[PHOTO/CAPTION: Ollie Cantos]

[PHOTO/CAPTION: Ollie Cantos]

The Braille Monitor

June 2003

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What Is This World Coming

To?

by Olegario D. Cantos VII

Ollie

Cantos

From the Editor: The

following article is reprinted from the Spring 2003 issue of the NFB Vigilant,

the publication of the NFB of Virginia. Ollie Cantos is general counsel and

director of programs for the American Association of People with Disabilities

in Washington, D.C. A former state and national scholarship winner and originally

from California, he now lives in Arlington, Virginia, and is active in his local

chapter of the NFB. This is what he says:

I should begin by asserting

that I have certain beliefs about blindness--beliefs that have changed over

time. Some people may agree with me while others may hold contrasting views.

Especially those who have known me for many years may frankly be surprised to

see what I now think; my opinions are strong and in some circles may elicit

controversy.

Over a two-day period recently a series of events occurred

that gave me cause to wonder what this world is coming to. Since I use a long

white cane, it is apparent to people that I am blind. The things that happened

to me were small events that might almost have gone unnoticed, yet their very

occurrence made me notice how much things have now changed.

It all started one Friday morning, not unlike any other

day. First, fighting the urge to hit the snooze button just one more time so

I could sleep for five more precious minutes, I finally rolled out of bed and

got ready for work. Then I was on my way.

The Metropolitan Washington, D.C., area has a strong

public transportation infrastructure, with many bus lines and an extensive subway

system called the Metro. During rush hour the trains run roughly every three

to four minutes, and they are typically extremely crowded, especially during

the 8:00 hour. When I approached the fare gate, the Metro station manager never

offered to assist me through, even though the crowds were hectic. Once I got

through the gate and made my way toward the escalator, in spite of all the people

around me, not even one pointed out that I was coming close to the moving stairway.

When I did make my way down the escalator, I was just in time to catch the next

train, which was approaching at that very moment. Once the doors opened, no

one made an effort to help me find the door. In fact, I had to locate it myself.

Upon boarding the packed train, I stood along with many other people. Near the

door are seats above which appear signs clearly stating that people who sit

there should give priority to seniors and to people with disabilities. Yet no

one offered to give up his or her seat, so I stood all the way to my Metro stop,

a ride of about twenty minutes. Even when the people in the designated seats

stood up to disembark, others who were closer to the seats just took them for

themselves, never once offering me the opportunity to sit down, even though

my cane made it obvious that I was blind and covered by Metro's priority seating

policy.

Upon reaching my stop, I stepped off the train. Again,

no one even offered to direct me to my Metro exit. Not one person asked me which

exit I wanted, followed by the question, "Do you need help getting there?"

Instead, they went on their way and did not offer to assist me in the least.

Traveling up a set of escalators, I had to follow others

almost in single file. No one offered to allow me to go ahead of him or her.

The same thing happened when I made my way up a second set of escalators that

took me to the street level. As I walkedto the corner along with a number

of other rushing people, I did not receive even one offer of assistance in the

form of advice about when it was safe to cross the busy intersection. "My

gosh! What is this world coming to," I thought.

Later, at the end of what felt like a very long workday,

I decided to go get a bite to eat. Because of the popularity of the restaurant

to which I was going (the Cheesecake Factory), the waiting time was quite extensive.

To be seated, individuals or groups were placed on a list and seated in first-come,

first-served order. That evening I was dining alone. Though I was using my white

cane, I was not seated ahead of anyone else. The greeter just took my name down

and said, "Alright, sir, the waiting time is approximately forty-five minutes."

And wait I did.

Luckily for me, in spite of the long wait and long dinner,

I still had time to catch a late movie. When I got in line to buy a ticket,

nobody invited me to move in front of him or her. Then, when I finally got to

the ticket window, in spite of recognizing that I was blind, the box office

cashier charged me full price. She did not even consider the fact that I am

blind and would not be able physically to see the movie for which I was paying

admission.

The next day I needed to do some laundry. I made my

way to the apartment's common area laundry room with full hands. I had a laundry

bag in one hand and my cane in the other. Other apartment residents were obviously

using their Saturday to do their laundry too. Though they were strangers, I

greeted them with hellos just to be neighborly. In a friendly way they greeted

me in kind, but never at any point did they offer to help me find an empty machine

or offer to show me how they worked. They just went about their business. As

was the case the day before, I wondered, "What is this world coming to?"

I could not help wondering why all of this had happened to me. What had I done

to deserve such treatment? Why was I in these altered situations with increasing

regularity? Why didn't people even stop to think about my blindness when I was

using a cane more than five-and-a-half feet long?

Before reading on, pause and think carefully about your

perceptions of my situation. I firmly believe that what took place illustrates

the progress that blind people have made because of the National Federation

of the Blind! For decades, since this organization's founding, we have battled

hard for first-class citizenship, the central philosophy of which asserted that

blind people should have the same rights and responsibilities as everyone else.

Blindness, we assert, can be reduced to a nuisance when people are given the

proper training in basic skills and the opportunity to succeed. Insistence on

equality of opportunity has been the thrust behind our collective decision to

organize and to speak for ourselves. My experience during these two days proves

more than ever that equality is already well within our grasp. We do not seek

special treatment, and we do not seek handouts. Instead we are determined to

earn the same rights and carry the same responsibilities of citizenship as our

sighted neighbors. And we will do so with vigor, determination, a fire in our

hearts, and a positive philosophy of blindness that enables us to carry ourselves

with confidence.

So in response to the question

what is this world coming to, I believe I have the answer. It is maturing to

the point where blindness is as incidental and commonplace to those around us

as we ourselves find it. We enjoy more opportunities today than at any other

point in history. Better still, while blind people continue to stop the cycle

of negative attitudes leading to limited success in themselves, the same change

of attitude has been taking place in the general public, since our words and

actions are demonstrating this philosophy to be both time-tested and true. Make

no mistake about it. The world has changed for the better because of the National

Federation of the Blind.

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