The Everyday Usefulness of Braille

The Everyday Usefulness of Braille

Future Reflections Winter 1996, Vol. 15 No. 1
(back)(contents)(next)
THE EVERYDAY USEFULNESS OF BRAILLE
by Lauren L. Eckery
Editor's note: We can hope that the time will come, sooner rather
than later, when an article like the following will no longer be an
appropriate candidate for inclusion in the pages of a publication like
this. No one needs to persuade sighted people about the pervasive
usefulness of print; the case has been made so effectively that even
those for whom it is inconvenient, awkward, or painful struggle to use
it. But would-be Braille-users and parents of children for whom print is
not an efficient tool still need down-to-earth examples of the value of
Braille in the conduct of everyday life. So here are some practical
reminders about Braille from a busy, organized working woman and mother
who uses Braille as efficiently and automatically as her sighted
counterparts use print.
Lauren Eckery is an active working woman and mother. She
frequently writes about her experiences as a blind person.
It is the early 1970's, and my family is traveling by car to
Minnesota for a vacation. Both my mother and I like to read and crochet
on long trips.
The dimness of the evening sky envelops us gradually, and my
mother stops reading. She also decides she can no longer crochet. She
wants to check the time but cannot see her watch without turning on the
dome light. She chooses to listen to the radio or take a nap.
Meanwhile, in the back seat of the car, I continue my activities.
I read my Braille magazine for a while. Then I crochet several rows on
my afghan. Braille labels help me keep the different colors of yarn in
order. Now and then I check the time on my Braille watch, the excitement
mounting as we near our final destination.
It is the later 1970's or early 1980's. I am singing in my church
choir. During our Thursday evening service prior to Good Friday, the
lights are extinguished one by one until it is nearly dark in the
sanctuary. While the choir sings, I notice a discreet scramble for notes
and lyrics. I continue singing the alto part I have memorized and
reading the lyrics in Braille. Rather than becoming anxious and
embarrassed by struggling to continue the music, I go on as before,
experiencing the special tone of the service.
It is any day. I am speaking to a group of school children, who
are interested in what I am saying about blindness: "Given the proper
training and opportunity, blind people can lead normal lives." But their
favorite part of the presentation is the show- and-tell segment, during
which I demonstrate various aids and appliances enabling the blind to be
independent. Their greatest curiosity seems to revolve around Braille.
"What is it? What do you do with it? How do you read and write it? Is it
hard to learn?"
Simply telling the children that Braille is a blind person's
equivalent to print is seldom enough. They seem to understand that
Braille can be used in school for reading and taking notes, but for what
else can one use it? Again, to oversimplify, saying that we use Braille
for the same purposes one uses print for often goes uncomprehended. The
children want concrete examples.
At our 1991 annual convention of the National Federation of the
Blind, held in New Orleans, Louisiana, the usefulness of Braille was one
of the underlying themes of our discussions. In the course of attending
convention activities, I was observed and approached by several new
Federation members who were losing some of their vision. They were
grappling with the fact that they needed to learn Braille. Two young
women who spoke with me knew that it made sense. They had been told that
Braille could be useful to them, but they were reluctant to commit the
full amount of time and effort necessary to learn Braille well enough to
use it on a daily basis. Their lack of motivation seemed to stem from a
lack of everyday examples in which using Braille could be useful and
necessary for them. They, like the children I have spoken of previously,
understood that Braille was useful for academic and employment pursuits,
but what about blind people who are neither in school nor working? How
could they make Braille such a part of their lives that they couldn't
resist learning and using it efficiently? I was pleased to give these
convention delegates concrete examples and encouragement in the use of
Braille.
With the advent of our efforts to obtain a Braille bill in
Nebraska, readers of News from Blind Nebraskans and other interested
parties might appreciate some further examples of the everyday
usefulness of Braille in the lives of everyday independent blind
persons. Although the list is endless, here are some examples which have
occurred to me during the writing of this article:
Taking telephone and other messages; making grocery and other
lists; keeping telephone numbers, addresses, and other informational
index files; placing Brailled clear plastic sheet overlays into printed
children's books so that blind parents, teachers, and others can read to
blind or sighted children; keeping recipes, crochet or knitting
patterns, and instructions of various types in Braille for efficient and
independent access- -and the list goes on.
One can label almost anything in Braille: photographs; phonograph
records; cassette tapes; video tapes; games; puzzle pieces; food items;
medications; printed materials for later filing; checks; receipts; bills
and other documents for independent handling of finances; household and
other appliances; newsletter mailers; coupons; greeting cards; post
cards; gift tags; yarn, thread, and other needlework equipment; etc.
At this point one might decide that such labeling mania is
overwhelmingly time-consuming. Abbreviations to the rescue! For
instance, when I label a spool of thread, I abbreviate the color so that
the small label will fit on the end of the spoolþ"bl" for blue, "br" for
brown, "bk" for black, "gy" for gray, "pk" for pink. Most blind people
use a combination of memory, recognition by touch, sighted assistance,
and Braille labeling for identification.
An especially interesting example of labeling comes from my
storehouse of childhood memories. One of my favorite pastimes for most
of my youth was cutting out and coloring paper dolls freehand. For
several years I could see blobs of color well enough to use a
color-coded system for naming my paper dolls ("Laurie" was blue skirt
and white top, for example). As my vision waned and the diversity in the
names I chose for these paper dolls increased, I eventually changed my
naming system to one in which I wrote each doll's name in Braille on it.
To this day, I have a collection of some of those paper dolls. My ten-
year-old daughter, Lynden, has enjoyed looking at Mommy's collection.
She has asked me the names of many of the dolls. Although I do still
remember the names of some of the dolls with colored clothing by
recognizing some other characteristic about them, reading the Braille
names is foolproof. If I had wanted to continue coloring the dolls'
clothing, I could have devised a labeling system for my crayons and
paints, but at the time Braille was my preferred choice, whether I
colored the dolls or not.
Years later, as a young adult, I took a cue from my creative
childhood's adaptive technique. When I lost the slight amount of vision
I had, it was simple and natural for me to separate my yarn colors into
individual bags and place a Braille label in each one for
identification. This method works well for multicolored crochet
projects.
One who is just beginning to learn Braille might feel exhausted by
this incomplete list of examples. But believe me, if one has no
opportunity to learn or use Braille or if one is limited in his or her
creative capacity in devising multiple practical applications of
Braille, he or she can indeed be illiterate and unnecessarily dependent
on others for assistance.
On the other hand, if we use Braille pervasively in our lives, we
will become experts at reading and writing it just as print users do
with print. One of Lynden's earliest and best methods for beginning to
learn print, besides watching "Sesame Street," was reading labels and
signs in her environment. Why not make Braille as normal a part of our
environment?
The main purpose for passing a Braille bill in every state of the
Union is to maximize the independence and equality of blind persons, be
they children or adults. Now, who could in good conscience oppose
adoption of a Braille bill once they truly understood the everyday
usefulness of Braille?
(back)(contents)(next)