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The
Braille Monitor
March
2005
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Talking Sense and Avoiding
Platitudes about Blindness
by
Gary Wunder

Gary
Wunder

From the Editor: We
all occasionally fall into the temptation of seeing the world in black and white
rather than in the shades of color that actually make up our lives and experience.
I sometimes fear that the advent of email and its temptation to make instantaneous
judgments markedly increases this tendency. I gather that Gary Wunder, president
of our Missouri affiliate and secretary of the National Federation of the Blind,
happened upon an email exchange moving in this unfortunate direction. At my
request, he wrote a brief introduction to his response and sent it along to
me. This is what he says:
Whenever blind people gather
to talk about common problems and how to solve them, you can bet the discussion
will be lively, thought-provoking, and frequently emotional. Quite often these
days our discussions are held electronically on lists set up for the purpose
of making this kind of communication possible. Never before has it been so easy
to talk with so many, but this new technology is fraught with the age-old problems
hampering serious communication, in addition to imposing a few of its own. It's
hard not to fall into the trap of believing you're not being heard and to send
the electronic equivalent of "Yes, but what I am saying is," which,
as in face-to-face communication, evokes the same response in the recipient,
who is equally sure she isn't being heard. Now remove from this emotionally
charged and intellectually difficult discussion the cues given by one's tone
of voice and inflection, and it's easy for people to misunderstand what others
are trying to convey. Sometimes we are so wedded not only to what we are saying
but the way we are saying it that we talk past one another, and our discussion
erodes into responses which frequently begin with, "Yes, but what I'm saying
is," or "What you seem unable to understand is... "
It
was this observation that caused me to chime in on an email discussion about
the nature of blindness a few weeks ago in which one of the issues of contention
was whether we should work to change attitudes or instead work to tear down
the barrier of inaccessibility which now threatens our education, our jobs,
and our future.
After
reading my post, several people encouraged me to send it along for whatever
good it might do in the broader discussion we carry on here in the Monitor.
With minor editorial changes on my part and perhaps major editorial changes
from Barbara, here is what I wrote:
Sometimes when I preside
over meetings, I see people who are very close on issues and yet, because of
a word, a phrase, or a tone of voice, are committed to argue their points until
the last dog dies. What is blindness--a mighty large question to answer in a
phrase, and what is the purpose of any answer which could be so simply put?
To
me, whether blindness is a nuisance and an inconvenience has much to do with
the way I approach the world and my place in it, but day to day, whether it
is a nuisance or something more depends on what I'm doing and to some degree
how I happen to be feeling. When I drop something and have to hunt a bit longer
for it than the sighted person who has watched me drop it and clearly sees it
on the carpet, blindness is a nuisance and an inconvenience. But I'd rather
be blind than suffer from a back problem which would prohibit me from bending
to retrieve the object. When I'm given the opportunity to be the lead programmer
to explore and implement a new piece of software but that software doesn't function
at all with my screen reader, then blindness is more than a nuisance. I'd like
to live in a world where my blindness is my issue alone, where my resourcefulness
is so superb that, other than the physical observation that I carry a cane,
no one around me even has to consider that I do not see. The truth I experience,
however, is that my blindness is not so well camouflaged. My managers and coworkers
understand that my technology allows me to do some things, and some things it
does not. I can and do hire sighted assistance out of my own pocket for reading
and transportation, but practically speaking this does not meet all the real-world
needs I would like to accommodate. I cannot remain economically self-sufficient
and hire a sighted reader to be with me throughout my work day. Neither can
I hold someone in reserve eight hours a day to be ready for the ten minutes
I need sighted help.
Recently
an update to our hospital's workstations failed, and my colleagues were dispatched
to each floor and to our outlying clinics. Their instructions were to perform
a procedure deemed too complicated for the average doctor, nurse, or hospital
administrator to perform. Doing workstation maintenance is not something people
at my level would normally do--we have too much education and are paid far too
much--but when emergencies strike, we don't quibble. I was of no help here.
My ability to interact efficiently with the system means modifying one computer
for my use. Moreover, the transportation which reliably gets me to and from
work could not meet the need filled by my office mate who traveled twenty miles
to an off-site clinic.
All
I have said thus far would tend to weigh in on the side of blindness being much
more than a nuisance and an inconvenience, but generally the nuisance proposition
is the one to which I subscribe. A philosophy or an ideology is not something
which can be applied absolutely. The world is never that simple. The Golden
Rule is one I love, but not only can I not live it as completely as I would
like, I'm not even confident that strict adherence to it would produce the desired
result in my life. I don't want to kill human beings, but neither do I want
to be in a position where an adversary is confident I won't do anything to him
I wouldn't want done to me. I hold the Golden Rule as divinely inspired, but
its application does not relieve me of the responsibility to decide when I will
apply it and to consider whether in every situation its application is possible
in the world.
I
believe we live in a wonderful country, and when I think of it, I think of representative
democracy; the land of the free; a government created of the people, by the
people, and for the people; and a nation that values justice regardless of one's
social class, race, gender, or disability. When I say these things, I do so
knowing they provide the looking glass through which I see my country and my
role as a citizen who loves her. At the same time I recognize many realities
that suggest my claims for her are at best a dream and at worst an indefensible
lie: It is better to be sick and rich in America than to be sick and poor; better
to be rich and in legal trouble than poor and in legal trouble; better to walk
many of our streets as a white man than to walk them as a black man. Skin color
in my country should have nothing to do with the level of suspicion one's presence
evokes, but the reality is often very different.
It
is better to be a high-ranking official when Enron collapses than to be one
of its employees forbidden to trade their stock in the declining weeks and months
of the company's existence. A handful lose incomprehensible fortunes when the
false claims of the company are revealed, but the vast majority lose everything.
A few suffer society's judgment and punishment when they are found to have been
dishonest, while those who worked for them suffer the harsher societal judgment
that they have not adequately planned for their families' housing, food, medical
care, and eventually their own retirement. How can this be so in a nation filled
with people committed to seeking and following the will of a just and merciful
God and in a land where the law mediates between the stifling of opportunities
for business and the uncontrolled greed of a few?
I
believe firmly that choices we make result in a real difference in our lives,
but no reasonable person can argue that all of the good or all of the bad which
happens to us is controlled by our choices or could have been foreseen by a
rational person.
For
me, saying blindness is a nuisance and an inconvenience is not an absolute,
all-encompassing statement about the condition of not seeing or of the social
problems which are created from that lack of sight. The statement is not the
bedrock of NFB philosophy, and it is not a litmus test to determine whether
one is or is not a Federationist. To me the concept of blindness as a nuisance
or an inconvenience has value when contrasted with the view that blindness is
a tragic condition which is the predominant characteristic of the one who is
blind. Does the view I take between these two extremes make a difference? You
bet it does. One view leaves me hopeless; the other gives me hope. One view
says nothing in my life can be more important than that I do not see. The other
tells me there are many components which make up Gary Wunder and that blindness
is but one of them. One view finds me expecting the worst because I am the worst,
while the other encourages me to use all my God-given talents in the dealings
I have each day. One view says stay home and bother people as little as you
can because you are, indeed, a bother, while the other says go forth, compete,
make a contribution, take on the responsibilities of being a full-fledged human
because that is exactly what you are.
Do
we work on changing attitudes, or concentrate only on combating inaccessibility?
For me the attitude from which one proceeds makes all the difference, for if
there is no capability to contribute to the betterment of oneself and the world,
then removing obstacles through increased access is both impossible and fruitless.
If we talk only about attitudes, we create words without action. Which is more
important, the air I breathe or the water I drink? At any given moment the answer
depends on whether I'm thirsty or out of breath, but the abundance of one in
the absence of the other is deadly.
_________________________________________________________________________

Planned giving takes place
when a contributor decides to leave a substantial gift to charity. It means
planning as you would for any substantial purchase--a house, college tuition,
or a car. The most common forms of planned giving are wills and life insurance
policies. There are also several planned giving options through which you can
simultaneously give a substantial contribution to the National Federation of
the Blind, obtain a tax deduction, and receive lifetime income now or in the
future. For more information write or call the National Federation of the Blind,
Special Gifts, 1800 Johnson Street, Baltimore, Maryland 21230-4998, (410) 659-9314,
fax (410) 685-5653.

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