Three wise women

There are many people who have affected me regarding my blindness and life in general.
One was Rose; she was my parapro from seventh through the middle of tenth grade. She helped me orient myself to the school, brailled things, made accessible pictures for math and science, ETC. I was terrified of entering junior high; elementary school was small, and I knew how to find everything. Suddenly, I was going into a junior high with four floors and 1,000 other students trying to get to class before the 3 minute bell rang. As I’ve written before, I was terribly shy and didn’t want to say anything to anyone in authority. She was always asking me questions. “you read that poem for English; what do you think the symbols mean? You talked about the death penalty in class; are you for or against, why?” At first, I just kept saying, “I don’t know,” and she said you have to have an opinion in there somewhere. Eventually, I began sharing my thoughts, even if I didn’t tell anyone else. We talked about race and racism, how I didn’t enjoy being catholic, family, ETC. She had high expectations for me academically and independence. I slowly gained confidence traveling the halls of the school, even when she was not walking with me
Another one is Doreen. She was my parapro after Rose took a different job. Besides all the scanning, editing, and brailling with AP Euro and three foreign languages, along with four other subjects she had to Braille, she listened to me as well. By this time, I knew how to be articulate with my feelings and beliefs and wasn’t afraid to share, even if they went against others around me. I talk to her about my mom problems. I told her my point of view on politics and religion. She is liberal and Methodist, so we have the same points of view. It was nice to find someone to share these ideas with and not have them be angry because of my beliefs. I told her about what I wanted to do in the future. Back then, I absolutely loved foreign languages, especially Spanish. I was born in Paraguay South America, where Spanish is the native language. I had four years in high school, and I planned to minor in it in college. I eventually wanted to live in a Spanish-speaking area to write and live in a bilingual community. When I told her that, she was like, that's great; I think you can do it. When I told my mom, she was like, why do you want to move so far away, to get away from me? Why do you want to live where there is Spanish culture; what's wrong with English.
Besides problems, I talked to her about things that were happy. When I got my first guide Valerie, she was the first person, besides Beckie, that I called. When I completed my first solo, I talked to her about it. When I got my AP scores, scholarships, my first job at kids camp, being able to go to Texas for NFB national convention, joined clubs, I told Doreen. She went with me to foreign language competition, where I was the top winner in Spanish for our region. The top winner in each language gets an Oxford dictionary for that language. It is a HUGE book!!! When I told my mom, she was like, what are you going to do with a print dictionary? I was like, that's not the point; the point is that is a prize for winning. We also went to New York to see hairspray. My mom was llike, what is soo great about new York and musicals; they are borring. We still talk every six months or so; I tell her about my life, and she tells me about hers.
Finally, there is Cheryl. I had posted on the NFB national association of blind students e-mail list that I was interested in being a journalist; Allison, one of the board members, emailed with contact info for a totally blind journalist from Michigan. I was so excited; finally there was someone who worked in the business for 30 years I could ask technical questions, writing help, and how to complete aspects of the job related to blindness. I was unsure what to say in the email, so I just said I was a 16-year-old blind student looking to talk. I think I wanted to know if I could do page layouts and how I could edit stories in class since everyone turned them in in print. To my surprise and happiness, she wrote back. “Dear Martha,
Well, I have a little more time to write and think about your
questions. I got your e-mail last night while I was at work to write
a story for Monday's paper, and I had to scoot pretty quickly, so I
didn't write much.

I was thinking - is there any way you can print up the dummies to a
braille embosser? That would be a pretty cool thing if you had one at
school and it could interface with the print printer.
I'll try to get information on a woman who edits and does design layout for a newsletter.
Unfortunately, you might have to have a little adaptation for your editing, and perform those tasks on a computer exclusively. I edit on my computer, but really don't know of any other way except the
braille embosser idea. I have one at home, not at work.
What I most want to tell you is that, yes, a totally blind person can
work at a newspaper. I never had anyone to tell me that when I was in
school, so i planned on getting two college majors just in case the
journalism one didn't work out. But it did!
As a professional, the biggest thing you need is a good support
system of several people who can drive for you if your local bus
system doesn't go everywhere you want it to. It's a good idea to get
retired people who are strongly civic minded; they know how important
it is for you to get there on time and come off as the class act that
I bet you are.
Where do you live? Would you ever be interested in coming up here and
job shadowing with me? It'd be swell!
By the way, I took graphics, but I worked with a reader and told her
verbally what I needed done, and she did it. That's the only way I
could think of at the time to get through it. I also took editing. I,
too, worked on the literary magazine as a high school sophomore. What
I never did is yearbook - I'd love to hear about that.
This probably is the most challenging job you'll ever have. Get ready!

Cheryl”
After that, we exchanged many more emails. We expanded to talking about guide dogs, other aspects of blindness, religion, and just life. We met some time when she came to my hometown for a Christian conference and again when I went to Michigan for a dog scout camp in 2008.
That first email was 8 years ago; we both are now on different paths; I had depression as well as journalism burn out, so I went to grad school to become a teacher of blind students. The field is ever changing, and she also went back to grad school to become a rehab counselor. Even though I am no longer interested in journalism, we are still good friends. We email and have 2-hour long phone conversations. She listens to my dog ramblings and omg I don’t know if I can do this’s! She talks to me, and sometimes I have no idea what to say, so I listen and hope that is enough.
Writing is not as easy for me as it once was; it is hard for me to put things together with good detail and descriptions, especially when it is an emotional subject like this one. Being an inspiration and being thankful often brings up feelings associated with negativity, gratitude for accommodations, or pity disguised as compliments from the able-bodied public. However, in this case, I raise my virtual glass to these three women. Thank you for your overflowing cup of kindness and always treading lightly on my dreams.
This is my submission for this month’s edition of the disability blog carnival Please consider reading the other submissions and leaving comments for the authors.

first walk

A year ago today, I graduated from BLIND Inc an adjustment to independence training center in Minneapolis. For years, I had avoided going.
In the summer of 2005, I attended a training center program for high school students. It lasted 5 weeks, and since we were under 18, we had supervision 24 hours a day and weren’t allowed to have any alone time or go anywhere without a counselor and other students. That made me absolutely crazy. By the end, I was running out of patience and absolutely needed to get away from everyone. At that point, I was just starting to get comfortable with city travel. I think a part of me knew I should go for more training, but my thoughts then and for the next several years were “If 6 weeks with people made me crazy, I will never survive 6-9 months.”
After I had been in college and realized I was going to either have to go to grad school or get a new job, I knew I needed to go. Travel was, and still is, my weakest blindness skill. I think I would still get easily disoriented and be bad with directions if I were sighted.
I didn’t have good travel teaching when I was younger. As I’d written before, I wasn’t encouraged by my teachers in elementary school to walk by myself. As a result, I was one of the slowest moving people; because I was always in a group or hanging off of someone’s arm, I didn’t develop confidence to walk easily.
The first time I ever walked alone, without an adult supervising me or with a friend, I was in ninth grade. For some reason, my ride didn’t show up to pick me up from reading club after school. I was pretty sure I knew how to walk home once I got to the junior high school. I got there and walked the way I had learned with my travel instructor. I was fine till I got a block away from where I lived. I veered right into the street, and when I corrected myself, I didn’t know how to figure out where I was. Someone in a car saw me and gave me directions to get to Crawford, my street. I was so excited, and when I got home, I told my mom I had made it by myself.
After that, I practiced walking home with a travel instructor because I participated in 10 or so after school activities in high school and didn’t want to depend on a van. My mom saw something about kidnapping or something on TV, and after that, she was worried that I would be hurt and it wasn’t safe. So, I didn’t walk independently again until I got to college.

It makes me sad

I am currently going for my masters degree for teaching blind students, but my part-time job during undergrad was working with blind children and adults, helping them learn, Braille, technology, daily living skills, and talking about whatever they wanted or thought might help.
Many parents mean well; they love their children, so they think they are being helpful or protecting their blind child while they have fallen victim to low expectations.
For example, if they have other children, they would expect their five or six-year-old to tie shoes. I worked with a 10-year-old who still wore Velcro sneakers. A second grader should be allowed and able to call friends on the phone, or maybe family, and at the least know how to dial 911. A 12-year-old I worked with had no idea how to use a phone. I had to explain to him in which order the buttons were and that he had to dial numbers in a certain order so his aunt’s and grandmother’s phone would ring. When I asked his parent why he didn’t know, the person told me it was too hard to teach him. A teenager should know how to do basic kitchen things, I.E. making a frozen pizza, ramen noodles, making a sandwich, ETC. A 17-year-old I worked with didn’t know what measuring cups were and how milk got to her place at the table. She was exuberant after we made a frozen pizza and mixed a cup of instant hot chocolate. These are just a few examples of how low or no expectations hurt the children I will soon serve full-time.

Things I Wish I Knew years ago

Since I've always been blind, independence is an important issue for me. I don't know if sighted or able-bodied people ever think about it. People have cars, and they can just pick up and go whenever if they have the money and the time. Sighted children are always learning from their environment, and they watch the people around them to learn behavior.
I was a sheltered child, but thanks to a social worker, I entered preschool when I was three-years-old. I was so happy to go; I remember grabbing my backpack and running out the door. By that time, I loved books and stories, and my family told me there would be more of those there. What I didn't know how to do was talk to and play with other children. The next oldest cousin was 11 or 12, so the opportunity just wasn't there. I had a cane and took it with me whenever I went with my family, but I wasn't encouraged to explore. There I was in an unfamiliar environment with all of these other people I didn't know. I don't remember when it happened, but the teachers encouraged me to walk around the room and touch everything. They did the same thing outside on the playground. Eventually, after a couple weeks, I started talking to and playing with the other kids. Some of our favorite games were pretending to drive the cars, racing to climb the jungle gym and slide down the pole, and climbing in and out of tunnels and boxes.
As the year progressed, I became talkative, but I was still scared of new experiences. We had show and tell, and people brought pets to school. I attended preschool all day, unlike most children who went either for the morning or afternoon session. Someone brought in a kitten; I wouldn't touch it. Another time, the teacher brought in a bunny. I was so scared it was going to get me that I sat in a chair all morning and refused to go anywhere in the classroom. By the afternoon, everyone was playing with the bunny, and I decided to go over to it. Of course, it didn't do anything to me, and my classmates and I spent at least an hour trying to get it to hop and play with us. Parents and teachers of blind children should encourage them to explore and look at everything if they can. It is good to have them around as many different people and animals as possible, especially if there is the opportunity for a play group. I wish I had had that chance, and it is something I encourage my students to do now and will continue it in the future.
Another thing I wish I knew was how to keep advocating for myself when I was little. By the time I was in kindergarten and first grade, I was outspoken. I had an aide with me who would walk withme from classes, help me at lunch, help me on the playground,ETC. Children are not tactful, so I was always saying I can do it myself. One morning, she wanted to tie my shoes for me and carry my tray. tole her to go away and I ddidn't need her help! This made her cry, and she told the first grade teacher. I also told her the same thing later in the day when I wanted to walk back from lunch to class. Some time later, maybe the next day or next week, a teacher pulled me aside. She took me into a closet and shut the door. She kept telling me I needed to be a good girl and not sass my aide; she was there to help me, and I should let her do her job. I remember it wasn't a nice tone of voice. I was scared, but I continued telling people what I could do for myself.
The thing that broke me was when I was called to a confernce. Everyone was there: the aide, the first grade teacher, the school psychiatrist, some person from the intermediate unit, the principal, and me. They kept telling me it was a safety issue, and she had to carry my tray in the cafeteria because other people could run in to me. I wasn't allowed to walk to class because I could get lost. I wasn't allowed to say what I could do for myself because it was rude and hurt people's feelings. Maybe I was allowed to at home, but that conflicted with what the teachers wanted for me at school. I just remember being really afraid of all of the adults, and I just nodded and smiled when they were done talking.
After that day, till seventh grade, I didn't speak up for myself. If someone asked me something, such as "did you miss me?" I said yes even if it wasn't true. I didn't learn to travel well because the mobility instructor I had at the time was afraid to take me outside and let me cross streets. I let my aide carry my tray and get my food, even though I should have been encouraged to learn it for myself. There won't always be someone to do the day-to-day things for a blind child, so I encourage all of my students to do as much as they can for themselves.