Opening A Bag

Opening A Bag

Future Reflections Winter 1987, Vol. 6 No. 1
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OPENING UP A BAG
by Jane Crawford
(Editor's Note: This article is reprinted
from the December 1987 Braille
Monitor The author, Jane Crawford, is
from Trumbull, Connecticut)
What does one do with a mixed bag of
emotions except to sort them out?
Here is what is partially in my bag--a
feeling cf being an outsider, confusion
and chaos, admiration, pride mixed with
anger, and finally a sense of belonging.
This bag started filling up when I
arrived for my first NFB convention in
Kansas City.
I am a sighted person, and although I
had understood that the convention was
open to all who had any dealings with
the blind (I am a teacher of the
visually impaired), I began to feel
alienated. There was the confusion--all
those canes and all those dogs--all
those people trying to get from one
place to another--all that sense of
misdirection and even downright pushiness
on elevators and buses. These
were my initial impressions, and I
didn't want to be there.
Then, all of a sudden, things began to
come together for me. I attended seminars
(still feeling like an outsider,
especially after hearing about "agency"
people). My thoughts were, "I'm not one
of those," and "I'm not trying to do for
the blind that which they can do for
themselves," and "Holy Cow, maybe I am!"
That's when I stepped outside of myself
and really looked at what was going on.
This convention was like any other--a
mixture of people brought together from
all over the world with different educations,
different ideals, different
philosophies, et cetera. But with a
common purpose--to stand up for what
they believe in and to fight for it.
That's when the admiration began to set
in--and the pride--and the anger.
I have no idea what it takes to
organize something like Kansas City, but
I can imagine the work and dedication.
I started to become proud cf the people
I met and of myself. Chaos had become
exuberance and interest and caring.
Anger became channeled into action, and
then my sense cf alientation left me. I
could make friends here.
I came home to find that a job I
really wanted was mine. I will go on
teaching the visually impaired, but with
new understandings of what I am really
supposed to do. It is after all what
people can do far themselves that
counts. That message was the final item
that I took out of my bag when I got
home from Kansas City.
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