                          Culmination:
     The Concluding Years of the Second Jernigan Presidency

     Today we are moving with a mighty force,  said the President
of the National Federation of the Blind in 1983:  For 43 years we
have worked and struggled to accelerate our movement and send it in
a straight line toward freedom and independence. The efforts of
tens of thousands of blind men and women have been spent for almost
two generations to reach the current momentum. 

      Now,  he said,  there is no force on earth that can slow us
down or turn us back or change our direction.  He went on to
declare that the organized blind would wait no longer for equality
and opportunity to be granted or handed to them:  Through the
centuries we have yearned for acceptance, longed for opportunity,
and dreamed of a full life. And too often we have waited. But no
more! Never again! The waiting did not work. We have learned our
lesson and learned it well. Equality will not (perhaps cannot) be
given to us. If we want it, we must take it. So the waiting is
over. The yearning and the longing are at an end. And not just
someday or tomorrow but now! From this day forward it will be
action. Let people call us what they will and think what they
please. We are simply no longer willing to be second-class
citizens. We want no strife or confrontation, but we will do what
we have to do. To the extent required we will meet pressure with
pressure and force with force. We know who we are, and we will
never go back. 

     It was not so much the message of Kenneth Jernigan's
convention speech that was novel in the year 1983; it was rather
the tone and spirit that struck a different note from past
occasions when the organized blind movement was struggling to
survive and embroiled in civil wars or uphill battles against
powerful agency forces.

     By 1983, when Jernigan spoke of the other half of inertia at
the National Convention in Kansas City, the Federation had arrived
at a new plateau of peace, prosperity, and progress. Peace came to
the movement with the victorious ending of the California lawsuit
in that year. The court action against Ammeter and the other
members of her faction in Washington state had earlier been
concluded, and the lawsuit to confirm by a ruling of the courts the
Federation's right to govern the Iowa affiliate and discipline the
dissidents in that state in accordance with national policy was
(though it would not be finished until 1984) clearly on the way to
a favorable decision. But in a deeper sense the Federation's
well-being and harmony had not really been achieved through the
courts but by a collective act of will on the part of the
membership, rallying in convention to cast out the handful of
embittered malcontents and to reaffirm support for the democratic
structure and progressive goals of the movement. Peace for the
National Federation of the Blind was not only the absence of war
within it was also the presence of a new mood and temper throughout
the movement, a prevailing self-assurance that spoke of solidarity
and quiet strength, of prestige and unprecedented influence in the
blindness system and the public at large.

      We have found the other half of inertia,  said the President
in his banquet speech,  and we are generating the force to make our
dreams reality. Yes, we still experience discrimination, denial,
and lack of opportunity; but the tide is running the other way. It
can be seen in our victories in the sheltered shops; in our radio
and television spots, which blanket the nation; and in the jobs
which blind people are getting and holding. It can be seen in the
hope, the determination, and the zest for the future which blind
people now are feeling. It can be seen in the mood and the joy of
this convention. 

     Following is the complete text of President Jernigan's address
delivered at the banquet of the 1983 convention in Kansas City,
Missouri:

              BLINDNESS: THE OTHER HALF OF INERTIA
                       by Kenneth Jernigan

      An essential component of being human is the ability to
think; an essential component of the ability to think is the
ability to verbalize; and an essential component of the ability to
verbalize is a knowledge of the meaning of words. It is not that a
knowledge of the meaning of words can make us human or create
humanity, but to the extent we lack such knowledge our humanity is
diminished. To the extent we have it our humanity is enhanced. And
it is not simply the speaking but the understanding of words that
counts the delineation of the subtleties of meaning, the
comprehension of definition and connotation, the flow of imagery
and association: love hate poverty longing loneliness desire dream.
Words the building blocks of humanity.

      There are words for every occasion words for children, words
for scientists, and words for statesmen. There are also words which
have special significance for us. Consider, for instance, the word
inertia What does it mean? What does it connote? And why does it
have special significance? When most of us think of inertia, we
think of something not moving, something inert and it is not just
the physical but also the social. The dictionary tells us that
inertia means  lack of skill, idleness, laziness. 

      But this is only half of the meaning. There is the other
half. The full definition is this: Things at rest tend to remain at
rest, and things in motion tend to remain in motion, at a uniform
rate and in a straight line. The only way to change the inertia of
an object is by pressure. It is as hard to stop something which is
moving as it is to start something which is not.

      When the blind came to organize in 1940, the situation was
about as bad as it could possibly be. It was almost static. It was
worse than static, for there was enough motion to tantalize but not
enough to encourage or stimulate hope. At the pace of 1940 it would
have taken generations (perhaps centuries) for the blind to achieve
meaningful lives and real opportunity and a promise which is
measured by centuries is no promise at all. It is only a shadow and
a mockery. More than twenty years ago, in their struggle for
recognition and freedom, the blacks (that minority with whom we
have so often compared ourselves) said it all:  If not now, when? 

      Regardless of the future, the world of 1940 held little hope
for the blind certainly none for the blind of that generation. It
was custody, control, condescension, inferiority, pity, and lack of
opportunity.

      Then, everything changed. Dr. Jacobus tenBroek and a handful
of others organized the National Federation of the Blind. Suddenly
it was not centuries but decades and, yes, something for the blind
of that generation, something for the blind then alive. In the
beginning the force of inertia worked against us (things at rest
tend to remain at rest); but pressure was applied, and the
acceleration was noticeable and immediate. Of course, at first the
progress was slow (it always is). The situation was aggravated by
the mass involved, for with a given pressure the build-up is always
in direct proportion to the mass which has to be moved. And the
mass which we had to move was tremendous. It was all of society all
of it (including ourselves): society with its accumulated
stereotypes, misconceptions, and prejudices; society with its
mistaken ideas and  freaky  notions about blindness, going back to
the dawn of history ideas and notions imbedded in literature,
locked in folklore, and sanctified by tradition.

      I joined this movement in 1949. I met Dr. tenBroek in 1952,
and I came to my first National Convention the same year. I have
been to every National Convention since all thirty-two of them; and
I can tell you from firsthand experience that during that time we
have moved an awful lot of mass.

      Now, we are in 1983. What is our situation today? Where are
we? How is the state of our inertia? In the first place we should
keep in mind the basic principle: The only way to change the
inertia of an object is by pressure. It is as hard to stop
something which is moving as it is to start something which is not.
That is the rule, and it is as immutable for organizations as for
objects. By the terms of inertia no pressure is ever lost. For
forty-three years we have worked and struggled to accelerate our
movement and send it in a straight line toward freedom and
independence. The efforts of tens of thousands of blind men and
women have been spent for almost two generations to reach the
current momentum. Today we are moving with a mighty force. It would
take as much pressure and effort to stop our progress and push us
back to 1940 as it has taken to get us where we are. I find that a
comforting thought, for there is no force on earth that can do it.
There is no group (no combination of groups) that can find the
nerve, muster the determination, or feel the need. We can summon
the strength to resist any conceivable pressure which would slow
our acceleration and push us back for we have experienced pain. We
know what it is to hurt. Through the centuries we have yearned for
acceptance; longed for opportunity; and dreamed of a full life. And
too often we have waited. But no more! Never again. The waiting did
not work. We have learned our lesson and learned it well. Equality
will not (perhaps cannot) be given to us. If we want it, we must
take it. So the waiting is over. The yearning and the longing are
at an end. And not just someday or tomorrow but now! From this day
forward it will be action. Let people call us what they will and
think what they please. We are simply no longer willing to be
second-class citizens. We want no strife or confrontation, but we
will do what we have to do. To the extent required we will meet
pressure with pressure and force with force. We know who we are,
and we will never go back.

      Today we are not in 1940, nor will we ever be there again.
Neither have we arrived at our goal. We are in mid-passage. The
balances are shifting, and the force of inertia is now more with us
than against us. We are moving with accelerating motion in a
straight line toward the future, but there are counterpressures
forces of opposition, which seek to slow us down and push us back.

      Upon superficial examination it might appear that we are not
dealing with one group, but three: the general public, the
governmental and private agencies, and ourselves. In a sense this
is true, but both the blind and the agencies are part of the larger
society, and to the extent we move society as a whole, we also move
the component parts. This is so despite the fact that the sheltered
shops, the rehabilitation establishment, and the other governmental
and private agencies have a heavy investment in the status quo and,
thus, a built-in resistance to change. They may come kicking and
screaming but they will come. We the blind are also part of the
general public, and even though we are the primary force generating
the change and creating the acceleration, we cannot outdistance the
inertia we give to the rest of society.

      Things at rest tend to remain at rest, but today that half of
inertia is not our major concern. The focus is on the other half:
things in motion tend to remain in motion. With growing pressure we
are accelerating toward the goal of security, equality, and
opportunity for the blind. Although our overall momentum is
increasing rapidly, the progress is not uniform. In some areas it
is steady; in others it is exponential; in still others it is
uneven; and in yet others it is hardly noticeable at all.

      We have made much progress, but we still have a long way to
go. The mistaken notions and ancient stereotypes which people have
about blindness are all pervasive. They are so ingrained as to be
almost second nature. They go to the central core of our being and
permeate every shade of our simplest thought. This is true of the
blind as well as the sighted. Sometimes those of us who are blind
(even those of us who consciously work on a daily basis to change
the status quo) accept the public view of our limitations, without
even knowing we are doing it. Sometimes we do it while in the very
act of speaking to the contrary.

      A few years ago I went to a cafeteria with a sighted
associate. We took our trays and moved down the line. When we
turned from the cash register and started for the table, an
accident occurred. A glass of water fell from the tray and splashed
on the floor.  There will be those,  I said,  who will see this and
think the reason I spilled that glass of water is because I am
blind. 

       You are right,  my sighted associate replied,  for you
didn't spill it. I did. It fell from my tray, not yours. 

      What I have already told you is bad enough, but there is
more, and worse. I didn't leave it there:  How did you do that?  I
asked.

      This time my associate (who is as well versed in our
philosophy as the rest of us) responded with more than a touch of
acid:  I did it the same way anybody else would,  she said.  I
tipped my tray. Do you think it is normal for the blind to be
clumsy and the sighted to be graceful? Do you think sighted people
don't have accidents? Why did you automatically assume that you
were the one who spilled the water? 

      It was a fair question, and it caused a lot of
soul-searching. I reluctantly conclude that (despite all of my
philosophy and knowledge to the contrary, despite all of my
experience with this very sort of situation dressed out in other
forms) I fell into the trap of social conditioning. I hope I won't
do it again, but I can't be sure. The force of inertia is powerful,
and changes in public attitudes about blindness are hard to set in
motion. Things at rest tend to remain at rest.

      The blind are like other minorities. Some of us have come a
long way on the road to equality; others have only started; and
many have not yet begun. The plain truth is that (because of low
self-esteem and the role society has taught us to play) a lot of
blind people, along with most of the sighted, simply do not believe
that it is respectable to be blind. Mainly such people are not in
this organization (at least, not actively in it), for we are moving
on a different track. We have tested our theories and put them to
the proof. The basic tenet of our philosophy can be stated in a
single sentence: the average blind person (given reasonable
opportunity and an even break) can make the dollars and take the
knocks with everybody else.

      In April of this year Fred Schroeder, who is one of our
upcoming young leaders, represented the Federation at a meeting
involving a number of officials from the governmental and private
agencies. One of the occurrences which he reported has particular
relevance to what we are discussing:  During lunch on Thursday,  he
said,  I observed an incident which brought into vivid clarity the
way in which these folks view themselves as blind people. Mr. Y,
who is blind, had joined the group for lunch and was sitting next
to Mr. X, who is also blind. I overheard Mr. Y say, `I have been
sitting next to you for ten minutes, and I still don't know whether
you are blind or sighted.' With obvious pleasure Mr. X responded,
`Why, thank you very much. I'm blind.' 

      What a damning commentary. He thought it was a compliment!
This man works with the newly blinded. He serves, if only by
example, as a role model of what blind people can do and expect to
be. No wonder it has taken us so long to achieve momentum!

      Last fall I, too, had occasion to observe Mr. X. He chaired
a meeting which I attended, and when it came time for a pause, he
said something to this effect:  There are coffee and rolls in the
back of the room. We are not going to take a break just yet, but if
you like, those of you who can see can go back during the next
couple of minutes and get refreshments. 

      If this attitude of low self-esteem is held by the agency
leaders (and it is not just the blind who hold it but often the
sighted as well), how do they treat the blind they are employed to
help? Many of you in this room do not need documentation to tell
you. You know firsthand from painful experience. But the
documentation exists. All too frequently, I am sad to say, the
agency officials express their feelings of frustration and
inadequacy by taking the tack (of course, they do not do it
consciously) that if they cannot succeed in business or achieve
leadership anywhere else, at least they can bully and dominate the
blind.

      Consider, for instance, the following letter which I recently
received from a blind adult who had attended a camp for the blind
in California called Enchanted Hills.  The director and staff,  he
said,  can stay up as late as they wish smoke, drink, make noise,
and keep the campers up. The campers, on the other hand, can't
drink, smoke, or make noise and we have a curfew. We are adults
like they are, and just because we're blind, they think they have
the say-so over us. 

      As you can see, Enchanted Hills is far from idyllic; but it
is a model of freedom compared to the Northeastern Association of
the Blind at Albany, New York which (with the help of state and
federal funds) operates a rehabilitation training program. Under
date of May 17, 1983, our New York president (David Stayer) wrote
to the Executive Director of the Northeastern Association as
follows:

      Dear Mr. Friedman,

      It has been brought to the attention of our organization that
you operate a residential facility for blind adults. We have heard
that the residents are not treated as adults, and their dignity is
nonexistent. As president of our New York affiliate, I am
specifically requesting the written policy clearly explaining all
the rules and regulations related to your residence, Doc's Motel.
I am also requesting the statement of rights that the residents
have. 

      If what we hear is valid, your agency is a disgrace for the
way it treats those of us who are blind. It is reported that adults
are ordered to bed right after dinner, that specific permission
must be obtained before a resident is allowed to leave the motel,
and that a ten p.m. curfew exists. 

      Mr. Friedman responded under date of May 27, 1983. His letter
should be studied with care by those who say we exaggerate when we
talk about custodialism. He is so out of touch with reality that he
does not even know what he is admitting. Yet, his attitudes are
closer to the norm than the exception. Here is what he says:

      Dear Mr. Stayer:

      Your concern about the treatment of blind adults is one that
is shared by everyone at this Association. We are concerned that
all individuals are treated in a dignified manner. You refer to our
operation of a residential facility for blind adults. This is
incorrect. Doc's Motel is separate and apart from the area in which
certain blind individuals reside. While it is true that the
boarding host is the proprietor of a motel, the individuals
residing with her live in her home, not in the motel proper. It is
also untrue that adults are ordered to bed right after dinner. A
10:00 p.m. curfew exists only in the sense that individuals are
expected to respect the rights of others beginning at that time.
Quiet hours begin then and usually last until the early morning
hours. 

      In general we expect residents to interact effectively as
adults residing in the same situation. However, as a result of
experiential deprivation, the existence of other handicapping
conditions in addition to legal blindness, and a certain amount of
social immaturity, this is not always a realistic expectation. The
guidelines were developed to protect the basic rights of the
individuals residing at the boarding home, in which are provided
clean, comfortable, quiet places to sleep and three meals each day.
Access to any other portions of the boarding host's property (aside
from common eating areas at appropriate times and bedroom
facilities) is on a voluntary basis.

      With regard to the imposition of quiet hours, it is
reasonable to expect that trainees who are participating in a
full-time day training program usually require as a minimum eight
hours of sleep per night. Thus, quiet hours are from 10:00 p.m. to
6:30 a.m. on Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday
nights. Quiet hours of twelve midnight to 8:30 a.m. on Friday and
Saturday nights have been established. Should an individual wish to
remain outside of his or her bedroom area after 10:00 p.m. on week
nights and after twelve p.m. on weekends, the individual is free to
do so. However, the individual is not permitted to return to the
bedroom area until the end of quiet hours. In the case of week
nights, this is 6:30 a.m., and in the case of weekends this is 8:30
a.m. Thus, no curfew as such exists. An individual can be required
to return to the bedroom area after the taking of the evening meal.
However, as I have previously mentioned, no individual has ever
been ordered to bed or to sleep at that time. 

      All current residents are aware of these guidelines and
rules, and each has agreed to sign a copy of the rules and
guidelines when the final draft is completed.

      Mr. Stayer, it is unfortunate that an individual who feels
that he or she has been mistreated by our Association would not
seek justice to redress the alleged violations of his dignity as a
human being within the agency that is providing services to him or
her. 

      For the past seventy-five years the Northeastern Association
of the Blind at Albany has worked with members of the blind
community in assisting them to achieve their maximum potential and
independence within the framework of the services we offer.

      I look forward to the time when we all can work
constructively for the individuals about whom we are rightfully
concerned.

      Sincerely, Michael B. Friedman Executive Director

      Remember that this exchange of correspondence is less than
two months old. A young blind woman wants training to be a
secretary, so she goes to the Northeastern Association for help.
And what does she find? The Association is  concerned that all
individuals are treated in a dignified manner.  Mr. Friedman tells
us so. Furthermore, it is not a residential facility for blind
adults because Doc's Motel is separate and apart from the area in
which certain blind individuals reside (and besides, they do not
live in the motel proper). A 10:00 p.m. curfew exists only in the
sense that individuals are expected to respect the rights of
others, beginning at that time, presumably being free to violate
such rights at 9:59 and before. And what is all of this talk about
restriction? Residents are not required to be in their rooms by ten
on week nights and twelve on weekends. Well, of course, if they
happen to be late, they can't come back until the next day. They
can, one assumes, sleep wherever the party was or in the park.
Probably it will decrease their  experiential deprivation  and
lessen their  social immaturity. 

      Then, there is the matter of ordering people to their rooms
after dinner. Not true. Well, all right perhaps they are ordered to
their rooms, but no one has been ordered to bed or to sleep. Can
you believe it? How on earth would you order someone to sleep if
you wanted to? But, not to worry  For the past seventy-five years
the Northeastern Association of the Blind at Albany has worked with
members of the blind community in assisting them to achieve their
maximum potential and independence within the framework of the
services we offer.  In fact, doubly not to worry. The Northeastern
Association of the Blind at Albany is accredited. By whom? You
guessed it by that advocate of high standards and quality services,
NAC (the National Accreditation Council for Agencies Serving the
Blind and Visually Handicapped). The accreditation is assured until
1986.

      And, anyway, the trainees will sign a statement agreeing to
the rules. They have already approved them, even before the final
draft has been written. Mr. Friedman says so. To conclude this
sorry business, let me give you just one brief quote from Mr.
Friedman's rules:

       The resident,  the document says,  has the individual right
to occupy his bedroom and store his belongings within the bedroom.
Each individual is also permitted to allow other residents to enter
or exit. If the individual wishes to carry on private and personal
conversations with individuals of his or her choice, he or she may
do so. He or she is not obligated to allow entrance to any other
parties, with the exception of the boarding host or any person
assigned as a supervisory figure. 

      I don't know how all of that strikes you but I, for one,
would starve before I would take training from that organization.
Doc's Motel is not on the roster of places I intend to visit
unless, of course, I go there to picket (which, incidentally, I
may). The Northeastern Association of the Blind at Albany is
exactly the kind of organization we intend to reform or put out of
action. Perhaps we can teach them something about the other half of
inertia. Things at rest can be put into rapid motion if you apply
enough force and pour on the pressure. We want no strife or
confrontation, but we will do what we have to do and we don't
intend to be sent to our rooms after dinner or kept off the
premises until 8:31 on Sunday morning or badgered about our 
experiential deprivation.  We are simply no longer willing to be
second-class citizens. We know who we are, and we will never go
back.

      Bad as all of this is, we must keep it in perspective. The
agencies are not (and cannot be) our principal area of focus.
Regardless of their delusions of grandeur and their talk about
professionalism and expertise, they do not set the tone. They are
merely subordinate parts of the larger society. Their attitudes
spring not from knowledge or  professionalism,  as they claim but
from the prejudice and misconceptions of the general public. When
we have educated that general public and imparted to it enough
momentum to send it accelerating toward first-class status for the
blind, the agencies will follow.

      And the task we face is formidable. Every day there are
letters and articles which cross my desk to prove it. The public
attitudes about blindness are straight from the Middle Ages
including witchcraft, superstition, and fear of the dark. There is
not a single area of human endeavor which is exempt. The ignorance
extends from prison to pulpit, from sex to Sunday school, and from
airlines to alcoholism. Do you doubt it?

      A journalist from Ohio thinks the blind need special fishing
facilities, and he writes me about it:  The U.S. Army Corps of
Engineers,  he says,  has built thousands of dams throughout the
country and plans to build hundreds more. Many of these, such as
the Ohio River navigational dams, have tailwaters that, for various
reasons, attract millions of fish. These areas offer us a unique
opportunity to develop fishing for those previously deprived of the
experience by lack of sight or mobility. 

      A locksmith from Wisconsin believes the blind would benefit
from specially shaped door knobs (oval and textured, he thinks),
and he is willing to design them. These knobs would warn us of
stairs and other so-called  danger areas.  A pilot from
Pennsylvania thinks we should solve the problems we have with
airlines by setting up one of our own: segregated and simple no
more trouble, either for us or the sighted public. A woman from
Tennessee thinks her blind daughter is unable to play with sighted
children:  Lynn is a smart little girl,  she writes,  and makes
good grades. Since she can't play with other children, she has
turned to books. We call her our little book worm. 

      Then, there is religion. Many people have enlightened
attitudes about it, but a great many do not and when they do not,
the blind come in for very special treatment. First, consider the
gentle and compassionate. Not long ago the Augsburg Publishing
House distributed a bulletin to the Lutheran Churches. It said in
part:  To engage in a lively conversation with someone who is blind
as if he is not blind is to honor him.  I am sure that the
sentiment was kindly meant, but not many of us would feel honored.
How do you engage in a conversation with someone who is blind as if
he is not blind? It is like engaging in a conversation with someone
from Missouri as if he were not from Missouri.

      But let us leave this subtle stuff and get to the fire and
brimstone. Not long ago a woman from Des Moines wrote me and laid
it out.

       I have never heard,  she said,  of a Christian family having
a blind child. The Lord Jesus Christ looks after His people. People
are getting so wicked. God is chastising people for not following
Him and doing His ways. Fifty years ago I never heard of blind
people. Now there are so many. Hundreds of them. Why don't you all
get saved? And then the Lord will heal your eyes if you ask Him to
or go have a minister pray for you. 

      That puts it on the line. Wouldn't you say? Now, I don't know
how you read the scriptures, but that is not the way I read them.
If the incidents I am relating were isolated happenings, I would
not discuss them but they are not. They occur on a daily basis,
with monotonous frequency. They are the typical, the norm. I deal
with hundreds and thousands of them in an ongoing pattern.

      Here, for instance, is a letter which Ralph Sanders recently
got. It is no less condescending than the one I just quoted, but
perhaps it is a bit more secular.  Ralph: to think you have been
considered a second-class citizen when you have been required to
sit in a certain pew disgusts me. Give the sighted some
consideration. You count your footsteps and note your directions.
Your pew was chosen for you to `hear' the sermon. It is located
where you don't stumble over some sleeping person's feet, and if
you happen to really get the spirit during the sermon and forget
the footsteps and directions, the person who told you where the
best place was for you to sit will be able to identify you and give
you companionship as soon as possible. 

      Yet, they tell us there is no discrimination and that we are
not a minority. I have said it before, and I will say it again. We
want no strife or confrontation, but we will do what we have to do.
To the extent required we will meet pressure with pressure and
force with force. We are simply no longer willing to be
second-class citizens. We know who we are, and we will never go
back.

      As I have indicated, there are those who base the claim that
we are inferior on religion, but there are also those who base it
on science. Here is a case in point:  The blind,  the writer
declares,  can never be truly equal, because they cannot have any
combination of senses to equal vision. For example, they cannot
view the lives of microscopic organisms or analyze atomic
structures by sight. The key to life itself is left unseen by them.


      How many sighted people do you suppose this man thinks have
ever seen an atom! And what about electrons and protons and
neutrons? To quote Isaac Asimov,  As far as the protons and
electrons are concerned, the neutrons can go jump in the lake 
which is about the way I feel about the man who wrote that letter.

      Pat Barrett is one of the leaders of the National Federation
of the Blind of Idaho. Early this year he wrote me about Games
magazine. Games is published by Playboy Press and has adult
crossword puzzles. On the cover of the February, 1983, issue were
colloquialisms expressed in the form of pictures.  Holy mackerel 
was a fish with holes in it.  Blind as a bat  was a bat carrying a
cup of pencils. As Pat said in his letter of protest to Playboy, 
the idea that blind persons usually sell pencils on the street
corner is outdated and shallow. 

      The notion that we are inferior is not limited to the
everyday world. It penetrates every corner of existence. A prison
inmate recently wrote to tell me that he would like to do recording
for the blind. As he put it,  If I can help someone less fortunate
than I am, I would like to do it. 

      In a slightly different vein a man wrote me last year to ask
for my help concerning a friend who was in the penitentiary.  He is
serving three years on theft of property charges stemming from
several checks written for over $100.00,  the man said.  Prison is
no place for a blind person, and I was wondering if you could
intervene for an early parole. 

      A man in Minnesota thinks blind alcoholics cannot benefit
from regular programs used by the sighted and suggests segregated
services. The Manchester Union Leader (one of New Hampshire's most
prominent newspapers) says that the governor of the state is so bad
that only the deaf, the dumb, and the blind could believe he is
competent. Hazel Staley (one of the leaders of our North Carolina
affiliate) was denied the right this year to take a tour with her
church group through Cannon Mills.

      Then, there is the battle which Don Capps had last year with
the Hyland Therapeutics Division of Travenol Laboratories of
Glendale, California. That organization pays people to participate
in its plasmapheresis program. This is a high-toned way of saying
that blood is taken from the person, plasma and other components
are extracted from the blood, and the remaining portion of the
blood is then injected back into the person's body. The laboratory
took the position that blind persons were not capable of
participating. Don Capps disagreed.  Dear Dr. Rodell,  he wrote: 
I must conclude from your letter that you know virtually nothing
about blindness or blind people. Whether you fully realize it or
not, your remarks and the policy they imply are blatantly
discriminatory. You subtly imply that blind persons will inhibit or
disturb the operation's safety.  You also mention that prospective
donors are required to read a detailed Informed Consent Form and
then sign it, indicating that the form has been read and
understood. If you will think for a moment, you must realize that
blind patients undergoing surgery or medical treatment must also
sign Informed Consent Forms, as well as a variety of other
contracts and legal papers in their lifetimes. 

      Dr. Rodell didn't like it, but he grudgingly began to give
ground. He tried to delay. Under date of October 26, 1981, he
wrote:  Since the processing of blind donors requires changes to be
made in routine procedures, we are obligated to deny participation
until such procedural changes are made in an orderly, thoughtful,
and constructive manner. I will instruct my staff to initiate
appropriate action in that direction. I sympathize with your
concerns relative to problems that are faced by blind persons, but
strongly object to and do not agree with your conclusion that we
are discriminating against them. 

      Don was not deterred. He kept at it. When Dr. Rodell (in a
letter dated March 23, 1982) finally gave in and said he would
accept the blind as donors, he got in as many nasty little licks as
he could. In his special rules concerning the blind he said:  On
the Donor Master Form, below the area for allergies, print in red
BLIND or LIMITED-VISION so that the donor's needs are immediately
recognized whenever he presents himself. 

      All of this gibbering insanity (this talk of blindness as an
allergy, of oval shaped door knobs and segregated fishing
facilities, of Christians not losing their sight, and blind persons
not being equal because of their inability to see atoms) could be
chalked up to madness and soon forgotten except for this: It
translates into cruelty and pain and deprivation. It means lack of
opportunity and denial of employment. It leads to broken lives and
shattered dreams.

      A blind man is denied the right to sell insurance because a
company official believes his signature would not be valid. A blind
mother in California has her children taken away from her because
she is blind, and we have to go to court and the press to get them
back. Sighted parents from Illinois tell of the treatment they got
when their son became blind:

       Our son is sixteen years old,  they write,  and went totally
blind in May of 1980, after he was hit on the head in the hall at
school. Family and friends quietly deserted us. Even now we are
that family with the blind child, and our youngest son has been the
target for ridicule and cruelty because of his `stupid blind
brother.' 

      Sally Prentice is one of our members from Connecticut. She
went to a job fair to seek employment.  In October of 1981,  she
writes,  I attended a job fair for the handicapped in Stamford,
Connecticut. It was sponsored by the Easter Seal Center. Attending
the fair were representatives of many large corporations, among
them Xerox. Xerox was having its own business problems and was not
hiring at the time. They did, however, take it upon themselves to
offer me advice.

       I went to this job fair in good faith, believing that
companies also sent representatives in good faith to recruit
qualified disabled individuals. I went with my resume in hand (and
I have reason to believe it is well done). I dressed in a skirt and
blazer, the kind of thing anyone would be proud to wear to a job
interview. I went alone, carrying my white cane and portfolio.

       I talked with three representatives from the Xerox personnel
office at their booth. After a few moments of conversation, they
informed me that they were not hiring and offered the following
advice. They said that I was too self-assured, too articulate, and
too effective. They advised me that it was obvious from my manner
that if anyone were to `give me a job,' I would not be `grateful,'
but would feel that I deserved it! They said that this attitude
would hurt me and that I should, therefore, try to appear more
humble.

       It had never before occurred to me that anyone could think
I wanted them to `give me a job.' I was applying to be employed,
and I know I have ability worth paying for. A gift can be many
things. It can be given out of love or it can be given to the
helpless and needy out of charity. I did not want love or charity
from the Xerox Corporation. I might have deserved a job if I had
received fair consideration. It was clear to me that no blind
person could receive fair consideration from these people. They had
set different standards for blind job applicants than for sighted
ones.

       It may seem surprising, but I was thinking of the interviews
I had when I was sighted. I got every job I ever interviewed for.
I made a good impression, and employers were pleased to offer me a
position. I do not believe that I should change my whole life style
because I am blind. It's not good for me. It's not good for
employers. It's not good for other blind people. We must find a way
to make employers accept us for what we are. I was shaken by this
experience, but I was not taken in by it. I am continuing to use
the same techniques I have always used to seek employment. 

      Sally Prentice is a sensitive and intelligent human being.
Her letter does more than speak of employment. It tells of a need
which cries to be met. It talks of a people born to be free and a
spirit loose in the land. It calls the blind to joint action, and
points the way to where we must go. It shows us the past and how
far we have traveled. It looks to the future and the distance
ahead. It demands and exhorts and encourages. It causes us to think
of what we have been through the ages, of what we have become as a
movement, and of what we certainly and surely intend to be.

      Sally Prentice (and the rest of us like her) cannot be
checked in our growing momentum. We have found the other half of
inertia, and we are generating the force to make our dreams
reality. The very fact of our Federation is the strongest proof of
what I have said. Yes, we still experience discrimination, denial,
and lack of opportunity; but the tide is running the other way. It
can be seen in our victories in the sheltered shops; in our radio
and television spots, which blanket the nation; and in the jobs
which blind people are getting and holding. It can be seen in the
hope, the determination, and the zest for the future which blind
people now are feeling. It can be seen in the mood and the joy of
this convention.

      We have learned the truth of the other half of inertia:
things in motion tend to remain in motion and it is as hard to stop
something which is moving as it is to start something which is not.
We are moving! We are going with a mighty sweep, straight for
equality and first-class status and no force on earth can slow us
down or turn us back or change our direction. My brothers and my
sisters, the future is ours. Come! March with me in the quickening
pace, and we will make it come true!

      The Unfriendly Skies

     Although the problem of the airlines did not begin in the
concluding years of the second Jernigan presidency, it reached its
full climax during that period, so this would seem to be the
logical place to discuss it.

     Throughout the first half century of the organized blind
movement, with all its struggles and humiliations, no event has
more vividly or cruelly exposed its status as a minority group than
that chapter in its history known to blind people everywhere as the
episode of  The Unfriendly Skies.  Likewise, no event would more
plainly illustrate the fierce determination of this movement of
blind Americans not to be treated any longer as inferiors or
second-class citizens. Indeed, the dramatic confrontations between
the airlines and the blind, individually and collectively, carried
resonant echoes of another civil rights struggle in another era
when another minority group, seeking to travel freely, held fast to
their seats and refused to move to the back of the bus. ( I'm gonna
keep my long white cane, and I'm gonna travel on this here plane! 
read a 1980 headline in the Braille Monitor.)

     The humiliation and harassment of blind passengers in  the
wild blue yonder  reached its crescendo in the decade of the
eighties as individual airlines and the Federal Aviation
Administration somewhat modified their policies or shifted
positions in response to increasing protests by blind passengers.
By 1984 the incidents of interference by airline personnel with the
rights of blind travelers were so frequent as to seem almost
commonplace. Accordingly one of the principal items on the agenda
of the National Federation of the Blind at its convention that year
in Phoenix was the issue of  The Unfriendly Skies.  Nearly 2,000
blind people participated in a convention symposium on the subject 
Air Travel and the Blind: The Law, the Policy, and the Practice. 
Chaired by National Federation of the Blind President Kenneth
Jernigan, the symposium featured a survey of the issue by Marc
Maurer (the future Federation President, who was then a lawyer in
private practice), and presentations by a representative of the
Federal Aviation Administration, J. E. Murdock III, and an official
of Delta Airlines, Foy Phillips. These presentations were followed
by questions and comments from the floor, which pointed up the
differences of interest and attitude dividing the airline industry
and the blind consumers of its service. Here is how some of the
discussion went:

      Karen Edwards of New Mexico said:  On January 31 of this year
I boarded an American Airlines flight in Dallas-Fort Worth destined
for El Paso, Texas. After I seated myself, I proceeded to place my
cane between the seat and the fuselage of the aircraft. As I
buckled my seat belt, a flight attendant approached me and
attempted to reach over me to retrieve my cane, saying that it
would be necessary to have the cane stored during takeoff because
of safety reasons. I informed her that the FAA regulations had been
updated so that blind people's rights would be protected and that
they could carry their canes at all times with them during the
flight. I tried to explain the rationale behind the regulations,
but to no avail. The flight attendant left and came back with
another person, who said that their inflight manual had these
regulations that canes and crutches had to be stored in overhead
racks or in an enclosed space. In the meantime most of the
passengers had already boarded the aircraft, and the attendants
were becoming impatient with me; and finally they presented me with
an ultimatum. `Either you give up your cane now, or you'll have to
deplane.' I was not a very experienced person on an aircraft. I'd
flown a few times, but I was shaken up by this kind of treatment.
I thought my only alternative really was to deplane. I think I
could kick myself a few times now for doing it, but I did comply.
I was stranded in the Dallas-Fort Worth airport, because there
weren't any other flights leaving that night. I didn't know anyone
in the city, and having come back from the March on Washington, I
only had a few dollars left. My ride had come more than fifty miles
to wait for me at the El Paso airport, so he was still waiting
there. It took me several phone calls to finally reach someone from
the Federation who could make contact with someone in Dallas that
I could stay with for the night.

       I ended up having to spend more than sixty dollars in cab
fare to get to and from his house. The next day I boarded another
American Airlines flight and had no trouble at all. I took my cane
with me, and I was expecting trouble but nothing happened. And I
was so curious I had to ask what had taken place. I was informed
that their supervisor said that if I wanted to make trouble and my
cane became dislodged during flight and injured someone else, I
would be liable. Mr. Murdock, I'd like to know first of all, do you
approve of such treatment of blind passengers? If not, what can you
do to remedy these situations? I can assure you it was extremely
humiliating to have to deplane with all the passengers looking on,
and I'd like to know if you can do anything. What will you do? 

      Mr. Murdock replied:  Let me say first on behalf of the
industry which I represent as a government official that I
personally apologize to you. I think that's atrocious behavior by
American. As to the solution, I think that the ultimate solution
(the way to deal with it) is to do what Delta is doing and I will
call Mr. Crandall when I get home (who is the chairman of American
Airlines), relate to him the facts if we can get together and go
over the details a little more and indicate to him I think that's
pathetic behavior. 

      President Jernigan said:  Mr. Murdock, we got hold of Mr.
Crandall or tried to. We had letters written on this and other
incidents. American sent somebody to my office a local official,
not very high in the hierarchy, to talk to me; and I presume to try
to soothe me down. I gave him details of many incidents. American
has become one of the most insensitive, and has behaved as badly as
anybody could. You've heard one incident. I want quickly to give
you some others, and please, all of you, make it go rapidly. Brenda
Williams, are you at a mike? 

      Brenda Williams said:  On June 29 of this year when I was
departing from Baltimore, Maryland, on TWA Airlines, I was going
through security; and two guards grabbed me and took my cane from
me. I tried to explain to them that the cane would not set the
system off; but, anyhow, they said that they did not want to hear
that. They just held on to me, refused to turn me loose, and
snatched the cane away from me.

      Charlie Brown then spoke:  The incident that Marc Maurer
referred to about not being able to sit on the upper deck of the
747 occurred to somebody who is well-known to a number of us and
had nothing to do with safety, and was pure discrimination. You
talk about calling this person or that person. What is it that you
will or can actually do? You wouldn't like to get that kind of
treatment. 

      President Jernigan:  What really can you do if you decide
something is wrong, Mr. Murdock? In all candor if an airline tells
you, `Look, old buddy, we appreciate your views, but get lost.'
What can you do? Anything? 

      Mr. Murdock:  The statutory power of the FAA, as I tried to
spell out in my speech, is to decide whether things are safe and
unsafe. If they are correct in their assumption that something is
safe, that the procedure is safe (not safer or closer to an
absolute) we're powerless. 

      President Jernigan:  Look, it's safe to grab Brenda Williams
and hold her and take her cane by force from her. That's safe. Yes,
it is. And it didn't hurt her. Her pride may be bruised some, but
she won't die. Can you do anything about that if you find that's
true? 

      Mr. Murdock:  We do not have enforcement authority in that
kind of behavior. 

      President Jernigan:  So there really isn't anything you can
do about it. Is that so? 

      Mr. Murdock:  That's right. That's correct, sir. 

      Joyce Scanlan of Minnesota said:  I'd like to speak to Mr.
Murdock. I do a good bit of traveling, and most of it by air; and
I can tell you that that's one of the most unpleasant things that
I do. That is because of the treatment that I get from airline
personnel all down the line every step of the way on any trip. I
have to worry about these folks descending upon me and
custodializing me and making demands of me and so forth. I could
give you a whole list of different kinds of things that happen but
one incident, I think, is probably outstanding and that happened
with United Airlines when a number of us from Minneapolis were on
our way to the 1981 National Convention in Baltimore. We had a stop
in Cleveland, Ohio. As we approached the next flight to board, we
were confronted by this airline ground person who demanded that we
pledge to give up our canes before we would be allowed to get on
the airline. Can you imagine that? You know, we need our canes for
safety and independence, and this individual insisted that we agree
to give up our canes (our safety and our independence) in order to
ride that plane. Well, of course, we had a long discussion about
it, after which he didn't change his mind; and neither did we. I
thought I was among the Nazis. This guy stood there and told us how
he was only following orders. He said he was following your orders,
Mr. Murdock, from FAA. It was an FAA rule that we had to do all
this. So we were refused the right to get on the plane. The only
option we had was to go the rest of the way by bus a twelve-hour
ride. I can tell you that wasn't pleasant. But I can tell you that
the whole thing was totally unnecessary, and it came about just
because of the lack of understanding and the rude, insulting
behavior by these airline people. Now, do you support that kind of
behavior? And what can you do about it? I guess I'd like to know
also what will you do about it. 

      Mr. Murdock:  Well, as Mr. Maurer already indicated, you are
allowed to take your cane on board, and it is to be available to
you. That's been done for several years. What we can do in the
future is really what Delta has done and several other carriers can
do, which is to raise the consciousness of employees. United
Airlines employs fifty thousand people. Not all of them are even
nearly perfect, and it takes a lot of education by that management
to get them to be responsive to your needs and to other travelers'
needs. 

      President Jernigan:  Mr. Murdock, we agree that the FAA did
do what you say. It says we can have our canes, and yet a lot of
the airline personnel come and straight lie to us and say FAA is
now requiring us to do this; and then, they get insulted when we
ask to see the regulations won't show us the regulations, and say
you did it and it leads to confrontation. Marc Maurer said:  Dr.
Jernigan, the regulation that we have been talking about this
morning, 14 CFR 121.586, contains a provision which states that if
the administrator finds that in the interest of safety or if, in
the public interest, it is necessary to change the airline's
regulations, then the Federal Aviation Administrator has that
power. I wonder if Mr. Murdock can talk to us about what the FAA
will do to change these regulations in the public interest in our
interest to have free and equal access to airlines. 

      Mr. Murdock:  Public interest is, as Mr. Maurer as a lawyer
probably knows, defined in the statute which we have; and
unfortunately the Congress in 1938 when it wrote the statute and
defined the public interest in Section 102 of the Act, which I'm
sure Mr. Maurer has read, does not include the access you're
talking about. Now, that doesn't mean I won't try to work for it;
but statutorily we have very limited powers, and I'm sure Mr.
Maurer knows that. 

      Mike Hingson of California said:  Mr. Murdock, in September
of 1980, I reserved passage and paid for a ticket on Pacific
Southwest Airlines to fly from Los Angeles to San Francisco. After
arriving at the gate, I was told that most passengers had already
boarded the aircraft and I would not be able to fly on that
aircraft, because of the fact that I needed to be seated in a
bulkhead seat. I was not allowed to fly on that aircraft and
attempted to fly on the next scheduled flight on PSA from Los
Angeles to San Francisco. I boarded the aircraft in plenty of time;
was denied access to the aircraft beyond the bulkhead seat; and had
discussions with the flight attendants, the captain of the
aircraft, and the supervisor of ground personnel about the
situation. I was eventually forcibly ejected from the aircraft. My
left arm was bent behind my back. My thumb was injured. My watch
was broken off my wrist. Subsequent to all that, we found that
PSA's policy was, in fact, that a blind person with a dog guide
could sit anywhere on the aircraft they wanted to. There were no
bulkhead seating requirements. That policy was carefully researched
by a representative from Pacific Southwest Airlines and had been
made significantly before the time of my incident. Nevertheless, I
was thrown off the aircraft in a very humiliating way. I ask
essentially the same questions that have been asked before. Does
the FAA support that kind of activity? Is there anything that you
can do to prevent that kind of activity from happening in the
future? And if so, what will you do about it? 

      Mr. Murdock responded:  I sound like I'm repeating myself,
but the answer to your first question is no. We do not condone or
even accept that kind of behavior. Secondly, what can we do about
it? I've outlined for you what I think is the way to go about it.
PSA is liable to you for assault and battery, based on their own
procedures. You have lots of legal recourse.

     For the next four years the struggle of the blind to achieve
equality in air transportation continued and escalated. At the
convention of the National Federation of the Blind which occurred
in Chicago in the summer of 1988 Kenneth Jernigan described in
graphic terms the efforts of airline personnel to deprive blind
travelers of basic, essential human rights. By that time the
arrests had multiplied. The period of hostility which must be
endured before any minority may achieve first-class status had come
to be a reality for the blind. Progress was often measured in tiny
increments, but the spirit of determination was undaunted, and the
mood of the delegates was one of irrepressible confidence in the
capacity of the blind to succeed in achieving equality.

     Even though the right to fly without intimidation, harassment,
and arrest was one of the most hard-fought battles of the
Federation during the last decade of its first half-century, and
even though at the fifty year mark this struggle had not yet been
concluded, it welded the Federation into a unified whole and
signaled a new direction. The blind had previously been almost
universally ignored by much of society. Certain private agencies
and governmental programs had been established to serve the blind,
but blindness was almost never considered as a significant factor
outside these special entities. Without understanding the
implications, airline officials promulgated a set of rules for the
treatment of the blind. It is not astonishing that these rules
discriminated. However, blind people insisted on equal treatment.
The organized blind movement declared that the entire airline
industry must come to admit that it had no useful information about
blindness. Airline officials, said the Federation, must learn to
treat blind people as equals, and the teaching would be done by the
blind. This is the message Kenneth Jernigan presented in his
address delivered on July 6, 1988, at the convention of the
National Federation of the Blind in Chicago:

       AIR TRAVEL AND THE BLIND THE STRUGGLE FOR EQUALITY
                       by Kenneth Jernigan

      When we met for our convention last year in Phoenix, the
problems which blind persons are having with the airlines were a
major topic of discussion. During the past twelve months the
discrimination and abuse have grown worse. Today the situation is
such that no blind person anywhere in the country can board a plane
without fear of harassment, public humiliation, and possibly arrest
and bodily injury.

      The incidents involve almost every aspect of air travel
insistence that blind passengers pre-board, insistence that we
post-board, demands that we demonstrate our capacity to fasten or
unfasten a seat belt, requirements that we sit (or not sit) in
various sections of the plane, and even attempts to take our small
children from us when we are boarding or leaving the aircraft. But
the item which has unquestionably created the most heat and
publicity centers around exit row seating. It is not that blind
passengers have asked to be assigned to these seats but that
airline personnel have repeatedly put us there and then insisted
(with great public commotion) that we move. In these confrontations
the word  safety  is always trotted out and made the excuse for
every unreasonable and illegal act which anybody cares to
perpetrate.

      In May of 1987 Joseph Sontag and Nancy Kruger were arrested
on a Simmons Airlines plane. Members of the Simmons flight crew
insisted that Sontag and Kruger give up their canes instead of
being allowed to keep them at their seats as permitted by federal
regulations, and when Sontag and Kruger refused, the police were
called. We filed a complaint with the federal Department of
Transportation, and although almost a year has passed, nothing has
been done about it and there is no indication that anything will be
done about it.

      In October of 1987 Bill Meeker (a blind employee of the U. S.
Department of Labor's Office of Federal Contract Compliance
Programs) was traveling on official business. He experienced what
has almost come to be the standard airline treatment. He boarded a
Midwest Express airplane for Milwaukee and took his assigned seat.
He learned that it was an exit row, and almost immediately
thereafter he was confronted and ordered to move, being told that
he was violating a federal regulation. When he said that he knew
the law, that no such regulation existed, and that he would not
move under such circumstances, he was arrested. As is typical in
these cases, the charges were later dropped.

      Last November Robert Greenberg was refused transportation by
American Airlines. He was assigned a seat (an assignment he had not
requested) near an emergency exit and was then publicly and
abusively ordered to move. When he refused, the flight was canceled
and the passengers were told to leave the plane. Everybody but
Greenberg was then reboarded. Not only was he not permitted to
reboard, but he was also told that he could never ride another
American Airlines plane again at any time in the future. He was
also denied a refund on his ticket. Once more, we filed a complaint
with the federal Department of Transportation and again nothing has
happened.

      In January of this year Congressman James A. Traficant
introduced H.R. 3883, the Air Travel Rights for Blind Individuals
Act. There are now 110 cosponsors of that bill, which is pending in
the House of Representatives. In February Senator Ernest F.
Hollings introduced the same bill, S. 2098. That bill now has
twenty-four senate cosponsors. These bills by Senator Hollings and
Congressman Traficant prohibit any special seating restrictions for
blind air passengers.

      Shortly before last year's convention we got a ruling from
the Maryland Attorney General that it was unlawful for airlines to
apply special seating restrictions to the blind. The effectiveness
of that ruling was proved when Sharon Gold, who was flying from
Baltimore to California, showed it to the American Airlines crew
who were trying to make her move from her assigned seat before
takeoff. She did not move, and she was not arrested or taken off
the plane. As you will remember, we brought copies of the Maryland
ruling to last year's convention and asked all of you to move
quickly and firmly to set up meetings with every state attorney
general in the nation, and with the manager of every airport. At
that time I said to you:  Show them the Maryland ruling, and remind
them that their state has a white cane law, which has the same
provisions that the Maryland law has. Get a ruling from your
attorney general. Get an agreement from your airport manager. Once
you get the ruling, make many copies of it, and see that every
blind person who flies has one in his or her pocket. 

      Today the attorneys general of ten states have made such
rulings, and since Chicago is a central transfer point for air
travel, the ruling by Illinois Attorney General Neil Hartigan has
special significance. Attorney General Hartigan is here today, and
not only the blind but all others who believe in the rule of law
instead of whim and special privilege owe him a debt of gratitude.

      If we were really dealing with a question of safety, no one
(blind or sighted) would object, but we are not. Consider, for
instance, the opinion of an airline pilot. In an affidavit made in
1985, he says in part:

      I, Jared Haas, being first duly sworn, depose and state: I
have been a pilot for many years. I currently fly 727 aircraft, and
I have been employed to do so since June of 1974.

      I am familiar with a number of blind people, and I am
generally familiar with the capacities of the blind. In an
emergency situation there are circumstances in which it would be
helpful to have an able-bodied blind person seated in an emergency
exit row with a sighted person. In those cases in which there is
smoke in the cabin, an able-bodied blind person, being used to
handling situations without sight, would be able to assist with
more facility in the evacuation. An able-bodied blind person would
not hinder an emergency evacuation.

      That is what a pilot says, and he is not just talking theory.
I am aware of at least one case where it was put to the test.
Everybody in this organization knows who the late Lawrence (Muzzy)
Marcelino was. In the early 1980s he was flying home from Baltimore
to California, and when the plane got ready to land in San
Francisco, there was a problem. The landing gear wouldn't come
down. The plane landed on foam, and the lights went out. An
emergency evacuation occurred. It was night, and there was near
panic. It was Muzzy who got to the exit and helped the sighted
passengers find it.

      So far as I have been able to determine, there is not a case
on record in which a blind person has been involved in the blocking
of an exit or the slowing of traffic in an airline emergency, and
as I have just told you, I know of at least one instance (the one
involving Muzzy) in which blindness was a positive asset. Yet, the
airlines keep prattling to us about safety while, at the same time,
knowingly doing things which diminish safety. I refer to the
serving of liquor to passengers in exit rows and the practice of
permitting excess carry-on luggage to be stowed with passengers at
their seats. For that matter, serving liquor at all on a plane in
flight probably reduces the safety margins, and so does smoking. I
am not saying that these things should be eliminated but only that
the treatment of the blind should be seen in perspective.

      When I was participating in the regulatory negotiation
process last summer to persuade the Department of Transportation to
come up with rules to prevent discrimination against the blind in
air travel, I personally heard officials of the Flight Standards
Administration of the Federal Aviation Administration repeatedly
say that they felt there was no safety question involved in blind
persons' sitting in exit rows on planes. They said that if they had
felt there was a safety question, they would long since have made
appropriate regulations. The Flight Standards Administration is
that branch of FAA which is responsible for determining questions
of safety in air travel. Only when FAA attorneys began to apply
pressure did the nature of the comments by Flight Standards
officials change. Rather than oppose the airlines, the FAA
apparently finds it easier to duck behind the safety issue.

      The problem with the arguments being advanced by the FAA and
the airlines is that those arguments are based on the false premise
that sighted persons (excluding the elderly, the frail, the
pregnant, and children) are uniformly capable and alert. The blind
person (with whatever limitations and strengths he or she may
possess) is compared with the ideal sighted person a person who in
most cases does not exist. Last fall when Senator Dole promised to
help deal with the airline problem, he said that it would not occur
to anybody to suggest that he should not be allowed to sit in an
exit row. Yet (because of his physical handicap), he would not, he
said, be able to open the exit.

      Several years ago when we were taking both sighted and blind
people to the Baltimore airport to make a test evacuation of a
World Airways plane, we had to eliminate from consideration many of
the sighted that we might have chosen. One had back problems;
another had foot problems; and still another had difficulties with
heart and blood pressure. In the real world of everyday commercial
air travel none of these people would have been excluded from the
exit row. Why, then, should the blind be held to a different
standard from the sighted?

      The truth is that if you consider the scarcity of accidents
in proportion to the number of miles which are flown and the
relatively small number of blind people who are likely to be on a
given flight at a given time, the potential risk would almost be
zero even if all of the claims by the airlines about the unsafeness
of the blind were true. The serving of liquor to passengers, the
permitting of smoking, the carry-on luggage, the undetected
emotional and physical problems of the average passenger, and a
hundred other things are much more real as problems than the
minimal risk potentially posed by the blind plus the fact, as I
have already said, that in certain circumstances the blind would
have an advantage in helping themselves and others. Nevertheless,
the airlines persist in their phony game of  It is all a matter of
safety,  and the FAA bows to the pressure and seeks to take the
easy way out.

      In truth and in fact we are not dealing with a safety issue
at all but a matter of civil rights, and we simply will not be
bullied and intimidated into submission. We will speak to the
public and the Congress until we get results. And make no mistake
about it we will be heard, and we will be heeded.

      Two incidents this spring graphically illustrate the
unreasonableness of the treatment which we are receiving from the
airlines. On a Midway Airlines flight from Baltimore to Des Moines
Peggy Pinder (the Second Vice President of the National Federation
of the Blind and the President of the National Federation of the
Blind of Iowa) was arrested for refusing to move to a seat near an
emergency exit; and only a few days later Jim Gashel (our Director
of Governmental Affairs) was arrested and removed from a United
Airlines flight for almost the exact opposite reason. He was
sitting in his assigned seat (one he had not requested) in an exit
row and refused to move. In Peggy's case the facts are thoroughly
documented and particularly vicious and ugly, not to mention
ironic.

      She was going home to Iowa from Washington after a day of
testifying before the Republican National Committee on ways of
increasing participation of blind persons in the mainstream of
American life and of eliminating discrimination against the blind.
When she arrived at the airport, she was ordered to pre-board the
plane. She declined but was told that she would either pre-board or
not be permitted to travel. She submitted and did as she was
ordered. The plane had open seating, so she went to the back and
took a seat in the smoking section. She said she did not need a
special briefing, but when she was publicly and abusively ordered
to take one, she did it. Then, when she refused to change her seat
(which was not in an exit row), she was arrested and bodily carried
from the plane in a particularly offensive manner. In her own
words:

      The officer lifted me from my seat and physically moved me
into the aisle. At this point I stood up and waited for the
officer's next action. The officer positioned himself behind me and
lifted me from the floor. He accomplished this by reaching his arms
around me from behind and placing his hands on my breasts. From
this position he lifted me from the floor and carried me off the
plane, at one point saying,  Jesus Christ. 

      While asserting my legal rights on board the airplane, I
maintained a posture of calmness. I found the personal
confrontation emotionally upsetting. I was also upset by being
physically carried from the plane and having my breasts grasped. I
did nothing to provoke this physical abuse and violation of my
person; yet, the officer took control over my body.

      The fact that Peggy Pinder was arrested for not moving to
another seat is confirmed by statements made by Midway officials in
the New York Times. The Times article, dated April 3, 1988, says in
part:

      A Midway Airlines spokeswoman, Sandra Allen, said it is the
airline's policy to seat all handicapped people in the first row of
the plane near where they can be easily evacuated. According to
both the spokeswoman and Miss Pinder, after she refused to switch
seats the airport police were called to remove her from the plane.

      Not only the New York Times but also radio, television, and
other newspapers throughout the land discussed the matter.
Overwhelmingly the editorial comment was favorable to our cause.
Apparently Midway thought it had better change its story. Maybe
where Peggy was sitting had nothing to do with it. Maybe she had
violated a federal regulation in some other way. Maybe she had
refused to listen to a briefing about safety features of the
airplane. Never mind that sighted passengers are not required to
look at the demonstrations which flight attendants give and that
Peggy can hear what the flight attendants say during those
demonstrations as well as anybody else.

      Under date of April 15, 1988, David Armstrong (Midway's
Secretary and Vice President for Legal Affairs) wrote a letter to
Matthew Scocozza, Assistant Secretary for Policy and International
Affairs of the federal Department of Transportation. He began by
very chummily scratching out  Dear Mr. Scocozza  and replacing it
with  Dear Mat.  The story Mr. Armstrong told was one of virtue,
long-suffering patience, and saintly behavior by Midway personnel.
Peggy Pinder was not ordered to pre-board but politely asked to do
so. She unreasonably declined and then was permitted to board with
the regular passengers. In Mr. Armstrong's words:  Ms. Pinder
boarded the aircraft with the first passengers on the regular
boarding queue. 

      Mr. Armstrong went on to portray Miss Pinder as unreasonable,
petulant, and immature. In his words:  Ms. Pinder indicated that
she did not wish to be briefed because she `had flown several
times.'  Mr. Armstrong went on to say that flight attendants
continued (at least four more times) to try to get Miss Pinder to
consent to be briefed but that she persisted in her refusal thus
violating the federal law, endangering every passenger on the
plane, and compelling the pilot to call the police.

      This matter of a  briefing  is made to sound like a divine
mystery instead of the routine speech and demonstration which it
is. Passengers rarely pay attention to it. They do not stop their
conversations or put aside their magazines, newspapers, books,
earphones, or calculators especially after their first few flights;
and nobody tries to force them or put them under arrest for their
inattention.

      But let us put this to one side and deal with the more basic
question of the contradictory statements. Who is telling the truth
Mr. Armstrong, or Miss Pinder? If Midway's statements to the press
at the time of the occurrence are not sufficient, perhaps the
police report will suffice. In his official statement the arresting
officer said:  I along with Officer M. Young responded to the
dispute. We approached the suspect with flight attendant Freitag.
Flight attendant Freitag again asked the suspect to listen to the
handicap briefing. The suspect at this time listened to the
briefing. The flight attendant then asked the suspect to move to
the appropriate seat which is in accordance with Midway policy. The
suspect refused. Officer Young and myself asked the suspect to move
to the other seat. The suspect refused. Officer Young then assisted
the suspect off the plane per order of the captain. 

      Peggy Pinder was, if you can believe it, arrested on charges
of  criminal trespass ; but as is typical in these cases, the
charges were dropped. Why? Out of kindness? Don't you believe it.
Midway was wrong and they know they were wrong. Sooner or later
there had to be a court case to put a stop to this kind of vicious
abuse, and this seems about as good a one as any. We hereby serve
notice on Midway Airlines that they should ready their defenses and
prepare to justify their behavior before a jury. They have tried to
forestall the problem by filing a lengthy petition asking the
federal Department of Transportation to rule that what they did was
in accordance with Department rules and that (take note, Attorney
General Hartigan) the states are preempted in the matter by the
federal government.

      As to the Department of Transportation, it has now indicated
that it will (at long last) make the rules which the Air Carrier
Access Act of 1986 required it to issue over a year ago. The
proposed rules are a classic example of federal double talk and
deceit. They say very piously and forthrightly that air carriers
may not discriminate against any blind person in seating
arrangements except in instances where the Federal Aviation
Administration requires it for safety, but they will establish a
list of required functions. With a straight face the chief counsel
of the Federal Aviation Administration recently told me that no
blind person could be excluded from an exit row seat but that if a
person could not see, he or she might be excluded from such a seat.
It is all a matter of function, he said, not blindness. And these
are the people who are writing the rules and protecting the public.

      As we consider what to do about our problems with the
airlines, I want to remind you of some of the things which have
been said about liberty and freedom.  They that give up essential
liberty,  said Benjamin Franklin,  to obtain a little temporary
safety deserve neither liberty nor safety.   Freedom,  said Max
Stirner,  cannot be granted. It must be taken. 

      We hear, and we understand. We know what we must do, and we
have counted the cost. Is freedom meant only for the sighted, or is
it meant for us, too? Is it all right (even praiseworthy) for
sighted Americans to resist coercion and fight for their rights but
not all right for the blind? Can blind people hope to be free
Americans? We gave our answer to that question almost fifty years
ago. We formed the National Federation of the Blind and it is still
here, stronger and more active today than ever before in its
history.

      The battle lines are now drawn on the issue of freedom in air
travel for the blind, and we could not withdraw from the fight even
if we would. We will either win or lose. We did not seek this
fight, but we have no intention of running from it and we certainly
have no intention of being beaten into the ground. We have taken
our case to the Congress, and we will also take it to the public
and the courts and we intend to prevail. We want no strife or
confrontation, but we will do what we have to do. We are simply no
longer willing to be second-class citizens.

     Less than a year after this convention appearance Jernigan
struck the same theme in testimony before the Subcommittee on
Aviation of the Senate Committee on Commerce, Science, and
Transportation. He was appearing in his role as Executive Director
of the National Federation of the Blind and as the long-time leader
of the organized blind of America. His testimony was a summation of
years of experience with the airlines and a distillation of decades
of experience with discrimination and prejudice. It is reprinted
here as an appropriate commentary on the drama unfortunately still
unfinished of the organized blind in the unfriendly skies.

      Testimony: March 14, 1989

      Mr. Chairman, I am Kenneth Jernigan, Executive Director of
the National Federation of the Blind. This hearing concerns the Air
Travel Rights for Blind Individuals Act (S. 341), introduced by
Senator Hollings and others last month. We are pleased, Mr.
Chairman, that you and Senator McCain are original co-sponsors of
the bill. The Air Travel Rights for Blind Individuals Act is
necessary legislation. The blind, who have come here this morning
from throughout the United States, can tell you from personal
experience that this is so.

      Today the situation is such that no blind person in this
country can board a plane without fear of harassment, public
humiliation, and possibly arrest and bodily injury. I have been
riding on airplanes for more than thirty-five years, and I can say
from firsthand knowledge that it was not always like this. Prior to
the 1970s blind people almost never experienced problems in air
travel. We bought our tickets, went to the airport, boarded the
plane, traveled to our destination, got off, and went about our
business just like everybody else. If one of us wanted help in
boarding a plane or making a connection, the assistance was
requested and given without a thought.

      Then, things began to change. Ironically the problem was
caused by the 1973 amendments to the federal Rehabilitation Act and
the growing emphasis on affirmative action and prohibition of
discrimination against the handicapped. One would have thought
these things would have been positive steps, but they were not at
least, not for the blind. Airline personnel and federal regulators
didn't become knowledgeable overnight or lose their prejudices just
because somebody told them to engage in affirmative action and
nondiscrimination. Mostly with respect to air travel the blind
didn't need any affirmative action. We were doing just fine as it
was. But the airlines and the federal regulators wouldn't have it
that way.

      They began by lumping all of what they perceived to be the
handicapped together wheelchair users, the blind, the deaf, the
quadriplegic, the cerebral palsied, and everybody else including,
very often, small children. Next they catalogued what they believed
to be the problems, needs, and characteristics of these groups and
then assumed that each item on the list applied to every member of
every group they had included. The resulting mythical composite was
a monstrosity, totally helpless, totally in need of custody, and
totally nonexistent except in the minds of airline officials and
federal regulators.

      When we objected and insisted on our right to the same
freedom of travel that other Americans enjoy, the airline officials
and federal regulators reacted with anger and resentment. Since
nobody wants to admit to prejudice and ignorance, they said their
treatment of us was based on safety. After all, who can fight
safety!

      In 1986 Congress passed a law specifically prohibiting
discrimination on the basis of handicap in air travel, and even
that law has now been twisted into the exact opposite of what
Congress intended. Today we are faced with a proposed regulation by
the Federal Aviation Administration in response to the 1986 law,
and it is not by accident that the regulation was published just
prior to this hearing. Of course, the regulation is made in the
name of safety, but it is not a question of safety at all but of
human rights and the freedom to travel. More specifically the
regulation prohibits blind persons from sitting in exit rows on
airplanes, but much more than exit row seating is involved. If the
Air Travel Rights for Blind Individuals Act is adopted, a signal
will be sent to the airlines and the Federal Aviation
Administration. If the legislation is not passed and the FAA rule
is allowed to stand, a signal will also be sent that the blind are
fair game for any kind of treatment the airlines and the FAA wish
to give us, as long as it is done in the name of safety.

      If the abuse we are taking from the airlines had anything to
do with safety, we wouldn't object, but it doesn't. The truth is
that we are being made victims of a misdirected and misapplied
federal policy that has irrationally gone wild. Let me give you
examples and show you what I mean.

      In early February of this year the blind were in Washington
to talk to Congress about (among other things) the unreasonable
treatment we are receiving from the airlines. Going home from that
meeting Verla Kirsch, a blind woman from Iowa, was assaulted and
publicly humiliated by Midway Airlines flight personnel. Even
though Mrs. Kirsch's white cane was on the floor in the approved
FAA manner, the flight attendant (over her protest) took it from
her, returning it after takeoff. On the descent into Chicago two
Midway flight attendants sneaked up on Mrs. Kirsch, hunkered down,
grabbed and lifted her legs, (yes, I literally mean that) and in
her words,  yanked the cane from under my feet, bending the cane
and nearly breaking it. 

      On the trip from Chicago to Des Moines (still on Midway) Mrs.
Kirsch found that the word had gone ahead of her, but this time she
was prepared and refused to be caught off guard. After publicly
harassing her, flight personnel found in their own manual that Mrs.
Kirsch was in the right and that blind persons (according to
Midway's own policies) may keep their canes at their seats. But the
damage was done. Imagine the spectacle, the embarrassment, and the
public humiliation! This (and not just exit row seating) is what is
really at stake with the proposed FAA rule, this hearing, and the
passage of the Air Travel Rights for Blind Individuals Act.

      Is it safe for blind persons to sit in exit rows? Are there,
in fact, times when it would be a plus? Here is the sworn statement
of a pilot:

      I, Jared Haas, being first duly sworn, depose and state: I
have been a pilot for many years. I currently fly 727 aircraft, and
I have been employed to do so since June of 1974.

      I am familiar with a number of blind people, and I am
generally familiar with the capacities of the blind. In an
emergency situation there are circumstances in which it would be
helpful to have an able-bodied blind person seated in an emergency
exit row with a sighted person. In those cases in which there is
smoke in the cabin, an able-bodied blind person, being used to
handling situations without sight, would be able to assist with
more facility in the evacuation. An able-bodied blind person would
not hinder an emergency evacuation.

      That is what a pilot says, and he is not just talking theory.
I am aware of at least one case in which it was put to the test. In
the early 1980s Lawrence Marcelino, a member of the board of
directors of the National Federation of the Blind, was flying home
from Baltimore to California; and when the plane got ready to land
in San Francisco, there was a problem. The landing gear wouldn't
come down. The plane landed on foam, and the lights went out. An
emergency evacuation occurred. It was night, and there was near
panic. It was Marcelino who got to the exit and helped the sighted
passengers find it.

      So far as I have been able to determine, there is not a case
on record in which a blind person has been involved in the blocking
of an exit or the slowing of traffic in an emergency, and as I have
just told you, I know of at least one instance (the one involving
Marcelino) in which blindness was a positive asset. Yet, the FAA
and the airlines keep prattling to us about safety.

      What evidence do they have? I have carefully studied the
FAA's proposed rule, and they rely heavily on tests made in 1973 by
the Civil Aeromedical Institute (CAMI). The FAA's own words
discredit the CAMI tests.

      In their report CAMI said that blind passengers caused a
slight slowing of the evacuation of an airplane. However, for the
critical portion of the tests they did not use real blind persons
but sighted persons who pretended to be blind. These sighted
pretenders would have no experience in the techniques used by the
blind, nor would they have the background to know how to function
with skill and speed under blindfold. The real blind persons were
not allowed to open the emergency exits or to go down the
evacuation slides. It was a matter of safety, done for their own
protection. They were allowed to walk from their seats to the
emergency exits.

      Moreover, the selection of the people who were to be tested
is interesting. The sighted (the so-called nonhandicapped) were FAA
employees or people recruited through the University of Oklahoma's
Office of Research Administration. The blind (not the simulated but
the real) were recruited from the Oklahoma League for the Blind,
which operates a sheltered workshop. FAA employees are likely to be
familiar with aircraft and probably are frequent flyers. In short,
the sighted who participated in the test were selected for maximum
success.

      Federal statistics tell us that a large percentage of
sheltered workshop employees are multiply handicapped. In addition,
their low wages and limited opportunities make it unlikely that
they are regular air travelers. In short, the blind participants
(even when they were real and not simulated) were selected for poor
performance. I am not suggesting that all of this was consciously
done. Nevertheless, it was done. It is not very difficult to see
what the results would have been if blind frequent air travelers
had been tested against sighted sheltered workshop employees or,
for that matter, against the FAA personnel who were actually used.

      But we do not have to speculate about the competence of blind
persons to perform in emergency evacuations of airplanes. On April
3, 1985, members of the National Federation of the Blind took part
in the evacuation of an airplane at the Baltimore airport. The
airplane was real, and the blind persons were real. They were not
simulated, and they did not simply walk from their seats to the
exits but went all of the way opening the emergency exit, deploying
the evacuation slide, and jumping out. I know, for I was there. I
jumped out of that airplane twice.

      The test made by the National Federation of the Blind was
much more realistic than the one performed by CAMI. We wanted
approximately equal numbers of blind and sighted persons so that we
could see whether there was any difference in their speed and
efficiency. Our first problem was to find competent sighted
participants. One person had back problems; another had a bad
heart; another had foot problems; and so it went. But in the real
world of everyday flying every one of these people would have
qualified for exit row seating, without a question or a thought.

      We videotaped that test evacuation, and I have the tape here
with me today to submit as part of the record. If you run it once
through at normal speed, you will see passengers seated in a plane,
then moving to the exit, and going down the slide. Mostly you will
not be able to tell the difference between the sighted and the
blind. They move with equal ease.

      When you run the tape slowly (stopping at critical points to
study it), what it tells you is damning to the FAA's case. The
airline personnel said we should move quickly in a double line, but
a flight attendant was standing at the exit partially blocking it.
I know, for I had to go around her. In a real emergency I would not
have been slowed as I was in the test. I would have simply picked
her up, placed her gently but firmly on the slide, and followed
her.

      Standing beside the flight attendant, you will see a male
airline employee. He slows the flow of traffic by peeking around
the flight attendant to look down the slide to see whether the
blind are making it. The flight attendant also takes time out to
peek, further blocking the exit.

      You will observe that one of the passengers has a dog guide.
He was moving quickly to go down the evacuation slide but was
slowed by the male flight attendant, who insisted on trying to tell
him how to do it. The female flight attendant kept reaching her arm
back into the flow of traffic, presumably trying to help but in
reality impeding the evacuation. In one instance it can be seen
that she locks elbows with a female evacuee and then grabs at her,
causing the passenger to lose balance. Nevertheless, the descent
was made safely. As I have already said, in the real world the
airline personnel would probably not have had the opportunity to
slow the evacuation. In any case the tape speaks for itself.

      Last week I had occasion to fly from Denver to Washington,
and what happened to me is illustrative of the problem we are
facing. Although on many other trips I have been harassed and
threatened, nothing like that happened on this one. Everybody was
friendly and good-tempered, and I am sure the flight attendants
were not even aware that their actions were noteworthy. But you be
the judge. Put yourself in my place.

      I was traveling with my sighted wife. Shortly after we took
our seats, a flight attendant came and very pleasantly and politely
said that she must give me a special briefing. She asked me to feel
the oxygen mask and then said that she would like me to fasten and
unfasten my seat belt for her. Sighted persons are neither required
to look at nor listen to briefings, and certainly they are not
asked publicly to demonstrate that they are capable of fastening
and unfastening a seat belt. Nevertheless, I complied with good
temper and without protest.

      But, you may say, what's the big deal? Such treatment doesn't
really mean that you are being treated like a child, or thought of
as one. Perhaps but a few minutes later a second flight attendant
(again, a most pleasant individual) came to my seat and said to my
wife:  Has he had his special briefing yet? 

      I smiled and replied:  Yes, he has had his briefing. 

      The flight attendant gave a small embarrassed laugh, and the
rest of the flight proceeded without incident but what I have just
told you has far more significance than superficial appearance
would indicate. It translates into a general public feeling that
the blind are incompetent and unable to compete. Put to one side
the damage it does to the self-image of the blind who are still in
doubt of their own worth or, for that matter, what it would do to
any of us, whether blind or sighted especially, if the occurrence
is not isolated but part of an everyday pattern.

      This simple incident which seems so innocent and unimportant
is the very essence of our problem. It translates into
unemployment, lack of acceptance, low self-esteem, and second-class
citizenship. Is it all right (even praiseworthy) for other
Americans to insist on their rights but not all right for the blind
to do it? Are human dignity and freedom meant for everybody else in
this country but not for the blind? Is the American dream
exclusively the property of the sighted or is it meant for the
blind, too? I believe it is meant for all of us, and I think
Congress and the public think so, too. I believe that as you learn
the facts, you will not permit the airlines and the FAA to continue
what they are doing to the blind.

      Yes, we are talking about safety, but not the kind
contemplated by the FAA in its discriminatory rule. That is why we
are asking for your help. That is why we are asking you to pass
(and pass quickly) the Air Travel Rights for Blind Individuals Act.

      To Braille or Not to Braille

     The decade of the eighties found the organized blind facing a
new and complex issue one which brought the movement into conflict
and debate with some of the educators and teachers of blind
children. The issue was the use of Braille in the school
curriculum, particularly in connection with students having some
residual vision. On one side of the debate were those educators who
regarded Braille as generally obsolete and not competitive with
other reading methods; on the other side were some of the educators
and the majority of blind people who regarded Braille as the
essential means to literacy for blind persons.

     The intensity of the debate over the teaching of Braille
during this decade might seem puzzling to those unfamiliar with the
subject and without the personal associations of memory and
tradition which it calls up for many who are blind. As a preface to
more systematic examination of the issue, here is an
impressionistic narrative of one blind youth's encounter with the
world of Braille, books, and boarding schools. Written by Kenneth
Jernigan, the article appeared in the June-July, 1987, Braille
Monitor:

         OF BRAILLE AND MEMORIES AND THE MATILDA ZIEGLER
                       by Kenneth Jernigan

      When I was a boy growing up in Tennessee, Braille was hard to
come by. At the Tennessee School for the Blind (where I spent nine
months of each year) Braille was rationed. In the first grade we
were allowed to read a book only during certain hours of the day,
and we were not permitted to take books to our rooms at night or on
weekends. Looking back, I suppose the school didn't have many
books, and they probably thought (perhaps correctly) that those
they did have would be used more as missiles than instruments of
learning if they let us take them out. When we advanced to the
second grade, we were allowed (yes, allowed) to come down for
thirty minutes each night to study hall. This was what  big boys 
did. In the first grade we had been ignominiously sent to bed at
seven o'clock while our elders (the second and third graders and
those beyond) were permitted to go to that mysterious place called
study hall. The first graders (the  little boys ) had no such
status or privilege.

      When we got to the third grade, we were still not permitted
to take books to our rooms, but we were allowed to increase our
study hall time. We could actually spend a whole hour at it each
night Monday through Friday. It was the pinnacle of status for the
primary grades.

      When we got to the  intermediate  department (the fourth,
fifth, and sixth grades) we were really  growing up,  and our
status and prestige increased accordingly. We were allowed (I use
the word advisedly  allowed,  not  forced ) to go for an hour each
night Monday through Friday to study hall, and during that time we
could read books and magazines to our hearts' content. True, the
choice was not great but such as there was, we could read it. Of
course, we could not take books to our rooms during the week, but
on Friday night each boy (I presume the girls had the same
privilege) could take one Braille volume to his room for the
weekend.

      Before I go further, perhaps I had better explain that
comment about the girls. The girls sat on one side of the room, and
the boys sat on the other; and woe to the member of one sex who
tried to speak or write notes to a member of the other. Girls, like
Braille books, were difficult to get at and all the more desirable
for the imagining. But back to the main thread.

      As I say, each boy in the  intermediate  department could
check out one Braille volume on Friday night. Now, as every good
Braille reader knows, Braille is bulkier than print; and at least
four or five Braille volumes (sometimes more) are required to make
a book. It is also a matter of common knowledge that people in
general and boys in particular (yes, and maybe girls, too) are
constantly on the lookout to  beat the system.  What system? Any
system.

      So on Friday nights we boys formed what would today be called
a consortium. One of us would check out volume one of a book; the
next, volume two; the next, volume three; et cetera. With our
treasures hugged to our bosoms we would head to our rooms and begin
reading. If you got volume three (the middle of the book), that's
where you started. You would get to the beginning by and by.

      Now, girls and Braille books were not the only items that
were strictly regulated in the environment I am describing. The
hours of the day and night fell into the same category. Study hall
ended at 8:00, and you were expected to be in your room and in bed
by 9:40, the time when the  silence bell  rang. You were also
expected to be trying to go to sleep, not reading.

      But as I have said, people like to beat the system; and to us
boys, starved for reading during the week, the hours between Friday
night and Monday morning were not to be wasted. (Incidentally, I
should say here that there were usually no radios around and that
we were strictly forbidden on pain of expulsion, and God knows what
else to leave the campus except for a brief period on Saturday
afternoon after we got big enough, that is, and assuming we had no
violations on our record which required erasure by penalty.) In
other words the campus of the Tennessee School for the Blind was
what one might call a closed ecology. We found our entertainment
where we could.

      Well, back to Friday night and the problem of the books.
Rules are rules, but Braille can be read under the cover as well as
anywhere else; and when the lights are out and the sounds of
approaching footsteps are easy to detect, it is virtually
impossible to prohibit reading and make the prohibition stick. The
night watchman was regular in his rounds and methodical in his
movements. He came through the halls every sixty minutes on the
hour, and we could tell the time by his measured tread. (I suppose
I need not add that we had no clocks or watches.)

      After the watchman had left our vicinity, we would meet in
the bathroom (there was one for all twenty-six of us) and discuss
what we had been reading. We also used the occasion to keep
ourselves awake and exchange Braille volumes as we finished them.
It made for an interesting way to read a book, but we got there and
instead of feeling deprived or abused, we felt elated. We were
beating the system; we had books to read, something the little boys
didn't have; and we were engaged in joint clandestine activity.
Sometimes as the night advanced, one of us would go to sleep and
fail to keep the hourly rendezvous, but these were minor
aberrations and the weekend was only beginning.

      After breakfast on Saturday mornings most of us (not all)
would continue reading usually aloud in a group. We kept at it as
long as we could, nodding off when we couldn't take it any more.
Then, we went at it again. Let me be clear. I am talking about a
general pattern, not a rigid routine. It did not happen every
weekend, and even when it did, the pace was not uniform or the
schedule precise. We took time for such pleasantries as running,
playing, and occasional rock fights. We also engaged in certain
organized games, and as we grew older, we occasionally slipped off
campus at night and prowled the town. Nevertheless, the reading
pattern was a dominant theme.

      Time, of course, is inexorable; and the day inevitably came
when we outgrew the intermediate department and advanced to  high
school  seventh through twelfth grades. Again, it meant a change in
status a change in everything, of course, but especially reading.
Not only could we come to study hall for an hour each night Monday
through Friday and take a Braille volume to our room during
weekends, but we could also check out Braille books whenever we
liked, and (within reason) we could take as many as we wanted.

      Let me now go back once more to the early childhood years.
Before I was six, I had an isolated existence. My mother and
father, my older brother, and I lived on a farm about fifty miles
out of Nashville. We had no radio, no telephone, and no substantial
contact with anybody except our immediate neighbors. My father had
very little formal education, and my mother had left school just
prior to graduating from the eighth grade. Books were not an
important part of our family routine. Most of the time we did not
have a newspaper. There were two reasons: Our orientation was not
toward reading, and money was scarce. It was the early thirties.
Hogs (when we had any) brought two cents a pound; and anything else
we had to sell was priced proportionately.

      I did a lot of thinking in those preschool days, and every
time I could, I got somebody to read to me. Read what? Anything
anything I could get. I would nag and pester anybody I could find
to read me anything that was available the Bible, an agriculture
yearbook, a part of a newspaper, or the Sears Roebuck Catalog. It
didn't matter. Reading was magic. It opened up new worlds.

      I remember the joy a joy which almost amounted to reverence
and awe which I felt during those times I was allowed to visit an
aunt who had books in her home. It was from her daughter (my
cousin) that I first heard the fairy stories from The Book of
Knowledge, a treasure which many of today's children have
unfortunately missed. My cousin loved to read and was
long-suffering and kind, but I know that I tried her patience with
my insatiable appetite. It was not possible for me to get enough,
and I always dreaded going home, finding every excuse I could to
stay as long as my parents would let me. I loved my aunt; I was
fascinated by the radio she had; and I delighted in her superb
cooking but the key attraction was the reading. My aunt is long
since dead, and of course I never told her. For that matter, maybe
I never really sorted it out in my own mind, but there it was no
doubt about it.

      As I have already said, I started school at six and when I
say six, I mean six. As you might imagine, I wanted to go as soon
as I could, and I made no secret about it. I was six in November of
1932. However, school started in September, and six meant six. I
was not allowed to begin until the next quarter January of 1933.

      You can understand that after I had been in school for a few
weeks, I contemplated with mixed feelings the summer vacation which
would be coming. I loved my family, but I had been away from home
and found stimulation and new experiences. I did not look forward
to three months of renewed confinement in the four-room farm house
with nothing to do.

      Then, I learned that I was going to be sent a Braille
magazine during the summer months. Each month's issue was sixty
Braille pages. I would get one in June, one in July, and one in
August. What joy! I was six, but I had learned what boredom meant
and I had also learned to plan. So I rationed the Braille and read
two pages each day. This gave me something new for tomorrow. Of
course, I went back and read and re-read it again, but the two new
pages were always there for tomorrow.

      As the school years came and went I got other magazines,
learned about the Library of Congress Braille and talking book
collection, and got a talking book machine. By the time I was in
the seventh grade I was receiving a number of Braille magazines and
ordering books from three separate regional libraries during the
summer. Often I would read twenty hours a day not every day, of
course, but often. I read Gone With the Wind, War and Peace, Zane
Grey, Rafael Sabatini, James Oliver Curwood, and hundreds of
others. I read whatever the libraries sent me, every word of it;
and I often took notes. By then it was clear to me that books would
be my release from the prison of the farm and inactivity. It was
also clear to me that college was part of that program and that
somehow I was going to get there. But it was not just escape from
confinement or hope for a broader horizon or something to be
gained. It was also a deep, ingrained love of reading.

      The background I have described conditioned me. I did not
feel about reading the way I see most people viewing it today. Many
of today's children seem to have the attitude that they are 
forced,  not  permitted,  to go to school that they are  required, 
not  given the privilege and honor,  to study. They are inundated
with reading matter. It is not scarce but a veritable clutter, not
something to strive for but to take for granted. I don't want
children or the general public to be deprived of reading matter,
but I sometimes think that a scald is as bad as a freeze. Is it
worse to be deprived of books until you feel starved for them or to
be so overwhelmed with them that you become blas about it? I don't
know, and I don't know that it will do me any good to speculate.
All I know is that I not only delight in reading but believe it to
be a much neglected joy and a principal passport to success,
perspective, civilization, and possibly the survival of the
species. I am of that group which deplores the illiteracy which
characterizes much of our society and distinguishes many of its
would-be leaders and role models. I am extremely glad I have had
the opportunity and incentive to read as broadly as I have, and I
believe my life is so much better for the experience that it
borders on the difference between living and existence.

      It is interesting to contemplate how a particular train of
thought can be set in motion. The memories and reflections I have
been recounting were called to mind by a press release which
recently crossed my desk. I want to share it with you and then make
a few comments about it. Here it is:

      Free Magazine For Blind Completes 80 Years

      New York, March, 1987 With its March issue, The Matilda
Ziegler Magazine for the Blind completes eighty years as a free
general interest magazine for blind and visually impaired persons.
The Ziegler, as it is affectionately known by readers, was founded
in 1907 by Electa Matilda Ziegler, wealthy widow of William
Ziegler, founder of the Royal Baking Powder Company. The Ziegler
has no print edition its ten issues per year are in Braille and on
recorded flexible disc.

      Since one of the main difficulties faced by blind people is
lack of easy access to the thousands of print magazines and books
published every year, the Ziegler gives its readers an informative,
stimulating, and entertaining selection from these print materials.
It reprints articles from newspapers and magazines, and includes
short stories, poetry, and humor. While the Ziegler is not about
blindness, it does devote space to news and information of special
interest to people with vision problems. In  Reader's Forum, 
readers have an opportunity to  sound off  on any subject and to
discuss solutions to problems caused by lack of, or poor, sight.
The Ziegler's highly popular  Pen Pals  section enables blind and
visually impaired persons worldwide to get in touch.

      It was a highly improbable sequence of events that led to the
founding of the Ziegler. In 1906 Walter Holmes, a Tennessee
newspaperman, was on a business trip to New York City, when he came
across a newspaper description of a large bequest to charity.
Irritated by the fact that no money was left to benefit blind
people, he dashed off a note to the paper, pointing out how
desperately blind people needed books that they could read with
their fingers. Few books, he noted, were transcribed into a form
that could be read by touch, and those few were far too expensive.
The then popular Ben Hur, for example, cost only $1 in print, but
an embossed version cost all of $30!

      Walter Holmes' letter was published, and he received a
response from one E. M. Ziegler, who asked to meet him. E. M.
Ziegler turned out to be a woman, Electa Matilda Ziegler, and at
their meeting she agreed to pay for a magazine for the blind, if
Holmes would run it. To this serendipitous meeting the Ziegler
Magazine traces its origins. Why was Mrs. Ziegler so interested in
blind people? What was Mr. Holmes' interest? She had a blind son,
and he had a blind brother.

      True to her word, Mrs. Ziegler paid the expenses (some
$20,000 per year) from her own pocket until 1928, when she set up
an endowment. It is this carefully invested fund that has
underwritten the magazine ever since.

      The Ziegler's first issue in March, 1907, was greeted with
enormous enthusiasm by blind and sighted people alike. Blind and
deaf Helen Keller, then twenty-six years old, wrote to Mrs.
Ziegler,  I must send you my glad thanks for the pleasure and the
facilities which you have placed within our reach. I have waited
many years for such a magazine. 

      Mark Twain wrote:  I think this is one of the noblest
benefactions that has been conferred upon a worthy object by any
purse during the long stretch of my seventy-one years. 

      Eighty years later readers are still full of praise and
gratitude for the magazine. One old lady, who has been a reader
since that first issue, recently asked to have her subscription
changed from Braille to recorded disc since, at her advanced age,
she could no longer read Braille as quickly as she would like, but
she did not want to miss a single issue.

      To mark the completion of eighty years, the Ziegler asked its
readers to submit essays to a contest on the subject,  An
Unforgettable Journey.  First prize was won by a reader in
Jerusalem, Siranoosh A. Ketchejian, who described a 1909 journey as
a small girl from her home in Armenia to a school for blind
children in Jerusalem.

      The second prize went to Virginia A. Reagan of Rogersville,
Missouri. Her essay describes her continuing journey toward
independence despite total blindness and orthopedic problems that
oblige her to use a wheelchair. She points out, however, that her
biggest battles were with the discouraging attitudes of doctors and
others who believed she would never be capable of living
independently.

      James R. Stell of Glasgow, Kentucky, won third prize for his
vivid recollection of a journey he made to New York City thirty
years ago with the band of the Alabama School for the Blind. The
band played at an international Lions convention.

      By printing this press release I do not mean to imply that
the Matilda Ziegler Magazine is (or ever was) the greatest thing
since sliced bread or even that I think it is unusually well done.
I have not read or even seen a copy of it for years, and I have
often heard it snidely called the  Lydia Pinkham  magazine an
epithet which may elude some of the members of the younger
generation. Be that as it may, the Ziegler was one of those early
Braille magazines that I had the opportunity to get my hands on
when I was searching for anything that I could find to read. Along
with the Search Light, the Weekly, the Children's Friend,
Discovery, the Reader's Digest, and a host of other Braille
magazines, it provided me with both pleasure and information at a
time when I most urgently needed them and it was one of the first.
I must confess that the Ziegler was not my favorite, but I read it
and I am not putting it down.

      It was one of the early Braille magazines, which was freely
made available to anybody who requested it, and I am sure that
through the years it has brought countless hours of pleasure to a
great many people. Because of the progress of the National Library
Service for the Blind and Physically Handicapped, the advent of the
computer, the Braille and recorded magazines now available, the
number of volunteer transcribers who are willing to produce
material, and the accumulation of Braille and recorded books
scattered throughout the country, the blind children and adults of
today will hopefully never have to repeat the experiences I have
described. Yet, the hunger for Braille, the isolation and
loneliness, and the early magazines like the Ziegler are an
important part of our heritage as blind people a heritage we should
not forget and from which we should continue to profit and learn.

     The explosive growth of new procedures and technology, notably
in the area of communication skills, caused the Braille Monitor to
devote an entire issue (May, 1982) to the subject of Braille and
its alternatives. The lead article was a comprehensive summary and
assessment by the NFB's President, which explained much of the
controversy and raised many of the issues which were to gain
attention during the decade:

      BRAILLE: CHANGING ATTITUDES, CHANGING TECHNOLOGY
                       by Kenneth Jernigan

      On rare occasions we devote an entire issue of the Monitor to
a single topic. That is what we are doing in the present instance.
The topic is Braille. Braille is so central in the lives of the
blind and so much is happening in the way of new attitudes and new
technology that an overview is needed a bringing together of facts,
an attempt at perspective.

      Before the time of Louis Braille, blind persons had very
little opportunity to read at all. Of course, because of the low
literacy rate, many of the sighted were in the same boat.
Nevertheless, the blind were at a distinct disadvantage. Through
the years there had been attempts to develop this or that sort of
tactile system, but it was Louis Braille who made the breakthrough
in 1825.

      However, his invention was only a beginning. Throughout the
remainder of the nineteenth century Braille was the center of
controversy and opposing views. Different systems and
configurations of dots to form the alphabet coexisted side by side,
and each had its advocates. The disputes continued into the
twentieth century, and, for that matter, are still taking place.
Even now, the Braille Authority of North America is debating new
rules and contemplating changes.

      When I entered the Tennessee School for the Blind as a boy of
six in the early 1930s, I was exposed to New York Point, American
Braille, Grade One, Grade One and One-Half, Grade Two, Moon Type,
and some sort of unfathomable raised print, the name of which I
either never heard or soon forgot. I hasten to add that nobody even
attempted to teach me all of these various systems. I was merely
exposed to them and told of their numerous virtues or shortcomings
by whichever advocate happened to be speaking at the moment. In the
first grade I was taught (or, at least, an attempt was made in that
direction) both to read and write Grade One Braille. The writing
was done on a board slate, and I have always been glad that I
learned the use of the slate before being introduced to the
Brailler (the equivalent of a typewriter). Incidentally, although
I can now read Braille with perfect ease at several hundred words
a minute and can write it with speed and accuracy on slate or
Brailler, I flunked both Braille reading and Braille writing in the
first grade, necessitating going through the first grade again the
following year. Yes, it was a different world.

      As I progressed through high school and college, I became
acquainted with the British system of writing Braille, which had a
number of differences from what I was accustomed to. For instance,
the first time I realized that the British used the letters JC for
Jesus Christ, I thought it a bit familiar and not at all in keeping
with what my history books had taught me about the conservative and
stodgy nature of the inhabitants of that part of the world.

      Even so, by the early 1940s everybody who could read Braille
very well at all could get along with almost anything that was
floating around. New York Point was not being produced anymore, and
American Braille was about in the same situation. Moon Type (which
was a series of curved lines invented by an Englishman named Dr.
Moon for the purpose of making it easier for older blind persons to
read) was almost nonexistent, a few volumes being kept at most of
the residential schools for the blind as conversation pieces and to
impress visitors.

      In the early 1940s most blind children went to residential
schools, and Braille was pretty much the standard medium for
teaching. Large print (or sightsaving material a term with curious
connotations since it does nothing of the sort) was discussed now
and again, but mostly it was still waiting in the wings. Students
who were blind enough to go to the residential school but who had
some remaining eyesight ( partials  they were called and some of
them were quite high  partials ) learned to read Braille with their
eyes, and they stubbornly and persistently took every opportunity
to do it despite the scoldings and objections of their teachers. In
fact, there was quite an art to the rapid reading of Braille
visually. As I understand it, the dots were not read directly.
Instead, the page was so held that the dots cast shadows, and these
were read. Be that as it may, a constant state of war always seemed
to exist between the teachers and the  partials,  doubtless honing
wits of both groups and building character into the bargain. The
teachers developed a large cloth apron-type affair (known as a 
blindfold,  which it wasn't) and insisted that the partials wear it
while reading or writing Braille. A loop fitted over the neck and
the cloth  blindfold  was draped over the Braille material. The
student was expected to put his or her hands underneath the cloth
and do the reading or writing. The  partials  countered by trying
to hold the top of the  blindfold  away from the body and peeking
under it. Of course, when the teacher's back was turned, the 
blindfold  was pushed aside altogether.

      In some of the schools the teachers stepped up the warfare by
turning off all of the lights in the night study hall sessions
leaving sighted teachers (most of them were sighted at that time), 
partials,  and the totally blind all in the dark together. Of
course, in such a situation the totally blind were at a
considerable advantage, and the sighted teachers (having usually
learned very few if any of the techniques of blindness) labored
under a severe handicap. The  partials  were somewhere between,
depending on how well they had learned to function as blind people.

      I was called on to supervise such a night study hall in the
late forties and early fifties when I was a teacher of English at
the Tennessee School for the Blind, and the maintenance of
discipline posed unique problems. It takes a bit of practice and
skill to follow the trajectory of a thrown object back to its point
of origin, but the science can be mastered not to mention which the
teacher tends to have certain inherent advantages in such warfare.
At least, such was the case in the climate of discipline and
practice which prevailed at that particular time in our history.
Let me simply say that the outcome was not always certain and that
the situation was turbulent, but it provided a certain amount of
stimulation and was both challenging and do-able.

      In the meantime another element was beginning to come into
play, one that would have a far-reaching impact on the future of
Braille. In the 1930s the talking book machine began to be
increasingly available and popular. At first its impact on the
teaching of Braille (especially, in the residential schools and
that is where most of the teaching was done) was minimal. Because
of the politics of the federal legislation authorizing library
services for the blind, talking books, which were a principal
component of the library services, were not supposed to be
available to children. The talking book machines and records were
not used in most of the residential schools until after the
mid-forties and even then at a very slowly accelerating pace.

      In view of the fact that blind adults (people somewhere in
the neighborhood of sixteen or thereabouts) were entitled to borrow
from the libraries around the country; in view of the fact that the
definition of the word  adult,  as well as the way of figuring
one's age can be variously interpreted, depending upon the
exigencies of the situation; and in view of the further fact that
many of the libraries were in states far removed from their
borrowers and could do little to test the veracity of the
information provided to them by those borrowers, talking book
machines and records began to make their appearance in the schools
with increasing frequency.

      However, they were not generally used in the classrooms or
the school study halls but in the bedrooms of the students and in
their homes during vacations. The early talking book machines were
heavy and cumbersome, and the records would only play about fifteen
minutes to the side. War and Peace, for instance, came in eight
large containers comprising 160 records, and Gone With The Wind was
on 80 records. Nevertheless, the quality of the reading was
excellent, and one could do other things with the hands while
listening. Before the advent of the talking book, Braille was the
only  game in town.  If you were blind and if you wanted to read,
you learned Braille, but now there was an alternative.

      When the wave of retrolental fibroplasia spread throughout
the population in the forties and fifties, leaving thousands of
children blind, the residential schools could not have handled
(even if they had wanted to) the massive influx of students. Before
retrolental fibroplasia, most state residential schools for the
blind had somewhere between one hundred and two hundred students.
Now, in the late forties and fifties, the number of blind children
needing education was several times that much in many of the
states. There were not enough trained teachers to meet the need,
and the American Foundation for the Blind got into the act, helping
promote teacher-training courses in a number of colleges and
universities. Many felt that the American Foundation added a
negative element to the problem by its constant discussion of which
was the better setting for educating the blind child, the
residential school or the local public school. Of course, the
debate was largely meaningless since the residential schools could
not possibly have met all of the need and since many of the local
public schools were also unable to do an adequate and meaningful
job. Be this as it may, the American Foundation filled a gap which
no one else was prepared to fill and, thereby, performed a positive
service. The philosophy was usually not the best, and there were
often power plays; but the alternative to the American Foundation's
stepping into the breach would undoubtedly have been that many
blind children who got at least a fair degree of education would
likely have had none at all.

      In the pre-retrolental fibroplasia days, when the great
majority of blind children and most of the newly blind adults who
received instruction in Braille got it in the residential schools,
classes were relatively small, and a good deal of individual
attention could be given. Moreover, most (not all but most) of the
Braille teachers were really expert at Braille. They knew Braille,
and they could read and write it.

      With the new wave of blind children coming into the schools,
there were bound to be changes and not only changes but also a loss
of quality in certain areas the kind of thing which always
characterizes  crash programs.  Many of the new teachers were not
expert in Braille, and they were not as sure of its centrality and
necessity as their predecessors had been.

      The talking book machines were now lighter and smaller than
they had been, and the records were beginning to be lighter and
longer playing. As compared with the heavy thirty-three and
one-third rpm, fifteen minutes to the side, disc of the 1930s, for
instance, today's talking book record is a paper thin, lightweight,
floppy disc, which runs at eight and one-third rpm and plays an
hour to the side. Other things have also come to compete with
Braille. First came the open reel tape, and today it is the
cassette. The cassette player and the books recorded on cassette
are much more portable and easier to get from place to place than
Braille. In the schools today talking books and cassettes are often
used early on, and this necessarily means less reliance on Braille.

      Then, there is the matter of large print (the  sightsaving 
material of old) and various electronic and manually operated
magnification systems for blind children who have some remaining
residual vision. This is not merely a matter of new facts and
techniques but often of philosophy as well. I have sometimes told
the story of going into a classroom and having a teacher say to me
in the presence of two young children, one totally blind and one
with some remaining vision,  This little girl can read print. This
little girl has to read Braille.  Of course, the words  can  and 
has to  were the key to the matter. Undoubtedly without consciously
knowing that she was doing it or meaning to do it, the teacher was 
putting down  Braille and making it less attractive and pleasant to
read. She may have been helping to cause the totally blind child to
be a poor Braille reader, or virtually a non-Braille reader. She
was teaching both children that it is not respectable to be blind
and that, if you are blind, you cannot expect to compete on terms
of equality. After all, the girl with some residual vision had only
about ten percent of her eyesight, and if you are capable in
proportion to your ability to see, ten percent of a person is not
much.

      This is not to say that some of the magnification devices and
other visual aids have not been of help to those with residual
vision, for they have. Rather, it is to make the obvious point that
such devices have led (at least, to some degree) to a de-emphasis
of Braille. If visual aids are seen in context and used with
reason, they can be positive (whether for children or adults), but
if their use is pushed to the extreme (as has been the case in some
of the schools and adult training programs), the results can be
very nearly disasters. For example, I know a number of people who
wanted to learn Braille when they were children in school and were
not permitted to do it, being told that the  normal  thing to do
was to read print and use their remaining vision. They were
compelled to do this despite the fact that their prognosis was for
continuing deterioration of sight and despite the fact that their
vision was so poor that they could not read print (even large
print) with comfort and fluency. Many of those people are now
totally blind, and no small number of them deeply resent the way
they were treated. They are either poor Braille readers or have had
to expend a great deal of time and effort to learn the skills they
could easily have been taught in school.

      There are other developments which have impacted upon Braille
the thermoform machine, for instance. When it was announced, the
thermoform seemed such a positive thing. It allowed an individual
to take a regular sheet of Braille, place it on a platform, and
draw a piece of heated, thin plastic down over it to reproduce the
Braille dots. It was a veritable copy machine for the blind. It
made it possible to duplicate single copies of individual Braille
paper, or for that matter, short-run multiple copies. If it had
been used for program agendas, throw away information, or making
copies of Braille letters in other words if it had been used as
print copy machines are used, it would have been an unmixed
blessing. It would have strengthened the use of Braille.

      But such was not to be the case. Over the years a great many
books have been hand-transcribed by sighted volunteers. More and
more, with the advent of the thermoform machine, the original paper
Braille copy of the book has been kept on file by the transcribing
group or the library as a  master,  and thermoform duplicates have
been sent out to fill requests. In my opinion (and that opinion is
shared by most Braille readers with whom I talk) this has done a
great deal to discourage the use of Braille.

      For my part I find prolonged reading of thermoform extremely
unpleasant. The plastic sheets tend to stick to the hands, and the
fingers tend to be irritated after a time. Moreover, I cannot read
thermoform nearly as rapidly as I can read Braille produced on
paper. Certainly I cannot read it as pleasantly.

      I suspect that if print were so produced that it hurt the
eyes of sighted people who read it, far less reading would be done
by the sighted than is the case today. I further suggest that the
alternative to print (television) would assuming that such is
possible be even more popular than it is today. This is not to
blame anyone, nor is it to shrug off the problems (economic and
otherwise). It is simply to state facts as I see them and to hope
that we can find solutions.

      The last few years have brought still other developments in
technology. There is the Kurzweil Reading Machine, which scans a
print page and translates it into spoken words. This machine has
achieved some positive results, but it still has a ways to go to
fulfill the initial hopes which people had for it. It is too costly
for the individual blind person to afford; it still has certain
technical problems; it is not easily portable; and it is not clear
whether enough capital will continue to be put into its development
to make it an ongoing major factor in the total mix of reading for
the blind.

      Then, there is the Optacon a scanning system which translates
what the camera sees on the printed page into a pattern of
vibrating, closely packed reeds which can be felt with one finger.
Again, there have been certain positive results with the Optacon,
but there are also severe limitations and when exaggerated claims
are made concerning its usefulness and performance, the minuses
quickly outstrip the plusses. By and large, reading with the
Optacon is quite slow, and a great deal of training is required for
its skillful use. Moreover, expense is again a factor, but not as
much as in the case of the Kurzweil machine.

      By no means all (but a great deal) of the Braille produced in
this country is purchased through the program of the National
Library Service for the Blind and Physically Handicapped of the
Library of Congress (NLS). The same is true of recorded and other
reading material available to the blind. Thus, NLS has a major
voice in determining what kind of reading material will be
available to the blind, and in what form that reading material will
be.

      In the early days of the library program the service was
limited to the blind, and Braille received a major emphasis
(incidentally, the restriction against serving blind children has,
to the satisfaction of everybody, long since been abolished). In
the 1960s pressure began to be brought to open up the library
service for the blind to other physically handicapped groups. The
NLS was not opposed to this because it would broaden its mission
and, presumably, strengthen its power base. Further, since the
other groups of the handicapped have never been as strongly
organized as the blind, it would presumably water down the
political impact on policy matters by making us a smaller part of
the total constituency. To say that these political considerations
undoubtedly figured in the Library's policy decision is not to say
that the Library may not also have felt that the other groups
needed service and that NLS could fill that need.

      When the legislation to add other groups to the library
service was introduced, we opposed. We said that we favored
providing library service to the other groups but that we felt it
should be done through another division of the Library of Congress.
We said that since these groups did not use Braille, their
inclusion would mean a proportionately smaller amount of resources
devoted to the production of Braille. We further expressed concerns
that all phases of service to the blind would suffer by adding the
larger constituency as opposed to establishing for it a separate
program. Nevertheless, when the legislation was introduced into the
next session of Congress, we agreed to its passage provided
safeguards could be established and assurances could be given that
our concerns could be satisfied.

      Within recent years there has seemed to come a recognition
that Braille must again receive an increased emphasis. Valuable as
the other means of communication may be, there are certain areas in
which there is simply no substitute for Braille for the blind
person. Taking notes and writing can be done more efficiently in
Braille than by recording assuming, of course, that the person
using the Braille is skilled. Intensive study is more easily done
by Braille than from a recording, and there is no adequate
substitute for Braille in delivering a public speech, verbatim or
from notes. There is also the pleasure of reading aloud to others
or to oneself, but this admittedly gets into the realm of the
subjective. However, it is highly doubtful whether the majority of
the sighted population would consider for a moment giving up all
print in favor of recorded material or, even for that matter,
television.

      As we move into this present decade, there are several
hopeful signs. In the first place let it be said that the NLS and
all other groups involved with the blind would like (if a feasible
way can be found to do it) to have plentiful and readily available
Braille at low cost for the blind. The question is how to do it.
Some of the recent developments in the production of Braille by
computer are extremely hopeful and could serve as the subject for
an entire article themselves. There is increasing hope that the
computer can provide breakthroughs which will make possible a
greatly increased quantity of Braille at a much reduced cost.

      However, unless those of us in the field recognize the
importance of Braille and train people to read it and rely on it,
it will become a dying skill regardless of its cheapness or
availability. Furthermore, unless we make Braille available in a
form and in a texture which allows for rapid and pleasant reading,
its use will diminish. Braille is one of the most useful tools
which the blind have, and we must extract from it its maximum
potential.

      This brings me to one of the most revolutionary concepts in
the production, cost, portability, and usability of Braille which
has ever been contemplated. I refer to what has been called 
cassette  or  paperless  Braille. The idea is that a large quantity
of Braille could be stored on a very small cassette and could be
displayed through small pins that could be raised to form the
Braille dots. There are several such machines in the offing, and
the National Library Service is considering purchasing one of them
or a hybrid of the best features of as many of them as it can put
together. If the effort is successful, NLS would probably look
toward eventually replacing regular Braille volumes in its
collection with the cassette-Braille machines. I have personally
examined two of these machines an earlier model of the Elinfa and
TSI's Versabrailler. I have not examined the Rose Reader, but if it
can do what its inventors claim, it may hold the key to the future.
Of course, the  if  must be kept in mind. The problem with the
Elinfa and the Versabrailler is that they display only one line at
a time and not a very long line at that. I think this would mean
that the fast Braille reader would be slowed down, but we will have
to see. When I tried the Versabrailler (and I must emphasize that
I only used it for a few minutes on one occasion), I could read
Braille on it very nearly as fast as I could talk. However, I can
read ordinary Braille on a regular paper page much more rapidly
than that. Of course, I do not know what I could do if I spent time
training on the Versabrailler, but since I use both hands and read
on two lines at once in reading ordinary Braille, common sense
tells me that if I have access to only one short line at the time
I will necessarily be slowed down.

      When I tried the Elinfa, I thought it was totally worthless.
However, I cannot emphasize too strongly that I saw it only once,
that it was an early model, and that it probably still had bugs to
be worked out of it. Since it displays only a single short line at
the time, some of my comments about the Versabrailler would also be
applicable.

      As I have said, I have not examined the Rose Reader, but its
inventor claims that it will display an entire Braille page at
once. I should think that this would be a tremendous advantage.

      The National Library Service has recently been making tests
involving cassette Braille. It has also found itself in a
controversy with some of the manufacturers of the machines
particularly with Mr. Leonard Rose, one of the inventors of the
Rose Reader. 

     Five years after the publication of that article, the
controversy surrounding the teaching of Braille had heated up
around the country and particularly, in the National Federation's 
home  state of Maryland. There, on many occasions, leaders of the
organized blind, such as Kenneth Jernigan and Mary Ellen Reihing
(at that time, president of the Baltimore Chapter of the National
Federation of the Blind) found themselves engaging in debate or
contentious correspondence with Dr. Richard Welsh, Superintendent
of the Maryland School for the Blind. Two such episodes, typical of
many others, were discussed by Jernigan in what might be described
as a delicious commentary, entitled  A Taste of Rarebit,  published
in the Braille Monitor in August, 1987. The essay follows:

                       A TASTE OF RAREBIT
                       by Kenneth Jernigan

      Before I came to Maryland in 1978, I had never had the
pleasure of meeting Dr. Richard Welsh, the Superintendent of the
Maryland School for the Blind. That deficiency in my social
experience has now been remedied, for on more than one occasion
during the past nine years Dr. Welsh and I have occupied the same
platform, sat in the same room at meetings, and shared with one
another such wisdom as each of us possessed.

      Last fall at the convention of the National Federation of the
Blind of Maryland Dr. Welsh was a speaker. He did not come
willingly or with good temper but only after a number of contacts
had been made with members of his board to suggest that it was
inappropriate for the superintendent of the state school for the
blind to refuse to attend. After all, the NFB of Maryland is the
largest organization of blind people in the state, and the School
has (or should have) a certain degree of accountability.

      Dr. Welsh's segment of the agenda was not characterized by
placidity. In fact, one might call it tempestuous. He said, among
other things, that it might be a bad thing for a growing child to
try to learn both print and Braille since it might slow both
processes. I got the impression that he was saying that a child had
a certain amount of reading capacity and that if you split it
between print and Braille, you would probably come out with around
fifty percent efficiency in each. It was certainly a novel theory,
but novelty was about all that it had to recommend it.

      When some of us pointed out to him that children sometimes
learn two languages simultaneously and seem to have increased
proficiency in each because of the experience of having learned the
other, he only answered with emotion instead of logic. He seemed to
feel that Braille was vastly inferior to print and that a child
should, if possible, read print at all costs, even if Braille would
be faster and more efficient. I got the definite impression that
Dr. Welsh felt that print was  normal  and that Braille was
subnormal.

      He said that if a family really felt that their child should
learn Braille, that this should be taken into consideration, but it
was made very clear that the School would discourage it. He also
made a great point of the fact that all children are different and
that they should not be treated alike or fitted into a rigid mold.
It sounds good, but what does it mean? To Dr. Welsh it meant that
blind children should not be (as he put it) pressured or forced to
learn Braille. We asked him whether sighted children should be put
into a rigid mold and forced to learn print. He thought this was
different. It is  normal  to read print.

      In the circumstances it is not surprising that Dr. Welsh did
not believe that teachers of blind children (even those who teach
reading) should be required to have proficiency in Braille. We
asked him whether a teacher of French should be required to know
French. He thought this was not relevant. We asked him whether a
teacher of math should be required to know math. He didn't think
that was relevant either. Certain legislators who were present
thought it was extremely relevant. Dr. Welsh was not happy.
Federationists are troublemakers. They are militant, too.

      Not surprisingly, a bill was introduced into the Maryland
legislature early this year to require that Braille be made
available to every blind and severely visually impaired child in
the state. Also not surprisingly, the special education teachers
and Dr. Welsh (some of the very people who certainly should and
often don't know Braille) came out in force to oppose the bill. Dr.
Welsh's performance was not only in poor taste but also possibly
even worse than that. He brought small children and their parents
to the legislature to talk about how terrible it would be if they
were forced into the rigid mold. It was enough to make one cry, and
a number of people did some for one reason, and some for another.
Temporarily Dr. Welsh got his way. For another year blind children
in Maryland will not be  forced  to learn to read. They will avoid
the evils of literacy. But the battle is only beginning.

      Under date of April 15, 1987, a letter from Mary Ellen
Reihing, president of the Baltimore Chapter of the National
Federation of the Blind of Maryland, appeared in the Baltimore Sun:

      Literacy Crisis for the Blind

      Editor: A whole generation of blind children in Maryland is
in grave danger of becoming functionally illiterate. Special
education teachers certified to teach blind children, both at the
School for the Blind and in public school programs, are
discouraging their students from learning Braille. Of the 120
children in academic programs at the Maryland School for the Blind,
the school reports that only 33 are learning Braille.

      Why? Poor teacher training programs account for part of the
problem. It is possible to become certified to teach blind students
in Maryland without being able to read Braille fluently. Volunteer
Braille transcribers, who often do not have college degrees and are
not accorded  professional  status, must demonstrate a knowledge of
Braille to be certified which is greater than that required of a
teacher of the visually impaired seeking a master's degree.

      The root of the literacy crisis for blind children goes
beyond the poor quality of teacher preparation. At its heart is the
notion that the techniques used by blind people are inferior to
those used by the sighted. It is  normal  to read print. It is 
abnormal  to read Braille. Therefore, a blind child with residual
vision, no matter how poor that vision may be, is taught to read
print even when Braille would be more efficient.

      Joe can see well out of the corner of his eye, but he can't
focus on any detail work. He can't read the banner headlines in a
newspaper. If he uses a closed circuit television system, he can
read print that is so enlarged that four or five letters will fit
on a twelve-inch television screen. Since he has not learned
Braille, he has no way to read any of the notes he has written
until he can return home to use his closed circuit television.

      Jane was born with cataracts which were removed when she was
a baby. She also had a condition that caused her eyes to jump
uncontrollably. Focusing caused her pain, but she could read
regular print very effectively for about ten minutes. If she tried
to read longer, tears rolled down her face, and she was unable to
focus on anything at all for several hours. Her teachers told her
she was being lazy when she said that she couldn't read any more.
As she got older, and reading demands increased, she fell farther
and farther behind. Jane became convinced that she was stupid and
dropped out of high school. Jane has come to understand that her
reading problems are visual, not mental. Even so her attitudes
about reading are fixed. Though she could read books that have been
recorded on tape, she structured her life to avoid books in any
form.

      Lynn read large print when she was a child. She had friends
who were totally blind, and she wanted to learn Braille so she
could write letters to them, but her teachers refused to help her
learn it. In fact, they punished her for trying to read Braille
because she wasn't  blind.  Shortly after she graduated from high
school, Lynn lost the rest of her vision. She had to quit her job
as a secretary to learn Braille. Fortunately for Lynn, she was able
to find another secretarial job after her training. If she had
known Braille from the beginning, she would not have had to
interrupt her career.

      Expense has been given as a reason for denying literacy to
blind children. No one is suggesting that regular classroom
teachers become proficient in Braille. The only teachers who would
be involved are the special education instructors who are already
supposed to be fluent in Braille. The Library of Congress offers a
free course to anyone who wants to learn Braille transcription.
Those who talk about expense should think about the life-long cost
of illiteracy and noncompetitive functioning for blind people.

      Administrators say that many blind students at the Maryland
School for the Blind see too well to need Braille. One is left to
wonder what such students are doing in a specialized program for
blind children if they really do not need any of the techniques of
blindness. Perhaps the real problem is that those charged with the
responsibility of teaching our blind children really do not believe
that blindness is respectable.

      Mary Ellen Reihing, Baltimore.

      Under date of April 25, 1987, Dr. Welsh replied. He said that
it was perfectly proper for blind children in Maryland not to know
Braille since blind children in the rest of the country don't know
it either. If only fifteen percent of the blind youngsters in the
country can read Braille, Maryland's thirteen percent is only two
percentage points worse. In other words illiteracy is all right if
you can just prove that other people are almost as uneducated as
you are. One has to wonder if Dr. Welsh really understands the
implications of what he is saying.

      He went on to say that some ninety-five percent of the
students at his school had other handicaps besides blindness, from
which one was presumably meant to reason that it is all right to
push a multiply handicapped child toward reading print but not all
right to push him or her toward reading Braille. Besides, the
argument about multiple handicaps is always trotted out by anybody
and everybody with a weak case the sheltered workshops, which don't
want to pay decent wages; the airlines, which don't want to let
blind persons sit in exit rows; the schools, which don't want to
teach Braille.

      Next Dr. Welsh said that current state and federal laws
require that the program for a handicapped child's education must
be based on an assessment of that particular child's individual
needs and abilities. He jumped from this to the conclusion that
blind children need not be taught Braille. He then threw in a few
words about his rigid mold and topped it off with some comments
about how bad it was that the schools of twenty years ago taught
visually impaired students under blindfold. Twenty years ago is
always bad. Blindfolds are bad. By implication, Braille is bad.

      In the rest of his letter Dr. Welsh talks about the damage
which was done to the blind children of a generation ago who were
forced to learn Braille. I know a great many of those people, and
my observation contradicts Dr. Welsh's theories. I believe the
people to whom he refers were neither educationally nor
psychologically damaged by being taught Braille. Dr. Welsh says: 
Respect for blind people begins with the recognition that each
blind person is an individual, and each should be treated as such. 

       Bravo!  one cries. But what does this have to do with
learning to read? I favor the flag and the Bill of Rights. Does
this mean that sighted children should not be taught to read print?
I have always thought that freedom and literacy went hand in hand,
that liberty and education were almost synonymous. Apparently Dr.
Welsh thinks otherwise. But let him speak for himself. Here is his
letter:

      Braille Isn't For All Sight-Impaired Kids

      Editor: On April 15 you published a letter from Mary Ellen
Reihing, President of the local chapter of the National Federation
of the Blind, which pointed out that most visually impaired
students in Maryland do not use Braille. The writer concluded that
the reasons for this are that teachers are poorly trained, that it
is too expensive to teach Braille and that administrators do not
believe that blindness is  respectable ; therefore, the techniques
used by blind people are considered to be inferior, and are not
taught.

      The 1986 report of the American Printing House for the Blind
indicates that only fifteen percent of all visually impaired
children in the United States use Braille. This is very close to
the thirteen percent of the students at the Maryland School for the
Blind who use Braille. But the reasons for these facts are very
different than those suggested by Ms. Reihing.

      First, ninety-five percent of the children who attend the
Maryland School for the Blind have additional handicaps to their
visual impairment. Forty percent have severe and profound
developmental disabilities which make them incapable of reading,
regardless of the medium they are using. Many have orthopedic or
neurological impairments which make it impossible to read Braille.
Most have some degree of usable vision which they can use
efficiently to read print.

      We have many teachers who are proficient in reading and
teaching Braille, and we capably provide this instruction when it
is needed. We also teach other special techniques and adaptations
which are used by blind people, not only for academic learning but
also for independent mobility, vocational training, daily living
skills and leisure activities.

      Current state and federal laws require the educational
program provided each handicapped child to be based on an
assessment of that child's needs and abilities and to be approved
by the child's parents. This is an improvement over past
educational practices, which were influenced by general theories
about what was best for all children in a particular category,
regardless of the needs of the individual child. Fortunately, most
schools do not operate that way anymore.

      Thirty years ago, it was the general belief that all visually
impaired children should learn Braille, whether they needed it or
not. Children who had enough vision to learn to read print were
blindfolded and forced to read Braille with their fingers.

      The vast majority of these children never used Braille again
in any functional way, and many had to teach themselves how to read
print after they left school. It is the position of the Maryland
School for the Blind and most educators that, in general, if a
child has the cognitive ability required for reading and is able to
recognize print symbols, then strong consideration is given to
print as the reading medium for that child. Print is the more
common communication system used in the community, and more
information is available in print than in any other medium.

      If a child is unable to use print as an efficient reading
medium then Braille, along with auditory and/or multiple media, is
considered as a possible reading and learning mode. In some cases,
a child whose primary medium is either print or Braille may also be
taught to read in one or more of the other media, when that child's
visual prognosis or personal interest suggests that learning to
read in multiple media may be of value. This is particularly true
when the child is clearly going to lose all useful vision.

      During each of the last two legislative sessions, the
National Federation of the Blind has requested that legislation be
introduced which would change state law to reflect their philosophy
on the use of Braille. Both times, the responses of visually
impaired students and their parents, blind adults and educators who
are trained in this specialty have led to the defeat of this
proposed legislation.

      We cannot return to the practice of treating all people in a
given category as if they are the same. We do not educate children
without handicaps in this manner, and we should not allow it for
handicapped children. Respect for blind people begins with the
recognition that each blind person is an individual, and each
should be treated as such.

      Richard L. Welsh, Baltimore.

      As one reads Dr. Welsh's letter, various emotions compete for
ascendancy. Perhaps the only appropriate response is a piece of
doggerel: A kiss is dry without a squeeze; So is a rarebit without
some cheese.

     One of the most instructive and authoritative articles yet to
appear on the educational role of Braille was published in the
Braille Monitor in August, 1988, under the title  Braille:
Pedagogy, Prejudice, and the Banner of Equality.  The author was
Fred Schroeder, president of the National Association of Blind
Educators, and a member of the Board of Directors of the National
Federation of the Blind. Schroeder, who had been an elementary
schoolteacher and later an orientation and mobility instructor, was
also formerly the coordinator of Low Incidence Programs for the
Albuquerque Public Schools. His article, which combines first-hand
experience with professional expertise, was given as a paper in
Toronto, Canada, on June 1, 1988, at a conference sponsored by the
Canadian National Institute for the Blind, the theme of which was 
Braille: Future Directions.  Schroeder became Director of the New
Mexico Commission for the Blind in July of 1986:

    BRAILLE: PEDAGOGY, PREJUDICE, AND THE BANNER OF EQUALITY
                        by Fred Schroeder

      When speaking generally about Braille, it can be said without
controversy that Braille represents the means to literacy for the
blind. On its face it seems self-evident that for the blind to be
literate we must have a tactile method of reading and writing. As
with most truths that appear self-evident, our particular beliefs
and attitudes color our perception and affect the way in which our
beliefs are put into action. Although we flatter ourselves with the
belief that we are rational beings, we cannot ignore the impact of
prejudice on our behavior. For this reason a discussion of Braille
must necessarily encompass a discussion of societal beliefs about
blindness, as well as our own beliefs as blind people about
blindness.

      When I was seven years old, I lost the majority of my
eyesight. While not totally blind, I was no longer able to function
competitively using my sight. At that time in my life I did not
regard myself as a blind person and if asked would have fiercely
resisted viewing myself as blind. The intensity of my aversion to
thinking of myself as blind was directly tied to my fear of
blindness. While recognizing that I was no longer fully sighted, I
would not think of myself as a blind person since for me blindness
conjured up images of hopelessness and helplessness. I did not know
what had shaped my beliefs up to that time, but looking back I can
identify many of the events which helped strengthen my negative
beliefs about blindness. I was one of four children, and as in most
families various household chores were divided up among us. While
never explicitly stated, the chores I was assigned were those in
which my poor vision would cause me the least difficulty. Both my
family and I assumed that the tasks around the house routinely
involving sight necessarily required sight and, therefore, none of
us sought alternative methods for me to do other jobs. Rather than
promoting confidence by giving me a belief that I could contribute,
this practice led me to the conclusion that I could function
competitively only by means of my remaining vision. When I returned
to school, the same pattern continued. If I could not see well
enough to do a particular thing, I was either excused from the
assignment or paired off with a partner who generally did the
majority of the work. Whichever way it went, the belief persisted
that to see was to be competent and not to see was to be
incompetent.

      During the time I grew up, it was believed that the more a
person used his or her remaining eyesight the sooner it would
deteriorate. For this reason I was not encouraged to use print for
fear that it would cause a further decrease in my vision. Since I
was not using print, there seemed little need to teach me to spell.
As you can imagine, the effect on my academic training of not
reading was widespread and damaging. My mother, realizing that I
would not be using print and recognizing the need for me to become
literate, arranged for me to receive instruction in Braille. It was
at this point that my beliefs about blindness began to surface in
a tangible way. I resisted learning Braille and applied great
quantities of effort to insuring that I would never learn it. I
would read dots with my remaining sight and not by touch. I would
refuse to practice between lessons, hide my book before lessons,
and in every way possible avoid contact with Braille. I would argue
with my mother that I did not need to know Braille since more and
more material was being recorded on tape. In short, my beliefs
about blindness were governing my attitude toward Braille. By not
wanting to think of myself as a blind person, I resisted learning
the skills I needed to function competitively. My fear of being
less capable prevented me from learning the very skill which would
have enabled me to function on a par with my sighted peers.

      Now that the  sight-saving  era is behind us, I often wonder
what would have happened to me in today's educational system. Would
I have been taught Braille, or would I have been encouraged to read
print with a closed circuit television or other similar device?
Unfortunately the answer is all too easy to predict. The modern-day
educational system does not encourage teachers of blind children to
concentrate on Braille as a primary reading system for other than
the totally blind. Children with any remaining eyesight are pressed
to read print long past the point of reason and common sense.

      In my professional life I started as a teacher of blind
children. I have observed children using print in situations and
under conditions which defy reason. In particular I can vividly
remember watching a child being instructed in print using a CCTV at
full magnification. To complicate matters this child could not see
well if there was any glare in the room, so before he started
reading, the blinds were closed. To complicate matters further,
this child could not read letters that were at all stylized.
Therefore, the teacher would first retype all of the child's
material, using a sans serif large print typewriter which made very
plain typewritten letters. After the teacher had retyped the
child's material, closed the venetian blinds, and turned the CCTV
to full magnification, this child was able to read a few letters at
a time with excruciating slowness. Nevertheless, I was told that
she was not being taught Braille because her parents wished her to
read print. When this child became my student, I set about teaching
her Braille and found that her parents came to value her ability to
read and take pride in her newfound literacy. I firmly believe that
their reluctance to allow her to learn Braille was directly tied to
their desire not to think of their child as blind rather than to a
belief that print represented a more efficient means of reading for
her. I also believe that their negative attitudes were shaped by
the negative attitudes of the teacher.

      When I first determined to become a teacher of blind
children, I took it for granted that Braille reading and writing
would be stressed. My teacher preparation program required a
one-semester course in Braille with an optional semester course in
Braille math and music notation. This limited amount of training in
Braille is disturbing enough. However, my program was, at that
time, regarded as placing more emphasis on Braille than most other
programs throughout the nation. Quantity of Braille instruction
alone was not the problem. Prospective teachers completing the
Braille course had only marginal reading and writing ability, and
if the course was taken early in their program, they might not use
Braille for several years before becoming certified as teachers of
blind children.

      When I was student teaching, I needed to have large
quantities of material transcribed into Braille. To assist me I
hired a woman who had just taken the Braille course the previous
semester. She had received an  A  in the course and, therefore,
would (I assumed) be reasonably facile with Braille. The material
she first transcribed for me averaged sixteen Braille errors per
page. I was having this woman transcribe my material on
eight-and-a-half by eleven-inch paper. Figuring two to
two-and-a-half Braille pages for each print page, this is analogous
to hiring a typist who had just completed a typing course with an 
A  grade who averages thirty to forty errors per typewritten page.
I believe it is fair to say that many teachers of blind children
are not skilled in Braille and, therefore, seek alternatives to
Braille in working with their students. I remember when the Optacon
was first introduced. The manufacturer claimed that the Optacon
would make Braille obsolete. The manufacturer, in cooperation with
leading professionals in the field, developed a reading program
adapted for the Optacon. This was not a program to teach a child
who was already a skilled reader to transfer that skill to the
Optacon. Rather, this was a program intended to teach children the
skill of reading by means of the Optacon. If this belief were
limited only to the wild exaggerations of the manufacturer, it
could be more easily dismissed. Unfortunately, while going through
my teacher training, I had friends who seriously proposed
eliminating Braille as a requirement from the teacher preparation
curriculum since it would soon be obsolete.

      Lack of use of Braille by the teachers compounds the problem.
I was once told by a leading professional that it is not uncommon
for an itinerant teacher to have periods of seven to ten years
without a single Braille student. I would argue that this would not
be the case if all children who should be taught Braille were
taught Braille. Nevertheless, if it is the practice, it is easy to
see how a teacher's proficiency could easily deteriorate assuming,
of course, that the teacher had such proficiency in the first
place.

      A fundamental question which must be asked is this: Which
children should be taught to read Braille, and which children
should be taught to read print? In my professional work I developed
a set of criteria which I used to answer this question. I believe
that if a child can read standard sized print (holding it at a
normal reading distance) and if that child can read for a sustained
period of time without eye strain, then it is reasonable for that
child to read print. In other words, if a child can function as a
normally sighted person, then it can be reasonably expected that
the child will be able to function competitively as a print reader.
If the child suffers eye strain and cannot read for sustained
periods of time, then it is reasonable for that child to learn
Braille. All children must have a reading method which allows them
to be fully literate. I believe the criteria I have listed are
really nothing more than a functional definition of literacy. While
no one would argue against literacy, the fact of teachers not
receiving adequate training in Braille (coupled with new
technology, such as CCTVs) has steered educational practice away
from Braille and away from literacy.

      Four or five years ago a leading professional organization in
the United States circulated a proposed position paper asking for
comments from the field. This position paper was intended to
establish working criteria to settle once and for all the question
of which children should read print and which children should read
Braille. I was astonished when I read that one of the criteria
seriously being proposed was that a child who was able to read
print at ten words per minute should continue to be a print reader
and not be taught Braille. To the best of my knowledge this
position paper was never formally adopted. However, I was
dumbfounded that a leading professional would even propose such a
criterion.

      I believe that there exists a prejudice against Braille and
that, as with most prejudice, it is not deliberately intended or,
for that matter, even recognized by those who feel it most deeply.
I believe the source of the prejudice is nothing deeper or more
mysterious than the public misunderstanding and misconceptions
about blindness. Dr. Kenneth Jernigan, Executive Director of the
National Federation of the Blind, tells of visiting a classroom of
blind children and being told by the teacher:  This little girl
reads print. This little girl has to read Braille.  It is human
nature that prejudice (while irrational) is defended by seemingly
rational explanations. This is certainly true with the prejudice
against Braille. We are told that Braille is too bulky and too
expensive to produce that it is limited in quantity and that,
therefore, to teach a child Braille is to limit what the child will
be able to read. We are told that it is better to teach a child
print, thereby making available great quantities (virtually endless
quantities) of reading material to the child. Never mind that the
child may be only able to read at ten words per minute. Never mind
that the child may suffer eye strain and only be able to read for
a brief time. While Braille is too expensive, never mind the cost
of Optacons, talking computers, or CCTVs. While Braille is too
bulky, never mind the size and awkwardness of many low vision aids.

      Several years ago I attended a professional conference and
saw a presentation on the mainstreaming of blind children into a
regular public school. One of the slides showed a child with a CCTV
mounted on a cart, which he wheeled with him from class to class.
Yet, Braille is too bulky, too expensive, and too limited. As an
educator, I have seen low vision children with smudges on their
noses from trying to read their own handwriting their own
handwriting which was done with a soft lead pencil or felt tip pen.
Yet, somehow many of the professionals who shape the thinking of
society cling to the belief that to read print is inherently better
than to read Braille inherently  normal. 

      Young blind children must be instructed in the skill of
Braille writing, not only by means of the Braille writer but with
the slate and stylus as well. Earlier in this century Braille
writers were in scarce supply, and generations of blind children
grew up learning to write with the slate and stylus from the time
they entered the first grade. Now we are told that young blind
children lack the fine motor control to use the slate and stylus
and, therefore, that this skill should not be taught until middle
school. When a child is in middle school, he or she must already
have a reliable means of taking notes. It is too late to be
introducing a notetaking system. Even though the slate has
represented an efficient notetaking system for generations of blind
people, modern day pedagogy suggests that the slate is too slow and
causes too much confusion to be a useful tool because it teaches
children to  write backward.  Many teacher preparation programs
introduce the slate as little more than a relic of bygone days.
Instead of being taught an efficient writing method, far too many
children are given soft lead pencils or felt tip pens and are
taught to handwrite notes which they can only decipher with great
difficulty if at all. How will these children compete in today's
society? How will they obtain a college education when they are not
able easily to read their own handwriting? How will they make a
class presentation or deliver a speech without being able easily to
read from a printed text? The answer (Braille) seems obvious, and
it is certainly available but this simple truth seems to elude many
of today's  professionals  in the field.

      What we need and must have is an understanding in ourselves
and in society that, as blind people, we must be able to compete on
terms of equality with the sighted. To compete we must be literate,
and to be literate we must be able to read and write Braille. We
must promote a belief and an attitude that it is respectable to be
blind and that there is no inherent inferiority or second-class
status in the methods associated with blindness. As a child, when
I resisted learning Braille, I was resisting conceiving of myself
as a blind person. I automatically assumed that to be blind was to
be inferior and, therefore, that to use the tools of blindness was
an acceptance of inferiority. By rejecting blindness (and with it
Braille) I was rejecting the very skill which would have allowed me
to compete on an equal footing with my peers.

      We cannot allow our attitudes and the attitudes of society to
rob us of our right to first-class status. We must press for
greater emphasis on Braille among our school children. We must
press for greater availability of Braille. Perhaps the greatest
gift of our high tech age is computer production of Braille,
reducing both cost and transcription time. But above all, we must
press for an understanding that the tools we use as blind people
are not the badge of second-class status, but rather the banner of
equality.

      A Study in Scholarship

     Almost from its inception the National Federation of the Blind
sought ways to fund and award scholarships for deserving blind
students. In 1984 the NFB was able to expand its existing program
of awards into a broad scholarship system directed to blind
post-secondary students. Beginning in that year more than $50,000
was devoted annually to these scholarships, which by 1990 had grown
in number to a total of twenty-six. Of these the smallest award was
in the amount of $2,000, and the largest was $10,000. When
President Jernigan first outlined the new program, he was concerned
not only with recognizing the achievements of outstanding blind
students and helping with their educational expenses but also with
assembling every year a portfolio of blind individuals whose
accomplishments would explode the myth that blind persons cannot
excel at the entire panoply of  higher learning.  All of these
worthy goals could, of course, have been accommodated simply by
announcing the scholarship winners and mailing them their checks.
But Jernigan had an additional goal in mind, one more important
perhaps than all the rest. He proposed to bring blind students, the
brightest and the best, to the National Convention for a week of
communion with the Federation in its characteristic activity during
which the students might learn more about themselves, about
blindness, and about the organized blind in ways that no amount of
formal learning could duplicate. The unique bond of the Federation,
after all, was ultimately the bond of community, of deeply shared
personal commitment one to another, and could only be taught and
learned in live association. For that reason the scholarship
program was designed to require attendance at the convention as a
condition of eligibility.

     From the first year of the expanded program, it was clear that
making it possible for scholarship recipients to attend the
National Convention was appropriate and constructive. The number of
winners each year matched the number of scholarships available;
thus before the scholarship committee made its final decisions on
the awards, there was opportunity to meet and get to know the
students to a degree that few other award-granting institutions
could approximate. And there was something more to be bestowed than
the monetary awards; there was the gift of the Federation itself.
That was the thrust of remarks made at the 1989 convention by the
committee chairman, Peggy Pinder (who was also the NFB's Second
Vice President), in the course of her scholarship presentations:

      Now that we have bestowed the 1989 scholarships, I want to
say a final word to each of you who is a winner this year. We have
given to you of our treasure, of our hard-earned income; but we
have also given to you something else. We consider our scholarships
to you only secondary to this. We have given you another and
greater gift as through the week we have spent time with you,
attended meetings with you, dined with you, played poker with you,
talked with you, laughed with you, danced with you, debated and
discussed with you. Through our common experiences we have shown to
you that which is most important of all to you, the most precious
thing we have, and the thing we now offer to you our organization,
the National Federation of the Blind.

      We blind people first felt the need ourselves to establish an
organization because we did not have a common philosophy, a
structure through which to implement that philosophy, or the
policies that brought it into life. We have made that philosophy,
that organization, and those policies, and we now offer them to
you. But we ask you to recognize with us that a philosophy, a
structure, and policies in common do not make the National
Federation of the Blind. They are merely the building above the
ground. Underneath it is our feeling for one another. We do love
one another. We do hurt when one of us is hurt. We do comfort one
another when hurt occurs. We do fight for one another when one of
us is wronged. We do defend one another. We rejoice with one
another when achievements occur because they are the achievements
of each of us, not in some verbal sense, but really truly ours
because we do love one another and feel that strength of attachment
for one another on which our philosophy, our structure, and our
policies are built. We offer all of these to you, but particularly
the love. You have shown great achievement and shown that you can
give as well. We give our movement to you, and ask you to love it
as we have loved it, ask you to nurture it as we have nurtured it,
ask you to make it grow as we have made it grow. We are proud of it
just as we are proud of you.

      Scholarship winners, congratulations! Let's work together to
make all our futures come true!

     In the first year of the scholarship program, one of the
winners was a high school senior who had lost his sight a few years
before. He was tentative during his convention appearance about his
career plans and about his ability to navigate independently. Five
years later, this same student was confidently exercising the
skills first learned in the Federation as he attended Yale Law
School and simultaneously led America's blind students as their
elected chief. In another case, a scholarship winner had intended
to pursue a career in college teaching; but as he came to learn
about the Federation, he also learned that he had selected that
career to minimize his contacts with the general public whose
attitudes were so often painful to encounter. Working with
Federationists, he discovered that he had a liking for social
action and public mingling, after all, and he subsequently became
a management trainee with IBM.

     The week-long experience of the NFB convention itself was
typically an inspiration for the scholarship winners. While
committee members and others took on the responsibility of teaching
the students how to use a long white cane effectively, more
important than this instruction was the graphic example all around
them of hundreds of other blind persons speeding about, both at
work and play, on schedules and travel routes that were part of the
routine day. Of course, it was then common enough for blind persons
somewhere along the way in their lives to be taught a little about
the white cane; but it was equally common for the instructor to be
sighted and for the student to conclude that getting around must be
a terrible burden for the blind simply because there were no role
models of confident, self-possessed blind persons included in the
cane curriculum. At the Federation conventions, on the other hand,
hundreds of such positive role models were encountered in the daily
round of activities; no one could be a part of that for many days
without getting the point and learning the lesson of independent
mobility.

     The effects of the program were dramatic. Not only were blind
students encouraged to seek higher education, but the brightest
among them came to understand a new philosophy of blindness. State
programs of rehabilitation (although they were established to
assist blind students to obtain proper training) often failed to
provide inspiration, talented instruction, or the resources for
securing educational opportunity. All of these were available at
the convention of the National Federation of the Blind. Perhaps the
most significant was the encouragement and the spirit which were
engendered:  If they can do it, so can I. 

      Train Up a Child

     As the Federation grew through the 1970s and into the 1980s,
more and more of its members realized that the Federation message
was simply not reaching people quickly enough. Some blind people
lost their sight as adults. but many of them were children, some of
whom did not hear of the Federation until they had reached
adulthood. Why, Federation leaders thought, not make available to
blind children and their parents the same message that was being
disseminated to blind adults?

     The Federation began by establishing a Committee on Parental
Concerns. Then, in 1982 the first seminar for parents of blind
children was held at the National Convention, and it immediately
became an annual event. These seminars attracted parents of blind
children from throughout the country. The parents themselves
planned the program and met throughout the convention week,
sometimes in formal sessions on topics specific to the education of
their children and sometimes informally to share frustrations and
successes. The blind children, too, came to the National
Convention, along with their brothers and sisters who were not
blind. Specific programs were organized for the blind children to
meet and get to know young blind adults with whom they might form
friendships. Since blindness occurs randomly in the population,
most blind children do not have blind parents. Therefore, it was
felt to be important to make sure that the children had as role
models a variety of blind adults to help them envision themselves
growing up into competent, responsible citizens.

     The parents and children alike were given the chance to learn
the same thing that the scholarship winners were learning the
efficiency of the long white cane, the broad array of jobs being
successfully handled by the blind, and a sensible perspective on
blindness. The reaction of parents to the Federation message was
often relief mixed with anger relief that they had finally found
someone who talked sensibly about their blind children as normal
people, combined with anger that no  professional  had told them
about the Federation. And all of the family members parents, blind
children, and sighted siblings left the convention feeling that
they had met hundreds of blind people who would happily serve as
continuing resources in the years to come.

     By 1981 the Federation was publishing Future Reflections, the
most widely circulated and respected magazine in the field dealing
with the concerns and problems of parents of blind children. The
Federation had also established a parents division, which was
actively working throughout the country as a resource and support
group. Barbara Cheadle, president of the Parents of Blind Children
Division, was editor of Future Reflections, and she and her husband
John were devoting substantial energy to contacting and organizing
parents. Although both of the Cheadles were sighted, they were
dedicated to the Federation and gave it a high priority in their
lives. One reason for this devotion was undoubtedly the fact that
the Cheadles had an adopted blind child of their own. Barbara
Cheadle wrote an article which appeared in the March, 1985, Braille
Monitor, which talked about the establishment and progress of
Future Reflections:

                       FUTURE REFLECTIONS
                       by Barbara Cheadle

      In July, 1981, at the annual meeting of the NFB Parental
Concerns Committee a motion was made and carried to start a
newsletter for parents of blind children. Under the leadership of
Susan Ford and others the committee was alive with excitement. All
kinds of creative ideas and projects were being discussed and
proposed. The newsletter was one of them.

      Later that summer I as the new volunteer editor of this
venture pulled out paper and pens, sat down at the kitchen table,
and started to put together our first issue. We mailed out 368
copies of a 15-page newsletter that November of 1981. John's
parents came to see us the weekend that we were right in the middle
of folding, stapling, labeling, and trying to puzzle out the postal
regulations for bundling all those papers. We put John's parents to
work, too. Before they left, they even  paid  for the privilege of
helping. They left us a check as a donation to the National
Federation of the Blind. It had taken us all weekend to get the job
done.

      This month November, 1984, three years later we had 7,000
issues of a 32-page magazine (now called Future Reflections)
printed for circulation. This time we didn't assemble and label
them in my living room. We did that on the dining room table at
Frank and Glenda Smith's home. (Frank Smith is the first vice
president of the NFB Parents of Blind Children Division. Glenda
handles the mailing list on her home computer. They also have six
children, and a big table.) Our NFB Western Chapter president was
there to help, too. Between telephone calls, sick kids, and babies
with runny noses, we had the issue ready to mail in two days.

      From November, 1981, to November, 1984, the circulation of
Future Reflections has increased almost 2,000 percent. Originally
a project of the NFB Parental Concerns Committee, it is now
published (like the Braille Monitor) by our National Office.
Currently, we are the largest publication for parents of blind
children in the nation. We are also the only magazine for parents
of blind children. There are two other national publications for
parents of blind children. One is a four-page quarterly newsletter
put out by the International Institute for the Visually
Handicapped, 0-7, Inc. This group deals exclusively with pre-school
children. We have reprinted articles from this newsletter from time
to time in Future Reflections. The other newsletter is published by
the National Association of Parents of the Visually Impaired
(NAPVI). This is the American Foundation for the Blind parent
group. Typically, the content reflects the AFB attitudes about
blindness. I have had parents tell me that there is no comparison
between Future Reflections and Awareness, the NAPVI newsletter.
Future Reflections is read from cover to cover and kept for
reference. The NAPVI newsletter gets a glance and is tossed aside.

      Remarks about reading Future Reflections from  cover to cover 
are common. Some young mothers report locking themselves in the
bathroom to read it as soon as the issue arrives. (If you think
that seems like a strange thing to do, then you've never been a
young mother. The bathroom is the only place I've found where you
can get a little privacy when you have small children in the
house.)

      The comment that best describes most parents' reactions came
from a California mother. She said,  This is the first time I have
read your newsletter, and I am delighted and excited to know it
exists I found a wealth of information THAT I CAN USE! 

      Fathers read Future Reflections, too.  I gain so much from
your publication,  was the brief but very much to the point note
from one busy father. Another parent from Hawaii wrote saying,  I
am writing to you to ask if you could send me your magazine, Future
Reflections. I saw a copy of your magazine and was really impressed
by it. I have a son who is blind. Your magazine really gave me some
ideas on how to work with him, how to cope with future problems I
may have, and how to deal with Chris as a person. Also, it could be
used as a reference to more information I may need. I really feel
comfortable with your information.  Parents aren't the only ones
who read and benefit from Future Reflections. Teachers frequently
write requesting subscriptions or expressing their appreciation.
One teacher wrote in the spring of 1984 saying,  As a teacher of
visually impaired children, I was very impressed with your new
publication. Keep up the good work.  Another teacher from Georgia
wrote,  As an educator, I do appreciate and learn from your
publication, Future Reflections. Thanks for a job well done.  Other
teachers have commented on our  professional  quality.

      It's very important that we continue to reach these teachers.
Often, the teacher for the visually impaired is the only contact
parents have with someone who has any knowledge about blindness at
all. Parents and their blind child can become very attached to and
dependent upon this teacher. There are obviously problems with
that. Even some of the best teachers have little contact with blind
adults in general, and even less with the organized blind movement.
Needless to say, that seriously limits their understanding of
blindness.

      Colleges, universities, libraries, pre-school programs,
schools for the blind, hospitals, eye clinics, churches, and
agencies for the blind are just some of the institutions that
subscribe to Future Reflections. Special education professors
distribute copies to their students. An ophthalmologist in
California keeps copies in his patients' waiting room. Our magazine
is distributed and used in college programs for preparation of
teachers of the visually impaired. Agencies for the blind, such as
the Vision Foundation in Massachusetts, keep multiple copies on
hand to distribute in information packets to parents. Future
Reflections is quoted and used as a reference by educators, and top
educational administrators recommend and praise it to teachers and
parents alike. The executive director of the Royer-Greares School
for the Blind in Pennsylvania sent us this year a  letter of
appreciation on behalf of the teachers of this school for
multihandicapped blind boys and girls.  Other representatives of
institutions have expressed similar feelings.

      Future Reflections is also becoming known outside the United
States. We have a growing number of subscriptions from Canada. A
teacher from the Hollywood School, Metro Day Program for the Blind
in Canada, called it an  excellent magazine.  A teacher with the
school for the blind in Gambia, West Africa, says that parents
especially respond to the NFB's  approaches to blindness. 

      We often like to say in the Federation that  it is
respectable to be blind.  One of the most exciting things about the
magazine is that it is helping to make that statement a reality for
thousands of blind children. Most of the time we will never know
what impact an article or issue will have on any individual parent,
child, or teacher. But we do know this: Future Reflections is
respected and valued by thousands of parents and teachers
nationally. Since Future Reflections is published by the National
Federation of the Blind by BLIND people it is only logical and
inevitable that these parents and teachers now have more respect
for blind people than they had three years ago. And you don't
discriminate against, coddle, or treat as inferiors those you
respect.

      There is another aspect to the influence of Future
Reflections that reminds me of the nursery rhyme,  The House that
Jack Built.  The rhyme links all kinds of events and relationships
together. A rat is killed, a cow tramples a dog, a maiden is kissed
and wed, and a farmer sows his corn violence, murder, romance, and
re-birth all because Jack built a house!

      Future Reflections did not arise out of a vacuum. Long before
the magazine became a reality we had Doris Willoughby demonstrating
how Federation philosophy can work in the education of blind
children. Susan Ford was an early leader in the formation of the
parental concerns committee. She is the current president of the
Parents of Blind Children Division and sets an example for other
parents with her own down to earth wisdom and savvy about rearing
children. Marc Maurer in the Student Division helped demonstrate
how dynamic our national divisions and committees can be. The NFB
has accumulated over the years a library of literature and
information that provides the best, most accurate insights about
blindness anywhere in the nation, or world for that matter. And it
all goes back to 1940 when Dr. Jacobus tenBroek and blind
representatives from seven states met and laid the philosophical
and organizational foundation for our  house  the NFB.

      The philosophical foundations are, of course, the reason we
succeed where the American Council of the Blind cannot. We were not
the first to attempt to publish a newsletter for parents of blind
children. The ACB tried to but their circulation never reached
beyond about 300 and finally their newsletter folded. Unlike the
NFB, the ACB does not have a unifying goal, philosophy, and
purpose. That's why we succeed where they fail.

      Just as the success of Future Reflections has been influenced
by the work of Federationists in years past, so has the magazine
been influencing the growth of the Federation in some rather
surprising and unlikely ways. Here's an example.

      Shortly after we started publication, I began collecting
names and addresses of visually impaired teachers from the various
states. (We now have such lists from over two-thirds of the fifty
states plus D.C. We would like to get the other one-third also, so
write and let us know if you would like to help in that effort.)

      One state president was really on the ball and was among the
first to get such a list from her department of education. A year
later that state president called me and said,  Guess what? Future
Reflections just helped us set up a new NFB chapter.  She and an
organizing team had gone into a new community to organize a chapter
but weren't having much success finding blind folks. She did have
the name of a teacher of the visually impaired, so she called her.
The teacher was ecstatic when she heard that they were with the
NFB.  I just got my latest issue of your magazine for parents of
blind children this morning,  she said.  I read it from cover to
cover. It's a wonderful magazine. Of course, I'll help you.  The
town soon had a new chapter, and that teacher was one of its
charter members.

      There are so many possibilities. We can use Future
Reflections to educate, to increase membership, to raise funds, to
improve job opportunities for the blind, and more. But it can be
effective only if WE promote it and use it. Marc Maurer recently
used Future Reflections to get a donation for the NFB from a
service club. It wasn't hard to do. People are happy to donate
their money when they know it is going to be helping blind children
right in their own communities. But how many of us have thought to
do that? Time and priorities surely have something to do with it,
and perhaps simply a lack of knowledge about the effectiveness of
Future Reflections a problem I hope this article will help take
care of.

      There is an interesting phenomenon about the reactions of
sighted members of the public and blind Federationists after they
have read their first issue. Both are often surprised. About two
years ago a high school journalism teacher (who was going to do
some volunteer typing for us) took her first look at an issue and
exclaimed,  Hey, this ain't no rag.  At first I thought it was
because of me. Maybe no one expected a homemaker and mother working
out of her own home to be the editor of a first-class publication.
But as incident after incident occurred, I wondered if it wasn't
something else.

      Not long ago a Federationist, who had just read an issue,
remarked to my husband with shock in his voice,  It was really
good!  This came just after I had had a talk with a Federation
leader who wanted me to speak at a state NFB seminar for parents of
blind children. It didn't look as if I could go, and she was
worried. She didn't think she knew enough about raising and
educating blind children.  Well,  I said,  Why do you think I know
more than you? I'm the parent of a blind child. Do you think that
makes me more qualified than you? 

       Well, no,  she said.

       All right,  I said.  I have completed one half of a college
education program for the preparation of teachers of the visually
impaired. Does that make me more knowledgeable than you? 

      She laughed (she knew what college I was talking about).  No! 
she said.

       You're a mother,  I said.  You were a blind child, and even
more important, you're a knowledgeable member and leader of the
NFB. Where do you think I learned about blindness? From you and
from the thousands of other Federationists who have directly or
indirectly taught me everything I know. You're the real `experts'
about blindness. 

      I wonder how many of us still secretly believe that the 
professionals  know something that we don't.

      Future Reflections is a first-class publication. It's
first-class because the National Federation of the Blind is
first-class; because blind people are first-class. Let's use it,
distribute it, and promote it with pride.

      Passport to Freedom

      An increasing number of us are living our Federationism on a
daily basis, knowing it to be our passport to freedom. We must
finish our march to acceptance and full membership in society. Our
heritage requires it; our purpose proclaims it; our humanity
demands it. This cause of ours is a sacred trust. It is worthy of
all that we have or can ever hope to be and we shall not fail. 

     So spoke the President of the National Federation of the Blind
at the banquet of the National Convention in Phoenix, Arizona, in
1984. The twelve months just ended had been one of the most
successful times in the organization's history, and the convention
was a celebration of that fact but it was more. It was a time to
review the problems and triumphs of the past year and to chart the
course for the year ahead. In his report to the members at the
convention President Jernigan said:

      One way to measure our progress during the past year is by
the increasing amount of recognition we have received from public
officials throughout the country. This year more governors declared
National Federation of the Blind Month, Week, or Day in their
states than ever before in history. Last year a number of us went
to Vice President Bush's office to talk with him about issues
affecting the blind. This year we met with President Reagan in the
Oval Office at the White House.

      During the past year, President Jernigan continued, we have
made greater progress than ever before in getting our message to
the public through the media. The October 1, 1983, issue of Vital
Speeches carried the 1983 banquet speech  Blindness: The Other Half
of Inertia.  Vital Speeches goes to every college and university in
the country and to many of the nation's high schools. Our spots now
saturate the airwaves. Not only are our messages used on local
stations but they are also carried by most of the networks. On
November 30 Peggy Pinder and Barbara Pierce appeared for an
eight-minute segment on the television program Hour Magazine. Used
by 160 television stations, this is one of the most popular daytime
TV shows in the country. On April 13 of this year we were featured
on the Today show. We had eleven minutes to tell our story to one
of the largest television audiences in the nation.

     In the rest of his 1984 report President Jernigan detailed a
variety of problems and triumphs. Then, he said in conclusion: 
When you look back over the past year, you cannot help but feel joy
and satisfaction at what we have accomplished. Yes, there have been
problems and battles, but what an absolutely wonderful year we have
had! We have kept the faith with Dr. tenBroek and the other
founders of our movement, and we have kept the faith with
ourselves. We have lived the dream and fulfilled the promise. 

     As always, the banquet was the climax of the convention; and
when President Jernigan rose to make his banquet address, he talked
of the damage which sophistry had done to the blind:

      The clever and plausible but false and misleading arguments
(the propositions which put us down and keep us out) are temptingly
easy to accept and believe, he said. With respect to the blind the
message is clear and uncomplicated: The blind lack eyesight. Other
people have it. Sight is important. Therefore, the blind are
inferior. We are unable to compete. We must be taken care of. We
cannot hold jobs not, that is, unless the work is very simple, very
repetitive, and very subsidized. We cannot raise children, travel
independently, or manage our own lives. This is the traditional
norm, the time-honored belief; and if it is true, we should face
it, not fight or deny it. But, of course, this is not the way it
is, he said to a roaring response from his audience; and no
sophistry on earth can make it that way.

     The text of the 1984 banquet speech follows:

               BLINDNESS: THE CIRCLE OF SOPHISTRY
                       by Kenneth Jernigan

      Sophistry, we are told, is an argument or option which is
clever and plausible, but false and misleading. To illustrate let
as consider color. We learn from the dictionary that color is:  The
property of reflecting light of a particular wavelength.  In other
words if an object is green, the color (or wavelength) green is
reflected back, and all other colors (or wavelengths) are absorbed.
White, as everyone knows, is the absence of color, and black is the
opposite. Yet, what we call black reflects no light waves at all
and is, thus, the absence of color white what we call white (again
to quote the dictionary) is:  The reflection of all the rays that
produce color.  Therefore, the logic is inevitable: black is white,
and white is black.

      I wish I could say that the linguistic sleight-of-hand which
I have just performed is symbolic of nothing more vicious than
verbal gymnastics or a pleasant game, but that is not the way of
it. Sophistry is no toy. It is one of the most deadly weapons in
the arsenal of tyranny. It has bedeviled and bedazzled humanity
since the beginning of history. If (as the saying goes) hypocrisy
is the tribute which vice pays to virtue, then sophistry is the
tribute which lies pay to the truth.

      Sophistry takes its name from the sophists of ancient Athens.
It was the principal instrument which they used first to discredit,
then to imprison, and finally to execute Socrates. It was big in
the middle ages with the Inquisition and the burning of witches. It
flourishes today in the twentieth century. All we need do to
understand the power of clever and plausible but false and
misleading words is to remember the twisted rhetoric of Joseph
Goebels and Adolph Hitler. Except for the glitter and hypnotic lure
of sophistry the Nazi tanks might never have rolled, and the death
and destruction of the Second World War might never have been.

      And what sophistry has done to society as a whole it has done
to the component parts especially and particularly to disadvantaged
minorities. And of all the minorities, none has experienced more
cruelly and bitterly the blight of sophistry than those of us who
are blind. It has been our greatest stumbling block, our heaviest
burden. It remains so today.

      The clever and plausible but false and misleading arguments
(the propositions which put us down and keep us out) are temptingly
easy to accept and believe. With respect to the blind the message
is clear and uncomplicated: the blind lack eyesight. Other people
have it. Sight is important. Therefore, the blind are inferior. We
are unable to compete. We must be taken care of. We cannot hold
jobs not, that is, unless the work is very simple, very repetitive,
and very subsidized. We cannot raise children, travel
independently, or manage our own lives. When one of us makes an
achievement of obvious excellence, we are told that it means we
have special genius, special talents, or unusual powers. Our other
senses have grown keener to compensate. We are marvels, freaks,
conversation pieces, and objects of pity and often all at the same
time and by the same person. According to this line of thought,
whatever you call it and however you cut it, we are not (and can
never hope to be) everyday, normal people laughing, crying,
working, playing, succeeding, failing, hoping, and dreaming like
those around us. We are blind. That is sufficient. It is a matter
of simple logic and common sense.

      This is the traditional norm, the time-honored belief; and if
it is true, we should face it, not fight or deny it. And we should
face it not angrily or bitterly but with acceptance and humility,
with gratitude for the charity we receive and the sufferance we are
given. Moreover, if (as we are repeatedly told) this is really how
it is, we should disband the National Federation of the Blind and
confront our troubles alone drawing whatever comfort we can from
doctor, social worker, or priest; for there will be little purpose
in collective action. If our problems are inherent in our blindness
(if they are truly innate and not externally imposed), then our
whole organizational existence has been not only a tragic mistake
but a cruel detriment, for we have kindled hopes which can never be
realized and conjured dreams which can never come true.

      But, of course, this is not the way it is; and no carefully
spun sophistry can make it that way. The arguments and propositions
which hold that we are inferior are clever and plausible, but they
are false and misleading. To put it bluntly, they are just plain
lies. The fact is that the average blind person can compete on
terms of equality with the average sighted person in whatever line
of endeavor you care to mention: work, play, criminal conduct,
saintliness, immorality, rectitude, ill-temper, gentle behavior,
laziness, or creativity. Then, why (one reasonably may ask) do
seventy percent of the blind of employable years not have jobs? And
even when we do get jobs, why are so many of us relegated to the
sheltered shops and paid less than the minimum wage? Why (if what
I am saying is the truth) are we told where we can sit on
airplanes, denied insurance on equal terms with others,
custodialized in the home by our families, condescended to on the
streets by strangers, and treated in general as if we were children
or freaks?

      The answer is easy to give but hard (at least at the
emotional level) for the average person to accept. In primitive
societies light (whether firelight or daylight) meant safety and
survival. Darkness meant danger and fear. Light and the ability to
see were equated, and they were thought of as good and pure.
Blindness was considered synonymous with darkness, and darkness
meant evil and inferiority.

      The blind were not good at hunting or dodging a spear, so
they were regarded as a drag on the tribe, a burden and a
hindrance. They were treated and thought of as second-class, and
they doubtless accepted the public view of their limitations, with
a great many feelings of guilt and shame thrown in for good
measure.

      We no longer live in the hunting culture of primitive times,
but we often act as if we do. The myths and prejudices of those
times still dominate our feelings and control our subconscious. In
today's society there is very little premium on killing a
saber-tooth tiger or dodging a spear, but when you dig beneath the
surface and get to where we live, our attitudes indicate otherwise.
The cave-man culture is gone, but the cave-man values remain. At
the core of our being we fear the dark; we shiver at the roar of
the saber-tooth tiger; and we feel that the blind are a burden to
the tribe.

      How (in the face of irrefutable evidence to the contrary) are
all of these myths maintained? How (with blind persons successfully
doing every conceivable kind of job, having families and raising
children as effectively as anybody else, and participating fully in
the political and social life of the community) can the false
assumptions and second-class treatment survive? The answer can be
given in a single word sophistry. It is not, for the most part,
that the average citizen on the street wants to do us harm or
deprive us of opportunity. It is not (except when their jobs or
their vested interests or their egos are involved) that the
employees of the governmental and private agencies doing work with
the blind wish us ill. Certainly it is not that we ourselves seek
to sell ourselves short and limit our horizons. Yet, the myths
about blindness remain, bolstered and reinforced by clever and
plausible but false and misleading arguments and propositions.

      The mistaken beliefs and false concepts are almost
universally accepted by the general public, and when people lose
their eyesight, they carry with them into blindness the erroneous
ideas which they held when they were sighted. They then live the
part they are expected to play and feed back to society the
conceptions which it gave them in the first place. Likewise, those
who are born blind are taught their roles from the beginning, and
unless they are given counterbalancing information, they live as
they are expected to live. They think as they are expected to
think.

      To make matters worse the employees (whether blind or
sighted) of the governmental and private agencies established to
give service to the blind are also (with notable exceptions) part
of the negative process. The urge to feel important is very nearly
irresistible. Therefore, when these  experts  tell the blind that
they must adjust to a very limited existence and when they tell the
sighted that their work is so difficult and complex as to approach
the mysterious, they are generally believed. This is so even though
what they are dispensing is not  professional  knowledge or the
results of research or new truth but simply old ideas and the fear
of the dark, which they absorbed as children. Thus, the circle is
complete, with each component giving feedback and reinforcement to
the rest of the loop.

      Yet, despite the sophistry and the widespread belief that we
are inferior, we have made gains. In fact, during the past four
decades there has been such an upsurge of progress and achievement
as to constitute a veritable revolution. The new element (the root
cause) is represented by those of us here tonight. You know what it
is as well as I do. It is the National Federation of the Blind.

      When Dr. Jacobus tenBroek and the rest of that handful of
founders met in Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania, in 1940 to organize our
movement, they understood what they were doing and what it would
mean. The Federation was to be the vehicle for concerted action by
the blind. It was to be the circuit breaker to stop the flow of
clever and plausible but false and misleading ideas which went in
a seemingly endless circle from the sighted public to the agencies
serving the blind to the blind themselves and back again.

      That is what the National Federation of the Blind was created
to do, and that is what it has done. We have done it in the past;
we are doing it now; and we intend to keep on doing it in the
future regardless of who dislikes it or how much they resent it.
Established patterns are comfortable. They require no mental
effort, and they give money and power and prestige to various
groups and individuals. But we are simply no longer willing to be
second-class citizens. We want no strife or confrontation, but we
will do what we have to do; and we are absolutely determined to
break the circle of destructive sophistry which blights our lives
and limits our opportunities. We know who we are, and we will never
go back.

      One of our problems is the tendency of the general public to
try (regardless of the truth of the matter) to make us conform to
their notions of what we are. When the facts are at variance with
their preconceptions, they tend to forget the facts and cling to
their preconceptions. No one is worse at this  don't bother me with
the facts; I know how it is  attitude than the members of the
media.

      The July 24, 1981, edition of the Tribune of Tacoma,
Washington, carried a feature article about Glen Latham. Glen, who
is totally blind and a staunch Federationist, is a Vietnam veteran.
He is also a home owner in Tacoma. The newspaper reporter (a Ms.
Willene Anderson) said that she wanted to write an article to help
remove the stereotypes and misconceptions about the blind. She came
to Glen's house and talked with him at length. You can determine
from the letter which Glen wrote to Ms. Anderson's boss whether she
told it like it was or simply liked it the way she told it:

      The purpose of my letter, [Glen wrote,] is two-fold. The
first is concerned with me personally. The second is concerned with
the blind in general and the stereotyped view that Ms. Anderson's
article encourages.

      Ms. Anderson has me quoted as saying,  Our sight is one of
many things we take for granted. When it is gone, we must start our
lives all over again, just as children learning only this time in
the dark.  I do not recall making such a statement. Children learn
to walk and talk. They do not have to be taught to see. I did not
have to learn to walk or talk again.

      I recall mentioning to Ms. Anderson that my mother had died.
Ms. Anderson made no inquiries as to when my mother died or if I
lived with her. I made no statement which could even possibly have
implied that I lived with my mother after my return from the war.
When I came back from Vietnam in February of 1968, I spent 50
months in Balboa Naval Hospital in San Diego, six months in
rehabilitation in Palo Alto, then six months back in the hospital
for further operations. My mother died a month after my release
from the hospital. Had Ms. Anderson asked, she would have known
this.

      Ms. Anderson leads her readers to believe that after I
recovered from my wounds, I went to live with my mother. Then she
died, leaving me all alone to pick up the pieces of my life once
again. Stating that I lived with my mother is a complete falsehood.

      Ms. Anderson has me quoted as saying,  It used to be so
important to me, the outdoors things I could see. I had always
dreamed of living in this area.  This is false. During the
interview, Ms. Anderson said, and I quote,  Glen, you are very
athletic. What do you think about the handicapped climbers of Mt.
Rainier?  Ms. Anderson assumed that I am athletic; I am not. I made
no mention of liking the outdoors or of being athletically
inclined. I did not tell her that I had  always dreamed of living
in this area.  I stated that I had always liked living in this
area. There is a big difference between  liking  and  dreaming. 

      When I was looking for a home to purchase, Ms. Anderson
implies that I had to take into account numerous special
considerations. She states that  many homebuyers are looking for
things that are aesthetically pleasing.  This implies that I was
not. Why wouldn't I want a home that is aesthetically pleasing? Of
course it was an important factor!

      Ms. Anderson states that the house doesn't have any  extra
barriers, like steep stairs or sharp corners.  Whose house did she
look at? From the street it is obvious that the house has a second
floor. She made no inquiries concerning the architectural design of
the place. But how could she have missed the upstairs, even if she
missed the basement? There are, in fact, two flights of what are
considered  steep  stairs in my home. One flight leads to the
second floor, and the other leads to the basement, where I spend
most of my time working at my desk. My home could not be considered
small. I have 2,400 square feet of living space. The previous
owners of the house were not visually impaired or physically
disabled in any way, and the house remains structurally and
architecturally the same as it was when I bought it.

      Ms. Anderson also states that I  get help in mowing my lawn
and other outside work.  She made no inquiries concerning yard
work. The fact of the matter is that I have hired a professional
lawn service. The lawn service I use serves over 90 homes in the
Tacoma area, and very few of these homes are occupied by the
disabled or the elderly. The hiring of the lawn service does not
mean that I cannot do the work myself. Why do the other homeowners
have the same service?

      Ms. Anderson states that my relatives help me. My cousin and
her son live with me. I am helping her go to college. We have a
living arrangement that is helpful to both of us. She has lived
with me for the past year. Prior to that she lived in California,
and for almost five years I lived alone. I was not, and am still
not, dependent on my relatives.

      Ms. Anderson states that my furnishings are simple. I think
this is a commentary on her taste and not my furniture. She states
that  furniture in the middle of the room would be bothersome. 
Bothersome to whom? Perhaps she didn't see the coffee table that
stands in front of the ten foot sofa that she was sitting on during
the interview. Perhaps she didn't see the large ottoman which sits
in front of the large round swivel chair that I was sitting in.

      Ms. Anderson made no inquiries as to who does the grocery
shopping. Yet, she says in her article that I rely on my relatives
to do it. Sometimes I shop with them; sometimes I don't. My cousin
and I usually shop for groceries once a month as a matter of
convenience because of our busy schedules. We buy large quantities,
requiring the use of a car which, I may add, I own.

      Ms. Anderson also stated that  house cleaning chores are
mostly done by relatives.  How does she know this? She certainly
didn't ask. If she had, she would have found that we all share
equally in the housework. Everyone keeps their own room clean,
including my cousin's seven-year-old son. We all share in keeping
the rest of the house clean. She has me quoted as saying that I can
cook, iron clothes, and do household chores. However, she turns
right around and states that  house-cleaning chores are mostly done
by relatives. 

      I am sure Ms. Anderson felt she was doing a great service to
me and the blind community. I also realize that for a newspaper to
attract its readers, it must have  good copy,  and that in many
cases a story must be dramatized to emphasize a point. However,
this article is so distorted and false that I feel it has done more
damage than good. The attitudes she expresses are more
sophisticated than the stereotyped sob story of the blind man
selling pencils on the street corner, but the fundamentals are the
same.

      This is Glen Latham's letter, and it sums up an entire system
the clever and plausible but false and misleading ideas and beliefs
which have blocked our progress and blighted our lives through the
centuries. The reporter's intentions were doubtless good and her
motives the best, but the damage is no less severe and the hurt no
easier to bear not to mention which a lot of us are getting tired
of having our road to hell paved with other people's good
intentions. More often than not, such people act shocked if we try
to set them straight and feel angry if we are not grateful for the
efforts they have made. Our conduct is at variance with the
humility they expect us to demonstrate. We do not wish to be
arrogant or turbulent, but we are not prepared to sit passively by
and be pictured as what we are not. Let people think what they will
and call us what they please. We are simply no longer willing to be
second-class citizens. We have learned the truth about ourselves
and our blindness, and (regardless of the consequences) we intend
to live that truth. We know who we are, and we will never go back.

      If the Glen Latham story were an isolated instance, it would
be regrettable but not worth making much noise about. However, it
is not isolated but typical. The Jaycees of Sioux Falls, South
Dakota, encouraged the blind of the area to become members. With no
further details one would applaud the action. However, the Jaycees
established a segregated chapter for the blind and what do you
suppose the chapter was named? It was called the Deadeye Chapter.
If the name was meant to be funny, it is sick. If it was not, it is
sicker. Ben Mayry and our other South Dakota members are fighting
hard to combat such madness, and we are making progress; but the
road stretches far ahead.

      The United States Association for Blind Athletes is
relatively noncontroversial, but in 1979 a seemingly innocent event
concerning that organization occurred which demonstrates why the
sophistries about blindness are so attractive to the members of the
sighted public. Jeff Hopper is vice president of marketing and
administration for a savings and loan association in the Puget
Sound area. He is also volunteer president of the Northwest Chapter
of the United States Association for Blind Athletes. In a magazine
column he wrote as follows:

      The concept of winning has long been taught through athletic
competition. It is a priority in our society and most people who
would be considered  successful  can relate to some form of
athletic competition.

      Until recently, however, blind and visually impaired persons
in the United States have been excluded from athletic
participation. More importantly, the lack of athletic participation
for the visually handicapped has restricted their learning of the
winning process.

      I am sure that Mr. Hopper is both generous and sincere, and
at first glance there would seem to be nothing wrong with his
statement. But look again. Is it really necessary for the blind
(or, for that matter, the sighted) to engage in athletics to learn
the concept of winning or understand how to be successful? If it
is, and if the blind never had the opportunity to participate in
athletics before the establishment of the United States Association
for Blind Athletes, then how very much more important and
significant is Mr. Hopper's volunteer work than it would be if he
were simply performing a run-of-the-mill civic or community
project. Of course, the whole proposition is nothing but nonsense
and sophistry. A great many of the most successful people the world
has ever known have not had the slightest interest in athletics;
and as we know from personal experience, there are (and always have
been) plenty of ways for the blind to learn the concept of winning
without engaging in athletics. This is not to take anything away
from the United States Association for Blind Athletes or Mr.
Hopper. It is only to point out one of the reasons why sophistries
about the blind are so attractive. They permit sighted people with
feelings of inferiority to feel important.

      Even though the actions of the newspaper reporter, the
Jaycees, and Mr. Hopper do us harm, there may be some excuse for
their behavior. They are not constantly dealing with blind people,
and they do not have the opportunity on a daily basis to observe
the problems created by the misconceptions and wrong ideas which
they help to promote. For the most part they do not claim to be
experts.

      Unfortunately the same cannot be said for the employees of
the governmental and private agencies established to give service
to the blind. Their much vaunted  professionalism,  their very
rationale for being, rests upon the premise that they know what
blindness is about and how to deal with it. In the manner of
doctors dealing with medical matters, they hold themselves out as
the possessors of correct information, and they say they can teach
that information not only to the public but also to those of us who
are blind.

      Yet, much of the literature which comes from these agencies
is worse than what we get from the public. As an example, I call
your attention to a book published by the American Foundation for
the Blind in 1974 and reissued in 1978. It was written by a person
with impressive credentials named Anne Yeadon, and it is entitled
Toward Independence The Use of Instructional Objectives in Teaching
Daily Living Skills to the Blind. If there was ever a case of
destructive sophistry and just plain drivel, this book is it. If
what it teaches represents all we can expect in the way of
independence, who can wonder at the fear people have about
blindness and the low esteem in which we are so often held!

      This treatise on  independence  has sections on: table
behavior, domestic tasks, kitchen equipment, and cooking. Let us
look at the section on table behavior. It contains these subparts:

      Seating Self at a Table The Locating Technique An Informal
Place Setting Exploring Contents of a Plate of Food Use of a Knife
and Fork to Cut Food Placing Knife on Plate When Not in Use
Checking for Food Dropped from Plate Placing of Knife and Fork at
Close of Meal Differentiating Pepper and Salt Applying Pepper and
Salt Pouring Cold Liquids Adding Sugar to a Drink Use of the Spoon
for Stirring Obtaining Food From a Relish Dish Boning a Fish
Serving Self at the Table Pouring of Hot Liquids Carrying
Containers of Food/Liquid Drinking Soup With the Aid of a Spoon 
Scooping  Food With the Aid of a Fork The  Buffer  Technique
Buttering a Piece of Bread Cutting Salad With a Knife and Fork Use
of a Fork to Eat Desserts Handling and Eating Dry Foods Cutting
Fried Eggs With the Aid of a Knife and Fork Cutting a Piece of
Pie/Cake Lighting a Cigarette Using an Ash Tray

      I think we can get the tone of the book by examining two of
these items. First, let us see what it says about  Placing Knife on
Plate When Not in Use :

      TITLE: Demonstrating the placing of the knife on the plate.

      OBJECTS: During the course of a meal the student will
demonstrate the ability to place the knife on the top right hand
side of the plate. This will be done in accordance with the
following criteria:

      1. With the handle of the knife over-lapping the edge of the
plate;

      2. Without the knife being pushed over or into the plate;

      3. Ensuring ease in relocating knife by using same position
each time.

      TECHNIQUE (Manual Dexterity): The student, during the course
of a meal, may decide he does not need the use of the knife. In
order to relocate the knife easily, it is suggested that it be
placed in the same position on the plate each time, e.g. across the
top right-hand corner of the plate, between a 12 o'clock and 3
o'clock position. [I might inject here that most of the plates I
deal with do not have corners but back to the text.]

      In order to achieve the above, the student will bring his
right hand to the right side edge of the plate-but will not allow
the knife to touch the table. The thumb will locate an approximate
3 o'clock position. The handle of the knife will be placed in this
position, with the tip of the hand slightly overlapping the edge of
the plate this allows the student to relocate the knife by running
his fingers along the outer edge of the plate and not placing his
hand into the plate.

      Safety Awareness: The student will attempt to retain a mental
picture of the position of the knife, as the fork, when being used,
may inadvertently push the knife from the plate.

      That is what it says, and for the life of me I cannot
understand the comment about safety. Moreover, one gets the
distinct impression that the author is speaking to a child,
programming a robot, or talking to a person who has never had
contact with civilization. When an individual becomes blind, that
individual does not automatically lose all of the knowledge and
abilities that he or she ever possessed; nor does the person become
retarded.

      But back to the book. What is said about the knife is no
worse than what is said about the spoon:

      TITLE: Demonstrating the use of a spoon for stirring.

      OBJECTIVE: When presented with a container of liquid and a
spoon the student will demonstrate the ability to use the spoon to
stir the liquid. This will be done in accordance with the following
criteria:

      1. By placing the spoon into the container without causing
the container to overturn or overflow;

      2. By introducing the  stirring motion  without the liquid
overflowing;

      3. By replacing the spoon in its original position without
disturbing other items.

      TECHNIQUE (Manual Dexterity): The student will hold the spoon
in the same manner as a soup spoon, except that it will be held
with the inner bowl facing the student's body and in a vertical
position when placed in the container. [I interrupt to wonder how
else except in a vertical position one could hold the spoon if the
container has any depth and if it is in an upright position with
its bottom on the table but back to the learned text.]

      If the container has a handle the student will grasp it
firmly. If the container does not have a handle the student will
place the thumb of the free hand over the top, side edge and the
remaining fingers will lie just below the thumb along the side of
the bowl. The spoon will be brought to the container and the bowl
of the spoon placed to the liquid.

      Finger Manipulation and Safety Awareness: The spoon will be
turned, usually clockwise motion, around the circumference of the
container, by a gentle circular motion of the wrist without
scraping the sides or bottom of the container. The spoon will then
be returned to its original position. If, however, the liquid is
thick, the handle of the spoon should be lightly tapped on the side
of the container to remove excess before returning to its original
position.

      NOTE: The instructor will hold her hand over the student's
and vice versa, and demonstrate the smoothness of the task. A
student low on concepts will probably require extensive practice to
achieve successful results.

      I find myself very nearly overwhelmed and also beset by a
number of questions. What if the she is a he? What if I don't want
to move the spoon in a clock-wise direction? What if I don't want
to grasp the handle of the container or drape my fingers over the
top side edge? It is enough to drive one to drink after, of course,
the spoon has been removed as a matter of safety.

      Remember that there is an entire book full of this idiocy and
that this is not an isolated but a typical example of what we are
getting from the agencies. Is it any wonder that the public is
reinforced in its misconceptions and that the blind (especially
blind children who grow up in the system or newly blind persons who
fall into its clutches) come to doubt their worth and belittle
their abilities!

      With this sort of madness coming not just from the public but
also from the agencies it is no wonder that blind persons
(especially those not having the perspective which is gained by the
information, the shared experiences, and the reinforcement which
come from membership in the National Federation of the Blind) often
develop offbeat and unrealistic devices for trying to gain prestige
and for not appearing to be like other blind people. There is the
Uncle Remus technique of pretending to be crafty and possessed of
special powers, which is typified by a quote attributed to a blind
man who was formerly in the Maryland legislature. In the article
concerning his death in the July 31, 1979, Baltimore Sun, this
passage appears:  As a legislator, he maintained that his blindness
was an aid as well as a handicap. He once told a reporter that he
developed an increased sense of hearing because of his loss of
sight, which he said allowed him to pick up word of political deals
being made far down a hall or across a committee room. 

      Of course, we know that such claims are utter nonsense,
playing on the credibility of the public and reinforcing and
feeding back to the sighted their own superstitions. Or perhaps the
man didn't say it at all. Maybe it was simply made up by the
reporter as a good line and a plausible story. Whichever way it
happened, this sort of thing does not achieve the objective of
making the blind seem more capable. It harms us and increases the
general notion of our abnormality.

      Then, there is another technique. In the May 10, 1984,
Washington Post there is an article headlined  Blind Student Seizes
Challenges.  The article details the accomplishments of a blind
student president of the student body, floor president of his
dormitory, administrative assistant to the College Democrats, and
a lot more of the same. In the midst of it all, this passage
occurs:  Schroeder lives in a house off campus with three other
students. He usually walks the 20 minutes from home to campus
alone. No dog, no cane, no guide. Using any of these aids would
mean `admitting that he is blind,' said Andrew Sherman, a good
friend. `And he doesn't envision himself as a blind person. He sees
himself as a person who is blind. '

      This is not independence. It is pathetic self-deception.
Again, it does not elevate the image or improve the standing of the
blind not even of the student in question. The very article we are
discussing proves the point by talking about how the student gets
lost and spends hours trying to find his way home, and how he is
very proud of not having to ask for help.

      So the circle is complete the misconceptions of the public,
the acceptance and strengthening of those misconceptions by the
agencies, the passthrough to the blind, and the feedback once more
to the public: each component reinforcing the myths and false
beliefs of the other and each using the other as authority. In such
circumstances is it any wonder that I recently received a letter
from an inventor who said that he had constructed a special toilet
paper holder for the blind and that he would like us to help him
market it? Is it any wonder that another inventor thinks the blind
cannot clean themselves at all and should only use toilet paper for
drying after being washed by the special spray he has constructed?
In his letter of October 25, 1983, the inventor says:  The blind
will really appreciate the use of the Hygeia cleaning because the
designed spray cleans quickly and thoroughly. Drying is complete by
only using a few sheets of tissue or a small cloth. 

      Is it any wonder that a man wrote to me a few months ago
saying that he would rather be dead than blind! In his own words: 
I have just been told I have the narrow type glaucoma that might
lead to an emergency. I'm scared. Please send any prevention data.
Couldn't live without eyesight. Wouldn't want to. 

      So what does it mean all of this analyzing of the circle of
sophistry about blindness, all of this talk about where we are and
where we have been? What is our present situation, and what lies
ahead? In the first place let us recognize that, with all of our
problems, we have it better today than we have ever had it before
in all of our history. In ancient times we were exposed to die on
the hillsides as babies. In the middle ages we were dressed in
donkey ears and forced to fight each other at country fairs for
public sport. In the early years of the present century we were
treated with more apparent kindness, but as we know, appearances
are not always what they seem. We were no longer put out to die on
the hillsides or forced to fight each other for the entertainment
of our neighbors, but the substance of public attitudes remained
the same. There were no jobs, no opportunities, and no hope.

      I know from personal experience (and so do many of the rest
of you) the pain and despair of continued isolation and nothing to
do. Some of us broke free. The rest remained captive some for a
lifetime, and some still existing. There comes a time when the
spirit dies and the body lives on. It is a close question as to
whether it is better to die as a child or continue to exist year
after year in the living death which many of the blind have
endured. Yes, I know the implications of the question; and no, I am
not exaggerating. I mean exactly and literally what I say.

      But, of course, our answer to the question is simple: we are
no longer willing to accept either one of these alternatives. We
have learned to be free, and we intend to keep it that way. We have
eaten at the table of liberty, and we will never again settle for
the crumbs on the floor.

      As our movement continues to strengthen, the circle of
sophistry weakens. There is much good will toward the blind, and
while it is true that some people resent our progress, most do not.
As they learn who we are and what we are, the majority join with
us. With the work of the Federation in South Dakota the Deadeye
Chapter of the Jaycees lasted for less than a year. Our television
and radio announcements blanket the airwaves, and we have had major
network coverage in recent months. We confront the airlines when
they try to make us take segregated seating. We find new jobs in
expanded areas of employment. Above all, an increasing number of us
are living our Federationism on a daily basis, knowing it to be our
passport to freedom. In the days ahead our task will not be easy.
We know it, and we are prepared. Whatever the sacrifice, we will
make it. Whatever the price, we will pay it. We must finish our
march to acceptance and full membership in society. Our heritage
requires it; our purpose proclaims it; our humanity demands it.
This cause of ours is a sacred trust. It is worthy of all that we
have or can ever hope to be and we shall not fail. My brothers and
my sisters, the future is ours. Come! Join me in the battle, and we
will make it all come true!

      Philosophy in Action

     In 1985 at the annual convention banquet Kenneth Jernigan
delivered what was to be his penultimate address as the
Federation's President. Speaking on the topic,  Blindness: The
Pattern of Freedom,  Jernigan drew the attention of his audience to
the parallels between the civil rights struggle of the 1960s,
involving the rising demands of blacks for freedom, and the civil
rights battle of the eighties, involving the rising demands of the
blind for freedom. It was, he said, in both cases, the same pattern
of freedom. With regard to the black movement,  As long as the law
made it impossible for them to buy or rent certain property,
required them to attend segregated schools, made them ride at the
back of the bus, and even said they must use separate water
fountains and toilets, all of the self-belief and public education
in the world would not be sufficient. They had to change the laws
and the interpretation of the laws, and they did change them. 

     And Jernigan went on to declare:  Our situation is parallel.
We must fight in the courts and the Congress. Judges order children
to be taken from blind parents on the ground that the blind cannot
raise them; airline officials tell us we cannot occupy exit row
seats and that we must sit on blankets for fear we cannot control
our bladders; insurance companies deny us coverage; amusement parks
refuse to let us ride; health clubs decline to let us in; and
employers routinely discriminate. Unless we can move toward equal
treatment under the law, self-belief and public education will not
be sufficient and cannot be sustained.  And he pointed out that the
changes in the law could not be accomplished without confrontation.

     President Jernigan's banquet address spelled out the full
context legal, moral, and political within which certain basic
rights were then being debated and would be decided: the right to
fly, the right to a chance for a decent education, the right to
bear and raise children, the right to receive training with the
special tools and techniques needed by the blind, the right to
equal opportunity to employment, and the right to be recognized and
accepted as normal human beings. It was truly a civil rights speech
in the great tradition of such orations and in that sense it evoked
and embodied the essential keynote of the organized blind movement.
It summarized the philosophy of freedom in practical terms
delineating the steps essential to the integration of a minority
into the broader society. It called for action, and demanded that
the philosophy of equality be made real. The keynote was freedom
and not merely in theory. Freedom means power to do specific things
power to be left alone, power to travel, power to sit where one
chooses, and power to become an element within the overall pattern
of freedom.

     Following is the text of the 1985 convention banquet address:

                BLINDNESS: THE PATTERN OF FREEDOM
                       by Kenneth Jernigan

      When the playful dawn came down to the sea, I ruffled its
hair with gladness. I saw the waves and flexed my soul in freedom.
Humanity comes through the optic nerve, And justice lives in the
eye. Not creed or law or politics But curvature and the nature of
light. The blind man yearns in a land apart, Slave though richest
king. Not for him the full broad sweep of mind and spirit  Dark the
channel, nerve and tissue; Long eternal through the night. Day
comes down to touch the ocean, And I stand up to look and live.
Books of science unromantic freedom's passport to the soul.<MI^>1

      When I first read that poem, I thought how literate, how
polished, how skillfully written how absolutely gross and totally
false. Poetry is the art of saying so much in so few words that
prose will not work as a means of expression. It does for language
what the computer does for science and what the aerial photograph
does for a landscape. On nothing more than a sheet of paper you can
do any calculation which the most up-to-date computer can do, but
if the problem is complex, you will do it more slowly so much so
that you will never live to finish it. You will not understand the
patterns and relationships or, for that matter, even know they
exist. They will be buried in minutiae and lost in delay. Likewise,
you can walk the earth and map a continent, but you can never see
its patterns and perspectives. There is too much detail, and it
will take too long to put it together.

      Poetry (properly used) cuts through verbiage and speaks to
the soul. Like the computer and the aerial photograph, it condenses
time and repeats patterns. But we must not be bamboozled. There is
no magic in sophisticated tools. They are only as good as our
understanding. Ancient astronomy predicted quite accurately the
course of the stars and the date of eclipses, but it was based on
the mistaken notion that the earth is flat and the center of the
universe. In the absence of understanding a computer would not have
brought enlightenment. It would only have reinforced the
misconceptions. Aerial photographs are equally subject to
misinterpretation. They give us data but not the wisdom to
comprehend it.

      Poetry is the same. It does not live in a vacuum but is built
on a frame of accepted values and assumed truths. Therefore, when
the poet tells us that humanity comes through the optic nerve and
justice lives in the eye when he speaks of freedom as a product of
sight he is not proclaiming new discoveries but repeating old
superstitions: our common heritage man's ancient fear of the dark,
the equation of sight with light and light with good. He is doing
what the perceptive poet always does. He is resolving
contradictions and distilling (whether true or false) the essence
of cultural consensus. He is going to the core of our inner being
and making us face what we truly believe.

      But, of course, an increasing number of us do not believe it.
In fact, it is not a question of belief. As we go about our
business from hour to hour and minute to minute, we know from
personal experience that it is false. Blindness does not mean
dehumanization. In our homes and our offices, in factories and
laboratories, on farms and in universities, in places of recreation
and forums of civic accomplishment we live the refutation of it
every day. While it is true that seventy percent of us do not have
jobs and that all of us are routinely treated like children and
wards, it is equally true that thirty percent of us have jobs and
that all of us are coming to realize that the problem is not
blindness but mistaken attitudes. If even one of us can be a
scientist (and many of us are), that does not prove that if an
individual is blind he or she can be a scientist, but it does prove
that blindness will not prevent a person from being a scientist. In
short, it proves that blindness is not the barrier.

      Sight is enjoyable; it is useful; it is convenient. But that
is all that it is enjoyable, useful, and convenient. Except in
imagination and mythology it is not more than that. It does not
have mysterious psychological implications; and it is not the
single key to happiness, the road to knowledge, or the window to
the soul. Like the other senses, it is a channel of communication,
a source of pleasure, and a tool nothing less, nothing more. It is
alternative, not exclusive. It is certainly not the essential
component of human freedom. The urge to liberty and the need to be
free are commodities of the spirit, not the senses. They divide
civilization from savagery and human beings from animals.

      Liberty has been the focal point of more study and comment
than perhaps any other idea which has ever troubled, motivated, and
inspired mankind. It is the stuff of dreams, not optic nerves and
eyeballs. The effort is always to understand and, by so doing, make
life better and more in tune with ultimate reality a combination of
bread and the prayer book, food for the body and food for the soul.

      Liberty and freedom. Two words, one concept. Always noble,
always imposing ever the dream, ever the mover of nations. And
while we cannot capture freedom in a rigid cage, we can describe
it, seek it, and recognize its transcendent power. 

      Harold Laski said:  We acquiesce in the loss of freedom every
time we are silent in the face of injustice. 

      Daniel Webster said:  God grants liberty only to those who
love it, and are always ready to guard and defend it. 

      Benjamin Franklin said:  They that give up essential liberty
to obtain a little temporary safety deserve neither liberty nor
safety. 

      Samuel Adams said:  If you love wealth better than liberty,
the tranquillity of servitude better than the animating contest of
freedom, go home from us in peace.  

      John Dewey said:  Liberty is not just an idea, an abstract
principle. It is power, effective power to do specific things.
There is no such thing as liberty in general; liberty, so to speak,
at large. 

      Cicero said:  Freedom is participation in power. 

      Herbert J. Muller said:  Freedom is the condition of being
able to choose and to carry out purpose. 

      Herbert Spencer said:  No one can be perfectly free until all
are free. No one can be perfectly moral until all are moral. 

      The nineteenth-century German writer Max Stirner said: 
Freedom cannot be granted. It must be taken. 

      Walter Lippmann said:  Men cannot be made free by laws unless
they are in fact free because no man can buy and no man can coerce
them. That is why the Englishman's belief that his home is his
castle and that the king cannot enter it, like the American's
conviction that he must be able to look any man in the eye and tell
him to go to hell, are the very essence of the free man's way of
life. 

      So the tapestry of freedom is constantly being woven, and we
are part of the fabric; but there is something beyond. There always
is. Each minority has its separate pattern, its road to freedom,
its task to be done. And for the blind that task is monumental. It
is nothing less than the total redirection of society's effort and
perception for we are not patients, and (contrary to popular
belief) our problem is not lack of eyesight or inability to
perform.

      What we need most is not, as the professionals would have it,
medical help or psychological counseling but admission to the main
channels of daily life and citizenship, not custody and care but
understanding and acceptance. Above all, what we need is not more
government programs or private charitable efforts. Instead, we want
jobs, opportunity, and full participation in society. Give us that,
and we will do the rest for ourselves. Give us jobs, equal
treatment, and a solid economic base; and we will do without the
counseling, the sheltered workshops, and the social programs. We
will not need them. We have the same medical, vocational, social,
and recreational needs as others; but our blindness does not create
those needs, and it does not magnify or enlarge them. It does not
make them special or different. We are neither more nor less than
normal people who cannot see, and that is how we intend to be
treated. We want no strife or confrontation, but we have learned
the power of collective action, and we will do what we have to do
to achieve first-class status. We are simply no longer willing to
be second-class citizens.

      When the National Federation of the Blind came into being in
1940, the means were limited and the numbers few, but the goal was
clear. Today (almost fifty years later when we have tens of
thousands of members and are the strongest presence in the affairs
of the blind) the purpose is unchanged. It is exactly what it was
in 1940. It can be told in a sentence. We want freedom jobs, homes,
the chance to succeed or fail on our own merit, access to places of
public accommodation, interdependence with our neighbors, and full
participation in society. The words are easy, but the fact has been
long delayed. From the dawn of history blind men and women have
worked and hoped and waited, but only in recent years (only with
the coming of the National Federation of the Blind) has our dream
approached reality. And now the waiting is over. Yes, we have
waited oh, God, how we have waited! but never again! No more! In
this generation our time has finally come for we are determined at
long last to live the truth of what we are, and not what others
think we are or try to make us become or believe. As Cicero said: 
Freedom is participation in power.  And as Max Stirner said: 
Freedom cannot be granted. It must be taken. 

      There are four essential elements in the pattern of our
freedom. Each has a different part to play, and each is necessary.
They blend to form a tapestry, which can never be finished without
the composite.

      The first and most important of these elements is internal.
It is what we believe and become within ourselves. The second is
public education. The third is the law. The fourth is
confrontation. Other people tend to treat and value us as we treat
and value ourselves. In matters of the spirit, before a thing can
become reality, we must believe it; and before we can believe it,
we must say we believe it.

      We say we are as good as the sighted, able to compete with
them on terms of equality. We say that we deserve all of the
privileges and responsibilities of citizenship and that we are
capable of exercising them. We say that it is respectable to be
blind. When the time comes that a majority of us know for a
certainty within ourselves that these things are true (know it so
surely that we act and live it every day and do not even need to
think about it or question it), our battle will largely be won.

      Walter Stromer is a blind professor. He lives in a small town
in Iowa and teaches at the local college. He is thought of by his
colleagues and students as successful, quite successful and he
doubtless shares that opinion. But do his associates think of him
as successful measured by others on the campus, or only by the
standard of what they think a blind person can do and can be
expected to do? Which standard does Dr. Stromer use? For that
matter, does he even know that there are different standards? Does
he perhaps enjoy being thought of as remarkable, unusual,
inspiring, and brave failing to realize that he has made a bad
bargain and that the eye is not freedom's passport to the soul?

      A number of years ago Stromer appeared on a panel to discuss
the meaning of blindness, and as a result he published a paper
entitled  One Day In The Life of Me.  Speaking of his early morning
radio listening, he says:  Fortunately the station I listen to most
is near the end of the dial. Finding stations in the middle of the
dial can be a problem unless you know exactly what program to
listen for. 

      Progressing to the time of departure for work, he says:  Just
before I leave for class I remember I forgot to have my wife record
the grades for the speeches made yesterday. I could do it in
Braille, but it would be most tedious and time-consuming. 

      In further reference to Braille he says:  Looking for one
sheet of paper in a stack is not bad when you can see; it's
maddeningly slow when you have to run your fingers over the first
dots of every sheet to figure out what it is. 

      As he leaves the house, he says:  But finally I'm off to
school, after pausing in the door for a minute to try to remember
if I've got everything. Others do that, too, but they can see
things lying on the chair or table, to remind them to take along;
with me it has to be a more conscious mental effort. Which explains
of course why I'm so alert, because I have to use my brain more,
which is what keeps it sharp, or wears it to a frazzle. 

      His thoughts as he goes from home to campus are in the same
vein:  Walking to school is fairly relaxing,  he says.  At least
once a week I try to remember to be grateful for not having to
fight the noise and congestion of the city.  What a melodramatic
piece of self-pity! Many people prefer small towns to cities, but
I wonder how many of them are able to work blindness and pathos
into it. After all, the city has advantages, too and you could
probably get blindness into that as well if you put your mind to
it.

      And how does Stromer feel about his teaching? He says:  In a
few minutes I'm in class. After twenty-two years I'm fairly
comfortable. 

      After all of this tension and heavy introspection, it is only
natural that Stromer feels tense and a little weary. A
counteractant might be in order.  Home to lunch now,  he says. 
Just a good eight-minute walk, downhill all the way. A small glass
of wine, a short nap, maybe only five minutes, and then lunch and
I'm ready for the afternoon. I stretch out for a nap before supper.
I wonder if all blind people need those naps as much as I do. I
think I'm fairly relaxed, but I'm sure an average day takes more
nervous energy out of me than it does out of somebody with good
vision, because so many things that sighted people can do without
thinking, I have to do with a good bit of conscious effort. 

      Stromer is not a phony. He believes it and his associates
believe it. But it is false to the core. It is what I call  The
Stromer Syndrome.  His neighbors think (within the limits, of
course, of common sense and what they believe a blind person can
do) that he is wonderful. They make of him a conversation piece.
They tell him, each other, and anybody else who will listen that he
is witty, accomplished, and inspiring. He uses the same words we
use independence, understanding, realistic approach to blindness,
full participation in society, and all of the rest but he does not
mean what we mean. In his daily life and thinking he exemplifies
almost every misconception about the inferiority and helplessness
of the blind that I have ever heard: Blind people have difficulty
tuning in radio stations. Braille is tedious and ineffective. It
cannot be scanned. Blind people have more trouble than others
remembering what to take to work. This makes their minds alert.
They meet their problems with humor. They are grateful to live in
a small town to avoid the congestion of cities. After twenty-two
years they are fairly comfortable teaching. They have more tensions
than others and, therefore, require more naps, and a little wine.

      Stromer undoubtedly feels that his attitudes and behavior are
a plus in the struggle of the blind for advancement, but every day
his influence is negative. Society (knowing nothing about
blindness) has made him what he is and taught him its values. Now,
he returns the compliment. He reinforces the misconceptions and
teaches society. If his situation was unique (if the  Stromer
Syndrome  was personal to the man), it would hardly be worth our
attention. We would simply turn our heads in pity and embarrassment
and let it go at that. But it is not personal. It is endemic and
generic. It has dogged the heels of every minority that has ever
walked the road to freedom. How many blacks in the early part of
this century tried to straighten their hair and look white? How
many laughed, shuffled their feet, and played Amos and Andy to fit
the mold of the times? Even more to the point, how many secretly
thought the role they were given was just and proper? All of them
some of the time, and some of them all of the time. The incentive
to believe was overwhelming. Every day they were rewarded for
conforming and punished for objecting. Believing, they lived the
myth and helped it come true and both they and society were
diminished accordingly. As Herbert Spencer said:  No one can be
perfectly free until all are free. No one can be perfectly moral
until all are moral.  Only when a majority of the blacks came to
realize that no imagined advantage, no immediate gain, and no
avoidance of punishment could take the place of the privileges and,
for that matter, the pains and responsibilities of first-class
status did they begin to experience fulfillment and, then, the
world changed.

      As it was with the blacks, so it is with the blind. We are
part of the general culture, and the pressure to believe and
conform is constantly with us. It all comes together in a single
sentence in a letter I recently received from a man in Ohio. After
telling me that he was losing his sight, he said:  I believe I
would rather be dead than blind.  Consider the capacity for
enjoyment and productive work and the level of daily activity of
the average member of the National Federation of the Blind, and ask
yourself whether you believe this man's opinion results from dire
predicament or cultural conditioning.

      Sometimes, of course, the blind person's acceptance of the
stereotype is not just conditioning but an attempt (whether
conscious or otherwise) to use it for advantage. Phillip Mangold is
a blind man who lives in California. In 1980 he wrote a booklet
called: The Pleasure of Eating for Those Who Are Visually Impaired.
We do not have to go beyond the title to find the problem. There is
pleasure in eating, and those who are blind eat; but to imply that
there is a connection is a distortion and a disservice. It plays
upon the notion that the blind are mysteriously different from the
sighted and that we require expert help (presumably from Mr.
Mangold) to do the simplest task. His appeal to the public's fears
and misconceptions may sell his booklet and promote his employment,
but (whether he knows it or not) the price is too high and the
bargain bad. When we consider public education (the second of the
four essential components in our pattern of freedom), we are
reminded again that none of the four stands alone. They overlap and
interweave to form a composite. What the blind believe about
themselves, they teach to the public; and what the public believes
conditions the blind. Not only individuals but also organizations
may have negative impact and mistaken attitudes. The American
Council of the Blind is a prime example.

      Its state affiliate, the Missouri Council of the Blind, plans
to hold its 1985 convention in St. Joseph. Carolyn Anderson,
secretary-treasurer of the local chapter of the Missouri Council of
the Blind, talked to the St. Joseph News-Press about the matter
last fall. In an article appearing October 28, 1984, she says:  We
have a commitment from Boy Scouts who are working on merit badges
to serve as volunteer guides when needed by a delegate. Free
transportation from both bus stations to the hotel has been
arranged. And, since there is no day or night for the blind, the
hotel is even providing for food service in case someone decides
it's breakfast time at 2 in the morning. 

      If we did not know the philosophy of the American Council of
the Blind, we might be astonished. As it is, we accept this
statement as standard procedure simply another obstacle to overcome
on our road to freedom. In an article captioned  Blind But Not Dumb 
which appeared in the St. Joseph News-Press of November 20, 1984,
Beryl Gordon (our local NFB president) tried to mitigate the
damage. He said:

      Often I am asked, `Why can't organizations of and for the
blind get together? They are all working toward the same thing,
aren't they?' This is a very hard question to answer in one short
sentence, and until you see something in the newspaper such as I
have recently read you don't even try.

      A member of the Missouri Council of the Blind was quoted as
saying that since there is no day or night for the blind, the hotel
where they will be holding their 1985 convention will be providing
food service in case one of them would decide it was breakfast time
at 2:00 a.m.

      Can you just imagine what life would be like for the blind if
all of us believed something this ignorant? Can you imagine what
potential employers might think when reading something this
degrading about blind persons' intelligence?

      It's no wonder we can't find jobs. It is no wonder public
facilities do not want us to come in. It is no wonder others have
the attitude that we need to be taken care of.

      In case you think Ms. Anderson was misquoted by the reporter,
listen to her answer in the News-Press of November 29, 1984. She
says:  As usual, the National Federation of the Blind misinterprets
and twists things for their own purposes. We believe the NFB
confronts everything with rudeness, abruptness and
single-mindedness. Such negative reactions make it more difficult
for those of us trying to work in a positive way. We try to deal
with local businesses, officials and the public without considering
them to be our enemies. Focusing our efforts on the good and the
positive and remembering with gratitude the help we get from the
sighted in our community, we have improved our outlook. We try to
keep a sense of humor and look at life's inconveniences with some
amount of laughter. Perhaps the NFB should try this and not be
critical of other people and their efforts. 

      Whatever else may be said, Carolyn Anderson and Beryl Gordon
are not working for the same thing. In one sense, of course, she is
right: We could laugh at ourselves, be grateful for whatever we
get, and accept the stereotype but the price is too high. Such
conduct translates into exclusion from employment, custodial
treatment, and second-class status; and it also blights the spirit
and shrivels the soul for whatever we live and believe, that we
surely become.

      And we are not just dealing with generalities. It is not
simply a matter of being nice or saving feelings. To the extent
that we fail to find a way to educate the public, lack the courage
to provide that education even in the face of hostility, or are
unable to understand our true potential, we and all other blind
people suffer. I recently received a letter from the sighted mother
of an adopted blind child expressing appreciation for our
literature and encouragement:  My daughter Shelly,  she said,  is
now eleven years old. She is fully integrated in a local school and
has learned to read and write Braille.

       Six years ago, when we adopted her, she was a `potential
unknown,' high-risk adoption case. We took her out of a small
institution, where she had lived all of her life. She had spent
most of her time confined to a large hospital-sized crib, with no
stimulation and little human contact. She was in diapers and ate
only pureed baby food, which had to be fed to her. In the past six
years this same child has become bilingual, is in her third year of
piano lessons, skates, swims, rides a double bike, reads and
writes, and is no longer a `potential unknown' but rather a child
of great potential. 

      So writes this sighted mother, and her words give us
perspective. It is not pleasant to disagree with others and take
public stands, but sometimes the alternative is worse. We do not
regard our neighbors as enemies, but this does not mean that we are
willing to submit to diapers and pureed baby food. It does not mean
that we are willing to accept slavery even if the slavery is gently
offered, kindly meant, and well-intentioned. As John Dewey said: 
Liberty is not just an idea, an abstract principle. It is power,
effective power to do specific things.  And as Benjamin Franklin
said:  They that give up essential liberty to obtain a little
temporary safety deserve neither liberty nor safety.  We want no
strife or confrontation, but we are not willing to give up
essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety. We have
learned the power of collective action, and we will do what we have
to do. We are simply no longer willing to be second-class citizens.

      The need for public education is everywhere apparent. The
fact is typified by an article appearing in the Omaha World-Herald
of December 5, 1984. Headlined  Donations Pay for Glasses for Needy
During the Year,  the article says:  Detecting and solving vision
problems are important in the proper development of children, said
Dr. Matilda McIntire, director of community pediatrics at Creighton
University. That is why the cooperative effort of The World-Herald
Good Fellows and Creighton is valuable to the community,  she said. 
We feel very strongly that a child cannot learn if he cannot see. 

      To which we reply, thousands of us grew up as blind children
and have achieved a moderate degree of literacy and success. If Dr.
McIntire is right, I wonder how we did it.

      Early this year I received a letter from one P. F. Membrey,
who described himself as the director of CAPEX, a product
consulting and export firm from London, England. He said,
concerning a new Braille-Writer which he wished to sell:  Following
its recent introduction to the United Kingdom market, CAPEX have
been appointed sole distribution agents for this unique product.
Accordingly, we are now able to supply the BRAILLEWRITER to those
institutions or individuals who work with or have care of blind or
partially sighted people.  Mr. Membrey, Carolyn Anderson, and Dr.
Stromer would probably say we are nit-picking, but people usually
say what they mean even if they do not mean to say what they say.
The orientation which (whether inadvertently or not) leads to talk
of selling a product to  institutions or individuals who have care
of blind or partially sighted people  is destructive and damaging.
We must observe it, reject it, and attack it not only for public
enlightenment but for our own self-respect. As Harold Laski said: 
We acquiesce in the loss of freedom every time we are silent in the
face of injustice.  We want no strife or confrontation, but we are
simply no longer willing to be second-class citizens.

      The need for public education about blindness is repeatedly
demonstrated. Emotional newspaper articles appear telling about
sighted people who blindfold themselves to know what it is like to
be blind; the National Geographic talks about an inchworm  groping
along slowly, reminiscent of a blind man with a cane, 2 and in a
descriptive brochure Ewing Mays (the founder of Mays Mission for
the Handicapped) says:  Every day there are handicapped people here
training handicapped people one amputee working with another
amputee, one deaf person training another deaf person, and even a
blind person guiding another blind person.  The operative word, of
course, is  even.  Why  even ? In that one word is summed up the
prejudice of centuries a way of life and a system we are determined
to change.

      And we are changing the system. We are heightening our own
self-awareness and conducting extensive campaigns of public
education but this is not enough. We must deal with the legal
system and the law. Again, let us consider the blacks. Before they
could begin to achieve equality, they had to build an image within
themselves. That was the first and most important thing. Then, they
had to educate the public, for they could not exist in a vacuum or
live what the culture would not accept. But they also had to do
something else. As long as the law made it impossible for them to
buy or rent certain property, required them to attend segregated
schools, made them ride in the back of the bus, and even said they
must use separate water fountains and bathrooms, all of the
self-belief and public education in the world would not be
sufficient. They had to change the laws and the interpretation of
the laws, and they did change them.

      Our situation is parallel. We must fight in the courts and
the Congress. Judges order children to be taken from blind parents
on the ground that the blind cannot raise them; airline officials
tell us we cannot occupy exit row seating and that we must sit on
blankets for fear we cannot control our bladders; insurance
companies deny us coverage; amusement parks refuse to let us ride;
health clubs decline to let us in; and employers routinely
discriminate. Unless we can move toward equal treatment under the
law, self-belief and public education will not be sufficient and
cannot be sustained. And, of course, we are making headway. Through
court action we have repeatedly restored blind children to their
parents. We have persuaded Congress and the state legislatures to
expand opportunities and remove discrimination and we currently
have at least a dozen lawsuits under way.

      Let anyone who believes we can live with the law as it is
presently written consider the following section of the Tennessee
Code:  Section 22-1-102. Incompetent persons. Persons convicted of
certain infamous offenses specially designated in this code,
persons of unsound mind, persons not in the full possession of
their senses of hearing and seeing, and habitual drunkards are
incompetent to act as jurors. 

      That section of the Code is the law in Tennessee at this very
moment. John Robb, a blind Tennessean, served on a jury in
Nashville last year, but he did it on sufferance and at the whim of
the judge. The Tennessee jury law is not only degrading it is false
in its premises. Today we are striking down such laws in state
after state, and an increasing number of us are proving their
absurdity by serving on juries. I did it myself last year.

      As we make progress in reforming the law and getting new
interpretations by the courts, we strengthen our self-belief and
educate the public. Self-belief, public education, and the law
these three elements intertwine and overlap. But something else is
required the fourth element, confrontation. What minority has ever
gone from second-class status to first-class citizenship without
it? What minority could? As we come to feel that we deserve
equality, we increasingly resist coercion. But it goes beyond that.
Unless we are willing to be absolutely docile and totally
self-effacing, confrontation is inevitable. In this connection our
experience with the airlines is instructive. They deal with us in
an arbitrary, capricious, and custodial manner. If we are willing
to be humiliated publicly and handled like children, airline
personnel will generally treat us fairly well. Otherwise, we are
likely to be subjected to anything from a tongue lashing to a trip
off the plane with the police.

      A few months ago a blind woman in the state of Washington was
plopped down on a blanket in an airplane seat, told by airline
personnel that she must sit there, and loudly and publicly informed
by the flight attendant that, as the attendant put it, it was not
because she might  wet  her  pants  but so that in case of
emergency she could be quickly lifted onto the evacuation slide.
Explaining that she was quite mobile and unwilling to endure such
treatment, the blind woman vocally refused to sit on the blanket
and pushed it onto the floor. Later she brought a legal action
against the airline and was given monetary damages and an apology.
But if she had meekly followed orders, the lawsuit would never have
been filed. She would have been humiliated and  put down,  and her
self-esteem and the public image would have suffered accordingly.
But in objecting she created hostility and might have been
arrested. If we intend to stand up for our rights at all, we can
simply not avoid a certain amount of confrontation.

      Mike Uribes is one of our members in Fresno, California. Not
long ago his chapter president had occasion to write the following
letter to a Fresno business establishment:

      On December 19, Mr. Michael Uribes, a blind Fresno resident,
while shopping in your mall, was approached by one of your security
employees, Mr. Tim Levinson.

      Mr. Levinson asked Mr. Uribes if he needed any assistance.
Mr. Uribes responded that he did not. However, Mr. Levinson
proceeded to follow Mr. Uribes through the mall and a couple of
times even put his hand on Mr. Uribes's arm. Again, Mr. Uribes
stated that he really did not need any assistance and thanked Mr.
Levinson for his offer. Mr. Levinson walked away indignantly
saying,  Those damned blind people! They sure are arrogant. 

      If Mr. Uribes had been a sighted person, this incident would
not have happened.

      Mr. Uribes has lived in Fresno all of his life and has been
shopping without aid in your mall for at least twelve years. He
travels independently.

      Mr. Uribes is a member of the National Federation of the
Blind of Fresno, which is affiliated with a state and national
organization of the same name. Blind persons have the same rights
and responsibilities as the sighted and wish to be treated as
first-class citizens.

      In writing that letter our Fresno president undoubtedly
created hostility, but what was she to do? For that matter, what
was Mike Uribes to do? He could have avoided confrontation by
meekly doing as he was told and allowing himself to be led around
the store at Mr. Levinson's whim. By taking Mr. Uribes's arm when
he was asked not to do so, Mr. Levinson committed a battery and
violated the law; but public sentiment being what it is, he was
probably never in danger of being prosecuted. However, what if Mr.
Uribes had responded in kind? What if he had shown as much bad
temper as Mr. Levinson did? Can we always be sure that the blind
person will be cool, polite, level-headed, long-suffering, and
patient even if the sighted person is not? In fact, is that what we
want?

      As Walter Lippman said:  Men cannot be made free by laws
unless they are in fact free because no man can buy and no man can
coerce them. That is why the Englishman's belief that his home is
his castle and that the king cannot enter it, like the American's
conviction that he must be able to look any man in the eye and tell
him to go to hell, are the very essence of the free man's way of
life. 

      Is that sort of thing all right (in fact, praiseworthy) for
the sighted but not all right for the blind? And what does Lippman
mean when he says that no man can coerce you if you are truly free?
Does he mean that it is all right for the sighted to resist
coercion even if it means looking somebody in the eye and telling
him to go to hell even if it means using necessary force but that
it is not all right for the blind? Is Lippman's pronouncement meant
only for everybody else or does it include us, too? Can blind
people hope to be free Americans? We gave our answer to that
question almost fifty years ago. We formed the National Federation
of the Blind and it is still here, stronger and more active today
than every before in its history.

      It is not only the  Stromer Syndrome  which is arrayed
against us. It is also the  be grateful and do as I tell you, or
I'll call you militant  syndrome. Let those who oppose our march to
freedom call us what they please and say what they like. We will
not grovel; we will not pretend that right is wrong; and we will
not turn back from the course we have set. No, we do not want
strife and confrontation and yes, we prefer peace and reason. But
we know the power of collective action, and we will do what we have
to do. We are simply no longer willing to be second-class citizens.

      Self-belief, public education, the law, and confrontation
these are the elements in the pattern of our freedom, and each is
necessary. They overlap and interweave, and if anyone of them is
omitted, all of the rest become meaningless and impossible. Because
of the work of the National Federation of the Blind, we who are
blind have it better today than ever before in our history, and the
hostility we face is not a cause for dejection but an omen of
victory; for until a minority is close to its goal, confrontation
is neither achievable nor useful. Earlier it is impossible, and
later it is unnecessary.

      The beginning strands of the pattern of freedom are always
woven by slaves, and we have known slavery. Some of us still endure
it, and none of us has totally escaped it. A few of us are so
immersed in it that we even say we like it and do not know another
way exists. But the National Federation of the Blind is abroad in
the land, and the blind are learning new ways. We hear the
statements of freedom, and they call to our souls and quicken our
dreams:

       If,  said Samuel Adams,  you love wealth better than
liberty, the tranquility of servitude better than the animating
contest of freedom, go home from us in peace. 

       They that give up essential liberty,  said Benjamin
Franklin,  to obtain a little temporary safety deserve neither
liberty nor safety. 

       Freedom,  said Max Stirner,  cannot be granted. It must be
taken. 

      We hear, and we understand. We know what we must do, and we
have counted the cost. We fight not only for ourselves but also for
those who went before us, for Dr. tenBroek and the other founders
of our movement and for those who come after, the blind of the next
generation, the children and the children to be. And we will not
fail. The stakes are too high and the alternative too terrible.
Tomorrow is bright with promise. We go to meet it with gladness:
And we take with us all that we have our hopes and our dreams, our
will to work and our knowledge of deprivation, our faith and our
purpose, and our heritage of slavery. And this also we take our
trust in ourselves, our love for each other, and our belief in the
ultimate goodness of people. My brothers and my sisters, the future
is ours! Come, join me! and we will march together to freedom!

     FOOTNOTES

1. This poem was copied from a wall in New York City in 1985.

2. National Geographic, August, 1983, p. 222.


        Departure and the Coming of the Third Generation

     Presidential terms are for two years in the National
Federation of the Blind. In 1984 President Jernigan had told the
delegates that while he intended to stand for election that year,
he would definitely not be a candidate in 1990. He left open the
question as to whether he would stand for election in 1988 or even
1986. In 1985 he told the convention that he would not be a
candidate in 1986. He said he felt that many organizations
destroyed themselves by not planning for an orderly succession to
their top offices and, particularly, by not allowing for a long
enough period of transition in the change of executives.

     This was a subject which Jernigan had been discussing at the
leadership seminars from the time of the mid-seventies. He felt
that he should step aside as President some time during the
mid-eighties and then assist in the training of a new leader. The
membership repeatedly and overwhelmingly expressed its wish that he
continue as President, but in 1985 he announced that a new
President must be elected in 1986.

     He told the convention delegates that he intended to support
Marc Maurer for the presidency in 1986 and that he was making his
feelings known so that anyone who had other ideas would have time
and opportunity to promote other candidates. In 1986 Maurer was
unanimously elected, and the Jernigan presidency ended. Shortly
thereafter, Jernigan accepted the unsalaried position of Executive
Director of the Federation, working through the remainder of the
decade to assist the new President in the duties of the office.

     At the 1986 convention, one year after describing the  Pattern
of Freedom,  Kenneth Jernigan made his final banquet speech as
President to the convention of the National Federation of the
Blind. This final summation, entitled,  Blindness: The Coming of
the Third Generation,  spoke of the urgent need for self expression
of the blind in the context of the fourth dimension time. The
striving of blind people to make themselves heard through the
organized blind movement had been proceeding for forty-six years.
How could the spirit of independence and the urgency and immediacy
of the need be kept alive and poignant for the decades ahead? What
could be expected to be built on the solid and substantial
foundation of philosophy and practice developed in the Federation
from its beginning? These questions were central to the final
banquet address of the Jernigan presidency, delivered in Kansas
City, Missouri, on July 3, 1986.

     Many organizations (and some countries) have ceased to be
significant because their leaders have failed to consider the
effects of time. But in the Federation plans had been made for the
third generation, the fourth generation, and the fourth dimension.
The maturity of the organized blind movement can be seen by the
degree of care that it gave in planning for the decades to come. As
Jernigan said:  The progress of a people toward civilization can
probably best be measured by the degree to which it is concerned
with time.  The 1986 banquet speech follows:

          BLINDNESS: THE COMING OF THE THIRD GENERATION
                       by Kenneth Jernigan

       Go, sir,  said Napoleon to an aide.  Gallop! And don't
forget that the world was made in six days. You can ask me for
anything you like except time. 

      Time [said Sir Walter Scott] will rust the sharpest sword,
Time will consume the strongest cord; That which molders hemp and
steel, Mortal arm and nerve must feel.

      T. S. Eliot said:  Time present and time past are both
perhaps present in time future, and time future is contained in
time past. 

      Plato said,  Time is the image of eternity ; and Pythagoras
said,  Time is the soul of the world. 

      Sir Francis Bacon said,  What we call the age of antiquity
is, in reality, the youth of the world. These times are the ancient
times, when the world is ancient, and not those which we call
ancient by a computation backward from ourselves. 

      The progress of a people toward civilization can probably
best be measured by the degree to which it is concerned with time.
Primitive cultures treat time casually, day slipping into day and
season into season with grand imprecision; but when the calendar
comes, medicine and mathematics come and soon come poetry, art, and
compassion.

      Mathematics and concepts of time are, of course, involved in
the making of terrible weapons and vicious systems of torture and
control, but the urge to kill and the compulsion to maim are not
products of science and learning. Exactly the opposite. They come
from earlier times and are softened by technology and civilization.
While it is true that Adolph Hitler tortured Jews, it is equally
true that Good King Richard in Medieval England did likewise. His
agents, on one occasion, rounded up all the Jews they could find,
locked them in a large building, set it on fire, and burned it.
Yet, King Richard was regarded as good and universally admired,
while Hitler was regarded as evil and universally condemned. The
difference can be found in the culture. In the Middle Ages King
Richard's behavior was so commonplace as to go without remark; in
the twentieth century, only 700 years later, Hitler's behavior (in
many respects the same behavior) was so noteworthy as to provoke
worldwide outrage and revulsion.

      Time is not only a yardstick of civilization but also a
dimension of intelligence. Viewed in the present, intelligence is
three-dimensional. To the extent one can change the environment, to
the extent (when this is not possible) one can adapt to the
environment, and to the extent one knows when to do which to that
extent one is intelligent. When time is added, we have the fourth
dimension, and we call it maturity. To the extent one ranges
backward in time to understand the causes of present conditions,
and to the extent one ranges forward to anticipate future
consequences of present acts, one is mature. Maturity is
intelligence in depth.

      The National Federation of the Blind was founded in 1940. I
joined in 1949, during the first decade of the movement. In the
1950s (the second decade of the movement) I became a state
president and a national board member. In the 1960s (the third
decade of the movement) our founder, Dr. tenBroek, died; and I was
elected President. In the 1970s (the fourth decade of the movement)
I began conducting regular leadership seminars; we achieved the
goal of having chapters and affiliates in every state; and I moved
from Des Moines to Baltimore to establish the National Center for
the Blind. In the 1980s (the fifth decade of the movement) I was
present with many of you at a convention (the one last year in
Louisville) attended by over 2,000 registered delegates. It was the
largest gathering of blind people ever held in the history of the
world. At the present convention (in 1986) I cease being President.
Let me, then, from the vantage of the years, talk to you about our
movement.

      I attended my first National Federation of the Blind
convention in 1952. I have never missed one since, so this is my
thirty-fifth consecutive convention. What shall I say to you on
this last night of my presidency what that I have not already said
many times before? Perhaps we should test the fourth dimension of
our intelligence by ranging backward and forward in time. This is
1986. The Federation is forty-six years old. Let us divide that
time into two twenty-three-year periods and consider each of them.
Let us also consider the next twenty-three years. What will it be
like for the blind and for this organization in the year 2009? What
will the new century bring?

      When the National Federation of the Blind came into being in
1940, the situation was about as bleak as it could possibly be. It
was good enough to make the blind hope, and bad enough to kill the
hope. Those few who broke out of the system to gain recognition and
success did not, for the most part, really break out of the system
at all. Their failure can be summarized in a single false concept: 
I have made it on my own, without any help from anybody.  They
shunned other blind people pretending not to think about blindness
at all and dismissing the subject (when they could not avoid it)
with so-called  humor  or embarrassment. They made an outward show
(reinforced by family and friends) of being superior and not like
other blind people. Simultaneously they had an inner fear (in fact,
at times a certainty) that they were exactly like other blind
people at least, exactly like what they thought blind people were
like-just as inferior, just as dependent, and just as inadequate.
They felt complimented when a sighted person said:  You do things
so well that I forget you are blind and think of you as being just
like the rest of us.  I say this not to condemn those blind people
(indeed, some of them are still with us) but to catalog their
behavior. Not censure but understanding is required.

      Most of the apparently  successful  pre-1940 blind people
were taken over by the agencies and placed in positions of high
visibility, either on the staff or the board. If their function had
been to guide or oversee, the results could have been healthy and
constructive, but the time was not right, the perspective not
sufficient, the culture not ready. As it was, the  successful 
blind of that day were (for the most part) fronts and puppets for
the agencies. Those who did not join the agencies tended to shun
their fellow blind. That some of them neither succumbed to the
agencies nor tried to hide in sighted society is a greater
testimonial to their spirit and maturity than has usually been
recognized.

      From the ranks of such as these came the founders of our
movement. When Dr. Jacobus tenBroek and the handful who joined with
him organized the National Federation of the Blind in 1940, they
did what every minority does on its road to freedom. They shifted
emphasis from the few to the many, from enhancement to basics. In
the pre-1940 era those who thought about blindness at all (the
blind as well as the sighted) put their major effort into helping
the gifted and promoting the exceptional. The Federation took a
different course. It started with the premise that until there are
food, decent clothing, and adequate shelter, there can be no
meaningful rehabilitation, real opportunity, or human dignity. It
was not that the few or the superior were to be neglected but
rather a recognition that none can be free as long as any are
enslaved. The Federation's top priority in the early 1940s was to
get (not as charity but as a right) sufficient public assistance to
provide a basic standard of living for the blind who had no way to
provide for themselves.

      There was something else: The Federation said that the blind
had the right to speak for themselves through their own
organization and that no other group or individual (regardless of
how well-intentioned) could do it for them whether public agency,
private charity, blind person prominent in the community, or blind
person heading an agency. The right was exclusive, and only those
elected by the blind could speak for the blind. The test was not
blindness, and it was certainly not connection with an agency.
Instead, it was representative democracy and self-determination.
That is what we stood for in 1940; that is what we stand for today;
and that is what we will stand for in the year 2009. From the
beginning there has been opposition to this concept from members of
the general public, who have feared and misunderstood blindness;
from some of the blind themselves, who have clung to the security
of custody and care; and especially from many of the governmental
and private agencies, who have felt a vested interest in keeping us
passive and seeing that we remain dependent. But on this principle
there can be no compromise. It is the bedrock of Federationism. We
want no strife or confrontation, but we will do what we have to do.
We are simply no longer willing to be second-class citizens.

      As the decade of the 1940s advanced and drew to a close, the
blind in growing numbers joined the Federation and learned to work
together for common good. As the 1950s came and went, we were well
on the way to realizing our goal of basic support for the blind who
had neither the means nor the opportunity to do for themselves. By
1963 (the end of the first twenty-three years) rehabilitation and
job opportunities were emerging as the top priority. The ranks of
the first generation of Federationists were thinning, and the blind
of the second generation were advancing through the lines to take
up the banner and carry it forward.

      In the 1940s, when the National Federation of the Blind was
young and weak, and when the agencies still hoped to subvert or
ignore it, there was relatively little conflict. By the 1950s the
situation was different. The agencies launched an all-out attack in
an effort completely to destroy our movement and discredit its
leaders. By the 1960s the agencies were in full line of battle, and
the blind of the second generation stood forth to meet them. It
need only be said that we did not die and that we are stronger
today than we have ever been. We have never wanted strife or
confrontation, but we will do what we have to do. We are simply no
longer willing to be second-class citizens.

      In 1963 we were still concerned with securing subsistence for
needy blind persons (as, indeed, we are today), but that battle was
well on the way to being won. Our focus now broadened to include a
prime emphasis on rehabilitation. We sought education, training,
jobs, and career advancement and not just through government but
through private means and, increasingly, through our own
initiative.

      As the 1960s advanced and the 1970s and the early 1980s came
and went, our focus again broadened, and our emphasis once more
shifted. Now, in 1986, we are still concerned with adequate
subsistence and with jobs commensurate with ability, but the
agencies are no longer as important in our lives as they once were,
and we are devoting increasing attention to the civil rights and
full realization of citizenship which the founders of our movement
originally envisioned as the long range goal. We who are blind are
like all of the rest. When we are hungry, we want to eat; and until
that need is satisfied, we have difficulty thinking about very much
else. But food is not enough. As I have said, we are like all of
the rest. After we have eaten, we want jobs and useful occupation
just like the rest. And after food and jobs, we want equal
participation and human dignity just like the rest. It was the task
of the first generation of our movement to deal with hunger; it has
been the task of the second generation to deal with jobs; it will
be the task of the third generation to deal with civil rights.

      As we survey our situation in 1986, looking back to the
founding and forward to the new century, how far have we come and
what still remains to be done? My first response is that we have
come a long way, probably farther than any of us would have thought
possible in the time we have had to do it. My second response is
that we still have a long way to go. It is as simple and as complex
as a conversation I recently had while riding a train. The sleeping
car attendant was a woman, and she was neither as tall nor as
physically strong as I. She was having trouble reaching high enough
and at the same time applying pressure enough to turn a lock to
move a partition. I asked her to give me the wrench, and I turned
it for her. She was willing to accept the assistance and seemed
grateful to have it, but as she was leaving, she asked if I wanted
a wheelchair when we got to the station. Twenty-three years ago she
would probably not have been permitted to have the job, and I would
probably not have been permitted to help with the wall.

      Twenty-three years ago the battle we are having today with
the airlines would have been unthinkable and in 2009 (twenty-three
years in the future) I believe it will be equally unthinkable. In
the early 1960s comparatively few blind people were traveling, and
the battle for civil rights was still largely ahead at least for
the rank and file, for the average blind person. Twenty-three years
in the future (unless we and the blind of the third generation
totally default on our responsibilities) the airline battle will
long since have been won.

      It is not just workers in the transportation industry who
misunderstand or block our progress. As we have learned to our
cost, our battle for freedom and first-class status is not helped
but made more difficult by the actions of many of the governmental
and private agencies established to give us service. Earlier this
year a top official of the American Printing House for the Blind
answered an inquiry concerning the Braille edition of the Lutheran
Book of Worship. He said:  The only source for this book which I
know of is the Fortress Church Supply Store of Philadelphia,
Pennsylvania. We produce the Lutheran Book of Worship for Fortress
Press. The reason for the handwritten ink numbers is so that
sighted people can pull the pages which are going to be used in a
particular worship service so that the blind reader does not have
to search through the book for the pages. 

      The picture which this conjures up is not very hopeful. One
would think that the blind person who is able to read the hymn from
the Braille page might also have the dexterity and initiative to
read the number from the Braille page and might prefer to do it.
The scene is not hard to imagine. The custodialism is virtually
total. The sighted keeper opens the book to the appropriate page,
places it on the blind person's lap, and says:  Here it is. Sing
it.  The interchange would probably make most of us in this room
feel more like swearing than praying.

      But bad as this is, it fades into insignificance when
compared with the behavior of Guide Dogs for the Blind,
Incorporated, of San Rafael, California. Toni Gardiner is a mature,
self-sufficient adult, who holds a responsible job and leads a busy
life. When she applied to the San Rafael school for a guide dog,
she was (to say the least) not pleased with the response she got.
It was not that they rejected her application, for they did not. It
was the proposed contract and accompanying material which caused
the trouble. Perhaps the best way to demonstrate the nature of the
problem is to review with you a document entitled:  Suggested List
of Items You Will Need for Your Four-Week Stay With Us.  You will
have no trouble understanding why Toni Gardiner was unhappy. Here
is what Guide Dogs for the Blind sent her:

CLOTHING

      low-heeled walking shoes (not new) slacks, jeans, skirts or
dresses shorts (warm weather) tops or blouses dress or pantsuit for
graduation and Sundays shoes for graduation and Sundays heavy
sweater or jacket heavy coat, optional scarf or warm hat gloves
slip bras underpants girdle pantyhose socks or knee highs pajamas
or nightgown robe and slippers raincoat and rainhat (Oct.-April
classes) rainboots (Oct.-April classes) swimming suit and cap
(May-Nov. classes)

OTHER ESSENTIALS:

      comb brush (for hair and clothes) toothbrush toothpaste
shampoo and conditioner deodorant hair spray sanitary pads usual
medicines (aspirin, laxatives, prescriptions, etc.) shower cap (we
have showers only) Diabetics only: one month supply of insulin,
needles, syringes. Do not pre-measure insulin. stationery (some
addressed envelopes) For smokers: two-week supply of cigarettes
MEDICAL COVERAGE CARD OR PAPERS

      All I can say is this: Maybe the arrangements are made by the
same people who find the appropriate page of the hymn book and say: 
Here it is. Sing it.  Maybe the guide dog officials say:  Here it
is. Wear it.  Be that as it may, Toni Gardiner wasn't having any.
In a letter to me she said:  I have never been an agency person and
resent many of the clauses in the San Rafael contract. 

      Her letter to the school was straight to the point. It said:

      This is to inform you that I am withdrawing my application
for a guide dog from Guide Dogs for the Blind, Inc. 

      I have been a guide dog user for the past seventeen years and
have had only two dogs during that time. Both worked until death
claimed them. 

       Your school's custodial attitude is revealed and reflected
in your suggested clothing list. Guide Dogs for the Blind, Inc., is
providing a service for adult blind people. Your clothing list is
so patronizing as to list sanitary napkins as a necessary item for
the month's stay. Do you presume that blind women need such
specific information?

      I have purchased a Golden Retriever and am paying an
ex-Guiding Eyes trainer to train her for me. Although this is a
costly proposition, it frees me from having to deal with an
institution that assumes that I am a mentally deficient blind
person who must be cared for by the  professionals  in the field of
guide dog work. Guide Dogs for the Blind, Inc., has a good
reputation for turning out well-trained dogs. The time has come to
modernize your condescending thinking and to realize that you are
providing a service for blind adults who do not require custodial
care.

      The attitude of Guide Dogs for the Blind of San Rafael is not
unique, and it is not limited to the agencies which work with the
blind. It is widely pervasive throughout society. Under date of
July 1, 1985, the project coordinator for the National Council of
Teachers of English wrote to me asking that I send material about
blindness so that English teachers throughout the country could
help their students learn proper attitudes. Naturally I was
pleased. However, my enthusiasm was considerably dampened when she
went on to say that she felt it was important for the children to
learn compassion while they were young.

      Then, there is a booklet which came to me last summer in
which the author (a woman who is partially blind) described her
limitations. She said:  Everything takes more time and effort, plus
five pairs of glasses in a flower pot a small price for
independence. Some things I can't do, like distinguishing traffic
lights, cutting my toenails, or recognizing a face except when
close up. I've learned to accept limitations. 

      The problem, of course, is the mixture of fact and
foolishness. She is right: She cannot visually recognize a face,
but if she listens, she can determine the flow of traffic and,
therefore, know when the traffic light changes. As to cutting her
toenails, most of us (including the totally blind) have done it
since we were children. The overall message attempts to be witty,
comes off as only  cute,  and is totally false.

      In September of 1985 members of the Baltimore Chapter of the
National Federation of the Blind went to a local TV station to take
part in an audience participation talk show. They wanted to make an
announcement about our annual walk-a-thon. In order to make such
announcements an organization must bring at least twenty people so
that there will be a large audience. On this particular day the
guests were a pilot, a flight attendant, and a fired air traffic
controller. Questions from the audience were encouraged. Therefore,
since the topic was air safety, one of our members raised her hand.
The producer approached a sighted member of the group to ask
whether he or some other sighted person could speak for the blind
and present their questions. The producer was referred to Patricia
Maurer, who insisted that the blind be allowed to speak for
themselves and ask their own questions. The producer said he was
afraid to have a blind person walk to the microphone, and (despite
protests from the group) he refused to let them speak. During the
program the cameras showed the faces of other sections of the
audience but only the backs of the blind. Finally the producer
undertook to ask the question for the blind himself. I probably do
not need to tell you that the question was watered down and poorly
stated. In such an atmosphere our public service announcement was
a mockery.

      The occurrences I have cited are not isolated but typical.
They happen every day. A random list from the last few months makes
the point. A woman writes to say that she has devised a way for the
blind to play bingo without stress. An inventor wants us to promote
a special stair rail for the blind. A corporation writes to ask
what kind of hotels should be built for the blind. A court takes a
baby from its blind mother and refuses to give it back unless she
will agree to feed it in a highchair instead of on her lap, the
argument being that the highchair will foster independence while
the lap will be messy. A blind woman in the District of Columbia,
being arrested for disorderly conduct while under the influence, is
taken not to the local jail but to the local mental hospital. A
pamphlet on diseases of the eye says that people with macular
degeneration cannot safely boil an egg. A prosecutor tells a judge
in Missouri that the accused is obviously lying about being blind
since his neighbors have observed him playing cards, mowing his
lawn, and repairing his porch. A Sioux City blood bank refuses to
let a blind man sell his blood, claiming that U. S. Department of
Agriculture regulations prevent it. And, then, there is the letter
I received from a man from Colorado. He said he was facing a moral
dilemma. He had made a contribution to our organization to help
disseminate information to the blind, but now he was having second
thoughts. He wondered whether he had done the right thing. Maybe,
he said, the day's news should be withheld from the blind in their
own best interest.

      What a dismal catalog! Yet, with all of the discrimination
and lack of opportunity, the blind have never had it so good. We
are better off today than we have ever been and the best is still
ahead. I have a faith amounting to certainty that during the next
generation we will go most of the rest of the way to full
participation and equal status in society.

      But in view of the fact that the National Federation of the
Blind is forty-six years old and that the problems I have discussed
still exist in such massive proportion, how can I feel such
confidence? Here is where we need the fourth dimension of our
intelligence. Progress always begins slowly. It takes time to
create an organizational structure, train leaders, and recruit
members. That groundwork is now behind us. We have an
organizational structure second to none in the world, and we have
leaders to match it. We have tens of thousands of knowledgeable
members who know what they want and what they must do to get it.
The reason we now hear more about the problems I have discussed
than we did earlier in the century is not because there is more
repression or exclusion at the present time than there was
forty-six or twenty-three years ago. There is far less. It is
simply that we are more aware of it and more prepared and able to
do something about it.

      Today we are winning on virtually every front. A little over
a month ago forty-four United States Senators sent a letter on our
behalf to Secretary of Transportation Elizabeth Dole concerning the
airline problem and this is not remarkable but symptomatic. We are
receiving favorable press coverage; blind persons are finding new
jobs; and our members are increasingly participating in public
affairs and running for elective office.

      But there is something else something even more basic
something which causes the optimism, gladdens the heart and
quickens the spirit for the battles ahead. It is the underlying
reason for the confidence and certainty. It is contained in what I
said to you at last year's banquet. It is this:

      We say we are as good as the sighted, able to compete with
them on terms of equality. We say that we deserve all of the
privileges and responsibilities of citizenship and that we are
capable of exercising them. We say that it is respectable to be
blind. When the time comes that a majority of us know for a
certainty within ourselves that these things are true (know it so
surely that we act and live it every day and do not even need to
think about it or question it), our battle will largely be won.

      That is what I said to you last year, and there is mounting
evidence that the time I spoke of is at hand. The long years of
struggle and preparation are bearing fruit. At first our philosophy
was only understood by a few of the leaders, and it seemed to have
little application in the daily lives of the rank and file but year
after year, on an ever-widening basis, it was discussed,
assimilated, and internalized. Now, Federationism is an integral
part of the bodies and souls of tens of thousands of blind
Americans. It is personal, compelling, and alive.

      A few weeks ago a Federationist from Pennsylvania wrote a
letter which brings it all together. He is Terry McManus, who is at
this convention. Terry is a quiet man. He does not seek
confrontation, but when he was faced with decision, he found that
it was easier to endure abuse and public humiliation than to go
back to custodialism and second-class status. As you listen to
Terry's letter, remember that (though he was in a crowd) he was
alone. Nobody would have known if he had ducked the issue or
betrayed his principles but he would have known. He had done it
before, but this time he could not. Without ever being aware of it
he had crossed an invisible line to become irreversibly a new
person. This is what we mean when we say: We know who we are, and
we will never go back.

      In what happened to Terry, and in his reaction to it,
liberation takes tangible form. Diane McGeorge, Mike Hingson, Judy
Sanders, Russell Anderson, and numerous other Federationists faced
incidents of harassment and bullying on airplanes; and they
resisted as best they could sometimes standing their ground,
sometimes ultimately bowing to the pressure, but always undergoing
attack and humiliation. We wrote about their experiences in the
Braille Monitor; and (at national conventions, at state and local
meetings, and individually) we discussed what was happening to
them. Each of us wondered what we would do if our time came and the
process of internalization continued. Going home from last year's
convention (fresh from the discussions and the reinforcement) Steve
and Nadine Jacobson found it better to go to jail (with all of the
accompanying indignities) than to bend the knee and behave like
slaves or wards. Their experience was written about and discussed
and Jim Moynihan, Mary Ellen Reihing, Jacquilyn Billey, Ramona
Walhof, Peggy Pinder, Marc Maurer, Steve Hastalis, and countless
others listened and thought and took courage. And when their time
came, they remembered and were strengthened and they, in their
turn, gave example and courage to others.

      When Terry McManus rode on a city bus and the driver and the
other passengers tried to make him play the part of the helpless
blind man, he remembered and refused. Here is his letter:

      I am writing to relate a blatant incident of discrimination
which occurred against me on Tuesday, January 14, 1986. I think you
will find it strikingly similar to the outrages blind people have
experienced at the hands of airline officials.

      On that afternoon at about 5:15 I boarded a
standing-room-only Port Authority Transit Bus. Just as I stepped
through the door, the driver shouted,  Handicapped passenger; give
him a seat.  I explained to him that blindness did not in any way
limit my ability to stand, that I had good balance and preferred to
stand. At this he became quite irate and proclaimed that if I
didn't immediately take a seat, he would not move the bus. I calmly
told him that I would continue to stand. He began apologizing to
the passengers for the inconvenience I was causing them. Then, he
spotted a supervisor on the street and got off to consult with him.
Meanwhile, the other passengers began bitterly attacking me,
calling me  crazy,   inconsiderate,   ignorant,   arrogant,  and a
few other things which are not printable. One man sarcastically
said that he hoped I would sleep well that night. I tried to
explain to them that it was not I, but the driver, who was
inconveniencing them, and that it was a matter of discrimination
and a violation of my civil rights that was involved. They didn't
want to listen and grew angrier. I was frightened but knew that I
had to continue standing.

      You see, this was not the first time I had been harassed by
a bus driver in this manner. It had happened a number of times in
the past, and on each occasion I sat down after a violent argument.
Each time I was embarrassed and humiliated and felt that I had sold
out my blind brothers and sisters, who were courageously battling
similar discriminatory actions. The last time it happened I
promised myself that it would never happen again.

      The driver returned with the supervisor, who said he
concurred with the driver's decision not to move the bus if I
didn't sit. I told him I would stand. He said the seats in the
front of the bus were reserved for handicapped persons. I told him
I was not handicapped in my ability to stand. I said that if I was
breaking some law, he should have me arrested and that if I was
not, he should order the driver to move the bus. He obviously knew
that I wasn't doing anything wrong because he did not call the
police. He said there was an empty bus behind the one I was on and
that I could get on that one and sit without feeling that I was
being discriminated against. I said I would stay where I was. The
driver and the supervisor conferred a bit longer and then decided
to take all of the other passengers off the bus and put them on the
one behind. They all filed past me, continuing to pour out abuse
and make disparaging comments, until only an elderly woman and I
remained on board. She explained that she was not able to stand on
the other bus. The driver went to see if there was space and
returned to report that there was room but that he didn't want to
inconvenience the passengers by asking one of them to stand for
her. How ironic! He created a major incident by harassing a blind
person who was perfectly capable of standing but would not ask
passengers to stand for someone with a legitimate reason for
requiring a seat. Finally, another bus came, and the elderly woman
left.

      The supervisor returned, and he and the driver continued to
badger me with excuses for their actions:

      Since, as the supervisor put it, I didn't have the  privilege
of seeing,  I wouldn't know when people wanted to get past me and
thus would create an obstruction. (They obviously had no trouble
filing past me to get to the other bus.)

      People are crazy and might knock me down. (I weigh close to
200 pounds, so that is not likely.)

      I was standing too close to the driver and obstructing his
view. (Other people were standing as close to him as I was, and I
would have been happy to move; but the bus was jammed, and there
was nowhere to go.)

      I had been standing there for about thirty minutes and was
beginning to fear that I would spend the rest of the evening on
that bus, being badgered to sit or something even worse. Finally,
believe it or not, they decided to take the bus out of service for
the general public and drive me to my stop. In retrospect I guess
that this is no more unbelievable than cancelling a flight to get
rid of a blind passenger. Of course, I continued to stand as we
drove to my stop.

      The driver went on harassing me about what an ignorant and
inconsiderate person I was. I again repeated that it was a question
of civil rights. I explained that this was just a small part of a
large pattern of discrimination faced by blind people every day. He
said that, as a black man, he had been facing discrimination for
four hundred years but of course this was different since sitting
down would have in no way prevented me from reaching my
destination. I explained that this was precisely the argument used
against blacks who dared to object to being forced to sit at the
back of the bus, but he refused to see my point. I told him that
all of the employers, landlords, insurance carriers, airline
officials, and other service providers who practice discrimination
feel that their situations are also  different.  He informed me
that if he ever saw me waiting for a bus again, he would pass me
up, and he hoped and anticipated that other drivers would do the
same. He further stated that I might have  signed my own death
warrant,  because the passengers I had inconvenienced would
remember me and take action against me on the street. I asked for
his bus number, and he sarcastically replied that I should  go out
and look at it.  Finally, we reached the stop, and I bade him good
day. He said I had already ruined it.

      As I began walking up the hill toward my home, the shock
began to take full effect, and I felt badly shaken by the brutal
and dehumanizing treatment I had just received. At the same time I
was grateful that my involvement in the National Federation of the
Blind had given me the courage to endure such an experience not
only for myself but for all blind people. I was also grateful for
the hard work of the members of the National Federation of the
Blind of Pennsylvania in securing passage of the amendments to our
state's human relations act, which outlaws this type of behavior.
I determined to file complaints with both the city and state human
relations commissions, requesting the following relief: 1) The Port
Authority be required to issue a clear policy statement indicating
that its drivers may not order blind passengers to be seated on
buses when no seats are available and when other passengers are
permitted to stand, and that drivers may not in any way treat blind
passengers differently from others; 2) the driver be required to
publish in the newspaper a public apology for his abusive behavior;
and 3) the Port Authority be required to pay me fifteen hundred
dollars in personal damages.

      I also decided to bring the matter to the attention of the
media. The story received coverage on radio, television, and in the
press with varying degrees of support. At first the Port Authority
refused to comment, saying that I had threatened legal action. (I
never made such a statement to them.) Later they began to claim
that I had refused to stand anywhere but in the front of the bus
and that I was obstructing the driver's view. (As I have already
said, this is not the truth.) The company refused to have a
representative appear on camera, but they issued a written
statement to the media which claimed that their policy was that
elderly and handicapped passengers could stand on buses, provided
that they did not interfere with the operation of the bus. In the
opinion of the driver, I had done just that. Later, on a call-in
talk show, the president of their board of directors indicated that
it was the company's policy that handicapped passengers be required
to sit. This further demonstrates the need for a clear policy
statement. About two weeks later their director of public relations
appeared on a talk show, gave a total fabrication of the incident,
and poked fun at me.

      Thus far, the pain I have suffered has borne some fruit. I
have been on several buses since then where the drivers have
allowed me to stand. They may have learned something.

      People with whom I have discussed this matter are surprised
that I was willing to pay such a large price for such a small
privilege. One friend observed that I was  all alone on that bus. 
I explained to him that I was not alone, that there were more than
50,000 people standing shoulder to shoulder with me as I bore the
indignities people like Judy Sanders, Russell Anderson, the
Jacobsons, and Mike Hingson and I was with them when they faced
their ordeals. As I read the recent account of what happened to Jim
Moynihan, I heard once again the ridicule of the passengers ringing
in my ears. We all continue to derive strength from the collective
pain, and love is our motivating force. My sympathy goes out to
those blind people who have not had the courage and perception to
stand with us. By daring to stand and fight together, we insure
eventual triumph. Some day all of this will be a thing of the past.

      Yours in Federationism, Terry McManus

      To me this letter symbolizes the coming together of the
second and the third generations of our movement. As we range
backward in time to understand the causes of today's conditions,
and as we range forward to anticipate the consequences of our
present acts, the experience of Terry McManus and all of the others
I have mentioned is pivotal. We have assimilated and internalized
the philosophy of our movement, and no force on earth can stay our
progress.

      I leave the presidency of this organization knowing that our
movement has come of age and is fully mature. Make no mistake: We
will go the rest of the way to freedom. I know it as surely as I
know that the blind are as competent as others. I know it as surely
as I know that the sighted are capable of accepting us as the
equals we are. We of the second generation of the movement have
kept faith with the first generation. We have treasured the
heritage, expanded the opportunities, resisted custodialism, fought
where we could with the weapons we have had to advance the cause,
supported each other, nurtured our fellow blind, and sacrificed and
planned for the future. We have also kept faith with our children,
the third generation. We have transmitted to them a powerful
movement. We have trained them in the ways of freedom. We have
shared with them our beliefs and our understanding. We have wanted
better for them than we have had for ourselves. And, above all, we
have loved them. We do not seek to make them like us, for in our
strongest imaginings we cannot go to the house of their ultimate
tomorrow. We seek only to go with them as far as we can on the way.

      At this convention we have elected a new President. Marc
Maurer will make a good President. He will lead with a firm hand,
and he will lead with love and maturity. My brothers and my
sisters, come! Let us move together into the third generation of
the movement.

     