-bodied and eliminate programs for the disabled. If programs for the disabled are to be tolerated, the only justification for them (according to Brock) is the kindness and generosity of the public.
The assessment of diminished quality of life is made by Brock, who tells us that he knows more about the quality of our lives than we do. The value of specialized training for the disabled is determined by Brock, who tells us that he knows more about its effectiveness than we do. The claim of moral superiority is that of Brock, who asserts his right to decide what system will be used to justify our future and our very existence. After telling us that we do not deserve it, Brock says that he will permit us to work and travel and live as a matter of kindness.
Brock may think that he can interpret our lives and specify our futures, but he is wrong! We the blind have something to say about what happens to us. We will meet him in the lecture halls, in the pages of scholarly journals, in the corridors of Congress, and (if necessary) we will meet him in the streets! We will do battle for ourselves and for those who come after us. Let anybody who doubts this determination come to our convention tonight. We will not let anybody belittle us, bamboozle us, or betray us. Brock is not the deciding factor; we the organized blind of the United States fill that role. If Brock recognizes the quality that is within us, we will permit him to have a voice in affairs affecting our lives. If he does not, he may turn his attention to any other field of endeavor for which his limited capabilities make him qualified. We demand the liberty that is our right. We will accept nothing less than full equality, and we will not defer; we will not delay; we are simply no longer prepared to wait.
Are blind people fatter than sighted people? Do we eat more than our sighted neighbors? Such speculation has inspired much debate. Blind people, it is argued, are more sedentary than others—after all, we are often told to wait. Sports are often for sighted people—baseball, basketball, football, and volleyball. Tastebuds (some people say) are enhanced in the blind because the brainpower which might have been used for seeing is assigned to other sensory organs. The enhanced sense of taste tempts the blind to eat. With these factors influencing the lives of the blind, are blind people fatter than sighted people?
An article appearing in the October 2002 issue of Prevention magazine provides the following:
In a recent Swedish study subjects ate 22 percent less food when they were blindfolded, but they felt just as full as usual (Obesity Research, Feb 2002). So taking vision out of the picture may work in your weight loss favor.
Without the sense of sight [continues Prevention], you are forced to rely on internal signals of satisfaction from your stomach and brain. Most of us normally rely on external cues—an empty plate, the end of a TV show, or the bottom of the bag—to tell us when we're full.
That is what Prevention magazine said. The blindfolded get full faster than those who can see what they're eating—22 percent faster. Probably we also save money on groceries. Blindness, apparently, has hidden advantages. According to Prevention, because we're blind, we're also slim.
Another peculiar portrayal alleges that we who are blind have lost our sexuality. In an article entitled "Folklore of Blindness" by A. Wagner-Lampl and G.W. Oliver, which appeared in the May-June, 1994, issue of the Journal of Visual Impairment and Blindness, the writers tell us that castration and blindness are equivalent. They cite Sigmund Freud's analysis of the ancient Greek play Oedipus Rex as evidence.
The equation of blindness and castration [these authors tell us] is also shown in the Irish myth in which prisoners are given the choice between emasculation and being blinded. Many blind men and women who are in counseling report feeling generally impotent and castrated and find themselves being treated by others as though they were asexual.
So state these authors. As I think about what they have said, I wonder how many blind people they have met. I don't want to be personal about these things, but is this the way you feel? My observation tells me that blind people are as bold, as charming, as intriguing, and as sexy as anybody else. Those who believe that we have been emasculated have something to learn. We will handle such matters with the discretion they demand, but we will handle them, and we will take second place to nobody. We have within us excitement, romance, and the capacity for love, and we will not permit these virtues to be unrecognized. This, too, is part of what must and will be ours!
In 1987, as I came to our banquet table for the first time as President of the Federation, I reported to you about the Mary Bryant Home for Blind Men and Women in Springfield, Illinois. The administrator of the home, Frances Trees, had sent a letter to directors of rehabilitation agencies to try to drum up business for the home. Included with the letter was a packet of information describing the home and its services. A portion of the letter reads as follows:
Dear Director:
As you are aware, there comes a time in the lives of many visually impaired persons when they are unable to live independently. Some younger persons return to their homes following their education from a school for the visually impaired. In many cases these young men and women are returning to homes where both parents are employed outside the home and find themselves staying alone all day with nothing to do.
The Mary Bryant Home is a resource I wish you would consider when it comes to assisting individuals or families to deal with the issue of placement. Currently our residents range in age from twenty-four to ninety-six years of age.
Sincerely,
Frances J. Trees
Administrator
The nature of the resource represented by the Mary Bryant Home is described in the material which accompanied the letter. Here is part of the description:
The home is arranged for convenience, on one level—no stairs. Handrails are installed throughout the home. Our full and part-time staff provide round-the-clock service to the residents seeing to their health, safety, nutritional, recreational, and emotional needs. Leave of absence may be taken by residents for a short period of time providing the person taking the resident out signs a release of responsibility for injuries, accidents, or illnesses which might occur during the time they are away from the Mary Bryant Home.
[I interrupt to wonder what would happen if the resident wanted to leave the Mary Bryant Home unaccompanied. What would happen if the resident did not have somebody available to sign a release of responsibility? Apparently this kind of independent action is not permitted. But back to the information from the home.]
Personal property, other than clothing, may be brought to the home only with the prior approval of the Administrator. Food is prohibited in the resident rooms. Beer, wine, and other intoxicating liquors: Only when approved by the resident's physician please, and all items of this nature are to be kept at the Medicine Room, not in resident's room. Incoming calls for residents may be received on the house phones, but it would cause less confusion and less interruption if these calls were to be made between the hours of 1:00 p.m. and 4:30 p.m.
As I said in 1987, there is much more that might be said about the Mary Bryant Home, but this is enough to make the point. For the blind, independence of action cannot be found at the Mary Bryant Home; for the blind, there is no future. Decisions are made not by the blind but by the administrator.
Not long after our 1987 convention, I received a letter from the parents of twin blind women who were residents at the Mary Bryant Home. Here is part of it:
We have in our possession the Braille Monitor regarding an address delivered by Marc Maurer, President of the National Federation of the Blind at a banquet of the annual convention in Phoenix, Arizona, July 2, 1987.
We are in agreement in this article that some blind people can and should achieve academically and to their greatest capabilities. However, when they are not able to do so, other arrangements must be made. Therefore, we as parents of twin blind daughters appreciate the fact there are homes available for such situations.
When we were faced with the fact that it was time that we should be making some kind of arrangements for our twins, who were thirty-two years old, and we might add, they realized a home was to be found for their particular needs, we were very fortunate and greatly impressed with the Mary Bryant Home.
One of our daughters chose to go live at the home very soon and has been there since May 1986. However, our other daughter did not make a decision until after spending a three-week period there while we were on vacation. It was then she chose to make the move in December 1986.
We, and our daughters, have a deep respect for the rules at this home, for they have their independence but also are well taken care of.
[I interrupt to ask what kind of independence do you believe can be found at the Mary Bryant Home? The parents leave us in no doubt. Here is what they say.]
It is our opinion this home certainly meets the requirements of our daughters' needs. There is freedom to attend church of their choice, join the choirs, participate in community affairs as well as many activities at the home.
In closing, it is our hope that a retraction of the statement made against the Mary Bryant Home and Mrs. Frances Trees would be in order for the purpose it serves for those who desperately need help.
Sincerely,
The letter from the parents of these blind women says that there are blind people who desperately need help. I believe the need is desperate, but it is not what these parents believe it to be. When I checked a few weeks ago, these twin blind women were still at the Mary Bryant Home; still subject to the rules and requirements, arrangements and restrictions; still told when they can come, and when they can leave; still forced to have somebody else assume responsibility for them whenever they wish to be taken out of the home; still prohibited from having food or drink in their rooms; still expected to make their phone calls between 1:00 and 4:30 p.m. But of course the blind women can attend a church of their choice and can sing in the choir.
The twin blind women who became inmates of the Mary Bryant Home in 1986 have been waiting for an opportunity to gain independence for almost two decades. The tragedy of their lives speaks loudly to me because, during the same year that they entered the home, I was first elected President of the National Federation of the Blind. I have participated in the growth of our organization and the expansion of our activities during the years that these women have waited. We have heard from their parents, and we have heard from the administrator of the home, but we have not heard from the twin sisters because they have been convinced that others should speak and act on their behalf and that their role is to wait. In their case the waiting might continue forever.
The impact of such restrictions, no matter how kindly meant, can be devastating. Some years ago I received a letter from a former employee of a different home which says, in part:
I don't know if you can help, but I don't know who to turn to. I know a woman who is blind and living in a group home. I have been told that blindness is her only disability and that before living in the group home she led herself with a cane and could talk. Now she does not talk and is completely withdrawn. She has been in the group home for several years and has been allowed to slip farther and farther into her darkness. She has little stimulation and has been allowed to completely withdraw from the rest of the world.
I am not a relative, so I don't know how I can help her. I am just someone who used to work in the group home. I had tried to get the supervisors to take an interest in her specific needs and to find ways to stimulate her and to teach her. I can't keep from wondering how her life could be if she had the attention and training that she has been without for so many years.
Such is the simple and heartfelt plea of one human being seeking assistance to regain hope for another. This plea emphasizes the urgent need for us to reject the demand that we wait interminably for others to decide that there is a future for us. For this blind woman and for all others who have been stashed away in warehouses for the blind without stimulation, without independence, and without hope, we say this: we will give you the spirit of determination and the guts that we have come to know so well in the National Federation of the Blind. There is something better to do with your lives and ours than to move to the home for the blind and wait for life to ebb away in idleness and despair. The lives we have as blind people are as important as any that exist, and we will live them. A life deferred is a life denied, and we cannot tolerate delay. As we experiment with liberty, we will make mistakes, but they will be our mistakes. We will learn from them, and with the increased knowledge we will surmount the challenges that come.
The poets tell us to wait and urge us to believe that there is honor in the waiting. The bioethicists claim that our lives are less important than those of others and that those of us who were blind before birth should have been aborted. Prevention magazine alleges that our appetites change because of our inability to see food. The keepers of the homes for the blind prey upon our lives to keep themselves in business with restrictive rules, and they call their restrictions independence. Such assertions are part of the reality of our lives, but this reality is changing because it cannot withstand the force of our movement. Furthermore, this part of the reality is only a small segment of the whole. The rest of the truth about blindness is upbeat, spirited, and vibrant because we are writing the poetry and creating the music for our own song of liberation. When we come together in our thousands in the organized blind movement, we learn from each other, inspire each other, support each other, and believe in each other.
Dr. tenBroek founded our movement. Before he ceased to lead the Federation, Dr. Kenneth Jernigan had come to be his student, his colleague, his beloved friend. Dr. Jernigan became our beloved leader, and he dreamed of a future for us beyond anything that we could have imagined.
People come to visit the National Center for the Blind from all over the world; the phones ring; and the mail comes pouring in. Coordination of effort occurs with state affiliates, with local chapters, with special interest divisions, with our training centers, and with other programs we have initiated. The National Federation of the Blind Research and Training Institute is rising from the ground and taking shape. Programs to address the special needs of the blind come into being, and future programs are being planned. The number of hands that come to the task is increasing at a rapid rate, and innovation occurs at all levels within the movement.
Dr. Jernigan, the man who established the National Center for the Blind, who took so many of the phone calls, who wrote the articles and edited the books, who traveled from our Center to all parts of the world, and who inspired his colleagues with the beautiful cadence of his voice, comes no more. But the spirit that was his—that spirit which he shared with Dr. tenBroek—is as bright in our midst today as it has ever been, and our determination is as strong. The articles continue to be written; the books continue to be published; the programs continue to be planned; and the message continues to be delivered in our own country and in lands beyond our borders. The message is simple, straightforward, and noncomplex. It is this: we are the blind, and we carry the responsibility for building our own future.
Many come to the task weary and dispirited; they gain strength. Some feel discouragement; they gain faith. Some are overwhelmed and disheartened; they gain hope. When the challenges come, we will surmount them. When the doubters attempt to disparage our cause, we will persuade them. When our detractors tell us that the price of freedom is too great to be paid by the blind, we will demonstrate that we have the capacity to do whatever is required for our own independence. We will not falter or hesitate or diminish our effort. We take the path that we are destined to travel with the spring of gladness in our step and the lilt of laughter in our hearts; and we will prevail. With our imagination, with our courage, with our dedication, and with our determined spirit, we must and will have liberty, and no force on earth can stop us or turn us back. We will not defer; we will not delay; we are no longer prepared to wait. The days ahead belong to us. Come, join me, and we will make it come true!
by David Goldfield
From the Editor: I have lived through what I believe any fair-minded person would consider a special time. For the first fifteen years of my life, no one talked much about and certainly did not have a computer. Why a person would want one was a mystery. So those of us who used Braille wrote our draft school papers on a Perkins Brailler, read it to ourselves or a parent, realized it wasn’t good enough, and wrote a second draft that we hoped would be the final product. Of course, it wasn’t the final product, for those of us in public school had to put it in print so our sighted teachers could read it. When we thought about all of the work that went into those papers, we would take some time out to daydream: what if my teacher could read my latest Braille copy? What if I didn’t have to type it over again, this time on a machine whose output I could not see but would be graded on?
Some ten years after I was out of college, I went to the convention of the National Federation of the Blind, and there was this fellow selling a device that weighed about two pounds that he said would let me type in grade 2 Braille, listen to what I had typed, modify it to make it better, and then send it to a printer where it would be translated from grade 2 Braille into print. It turns out the man who brought that device had no real money of his own, had maxed out his credit cards, and had brought ten machines, which he demonstrated and promptly sold. He knew he was onto something when he left with enough orders to keep him busy for months, and with every happy customer came several more orders. For a time it seemed that blind people had more power on our laps than sighted folks had with their bulky computers, and all of a sudden a document was no longer Braille or print: it was either or both.
David Goldfield has been working in the assistive technology industry for over thirty years. His career began at Blazie Engineering, where he had several key responsibilities: he provided customer support, ensured product quality assurance, and wrote and proofread product documentation. He has also worked for two nonprofit organizations for the blind where he provided computer training to blind children and adults. He worked at Comcast for over seven years providing accessibility testing for the company’s apps and services. He is currently the marketing manager for Blazie Technologies, and this is what he has to say:
Back in 1987, Deane Blazie invented an exciting and revolutionary product called the Braille ‘n Speak. It was a small, compact, and user-friendly computer with a Braille keyboard providing speech output. With that product he created Blazie Engineering, a company many of us still fondly remember. People still miss the Braille ‘n Speak and wish that we had something similar today. Deane Blazie felt the same way and that wish has now come true. He has invented a new product, a new company but with many familiar names from the days of Blazie Engineering who remembered the days when Deane and his staff provided personalized support to its customers by phone as well as by email.
The company’s staff includes some familiar names, including Bryan Blazie as CEO and Deane Blazie who is the company’s Chief Technology Officer. Deane’s other sons, Chris and Stephen, are some of the people providing software development.
The new product is called the BT Speak and is available to order from Blazie Technologies. The BT Speak will be familiar to those who remember the Braille ‘n Speak, but it will be user-friendly for those who don’t. It uses an eight-dot Braille keyboard along with speech output. You can create and edit documents and can even write using UEB or the older EBAE (Grade 2) Braille code. Using familiar chorded commands you’ll be able to insert, delete, as well as cut and paste text. The BT Speak also comes with other applications, including a dictionary, a scientific calculator, and calendar appointment features. In addition, it also contains a desktop mode where you can access powerful PC-style applications including:
by David Houck
From the Editor: David has for almost four decades operated as the executive director of the National Federation of the Blind of South Carolina’s affiliate office. Since he is the only paid staff member, a big part of his job is coordinating the work of volunteers and helping to see that the president and Board of Directors of the affiliate are able to translate their ideas into action. Here is what he has to say about the all-important issue of building the National Federation of the Blind by meeting the needs of blind people:
Please forgive the reference to the book, however, our one-minute message clearly states: The National Federation of the Blind knows that blindness is not the characteristic that defines you or your future. Every day, we raise the expectations of blind people because low expectations create obstacles between blind people and our dreams. You can live the life you want; blindness is not what holds you back.
Affiliates, chapters, divisions, and committees should take stock and challenge each other as to how high our expectations are. Do you ask the following questions?
When we get into a rut, the longer we stay in it, the harder it is to get out of it. When we look at activities just thinking about what we get out of it, we lose sight of the fact that instead we should be asking what are our fellow blind getting out of it? We get more out of what we do when our activities are designed to recruit and help teach others what we have already learned. Satisfaction is derived from seeing the change in others who also want to live the life they want. Of course, we want to get something out of the meetings, conferences, seminars, and conventions we attend. We must continue to learn and grow as well. But it is important that we grow and share in order to help others. This is how we grow the Federation by enlarging our outreach and giving others the hope we have been able to enjoy.
Capital Chapter Elections:
At the March 16, 2024, meeting of the Capital Chapter of the NFB of New Jersey, the following members were elected to the indicated offices: President, Mary Jo Partyka; Vice President, Marian Lee; Secretary, David Mostello; Treasurer, John Lipton Jr. Board members elected were Jocelyn Santiago and Jim Byrnes.
The Blind Canadian Magazine Available:
The Blind Canadian is the flagship publication of the Canadian Federation of the Blind (CFB). It covers events and activities of the CFB, addresses issues we face as blind people, and highlights our members. The Blind Canadian:
To read issues of the magazine, go to the Blind Canadian page where the magazine is available in both pdf and web versions at www.cfb.ca.
The Value of NFB-NEWSLINE® in Keeping up with the World:
Joe works in the assistive technology field. He extensively uses NFB-NEWSLINE® to keep up to date on all the latest innovations in both mainstream and assistive technology. Joe says, “I am grateful to NFB-NEWSLINE® for providing access to such mainstream publications as AppleInsider, Macworld, and Wired. Having access to these publications helps me to stay up to date in my vocational field. I prefer using a refreshable Braille display with the iOS app to read these publications. Since I always have my iPhone with me, it makes accessing these publications quick and easy. I can read them on the bus as I travel to and from work. I appreciate the ease and portability of using the iOS app to access NFB-NEWSLINE®.”
Notices and information in this section may be of interest to Monitor readers. We are not responsible for the accuracy of the information; we have edited only for space and clarity.
News Release
US Department of Labor | March 21, 2024
US Department of Labor unveils new resource to increase competitive integrated employment for people with disabilities
Offers practical guidance, policy information, evidence-based best practices
WASHINGTON—The US Department of Labor today introduced a new resource aimed at boosting the participation of people with disabilities in competitive integrated employment.
The Competitive Integrated Employment Transformation Hub brings together resources from across the federal government to provide practical guidance, policy information, and evidence-based best practices for people with disabilities, their families, employers, employment service providers, and state agencies. Competitive integrated employment ensures that people with disabilities are paid competitive wages and work in environments where the majority of employees do not have disabilities.
“A large and dedicated movement across America is working to advance a competitive integrated employment model in our workplaces, and we want to give them easy access to resources that will help them succeed,” said Assistant Secretary for Disability Employment Policy Taryn M. Williams. “Families and workers need guidance on benefits planning and wraparound services, for instance. Providers need technical assistance to adapt their service delivery models. State agencies need information about funding options. Employers need support regarding accommodations and inclusive policies and practices. The Competitive Integrated Employment Transformation Hub is a central tool they can all rely on for help.”
The hub is part of the Office of Disability Employment Policy's broader effort to promote competitive integrated employment. Through various innovative initiatives, ODEP collaborates with federal partners, states, and employment service providers to enhance opportunities for people with disabilities to participate and excel in competitive integrated employment.
These initiatives align with the Biden-Harris administration’s commitment to a whole-of-government approach to enhance the economic security of disabled people, including those from historically underserved communities. Additionally, the hub contributes to the administration’s Good Jobs Initiative, offering essential information to workers, employers, and government entities focused on improving job quality and ensuring universal access to good jobs.
The Braille Circulating Library Has Large Print Books:
The Large Print section of the Braille Circulating Library recently has grown with the addition of two complete fictional series and a new standalone fictional book!
Enjoy the Song of Acadia series by popular Christian authors Janette Oke and T. Davis Bunn. From the first meeting of two young women who live in French and British settlements in mid-18th century Canada, you’re sure to be caught up in their lives as they navigate that unsettled period in North American history.
Read about the aspirations of American-born children of Norwegian immigrants and how they chaff against both the dreams of parents and the norms of society in the late 1890s. In this three-book series, Return to Red River, Lauraine Snelling draws readers into the lives of her engaging characters as they struggle through historical realities that faced many immigrant families of that time.
The Orchard, by popular writer of Amish fiction, Beverly Lewis, has also been added to the large print shelves. In this story, Lewis weaves the backdrop of the 1970s war years into her fictional Amish community. Find out what affect the social tensions of that era had on the lives of its people.
Join the Braille Circulating Library to receive Christian and inspirational material in Braille, large print, cassette, or MP3 formats. Contact can be made either by calling (804) 359-3743, sending an email to [email protected], or going to Braillecirculatinglibrary.org and using the Contact page. Whichever method you choose, we look forward to hearing from you!
I pledge to participate actively in the efforts of the National Federation of the Blind to achieve equality, opportunity, and security for the blind; to support the policies and programs of the Federation; and to abide by its constitution.