Author Archives: blindbeader

It’s Not About the Oranges

12 Saturday Mar 2016

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I never thought I would write a blog post about a fruit I seldom eat, but I also never thought that Twitter would nearly blow up over… oranges.

 

Whole Foods, an American grocery chain generally marketed to the upwardly mobile and/or environmentally conscious recently stocked pre-peeled oranges wrapped in plastic. The backlash on social media was swift: Who is too lazy to peel their oranges? And all of that plastic CAN’t be good for the environment… right? Whole Foods then issued a statement that the product was a “mistake” and they pulled it from their shelves.

 

In response to – if not defense of – this product, many people with illnesses or disabilities that make peeling and cutting fruits and vegetables a painful challenge (if not impossible) chose to use this as a teaching opportunity. I’ve written a bit about social media activism, and while an argument can be made that much of it might seem angry or whiny, I found the tone of this particular activism was more informative. It brought to the consciousness things I’ve never considered myself, because I’ve been blessed with two steady hands that make cooking and food preparation a generally (though not always) safe life skill. But what if I had limited dexterity or severe joint pain? What if I had to worry about coordination or seizures? I don’t live with these things, and that’s a blessing, but many people do… and many have articulated that products like this are accessibility needs, not wants.

 

Leaving aside the general price-points of high-end markets, I’ve enjoyed the general tone of this conversation, at least the respectful bits that discuss the seeming gap between environmentalism and access to healthy food. Whether Whole Foods put this product on their shelf, or another grocer somewhere else, the topic will continue to be brought up in various incarnations. What is the difference between pre-peeled oranges packed in plastic and pre-sliced mushrooms packaged the same way? No one bats an eye about that. How about personal servings of yogurt, pre-shredded salad mix, or juice boxes with plastic-wrapped straws? Many of these foods are considered “convenience” foods, and no one can argue that they aren’t as environmentally friendly as buying that big tub of yogurt or that large carton of juice. Convenience in and of itself isn’t always bad, especially if it makes life easier and healthy food more easily preparable for everyone. No one seems to bat an eye at these “convenience” foods as much as the oranges, perhaps because they are portable and self-contained right off the shelf. But I, for one, may never think of them the same way again. What if I couldn’t peel my own orange, for whatever reason? Would I have to try and hide my “convenience” food purchases for fear of being judged as not caring for the environment? Would I, as others have suggested, have to call someone over to my house to peel my apples for me if I get peckish in the middle of the night? Thanks, but no thanks…

 

The discussion that this little fruit has brought may never go away completely, and it’s not an either-or debate. The suggestions have been swift and numerous to intersect convenience, attainability, and environmentally friendly. Suggestions ranged from simply pointing out that there are worse or different ways of being poor stewards of the earth, to suggesting that some of the cost of pre-packaged food can go into research and development for more environmentally friendly containers and wrapping. None of this is a one-sided debate, because it is like comparing… well, apples to oranges. If I walk to a grocery store and buy some pre-packaged food, am I leaving more of a carbon footprint than someone who drives to the grocery store and buys all of their products in bulk? There are no easy answers to these questions, but the conversation is worth having. I may not be a card-carrying environmentalist, but I like to do what I can for the planet. And if someone wants to buy a pre-packaged salad, for whatever reason, it’s nobody’s business but theirs. Besides, if you want to raise a stink about plastic-wrapped vegetables, what about the plastic bag of chips in your shopping cart?

Painting Pictures of Egypt

04 Friday Mar 2016

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Change is an inevitable part of life – or it should be. Whether moving house, obtaining or losing or changing jobs, attending or leaving school, starting new relationships or ending them, getting married or divorced, having a child, or losing a loved one… we’ve all experienced change in some way or another. Some of these changes are joyous and should be celebrated, some are sad and tragic and need to be mourned, while others are some shades of happiness alongside those of sadness.

 

I started thinking about change this past week when I had an opportunity to visit my family and friends in the Vancouver area. It was a much-needed respite from job-hunting, though I was able to submit resumes and schedule interviews from there, so I guess it wasn’t a true “break” from it. But I found myself shocked at some of the changes in myself, in people I knew and in how they related to me. In her beautiful song, Painting Pictures of Egypt, Sara Groves speaks longingly of where she’s been and where she’s going, how she misses what used to be but has to keep pressing forward. I often found myself thinking of this song during my trip, as even back in Edmonton, parts of my life are in a state of transition.

 

One of the biggest changes that my friends and family were confronted with was the addition of my guide dog. Guide dog travel is different in some ways to cane travel, and I found myself being given landmarks (electrical boxes, flower pots), and then Jenny trying to guide around them. it was a bit of a head trip to me and to those around me, who’ve only seen me with a cane… not to mention an opportunity to learn, yet again, how Jenny works best. It was an opportunity to show grace to myself, my dog, and those around me… and I am ashamed to admit I was not always graceful.

 

One Saturday afternoon, I witnessed two things back to back that highlighted the highs and lows of life. A dear friend from high school got married! It was a beautiful, elegant, but simple wedding that outlined the  deep love and commitment that they had for each other. Not long afterward, I spent time with a relative who currently lives in a care home. This was really hard to handle emotionally, as I hadn’t seen him in several years, and he was not quite fully present in the room with us (frequently asking who I was, etc.) On the heels of a celebration of love, witnessing this change in him was truly sad and painful, even as I sometimes regret what could have been…

 

I have seen over the past few years many people I know who are forced to confront change in a much more direct and personal way. Whether it’s a medical diagnosis, the loss of a spouse, or the sudden onset of disability, I can only look with them and admire their tenacity. many of these circumstances are painful, threatening to cut them to the core, and yet many will reach out with grace and tenacity and grit that even they never knew they had. Even those who struggle through pain are strong in their own way. Many of these people don’t have the luxury of many of us; they truly can’t go back to where they’ve been, or at least live the exact way they used to.

 

Now that I am back home, I am confronted with more changes. Being between jobs is infuriating and invigorating, yet I can’t wait to get back to work. The seasons are changing from winter to spring, which brings on some fun allergies, even as the temperature warms up and I can hear the birds singing. In some ways I want to go back to where I’ve been, but it doesn’t seem to really fit me anymore. I can look forward with one eye over my shoulder back to where I’ve been, or keep both eyes on the road in front of me. Maybe I will go back, maybe I won’t, only time and circumstances can tell that. But in my pictures of Egypt, I won’t be leaving out the painful bits, because I can’t live life with rose-coloured glasses… and life is too messy for all that…

Book Review: For the Benefit of Those who See

29 Monday Feb 2016

Posted by in Book reviews, Nonfiction

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One of my blog’s most consistently viewed posts is this one, regarding the portrayal of blind characters in books. Because of this, I’ve decided to do a monthly book review, alternating between fiction and nonfiction, beginning with this book that created quite a stir in the blind community when it was first released.

 

For the Benefit of Those who See

By: Rosemary Mahoney

I chose to review this book because of this article that made the rounds of social media nearly two years after its publication. I found it well-rounded and compassionate, at great odds with reviews of this book. After mentioning this disparity  to a friend, I realized that I needed to read the book, to form my own opinion. Nearly a month after putting the book down, I still find myself incredibly conflicted by it. How can I be so awed by some beautiful friendships and inspired by the resilience of many of the blind students, yet put off by some of the awkward and inappropriate behavior and the fixation on everyone’s eyes?

 

Some Unnecessary Detours

 

The introduction to this book begins with a rather graphic description of an eye surgery. This is not for the squeamish. Perhaps the author uses this to reminisce about her own temporary blindness, how scared she felt. Then she uses this as a springboard to how she got involved with Braille without Borders. The first couple of chapters tend to jump around unnecessarily; I honestly found myself not caring about Rosemary herself, as her own experience of blindness was temporary and she was able to go back to her sighted life, with a seemingly perpetual fear of blindness itself. Later in the book, she describes the perception of the blind in wider western society, beginning in the eighteenth century and ending midway through the twentieth. The placement of this information was between the two sections of the book (the school in Tibet and that in India), which was quite logical, but the author didn’t cite any historical data from eastern countries, nor did she truly address the strides that have been made in western society in the past sixty years. It appeared that she viewed her ideas through the lens of a contemporary western chronicler, while not really addressing many of the true social realities that have historically been lived in the east. In these ways, the book takes off on tangents that may be informative as their own volume, but were cobbled together as a west-meets-east education model that doesn’t truly convey either particularly well.

 

I Did Find Inspiration Here

 

Unlike many other reviews by blind people, I did find myself truly awed by some of the students and their friendships portrayed in this book. I chuckled at the seriousness of the 12-year-old braille teacher, was touched by the young girl who persistently physically refused to allow a classmate to disengage by constantly praying for a cure, laughed out loud at the friendship of two loud and rather bawdy students at the school in India. Two young girls took Rosemary through a crowded Tibetan square, and showed her how they used their other senses to determine where they were; they were neither self-pitying nor constantly happy, yet they simply gave Rosemary the information they had. I was awed by many of the blind students’ resilience, not because they got up and got out of bed in the morning and did what they had to do with little or no vision, but they did so in a society that truly didn’t know what to do with them, and with little or no governmental or family assistance, sometimes fleeing truly abusive family environments.

 

But… But…

 

Some of the behaviors described in this book were truly cringe-worthy. I would hate to see any other group of people walk around with tea streaming down the backs of their shirts, waving long sticks around, crying out how glad they were to be (insert disability/race/gender here). It baffles my mind that in one breath, the heart-warming friendships and terrific adaptability of the students are wonderfully depicted, then in the next some of these same students are acting with the social grace of a toddler. It surprises me that a confident blind woman who runs the school would not address these behaviors; if she had, perhaps the author could have described the strides the students were making as she did with their computer learning. But as it stands, my western mind just can’t compute the disparity, especially in countries and cultures where cleanliness and propriety are quite important.

 

Educational Advantage

 

Two schools are described in this book. They provide food, shelter, and education for blind students, both children and adults. My opinion on blind schools has been documented here, and yet I applaud the author’s ability to detail the complex nuances and ironies at play for blind students in Tibet and India. In cultures where families run farms, and sighted children work on the farm, their blind child/sibling has an opportunity for an education. It’s one of the few times in which blindness has its own unique advantage.

 

Fixation on Eyes

 

I grew very uncomfortable with the author’s seemingly endless descriptions of people’s eyes. Many blind people wish we could make eye contact, but are uncertain how best to do this appropriately. Some of us are self-conscious about how our eyes appear to others, and based on the never-ending descriptions in this book, we have every right to be. Very few, if any people, were described as having nice eyes, and it appears that those who did have “normal” eyes had their blindness questioned by the author because of their confidence and social normality (see above). If eyes are the window to the soul, I’d hate to think of how soulless we are.

 

Conclusion

 

There are some nuggets of beauty in this book. Unfortunately, they are dispersed throughout outdated, unnecessary, and demeaning information. Even now, more than a month after concluding this book, I can’t seem to get it out of my head. As someone who lives in the “world of the blind”, I object to the characterization of us – of me – based on what my eyes do or don’t do, and the truly horrid manners exemplified in these pages. And yet, I draw inspiration, perhaps as the author intended, from the depictions of deep friendships, of learning despite the naysaying of family and society, of falling down and getting back up. I am glad I chose not to throw the baby out with the bathwater, but that bathwater is truly quite murky.

 

2.5/5 stars.

 

If you have any book recommendations, or wish me to review books more or less frequently than monthly, please comment below!

When WE are the Problem

19 Friday Feb 2016

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No one can deny that people with disabilities are treated by society at large much differently than able-bodied ones. Social media activism over the past couple of years has given voice to movements like #StopAbleism and #TheAbleistScript, where people with a wide range of disabilities have articulated comments and ideas that have been whispered around us, shouted into our faces, or become internalized in our own lives. This is not to say that the situation is hopeless – far from it – but though a lot of work has been done, we have a long way to go to be treated as equals in a world that simply doesn’t know what to do with us, and occasionally doesn’t seem to care if we speak up for ourselves.

 

But, you see, my dear readers, there’s a flip side to this equation. If we don’t hold ourselves up as true equals, then how dare we expect others to treat us as such? I’m not talking about receiving accommodations so that we can access the same materials, buildings and facilities as our able-bodied classmates, coworkers and fellow consumers; I’m talking about feeding into stereotypes of low expectations, social awkwardness, and refusing to engage that wider world that doesn’t quite see us as human. Be mad at me if you want, but someone’s got to pull no punches. You and I can be contributors to our own experience of ableism, discrimination, and inspiration porn. Here’s how.

 

Over-sharing of the Mundane: Low expectations

Blame the selfie if you want, but over the past few months I’ve seen a ton of blind people (in particular) posting frequent videos of themselves working their guide dog, taking the bus or walking through Target. Many of these are not product education, technology or skill tutorial, or even informational videos, which appear to be extremely popular these days, but they’re just chronicles of ordinary people doing ordinary things. Maybe sighted people do this… I don’t know. Or perhaps I have friends online who have better things to do with their time – like make cool bicycle-repair tutorials, or share awesome and obscure tunes from Youtube. Sure, everyone shares pictures of the biggest chocolate cake they’ve ever seen, posts videos of their dog going crazy seeing snow for the first time, or vents about their bad day… that’s all part of the human experience in the social media world. But I’ve seen many videos filmed by blind people that are just… life! And they share it loudly and widely as though it’s a HUGE accomplishment to show the world how their guide dog takes them through a local pharmacy. I’m not against sharing life experiences – the happy, the sad, the ones that make you raise your eyebrows – but these videos about how courageous you are for taking a bus in a new neighborhood (while it might be very true for you) perpetuate the idea that all blind people feel and act this way… and WE DON’T! If you need support and encouragement, YES, reach out and grab it with both hands. If you’re a talented singer or musician, post those videos, by all means… but blindness has nothing to do with your talent. Video is a powerful medium and, for good or for ill, it shows the things that we’re truly proud of in our lives, and frankly I want us to be proud of accomplishments because they are accomplishments in and of themselves. As my new friend Nicole recently wrote so eloquently:

Think about the larger, sweeping, massive ramifications of allowing someone to think your day to day is amazing, inspirational, courageous. Think about the fact that you’re not just allowing it, you’re encouraging it by creating and posting videos or articles that evoke EXACTLY that response.

 

 

Social Awkwardness: We Just Don’t Belong

Everyone has foibles, eccentricities, preferences, and quirks. It’s all part of the human experience. But perhaps because we’ve never been taught, many blind people fall into habits that are at best odd and at worst damaging to the rest of us. We should be comfortable with who we are, neither denying our blindness nor emphasizing it so much as to make us look like toddlers who can’t care for ourselves appropriately. A recent hashtag on twitter has become a “parody” of sorts, claiming to represent the “funny” side of blindness.I’m not against laughing at the funny things we’ve sometimes confused with others, but I have never found jokes infantalizing us (“discovering” we’re dressed in matching clothes!) or emphasizing blindie-clique dynamics (see below) funny. In fact, they perpetuate the idea that we’re just too strange and awkward to be taken seriously, and who wants to hire or educate someone so awkward or “other” for anything other than than a source of inspiration?

 

Social Isolation: Using Sighted People for their Vision

I am by no means belittling the support of others who share the journey of blindness and visual impairment; in fact, I posted about how awesome and supportive it can be not that long ago. But hiding ourselves amongst exclusively those same people does little to dispel the idea that we are somehow “other” and too “unique” to be bothered connecting with on any meaningful level. perhaps out of necessity (Canada has a small enough blind population that this is possible), or perhaps because I am social by nature, my world has been blessed with terrific friends, blind and sighted. But I notice many blind people who never ever seem to socialize much outside the blind community, with sighted people primarily filling in the role of driver or shopping assistant. This isn’t to say that I would turn down a ride offered by a friend, or indicate that I like grocery shopping alone (I don’t). Nor am I indicating friendships can’t spring out of such arrangements. But just as we wish to be viewed as people, we need to treat others in this way. Keeping exclusively, even primarily, to our social blindie cliques and relegating sighted people into primary positions of driver or guide is no better than us being confined to the role of musician or couch potato. In fact, it’s worse; we know how crappy it feels.

 

Abusing the System: Accommodation at All Costs

I’m a firm believer in computer programs, web sites, and buildings being accessible to people with disabilities. I also believe that it’s essential for workplaces or educational institutions to make all accommodations possible to include us on the job site or in the classroom, not only for our benefit, but for theirs. But it is also our responsibility to ease the way forward for our employers, our service providers, and our professors.If we can make the available mainstream technology work (and much of it works well), then it’s up to us to do so. Using exclusively specialized technology – a note-taker rather than a computer, for example – keeps the barriers to education and employment higher than they need to be, and perpetuates the idea that we’re just too hard to accommodate, so why should an employer or university bother? In many developed countries, it is not uncommon to receive some funding to cover what can be extreme costs of technology. I got stuck in a catch-22 system, where I couldn’t get funding without a job, and I needed that technology to be able to obtain a job. This is sometimes the case in other parts of the world, but sometimes people can receive funding before getting that job, and there are drawbacks to that system as well. Thankfully, it worked out for me, but it makes my blood boil when I hear about people who receive technology for simply searching for jobs who don’t obtain employment due to lack of serious effort, who don’t return loaned equipment, and sometimes don’t even use the technology anymore. It’s important for us to obtain the assistive technology that we need to be able to work, to study, to learn; but if it is not used to those ends, it’s time to be realistic and pass it along to people or agencies who are struggling for basic supplies. Hanging on to unused technology (particularly if it’s been funded) is expecting the preferential treatment we’re trying so hard to avoid. In many developing countries, access to even basic literacy tools like braille writers is almost impossible… and yet I hear of some people who get a ton of technology and don’t even bother looking for work. Stop it! Your complacency and entitlement makes it harder for the rest of us who actually need that technology to be productive. And to say nothing about obtaining employment…

 

Making Excuses: “Because I’m Blind!”

I am not one of those people who thinks everyone should be able to cook a 4-course meal, have a spotless house, and never ever ever ever EVER ask for help with anything. Frankly, living with the expectation of perfection is exhausting, and no sighted person is held up to those standards either. But it drives me up a wall when I hear the excuse “I can’t [insert activity here] because I’m blind.” OK, even though three years ago a blind man tested out Google’s self-driving car, the technology isn’t quite there for us to drive completely independently. Aside from that, blind people have done tons of great things – big and small – all over the world, from raising families to opening businesses to studying subjects they love. The possibilities are endlesss, truly, even if not all of us have the inclination to climb a mountain or open up a restaurant. But if you aren’t a good cook, or don’t like to clean, or don’t feel safe sky-diving, that’s your humanity talking; it is NOT because you’re blind. Don’t even go there!

 

Conclusion: Cleaning out the Dirty Laundry

I hate the idea that I am an ambassador for the blind, and yet, in some ways, I really am. And so are you. It’s a fine line between expecting perfection of ourselves and allowing low expectations to dictate the course of our lives. Both are extremely damaging and exhausting, and really not realistic. Ultimately, though, we can’t expect equal treatment until we avoid the pitfalls listed above. I never would’ve written this post had I not seen so many instances of this both in-person and online. And if I’m truly honest with myself, at points in my life I’ve even engaged in some of these problem mentalities and behaviors. But we can move on from this place. We can share our lives from the focus of our humanity, not our blindness. Even if it’s painful, we need to take a look around us and notice which of our behaviors make us stand out unnecessarily. Many people wish to befriend us, and it’s up to us to open ourselves up to the sighted world to challenge us and befriend us, not just serve us. While we still are viewed as needing the right to access, stop confusing our rights to access with abusing the ability to use the supports that are supposed to make it happen. And we must stop using our blindness as a license to be lazy and have everything done for us, because if we don’t, we’ll be back where we started, making videos of us sitting on the couch and writing blog posts…

 

I won’t pretend any of this is going to be easy. But I hope that confronting some painful realities about ourselves can spur us all to make some necessary changes. Is discrimination and ableism a problem? yes, it is. But sometimes, we’re the problem, and in those instances – and only those instances – we need to get out of the way and give the naysayers, the ableist and the discriminatory no valid reason to think that we’re useless, lazy, manipulative or uneducated. After all, as much as it’s up to us, let’s give them no valid reason beyond their own prejudice to discredit us… then they can look in the mirror and realize how they’ve contributed. But right now, I think it’s our turn…

 

*** UPDATE: Thanks to John and Brandon for tearing this post apart in a marathon podcast. Because of this, I have kept this post primarily intact, but did change a line you rightfully found offensive. I appreciate your opinions, and the fact that overall they came from a place of respect, even if you disagreed with me. This blog is nothing without readers and friends. I love constructive dialogue, and am willing to listen to any who respectfully disagree with any of my opinions. So, please, I welcome any further dialogue on this and other topics related to blindness, confidence, life…

Flying Blind

14 Sunday Feb 2016

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OK, I’m caving… since I’m a bit of a grump regarding all things Valentine’s Day, this should come as no surprise to people who know me well. For those of you who don’t, that’s OK… but you can send me chocolate or buy me a coffee if you love my Valentine’s Day post. 🙂

 

About a month ago, nearly a year after its publication, this blog post blew up twitter and Facebook. The rage was palpable from blind people all over the western world and from their partners, sighted and blind alike. I addressed many of these common perceptions  in my most popular blog post ever, so I won’t belabor the point here, but it came as a surprise coming from an organization that claims to serve the blind community.

 

English is clearly not this author’s first language, and it’s entirely possible that culture (in whatever context that is) played a role in the article itself. But I completely disagree with the idea of allowing partners (current or prospective) to be smothering and hovering – even a couple of times – until we prove to them that we are capable. Such behavior sets up precedent of one partner viewing themselves more capable than the other, due to the very nature of one partner having a disability and the other not. This doesn’t even address the idea that two partners can have a happy, healthy relationship while both having disabilities (some couples share disability, while I know others who have different ones). Either way, it’s incredibly presumptuous for anyone to think that all people with disabilities should have an able-bodied partner, or that we should “stick with our own kind”; both ideas are incredibly damaging both to our prospects for relationships and to our own autonomy in choosing partners.

 

Whatever our disability status and that of our partners, the important thing is to allow them to fly, not clip their wings until WE feel things are OK. I’m not talking about making wise financial choices about when one partner should go back to school, or keeping your spouse company while they’re cooking in the kitchen (because, like, couples should spend time together or something). In my own opinion, relationships are meant to strengthen each partner when the chips are down and life isn’t that great, to encourage each other when one or the other is struggling, to boost each other’s confidence in their own abilities and encourage each other to try new things. Any stifling, even under the guise of “protection” is almost counter-intuitive.

 

So for those who are in relationships – healthy ones, struggling ones, ones whose time is nearing an end – enjoy each other, not just today, but every day. For those who are single, by choice or by circumstance, I hope there are people in your life who will give you the wings to fly. To those who are happy, share it with others; to those who are hurting, someone – somewhere – wants to help carry you. Above all, after all the Valentine’s Day sweetness has faded, once the flowers have wilted and the candles have melted into small pools of wax, think of all those who love you now – your friends, your family, your partner (if applicable) – and those who haven’t yet crossed your path, and thank them for giving you the wings to fly. Even “flying blind” is safe when there are others who buoy you, encourage you, and help to heal any broken wings along the way.

The Little Ways…

12 Friday Feb 2016

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I threw a post to my twitter followers last week, asking for ideas for “fringe benefits” of being blind. everyone thinks of the obvious ones – boarding airplanes first, for example – but there are others. Someone sent me this list, and while some of the pointers are funny (I will cover them here), others missed the mark so thoroughly that it feeds into the stereotype that blind people don’t care about being independent or what they look like to others.

 

But I refuse to go on a rant on this subject…. so a la Tommy Edison, here are some awesome benefits of being blind:

  • If you read braille, even as a kid, you could read in the dark and your parents never found out
  • The term “lights out” meant nothing to you (for my totally blind friends)
  • You find out later that the person guiding you somewhere is immensely attractive (yes, this happens)
  • On long road trips, you never have to drive! (in my case, I hand the driver food…)
  • No one ever asks your opinion of the haircut they’re pretty sure is hideous…
  • You’re everyone’s favorite person during a power outage
  • You have TONS of ways to communicate; those “poor sighted people” seem to use visual cues most of the time
  • You never have to buy a TV for the picture quality
  • You can feel like a secret agent because you can operate a cell phone with the screen curtain on
  • If you have a guide dog (well-behaved, of course) you can bring them everywhere
  • You can hook up bluetooth headphones and “watch” movies through audio while simultaneously taking the dog out, doing laundry, and making dinner

On a serious note, as frustrating as blindness is sometimes, the support of others is amazing. Blindness has enabled me (and many others I know) to meet terrific people – sighted and blind – that I never would have met any other way. Whether it’s sharing cooking or fashion tips, providing accessible tech support options that don’t include a mouse, or simply listening and “getting it” on the occasions where blindness seems like the most frustrating part about your day, this community is one of the other best things about being blind.

 

How about you? What are some self-affirming and positive benefits you’ve found about being blind?

 

If you’ve enjoyed this post (or any others), please consider buying me a coffee… because life is better with coffee.

No more School, No more Books…?

06 Saturday Feb 2016

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A few weeks ago I had the opportunity to take part in a podcast regarding the education of blind children. At almost the same time, I found this radio documentary about whether the advent of technology is taking away the need or relevance for braille. Since it’s quite clear where I stand on the braille issue, I wanted to tackle the education questions, since (for some reason I’ll never understand) it is not infrequently assumed that all blind students attend special schools.

 

I’ve outlined briefly my educational background here; as is obvious, I was mainstreamed through my entire school history. All of my blind friends (few though they were) were mainstreamed, as Canada at the time only had one or two schools for the blind, and they were both in eastern Canada. It wasn’t until I was eleven or twelve before I spent a large amount of time with anyone who attended a school for the blind (in the US); even today, many of my friends were mainstreamed, and even those who attended a school for the blind for brief or extended periods have described many practices that would be decried by any civil rights organization (belittling treatment, lowered educational standards, etc.) While I realize this is not the case for all students at all schools for the blind (I’ve heard anecdotally how empowering such schools can be in Europe, as opposed to many in the USA and Canada), I’ve heard enough about it to cause me some concern. Instances like lowered expectations for totally blind students, allowing those with more vision to learn more skills than their totally blind classmates, not allowing those who took some mainstream classes to associate in any way with those “public school kids”… these all make me die a little inside. Even listening to some of the recorded portions of the documentary above, I cringed at the way some of the teachers talked to their students, as though they were much younger than teenagers.

 

But I cannot disagree that some students can find separate schools incredibly helpful. many smaller communities may not have the resources and facilities to assist blind students in the way that best suits them. Sometimes sighted peers will bully a blind classmate, and being in a place where they are not viewed or treated as “different” can make the difference between graduation and dropping out. If there are additional disabilities involved, a school for the blind can sometimes have the resources that a public school may not. Life skills that a public school may deem “too dangerous” or unsuitable for a blind student (cooking, workshop, etc.), and parents are unable or unwilling to teach these skills themselves, a separate school can sometimes provide such training and prepare the student to cook, clean, and perform other life tasks as a blind adult. even among some who attended schools for the blind under some of those circumstances, I’ve heard far too many comments along the lines of “They may have educated me in braille and technology and some life skills, but they nearly broke my spirit.”Many life-long students of such schools are never broken of bad habits that are socially unacceptable among sighted peers; mainstreamed kids learn (sometimes in harsh and cold ways) that such behaviors aren’t OK. I don’t think segregation is the best way to educate blind students, as it can perpetuate a certain “otherness”, but many of the resources of such institutions can be incredibly helpful for mainstreamed students who are struggling in school. I don’t have all the answers to these questions, but maybe it’s important to start a dialogue.

 

One thing that does concern me about schools for the blind might not be related to the education itself. Any job applicant is required to prove to an employer that they graduated from high school; including “_____ School for the Blind” on a resume will automatically “out” an applicant as blind right out of the gate. This doesn’t allow an applicant to allow their resume to stand on its own, with skills, talents, work and volunteer experience; Such schooling, just based on the name, will automatically show an HR manager, company CEO, or whoever looks at that resume, that the applicant is blind. Despite legislation prohibiting discrimination, like it or not, discrimination against people with disabilities still exists, particularly when it comes to employment. Why give hiring managers preconceived notions – right or wrong – about us as applicants?

 

I realize that I’m framing many of my thoughts from a western point of view, where blind people wish to be held up as equals to their sighted families, fellow commuters, and (many of whom) wish to maintain employment with mainstream organizations. But what about countries where societal views of blindness are not as supposedly enlightened as our western ones? What if blind students simply wish to… survive? Should we throw the baby out with the bathwater and assume that organizations such as this or that in developing countries shouldn’t exist, because, by gosh, we have rights? Are baby steps in the right direction still… well, in the right direction? Are abuse, deprivation, and family suspicion better than having a safe place for the blind, even though many such residential facilities offend my western sensibilities? Again, I don’t have the answers, but I have many many questions. Last week, I read a book about one of the organizations I referenced earlier (I do plan on reviewing it in full once I mentally process it further); I was touched by the empowerment many of the blind students at these schools felt, maybe for the first time, and yet dismayed by some of the childish and socially awkward behavior that was described. Does the presence of one negate the need to address the other? Or is what matters most the fact that these students are educated, whatever the cost?

 

Whether east or west, mainstream or separate,I  think what matters is that we are educated to be as productive as we can be. I don’t wish to only indicate what separate schools for the blind are doing wrong while praising mainstream schools, because even if I was very fortunate, I realize there are holes in that system as well. Ultimately, it comes down to us, and the power we choose to give to those around us, and I think that’s what concerns me most: as a blind child, you hear so many mixed messages, and you don’t have the mental maturity and life experience to discern truth from a lie. One teacher says that you’ll NEVER succeed at something because you can’t see, while another treats you like you’re a toddler; one shows you how to dissect that biology project, while another refuses to acknowledge your awkward behavior and help you improve it. At the end of the day, the best teachers are the ones that empower without condescension, push without bullying, and confront the hard stuff of life without pity. Those teachers are found in all schools, but are sadly all too rare… perhaps I’m lamenting education as a whole.

Your “Inspiration” doesn’t Pay my Bills

31 Sunday Jan 2016

Posted by in blindness

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I’ve been on the job hunt for almost a month now. It’s a very different economy from the one I saw three years ago when last seriously looking for work. Like many people, I have experience and skills; the biggest challenge I’ve found (and I am not alone) is getting call-backs for interviews.

The following statements are my own preference, based on my own experience of work, resumes, and interviewing; not everyone will share this opinion. I don’t ever pre-disclose my blindness to prospective employers unless absolutely necessary. In my opinion, it has little to do with my ability to do the job itself, and I choose not to give my interviewers any opportunities to walk into that interview room with preconceived ideas about my capabilities. The idea is, if the job posting indicates that my skills and qualifications fit, I send in an application just like everyone else; I wouldn’t apply for a job looking through microscopes or driving a truck. Sometimes this has worked in my favor; my resume has stood on its own, and my solid work history and a successful interview has landed me a great job. Other times, I learn when I get there that there are truly visual job duties that were not indicated on the job posting, in which case I choose not to assign blame. Other times, I get turned down for the job because… um…?

I recently ran into a situation (though not for the first time) where I was graciously turned down for a job post-interview. I was told that my skills and qualifications were solid, but that there were some job duties that posed a safety risk to myself and my guide dog. There actually was a legitimate case for this, so I chose to be gracious in reply… until I read the part that said my attitude and qualifications were inspirational, and the hope was that I would find a position somewhere else.

Guess what? If I wanted to be inspirational, I’d go on the motivational speaking circuit. I am looking for a job, something that can use my skills and background, where employer and employee have a functional relationship, both being realistic about the capabilities of an employee with a disability, making reasonable efforts on all sides to be accommodating. Seriously, it’s not that hard. People just have to get over the fact that I wish to be taken seriously, and actually want to work for a living, and my resume proves I have the chops to do it! I took to twitter to vent, but I never expected my little tweet to gain such traction (as of this posting, it had 50 retweets).

There are many noble causes out there aiding people with physical or developmental disabilities, those struggling with mental illness and/or poverty. What few people understand is that people with physical disabilities want to work, to be taken seriously in the classroom, boardroom, or salesroom. The more we get treated like token inspirations, the more likely we are to become recipients of aide due to poverty and mental illness. Very few well-known figures who advocate for social change and social justice due to race or gender or other protected grounds even touch on disability. Why is that? Don’t they understand that the more we get shuffled off as “someone else’s problem”, the more likely we are to get sick and tired of just being pushed aside?

In the meantime, I choose to fight, because someone, somewhere, will give me the opportunity to use my skills and background, who will take me seriously as a job applicant. It’s happened before, and it will happen again. But I have a few tough questions for social justice warriors on both sides of the disability continuum: For those who don’t acknowledge our needs at all, and choose to address discrimination based on race, creed, or gender (legitimate grievance, to be sure), why is this the case? We face more discrimination on a daily basis than many of those for whom you are fighting. For those advocating on behalf of the disability community: why is employment not front and center in many of your mandates? In my opinion, meaningful employment is quite possibly the only thing that gives those of us who wish and are able to obtain it the dignity and self-respect we so desire. And for those employers who shuffle me and others like me off, telling us we’re so inspirational for coming to the interview? Guess what: I am not someone else’s problem, and your inspiration doesn’t pay my bills.

On Personal Autonomy: No means No!

23 Saturday Jan 2016

Posted by in blindness

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I’m probably preaching to the choir with this post, and if I’m not, it’s even more important that you read it. I’ve seen enough of this attitude lately that it’s time that I tackle this head-on. People with disabilities are not here on earth to be your good deed of the day, to inspire you just for getting out of bed in the morning, to have our privacy violated on social media, to answer all of your personal questions, to allow you to pet our service dogs… either without being asked at all or having our “no, thank you” or “please don’t” be completely disregarded in the name of accepting generosity and not hurting anyone’s feelings. And lest anyone think that I’m being too harsh, it’s not my intent in any shape or form. But I’ve come across a large number of articles over the past couple of weeks that have addressed aspects of this on a smaller scale… so it’s obviously not just me.

 

It started with this article. While I do take exception to the author’s tone (which I did find incredibly angry), if you read beyond it he has a lot to say about personal space and the right to say no. For some reason I have never understood, I have found that many people with disabilities seem to be commodities for public consumption. We’re out in public, so someone grabs our arm to guide us somewhere with no idea where we’re going, even if there is no reasonable inference that we require their assistance other than the fact that we’re blind and it must be so! In recent conversations with people who use wheelchairs, more than once someone has grabbed the back of their chair and propelled them into position at a grocery line or to a table at a restaurant, even if they declined the offer of assistance or were never asked at all. And I’m pretty sure I’m just scratching the surface of variables of disability, public reactions, and responding to unnecessary “generosity”.

 

It is possible to decline offers of assistance graciously when they are unnecessary, even if we believe that they are so outlandish as to be demeaning. A “no, thank you” can generally go a long way. But what if it doesn’t? Is it my responsibility to graciously receive assistance I don’t require if it’s being forced on me? Am I supposed to answer all intrusive and personal questions because someone dares to talk to me in public and wishes to learn the ins and outs of my disability? The answer to these questions is generally no, unless of course I truly wish to do so. I’d like to think I have a pretty good read on people, and a pretty good system of dealing with the genuinely curious, the downright nosy, and the grabbers. But that’s hardly the point; when I say “no, thank you”, I expect that to be honored just as it would be – or should be – from any able-bodied person.

 

But when people take pictures without consent – or, worse, post them on the Internet, I shouldn’t have to be gracious about that. Above, I linked to Carly’s post on the topic, and she can address the social media aspect better than I could. But on a personal note, this disturbs me and angers me, largely because many blind people can’t see it happening, and even those that can may be unable to address the “photographer” directly. Last year a friend and I were on a train with our guide dogs, and someone across the way from us was taking a picture. We couldn’t tell for sure if it was of us and our guides, but it was in our general direction, and we didn’t overhear anything at all related to asking or indicating a picture was being taken. So we started talking really loudly about how rude it was that photos were being taken on the Subway, etc. We didn’t get any reaction from across the aisle, but I hope our point was made.

 

This all being said, it is so important for all of us – those with disabilities and those without – to be respectful if at all possible. Please don’t let this post put off anyone from asking if we require assistance, but simply to ask rather than assume. If we say yes, please don’t rub our faces in it about how great it makes you feel that you’re helping us; if we say no thanks, please honor that. For my blind/visually impaired readers – as much for myself – even if assistance is offered and not required, please take a deep breath and thank the person for the thought; I have found myself getting defensive sometimes when the sixth person in a day asks if I need help – they don’t know all that’s gone before. For my sighted readers, please tread carefully when asking personal questions about someone’s disability (the cause, the level of hearing/vision/mobility they have); the phrase “If you don’t mind my asking” goes a long way. To readers with disabilities, there’s no shame in politely stating that those questions are personal and you don’t wish to discuss them, but what about sports/music/movies? People question what they don’t know, so to them the questions are natural even if to you and me they are intrusive; they may think they have the right to ask them, but we have the right to keep whatever information about ourselves private.

 

Above all, please please please keep your hands and your camera to yourself. Many of us blind folks do know where we’re going and are using that post/garbage can/wall/doorway to navigate and orient ourselves; grabbing us away from such things may actually get us more lost than simply telling us “Just so you know there’s a wall ten feet in front of you.” Unless we are in immediate danger of getting hit by a car or falling down a flight of stairs, there’s no urgent need to reach out and grab us without warning. And we’re not zoo exhibits to show your friends on Facebook pictures of that “amazing blind girl at the mall yesterday, like, out in public and everything!” Trust me, my guide dog LOVES pictures. If you ask nicely, I might even let you pet her before your photo shoot…

Don’t Fire your Employees!

15 Friday Jan 2016

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Yesterday this post made national news, and many guide dog users praised the city of Calgary and/or the cab company for firing this driver. Having seen (though not truly experienced) this situation many times, I’m not sure I am completely comfortable with this resolution…

 

The situation is not unfamiliar to many guide dog users: a taxi driver, store clerk, mall security officer refused access to a person with a disability accompanied by a service dog. In this case, the whole incident was captured on camera, and the driver was fined $750 and lost his job for refusing access. Such incidents are not uncommon, but appear to be less common than they used to be (according to many long-time guide dog handlers I know). According to the Alberta Service Dogs Act, the financial penalty is within the limit of the law. But human resources decisions are made by companies, and I wish them to reconsider their stance on firing employees who for the first time refuse service to passengers or customers with service dogs.

 

Don’t get me wrong – I understand the implications. An employee has represented your company badly and clearly broken the law. The provincial government’s financial penalty should have teeth, but making this a job-costing offense doesn’t serve your company or the employee who is fired, nor does it in the long run serve those who rely on service dogs. Such swift action tells the employee that his actions were wrong, but it doesn’t give them an understanding of why it’s wrong. I also firmly believe that it doesn’t give other employees an opportunity to learn from the experience, except for sending the message that “they need to provide service or lose their job.

 

I propose a different remedy:

  1. The financial penalty as outlined by Alberta law.
  2. A written reprimand in the employee file. If the employee in this case is licensed by the city, the city should receive a copy of such a reprimand.
  3. A probationary period (the length of which is at the discretion of the employer/city); If the access refusal happens again, THEN fire them. At least in that instance, they can’t say in any certain terms they didn’t know.
  4. Strongly encourage such employees to volunteer with service dog organizations. I firmly believe that many of these instances are based on a lack of education on what these dogs do. Their presence can provide a disabled person a degree of dignity that refusing access strips away. Maintaining volunteer relationships with service dog organizations may provide an opportunity for service providers to learn first-hand the work that’s involved in training these dogs.

 

This does not address the very real concern of allergies, because such an issue has already been addressed. It is made very clear that if someone is allergic to dogs, reliable documentation must be provided to the employer, and all efforts must be made for the safety and access of both the disabled person accompanied by a service dog and the employee or service provider with allergies. The above suggestions are for employees who for the first time refuse service to a service dog team.

 

In no way am I saying that such behavior is acceptable; I am simply saying that education goes a lot further than lowering a hammer. If an employer wishes to fire an employee for breaking the law and representing their name badly, that is their decision. But please don’t do it in my name.