Tech Wreck

Let's talk a little bit about the blindness thing, in terms of Media accessibility.

Now, on the one hand, I'm going to a school that is quite forward thinking, technologically-speaking. Many of the Tech teachers are familiar with the Macbook, and they are willing to teach me how to use one with Universal Access programs. They are also excited about iPads and smartphones, just like you might be, and they are looking for ways to make those newer gadgets accessible to blind individuals. I kind of love them for that.

However, since becoming aware of the options available to people with visual impairments, I have felt, slightly, like I might be falling through a wormhole that could very well be taking me backward through time. It started, maybe, with the notion of using a typewriter to write braille. A step up from the traditional slate and stylus used for writing, but still... a typewriter. With the ding and everything. There's nothing wrong with using a typewriter. All the best hipsters do it. But it was weird knowing that that's where technology stopped in terms of writing tools for the blind. Typewriters. That works. Now, where did I put my BeeGees record?

Then I signed up with the State's Talking Book Library, because I had an assignment due which required that I listen to a biography using this free service. And a week later, I get a cassette player in the mail. And the truth is, I can barely remember how one of these things works. It's probably a good thing I was born in the 80's, because I'm pretty sure I have cousins who would need a user manual for this sort of thing. They have VHS tapes with descriptive video, on loan at the library of the school I attend. Not that I don't have a VCR. I do. But, really? VHS? Okay. And all you have available right now is Dick Tracy and Honey, I Blew Up The Kid? Um... Sure.

I'm not really complaining about this lack of advancement in media forms for the blind. It's maybe more like concern. I consider myself to be fairly "with it" even if I am approaching 30. Okay, maybe not "with it" because I've seen nicer looking cell phones than mine at the toy store, and those come with the added bonus of candy inside, and yeah, okay, my TV is ancient. But I'm at least AWARE of "it." The resources for the blind are kind of in this place where Deborah Gibson still goes by Debbie. And that's not going to help anyone.

Right? Or...

I don't know. Maybe I'm totally wrong about the way I'm thinking about this. The cassette tapes still work just fine. Digitizing everything is going to take time and effort and money. And Steve Wynn can't do EVERYTHING. Besides, I got the exact same information from those talking books as I would have if it had come from a fancy piece of thin aluminum with an LED screen. The braille writer gives me just as much access to written communication in paper form as a computer printer would. The free radio service that broadcasts news, magazines, and books for the visually impaired is as effective as television (I even get The Onion, Monday nights at 9pm), and really, it's all just Bonus, anyway.

If I am dissatisfied with the accessible technology, I could just go without. Or I could find improvements or alternatives. (Kindles/Blu-Rays with descriptive video/digital books on tape/etc.) I could also volunteer my time to digitizing information (or support my friends who already do it... thanks Jason). And/Or I could learn to appreciate the things I HAVE been given, rather than focus on what I'm not getting.

One more reason it's super weird to have a foot in the sighted world, and a foot in the blind world: Knowing what I'm missing. Not being sure if I have the luxury of caring.

End of week one

Just so everyone knows, Sarah's wing wind is gone. Becca, you'll be happy to know, I caved hard on Thursday on the sweets. I needed a soda like that damn cat needed to pee on my brother-in-law's tomato plant. Huh? It's cool, you don't have to get my analogies. Just know that I am weak when it comes to sugar. Moving on.

My first week at Blind School is over. It was earth-shattering. In a good way. I walked in and met T, my mobility and orientation instructor, and I was really happy to see him, but the minute I saw my peers, walking around with their canes around campus, I kind of felt like crawling into a hole and refusing to come out. It was hard, because up until that point, being blind was almost hypothetical. But nothing was hypothetical about my presence there that morning. I had a cane in my hand. I was answering questions about my residual sight. I was bumping into people. What the... oh shit. I'm blind, aren't I? I had to keep reminding myself how much I fought to get there, so that I wouldn't want to turn around and go home, back to the world I created for myself where coping with blindness was merely a resolution, and not an actual action.

I would say it is a little bit like your resolution to lose weight. On New Year's Day, it's an absolute possibility. Why not? You're still full from those holiday meals, and anything seems possible with a new set of numbers on the calendar. But when the reality sets in - the cake at your nephew's birthday party that you'll have to refuse, or the first time walking into the gym and not knowing where to start or what all those people are doing in that room where everyone looks like human pretzels - you just don't know anymore why you thought this would be such a good idea. In fact, it's starting to sound like a bad idea. And suddenly, Taco Bell sounds delicious, and downright necessary.

I had that feeling. I felt like saying never mind, pass the nachos. Not because I didn't like to be there, but because I didn't know what I was doing, and because it was just too overwhelming, and too tempting to just wait a few more years before I faced this again.

Luckily, my school has T. T and I talked a little bit about our mobility goals, and we talked a little bit about some basic techniques, and it was all so natural and comfortable, that I think there just came a point where I forgot that I was learning how to cope with blindness, and I just thought of it as Something I Have To Do To Be Happy, Healthy, and Successful. No more hiding. Let's get started.

The switch was made, and every instructor I've had since T made it that much easier to move along. I have support there. It's been like walking into a gym for the first time and being immediately greeted by the entire cast of The Biggest Loser, promising to help you succeed.

Each day was easier and easier. And I became more and more confident. The last class of the week was Braille, and I was definitely intimidated by it. But by the end of the class, I had figured out the pattern of the entire alphabet, and was already learning how to write. In just two hours, the thing I was most worried about became fun, and I seriously think I'm going to read the whole lesson manual this weekend just for kicks. (I think it helped that I haven't been in school in over 7 years, and my brain was just so thirsty that it couldn't help but soak it all up. In other words, results not typical, and I'm pretty sure I'll plateau by Tuesday... but in the meantime, moremoremoremoremore)

I know I made the right choice in going to this school. It is scary and overwhelming and exhausting, but it is also exactly what I needed. My earth was shattered, but not without the promise of a whole new world.

Cane

I took my first walk with a cane. I made some mistakes. Let's discuss.

First, I did it when I was pressed for time. I had to pick Lennon up from school, when I was running a couple of minutes late. Not terribly late. Just not with a lot of extra time.

Also, I had Harrison with me. My thought was, "Well, I'm going to need to take him with me every other time. I might as well make this something we get used to." I managed to hold his hand most of the trip. For some of the way, he walked quietly beside me. And for some of the way he kept wanting to run straight into the street, and kicked and screamed when I made him stay on the sidewalk. Grace is not going to be one of our strong points.

When I got closer to school, I started to feel self-conscious. People saw me only a week ago, NOT using a cane. This was going to be weird for them. Yes, I was concerned for the emotional state of the people who saw me. "My god, how terrible, I wonder what happened?" "How is she going to know where to turn? Should I honk? I should honk." "Her poor kids."

The reality is, they probably didn't think twice about it. But they'll probably think three times if they see me today, pushing a stroller, sans cane. I'm a little too concerned about this.

I got to the school pickup location and Lennon's friend asked her why I had the big stick. Lennon shrugged her shoulders and said "It's her stick" like that's something moms just have. Where's your mom's stick? Doesn't have one? Lame.

We made it home in one piece, but by the last 100 steps, Harrison was holding the cane now (HUGE mistake), and Lennon was having a meltdown about bringing the wrong backpack to school. Also, our neighbor went out of his way to cross the street so he wouldn't have to pass us. It made me feel weird that I made him feel weird.

I cried when we got home. Then I put Harrison in a time out for hitting Lennon with the cane. Then I heard Eric come home, and I just wanted him to hold me.

It's been a tough week, emotionally. I'm considering investing in an invisibility cloak.

(P.S. DEAR BECKY, Kids + Cane = ???????? How did you do it?)

Being an Official Blind Person, Day One

I think I'm supposed to be recapping the Batch (that's hip talk for our favorite ABC show), but I have to put that on the back burner, because I had the weirdest day. It all started when I got ready for an orientation class with six other blind people, and I changed my outfit, twice.

*You are staring at me blankly right now. And then you get why I'm stupid. Let's move on now.*

I'm in the Vocational Rehabilitation program. I had been on a waiting list for nearly 9 months, and the stimulus money finally kicked in, so now I get to learn how to function as a blind person. Which is .... I don't know yet. Get back to me on that one. Mostly good, I guess. Scary? It's many things.

So anyway, I'm in this 6-day orientation to the services available in Arizona for blind individuals, and I'm with my blind peers, and it's, ugh, I hate myself for saying this, so incredibly eye-opening. See, I'm in a class with a woman who lost her sight due to an abusive husband. I'm in a class with a man with a tumor behind his eye. I'm in a class with a single mother of five children who hopes that Voc Rehab can help her get her job back from Circle K convenience stores. It makes me feel completely at home, and like a total fraud, all at the same time. I need help, just like everyone else here, but I've never felt sooooooooo dumb for complaining that The Dark Knight was really hard to see until I saw it on BluRay. Shoot me, someone. If you all do it at the same time, one of you is bound not to miss.

I could see much better than most of the people in the class, because my vision problems affect the peripheral, not central vision. I tried not to come across cocky when I checked off that 12 or 14 point font would be fine for printed materials we received in class. And then it was much easier to maintain my uncockiness when I nearly fell down the stairs. Twice.

A couple of highlights, because as we all know, when I get uncomfortable, I get mildly to blatantly inappropriate:

The joke I made with the perverted senior about braille nudie magazines.

The time I said, in my best Dark Helmet voice, "I see your cane is as big as mine."

When I kept calling the talking clock "Hal" and nobody laughed and I kept doing it.

When they reminded us we'd be taking a field trip tomorrow and I asked if Richard, the guy sitting next to me, would be driving. (Richard thought it was funny, by the way)

I called my five-year-old daughter "My Seeing-Eye Kid" and I was asked if I was being serious, and I said yes, unless admitting that means I have to take another class through a different State department.

I probably said some other inappropriate stuff, but I kind of stopped paying attention after the first hour.

I have five more days of this. I'm going to count it successful if I can go the rest of the week and not ask when we get to learn how to make clay busts of Lionel Richie's face.

Here's Some Assistance.... SIKE!

Going blind is really irritating today.  No, you know what?  It's downright pissing me off.

I don't care so much that I'm losing my sight.  There are things I will miss seeing, and I have to admit, I prefer The Easy Way in all aspects of life, which blindness does not fall under the category of, but I'm infinitely more annoyed by the PROCESS of losing my sight, than the ACTUALITY of darkness.  

I wish I could just fast forward to the part where I'm capable, and blindness is merely a characteristic.  It doesn't even have to be an unfortunate characteristic.  Blindness could be really cool, if I could just learn how it is that I'm supposed to be dealing with it.  

Today I called my designated Center for the Blind.  The woman I spoke with was annoyed that I lived outside of the city.  She told me to call The State.  I told her I did, and they told me to call her.  She was really put off by that.  I swallowed a lump in my throat and admitted I had nowhere else to turn.  She took too long to respond with an unconvincing, "*sigh* Well, that's fine.  You can come here."  

Oh really, woman?  I CAAAAN????  Oh THAAAANK You.  I'm so GRAAATEFUL that I can come there, to your oh-so-exclusive establishment, and allow you to counsel me through my most desperate, vulnerable moments of my life.  I can't WAIT to get started.  

She gave me one time slot, on one day, that I can come for the intake interview.  There would be no other times offered or considered.  It's not her fault I don't live down the street, childless, and already independent (pssst, hey, isn't the mobility and independence what you're supposed to be helping me out with in the first place??  So assuming I already have it would be...  just fun times for you?  or what, exactly?).

She isn't making promises.  There are no guarantees that she will help me.  I really should be going through the state.  You know, if I was just not going blind altogether, it would really help her day go a lot easier.  

She's not the first person to make me feel like a burden.  I know that once I get the assistance I need, this won't be such a problem.  I'll be more confident, and I'll know what I need to ask for.  Until then, it'd be awesome if the professionals in charge of helping newly blind people cope with the loss of sight would learn patience with the process, and also maybe take their midol.  

I've made a decision of my life though.  I'm sick of depending on The Systems Already in Place to guide me through this.  I'm pretty sure nobody else is going to be feeling the urgency I feel to get my life restarted.  So I'm buying a cane.  And I'm going to teach myself how to use it.  And I'm going to research the hell out of coping with blindness, physically, socially, emotionally, and I am going to be my own Center.  

(Feel free to offer your support and encouragement at any time...  holy crap what am I doing??)