Giving Time to NFB Changes Lives

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.