Meet Kathie Mathis

Meet Kathie Mathis

The Braille Monitor

_July 1997

(next)

(contents)

Meet

Kathie Mathis: A Fellow Federationist

by Deborah Kent Stein

From the Editor: The following biographical

sketch first appeared in the Summer, 1996, issue of the Braille Examiner,

a publication of the National Federation of the Blind of Illinois. It is part

of writer and Illinois affiliate First Vice President Debbie Stein's ongoing

series of portraits of Illinois Federationists. Kathie Mathis currently serves

as Treasurer of the NFB of Illinois. She was successful in her bids on two vending

locations mentioned in the profile and is now a working vendor. Here is Debbie

Stein's story:

Soon after Kathie Mathis finished college,

her father died of cancer. One of their last conversations has always stayed

with her. "Life is an adventure," her father said. "No matter

what happens, some good will come out of it." Judging by the way she has

lived, Kathie took those words to heart.

After graduating from the University of Missouri in St. Louis (UMSL), Kathie

took a job with the Department of children's and Family Services (DCFS) near

Hoopestown, Illinois. As director of a multi-service agency, she found herself

trying to serve two rigidly separate communities. Most of the wealthy farm families

in the area believed that social service was strictly for the migrant workers

who lived outside of town. Kathie began speaking to civic organizations, explaining

that social services could benefit everyone. She enjoyed public speaking and

saw it as a vehicle for changing people's attitudes.

In 1973 Kathie decided to make a major career shift. Following the example of

an uncle she greatly admired, she went into law enforcement. As a juvenile officer

with the St. Clair County Police Department, she established an exciting new

program to work with young offenders. Her Status Offender Program was the first

of its kind in Illinois outside Chicago. Young people in the program signed

a contract which stipulated several requirements. The child agreed to perform

community service and to enter counseling with his or her family. "It was

really a tough program," Kathie recalls. "When they came into it,

some of the kids just hated me. But as time went on, you'd see their attitude

changing. It really made a difference."

Whenever she encountered a problem, Kathie tried to find a solution. Her police

work gave her the opportunity to set up a variety of constructive new programs.

During the 1970 's she established one of the state's first drug abuse prevention

programs for school-age children. She helped create a recreation center for

teens. She also pioneered a crime prevention program for senior citizens. She

and her staff led rap sessions at nursing homes and senior centers, teaching

safety precautions and encouraging people to report crimes when they occurred.

In 1981 Kathie Mathis was appointed Chief of Police for St. Clair County. Somehow

she managed to combine her busy work schedule with the demands of raising five

children. She was also very involved in church work and Scouting. As her children

reached college age, she began to look for loans and scholarships. She soon

realized that few families in her community knew these resources existed. She

gathered all the information she could about financial aid for higher education

and shared it with other interested parents.

In 1986 Kathie Mathis suddenly lost the vision in her left eye. Doctors found

that she had a rare disease called "histoplasmosis." This condition,

which is endemic in the Mississippi River Basin, is caused by a fungus found

in bird droppings. "It's a real classy disease," Kathy says wryly.

"I have no idea how I got it." The doctors assured her that her other

eye would not be affected. Kathie quickly learned to compensate for her loss

and resumed all her normal activities.

Kathie's work as police chief eventually led her to take a position as deputy

federal marshal. The job opened up a realm of exciting possibilities. Federal

marshals may work as undercover agents. They may be called upon to deal with

drug kingpins or international terrorists. On occasion they protect judges or

witnesses during high-profile trials. Kathie was protecting a federal judge

early in 1992 when

suddenly, from one minute to the next, her right eye ceased to function. She

was almost totally blind.

At first Kathie was terrified. If she were blind, she could not keep her job.

Her whole way of life was crumbling. Doctors told her that there was little

hope of restoring her vision. Nevertheless, she underwent a risky operation

which seemed to offer her one last chance. The surgery was unsuccessful and

led to a series of life-threatening complications. Almost a year passed before

she fully recovered her health and could think about the future.

Once she accepted permanent blindness,

Kathie realized there must still be ways she could remain active and productive.

She contacted the Department of Rehabilitation Services (DORS). After two months

a counselor finally arrived to do an intake interview. Kathie asked about the

kinds of jobs available to blind people and was told that there were only two

choices--work with either Social Security or the IRS. Kathie asked about training

in daily living skills and was assured that a home teacher would work with her.

The home teacher never materialized. After months of mounting frustration, Kathie

enrolled at ICRE-Wood (Illinois Center for Rehabilitation Education at Wood

Street) in Chicago. She was launched on a new adventure.

Kathie Mathis entered ICRE-Wood with a sense of optimism. At last she would

get the vital skills she needed. She wanted training in Braille, mobility, computers--

anything and everything. But from the first she found massive obstacles in her

way. She was denied Braille instruction on the grounds that it would not help

her. She was placed on an endless waiting list for a computer class. She was

never given any instruction in the use of the long white cane. Kathie and her

fellow students spent most of their time confined to a lounge with nothing to

do. They were forbidden to leave the lounge without permission from the staff.

"It was terrible," Kathie says. "I saw people come into the program

with hope, with a sense of self-worth. By the time they left, they'd been beaten

down. The humiliation, the contempt of the staff made them lesser persons. ""

Within her first few weeks at the center, Kathie revived a long disbanded student

council. Against enormous resistance from the staff, the students began pushing

for improvements in the program. It all finally came to a head with the affair

of the Christmas tree.

"Christmas was coming, and they weren't going to do a thing to celebrate,"

Kathie explains. "No decorations, no party, nothing. There was a holiday

fund, but the money went for a big staff party. There was absolutely nothing

planned for the students."

Kathie and the other trainees began asking for a Christmas tree. The staff refused

outright. "Why did blind people need a tree?" the administration asked.

After all, They couldn't see it. Even when Kathie offered to donate a tree and

ornaments herself, she was told it would not be allowed.

Eventually Kathie learned that someone had given the center an artificial tree

five years before. It had never once been used. The staff said it had somehow

been lost. Undaunted, the students kept applying pressure. Finally, on the day

before the Christmas break, the tree mysteriously appeared. Even then the staff

argued that the students should not decorate it themselves. Blind people would

do the job badly. The tree would look lopsided. It would be an embarrassment

to the center. But the students prevailed. They decorated the tree themselves

and had a memorable Christmas party. They left for the break with a feeling

of triumph.

Throughout her eighteen months at ICRE-Wood, Kathie Mathis went on pushing for

change. For her efforts she was harassed in countless ways--denied courses she

wanted, given an impossible schedule which she could not follow, and threatened

with expulsion. But finally, in April, 1994, she completed training for the

state vending program. Currently she is bidding on two vending locations, one

at the Federal Building in East St. Louis and the other in Greenville Federal

Prison. She finds it ironic that she has come full circle in a sense, back to

federal law enforcement.

Kathie's experience at ICRE-Wood taught her that blind people must stand together

for mutual support, that they must fight side-by-side.

One day a staff member told her about the NFB. He warned her to stay away from

Federationists, that they were "a bunch of radicals." Considering

the source, this was a high recommendation. Kathie contacted the NFB of Illinois

and began meeting with Steve Benson and Bryan Johnson. Those meetings were a

powerful learning experience on both sides. Kathie alerted Steve and Bryan to

the true horrors of ICRE-Wood. In turn they taught her about Federation philosophy.

She discovered that she was not alone. Through the Federation blind people all

across the country were fighting for dignity and equality.

In 1994 Kathie went to Detroit for her first NFB National Convention. She came

home determined to start a chapter in the Belville area. She spent the next

year recruiting new members and spreading the Federation message. The Four Rivers

Chapter of the NFB of Illinois was chartered at the 1995 state convention in

Quincy.

"I still really miss police work," Kathie admits. "But I love

the things I'm doing now. Really, I've never been happier in my life. I went

through some pretty rough times, but a lot of good has come out of it in the

end."