We're Satisfied with Our Product

We're Satisfied with Our Product

Future Reflections March/ April 1983, Vol. 2 No. 2
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WE'RE SATISFIED WITH THE PRODUCT
By Gary Wunder
My earliest memories of home life revolve around
two very different characters -- good mom and terrible
dad. I can remember waiting in bed for dad
to leave and sometimes going to bed before he got
home. His working hours were good in this
respect as starting his business required him to
leave at six in the morning, returning home between
eight and nine at night.
It is probably accurate to say that the first few
years of my life were spent hating my father. It
was only after I came to love and respect both of
my parents that I could look back and understand
what caused such feelings.
The fact that I was blind made others try to protect
me from everything. This provides the
perfect situation for children to manipulate adults,
and I certainly did my share. Not only was I overprotected,
but in fact, I was spoiled. My father was
the only exception to this rule, and I simply could
not understand why he treated me so differently.
As I grew, I found myself wanting to do more and
more. First there was the bicycle which I was certain
I could master. Other relatives were skeptical
of a blind person riding a bike, but strangely
enough, my father was supportive. The same
scene was repeated over and over again as I
desired to do new things. Even my father must
have been a bit shocked when he came home with
a motorcycle to repair and sell, only to find I had
claimed it as my own.
As I grew older, I began to see that my opportunities
to do and try new things sprang from my
father's willingness to trust my good sense and
judgement. I also began to see that my expanded
opportunities came at a cost of respect and good
will, and my father was the one paying that bill.
Sometimes he was called careless, and sometimes
his own father referred to him as "stupid." Even
so, he continued to believe he was raising a normal
capable son, and he was determined that his son
have every opportunity to grow.
At our editor's suggestion, I decided to pose some
questions to my father. Below are some of the
things I asked, along with my comments.
Gary: What did you think when they told you I was blind?
Father: I knew they switched kids! Your mother cried and was very upset, but I just didn't have any feelings at the time. I just figured we'd make it all right.
Gary: What did you do for me that was different
than with my brothers and sisters?
Father: Well, we just let our sighted kids go, and
treated you the same. When your blind kid is
seventeen months old and you whip him though,
everybody says you are a ..., well, they all said I
was mean.
Gary: Mean may be an understatement when you
consider that one of your friends threatened to
put knots on your head if you ever whipped me
again!
Gary: Did you have any particular worries or expectations
about me?
Father: Well, we figured we'd have you around
longer than any of the rest of them (my two
younger brothers and a sister). You're on your
own, but we still can't get rid of them. I always
wanted you to be a lawyer.
Gary: Did you and mom ever have any conflicts about me?
Father: Yes, she thought you never lied.
Gary: I remember well the first time you and mom
caught me in a lie. We lived in a house with a
sliding door made of glass. When the door was
shut no sound could come through. I was on the
patio and decided to break some soda bottles on
the concrete. After breaking a few, the sliding
door opened, and I was asked if I was breaking
bottles. Knowing that they could not possibly hear
my activity, I said, "No." This is my first recollection of thinking that they must have some special
way of knowing things. If I couldn't hear them
through that door, how in the world could they
know what I was doing? My mother recalls saying,
"I thought you couldn't tell a lie," and remembers
me saying, "Well, now you know." It was you,
always in character, who administered the
discipline.
Gary: What advice would you give to parents who
have just discovered they have a blind child?
Father: Give him back! Actually, I would say the
most important thing is for the parents not to
treat their children like they are handicapped. I
honestly don't feel its a handicap with everything
you have done. You've just lived with it.
Gary: If you had it to do over again, what would
you have done differently?
Father: Oh, I really can't think of anything. We're
satisfied with the product.
Many of our readers may remember Gary Wunder
from his article, "The Joy of Summer," from the
April, 1982 issue of Future Reflections. Gary is
very active in the National Federation of the
Blind and is the immediate past president of the
NFB Missouri affiliate. He is a Senior Analyst
Programmer and supervisor at the University of
Missouri Hospital Recently, he was given the
Employee of the Year Award from the university.
This is quite an honor in a system that employs
about 5,000 people. Gary is not yet a father, but he
assures me that he and his wife, Ruthanne, are
"working on it."
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