One year and two days ago, I threw a party with a few friends at a now-closed chicken restaurant I loved to celebrate the storied career of Jenny the guide dog.
One year and one day ago, my partner arrived home with his new service dog after two weeks away. Looking back, he had the harder job; I had two weeks with a working guide dog and three cats to watch over, only one of the cats was really upset about his absence. He had his new young working dog, my retired guide dog, and three cats to watch over while I was away… the retired guide dog was about as upset at my absence as the one cat was upset over his.
One year ago today, I started a whole new adventure. And since guide dog training is exhausting unlike anything I’ve ever experienced, blogging about it at the time was not on my radar. So now I’ll take this opportunity to write about meeting my new guide dog, through the lens of one crazy year. I’ll be writing it as a retrospective; every day was a new experience in getting to know my dog, so I’ll reveal bits and pieces every day over the next two weeks as I learned them a year ago.
One Year Ago… A Journey Begins
The bag was packed. For those who have been around long enough to remember the Intrepid Journey? That bag. Jenny saw the bag and went nuts. She wagged her tail and turned in circles and shoved her head into her harness handle. THE BAG IS PACKED AND BY THE DOOR AND WE ARE GOING!!!!
But we weren’t.
I cried my eyes out and told her she was so very good, but she couldn’t come with me to the airport even if she really really really really really wanted to. She was retired now, and I couldn’t take her with me to guide dog school; my focus would have to be getting to know and bond with my new young dog. I cried in the car while my friend drove me to the airport. I really missed Jenny’s guiding skills and love of airports while I waited for gate assistance at the airport. Traveling with a white cane is very different from traveling with a dog. I am competent at both, but find it takes far more energy to travel with a cane; the cane detects obstacles, and I’m the one who has to figure out what the obstacle is and what options I have to negotiate it. I once wrote that “my worst day with a guide dog is exponentially better than my best days with my cane, especially in unfamiliar places.” This is still true. Throw in the emotional gut-punch of Jenny’s retirement, and I was tired long before I even boarded my first flight. I think I slept all flight long.
Then I changed planes in Seattle. I disembarked and was met by someone with the ricketiest wheelchair I think I’ve ever encountered. I walked briskly with my cane and my heavy backpack and he insisted I needed to get in the chair. I kept walking and told him he could either provide me good directions, or I’d figure it out myself, but I was not getting in that wheelchair.
He made the smart choice and gave me moderately tolerable directions. I was ravenously hungry, and told him I’d like to stop for something to eat. He got me to a non-descript eating establishment/kiosk/store? (I’m still not sure what) and told me to order. I had no idea what was available (sandwiches? pizza? crackers? candy? exotic never-seen-before cheese?) Another customer showed me such compassion and told me the sandwiches looked good. I chose one at random; at that point I was so hungry I didn’t care what I ate. I then walked over to my gate, ate my passible sandwich, and thought about my new guide dog. What would they be like? Could i work with them after getting into such an amazing rhythm with Jenny? Would Jenny get along with the new dog, or be upset that I was leaving every day with another dog?
My flight was called. It was getting real now. I boarded my plane, closed my eyes, and prepared to sleep the night away as the plane flew several hours east. When I landed, I would be that much closer to meeting my new dog.
I look back over the past year, and realize just how much has happened, how hard it’s been, and how little I’ve written about the whole thing. Jenny retired. I trained with a new guide dog who, in October, was diagnosed with a mast cell tumor that thankfully got removed but resulted in a complicated healing process. My schooling misadventures feel like how I tried to write about them earlier this year – fits and starts and momentum and slammed-on brakes. We adopted a fourth cat. I’m going through a period of self-discovery that I’m not ready to discuss yet, but it does bear mentioning here because it’s part of all the things I’ve done in 2023 and will move forward into 2024.
In short… this year has been harder than I ever expected it to be. I feel like I’ve spent most of it treading water, being handed a lifeline (like a new opportunity), and then getting buried by another wave that might not be really massive, but certainly feels like it. But for the first time in most of a year or maybe longer, I feel like I’m breathing now. I know more about what I need to cope, and hope in 2024 I can share more about this self-discovery journey I’m on… but first let’s look back over 2023, such as it was.
Jenny’s Retirement
Jenny has been retired for nearly a year. She showed me in very real ways in the fall of 2022 that she was ready. My decisive dog – who made even incorrect decisions with 100% confidence – was reluctant to make decisions if there was more than one option. I still tear up thinking of the ways she tried to gently tell me she was ready – being more interested in hanging out with other people, general restlessness, slowing down on routes – until she told me in the most obvious way she knew how that she just was ready to be done. She loves retirement, but whenever I can I love taking her on leash trips to pet-friendly places; she loves those trips, too. She loves curling up and napping in her crate, enthusiastically greets me and Yasha, her successor, whenever we get home from work. She’s made friends with our newest cat, who I am convinced should’ve been born a dog. Her life is about snuggles and playtime and love, and she’s loving retirement!
Introducing: Yasha
IN January, 2023, I took a trip to Guiding Eyes for the Blind in New York to train with a 3-year-old yellow Labrador named Yasha. They tell you not to, but I had a hard time not comparing her to Jenny. Both girls are smart, both are stubborn. But where Jenny thought everything work-related was a new adventure and would do just about anything unless there was a very compelling reason not to do that thing, Yasha is more cautious and insists on a “business plan” as to why my decision(s) should override hers. The first year has been challenging in a way Jenny’s first year with me was not. I took her to the vet in October because I had some concerns about some symptoms and behaviors, and it turned out that she had a mast cell tumor. We spent most of October and November in and out of the vet – removal of the tumor, suture check post-surgery, redoing sutures when one or two blew out 10 days post-surgery, redoing sutures ten days after the first set was re-done, staples ten days later because it was clear sutures weren’t working, and then removal of the staples and hoping for the best when all of those didn’t hold. Thankfully, her prognosis is good, and her surgical site has healed over and is growing fur again!
But our first year wasn’t all about surgeries and vet visits – thankfully! We got to travel this year. Our first trip, to Vancouver, was a good experience for us. Like me, people in my life seemed to compare her to Jenny; or at the very least made comments about her hard-headedness, while I was trying to pick my battles with my new young dog. Our trip to California in December was a great team-building experience, because for the most part, it was her and I taking on Sacramento and San Francisco – areas I knew only slightly. She freaking rocked it, and loves the challenge of new places. One of her fun quirks is her “regrouping” strategy; if she figures out that neither of us know what we’re doing, she’ll take me to an out-of-the-way space to take a deep breath, get our bearings, and then come up with a game plan. She’s found great places to do this (like out of the way corners), and less than ideal ones (like bike racks), but I love her intuitiveness and how we are connecting in these ways. As I come up to one year with this smart, stubborn, serious working dog, I am glad we’ve had these times together, and I look forward to so many more adventures.
So… we Have a Whole Menagerie!
Jenny retired, I trained and brought home Yasha. My partner trained with and brought home a new service dog of his own. So, in the span of about 3 months, we adopted Madonna (a cute white and black cat that everyone calls “Maddie”), and brought home two new Labrador service dogs. This meant our household included 3 Labrador retrievers, three cats, and two humans.
So what did we do?
We adopted another cat. This one, a boy. Wiley is sweet and funny and a little bit foolish – how else can you describe laying in the middle of the floor, getting tripped on, and still not moving? We named him Wiley because he convinced us that he was a chill, mellow marshmallow of a cat… and then started tipping over water bowls in his excitement to go to a new home. He likes to sit beside me when i drink my coffee in the mornings, and can make a cat toy out of just about anything. Wiley is so sweet. He gets along with the dogs (Yasha’s his best friend in the whole wide world), loves Maddie, doesn’t mind getting bossed around by Monkey, and is still figuring out how not to get the crap beaten out of him by Wolfie. That last one is a work in progress.
Our menagerie makes us laugh every single day. Whether Jenny is trying to play with Wiley, or Monkey’s finding interesting and bizarre places to nap, or Yasha is throwing toys at whoever she wants to play with her… I laugh every single day. There’s almost always someone to snuggle with. There will always be fur on my floors, and I’ve made peace with that; but the love and laughter is worth more to me than perfectly clean floors.
School Is… School!
I’ve written before about how school is going. It’s been great in some areas and extremely frustrating in others. I’ve had course coordinators and tutors be extremely supportive – from making accessible format materials and answering all my questions, to the point of contacting accessibility services on my behalf because “it’s your job to learn the material, and it’s my job to make sure that happens” – and those that were much less helpful. I am finishing two courses right now for which I’ve requested extensions while starting two new ones. Online education for me has been a mixed bag, and I do want to write more about it as I move along this journey. But right now, writing about it seems counter-productive; it feels like I should be doing the school things, rather than writing about them.
Cool Unexpected Opportunities
As much as it feels like I didn’t do much in 2023 because I was so busy treading water and putting one foot in front of the other, I stumbled into some cool new opportunities this year. A friend reached out to me late in 2022 about a local docuseries about guide dogs she was participating in, and thought I could share my story too. At the time, Jenny’s retirement was imminent, and I felt it was just the wrong timing, especially with that experience being so raw and training with a new unknown dog, so I let it go and didn’t contact the creators and (I realize now) just hoped it would go away. But life has a funny way of throwing opportunities back at you. Next thing I knew, I was being interviewed on camera, talking about guide dogs, and – after a few months – viewing the final product. Edmonton’s Guide to Guide Dogs debuted in September and can be found on Youtube and Telus Optic TV. I’m glad I was a part of it, and hope it can entertain and educate about the important work that guide and service dogs do in our city.
On top of that, this year found me opening the door to becoming a real published author! I am one of 15 authors whose stories will be shared in an upcoming publication “Run for your Life”, which will be released in March, 2024. The writing was both easier and harder than I thought it would be; I’d written about running for years now. But telling your story as it is intertwined with other peoples’ is a complicated business. how much can you tell of your story without veering off-course and telling the stories that truly belong to others? I think I succeeded in telling my story, and am excited to hold in my hands a real physical book with my name in it!
Speaking of running… I ran my fastest half marathon in years in Edmonton in August! I also ran the Vancouver Half in May, and had a wonderful time! And in December I ran/walked a marathon! I went back to Sacramento to run the California International Marathon, even though I found out in July that the support that’s been provided to visually impaired runners for the past 15 years would no longer be provided. My training was insufficient (I had a hard time training with guides this fall), and my lack of motivation didn’t help. But I crossed the finish line and made a new friend in my guide runner in the process.
So… now what?
Normally, my partner and I light a fire and burn all the paper and cardboard things we’ve accumulated during the year as a symbol of ushering out old things so we can move forward in the new. But it’s so dry and warm that we have no snow to buffer against the fire. So… I guess… I’m thinking about the fire that will be whenever it’s safe to do so. I’m thinking about all of my hopes for 2024; more writing, more jewelry making, and maybe more music. I plan to run a marathon in 2024, but I will be careful about the race I choose, and make sure ahead of time that I’m able to secure guides regularly to train – the past two years have not made this possible. I hope to get through school and re-discover the joy an excitement that I only now realize has been left behind in much of the frustration I’ve faced over the past few months.
In short… In 2024, I just hope. I hope to breathe. I hope for strength. I hope for grace. And I hope 2024 is gentler to me than 2023 has been.
However the past year has been for you, I hope the coming year brings you love, peace, rest, discovery, joy, and productivity – in whatever healthy ways those things look like for you.
I didn’t plan on falling off the face of the planet… but of course I never plan to fall off the face of the planet.
But let’s just say the past two weeks have been… challenging.
In mid-April, I got a cold/flu/virus thing that had me sounding (and feeling ) pretty terrible. I had enough energy to do only what was necessary (work, eat, sleep) and little more. Throw in a seriously challenging lesson about annuities, and I felt very very stuck.
I reached out to my course tutor, who suggested I contact him with the specific area that I was struggling with. it sounded like a good idea in theory, but in practice, I felt like I should’ve just sent him the entire chapter of the textbook and said “explain EVERYTHING!”.
I decided to skip ahead to the next lesson (basic accounting principles) which was much more comprehensible. Then I asked around for some more assistance with annuities, which I thought I understood a bit more, then freaked out when I had exercises and quiz questions that made me feel completely out of my depth. In short, I hit a point where I decided that life was too short to hit my head against a wall. I’ll deal with it later… if I ever have to again. Thankfully my grades on the other units were good enough to put my average at a B (75%) in the class. And I have never been so glad to be done a class in my life!
Tomorrow morning, I start my next two courses: Fnce 259 (personal investing) and Acct 253 (introductory Financial Accounting). I’ve got a phone meeting with an adviser later this week to help plan my next courses once I complete these ones, and beyond. My hope is to get these two courses done in four months rather than the course contract of six for a self-funded student. I don’t know what these courses will look like, or how I will feel about them as I progress through the learning activities and then any exams I have (eeeeek!); but for today, I am excited to move forward and see what I can learn.
OK, I did not take one detour on my path to my certiciate. I took two!
In hindsight, which is always 20/20, my first detour was probably more of a catering for my need for validation than an actual practical need on my education journey.
This second one? I 100% believe I needed it.
Admn 100 – or, as I have affectionately dubbed it, “Business Math for Dummies.” – was both incredibly useful and incredibly frustrating for me. I re-discovered my hatred of fractions, and that I am surprisingly good at graphing equations non-visually. But there were some difficulties that I didn’t know about, and wouldn’t have known until partway through the course.
First off, my textbook was an etext. I’ve written before about the etext book. This one was easy enough to navigate, though I can’t say I was a big fan of the chapters and units in the textbook collapsing, and needing to expand them, rather than going and moving seamlessly and directly from one unit or section to another. Using a braille display was absolutely essential for me to quickly read any formulas, though this was not completely seamless either (it was almost impossible to tell if a numerical value was a fraction). But overall, the textbook experience was relatively simple.
The practice exercises in the textbook were doable, but I found myself going back and forth between the textbook and my computer’s calculator. The same for using the practice exercises online – with the added fun of the exercises being technically accessible (I could do them, but not without a bunch of frustration and scrolling up and down on my screen).
Enter the veritable needle in a haystack experience that was finding a talking financial calculator.
I did find one, which does much of what I needed to. However, there was only one distributor I could find in North America, which meant I paid a small fortune for shipping, plus the exchange rate. I am only now (as of about 24 hours ago) finding a couple of shortcomings with the calculator that, again, I would probably have known had their been more accessible options out there.
And the quizzes… did I mentioned I hate fractions?
Join me tomorrow when I tell the whole story behind the “it’s just a few things” inaccessible quiz experience.
When I first registered for school, I thought I would jump headlong into my degree. But the more I thought about it, the less confident I felt about this school thing. What IS expected of me? Can I manage my time well? is there something I’m missing here? And I figured I had better find out now with a course that didn’t count toward my certificate, rather than finding out later that I couldn’t study and work and train for races (and guide dogs, as it later turned out, though I didn’t know that at the time).
Enter Comm 100 – a course I affectionately dubbed “University for Dummies”.
The first thing I noticed about this course was that it contained a physical (printed) textbook. I chose to purchase the electronic copy of my textbook, just as a fact-finding mission. Other than that, I was good to go.
I learned a few things about myself during this course.
The textbook encouraged keeping a learning journal, which I kept up for about two months (one third of my course contract). But I found that was just one more thing to do, and I wasn’t getting a lot of value out of it. That might change one day, but maybe journalling isn’t for me.
I was consistent in my study habits… when I was studying. But I was not consistent with the course, in general. I found that I had great chunks of time (even as long as a month) where I would not even think about the course, or the textbook. I finished not long before my course contract end date, quite possibly because I knew I had the time and flexibility, and knew I would finish the course in the end. Not my finest confession, but I am being honest about being a student and prone to a certain amount of socially conditioned procrastination.
This course was easy to follow, with little tidbits about time management, note-taking, and critical thinking. It was not overly difficult, with the exception of the final paper which stressed me out immeasurably. There were lessons on finding sources, evaluating those sources, and general writing principles, but the paper felt like it was tagged on at the end – like a final exam without a final exam. Or maybe I just don’t like papers?
This little detour probably was not necessary, from an academic standpoint. However, I’m glad I took it – it showed me a few not-so-flattering truths about my study habits.
And because one detour wasn’t enough… I took another.
As a student with a disability, it is almost inevitable that I would need to contact accessibility services sooner or later. You can understand my hesitance in doing so, given my prior experience with disability services.
First, I had to fill out a form, about my disability, how it impacts my learning, any accommodations I would need.
Then my doctor had to fill out a form to confirm that, in fact, my eyes don’t work.
So I had finally decided on my area of study, and I was ready to take my first course in October. I decided to take a detour before jumping headlong into my certificate program (more on that tomorrow) but my first course was paid for, and I was ready to hit the books on October 1.
Except… my textbook was in hardcopy print.
I bit the bullet and decided to purchase an electronic copy of my textbook. I’d heard terrible things about the etext books – that they weren’t accessible with a screen reader, and they were frustrating, and I would 1000% need to get my books in alternative formats – but I figured I could make a small investment to find out just how bad it was. Thankfully… I had no problems with the etext book. Sure, I got a paper book in the mail, which is acting as a big paperweight on my bookshelf… but I got my textbook on my terms and I had to wait for no one.
Did I mention it took nearly two months to get my letter of accommodation? It was three weeks after my class start date before I had any kind of acknowledgement from accessibility services. Thankfully, I had purchased my etext book, and was able to start my first course with little difficulty.
My second course was…. a bit more challenging. I went to take my first unit quiz, only to find that some portions of some of the questions were not read by my screen reader. After some back and forth, discussions with accessibility services, the faculty of business, and my course coordinator, I came to find out that the portions of any questions that contained fractions were pasted as images into the quiz. The only options available to me were to (1) withdraw from this course, (2) skip the questions with fractions and hope I got high enough grades to keep on going, or (3) get the information another way. Unfortunately, there was no way for course production to make the fractions compute into plain text that a screen reader could read. Accessibility services was not able to provide the quizzes in braille in a timely manner (which would effectively press a further pause on my studies, and is an inefficient use of resources to boot). Thankfully, a solution was found, and I’ve been able to complete these quizzes as time and energy permits.
I know accessibility services in many post-secondary schools is understaffed and overworked. but I can’t help feeling a certain sense of deja vu – that I am supposed to be extra responsible for making sure I can access course materials that aren’t made as accessible as they could be. Would someone in a million years have caught the issues with my quizzes if I had not just sarted taking them? Are students supposed to check with accessible services ahead of time to make sure that each little thing is readable with a screen reader, or that all course videos have captions, or that slide presentations don’t auto-scroll? Is that even possible? And at what point is it the school’s duty to make their materials as user-friendly to the widest student body possible? Athabasca University uses ProctorU, an online invigilator, but you cannot use ProctorU with a screen reader; this means I need to pay at least twice the price, and take time off work, to book an in-person exam. Am I missing something, or does that seem unfair?
I don’t have all the answers, but as my “detour” courses wrap up, and I start my certificate in earnest in May, I can’t help feeling a mix of complicated emotions. Do I request alternate format materials that I may not need, further burdening stretched-thin resources, or do I do the best I can with what I have, hope for the best, and try and advocate in the middle of the trenches? Do I push for equivalent exams in both cost and flexibility, or pick my battles and bite the bullet on this one?
I don’t have those answers… I just hope I don’t have to find them while cramming for my first final exam.
As it has been pointed out to me that it looks like UBC (University of British Columbia) might have something to do with my educational journey, it might be worth clarifying that I am not currently, not have I ever, attended the University of British Columbia. The “UBC” in this case represents the Ultimate Blog Challenge, where bloggers write a post a day for the whole month. The fact that an educational institution is in my blog post titles beside the words “Back to School” is something that never occurred to me… and that I find quite amusing.
OK, so I decided that maybe I could do this back to school thing. I’m smart, I like to learn things… so maybe I just need something that I find both practical and interesting. What could be easier?
Nooooo problem!
Not so fast there! There are a lot of things I could study. So where do I start?
The idea of pursuing a four-year degree seemed just as daunting in 2022 as it did when I graduated from high school. But Athabasca University had certificate programs. I could do that! I could try this school thing, get a shiny piece of paper at the end of it, and not be committed to a full degree (however long that would take, given I could not commit in time or funds to a full course load). And if I did like it? I could have a degree!
I seriously considered the certificate in French Language profficiency. I honestly can’t recall the reasons I chose not to pursue it; I think I had too many flashbacks from high school and not being certain if I could read the braille course materials I was sometimes given (French has its own braille code, complete with contracted combinations of letters, and I never did learn it well). School should be interesting and informative, not unnecessarily stressful. So… Next!
I found the Certificate in Accounting. Maaaaybe…. but it seemed too corporate for me. Something to think about, perhaps?
And then, as if it fell from the sky, I found the Certificate in Finance. It ticked all of my boxes: practical, interesting, can ladder into a degree if I want it to. Even the courses that didn’t interest me… interested me! I had some flexibility in electives, but most of the courses I would choose as electives would be part of my required courses anyway. And I know for a fact that I’ve been passed over for career opportunities because I didn’t have any financial background. I found a winner!
But I chose to take a little detour along the way. And I’m glad I did.
A conversation on a Tuesday afternoon pushed me in to thinking about my life and education. I’m not sure it was meant to start something like this, but it did. Names have been withheld to protect the identity of those who are responsible for encouraging this wild adventure. Dialogue is created from the best of my memory, which as we all know can be both amazing and subject to human frailty.
“So… you don’t have a degree…?”
I get this a lot. Given the types of jobs I’ve had and the industries I’ve worked in, I suppose it is surprising that I haven’t been in any type of formal classroom for nearly twenty years.
Then I tried to explain why. I couldn’t find anything interesting to study, I didn’t have the time. I didn’t have the funds. I just wasn’t cut out to be a student. I’d get bored or frustrated and really, what was the point?
“Have you heard of Athabasca University? They might have what you’re looking for. You can still work and study at the same time.”
I’d heard of Athabasca University, an online university headquartered out of Alberta with students located all across Alberta, Canada, and internationally. Many students work or raise families while still pursuing their education. Could I make the time to pursue education, and still maintain my job?
“I had this neighbor once… she got her teaching degree from Athabasca. It took her nine years while she was raising her kids, but she got it done and went on to teach for 25 years.”
“But… I’m just not… a student!” (yes, I remember saying this)
“Why not? You’re smart. If you find something that interests you, it might be worth looking in to. It doesn’t hurt to look.”
So, I went home. And started searching. I looked at Athabasca University’s web site, asked around about students’ experiences, and started looking at faculties. I found certificates, diplomas and degrees, all of which I could study at my own pace around my job and racing schedule. The freedom – along with the realization that maybe I could do this – was intoxicating…. so long as I could find something to study.
If I am being honest, I’m surprised I’ve gone back to school. I never in a million years thought I would have the time, funds, or inclination to do so. Truthfully, I’m not sure I really have the funds and time – school can be expensive, and I work, train for races, and volunteer in my community, so time is at a premium – but I have the willingness to learn and finally found something I wanted to study, so… why not?
What Took you So Long?
When I graduated from high school, I thought I wanted to be a translator. I had taken several languages in high school, including French immersion, and thought I would excel interpreting for people or translating documents. I looked at the university courses required, and thought “no thanks!” I was interested in the history of language, and all of the practical courses, but I remember looking at most of the other required courses and getting a headache thinking about them. How in the world could I manage four years of school when more than two thirds of the classes were either impractical or uninteresting to me – why would I need three science courses for a languages degree? Even looking at other areas of study for a degree, I could not find anything that could hold my interest and that I thought would be worth the financial investment and time commitment required. An Arts degree had a bunch of tangential and irrelevant requirements, I did not want to pursue sciences, I’d burned out on math classes and concepts in high school, social work or similar disciplines would be too emotionally taxing for me. The idea of a degree felt both daunting and out of reach, so I walked away from that life path.
I also had practical concerns. Many blind young adults I had known as a teenager had degrees from Bachelor to Masters to Doctorates, and still struggled to find employment. I did not want to slog through four or six or eight years of school, get into massive amounts of debt, and still not be able to afford to keep a roof over my head. In addition, even if I had wanted to walk the path of a four-year degree, in the early ’00s, accessibility of course materials was a real concern. Electronic materials were not always guaranteed to be accessible, braille books were big and clunky and took up a ton of space, and audio records of course materials might not always be appropriate for the course at hand. Both the journey and the destination were not going to be uncomplicated, and could not offer a great return on investment. So, I thought, what was the point in a degree?
Choosing a Different Path
I decided to grab an opportunity for a one-year certificate program in emergency communications. I was trained to answer emergency calls and dispatch emergency vehicles, such as police, fire departments, or ambulances. The course was all practical and useful, and would in some ways tie in to what we would be doing on the job. I faced an unrealistic and discriminatory requirement – put into place by the disability services office, no less – that if I could not find a practicum placement before starting the course, I could not start in September. My classmates could wait until January to find a placement, but I could not; the rationale was that it would be hard to find a placement for me, as it would be to find work, so if I couldn’t find a practicum, there was no point in starting. Thankfully, I had connections in the industry and had written commitments from all over Canada and the United States for emergency services agencies who said they would be willing to accept me for my practicum. So I started that course and (found out later) had the most hands-on practicum of any of my classmates.
I never did get my foot in the door, working full- or part-time with any emergency service. Many fire departments and ambulance services still used paper cue cards at the time, and technology was not yet at the point to be fully integrated to come up with accessible alternatives. One police agency, on multiple occasions, had no qualms about telling me that my vision impairment meant that I could not interpret my colleague’s body language, so could not identify an emerging situation non-visually, and I would not even be granted an opportunity to test for a position I had trained for, was good at, and for which they were regularly advertising. It wasn’t until many years later that I realized I would have burned out on the emotional toll the job would demand of me. It took me over a decade to feel gratitude that my life went in another different direction, but I am grateful every day that I took that emergency communications course, and also grateful that I never did work in that field – even if the reasons I never did were flat-out discriminatory. The fact that the disability services office at the school was right – that finding employment would be difficult or impossible – that was hardly the point; I should never have had to face that barrier by a department that was supposed to decrease barriers to my education.
Then what Happened?
Over the next few years, I worked in multiple industries. I’ve worked for non-profits, governments, and private sector businesses. Even when I was laid off by a company in the oil and gas industry during the downturn in 2015, the idea of expanding my education never had any appeal. I didn’t have the inclination, I certainly didn’t have the funds, and – even if I had both of those things going for me – I had no idea what I would study that would both hold my interest and enhance my skill set. I saw no point in going to school just because… reasons – even though I’ve had many conversations over the years with people who’ve been surprised at my lack of formal education.
Then, I had a conversation that created a bit of a monster, and sent me back to the classroom.
Join me tomorrow. I won’t promise I’ll name names, but I will tell you what I’m studying, and why.
So here I am with such great and grandiose plans. I’ve written one whole post on this blog in the past three months – about retiring my beloved guide dog, Jenny. In the past three months, I’ve gone to guide dog school to train with Guide Dog 2.0, and we’re working on cementing our bond and making us a smooth-moving guide dog team, rather than two near strangers who sometimes don’t communicate well. I’m training for a half-marathon in May, because I haven’t had time or inclination to train for a full. So what makes me think that I can write a blog post every single day for this whole month?
For one, I’m persistent (sometimes). If I really want to do this, I will make it happen. For another, I’m a student, by golly, and with that comes a certain amount of socially conditioned procrastination. Why study when I can blog about studying?
But seriously… I’ve been a student for six whole months now. I’ve gotten one final class grade. I’ve had good times and frustrating experiences. Finally – let’s be honest – I will probably never have another opportunity when I will have enough free time to do this. There’s only one course for me to procrastinate on (I mean complete) this month, and I’m half-marathon training again for a race in May. Starting May 1, I’ll have two courses to complete, in addition to working, in addition to whipping my butt into shape to run a full marathon in December. So… in short… why not?
I don’t know what directions this blog challenge will go. It may look like my desk – chaotic and messy. It may eventually be wrangled into some sort of order. It might just flow naturally. I don’t know. But I want to chronicle the start of my post-secondary journey before things get harder, and I have final exams and more accessibility issues and… life!… to worry about.
If any of my loyal readers have burning questions, this month is an open slate. Ask anything school-related. I’ll answer when I can! This is to say, whenever I’m looking for reasons to turn away from my textbooks.
Life Unscripted 