Possibilities

Possibilities

POSSIBILITIES

by Carol Castellano

Carol Castellano and her husband Bill are leaders

in the

National Federation of the Blind's organization

for parents of

blind children. They live in New Jersey with

their children

Serena and John. Serena is blind and John is

sighted. For both

of these children, the future is filled with

exhilarating

possibilities. With sparkle, pride, and belief

Carol shares

some of them with us. Here is what she has to

say:

It took my daughter Serena a long time to decide

just

what she wanted to be when she grew up. Whereas

my son was

only four when he decided that he would be a

dinosaur

scientist, it wasn't until she was seven that

Serena realized

that her destiny in life was to be a folksinger.

Happily she

played the chords to her favorite song,

"Michael Row the Boat

Ashore," on my guitar.

Then came the Presidential campaign of 1992.

Serena was

eight. She sat rapt before the television

listening intently

to the speeches of both parties. After the

summer's two

national conventions, she realized that it wasn't

a folksinger

that she wanted to be after all--it was a

folksinging Senator.

By late fall, having heard all three Presidential

debates,

Serena was going to be President.

Her barrage of questions about how she could

learn to be

President and conversations about what

politicians do kept up

for so long that my husband and I were convinced

she really

might go into politics when she was older.

In the late spring of this year, Serena went out

with her

father to pick early snow peas from the garden.

Coming inside

with her basket of peas, she told me she was very

interested

in gardening. "That's wonderful," I

replied. "You'll be a big

help to Daddy."

Overnight Serena's interest must really have

taken root,

because the next day she asked me if I thought

the gardens at

the White House were too big for the President to

tend, since

the President is such a busy person.

"Yes," I replied. "I'm

sure there's a staff of people who take care of

the White

House gardens." "Well then, I won't be

a gardening President,"

she told me. "I'll just be a gardener."

The desire to be a gardener was still but a

tender shoot

when Serena took a piano lesson--just a few weeks

after

picking those peas--and realized it was a pianist

she wanted

to be!

Serena is at such a wonderful stage of life!

Interested

in everything, trying everything out, she sees

the world as

her plum, ripe for the picking. She believes in

herself, as we

believe in her. And since what people believe

largely

determines what they do, it is critically

important for

parents of blind children (and other adults in

the child's

life) to have positive beliefs about blindness

and what blind

people can do.

If we are told (in a journal article or by a

teacher of

the blind, say) that blind children usually do

not or cannot

learn how to do a certain task, and if we come to

believe

this, chances are we will not give our child the

experience or

opportunity anyone would need in order to do this

task. And

chances are the child won't learn to do it.

Imagine, though, if we--and our blind

children--were

never told that blind people couldn't accomplish

a certain

thing. Imagine what the results might be if

everyone believed

that blind people could do anything they wanted

to! Well, I

believe this--and attending NFB National

Conventions has

solidified this belief for me. It is this belief

which guides

the way I bring up my daughter.

My husband and I know personally or have heard

speak a

blind high school teacher, college professor,

mathematician,

scientist, car body mechanic, industrial arts

teacher, Foreign

Service officer, engineer, a high-performance

engine builder,

and a man who has sailed solo in races from San

Francisco to

Hawaii. This makes it possible for us to glory in

the

exhilarating feeling of watching a child look

toward the

future and see only possibilities.