by Kimberly Aguillard
EDITOR�S NOTE: Kimberly Aguillard is the Secretary of the Texas Association of Blind Students.
I could feel my face turning various shades of pink and then a deep red as I was seated at a table in our school cafeteria.� Ballots were being passed out for Homecoming Court, and for at least the seven hundredth time, I promised my friend Andrea through clenched teeth that I would get even with her in some horrible way for putting my name on the nomination list.� I was coping with the embarrassment as coolly as possible, cracking jokes about my name being on the ballot.� We were instructed to circle only three names out of the thirty or so listed.� Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the ballots were taken up and, much to our disappointment, we were ordered to return to class.� Several friends rushed up and enthusiastically assured me that I had gotten their votes.� This little humiliation was pushed out of my mind until several weeks later.� This sounds like a normal incident of a normal teenager's life.� That is exactly what it is.� I am a sixteen-year-old and I go through a wide range of emotions about every twenty minutes, just as other teens do.� What makes me a little different is that I am blind.� I have been what professionals call "legally blind" my whole life.� When I was nine, I had several surgeries that resulted in the loss of whatever sight I did have.
I am the second oldest of five children and my parents have never treated me differently than any of my siblings.� I credit that fact for making me down to earth and typical.� My parents knew that I might have to try different ways to perform tasks, but the tasks still had to be done.� So, we would brainstorm and find a way for me to do them.� I am grateful for their unwavering confidence in me.� They always knew what I needed and they searched for answers.� This searching led us to the National Federation of the Blind and the Louisiana Center for the Blind.�
I attended the center's summer program for children, unwillingly, when I was twelve.� In the Buddy Program, I learned an enormous amount about myself and blindness.� I was a different person when I returned.� I had confidence in my skills and I had a desire for independence that I really didn't have before.� This was the point in my life when the box of potential inside of me was unlocked.� I looked at problems as challenges, not insurmountable obstacles.� I returned one more time to the Buddy Program.� Later, I attended the center's Summer Training Employment Program (STEP).� Each time, I learned a lot more then I bargained for!
I was challenged again and again to set higher goals and to achieve them.� I feel certain that if my parents and the NFB had not pushed me to achieve my goals and follow my dreams, I would not have the accomplishments that I do.� If I didn't have good cane skills, it would take away from my fun in social situations, like dances or parties.� I could never keep up with my friends' break-neck pace in the mall or at school.�
Perhaps most importantly, if I didn't have skills and instead was always worrying about how to get from point A to point B, I would never feel comfortable enough to be myself.� I am an outgoing person.� I love to meet new people and mingle.� I love to go to parties and to shop for clothes with friends.� The only thing that may hold me back is a shortage of cash, a problem which is common to most teenagers.� I am very involved in clubs and organizations at school.� One of the jobs of Student Council is to make a float for our Homecoming Parade each year.� At first, I was uncertain about what I could do to help.� There were people everywhere and the scene was pretty chaotic.�
Six years ago, I would have sat in the corner, feeling awkward, until someone pulled me out and brought me into the group.�� But now, I knew all I had to do was find a thing that needed to be done and figure out how I could do it.� So, I took charge of the situation and found some things to do.� I helped cut the tissue paper into strips and stuff it into chicken wire.� There are ways to be helpful, you just have to be assertive and find an effective way to do the job.
Every once in awhile, a pleasant surprise plops into your lap and brightens your day.� Once or maybe twice in a crazy lifetime you get a surprise that knocks you over.� I got one of these when I was told that I made Homecoming Court.� I just felt incredibly lucky that night when "Junior Duchess, Kimberly Aguillard" was announced and the crowd from the stadium, my friends, and family erupted into applause and whistles and shouts.� One by one, the Dads escorted the girls onto the football field and into the heart that the drill team made to surround the Homecoming Court.�
When the last member of the court was on the field and the heart closed, I felt like I was about to burst with happiness.� My friend, Andrea, (who had nominated me) has not stopped demanding my gratitude since then.� This great experience would not have happened to me if I did not have enough confidence to be myself.� For that, I thank my parents and the NFB.