Tag Archives: respect

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!

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…

“So… what does that do?” – On Assistive Technology

13 Sunday Dec 2015

Posted by in blindness

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For some reason I still don’t understand, a previous blog post generated a really lively discussion at a school for the blind far far away. I appreciate that this blog has readers from many backgrounds, ages and countries, and love that my opinions can open the door to some great conversations. One of the topics of discussion was regarding assistive technology (those braille/talking/large-print things that make many blind peoples’ lives so much easier). Stemming from that, when is it appropriate to be “treated like everyone else” and there by not receive any accommodations), and be protected and coddled so much that we aren’t required to advocate for ourselves at all?

 

Reading about this discussion, I took a trip down memory lane. As with all technology over the past 15-20 years, assistive technology ( braille displays, screen reading software, scanning applications) has grown in leaps and bounds. When I was in school, I used a Perkins brailler (think like a 25-pound braillle typewriter, which was as heavy and noisy as you’d think), a slate and stylus for on-the-fly braille writing, and a specialized notetaker (like a bad version of today’s tablets without a screen) called a Braille ‘n Speak to type out assignments. Computers took up lots of space and had to be pre-loaded with specialized text-to-speech software to run on the limited accessible programs available (my first laptop ran only Word Perfect and a braille transcription software so I could print out assignments). A transcriber had her own office and brailled my worksheets, tests, and books unavailable through provincial/federal resource centers – by hand in the early days, by scanning into a computer and printing them out on a big noisy braille printer when the technology was more readily available. Any assignments I did using braille, she had to write above the braille so my teachers could read them. Needless to say, while my work got done, I was far from being treated “like everyone else”; it took a small army and my own special room to get through elementary and high school. Now that I write this out, I owe a HUGE debt of gratitude for those who tirelessly did this work, so THANK YOU!

 

Over the years, technology has evolved. While specialized equipment such as braille displays, screen reading software, and braille printers are still on the market, many aspects of technology have been made more readily available to the general public. Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software is available inexpensively or free of charge, so scanning documents to read them can be done by almost anyone, sighted or blind. Some screen reading software (which reads the content on a screen in a synthesized voice) is available pre-installed on computers, smartphones and tablets; other options are available for purchase or free of charge, which leaves the market wide open to choose which software works best for a particular individual. High schools and colleges have teachers and professors emailing their assignments to students, and students being able to email them back; if a blind person needs to print out hard copy, printers are readily available at the local Staples for less than the cost of a microwave.

 

We are at a time when technology has opened up many possibilities, and yet it has closed doors in other ways. Even as I have been writing this post, I’ve seen tweets describing an experience buying groceries and having to ask for assistance because the debit pin pad is a touch screen with no spoken menus and no tactile buttons, or a customer wishing to contact a company but being unable to because of those distorted images on the screen that a screen reader cannot read. When is what we are asking for too much? When does requesting accommodations make us “more valued” than anyone else? For me, personally, it comes down to dignity and respect. I want to be able to go about my day as a consumer, an employee, a student, a patron just like everyone else. Yes, I use specific technology to make that happen, but it has come through figuring out what works for me, and has put me on more of an even footing than I have ever been. Technology can be the great equalizer, providing access to information, employment possibilities, education and commerce; making that equalization possible should be the responsibility of all of us – individuals, institutions, businesses and governments. If I ask for accommodations, it is something that will benefit not only me, but other customers in that store, other students at that school (either currently or in future), other employees in that office. Perhaps it looks like purchasing that screen reading software will benefit only that one student in the classroom, but in effect, it benefits everyone by giving that student an opportunity to learn and engage and educate the others.

 

So, while technology grows at a rapid rate, ask the questions, request what you need. If it can improve your access to information, employment, education or commerce, ask the tough questions. Ironically, what can be viewed as “special treatment” may be the only thing that will allow you to be treated equally. If we all stay silent and hope someone will come along and make our lives better, we’d wind up with such advanced technology as this… I think we’re a bit past that, no?