Lessons Learned on a Solo Flight: Convention Experience 1990

Lessons Learned on a Solo Flight: Convention Experience 1990

Future Reflections Convention 1990, Vol. 9 No. 4
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LESSONS LEARNED ON A SOLO FLIGHT:
CONVENTION EXPERIENCE 1990
by Carol Castellano
As the Plane approached Dallas airport last July
2, I felt my excitement~and trepidation--rising.
Rarely had I traveled alone before; interpreting
maps is difficult for me, and I like to leave the
navigating to somebody else. Even figuring out the
rail shuttle from the airport to the hotel complex
seemed daunting. The responsibility for finding out
where I had to be, getting there, and being on time
rested solely with me.
But all around me other people were finding
their way, and I realized I could do it just as they
did--take a deep breath, get moving, and ask questions
when necessary. Knowing that the blind convention
goers were grappling with the same challenges
and succeeding meant a lot to me. If these folks
could do it, I could, too. And so, eventually, could
my daughter who is blind.
In the long corridor between the hotel towers
dozens of people with canes and dog guides walked
along, calling out friendly greetings now and then.
I observed how people went about identifying each
other.
The festive excitement of the convention was
evident everywhere--in the exhibit room crammed
full of products and people and in the lively sessions
where pertinent, practical information was offered
by high-powered presenters. Challenges were issued;
expectations were high. Energy flowing from
the people on the daises was met by enthusiasm and
willingness to work on the part of those in the
audience.
Meeting Federation leaders--people whose
writings have inspired me and who have served as
long distance role models for my family--was a
thrill. I felt privileged to be present for President
Maurer's very moving address (the annual
Presidential Report.)
My belief was reaffirmed that people in this
organization care genuinely about one another and
would go out of their way to help. With such personal
commitment on the part of so many, how can
the Federation fail to reach its goals?
Almost three thousand people attended the convention,
and observing thousands of blind people
teaches some lessons. Different ways of doing
things appear more and more normal; different
ways of being seem less and less different! I
watched a blind reporter locate a hotel telephone and
operate his recording equipment. A blind wheelchair
user competently swung his cane in front of
him as he moved along. I felt my tolerance for
differences growing, my respect for and appreciation
of other ways of doing things expanding by the
moment. I hope that many other consciousnesses were raised, too, for I know that every rise in consciousness
means a better world for my daughter to
grow up in.
Seeing thousands of blind people also served to
bring to life an idea I'd come across many times in
Federation literature--that blind people are not all
alike. I had not understood why that idea was so
important until, not long ago, an admissions director
suggested that my daughter might not succeed at a
particular school because the school had once had a
blind student who could not find her way around the
building. I did not see the significance of the idea
until the director of special services wanted my
daughter's school evaluation to be done by
specialists in developmental disabilities because
they had experience with blind children. I did not
comprehend the importance of the idea until the
child study team said they leaned toward placement
in a "low-functioning" class (even though my
daughter is a bright child) because the teacher of that
class had once taught a blind child.
These educators assumed that blind people
were all alike. They did not know that some blind
people are competent travelers and some never had
the opportunity to learn; they did not know that
some blind children have developmental disabilities
and some do not; they did not know that some blind
people are brilliant and others fall into every other
category known to humans.
BUT I KNEW!! And thanks to the NFB convention,
I had that reality before my eyes, a reality
which gave me the courage and the ammunition and
the confidence to combat their prejudice.
The convention experience also demonstrated
another Federation principle--that there is not
necessarily only one "right" way of doing something.
I used to wonder why Federationists, who
believe that the blind can do virtually any task
competently without sight, seemed to refuse to
simply tell how a blind person actually does various
tasks. If they know a good way, I mused in frustration,
why won't they share it?
Eventually I learned the lesson: Instead of relying
on someone else to provide an answer, it is far
more valuable to engender in yourself and your
child the ability to assess a situation and find a
workable solution for it. Assume that anything can
be done, but don't put life on hold waiting for
someone else to hand you an answer. Use common
sense. Nourish creativity.
Not being bound by established techniques
leaves us free to discover new and better ways, and
maybe to accomplish what no other person has done
before. If no one tells us we cannot, then we well
may do it! In the NFB, the belief is that anything is
possible. It's a heady feeling.
I went to the convention for information. I came
away with that and much, much more.
Families are empowered by this organization.
Come join us in New Orleans in '91!
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