[PHOTO/CAPTION: Caroline Rounds]

[PHOTO/CAPTION: Caroline Rounds]

Braille Monitor

December

2004

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My

Convention Treasures

by Caroline Rounds

Caroline

Rounds

From the Editor:

The preceding article captures the excitement of attending the NFB annual convention

for the first time. The following reflection expresses the pleasures more experienced

Federationists find at a convention. Caroline Rounds is the second vice president

of the National Federation of the Blind of California. The following recollection

appeared in the Spring/Summer 2004 edition of the NFBC Journal, the publication

of the NFB of California. This is what she says:

Those of us who have

attended national conventions before feel a growing excitement and anticipation

as the time gets closer. If it is to be in a new location, I worry a little

about getting out of the airport or how the city is laid out or what the weather

will be like. If it is in a repeat location, I pull out memories of the hotel

and my favorite restaurants and make plans for taking the tour I missed the

last time. There are automatic assumptions‑-good speeches, renewing friendships,

staying up way too late, and reconfirming my commitment to the movement.

All this accompanied my

trip to Atlanta as I made my way to the 2004 convention. But this year's convention

held some new surprises and memories, like over 2,500 folks to get to know.

The people were particularly delightful and inspiring for me this year. As I

explored the new and revisited the familiar, I found myself focusing on the

people I met throughout convention. I enjoyed sharing discoveries with several

of them.

I had never met my roommate

before. She was half my age, and this was her first convention. I delighted

as I watched her discover the freedom that comes in trying out skills she had

never practiced before. She bravely wandered downstairs the first night to locate

the restaurant. I saw her discover her limitations in Braille reading when she

tried to make sense of the agenda. She commented that she just had to get better

at it.

While presenting at the

National Organization of Blind Educators, I listened to group discussions as

potential teachers discovered the mentoring power of this organization. While

in an elevator, I listened as people discovered that, even though they were

from different states, they had things in common worth talking about over dinner.

As I interacted with people I met in various convention spots, I appreciated

the wealth of life experience and talent offered by the members of this organization.

After enjoying half an hour of original music and good conversation with the

composer and musician, I bought his CD. While waiting in the registration line,

I met a man who had designed a unique step‑by‑step curriculum for

teaching Braille to the newly blind. I realized his method was clever and sensible.

When I shared my delight, he promised to provide me with a copy.

Two specific encounters

stand out to me because they represent the humanness of the NFB. First, I met

a scholarship winner who had been blinded seven years ago during a fraternity

hazing ceremony. He had courageously dealt with his anger, bitterness, and helplessness.

Now he was pursuing a new future. As we sat together during Dr. Maurer's presidential

address, I watched as his passion for changing what it means to be blind was

born. He asked, "Where have you guys been all my life?"

Over dinner one evening

I continued a conversation with a man I had met earlier at the National Organization

of Blind Educators meeting. He was losing his sight gradually. Just recently

his employer had informed him that his teaching contract would not be renewed.

He seemed depressed and resigned to the possibility of changing his career.

I was able to help him identify his rights as a tenured teacher. Together we

talked through a game plan for securing his position and acquiring the skills

of blindness he must master. I realized that I had been able to offer my life

experience to someone else.

The 2004 Atlanta

convention was typically characterized with brilliant speeches, fascinating

exhibits, late evenings, and renewed purpose. But it's the people-‑all

of them together as a roaring group or in pairs engaged in quiet conversation‑-that

are truly the riches to be brought home from convention. This year my suitcase

was particularly full.

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