Language and the Future of the Blind

Language and the Future of the Blind

Future Reflections Special Issue1989, Vol. 8 No. 4
(back) (contents)
LANGUAGE AND THE FUTURE OF THE BLIND
An Address Delivered by
MARC MAURER
President, National Federation of the Blind
At the Banquet of the Annual Convention Denver, Colorado, July 8,1989
One of the most powerful instruments for determining
the prospects of an individual, the future
of a social movement, or the development of a
culture is language -- the expression in writing or
speech of human thought. However, there is at
least one theory which maintains that language
possesses its power because the relationship between
thought and speech is very often
misunderstood. According to this thesis these
two (thought and speech) are not separate entities
at all. They are one. Thoughts cannot occur
without being verbalized (either physically or in
the mind), and words cannot be spoken or imagined
without expressing thought. The words
and the thought are the same.
The historian and essayist Thomas Carlyle once
noted that language is not the garment of thought
but the body of it. Modern anthropologists have
advanced the Whorf-Sapir hypothesis, which
declares that all of human culture is fabricated by
language. The poet Percy Bysshe Shelley said
that man was given speech, "and speech created
thought." Samuel Taylor Coleridge observed
that "language is the armory of the human mind,
and at once contains the trophies of its past and
the weapons of its future conquests." Socrates
asserted that language is the guiding spirit of all
human endeavor. "Such as thy words are," he
said, "such will thine affections be; and such as
thine affections will be thy deeds; and such as thy
deeds will be thy life." If the language is
modified, the thought is also altered. If the
thought is shifted, the deed cannot remain the
same. Therefore, to change a pattern of behavior,
we must change the habit of speech.
If this theory is true, patterns of speech are at
least as important to the future of the blind as the
buildings possessed by the agencies, or the
money appropriated for rehabilitation, or the
gadgetry designed to lighten the burden of life for
us. The policy statements, the laws, the public
pronouncements in print and on television, the
scholarly papers of those conducting so-called
"research" into the nature of blindness, the
thought processes of employers and the publicatlarge
(sometimes expressed in words but more
often simply internalized without being uttered),
and our own words and thoughts -- these will
determine the future for the blind. If the language
is positive, our prospects will be correspondingly
bright. If the words used to describe
the condition of the blind are dismal, we will find
that our chances for equality are equally bleak.
However, this is not a matter to be left to fate.
For thousands of years false and downbeat words
have been forced upon the blind--words like wretched,purposeless, unfortunate. But we are no longer willing to abide such labels. We are not
inarticulate. We will write our own story and use
our own words. Our thoughts will be the dreams
of tomorrow, and the language will say: success,
independence, freedom!
In 1940, as the National Federation of the Blind
was brought into being, there was almost nothing
in the language to combat the erroneous but
generally accepted view that blindness meant
ignorance and inability. Dr. Jacobus tenBroek,
the founder and first president of the National
Federation of the Blind, and the handful who
worked with him to pioneer our movement had
to commence the process of altering the patterns
of thought by correcting the language. He and
those others had to begin to create a literature of
independence and freedom for the blind. In the
1950's Dr. Kenneth Jernigan, one of the most
powerful writers ever to consider the subject of
blindness, joined Dr. tenBroek in building a
climate of understanding that would permit the
blind to achieve equality. A new language began
to appear with new adjectives for the blind. The
words employed by Dr. tenBroek and Dr. Jernigan
were upbeat, shot-through with vitality,
and suffused with confidence. This new method
of expression carried with it an innovative pattern
of thought, and the altered mental process
brought action. No longer were the old words
permitted to stand alone. No longer were the
limitations of those words accepted without challenge.
We came to understand that it is with the
blind as it has been with other minorities: the
liberation of lives begins with the liberation of
language.
Today, at our forty-ninth convention, blindness does not mean what it did when the Federation
was established. The word itself has changed because
the thoughts associated with it have
changed. In 1940 the dictionary definition was
the only readily available explanation of blindness,
and the dictionary was entirely negative. In
1989 there is a substantial body of literature
which indicates that the dictionary is wrong.
Blindness does not mean helplessness, lack of
purpose, inferiority, or absence of intelligence.
The dictionary definition will not stand close
examination, and we are not willing to let it serve
as the definitive statement of our hopes and
aspirations. We are the blind, with our own story
and our own words -- and we intend to speak for
ourselves.
Recently an advertisement appeared from the
Carrollton Corporation, a manufacturer of
mobile homes. Apparently the Carrollton Corporation
was facing fierce competition from
other mobile home builders, who were selling
their products at a lower price. Consequently, the
Carrollton Corporation wanted to show that its
higher priced units were superior. In an attempt
to convey this impression, the company depicted
the blind as sloppy and incompetent. Its advertisement
said in part: "Some manufacturers put
out low-end products. But they are either as ugly
as three miles of bad road, or they have so many
defects -- crumpled metal, dangling moldings,
damaged carpet --that they look like they were
built at some school for the blind." What a
description! There is the ugliness of three miles
of bad road, or crumpled metal, dangling moldings,
and damaged carpet. The slipshod work is
all attributed to the incompetence of the blind. It
is not a portrayal calculated to inspire confidence
or likely to assist blind people to find employment.
However, the work that we in the Federation
are doing is paying dividends. When it was
called to the attention of company executives that
the advertisement was negative and harmful,
they apologized for its publication and withdrew
it. The manufacturer changed its public representation
because of the protest of the organized
blind movement.
It is not hard to imagine why a manufacturing
company might misunderstand the nature of
blindness. Such companies do not have routine
association with us. Although their misrepresentation
of the abilities of blind people must be
brought forcibly to their attention, it is
reasonable to suppose that the ignorance they
sometimes display stems from lack of information.
The same cannot be said of agencies for the
blind. They hold themselves out as knowledgeable
about blindness and thoroughly familiar
with every aspect of our lives and behavior. It is,
therefore, ironic that some of the most false and
damaging literature written about blindness
comes directly from these agencies.
The Delaware Center for Vision Rehabilitation
distributes a brochure called Images. This flier
leaves no doubt about the opinion of the
Delaware Center regarding the ability of the
blind. The grammatical construction is that of the
agency. Here is a portion of the language used:
"The eyes and vision are priceless parts of every
person, shaping their attitudes, experiences, expectations,
and physical and mental capabilities."
As I read this statement, I wondered if they could
really believe it. Do our attitudes differ from
those of the sighted? Do our physical and mental
powers change with the loss of sight? If our
mental capabilities are altered, do they get better--or
worse? The brochure from Delaware
does not say, but the context leaves no doubt as
to what they think.
On the other hand, an article appearing in the Columbus [Ohio] Register about two years ago
answers this question differently. The headline
says: "Nearsighted found to have higher IQs."
The article goes on to say: "While the nearsighted
may need glasses, their lack of perfect
vision could be a sign of high intelligence, say
researchers who studied myopic Israeli teenagers.
Doctors tested 157,748 Israeli military
recruits, ages 17 to 19, and discovered a link
between nearsightedness and high IQs. 'There
can be no doubt about the reality of the correlation
between myopia and intellectual performance,'
wrote Drs. Mordechai Rosner and
Michael Belkin. Still, they wrote, the 'cause and
effect relationship is not clear.'"
This is what the article says --and of course, it
does not go on to claim that the more restricted
your vision becomes, the more intelligent you
get--until at total blindness you arrive at total
genius. But it does suggest that there may be a
correlation. Did the learned doctors construct a
faulty test? Did they make a mistake in the way
they administered it? Or did they simply fall
victim to the ancient stereotype that the blind are
peculiar and possessed of mysterious powers?
Who knows -- and in a very real sense who cares?
We who are blind are neither specially blessed
nor specially cursed, and one misconception is as
bad as the other. Regardless of that and the
claims of the doctors, there has not been, so far
as I know, a rush of employers to hire the blind
because of our superior intelligence. Even if we
were smarter than the sighted (and I don't
believe for a minute that we are), the public
attitudes about blindness would likely remain
just about where they are -- a lot of superstition,
growing enlightenment, and a long pull ahead.
A reporter from the Chicago Tribune recently
said categorically and unequivocally that: "A
sighted person with the IQ of a genius would be
hard-pressed to make tuna salad while
blindfolded." In other words, even if those who
are blind have greater intelligence, it doesn't
really matter. Sight is essential. Those who lack
it cannot even get around their kitchens to make
tuna salad.
The National Aeronautics and Space Administration
(NASA) recently issued a tech brief
on its newly developed "Public-Facilities
Locator for the Blind." This is a device intended
to help the blind become more independent in
daily travel. The document describing the new
aid is suitably couched in technical terms. It says
in part: "A proposed coded infrared transmit/receive
scheme would enable a blind person
in a building to detect and locate specific
'landmarks,' such as elevators, water fountains,
restrooms, and emergency exits. A synthesized
voice would announce a landmark. Each
landmark (the document continues) has a code.
A pulse code modulation (PCM) scheme transmits
each one, the code being the binary grey
code (a one chip encode/one chip decode). The
transmitter gives out a burst of two identifications;
for example, 'men's room --men's room,'
and repeats it continuously at an even cadence."
That is what the tech brief says, and there is more
of this high-flown technological jargon in the
NASA report. Computer signals have been
devised for the stairwell, the lady's bathroom, the
escalator, and the telephone. When we tell these
space technologists that their legerdemain is not
only unnecessary but harmful to the blind, they
will probably say that we are super- sensitive and
that they are only trying to help. They will not
understand that the presence of such gadgetry
will encourage both the blind and the sighted to
believe that we need complex adaptations of the
environment for the simplest acts of our daily
lives and that those who work in such modified
buildings will be quietly and inevitably indoctrinated
to the conclusion that blindness
means abnormality and incompetence. Of
course, there are dozens of ways in which technology
can serve our needs. However, if it is truly
to be useful to us, its designers must recognize
the fundamental capacity of the blind for full
integration into society on the basis of equality.
Specialized aids and appliances must enhance
independence, not stand as a declaration that the
blind are so lacking in intelligence that we cannot
even find the bathroom or the telephone. How
often we have been told that one of the major
problems of blindness is being able to find the
bathroom.
One thing is certain -- the mickey mouse contraptions
and the prejudice against blindness that
they represent must go! We will no longer permit
the scientists and engineers to imply that we
are somehow peculiar and strange. If necessary
we will build the equipment we need for ourselves.
We the blind are abroad in the land, and we
will not remain silent while the technocrats combine
antiquated fantasy and modern science to
form a spurious portrait of the helpless blind. We
have found our voice, and we know how to use it.
They cannot tell us how it is for the blind. For we
(as was said on another occasion) have been to
the mountaintop, and we know how it is for the
blind. The technologists can work with us if they
will. But we know what we want and how to get
it. And we intend to speak for ourselves.
One of the oldest and tiredest jokes about the
blind is that the Braille system works better on a
date. Now, there is a company that has decided
to try to capitalize on that sick so-called sense of
humor. An outfit calling itself Valley Enterprises
prints T-shirts with easily feelable raised dots.
The name they give to this printing is so predictable
as to be both inevitable and totally disgusting
-they call it "Body Braille." There are six
preprinted messages available on the back of
their T-shirts or sweat shirts. They will also print
them on the front, if you like. Blind people across
the country have heard these messages over and
over again. Here are the six: "Out of Sight,"
"Keep in Touch," "Touch of Class," "Hands on
Experience," "Feeling Good," and "Handle with
Care." According to the maker of these shirts,
the purpose of the company is not merely to raise
money for its owners. Instead, they say: '"Body
Braille' clothing is a unique means of communicating
self awareness and self expression for
individuals who are visually impaired, a means to
raise the consciousness of the sighted public, and
an avenue for all people to demonstrate their
support of the visually impaired."
To which I reply: "Yuk and double yuk." Why is
it that this company (and so many other people)
feel that they have to offer a socially acceptable
justification for poking fun at the blind? Blind
people do not make a practice of feeling one
another up, and we are unwilling for any other
group to assume that we do -- or, for that matter,
that it would be all right if we did, or that it is all
right for them to do so with us as an excuse.
Furthermore, I, for one, am tired of the slightly
off-colored humor that is so often claimed to be
funny. The blind are like others. We will find the
times and the places when intimacy is appropriate.
Otherwise, leave it alone, and do not
talk or act as if we (like the slaves of a bygone
time) are generally available.
There is a well-known theory which holds that all
blind people require psychological counseling
and adjustment. This bald proposition has been
given sufficient credence by certain agencies for
the blind that they have permanent psychologists
on staff to minister to the needs of their clients.
Blind people seeking assistance from these agencies
are not asked whether they want psychological
services. It is simply assumed that all who are
blind need them. Often those who try to avoid the
psychologist are informed that the ministrations
of this specialist are part of the package if they
want help in learning the skills of blindness (such
as Braille and mobility), securing financial aid for
college tuition, or gaining assistance in locating a
job. If the blind hope to receive any service at all,
they may have to endure the testing, the questioning,
and the probing into every corner of daily
life and personal behavior.
Perhaps you imagine that this psychological
review is of the standard sort. Don't you believe
it. Some of the agencies (no doubt employing
their years of experience and so-called research
tools) have decided that the usual tests are insufficient.
After all, the standard psychological examinations
are designed for the sighted. The
blind are different. They are blind. Therefore, an
alternative series of tests (special tests just for the
blind) has been designed and is now in use.
The American Foundation for the Blind has
produced a special psychological test called "The
Anxiety Scale for the Blind." Apparently the
putative experts believe that there is a need to
measure psychological stress in the blind and that
no ordinary analysis will do. Here is a sample of
what the test designers say: "Although there are
a number of general anxiety measures available,
counselors and psychologists working with blind
clients may question the use with the blind of
instruments that have been constructed for the
sighted. The purpose of research on the Anxiety
Scale for the Blind (ASB) was," they go on to say,
"to provide a measure of manifest anxiety which
could be standardized on populations of blind
persons and which later could have wide applicability
in the field of work for the blind."
There you have it. It is necessary to test the
anxieties of blind people, and this is no ordinary
task. The anxiety felt by the blind is special. It is
certainly not the same as the anxiety felt by the
sighted. And these are the people who are
charged with providing services to the blind. We
have many hundreds of blind people meeting and
enjoying themselves at this banquet tonight. Forget
your good spirits for a moment, and ask yourself
whether you have special anxiety. Do you feel
it? Well, I don't either. And what kinds of services
do you suppose will likely be offered with
this anxiety scale as a background?
The next revelation of these so-called experts
(from the American Foundation for the Blind) is
that they intend to test us all. Psychological examinations
have traditionally been given in this
country to select groups to achieve specific purposes.
They have not been given to entire popula
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tions for nonspecific reasons. However, the
designers of the Anxiety Scale for the Blind tell
us that its use is to be much broader. Although
the authors developed this test with students attending
schools for the blind, they say: "Local
norms should be established for blind persons in
various environmental settings such as the home,
the sheltered workshop, and the competitive
work situation." But this is not all. They go on to
recommend that there be, in their words: "a study
of the effects of manifest anxiety on the academic
achievement of blind students; a study of the
effect of anxiety on learning mobility skills; a
study of manifest anxiety in relation to social
behavior in courtship and other social situations;
a study of the effects of anxiety on success in the
competitive work environment; and a study of
manifest anxiety in leadership potential among
blind persons."
The environment of George Orwell's 1984 has, I
am glad to say, not yet been fully imposed upon
the general population, and we are not going to
have it for the blind either. We don't need special
testing beyond that given to others in our education,
our jobs, or our social lives. If we have
reasonable opportunity and a fair chance to compete
for jobs on equal terms with others, we will
hold our own as well as the next person. We are
not freaks; we are not basket cases; and we are
not so fragile that we will break. Our problems
are more in the area of civil rights and vocational
exclusion than maladjustment and the need for
counseling --and don't you forget it.
But back to the testers and the anxiety scale.
After informing us that there is virtually no
aspect of the daily lives of blind people that
should not be subjected to the rigors of this mental
measuring stick, the testers list seventy-eight
statements. The person being examined is expected
either to agree or disagree. Here is a
sample from the seventy-eight. As you consider these statements, ask yourself how much confidence
is inspired by the language employed.
Statement number two: "I almost always trust the
people who guide me."
That statement assumes that the blind need
guidance, that this need causes dependency, and
that the lack of freedom of movement results in
anxiety. The implication is that the blind person
cannot function without the superior knowledge
or judgment of somebody else and that a degree
of decision-making power and control will necessarily
be surrendered. All people require
guidance from time to time. This is as true of the
blind as it is of the sighted. However, hidden in
this statement is the insinuation of an innate
helplessness by the blind. If this is what they
believe, they are not well acquainted with the
energy, the resourcefulness, and the self-reliance
of blind people. One is tempted to reply with an
answer like this: "I do almost always trust the
people who guide me, except when the guidance
comes from the people who designed this test."
But back to the psychological examination. The
statements go on. Here are some of the others.
Ask yourself what is meant by each and how you
might respond.
Number six: "I am uncomfortable when I
must eat with sighted persons."
Number ten: "I would say that blindness has
completely ruined my life."
Number fifteen: "I refuse to carry a cane because
it makes me appear helpless."
Number nineteen: "I would say that in most
cases blind people should marry other blind
people."
Number thirty: "I don't worry about being
blind."
I interrupt to ask how could one help it when the
psychologists are trying to ram it down our
throats? But there is more to the test.

Number thirty-one: "I would not date a
sighted person."
Number thirty-seven: "I would say that I often
feel unwanted when with my blind friends."
Number thirty-eight: "Sighted people rarely
make me feel useless."
Number forty-one: "I often find it difficult to
express my ideas when in the company of sighted
people."
Number forty-nine: "Frequently, when I am
with sighted persons I have trouble with my
words."
Number fifty-one: "In familiar surroundings, I sometimes have a feeling of being absolutely
lost."

Number fifty-five: "I have about the same
number or fewer fears than my blind friends." Number fifty-six: "I have to be cautious in the
company of sighted people."
Number fifty-seven: "Because I cannot see,
life is a constant state of stress."
Number sixty: "I constantly think and often
talk about being able to see well."
Number sixty-four: "I am more irritable when
I am with sighted people than when I am with
blind people."
Number sixty-five: "I frequently feel uneasy
about competing with sighted people."
Number sixty-eight: "I am overly sensitive
about my physical condition."
Number seventy: "Frequently, I feel that a
familiar room has changed shape."
Number seventy-three: "I do not mind asking
sighted people for help."
Number seventy-four: "I often worry about
looking ridiculous to sighted people."
Number seventy-five: "Often I am not polite
to sighted people."
There is one statement among the seventy-eight
which exemplifies the approach of the whole
miserable examination. It reads: "I often feel
under strain because I must stay alert." Now, I
ask you, why is it necessary for the blind to be more alert than others? Are blind people more
likely to get into trouble? Are we more accident
prone? Is there something about the blind that
makes us miss factual information if we do not
concentrate more diligently than others? What
could possibly be the need for this extraordinary
vigilance? Have the testers really met the blind
and worked with us on a daily basis? Can they
truly understand our fundamental ability, our
wishes, and our aspirations? There must have
been some reason for including this novel suggestion.
Perhaps the explanation is contained in
statement twenty-nine. It says: "I would say that
blindness is a personal punishment." Did these
psychological experts learn their scientific principles
from ancient mythology or venerable lore?
Blindness, a punishment? From whom does the
retribution come? Such a statement, in a supposedly
even-handed psychological test, puts one
in mind of the old Middle Eastern proverb:
"When you see a blind man, kick him. Why
should you be kinder to him than God has been?"
Dependence, rejection, uncertainty, frustration--these
are the words associated with the
portrayal of the blind in this test. The Anxiety
Scale for the Blind is certainly not a document
that will engender peace of mind. The set of
idiotic statements is well named. It will certainly
cause anxiety in the blind, in those, at least, who
are gullible, inexperienced, or beaten down
enough to take it seriously. And it will also cause
anxiety in the rest of us -- an anxiety to eradicate
such misbegotten notions as those advocated by
the test.
The blind are not less secure or more sensitive
than others. It is not reasonable to suppose that
lack of sight indicates mental imbalance. The
experience of tens of thousands of us shows that
it is not so. This so-called scientific test is not
really based on evidence at all. It is a sham
dressed up in the jargon of science, and its image
is harmful to the blind. Its symbolism is the ar
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chaic language of deprivation and fear. We reject
this prejudicial, ridiculous document because it
does not represent blindness as it is. We will not
permit it to stultify our hopes and curtail our
opportunities. Instead, we will build our own
images and use our own words. The language will
be ours, and we will say it like it is. For the blind
there will be -- success, independence, freedom!
So often those who consider the subject of blindness
focus on the dining table. Everyone must
eat, and the blind are no exception. One company,
Liblan, Incorporated, of Wheeling, Illinois,
has designed and patented a special dish and
spoon for the blind. In a letter to me Liblan's
president says that his company has developed a
special "Plastic food container and utensil construction
designed for manipulation by the sense
of touch only." I was asked to send letters of
endorsement to major manufacturers so that they
would produce this special bowl and spoon for
the blind. I leave it to you to determine whether
I did.
A report in the Tulsa (Oklahoma) World states
that a nonprofit organization called New View,
Incorporated, has established a program to encourage
awareness of blindness by inviting public
officials to breakfast and insisting that they eat
blindfolded. The results are predictable. All the
misconceptions of blindness are enhanced and
reinforced by the brief experience. Why are supposedly
knowledgeable people willing to believe
that blindness can be understood within half an
hour? The alternative techniques required for a
blind person to function (not to mention the
philosophical implications of blindness) are far
more complex than the skills required for perhaps
a hundred other tasks. Nevertheless, it is
assumed that blindfolding a group of public officials
for an hour or less will teach them about
blindness. These same public officials know that
it takes longer than that to learn how to drive a
car or shoe a horse. Still, they are urged to think that they know all about blindness with absolutely
no training. Here is the way it appeared in the Tulsa World:
If you want a lifetime appreciation of sight, try
life without it for half an hour.
A dinner fork becomes a spear when you can't
see it coming toward your face. Rich foods make
you thirsty, but you don't drink. A glass is a water
tower. A reach through the darkness could be a
spill and flood everyone's meal.
Coffee is drunk with hesitation. A sip can
become a gulp. A gulp can become a scald.
You make a lot of noise with eating utensils
when you're blind. You stick your fork heavily
onto empty china, and with your increased sense
of hearing, it sounds as if you're beating drums to
everyone's annoyance.
You don't talk as much during a meal when
you're blind. The loss of one sense amplifies the
others.
You hear more, and restaurant background
music becomes blaring. You think you're shouting
just to speak above it.
You eat less when you can't see. To hunt for
food is to push it off your plate, onto the table,
onto your lap. Scambled eggs can burn like a
brand.
One napkin isn't enough when you're newly
blind. You wipe food onto the napkin, then you
wipe it back onto your face.
You know you're blind and suspect you're
bothersome.
BText2 = People who involuntarily lose their
sight have a problem with sorrow about what they
can't do. People who voluntarily lose it, have
trouble with guilt about what they can. When
you're blind you no longer care that the Russians
boycotted the Olympics.
You can't even cut your food. Yet the real
blind people shave and brush their teeth. You
finally think more about their braveness and
bravura than your own blindness.
The newspaper reporter tells us that the blind are
brave for shaving; that blind people cannot cut
their food; that one napkin is not enough for the
newly blinded; that blind people eat less, talk
less, and make more noise than the sighted; that
the loss of sight heightens the other senses; that
the blind are full of grief, and the sighted full of
guilt. All of this occurred because an agency for
the blind wanted to impress (and doubtless get
money from) public officials by frightening them
into believing that it was dealing with a
catastrophic situation. The inevitable result is
that the agency will receive deference and (no
doubt) more sympathy for its fund-raising efforts.
But what will the blind receive? More public
misconceptions to overcome; more difficulty in
finding jobs; and more problems in having the
opportunity to live normal, ordinary, everyday
lives.
If these misstatements, false notions, and devastating
descriptions were not so serious, they
might be downright funny. However, they have a
dramatic impact on the lives of each of us. With
this kind of public perception about blindness the
job market is closed. The professors at educational
institutions may not turn us away, but they
will not regard us as serious students. Service in
positions of responsibility in government or the
private sector will not be available. However, the
article in the Tuba World, with its mistaken notions
about blindness, is only one of the public
utterances about the blind. There are many
others. Our work in the Federation has continued
for forty-nine years, and there are measurable
changes.
For a number of years one of the problems facing
the blind was that we were banned from jury
service because of blindness. Indeed, in some
states the laws still specifically restrict us from being selected. However, the work of the Federation
is bringing change. In many states the laws
now say that the blind cannot be categorically
excluded from jury service. One indicator of our
progress is shown by a poll conducted recently by
radio station WBZ in Boston. Ninety-five percent
of those questioned said that blind people
should be allowed to serve on juries. One word,
one image, one symbol, one thought at a time -- we are changing what it means to be blind. One
word, one image, one symbol, one thought at a
time--we are achieving independence, self-sufficiency,
and equality. The day when the blind can
no longer be excluded from jury service is not a
dream for the distant future. It is within our
reach. First, jury service. Then, other rights -- the
right to employment on terms with others, the
right to live peacefully in our homes without
unwanted interference from government officials,
the right to travel without harassment or
intimidation -- the right to participate fully in all
the activities of daily life.
The psychological tests, the blindfolded public
officials, the patented dishes and spoons for the
blind -- all of these have an impact on our personal
lives. Shortly after last year's convention I
received a letter which describes eloquently in
unadorned prose the problems we face. The
Federationist who sent it knows disappointment
and frustration firsthand. The letter contains an
exceptional poignancy, more for what it does not
say than for what it does. Here it is:
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September 30,1988
Dear President Maurer:
Two years ago I decided to move back home
for convenience reasons. In the past few months
I have been treated worse by my mother than by
airline personnel or a stranger on the street. Let me give you a few examples. I was asked to take
a pot of coffee from the house to my father's
machine shop, which was only about a four
minute walk either by the road or through the
trail in the woods. Well, by the time mother had
the coffee ready, and I was ready to go, she
changed her mind and said I might fall down with it and hurt myself. Mr. Maurer, I have never
fallen down on my way from the house to the
machine shop.
Another incident: Every time food is served
at the table, whether it be spaghetti or hamburger
meat, it comes to me in a bowl. Not only that, but
with a spoon. I asked once, why the spoon? She
replied, 'I thought you could handle it better that
way.'
The other night was better than that. I was
served soup with several sheets of newspaper
under the bowl. I wanted to say something about
this, but we would both just get mad and have a
fight. I threw a spoon at her one time. And then,
of course, I felt embarrassed and humiliated
afterward.
I am tired of my mother's negative remarks
toward me as to what I can and can't do as a blind
person. It seems like, after 37 years, she ought to
know damn well what I can and cannot do. Just
what can I do to change her attitude about blindness?
Well,
tonight for dinner fried fish was served
with tartar sauce. Then, I noticed she was laying
paper down before she served the plate. I asked
my father, 'Where is your paper for your plate?'
He explained he didn't need paper. So, I just got
up and walked away.
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What can I say to this Federationist? How can I
answer his letter? It is bad enough that the agencies
promote negative attitudes about us, that the
advertisers belittle us in order to sell their
products, and that the newspapers misunderstand and compound the problem. But
it is even worse when the members of our own
families (conditioned by the words and thoughts
of society) do the same. It makes little difference
that more often than not the members of our
families put us down and treat us like children for
motives of love. The tragedy, the pain, and the
loss hurt no less for the lack of malice.
Sometimes, in our humiliation and frustration,
we may think the first best step is to leave the
table hungry for a night -- but this is no answer,
no remedy, no solution to the problem. There
must be concerted action and coordinated effort
to change public attitudes and improve the social
climate. And we are taking those actions. We are
making those efforts. The members of our
families are part of the general public, and so are
the agencies and their psychologists. For that
matter, so are we.
For thousands of years we who are blind have
been regarded as incompetent, and for the most
part we have accepted the legends we have been
taught. But that time is at an end. It is true that
some still tell us that we cannot perform in the
factory or workshop; that we have an altered
mentality; that we are unable to handle routine
tasks in the kitchen; that we require extraordinary
technological devices to help us find the
bathroom; that we need raised dot T-shirts to
enhance our self-awareness; that we suffer from
special anxiety; that we cannot use ordinary
tableware; that, when we finally get to the table,
we will eat less, talk less, and make more noise
than others; and that our lives are filled with
grief.
But it is equally true that these are not any longer
the predominant elements of our lives. In 1940
we organized to speak for ourselves through the
National Federation of the Blind, and in the
intervening half century the blind have achieved
more progress than ever before in all previous
recorded history. We have replaced the ancient
terms of negativism with a new language of hope,
and society has increasingly come to accept us for
what we are -- normal people with normal aspirations
and normal abilities.
More and more the words (and therefore, the
thoughts and the deeds) of the workplace and the
home, the school and the church, the street and
the playground reflect this new mood. And underlying
it all, fueling the change and focusing the
progress, is (as it has been for the past half century)
the National Federation of the Blind. With
all of the problems and all of the work we still
have to do, we come to this meeting tonight with
a feeling of hope and a mood of gladness. We
come with a joy and a certainty of triumph. At
long last we know who we are and what we must
do. We are organized, confident, and prepared
for what lies ahead -- and no force on earth can
turn us back. Our words, our thoughts, and our
dreams reach for a tomorrow which is bright with
promise, and the heart of that promise is the
individual determination of each of us and the
unshakeable power of our vehicle for collective
action --the National Federation of the Blind.
The past has belonged to others, but the future
belongs to us. Let us speak, think, and act in
support of each other --and we will make it all
come true!