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Written by: Thomas Reid
When I lost my sight, many people asked if I was going to eventually get a guide dog. I usually responded, “No, at least not right now.” The geek in me started thinking of my ultimate guide, a robot. I am not talking about one of those little robot dogs kids play with or one of those little vacuum cleaners, I am talking about a full sized, multi featured robot. Let’s call him Belvedere or Belvy for short - at least that is what I would call mine. Think of Robocop without the automatic weapons, at least not in version 1.
Belvy would stand about 6 feet with a muscular frame. He would not take on any characteristics of a human other than two arms legs torso and head. A shiny silver metallic color equipped with some really useful functionality and of course some cool gadgets.
Check out a day in my life with my robot Belvy.
“Good morning Sir, this is your scheduled wake up call. As you requested, I will play the song you decided would best help you to begin your day. As Public Enemy’s “Welcome to the Terrodome” plays, Belvy accompanies me into the bathroom where he  has prepared my clothes for the day, according to my previously loaded command, loaded via Bluetooth of course
After brushing my teeth and shaving, Belvy cleans up, removing any hair left in the sink. “Would you care for cologne today sir?” Yes please Belvy” Belvy recognizes my voice and only obeys my commands.
While eating my breakfast, made to order, I ask Belvy, “What is on my calendar today?” You have a meeting at10:30, a lunch appointment at 1 and you have to pick up your daughters at 4.” “Great! Start the car. For my music, I would like to hear “Songs in the Key of Life.” Set your GPS to the address listed in the address field for my first appointment.” As Belvy walks out to the garage where my truck is parked, I gather the rest of my things.
Many people wonder how Belvy is able to drive me any where I want to go. Both he and the truck are equipped with matching GPS navigation systems. Belvy’s however, includes walking routes. The truck is equipped with auto sensory detection that automatically senses on coming traffic and alerts when cars are too close. Between the technology in the truck and Belvy, I am safer than driving with a human. Belvy doesn’t get road rage or upset. As we are driving to the appointment, Belvy asks “Would you like me to call ahead sir” “Yes please.” Belvy activates his on board phone and dials the number directly from my contact database. “Good morning this is Mr. Belvedere calling on behalf of Mr. Reid. He will be attending the meeting and according to my calculations should be arriving by 10:20. Thank you.” All the while I am seated comfortably in the back seat enjoying Stevie Wonder’s “As.”
When we arrive at the appointment, Belvy immediately parks the truck. Belvy exits and opens the back door for me. “Would you like to go sighted guide sir?” “Yes please Belvy.” I hold onto his elbow and we proceed to the entrance of the building. His on board navigation kicks in automatically to the walking route. When we enter the building the GPS immediately detects a building internal navigation system, Belvy determines the meeting will be held on the 4th floor in conference room C.
I earlier programmed Belvy to record the entire meeting. I remove the wireless keyboard, securely stowed away in Belvy’s rear compartment located on his torso and jot down some notes. Belvy’s hi speed wi-fi connectivity allowed me to quickly check my email and access documents on my home network.
Following the meeting I decide to walk to my lunch date 10 blocks away. As we walk, “Belvy, tell me the points of interest.” Belvy immediately begins listing the various businesses and shops in the area. “As we pass a perfume store I decide to purchase something for my wife.” Belvy immediately detects the RFID tags and generates a list of perfumes. He compares that to a list of my wife’s current collection to determine which she would most like. I sample a few and decide on a purchase. “Sir, you have 12 minutes to get to your next appointment. I pay for the perfume and continue walking. Belvy has adjusted his walking speed to assure we are not late. Several on lookers try to stop us asking about Belvy, but I engage the anti on looker mode. Each time someone calls out to us Belvy simply says through his surround sound speaker system “Sorry, we cannot stop right now, but if you are interested in learning more about us please visit http://www.reidmymind.com/.”
During the lunch with my wife, Belvy sits in a chair at the table with us. I ask Belvy to play some random slow jams from back in the day. Shirley Murdock’s As we lay” begins as I hand my wife the perfume.
After lunch Belvy and I head back to the truck. This time I disengage the anti on looker mode. Stopping several times to talk with various people on the street to explain how Belvy works. I even show off his high speed internet access, his on board high definition television screen, mainly used by my kids when we are on the road to access the thousands of movies stored in the 10 terabyte hard drive.
On the way home my music selection changes a bit and I listen to Boogie Down Productions “Criminal Minded.” We make it back in time to get my daughters from school. As usual they ask if they can show Belvy to one of their friends. I have him demo’ his latest Xbox, games. The girls just smile as their friends admire Belvy.
When we arrive home Belvy begins dinner as directed while I help the girls with their homework. When my wife arrives home we all sit down and enjoy a meal together. “Belvy, why don’t you head over to your recharging center and I’ll do the dishes.” “Thank you Sir, will do.”
That’s the least I can do for my man, uh, robot that is, Belvy!
Think it’s far fetched, check this out.
Cross-posted at Reid My Mind
Showing posts with label blind. Show all posts
Showing posts with label blind. Show all posts
8/14/07
He's Blind. I Married Him Anyway.
Written by: Connie Kuusisto
Note to reader: I had written this post back in January and was thinking of submitting it for use on this blog. Then I read Laurie Rubin's terrific post, Two Invitations, and realized now is as good a time as any to follow up with mine...
Note to reader: I had written this post back in January and was thinking of submitting it for use on this blog. Then I read Laurie Rubin's terrific post, Two Invitations, and realized now is as good a time as any to follow up with mine...
The world is full of perfectly lovely, well-intentioned, but in some ways, clueless people. Admit it. There are people in your life who, as much as you care for them and they you, could use a little "disability awareness" training. There are also people who are ignorant. And there are those who are just plain mean. I won't make the claim that I've "seen it all", but as a former guide dog instructor / manager of admissions at a highly regarded guide dog school, I've seen and heard plenty. As have you I'm sure.
A few years ago I was asked, as a member of a local women's group, to be on the nominating committee for the next year's "officers". I was the youngest person in the room. I was, I'm pretty sure, one of the two youngest women in the entire club. I'm talking decades here. I assure you the other women in the room did not attend school in an age when children with disabilities were "mainstreamed" into public schools. Nor had they ever given much thought, I'm sure, to the concept that they themselves might only be temporarily "abled". Time was no longer on their side..
Before the meeting started, I was enjoying small talk with one perfectly lovely woman; I'll call her "Alice". Alice eventually revealed that she had heard from "Betty" that my husband was blind. Really? Can he see anything? Does he work? Well how does he get to work? Really? How did he go blind? Really? Was he blind when you married him? OH REALLY!!
Well it just so happens that my husband is, among other things, a talented writer and I'll take any opportunity I can to plug his book "Planet of the Blind" (including this one!). So I gave Alice the particulars and suggested she ought to read it. "Oh isn't that nice. Oh I will read it! Thank you for telling me about it...." And then, just as we were being interrupted by the announcement that the meeting was coming to order she said, almost under her breath, "So. He's blind and you married him anyway...." *Smile* Alice fell into the "perfectly lovely, well-intentioned, but in some ways, clueless people" category. She didn't mean to sound insensitive. I know she didn't. She's far too nice.
Is that what people think? Was this sweet little grey-haired old lady just voicing what everyone else thinks? Oh if they only knew. To quote Ralph James Savarese in his soon to be released book: Reasonable People: a Memoir of Autism and Adoption, she "underestimated what a relationship is, conceiving of disability only as deficits."
You see, I was married once before. I call my ex my "insignificant other". My insignificant other could see just fine. He could mow the lawn in straight lines. He could drive to the corner store for milk. He could change the oil in the car and make sure the tires were inflated properly. And I'll say it hear and now, he was the neatest roommate I've ever had. On Saturday mornings we'd do housework together. Let me tell you, he was meticulous. Not a crumb could you find in the kitchen. Not a Labrador hairball could you find on the floor when he was done. Oh he was fine in that regard! Oh, but if only he could have been a friend. If only he could have been loyal.
Several years later I met Steve. My two young children didn't seem to notice he was blind. My parents met him, liked him immediately, and didn't care. Neither did my friends. Most of them had been guide dog trainers too. We had a small wedding ceremony in Jamaica. We call it our "family-moon" because my children and all four of our parents spent most of the week there with us.
So here we are ten years later. Steve can mow the lawn, but I prefer it when he doesn't. I like a lawn to look mowed when it's done. I'm fussy that way. Steve can go to the corner store for milk - he walks. It's too close to drive anyway. I should walk there with him. It's true, he is not the neatest *roommate* I have ever had. He fails to see the crumbs on the kitchen counter and yes, what with three dogs, more often than not there are Labrador hair tumbleweeds everywhere, even after he vacuums. I am fussy. But that is my problem, not the fact that my husband can't see. I mow the lawn now, but in exchange for taking on that chore, I've got a true friend. I've traded crumbs on the kitchen counter for loyalty. I've left the life of a single Mom behind for a life of adventure with a man who's taken me to San Fransisco, Jamaica, London, Helsinki, Milan, Venice, Hawaii...
As for Steve, he traded his days as a bachelor for life with a fusspot and her two teenagers. Can you imagine? A fusspot and not one, but two teenagers!
Yes, Steve is blind. And borrowing these words from Jane Eyre: "Reader, I married him."
Cross-posted on Planet of the Blind
8/11/07
Meet Columnist Stephen Kuusisto
Stephen Kuusisto is the author of Only Bread, Only Light a collection of poems from Copper Canyon Press and of the memoirs Planet of the Blind and Eavesdropping.
He holds a dual appointment at the
web site: www.stephenkuusisto.com
blog: Planet of the Blind
8/9/07
TWO INVITATIONS
Written By: Laurie Rubin
Before my Bat Mitzvah in 1991, there were several preparations that needed to be made. My mother and I spent a better part of the year making arrangements. We planned the menu with the caterer, we went shopping for the perfect dress, we organized people into tables based on who they knew, who they'd get along with, etc.
Though we spent a majority of our time and energy planning the celebration itself, one of the most significant things for us to do was to create the invitations. This would be the first thing people would see. It would be a glimpse of what was to come, the hard work I had done to learn the prayers and lead a service, my first step into womanhood, and a heck of a party we were going to have afterwards.
We hired a calligrapher who spent lots of time explaining the different invitations and their backgrounds. Once we had settled on one, she began to write out what we wanted printed on the invitation. With tremendous skill and detail, she turned the words into art, and the simple sentence, "You are invited to the Bat Mitzvah of our daughter Laurie Gale" took on a colorful and rich meaning.
It is now 15 years later, and today, I received an interesting phone call from my mother. She informed me that my second cousin was about to be Bar Mitzvahed, and that we were invited to the celebration. The invitation read, "To Lilly Rubin and Guest, Brian Rubin and Guest, and Laurie Rubin". I was taken aback by what I had just heard. My mother had been invited with a guest as she was now divorced and expected to be dating; my older brother was invited with a guest. Yet I, almost 30, was not expected to bring a guest. Oh sure, if I had mentioned I would indeed be bringing a guest to the parents of the Bar Mitzvah, they would have been happy to welcome them. However, the initial assumption that nobody would be attending with me, and that I would simply be joining my other coupled family members was like a glass of ice cold water being splashed on my face.
I now had tangible proof on paper of something I had always suspected, that I as a blind woman I am not seen as a viable mate. My acquaintances and relatives would not think to set me up with their dear friend's single child. Believe you me, I was always happy to be exempt from such an uncomfortable exchange. Being forced on a blind date with an equally unenthusiastic person never appealed to me. My poor brother got such a proposition from friends of my parents several times. Part of me felt invisible knowing I was never thought of as a woman who wanted to have a family and to care for a life partner.
I hear similar stories from other blind people. They often tell me that they have joined some on-line dating websites along with their sighted peers. They tell me they feel like magicians because as soon as the blindness is mentioned, their prospective matches perform the most incredible disappearing acts every time.
"Why is this so?" you may ask. "What is wrong with a blind partner?"
My answer is in between the lines of two invitations. The fancy curlicues of the writing, the satin finish of the paper, the words, "You are invited to our daughter, Laurie Gale's Bat Mitzvah" made me feel my budding womanhood, my growing interest in loving someone, in noticing my own body and mind flourishing. The possibilities in life seemed endless. I also really enjoyed picking out the invitation and deciding its style because though I can't see, my understanding of things that are visual makes me feel creative, and helps me express who I am. It is also the side of me that made me become a jewelry designer, and someone who loves to play with make-up and shop for funky clothes.
Those who know me admired the calligraphy. The people who understand me realize that I and other blind people are great friends, great at our fields of expertise, have a lot to contribute in life, and that we would make great life partners.
As I went through the difficult years of high school, I ran into a lot of people who subscribed to the likes of the invitation I received today where Laurie Rubin, sans guest, was invited to a celebration where it is expected that everyone else would be bringing their significant others. People expect their partners to take care of them physically as well as emotionally. Their image of blindness is of the person they become when they're fumbling in the dark frantically for their glasses. They are not familiar with the blind person who is well seasoned, well traveled, and well adapted.
The juxtaposition of these two invitations carries over into the work place. In a twenty minute interview where the employer is so interested in a person who can best get the job done, all they often see in a blind applicant are the intimidating questions, "How will he use a computer? How will she get to work every day without being able to drive? How will he find his way around the office?"
One lady I know who is a social worker told us about the hard road she traveled when looking for her first social work job. She had gotten incredible grades in college, had gotten glowing recommendations from the people she worked for during her internship, and was really destined for a rewarding career. She said she would never forget her first interview which was very
uncomfortable. Because of her social worker's intuition and talent for putting people at ease, she gently confronted her interviewer as she could tell he had some discomfort with her. At that moment, she said she heard the sound of his leather chair as he readjusted, deciding how he was going to put what was on his mind. After a pause, he said, "I' not sure how you will fit in around here. How will you even find the bathroom?"
So here was this poised young woman, ready for success, and all the prospective employer could see was a blind person. She has since found many wonderful positions, is happily married, and has a teenaged son.
As a jewelry designer, classical singer, and writer who happens to be blind, it is my job to provide people with a multi-faceted image of a blind person. It is my pleasure to educate people one by one as they see me walking independently with my guide dog and do mundane things in my every day life that they would never expect from a blind person. It is my privilege to have been born blind so I can feel the joy of seeing the lights go on in people's heads as they get to know me as a person in my work life and personal life so that I can make things easier for those in my situation who will come after me.
Preparing the invitations for my Bat Mitzvah that I would send out to the guests was full of that same creative energy I want to send out to the world in expressing myself as an individual who is so much more than blind. With more invitations like mine being sent out, I think we will see fewer and fewer of the kind I received today.
While on the phone, my mom and I had a good laugh as we do over many little things in life. She pointed out how ironic it is the two unattached people, my mother and brother, were invited with guests, and that I who am living with my life partner was invited without a guest. The most important thing in life is to be able to laugh at something like this invitation, to have a wonderful sense of humor about yourself, and to enjoy life with all the stuff it brings you.
Before my Bat Mitzvah in 1991, there were several preparations that needed to be made. My mother and I spent a better part of the year making arrangements. We planned the menu with the caterer, we went shopping for the perfect dress, we organized people into tables based on who they knew, who they'd get along with, etc.
Though we spent a majority of our time and energy planning the celebration itself, one of the most significant things for us to do was to create the invitations. This would be the first thing people would see. It would be a glimpse of what was to come, the hard work I had done to learn the prayers and lead a service, my first step into womanhood, and a heck of a party we were going to have afterwards.
We hired a calligrapher who spent lots of time explaining the different invitations and their backgrounds. Once we had settled on one, she began to write out what we wanted printed on the invitation. With tremendous skill and detail, she turned the words into art, and the simple sentence, "You are invited to the Bat Mitzvah of our daughter Laurie Gale" took on a colorful and rich meaning.
It is now 15 years later, and today, I received an interesting phone call from my mother. She informed me that my second cousin was about to be Bar Mitzvahed, and that we were invited to the celebration. The invitation read, "To Lilly Rubin and Guest, Brian Rubin and Guest, and Laurie Rubin". I was taken aback by what I had just heard. My mother had been invited with a guest as she was now divorced and expected to be dating; my older brother was invited with a guest. Yet I, almost 30, was not expected to bring a guest. Oh sure, if I had mentioned I would indeed be bringing a guest to the parents of the Bar Mitzvah, they would have been happy to welcome them. However, the initial assumption that nobody would be attending with me, and that I would simply be joining my other coupled family members was like a glass of ice cold water being splashed on my face.
I now had tangible proof on paper of something I had always suspected, that I as a blind woman I am not seen as a viable mate. My acquaintances and relatives would not think to set me up with their dear friend's single child. Believe you me, I was always happy to be exempt from such an uncomfortable exchange. Being forced on a blind date with an equally unenthusiastic person never appealed to me. My poor brother got such a proposition from friends of my parents several times. Part of me felt invisible knowing I was never thought of as a woman who wanted to have a family and to care for a life partner.
I hear similar stories from other blind people. They often tell me that they have joined some on-line dating websites along with their sighted peers. They tell me they feel like magicians because as soon as the blindness is mentioned, their prospective matches perform the most incredible disappearing acts every time.
"Why is this so?" you may ask. "What is wrong with a blind partner?"
My answer is in between the lines of two invitations. The fancy curlicues of the writing, the satin finish of the paper, the words, "You are invited to our daughter, Laurie Gale's Bat Mitzvah" made me feel my budding womanhood, my growing interest in loving someone, in noticing my own body and mind flourishing. The possibilities in life seemed endless. I also really enjoyed picking out the invitation and deciding its style because though I can't see, my understanding of things that are visual makes me feel creative, and helps me express who I am. It is also the side of me that made me become a jewelry designer, and someone who loves to play with make-up and shop for funky clothes.
Those who know me admired the calligraphy. The people who understand me realize that I and other blind people are great friends, great at our fields of expertise, have a lot to contribute in life, and that we would make great life partners.
As I went through the difficult years of high school, I ran into a lot of people who subscribed to the likes of the invitation I received today where Laurie Rubin, sans guest, was invited to a celebration where it is expected that everyone else would be bringing their significant others. People expect their partners to take care of them physically as well as emotionally. Their image of blindness is of the person they become when they're fumbling in the dark frantically for their glasses. They are not familiar with the blind person who is well seasoned, well traveled, and well adapted.
The juxtaposition of these two invitations carries over into the work place. In a twenty minute interview where the employer is so interested in a person who can best get the job done, all they often see in a blind applicant are the intimidating questions, "How will he use a computer? How will she get to work every day without being able to drive? How will he find his way around the office?"
One lady I know who is a social worker told us about the hard road she traveled when looking for her first social work job. She had gotten incredible grades in college, had gotten glowing recommendations from the people she worked for during her internship, and was really destined for a rewarding career. She said she would never forget her first interview which was very
uncomfortable. Because of her social worker's intuition and talent for putting people at ease, she gently confronted her interviewer as she could tell he had some discomfort with her. At that moment, she said she heard the sound of his leather chair as he readjusted, deciding how he was going to put what was on his mind. After a pause, he said, "I' not sure how you will fit in around here. How will you even find the bathroom?"
So here was this poised young woman, ready for success, and all the prospective employer could see was a blind person. She has since found many wonderful positions, is happily married, and has a teenaged son.
As a jewelry designer, classical singer, and writer who happens to be blind, it is my job to provide people with a multi-faceted image of a blind person. It is my pleasure to educate people one by one as they see me walking independently with my guide dog and do mundane things in my every day life that they would never expect from a blind person. It is my privilege to have been born blind so I can feel the joy of seeing the lights go on in people's heads as they get to know me as a person in my work life and personal life so that I can make things easier for those in my situation who will come after me.
Preparing the invitations for my Bat Mitzvah that I would send out to the guests was full of that same creative energy I want to send out to the world in expressing myself as an individual who is so much more than blind. With more invitations like mine being sent out, I think we will see fewer and fewer of the kind I received today.
While on the phone, my mom and I had a good laugh as we do over many little things in life. She pointed out how ironic it is the two unattached people, my mother and brother, were invited with guests, and that I who am living with my life partner was invited without a guest. The most important thing in life is to be able to laugh at something like this invitation, to have a wonderful sense of humor about yourself, and to enjoy life with all the stuff it brings you.
8/1/07
The Cookie Incident
Written By: Laurie Rubin
Two years ago, I met with a job placement counselor at an organization for the blind in New York City to see what resources are out there for someone like me looking for a disabilities advocacy position in addition to my singing. He advised me to join a group called the Go-to-Work Club which is made up of people like myself looking for all kinds of positions who meet with employers to talk about interview techniques and what they look for in candidates for various jobs. This also was somewhat of a networking opportunity.
This job counselor who happens to be sighted got us some very informative and interesting meetings with the HR departments at universities, big companies in the financial district, and Independent Living Centers for people with disabilities. I learned a lot from the Go-to-Work Club meetings, was thoroughly impressed and inspired by the quality of visually impaired people in the group, and really received a lot of helpful information during our meetings with various employers.
One experience however stands out like the proverbial sore thumb.This particular meeting was with the director of the Human Resources Department at the very blind organization that was providing such resources as job counseling and the go-to-work club itself, so naturally, this would be the most helpful one of all right? Surely an HR person here would be well versed in all things blindness, correct?.
Well, the awakening I was about to have was as rude and cold as the blustery December day we'd all be walking out in after the meeting.Like all the other people who had hosted our meetings, the HR person had very kindly arranged for us to have some refreshments during her presentation, an assortment of cookies, soda, and water. Our placement counselor casually mentioned that such goodies were provided for us, but that we should wait to start eating until our presenter was there. He didn't tell us where the cookies and soda were, so naturally the people with sight in the room had the advantage.
Then, our presenter came in and before she so much as introduced herself, she grabbed a cookie. She began the meeting, had us all introduce ourselves, and began with a list of do's and don'ts for how we were to conduct ourselves in an interview. She said,"Now this is all from my own experience, and I can tell you what we look for and what puts an interviewer off."
She continued to munch and munch as she droned on through her list of topics. My stomach growled audibly as I thought of how our sighted presenter had the delicious mouth watering cookie in her hand. I began to daydream about cookie flavors, wondering what sort of assortment lay in front of us without us totally blind people knowing. Were their oatmeal raisin? Perhaps white chocolate macadamia? Were they chewy in consistency or very crispy? Were they the size of a Chip's Ahoy, or were they like a Mrs. Fields Cookie? Ah Mrs. Fields, that's something I haven't had since childhood.
Suddenly, my daydreams were interrupted.
"And don't forget folks," she said with her mouth full of cookie,"That you should never, absolutely never eat or drink anything while being interviewed."
Her pearls of wisdom got me thinking. Did she realize what mixed signals she was sending us? Did she somehow surmise that our blindness would prevent us from hearing her munching away? Did she not stop to think that the absence of a cookie in front of me or some of the other totally blind people in the room meant that we had no idea where they were, what kinds of cookies there were to choose from, or if it was appropriate to take one? My curiosity got the better of me, and I had to point out this cookie discrepancy to her.
But how?
Finally, a window of opportunity for me to do so presented itself. The presenter acknowledged my guide dog and that he was eating crumbs. Even though I knew perfectly well where those crumbs were coming from, I asked in the sweetest most innocent voice I could muster, "What crumbs." The lady seeming unperturbed, said, "Oh the crumbs from the cookies we're eating." Again, knowing perfectly well what cookies she was referring to, but to make clear that of course a blind person would not automatically know what she was talking about.
I asked, "What cookies."
She said, "Oh, there are cookies in here." Incredulously she added, "What is it, do you want one? Are you hungry?"
Suddenly, my heart started beating so hard and fast I was sure everyone in the room could hear it. I was hot with rage, a rage that had suddenly and unexpectedly filled me for such a minor infraction and a benign sense of cluelessness. The idea of this was like a hot poker in my side though, that people working at a blind organization would be this insensitive, that unaware of the consumers it is serving.
I thought back to our other meetings with presenters who are not accustomed to working with blind people, such as those at the financial companies, and it was they who graciously welcomed us, showing us where the refreshments were before we sat down."
Can't I just want a cookie? Do I need to be some underfed, inept, strange Neanderthal for asking about cookies in a room that others can see? Can't a girl know where cookies are without being given the third degree?" my insides shouted.
So I stewed and stewed over this in the meeting, feeling that the anger inside me might soon overflow into caustic words that would burn every bridge that might have been built for me in this group for networking. To add insult to insult, the woman continued to chew and chew on what seemed to be the bottomless plate of cookies as she was talking, not even giving us the respect to treat us like dignified job seekers.
After the meeting, the counselor told us that before we go, we should have cookies as there happened to be some left. Then, unafraid of what they would think, I asked what kinds of cookies there were, and I asked for two nice big delicious cookies, one sugar, and one chocolate chip. I also heard others in the room who were totally blind asking about the cookies, what kinds, if they could have one.
I realize that posture when you're trying to network for a job is everything. Even though nobody would think anything of it if a sighted person discretely took a cookie or two or three, we who can't see are suddenly rude or ravenous if we ask for the same right of our sighted counterparts. Perhaps it was my low blood sugar, perhaps it was the weather's getting increasingly colder, perhaps it was this minor infraction adding fuel to the fire of anger I felt about how already difficult it was for blind people to find jobs that sent me into a silent frenzy, but whatever the case might have been, there is a happy ending to the story. I not only got two delicious cookies after the meeting, but I was the last one to leave the room as I had something to ask the counselor. One last lonely cookie was waiting to be eaten, which then found a home in my stomach.
Two years ago, I met with a job placement counselor at an organization for the blind in New York City to see what resources are out there for someone like me looking for a disabilities advocacy position in addition to my singing. He advised me to join a group called the Go-to-Work Club which is made up of people like myself looking for all kinds of positions who meet with employers to talk about interview techniques and what they look for in candidates for various jobs. This also was somewhat of a networking opportunity.
This job counselor who happens to be sighted got us some very informative and interesting meetings with the HR departments at universities, big companies in the financial district, and Independent Living Centers for people with disabilities. I learned a lot from the Go-to-Work Club meetings, was thoroughly impressed and inspired by the quality of visually impaired people in the group, and really received a lot of helpful information during our meetings with various employers.
One experience however stands out like the proverbial sore thumb.This particular meeting was with the director of the Human Resources Department at the very blind organization that was providing such resources as job counseling and the go-to-work club itself, so naturally, this would be the most helpful one of all right? Surely an HR person here would be well versed in all things blindness, correct?.
Well, the awakening I was about to have was as rude and cold as the blustery December day we'd all be walking out in after the meeting.Like all the other people who had hosted our meetings, the HR person had very kindly arranged for us to have some refreshments during her presentation, an assortment of cookies, soda, and water. Our placement counselor casually mentioned that such goodies were provided for us, but that we should wait to start eating until our presenter was there. He didn't tell us where the cookies and soda were, so naturally the people with sight in the room had the advantage.
Then, our presenter came in and before she so much as introduced herself, she grabbed a cookie. She began the meeting, had us all introduce ourselves, and began with a list of do's and don'ts for how we were to conduct ourselves in an interview. She said,"Now this is all from my own experience, and I can tell you what we look for and what puts an interviewer off."
She continued to munch and munch as she droned on through her list of topics. My stomach growled audibly as I thought of how our sighted presenter had the delicious mouth watering cookie in her hand. I began to daydream about cookie flavors, wondering what sort of assortment lay in front of us without us totally blind people knowing. Were their oatmeal raisin? Perhaps white chocolate macadamia? Were they chewy in consistency or very crispy? Were they the size of a Chip's Ahoy, or were they like a Mrs. Fields Cookie? Ah Mrs. Fields, that's something I haven't had since childhood.
Suddenly, my daydreams were interrupted.
"And don't forget folks," she said with her mouth full of cookie,"That you should never, absolutely never eat or drink anything while being interviewed."
Her pearls of wisdom got me thinking. Did she realize what mixed signals she was sending us? Did she somehow surmise that our blindness would prevent us from hearing her munching away? Did she not stop to think that the absence of a cookie in front of me or some of the other totally blind people in the room meant that we had no idea where they were, what kinds of cookies there were to choose from, or if it was appropriate to take one? My curiosity got the better of me, and I had to point out this cookie discrepancy to her.
But how?
Finally, a window of opportunity for me to do so presented itself. The presenter acknowledged my guide dog and that he was eating crumbs. Even though I knew perfectly well where those crumbs were coming from, I asked in the sweetest most innocent voice I could muster, "What crumbs." The lady seeming unperturbed, said, "Oh the crumbs from the cookies we're eating." Again, knowing perfectly well what cookies she was referring to, but to make clear that of course a blind person would not automatically know what she was talking about.
I asked, "What cookies."
She said, "Oh, there are cookies in here." Incredulously she added, "What is it, do you want one? Are you hungry?"
Suddenly, my heart started beating so hard and fast I was sure everyone in the room could hear it. I was hot with rage, a rage that had suddenly and unexpectedly filled me for such a minor infraction and a benign sense of cluelessness. The idea of this was like a hot poker in my side though, that people working at a blind organization would be this insensitive, that unaware of the consumers it is serving.
I thought back to our other meetings with presenters who are not accustomed to working with blind people, such as those at the financial companies, and it was they who graciously welcomed us, showing us where the refreshments were before we sat down."
Can't I just want a cookie? Do I need to be some underfed, inept, strange Neanderthal for asking about cookies in a room that others can see? Can't a girl know where cookies are without being given the third degree?" my insides shouted.
So I stewed and stewed over this in the meeting, feeling that the anger inside me might soon overflow into caustic words that would burn every bridge that might have been built for me in this group for networking. To add insult to insult, the woman continued to chew and chew on what seemed to be the bottomless plate of cookies as she was talking, not even giving us the respect to treat us like dignified job seekers.
After the meeting, the counselor told us that before we go, we should have cookies as there happened to be some left. Then, unafraid of what they would think, I asked what kinds of cookies there were, and I asked for two nice big delicious cookies, one sugar, and one chocolate chip. I also heard others in the room who were totally blind asking about the cookies, what kinds, if they could have one.
I realize that posture when you're trying to network for a job is everything. Even though nobody would think anything of it if a sighted person discretely took a cookie or two or three, we who can't see are suddenly rude or ravenous if we ask for the same right of our sighted counterparts. Perhaps it was my low blood sugar, perhaps it was the weather's getting increasingly colder, perhaps it was this minor infraction adding fuel to the fire of anger I felt about how already difficult it was for blind people to find jobs that sent me into a silent frenzy, but whatever the case might have been, there is a happy ending to the story. I not only got two delicious cookies after the meeting, but I was the last one to leave the room as I had something to ask the counselor. One last lonely cookie was waiting to be eaten, which then found a home in my stomach.
7/30/07
Part 3 - [with]tv - an important role model for countries all around the world
Written by: Anna Bergholtz, a Swedish freelance journalist, motivational speaker and the first blind film critic of Sweden.
E-mail: Anna@annasvision.se
Web Page (soon to be in English): http://www.annasvision.se/
Part 3
When I was sighted I had the same curiosity for persons being blind like a lot of people have for me today. I would not be surprised if I acted as if they came from another planet - the same way people can treat me now. For sure, no one does like that to be mean. I would say it is normal when you do not know anything about it. That’s why [with]tv is so important.
Everyone knows the power of media. It reaches us all. The more we learn, the less strange we feel about things. That is why I believe [with]tv can lead to disabled people becoming a natural part of society. Having a disability will be something we will all accept and will no longer be a big issue, as it often is today.
Sweden is often influenced by the States, certainly when it comes to media. It is the same for other countries around Europe. We are all small countries that do not always have the strength, resources and courage to try something new. [with]tv is definitely a bold step forward. I am sure it will be a good role model for others. When small countries like Sweden see that it works, they might follow. My hope is that we all can cooperate and that one day we will have [with]tv all over the world.
I encourage everyone to support PWdBC and [with]tv. It does not matter if you are a private person, an organization, a company or a whole community. They need all the support they can get. The more you support them now, the faster we will be all able to reach this important goal.
E-mail: Anna@annasvision.se
Web Page (soon to be in English): http://www.annasvision.se/
Part 3
When I was sighted I had the same curiosity for persons being blind like a lot of people have for me today. I would not be surprised if I acted as if they came from another planet - the same way people can treat me now. For sure, no one does like that to be mean. I would say it is normal when you do not know anything about it. That’s why [with]tv is so important.
Everyone knows the power of media. It reaches us all. The more we learn, the less strange we feel about things. That is why I believe [with]tv can lead to disabled people becoming a natural part of society. Having a disability will be something we will all accept and will no longer be a big issue, as it often is today.
Sweden is often influenced by the States, certainly when it comes to media. It is the same for other countries around Europe. We are all small countries that do not always have the strength, resources and courage to try something new. [with]tv is definitely a bold step forward. I am sure it will be a good role model for others. When small countries like Sweden see that it works, they might follow. My hope is that we all can cooperate and that one day we will have [with]tv all over the world.
I encourage everyone to support PWdBC and [with]tv. It does not matter if you are a private person, an organization, a company or a whole community. They need all the support they can get. The more you support them now, the faster we will be all able to reach this important goal.
Part 2 - [with]tv - an important role model for countries all around the world.
Written by: Anna Bergholtz, a Swedish freelance journalist, motivational speaker and the first blind film critic of Sweden.
E-mail: Anna@annasvision.se
Web Page (soon to be in English): http://www.annasvision.se/
Part 2
Our show became a success. We got rewarded as the best running TV show that year. I was very proud and happy, but mostly full of hope. I thought it was just a matter of time before we were going to be seen again; that people with disabilities were going to become a part of TV like everyone else. And that we where going to run TV shows - not only about disabilities, but also about news, weather, culture and other issues. Now it is 2007, and I am almost ready giving up my hope about things changing.
A first step to mainstream, the TV people told us. It was obviously just words. I was shocked when one of the bosses explained that the audience would not be ready for a change in other shows. Ready to see a program leader, newsreader or a reporter with disabilities. According to him, people would not listen to what we have to say. They would instead focus on the Braille reading, the spastic movements, or weird looking eyes. It is understandable that everything is new in the beginning, but nothing will ever become different if you do not try. If I remember right, there was even a time in the history of Television when women where not welcome – which can be hard to believe today.
This is the main reason I feel so strongly for [with]tv and PWdBC. I hope that people with disabilities will one day be a part of broadcasting in a normal way. I am used to people watching me, but I am sure that will change if we are seen more on TV. People will see that we are like everyone else. Mothers, children, consumers, actors, husbands, sportsmen, politicians - that we are so much more then just our disability.
(To be continued)
E-mail: Anna@annasvision.se
Web Page (soon to be in English): http://www.annasvision.se/
Part 2
Our show became a success. We got rewarded as the best running TV show that year. I was very proud and happy, but mostly full of hope. I thought it was just a matter of time before we were going to be seen again; that people with disabilities were going to become a part of TV like everyone else. And that we where going to run TV shows - not only about disabilities, but also about news, weather, culture and other issues. Now it is 2007, and I am almost ready giving up my hope about things changing.
A first step to mainstream, the TV people told us. It was obviously just words. I was shocked when one of the bosses explained that the audience would not be ready for a change in other shows. Ready to see a program leader, newsreader or a reporter with disabilities. According to him, people would not listen to what we have to say. They would instead focus on the Braille reading, the spastic movements, or weird looking eyes. It is understandable that everything is new in the beginning, but nothing will ever become different if you do not try. If I remember right, there was even a time in the history of Television when women where not welcome – which can be hard to believe today.
This is the main reason I feel so strongly for [with]tv and PWdBC. I hope that people with disabilities will one day be a part of broadcasting in a normal way. I am used to people watching me, but I am sure that will change if we are seen more on TV. People will see that we are like everyone else. Mothers, children, consumers, actors, husbands, sportsmen, politicians - that we are so much more then just our disability.
(To be continued)
Part 1 - [with]tv - an important role model for countries all around the world
Written by: Anna Bergholtz, a Swedish freelance journalist, motivational speaker and the first blind film critic of Sweden.
E-mail: Anna@annasvision.se
Web Page (soon to be in English): http://www.annasvision.se/
Part 1
Already existing toilets had to be rebuilt to become accessible for people using wheelchairs. For persons being visually impaired the computer-system did not work. For the blind to find their way around, a tactile tape was glued to the floors. Braille was also put on coffee-machines and in elevators. And for some, certain places in the building were completely inaccessible.
This was the situation when I went to work for Swedish Television in 2004. To me, it became pretty clear. People like me, journalists with disabilities, where far away from being common workers there. A person that was, was not to be seen, either behind or in front of the camera.
Three years later, you probably wonder if things changed. Unfortunately, I have to say not. The only reason for us with disabilities working there at that particular point was this new TV show. Swedish Television needed us since the program was about disabilities. Many people within Swedish Television said that this was the first step for things to become different. This was the start of mainstreaming disabled people. For the first time in Swedish history we had a person in wheelchair leading the TV show. And it was also, without a doubt, the only time that many people with disabilities worked there at the same time. And I am not exaggerating when I say I felt like a UFO.
(To be continued)
E-mail: Anna@annasvision.se
Web Page (soon to be in English): http://www.annasvision.se/
Part 1
Already existing toilets had to be rebuilt to become accessible for people using wheelchairs. For persons being visually impaired the computer-system did not work. For the blind to find their way around, a tactile tape was glued to the floors. Braille was also put on coffee-machines and in elevators. And for some, certain places in the building were completely inaccessible.
This was the situation when I went to work for Swedish Television in 2004. To me, it became pretty clear. People like me, journalists with disabilities, where far away from being common workers there. A person that was, was not to be seen, either behind or in front of the camera.
Three years later, you probably wonder if things changed. Unfortunately, I have to say not. The only reason for us with disabilities working there at that particular point was this new TV show. Swedish Television needed us since the program was about disabilities. Many people within Swedish Television said that this was the first step for things to become different. This was the start of mainstreaming disabled people. For the first time in Swedish history we had a person in wheelchair leading the TV show. And it was also, without a doubt, the only time that many people with disabilities worked there at the same time. And I am not exaggerating when I say I felt like a UFO.
(To be continued)
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