Advocacy

Why Use The Word Blind? by James H. Omvig

Why Use the Word “Blind”?
nfb.org

Why Use the Word “Blind”?

Braille Monitor                                                    January 2009

by James H. Omvig

Jim Omvig
From the Editor: Most Federationists know Jim Omvig. He worked first as a lawyer and later with Dr. Kenneth Jernigan at the Iowa Commission for the Blind.
He also headed the blindness rehabilitation program in the state of Alaska. He has written many articles for the Braille Monitor and published three books
in the last five years. In this era of pointless political correctness he is particularly well equipped to remind us of some important truths. The following
article first appeared in the January 2008 newsletter of the National Federation of the Blind of California. This is what Jim Omvig says:

People who cannot see are blind, and the word “blind” is perfectly acceptable–in fact, it is absolutely essential–when one is referring to the lack of
eyesight. In my opinion (I got this opinion from Dr. Kenneth Jernigan), a person is blind–and should learn to refer to himself or herself as blind–when
vision has deteriorated to the point that, to function capably and efficiently, the individual uses alternative (nonvisual) techniques to accomplish the
majority of life’s daily activities. This is true even though there is some residual vision which may well be quite useful for certain limited and specific
purposes.

There are some misuses of the term, of course, which are not desirable at all and which perpetuate negative impressions about blindness. These include
such commonly accepted dictionary definitions as: “unable or unwilling to perceive or understand”; “not based on reason or evidence”; or “lacking reason
or purpose” as in, “he ran blindly off the cliff.”

Until around the middle of the twentieth century, it was common among educators, rehabilitators, sheltered shop workers, and others in work with the blind
to use the word “blind” routinely when referring to people with very limited or no vision, since that is what we are. Then, in the late 1950s and early
1960s, a new phenomenon gradually evolved: a group of master’s-degreed workers—eventually referred to as “blindness professionals”—entered the picture.
It was not long until they, the “experts,” began to take extraordinary measures to get blind people to deny their blindness and to use the slightest amount
of residual vision so they could appear to be, as they put it, “normal”–to be sighted and avoid blindness altogether. Avoid the word “blindness” at any
cost became the mantra. And the cost for many blind people was heavy because that avoidance encouraged them to deny an important part of who they were.

First came the large-print movement–just produce very large and dark print so that blind people with a little vision could read a few words a minute in
the so-called normal way and not “have to learn Braille.” Then, before long, “vision stimulation” was introduced–it was argued that, if blind people would
just try harder to use their very limited vision, they could actually improve sight and again be able to function normally. Of course this was a disaster
and psychologically damaging for many blind people. Then, when tape recorders and computers came along, it was argued all over again that blind people
could avoid Braille and the stigma of blindness and thus appear in yet another way to be normal if they would just jump on the technology bandwagon and
give up literacy.

Along with these new professionals (and their new practices), a new vocabulary was also introduced. The word “blind” went out of vogue. Blind students
who could read a little using very large print became “sight-saving” students. Others (with either limited or no vision at all) soon became “visually impaired,”
“visually limited,” “visually challenged,” “unsighted,” “sightless,” “sight-impaired,” “low vision,” or “hard-of-seeing,” etc. Before long, teachers of
blind children became “vision teachers,” and most recently some among the professionals have become so disconnected with the real world and with blind
people that they have come to call work with the blind “vision rehabilitation therapy.”

“How in the world,” you may ask, “could such a distortion of reality have taken place among the very people who purport to help the blind?” Clearly, the
reason behind it all has been an effort to try to avoid use of the ugly and dirty word, “blind.”

Through all of these machinations the National Federation of the Blind has argued that the word “blind” is best since that’s what we are, but many of our
own members have not been able to articulate the reasons for our position, and some have been lured down the path of visual-impairment circumlocutions.
Here is the short answer for why Dr. Jernigan taught us to do what we do.

In the first place Federationists have long since recognized that, to understand blindness correctly and also to know how properly to educate or rehabilitate
blind people, one must be aware of the fact that blind people as a class are a minority in every negative sense of that term. It is the erroneous and negative
public attitude about blindness that is the real problem with which we must deal. From infancy we have been taught that to be blind is to be helpless,
to be incompetent, and to be inferior. Members of the general public have believed it, and most of us have come to believe it too. In time the blindness
professionals also bought into the erroneous stereotyping and the low expectations that accompany feelings of inferiority.

We must change those erroneous public attitudes–the myths, misconceptions, and superstitions–first, of course, in ourselves and then in the broader society.
We also understand fully that these very negative and mistaken attitudes about the inferiority of the blind have found their way into the educational and
vocational rehabilitation systems. These very mistaken beliefs about blindness drive the professionals’ effort to get their customers to deny their blindness
at any price. And these mistaken beliefs must be eliminated as a key component of any high-quality education or rehabilitation program for the blind.

Finally, we of the Federation have come to know the fundamental truth that blind people are nothing more than normal people who cannot see and that, if
we receive proper (that is effective) training, including appropriate attitudinal adjustment, we can participate fully in society and compete on terms
of absolute equality with our sighted colleagues. We have learned that, for any blind person truly to become empowered and free, a process of what is commonly
called adjustment to blindness is essential. Learning to use the word “blind” with ease and comfort and accepting blindness as a normal fact of life is
a significant ingredient in the process. For it is commonly understood that you cannot change what you are not willing to acknowledge.

To summarize briefly, five major ingredients comprise this healing adjustment to blindness process. One, the blind individual must come to know and feel
emotionally, not just intellectually, that he or she is a normal person who can be just as independent and self-sufficient as sighted people are. Two,
he or she must become competent in the skills (the alternative techniques) of blindness. Three, he or she must learn to cope calmly and rationally with
the strange or unusual things other people do or say because of their complete misunderstanding and lack of accurate information about blindness. Four,
the blind person must learn to blend in to the broader society and to be acceptable to those around him or her. Behavior such as being punctual, neat and
appropriate in appearance, reliable, courteous, and free from blindisms, etc., is important to avoid reinforcing negative stereotypes. And, five, the successful
and truly whole blind person will recognize the importance of giving back. This means contributing to society in general and assisting in the organized
blind movement.

Using the word “blind” with ease and comfort is part of the first of these empowering ingredients–coming emotionally, not just intellectually, to know
that he or she can be equal with others in our society. It is also part of this first adjustment ingredient that the blind person comes to know that he
or she is normal and that it is perfectly respectable to be blind.

For an exact analogy on the issues of denial and terminology, consider the struggle by African Americans to achieve equality and freedom. In the 1940s
and ’50s, and even on into the ’60s, some black Americans actually tried to solve their problems by pretending that they weren’t black at all but that
they were white–this practice, denial at its worst, was referred to as “trying to pass.” Some people tried to straighten their naturally curly hair or
lighten the color of their skin. Needless to say, this approach to conquering symptoms of inferiority didn’t work.

Then enlightened and gifted leaders such as Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. came upon the scene. He and others realized that pretending you are something other
than who you really are is fruitless and that the only meaningful way black Americans could ever achieve real freedom, equality, and self-respect was to
accept their blackness and then to work together to make it respectable to be black. Dr. King knew that ultimately you must learn to love yourself as you
are and for who you are to attain true freedom, dignity, and self-respect.

So it is with the blind. If you are blind but pretend that you are sighted–that is, if you engage in what some call the great masquerade, agony and frustration
will be the result. In my own case I pretended (I tried to pass and deny my blindness) for fourteen years–from age twelve to twenty-six–before I encountered
the National Federation of the Blind and became empowered. I have often marveled at the fact that I didn’t develop an extreme case of ulcers during this
painful time of my life. Since I believed that blindness meant inferiority, the fear that someone would learn just how blind I really was was very nearly
unbearable.

This brings us back to the ultimate truth. If you are blind, you are blind. Accept it. Admit it. The very first step in this process is to learn to be
able to say, with neither shame nor embarrassment, “I am blind.” Like other minorities we have a job to do–we must learn to accept our blindness and then
work with concerted action to make it respectable to be blind.

The same is true for professionals in the field of work with the blind. We have no business helping our blind customers (whether they be totally or partially
blind) deny what and who they are and to try to pass or engage in the great masquerade by pandering to their fear of the word “blindness” and what it stands
for in their minds. Rather, we too must learn that it is respectable to be blind. Only then can we truly help to empower and bring freedom to our customers
by helping them accept their blindness.

One final point needs to be made although, if it is not properly understood, it may muddy up everything I have said to this point in this article. When
I am talking about using the word “blind,” I am talking generally about what should be happening regularly in the Federation, university programs, schools
with blind students, or orientation and adjustment centers–in other words, in situations where people are actually involved in some type of positive experience.
When a newly blinded individual is first met, however, and where that initial effort is to get the person interested at all in the Federation or in some
kind of beneficial program, there are times when either we (or school or agency specialists) need to be willing to tread lightly and even use euphemisms
when employing them allows the customer to recognize that the program or activity in question is appropriate and might be helpful.

I learned this lesson the hard way. When I left my job at the National Labor Relations Board in New York City to return to Iowa to work for Kenneth Jernigan
at the Iowa Commission for the Blind, I first did some traveling with other, more experienced staff members to become familiar with each of the Commission’s
jobs. In traveling with one particularly talented VR counselor, I observed her for a few days and scarcely made a comment. Toward the end of the week I
decided that perhaps the time had come for me to participate. To get started I asked a man whom we were visiting, “How long have you been blind?” “Blind”
was not the word I should have used. “I’m not blind!” he screamed out at me with obvious distress.

As a novice, and perhaps as too much of a purist, I had failed to take into account that the people who have not yet accepted their blindness enough even
to get to the point of taking necessary training may need to be dealt with differently from those who have made the decision to get on with their lives.
From that day forward my approach changed completely when dealing with newly blinded people who had not yet agreed to enter a training program. “How long
have you had poor eyesight,” or some meaningless or useless variant thereof, became a routine part of my conversation. I did not want to make that same
mistake again and perhaps even undo what had already been done to begin to persuade that potential new customer to get involved in proper training.

Having understood this last point, we who are blind must become comfortable with who we are as people. As with black Americans, we who are blind must learn
to love ourselves as we are and for who we are, to attain true freedom, dignity, and self-respect.

Once we have come to know intellectually and to feel emotionally that we are normal people and that it is respectable to be blind, then I believe that
we of the Federation have a duty to pass it on so that others may experience the freedom and empowerment which flow from internalizing the truth about
blindness. So by all means use the word “blind” in your daily life and in helping those around you to get rid of the prejudice and low expectations that
flow from a belief that the blind are inferior, but be sparing in its use when you are meeting newly blinded people or members of their families. If you
approach the newly blinded in this way, it will not be long until their attitudes begin to shift. Eventually, of course, we of the Federation intend to
introduce the truth and to teach the whole world that it is respectable to be blind. We can make all of this come true if we stick doggedly to the principle
spelled out by some wise philosopher who said, “Life is action, not a spectator sport.”

 

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Advocacy, Article

Precarious work poses ‘serious consequences’ for millennials’ mental health, report says | The Star

Precarious work poses ‘serious consequences’ for millennials’ mental health, report says | The Star
— Read on www.google.ca/amp/s/www.thestar.com/amp/news/gta/2018/09/01/precarious-work-poses-serious-consequences-for-millennials-mental-health-report-says.html

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Uncategorized

Vancouver’s Curb Cut’s – Nothing to Brag About. | mssinenomineblog

“You know, that might be the answer – to act boastfully about something we ought to be ashamed of. That’s a trick that never seems to fail.” – Joseph Heller, Catch-22   “The calculated simulated of enthusiasm…is also common within contemporary culture. In a variety of configurations, the applause sign has become a social principle.” Stuart McEwan,…
— Read on mssinenomineblog.wordpress.com/2018/09/02/vancouvers-curb-cuts-nothing-to-brag-about/

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assistive technology, blindness, Independence, Personal Responsibility

Teen could change lives with new Smart Cane

“Just a stick” that keeps me from bumping into things? I don’t think so, it is actually a White Cane that allows me to avoid obstacles and provides me the freedom to access and explore my world, talking GPS apps provide the rest.

Teen could change lives with new Smart Cane
— Read on www.680news.com/video/2018/08/22/teen-could-change-lives-with-new-smart-cane/

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Uncategorized

The BC and Canadian governments must stop using wage subsidies to market the hiring of persons with disabilities
Wage subsidies in Canada do not work in providing long term employment for persons with disabilities and improving attitudes towards hiring them. For the most part, the job ends when the subsidy ends. Supposedly, there are safeguards to prevent employers abusing subsidies, but they are rarely enforced.

Apart from it being disturbing that employers are paid to hire qualified and often experienced workers simply because they have a disability, offering these inducements to employers to sweeten the deal to hire them has a tendency to cross ethical boundaries not to mention a tendency to attract employers who want to abuse the system and not be accountable in giving proper experience.

There is already a segment of the general population that believes that people with disabilities should be paid less than the general workforce, because they believe they are not as apt as others. So wage subsidies are a type of compensation. In a way, a subsidy is also like saying to employers “here we don’t want you to lose money in hiring the disabled” and thus this reinforces the wrongful perception that they are not as able and productive as other workers – that they are risky hires.

Still, despite all this, wage subsidies are still being used to market the hiring of persons with disabilities in Canada. They have been used here for decades without showing that they improve employment for persons with disabilities.

I was the “beneficiary” of a broken system that rarely had any checks and balances to hiring persons with disabilities. I began my career with 5 consecutive wage subsidies. [Two with the same disability agency. I also had 2 subsidies with government departments after they had just done a mass layoff of government workers. I was the cheap temp and was told that I was just keeping the seat warm until the next subsidy hire. The other subsidy was with another disability agency that was caught with wage subsidy fraud by a proactive employment caseworker (I found out there were a handful of caseworkers before this one who saw the fraud going on but did nothing.), and I was pulled out and placed elsewhere. Most times, I was only paid the subsidy portion and the employer never topped it up.] Wage subsidies were my option of last resort when I couldn’t get anything else. I hated them because they did not work, and because I felt I was being used by the employers who got them. However, I was out in the workforce for a period which allowed me to put something on my resume and money in my pocket, gave me a sense of purpose and dream about the future, be independent and contributing, have a social life and meet people, and to collect unemployment afterwards. However, having too many short term jobs right from the start had hurt my future career prospects because many employers saw red flags from a job applicant with too many short term jobs and long gaps in unemployment. I had found that having a patchwork career history from an outsider’s viewpoint did not match up to how a degreed professional’s work history should have looked like – a progressive career stream. Further, because of where I had worked, my resume screamed out disability and made employers even more suspicious. Disability discrimination created this but my red flag career history did not help me to get interviews. You can only hide or minimize so many red flags in career gaps and underemployment as well as explain so many short term jobs before drawing unwarranted suspicion — that is if you get an interview. Now with applicant tracking systems (online applications) that can screen out applicants with too many short term jobs and long employment gaps, experiencing underemployment, or not having the “right” current and previous job titles, securing employment has become that much harder for many persons with disabilities.

Many persons with disabilities will accept wage subsidy jobs as a job of last resort because the alternatives may be worse – employment gaps, financial problems, and welfare. There really is not much out there when you need to put food on the table and a roof over your head. They cannot wait for change to happen in improving the employment situation for people with disabilities. Life must go on.

Many of them may never be the beneficiaries of long term sustainable programs to get employers wanting to hire persons with disabilities. They will be too rusty, too old, and perhaps will not even be around while they wait for employers to change their attitudes towards hiring them.

It has been well known in the disability employment services community that, for the most part, wage subsidies do not lead persons with disabilities to securing long term and meaningful employment. When some disability employment service professionals have to apologetically say they can only offer you wage subsidies, you know that they even do not believe in them.

Attitudinal barriers from employers is the number one barrier facing persons with disabilities in employment. Offering subsidies to persons with disabilities is only reconfirming their misconceptions that persons with disabilities are not worth it or as capable as those without disabilities. However, the government, employers, and other influential stakeholders have not offered any effective alternative so that many persons with disabilities do not feel forced to continue to use wage subsidies in order to survive.

#BCElxn17 #BCPoli #BCPoverty #NotRealWorld #VanPoli #PovertyReduction #RaiseTheRates #EndTheClawbacks #AffordableHousing #LivingWage #FoodSecurity

Prepared by the BC Disability Caucus

https://www.facebook.com/bcdisability

bcdisabilitycaucus@gmail.com

BC Disability Caucus

Other links:

Imagine you’re either a person of colour, a woman, non Christian, LGBTQIA, an indigenous person, etc., and a prospective employer acknowledges that you’re qualified for the job, but won’t hire you “unless they get a wage subsidy”.

You would probably scream “HUMAN RIGHTS VIOLATION!” right?

But as you’re reading this, there’s an employment program for people with disabilities that seems okay with this. https://www.facebook.com/BCDisability/posts/1988799498032018:0

Research shows Wage Subsidy’s don’t work http://ow.ly/QExc30dE0V5

BC Liberals Disability Jobs Plan – A Joke? https://www.facebook.com/notes/bc-disability-caucus/bc-liberals-disability-jobs-plan-a-joke/1839309299647706

Online Applications Are More Likely to Screen out Job Seekers with Disabilities https://www.facebook.com/notes/bc-disability-caucus/online-applications-are-more-likely-to-screen-out-job-seekers-with-disabilities/1809502839295019

Beware of fake job postings https://www.facebook.com/notes/bc-disability-caucus/beware-of-fake-job-postings/1832875820291054

Is it offensive to sell persons with disabilities as great workers because they work harder as they are grateful to have a job? https://www.facebook.com/notes/bc-disability-caucus/is-it-offensive-to-sell-persons-with-disabilities-as-great-workers-because-they-/1812688175643152

The Mental and Financial Cost of Being Perpetually Marginalized and Excluded from Employment As Persons with Disabilities https://www.facebook.com/notes/bc-disability-caucus/the-mental-toil-of-being-perpetually-marginalized-and-excluded-from-employment-a/1812276292351007

Wrongfully Screening Out Job Applicants with Disabilities https://www.facebook.com/notes/bc-disability-caucus/wrongfully-screening-out-job-applicants-with-disabilities/1808691592709477

Many B.C. disabled job seekers have no opportunity to access disability employment services funded by the Opportunities Fund https://www.facebook.com/notes/bc-disability-caucus/the-bc-and-canadian-governments-must-stop-using-wage-subsidies-to-market-the-hir/1902225193356116/

How would you respond as a reference if an employer called you up to ask if a job applicant had a disability? https://www.facebook.com/notes/bc-disability-caucus/how-would-you-respond-as-a-reference-if-an-employer-called-you-up-to-ask-if-a-jo/1839865192925450/

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Article, blindness, Independence

Why Do We Fear the Blind?

By ROSEMARY MAHONEYJAN
4, 2014

BRISTOL, R.I. — A FEW years ago, when I mentioned to a woman I met at a party that I was teaching in a school for the blind, she seemed confused. “Can I just ask you one question?” she said. “How do you talk to your students?”

I explained that the students were blind, not deaf. Raising the palms of her hands at me, as if to stem further misunderstanding, she said: “Yes, I know they’re not deaf. But what I really mean is, how do you actually talk to them?”

I knew, because I had been asked this question before by reasonably intelligent people, that the woman didn’t know exactly what she meant. All she knew was that in her mind there existed a substantial intellectual barrier between the blind and the sighted. The blind could hear, yes. But could they properly understand?

Throughout history and across cultures the blind have been traduced by a host of mythologies such as this. They have variously been perceived as pitiable idiots incapable of learning, as artful masters of deception or as mystics possessed of supernatural powers.

One of the most persistent misconceptions about blindness is that it is a curse from God for misdeeds perpetrated in a past life, which cloaks the blind person in spiritual darkness and makes him not just dangerous but evil.

A majority of my blind students at the International Institute for Social Entrepreneurs in Trivandrum, India, a branch of Braille Without Borders, came from the developing world: Madagascar, Colombia, Tibet, Liberia, Ghana, Kenya, Nepal and India.

One of my students, the 27-year-old Sahr, lost most of his eyesight to measles when he was a child. (Like many children in rural West Africa, Sahr had not been vaccinated.) The residents of Sahr’s village were certain that his blindness — surely the result of witchcraft or immoral actions on his family’s part — would adversely affect the entire village. They surrounded his house and shouted threats and abuse. They confiscated a considerable portion of his parents’ land. Eventually, the elders decreed that Sahr’s father must take the child out to the bush, “where the demons live,” and abandon him there. The parents refused and fled the village with their son.

Many of my students had similar experiences. Marco’s parents, devout Colombian Catholics, begged a priest to say a Mass so that their blind infant son would die before his existence brought shame and hardship on their household. The villagers in Kyile’s remote Tibetan village insisted that she, her two blind brothers and their blind father should all just commit suicide because they were nothing but a burden to the sighted members of the family. When, as a child in Sierra Leone, James began to see objects upside down because of an ocular disease, the villagers were certain that he was possessed by demons.

In these places, schools for blind children were deemed a preposterous waste of resources and effort. Teachers in regular schools refused to educate them. Sighted children ridiculed them, tricked them, spat at them and threw stones at them. And when they reached working age, no one would hire them.

During a visit to the Braille Without Borders training center in Tibet, I met blind children who had been beaten, told they were idiots, locked in rooms for years on end and abandoned by their parents. These stories, which would have been commonplace in the Dark Ages, took place in the 1980s, 1990s and 2000s. They are taking place now.

Nine out of 10 blind children in the developing world still have no access to education, many for no other reason than that they are blind.

The United States has one of the lowest rates of visual impairment in the world, and yet blindness is still among the most feared physical afflictions. Even in this country, the blind are perceived as a people apart.

Aversion toward the blind exists for the same reason that most prejudices exist: lack of knowledge. Ignorance is a powerful generator of fear. And fear slides easily into aggression and contempt.

Anyone who has not spent more than five minutes with a blind person might be forgiven for believing — like the woman I met at the party — that there is an unbridgeable gap between us and them.

For most of us, sight is the primary way we interpret the world. How can we even begin to conceive of a meaningful connection with a person who cannot see?

Before I began living and working among blind people, I, too, wondered this. Whenever I saw a blind person on the street I would stare, transfixed, hoping, out of a vague and visceral discomfort, that I wouldn’t have to engage with him.

In his 1930 book “The World of the Blind,” Pierre Villey, a blind French professor of literature, summarized the lurid carnival of prejudices and superstitions about the blind that were passed down the centuries. “The sighted person judges the blind not for what they are but by the fear blindness inspires. … The revolt of his sensibility in the face of ‘the most atrocious of maladies’ fills a sighted person with prejudice and gives rise to a thousand legends.”

The blind author Georgina Kleege, a lecturer at the University of California at Berkeley, more tersely wrote, “The blind are either supernatural or subhuman, alien or animal.”

WE take our eyesight so much for granted, cling to it so slavishly and are so overwhelmed by its superficial data, that even the most brilliant sighted person can take a stupidly long time to recognize the obvious: There is usually a perfectly healthy, active and normal human mind behind that pair of unseeing eyes.

Christopher Hitchens called blindness “one of the oldest and most tragic disorders known to man.” How horribly excluded and bereft we would feel to lose the world and the way of life that sight brings us.

Blindness can happen to any one of us. Myself, I used to be certain I’d rather die than be blind; I could not imagine how I would have the strength to go on in the face of such a loss.

And yet people do.

In 1749, the French philosopher Denis Diderot published an essay, “Letter on the Blind for the Benefit of Those Who See,” in which he described a visit he and a friend made to the house of a blind man, the son of a professor of philosophy at the University of Paris. The blind man was married, had a son, had many acquaintances, was versed in chemistry and botany, could read and write with an alphabet of raised type and made his living distilling liqueurs. Diderot wrote with wonder of the man’s “good solid sense,” of his tidiness, of his “surprising memory for sounds” and voices, of his ability to tell the weight of any object and the capacity of any vessel just by holding them in his hands, of his ability to dismantle and reassemble small machines, of his musical acuity and of his extreme sensitivity to atmospheric change.

The blind man, perhaps weary of being interrogated by Diderot and his friend as if he were a circus animal, eventually asked them a question of his own. “I perceive, gentlemen, that you are not blind. You are astonished at what I do, and why not as much at my speaking?”

More than any of his sensory skills, it was the blind man’s self-esteem that surprised Diderot most.

“This blind man,” he wrote, “values himself as much as, and perhaps more than, we who see.”

I’ve learned from my blind friends and colleagues that blindness doesn’t have to remain tragic. For those who can adapt to it, blindness becomes a path to an alternative and equally rich way of living.

One of the many misconceptions about the blind is that they have greater hearing, sense of smell and sense of touch than sighted people. This is not strictly true. Their blindness simply forces them to recognize gifts they always had but had heretofore largely ignored.

A few years ago, I allowed myself to be blindfolded and led through the streets of Lhasa by two blind Tibetan teenage girls, students at Braille Without Borders. The girls had not grown up in the city, and yet they traversed it with ease, without stumbling or getting lost. They had a specific destination in mind, and each time they announced, “Now we turn left” or “Now we turn right,” I was compelled to ask them how they knew this. Their answers startled me, chiefly because the clues they were following — the sound of many televisions in an electronics shop, the smell of leather in a shoe shop, the feel of cobblestones suddenly underfoot — though out in the open for anyone to perceive, were virtually hidden from me.

For the first time in my life, I realized how little notice I paid to sounds, to smells, indeed to the entire world that lay beyond my ability to see.

The French writer Jacques Lusseyran, who lost his sight at the age of 8, understood that those of us who have sight are, in some ways, deprived by it. “In return for all the benefits that sight brings we are forced to give up others whose existence we don’t even suspect.”

I do not intend to suggest there is something wonderful about blindness. There is only something wonderful about human resilience, adaptability and daring. The blind are no more or less otherworldly, stupid, evil, gloomy, pitiable or deceitful than the rest of us. It is only our ignorance that has cloaked them in these ridiculous garments.

When Helen Keller wrote, “It is more difficult to teach ignorance to think than to teach an intelligent blind man to see the grandeur of Niagara,” she was speaking, obviously, of the uplifting and equalizing value of knowledge.

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