I Am Just a Dad

by Bruce Sexton

From the Editor: It is not uncommon to hear a blind person say that he or she was inspired to become a parent because another blind person demonstrated that it was possible. In this article, Bruce shows that we can inspire other people to become parents, not because they are blind or because we are blind, but simply because we handle the tasks competently.

Bruce currently works for the American Printing House for the Blind and is in charge of its diversity program. He is proud that APH is the largest distributor of educational materials for students in K through twelve in Braille anywhere in the world. Here is what he says about parenthood:

Reflecting on a cherished memory from when my son was about a year old brings a sense of deep fulfillment. At that time, I was living in Cincinnati, Ohio, and I would often take him in the carrier for walks around the neighborhood—just doing what dads do.

Sometimes it was to get my son to nap. Other times it was to pick up takeout for dinner. Once it was to give my partner a break while I put out garage sale signs. But, just like any first-time dad, however, you worry if you’re doing things right, you’re learning how to strap the kid in safely. You’re learning how to pick him up, rotate him onto your back, and then buckle him in. You’re afraid you’ll drop him and break this precious life. But then the more you do it, the better you get. And before you know it, you’re doing it with ease and confidence. But sometimes your brain doesn’t register this until someone comes up to you and comments.

While on a couple of these walks, that’s exactly what happened. Two sighted men approached me on separate occasions. Each shared his own hesitations about entering fatherhood. One man confessed that repeatedly observing my confidence and grace as a parent inspired him to take the chance to have a child. The other complimented my parenting and remarked on my son’s contented demeanor.

These moments were incredibly empowering. They highlighted that my actions, which I considered just part of normal fatherhood, fraught with a lot of preparatory anxiety and struggle, had inspired confidence and aspiration in others. It wasn’t about overcoming my disability in their eyes; it was about excelling in a universally challenging role. The compliments I received were genuinely about parenting skills, making them feel particularly validating and significant. It was a profound reminder that we can inspire others in the most unexpected ways, simply by living our lives authentically—not for being blind, but in this case, for just being a dad. And you know what? For once, it felt good to be inspiring.