by Mary Azatyan-Witmeyer
From the Editor: It is not unusual for Federationists to talk about fighting for our freedom and independence, but in Mary Witmeyer’s case, the battle was more literal than many. The pernicious low expectations that are held by society, and sometimes our own families, translated into legal barriers preventing her from taking full control of her life. I became acquainted with her story through Tim Elder, the president of our California affiliate, who had invited Mary to share it at their 2025 convention. I felt that it was an important story to share with our readers as well, and Mary was gracious enough to agree and to write the following short article. Here is Mary’s story in her own voice:
Imagine turning eighteen, excited to start your life as a young adult, only to discover that your independence is being taken away. That’s exactly what happened to me.
My name is Mary Witmeyer, and this is my story. I was born at just twenty-four weeks. Because of that, I developed retinopathy of prematurity and am blind. I spent several months in the hospital on a ventilator and was adopted by my mother when I was six months old. I have a twin brother, and we grew up together in a household that was often chaotic—there were always children from the foster system coming and going.
When I turned eighteen, my mother told me that I needed to be placed under a conservatorship. For those who don’t know, that means someone else—in this case, my mom—would be legally responsible for all my decisions: medical, financial, educational, even where I lived. I told her I didn’t want that. I knew I was capable of making my own choices. But she said that if I didn’t do what she said, she would kick me out of the house and I’d end up homeless. Terrified of living on the street, I agreed to what she wanted.
The court assigned me a legal representative, but it didn’t feel like he was on my side. He kept framing things in ways that pushed me to agree with my mom, saying things like, “Would you like your mother to help you find a place to live?” I felt trapped and helpless, like no one truly heard me. Everyone seemed to believe that my blindness meant I couldn’t take care of myself. I believe my mom pushed for the conservatorship to maintain control of my Supplemental Security Income (SSI) and other financial benefits.
Then, in the summer of 2022, I attended a summer program at the Colorado Center for the Blind—and I fell in love with it. It was the first time I truly experienced what independence could look like. I knew I had to return. After nearly a year of struggling with California’s vocational rehabilitation system, I finally succeeded in enrolling in the Center’s Independence Training Program (ITP) in August 2023.
A few months into the program, I knew I had to make a decision. If I stayed silent, I’d be sent back to California and right back into the same situation. So I told my story to Julie Deden, the director of the Center. She listened—and more importantly, she believed me. She told me the Center would try to help.
In July 2024, I had the privilege of attending the National Federation of the Blind’s National Convention in Orlando, Florida. There, one of my good friends, Karin Page, introduced me to Tim Elder. He said he’d try to help me—and he did. After a long and emotional process, my conservatorship was officially terminated on March 26, 2025.
I can’t fully express how grateful I am to everyone who helped me along the way. It means more than I can say. Special thanks go to Brett and Eliza, two instructors at the Center who opened their home to me while I work on getting on my feet. Let me be clear—they don’t take care of me. I take care of myself. They’re simply offering support as I transition to full independence.
Without the National Federation of the Blind, I might still be stuck at home, spending my days playing video games and attending a work program where all I did was fold towels. That’s not the life I want. Thanks to the training I received at an NFB training center and the Federation’s help with my legal situation, it is no longer the only life available to me. I now control my own decisions and destiny.
My goals are clear now. I plan to finish my GED and pursue a career in cybersecurity. I’ve always loved technology and video games, and I want to help make them more accessible to blind players like me. My life is just beginning, and if there’s one message I want to share, it’s this: there is help out there if you feel that you don’t have full control of your life. Don’t be afraid to ask for it.