                           Summer 1995

                        Buckeye Bulletin






                      a publication of the 
            National Federation of the Blind of Ohio


                       Eric Duffy, Editor
                         2405 Adams Ave.
                    Columbus, OH  43202-3053
                         1-800-396-NFBO

                Sylvia Cooley, Production Editor
                    Barbara Pierce, President
                         237 Oak Street
                     Oberlin, OH  44074-1517
                   Phone/Fax:  (216) 775-2216


The National Federation of the Blind of Ohio is a 501 (c) 3 consumer organization comprised of
blind and sighted people committed to changing what it means to be blind. Though blindness is
still all too often a tragedy to those who face it, we know from our personal experience that with
training and opportunity it can be reduced to the level of a physical nuisance. We work to see that
blind people receive the services and training to which they are entitled and that parents of blind
children receive the advice and support they need to help their youngsters grow up to be happy,
productive adults. We believe that first-class citizenship means that people have both rights and
responsibilities, and we are determined to see that blind people become first-class citizens of
these United States, enjoying their rights and fulfilling their responsibilities. The most serious
problems we face have less to do with our lack of vision than with discrimination based on the
publics ignorance and misinformation about blindness. Join us in educating Ohioans about the
abilities and aspirations of Ohios blind citizens.
     The NFB of Ohio has eleven local chapters around the state, a chapter for at-large
members, and special divisions for students and parents of blind children. This quarterly
newsletter is produced in large print and on cassette. To receive more information about the
National Federation of the Blind of Ohio, to make address changes for the newsletter, or to be
added to the mailing list, call 800-396-6326.






CONTENTS
***the page numbers are not accurate in this wp51 format




From the President's Desk . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .2
The Question Box  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .5
Tapping Our Way Toward Equality at the Ohio State School for the Blind6
     by Eric Duffy
Little Hands Holding Canes: A Parent's Perspective. . . . . . . . . 10
     by Kathy Arthurs
It's Your Move, Son . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12
     by John W. Smith
Meet a Federationist  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 17
     by Annette Anderson
From The Book Shelf . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 19
Chapter News  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 20
Personal Notes  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 21
Calendar  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 24




                       From the President's Desk
                           by Barbara Pierce

I recently returned from attending a conference in Sioux Falls, South Dakota, which was jointly sponsored and
conducted by all the agencies and organizations in the blindness field in the state. It was three days long and was
aimed at professionals, consumers, and parents of blind children. It clearly took a great deal of planning and effort,
but I think it was valuable. Almost 200 people attended, and everyone benefited from working together on such a
positive project.
Several Federationists were among the out-of-state experts invited to present during the conference, which was titled
"Focus on Success." Dr. John and Sandy Halverson from Kansas City, Missouri, and I each took part in several panel
discussions, and Dr. Fred Schroeder, who as Commissioner of the Rehabilitation Services Administration can no
longer be identified as a Federationist but whose attitudes and training are NFB all the way, was the banquet
speaker. He also talked with members of the state agency staff and addressed the agency's advisory board while he
was in town. In short, the NFB and our philosophy were well represented in this ambitious program.
One thing was almost painfully obvious during the conference: people could pick out the Federationists without
looking at our badges. Without exception, we were the only cane users who were running around the hotel
independently. In fact, Karen Mayry, President of the NFB of South Dakota, and I were frequently mistaken for each
other because we were the only two animated, independent blind women to be seen alone--Sandy Halverson was
usually with John and so could be distinguished from Karen and me. Several dog users were traveling alone, but most
blind people--consumers and professionals alike--were clearly dependent on sighted colleagues to show them where
to go and what to do next. I don't know that I have ever seen a more forceful demonstration of the impact that a
philosophy can have on behavior than this conference provided.
One of the panel presentations in which both Sandy and I took part was on the subject of orientation and mobility--
cane travel to us practical, non-jargonistic Federationists. In different ways Sandy and I made the same point in our
remarks. Both of us learned to use the long white cane at a time and in a way that kept us uncomfortable with it for
years. True, when I was first told that I was going to learn to use the cane, I was excited. I was sixteen and had never
traveled anywhere independently--not to school, not to the neighborhood drugstore, certainly not to a social activity. I
was thrilled to think that I would be able to go shopping independently.
But I soon learned that that was not in the cards. The attitudes of those around me began to creep into my thinking
about the cane. I began to understand that from then on I was going to be marked as blind by this huge, white stick.
People were going to feel sorry for me and watch me and worry about whether or not I would get safely across the
street. I did not care for the idea of being singled out because of blindness; I still don't. What I didn't understand at
the time, however, was that people already knew that there was something peculiar about the way I did things--my
preference for sticking to others, my tentative movements when I was alone. I could not then appreciate the fact that
it is always better to be in control and to look confident than to remain at the mercy and convenience of the people
around one.
In any case, by the time I actually got the cane into my hands, my attitude toward it had undergone a transformation.
I hated it. After every lesson I got rid of it as soon as I could, and I put it away for good as soon as I had
successfully completed the lessons the state agency had contracted for with the O&M specialist.
Then the summer before I left for college I had a conversation with a rehabilitation counselor that shaped the
following fifteen years of my life. He was blind, and I asked him what he thought of the folding cane, which I had
just heard about. He told me it was wonderful. For one thing--he told me with great authority and even greater
silliness--folding canes had to reach only as high as the elbow, so there was less cane to deal with. But the biggest
advantage was that you could get rid of it quickly, and when you did, you could pretend you were sighted. That was
for me! I went off to college with a folding cane and never used my long straight cane with the crook again.
All was not sweetness and light with the folding cane, however. It was made of ridged aluminum sections strung
together with elastic. There was no give in the shaft, so when it got caught in cracks, it could deliver quite a punch to
the solar plexus. The tip was small and insisted in finding its way into every cranny and patch of grass on my route.
Then there was the night that the elastic broke, sending the four sections of the cane clattering onto the uncarpeted
floor of the main reading room of the college library, much to the interest of the several hundred students present. I
crept home very carefully and very slowly that night. In short, the cane had an inferior construction and provided me
with incomplete information. It was too short, too stiff, and too flimsy. But I could fold it up and pretend that I was
putting away my blindness when I shoved it into my book bag.
If I had not been introduced to the National Federation of the Blind, this unhappy situation would probably have
continued for the rest of my life. But when I was thirty-one, I attended my first NFB convention in Chicago. There I
met hundreds of excellent cane travelers. All of them had several things in common. Their canes were longer than I
had ever seen and were made of flexible fiberglass. They used their canes at all times and did not seem to feel any
need to apologize for their presence. When they sat down, they tucked the canes under tables or along rows of
chairs. And they were casual and confident in their use of the cane. I checked my impression with my husband; the
best of them were indeed graceful and efficient in the way they moved.
I wanted what they had--not so much the cane, but the attitude and skill. But I soon learned that the skill came with the cane. I
marched off and bought my first NFB cane. It was fifty-seven inches long, and using it was like taking off mittens while playing the
piano. Suddenly, when I was moving, I had information about the terrain and precision of movement I had never had before. It
was the beginning of a whole new way of using the long white cane, and it produced an entirely new attitude about travel.
That experience was many years ago now. My cane has grown to sixty-three inches, which is just about right for me--
I am five foot seven. Upon occasion now I even use a collapsible cane. The NFB makes a telescoping cane that does
not fall to pieces and can be relied upon to remain open. I still believe that on most occasions a straight cane is the
best choice, but on airplanes and in church I find it convenient to collapse my cane to keep it handy and out of the
way.
Of course, the kind of cane one uses is a personal decision, but the fact that most good travelers choose very long,
straight canes is certainly significant. It seems to me that it is rather like tightening a screw. One can do it with the
edge of a dime. One can usually make even the most battered old screwdriver work, even when it is the wrong size.
But the fact that the most efficient carpenters use cordless electric screwdrivers today suggests that the time may
have come to rethink one's choice of tools for repair projects.
The most exciting part of the revolution in teaching cane travel to today's blind children is that when it is done right, use of
the cane and positive attitudes about cane travel are taught at the same time. The two were separated by fifteen years in my
case, and I will always regret the negative impact that gap had on the way I lived my life during those years. Nevertheless,
an experience like the South Dakota conference reminds me how grateful I am that my fellow Federationists taught me to
travel confidently. Most blind people aren't so lucky. If you are a timid cane user, ask one of us who travel confidently to
work with you. If you're willing to work at it, you can improve.QUESTION BOX:



If you have a question that you would like answered, please write to the Question Box, National Federation of the
Blind of Ohio, 2405 Adams Avenue, Columbus, Ohio 43202. We may not be able to answer every question in this
newsletter, but we will do our best to respond to all of the questions that we receive.

Q: My husband is blind and recently tried to obtain a handicapped parking permit. The Bureau of Motor Vehicles
(BMV) told him that an Ohio law has just been passed denying the permit to blind people because the National
Federation of the Blind has said that blind people should not be eligible to receive this permit. Is this true? It's
easier and safer for him to get to the car when it is parked close to our destination; surely you can understand the
value of this convenience.

A: Everyone appreciates the convenience of parking close to one's destination. That is why it was necessary in the
first place to provide handicapped parking spaces for those who can't walk distances. Until very recently the blind
were considered to be in this category and were, therefore, eligible to receive handicapped parking permits in the
state of Ohio. However, last session the state legislature passed a law, and as a result BMV was required to change
its policy in January of this year. Now only those who are unable to walk long distances due to a physical handicap
are eligible to receive this permit. If you are willing to persuade a physician to write a letter saying that because of
blindness and any complicating conditions that may be present in your husband's situation he is unable to walk safely,
you may well be able to get around the prohibition in the new law.
The National Federation of the Blind has always maintained that blind people do not need handicapped parking
permits solely because of blindness. The absence of sight does not in and of itself impede one's ability to walk.
Members of the general public are so quick to assume that blind people are unable to do anything at all that it
seems to us a mistake to barter away the principle that blind people are able-bodied and capable of walking for the
convenience of close parking. Handicapped parking spaces have always been intended for those who can't walk easily
or at all. In fact, these spaces are usually wider than other parking spaces in order to accommodate wheelchair users
and their vans. Blind people may be limited by poor travel skills, but that problem can usually be solved by providing
effective orientation and mobility training.
But regardless of NFB policy on the question of handicapped parking permits for blind people, the National
Federation of the Blind does not dictate state policy. We have been told that BMV attorneys referred to the
language of a model regulation on the subject prepared at the federal level and published in the Federal Register. A
statement of the NFB policy on these parking permits was included in the federal material, and apparently our
position made sense to those drafting the revised Ohio regulation. Any organization or individual who disagrees with
this new BMV policy certainly has the right to try to change the policy through the legislative process. However, the
policy of the NFB is clear and unlikely to change. We applaud those state officials who are progressive and open-
minded enough to be influenced by NFB policy in this matter, but we would certainly be foolish to claim that we
forced them to change the law.


                    Tapping Our Way Toward Equality
                at the Ohio State School for the Blind
                             by Eric Duffy

The tapping of a white cane sends a distinct sound to the ear of anyone within hearing range of its user. With a fair
amount of accuracy I can identify the type of cane someone is using by the sound the cane tip makes. It is easy to
distinguish the sound of an NFB cane tip from others. Going one step further, I can usually tell whether someone is
using a telescoping or a straight cane, carbon-fiber or fiberglass. I have attended several large gatherings of disabled
people in which I was pleasantly surprised to recognize the sound of an NFB cane since I associate that sound with
the presence of a friend.
The tapping of canes has always been noticeably absent from the collection of sounds one hears while walking
through the hallways of the Ohio State School for the Blind. Most of the students who use canes when traveling do
not use them while on school grounds. According to OSSB officials, this is because the school is like home to the
students, and no one uses a cane inside the home.
During the fall of 1994 Tim and Connie Misch became concerned that their son Brandon was not bringing his cane
home during weekend visits. Concern turned to alarm when Brandon reported that someone in authority at the
school had taken his cane and that he was no longer using the cane at school.
Connie immediately contacted the Federation to find out whether or not she had the right to insist that her son be
permitted to use his cane while at the school. She was both surprised and outraged that someone had taken
Brandon's cane from him. She asked what could be done to solve this problem. I told her that she was within her
rights to insist that Brandon be allowed to use his cane and that the NFB would assist her in securing that right.
In mid November I contacted William Bowling, the school's Principal, to discuss the matter with him. He assured me
that Brandon, and for that matter any other student at the school, could use a cane whenever he wished to. He said
that he was surprised to hear that someone at the school told Brandon to stop using his cane. He assured me that he
would investigate the matter.
A few weeks later I spoke with Mr. Bowling and Phil Northrop, the Orientation and Mobility instructor who had
evaluated Brandon's O&M skills at the beginning of the year. At that time Mr. Northrop said that, although he
believed Brandon to be in need of further O&M instruction, he was not prohibited from using his cane. Northrop
did express some concern that Brandon might trip someone with his cane since he was not fully trained in its use.
I was pleased to hear that Mr. Northrop had no objections to Brandon's using his cane. Shortly after that
conversation I wrote a follow-up letter to Mr. Bowling. In part the letter said:

Dear Mr. Bowling:
For some time mobility instructors have resisted giving young children canes. They have said that, if you give a child
a cane before he reaches a certain age, he will develop poor technique. Furthermore, they have said that a young
child who uses a cane will not develop good listening skills and the other skills essential to effective travel. Given all
of this, I was pleased to hear both you and Mr. Northrop say that you do not hold these beliefs.
Several parents whose children have been evaluated by Rob Mills [an O&M specialist at OSSB] have told me that
Mr. Mills has referred to the NFB cane as "an Eric Duffy special." Therefore once again I admit that I expected Mr.
Northrop to resist the idea of Brandon's using a cane. I was delighted to learn that he did not. This is a perfect
example of why we must always be open-minded when we are exploring unfamiliar territory.
I must tell you that, when I was a student at the OSSB, none of us used canes in familiar territory. In fact, even when
we were off campus, we did not use our canes unless it was absolutely necessary. For example, when we traveled to
other schools for athletic or other events, we did not take our canes. When I was in high school, I made two trips to
Washington, D.C., without taking a cane. Today I could not even conceive of such a thing. Perhaps the attitudes of
both staff and students concerning the use of canes are quite different now. I certainly hope that they are. However,
two recent occurrences cause me to think that opinions on this subject really have not changed very much.
I understand that just a few weeks ago the mother of a day-student, at the request of her son, brought his cane to the
principal's office so that it could be given to him. Someone in the office told her that she would give him the cane
after school because students were not permitted to use their canes during the school day. I realize that this
individual was not an administrator and did not have policy-making authority. Nevertheless, the message that she sent
is extremely negative and damaging.
Only yesterday I heard about a former student who, because she was traveling to and from work in a taxi, did not
bother to take her cane to work. When a change in plans required her to take a bus rather than a taxi, she did not
know what to do without her cane. Of course, I know that, after students leave the school, they are free to do as they
please. However, if they have been taught that it is respectable to be blind and that it is okay to use a cane and if
they are encouraged to use the cane while in school, in all likelihood they will learn to rely on the cane at all times.
Do you believe that it would be appropriate to take some action to make it more acceptable for students to use
canes both on and off campus? If so, would you be willing to work with us to accomplish this goal?

                                                            Sincerely,
                                                            Eric Duffy

Although Mr. Bowling orally acknowledged the receipt of my letter, I received no written response. On at least two
occasions during the months of December and January, Mr. Bowling said that we should meet to discuss the letter
and the relevant material that I had sent to him. However, such a meeting had not occurred by the time an IEP
conference was scheduled for Brandon in the spring. Before going into the meeting, I had no idea what position the
school would take with regard to the Misches' request that their eight-year-old son be given cane travel instruction.
When I considered some of the issues I had raised in my letter to Mr. Bowling and the fact that Mr. Northrop had
told me that, because there were only two instructors serving one hundred ten students, they had to prioritize their
time for providing instruction, based on the ages of students, I was not optimistic about the possibility that the school
would willingly agree to provide Brandon with O&M instruction.
Was my skepticism warranted? It certainly was. Cane travel instruction should be a natural part of a blind child's
education. Due to the efforts of the NFB, a number of blind children today are beginning to use canes at an early
age. Kaylee Arthurs has been using a cane since she was sixteen months old. Amanda Gabbardalso received her first
cane at the age of sixteen months. Macie McClain got her first cane when she was two years old. However, Robert
Mills, Chief Peripatologist at the OSSB, said at Brandon's IEP meeting, "generally, unless a child is exceptionally
gifted, somewhere at about seven or eight is the earliest that you could expect them to accept a cane and to use it
truly as an extension of their sense of touch and integrate the information with the remaining sensory modalities."
How many exceptions to this general rule can there be before the rule becomes the exception? I have named three
children in the state of Ohio who are exceptions to this rule, and there are many more across the state and nation.
Let us look more carefully at this professional's attitudes and convictions with respect to cane travel for young
children. After all, what he believes about blind children and their ability to learn to use the cane will continue to
have a profound effect on the lives of many children. Mills says, "Because of delays caused by the lack of integrating
sight, since they have been a child, there are a lot of things that they have tactually missed out on." Anyone who has
ever observed Kaylee Arthurs and other young, cane-using children like her explore the world knows that there
aren't many things that they miss out on. They are curious, competent, and unafraid in marked contrast to all too
many non-cane-using blind children.
Despite Mr. Mills's out-dated attitudes toward the blind child's use of a cane, Brandon Misch is now receiving cane
travel instruction at the OSSB. He is doing so primarily because his parents are active members of the Parents
Division of the National Federation of the Blind of Ohio. Through their involvement in the Federation Mr. and Mrs.
Misch have learned how important it is for their young son to learn to use a cane. I believe that the School for the
Blind should be a model service provider and should lead the field of education of the blind. The idea of giving a
young blind child a cane is no longer a novelty or an innovation; it has begun to be a widely accepted practice, one
that was pioneered by the National Federation of the Blind. However, if OSSB does not choose to lead the way in
appropriate cane travel for children, we will bring them along with us one IEP conference at a time, one blind child
at a time, and with every tap of the long white cane.
         Little Hands Holding Canes: A Parent's Perspective
                           by Kathy Arthurs

Editor's Note: Kathy Arthurs is the President of the Parents of Blind Children Division of the National Federation of the
Blind of Ohio. Her daughter Kaylee received her first cane when she was sixteen months old. As far as I know, Kaylee is
the youngest member of the NFB of Ohio ever to use a cane. In all likelihood this means that she is the youngest child
in the state of Ohio ever to use a cane. In any case, Kathy and Kaylee continue to serve as excellent role models for
parents and their blind children with respect to the use of the long white cane.

"My child is blind; she needs a cane." I said these words aloud, trying to convince myself of their veracity. I felt great
ambivalence toward the long white cane because to me it symbolized blindness. If I let my child walk with a cane,
everyone would know she was blind. Clearly I needed to come to terms with blindness. The first step in this process
was to tell myself repeatedly that my daughter Kaylee was blind and that there was nothing I could do to change the
fact. But accepting the idea that my child needed a cane was another matter entirely.
In the four years since that first contact with the cane, my attitude about blindness has evolved from one of despair
and apprehension to one of acceptance. Gone are the negative views that blindness makes one dependent, inferior,
and helpless. Abandoned are the fears that I would forever be my child's keeper or that she would not be able to
enjoy life to the full. In their place shines a renewed spirit of hope and expectation, an enthusiasm kindled by
replenished dreams. I would like to be able to report that my transformation from despondency to acquiescence
occurred overnight; however, mine was a gradual metamorphosis. I owe my growth and change in attitude about
blindness in large part to the National Federation of the Blind. My new Federation friends' immediate acceptance of
my daughter encouraged my own acceptance of her, and getting a long white cane into her hands was a critical part
of that acceptance.
 Deciding whether or not a child should use a cane can be difficult for a parent. One instinctively protects one's
child. This instinct is often over-developed in parents of blind children. I believed that, if I carried my daughter or
held her hand when she walked, I could protect her from appearing to be blind. I recall receiving the cane in the
mail. I remember the feeling of regret when I first handled it. But my small toddler had an entirely different outlook
on the situation. She was inquisitive about the cane, and she readily accepted it. I truly don't know which one of us
enjoyed that very first stroll together more. Watching my child walk with her cane changed my view about canes and
children forever. I knew instantly I had made the right decision.
There are many arguments about children and cane travel. Many professionals in the field of work with the blind
hold fast to the outmoded belief that children lack the discipline to use the cane properly. Others say that early cane
use will cause a blind child to develop bad habits and improper techniques that will be hard to rectify later.
My personal experience discredits both these negative notions. Consider the belief that children lack the maturity and
discipline for proper cane travel. Cane travel for children is not a perfect science. Early cane skills are unrefined.
After all, we are dealing with children. Anyone expecting proper cane techniques from a beginner is dreaming.
Refinement comes with practice and experience. Children realize quickly that the cane is an extension of the arm
and, therefore, a part of who they are. The cane is an instrument for learning. It is not a toy but a tool for growth
and development. Every blind person, regardless of age, discovers this.
I also disagree with the notion that children develop bad habits through early cane travel. In fact, in my experience
just the opposite is true. With a cane concepts of spatial relations are increased. Cane use can also lead to improved
posture. Taken together, these things lead to security, confidence, and balance. With a cane comes freedom--freedom
to grow independently, freedom to experience self-worth and confidence, freedom that springs from a sense of
control over one's environment. With a cane a child's journey toward equality can begin with head held high. A cane
doesn't create bad habits. Rather, it is a vital addition to the maturation process.
I believe every child deserves the opportunity to explore and interact with the world around him or her. A long white
cane is simply a tool used by the blind child for exploring. Gathering and integrating information is the essence of
knowledge and education. Blind children are entitled to the same liberty as are sighted children.
Did I make the right choice when I gave Kaylee a cane? She answers this question every day as we walk around our
neighborhood, go to school, play at the park, or go shopping. I am convinced beyond the shadow of a doubt that a
cane is, not only a necessity, but a crucial part of a blind child's world. Kaylee is proud of who she is, and we are
proud of her, too.
One of the best gifts we can give our children is a sense of self-worth. Our children are a vital part of society. Cane
in hand, our children will triumphantly march into adulthood with confidence, independence, and honor.


                         It's Your Move, Son!
                           by John W. Smith

Editor's note: Dr. John Smith is no stranger to these pages. Not only does he serve as First Vice President of the National
Federation of the Blind of Ohio, but he organized the NFB of Southeast Ohio and serves as its President. Here are his
most recent reflections:

I do not usually wax eloquent about life and success; but I do know that one key element of a successful life is
making good decisions. Decisions, decisions, decisions--decisions about where to go to school, where to live, what
jobs to take. In fact, James Bristol once said, "We are not all called to travel the same road, but we are called to be
faithful to insights we have found on the road we have chosen." I am not sure what I think about destiny or pre-
destination, but I do believe that our lives or at least the quality of our lives is often contingent on a few life-altering
decisions which ultimately ensure the fulfillment or the destruction of our dreams.
Henry David Thoreau once said, "If one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams and endeavors to live the
life which he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours. If you have built castles in the
air, your work need not be lost; that is where they should be. Now put foundations under them." Those foundations
are the crux of this story.
I am a professor of speech communication at Ohio University. I have completed a bachelor of arts degree, a master
of arts degree, and a doctoral degree in speech communication. Today I am a competent and confident man, but it
wasn't always that way. There was a time when, like so many other young people, I had serious doubts about my
abilities to make a worthwhile contribution to society in general and to myself in particular. For you to understand
my story, I must begin at the beginning.
I was born in Chicago, Illinois, on the South Side. This is important because the South Side experience for an
African American growing up in Chicago has always been unique. When asked about the content and tone of her
now famous play, A Raisin in the Sun, Loraine Hansberry said, "The play is about life on the South Side of Chicago
for one black family. It is not about anyone else, anywhere else because the unique experience of a black family
growing up on the South Side of Chicago was quite intriguing to me." Having grown up in that kind of an
environment, I can relate to this comment.
I was raised by my grandparents, who came to Chicago from Tennessee during the great African American migration
of the forties, fifties, and sixties. And, like so many others of those African Americans, they came to the South Side
of Chicago to find the promised land. Karl, my grandfather, worked at several different jobs before finally coming to
own and operate a Sunoco gas station located at the corner of our block. My neighborhood was fascinating. We lived
between a banker and a doctor. Several lawyers, professors, and one key city administrator also lived on our block;
and, with one exception, all were African American.
The South Side of Chicago is famous for its neighborhoods, its genially integrated communities, as well as its fiercely
segregated ones. Those blacks who settled on the South Side of Chicago tended to be more upwardly mobile and
more willing to assimilate than those who settled on the west side of the city.
I was born into a middle-to-upper-class family. Because of the hard work of my grandfather, who often worked
fourteen- to sixteen-hour days, we never really wanted for anything.
In some ways my grandparents were Federationists long before we ever knew what that word meant. Especially my
grandmother Sarah. She encouraged me to climb trees; wash dishes; take out the garbage; clean up after the dogs,
cats, and rabbits; and even clean my room. She never saw my blindness as a reason not to treat me like any other kid
in the neighborhood. My grandfather was a bit different because he was gone a lot. He never really knew what a
blind child could do, so I could take advantage of his ignorance and absence.
As I grew older, I found that I wanted to prove myself to my grandfather but did not know how. I remember one day
he came home early, and my grandmother wanted him to move an old refrigerator from the house to the yard. I
offered my assistance, and he told me that he didn't want me getting hurt. I tried to tell him that when he was not
there Sarah made us move beds, dressers, couches, and anything else that came to her mind, and I was the best
mover in the house. He didn't buy it. He loved me, but he didn't respect me as a man. He always saw me as a blind
child. He almost broke his back that day in an effort to keep me from helping him; and, because of his pride, he
never let on that my assistance would have been helpful.
In addition to being a proud man, my grandfather was a competitive man. As an African American growing up in the
twenties and thirties, he had learned that he had to be competitive in an environment where often times the odds
were stacked against him. One way he demonstrated his competitive nature was by playing games. In our house the
game was checkers, and my grandfather was regarded as the greatest checkers player in the entire city. He had never
lost to anyone at any time. I began to notice just how much this game meant to him, and I wanted to prove to him
that I could play the game and gain his respect as well. As I look back on it now, I really wanted his respect and
admiration, and playing checkers or learning to play checkers seemed to be the best way to get it. I decided to learn
to play.

My uncle, who lived with us at the time, was not a very good checkers player, but he would and could teach me the
basics. Week after week I studied, I played, I got ready to challenge my grandfather. The night finally came when I
challenged him. Because checkers was so important to us, we had almost nightly elimination tournaments. Little by
little I became very good at the game until next to my grandfather and without his knowledge I became probably the
second-best player--at least in that household. My grandfather, however, never involved himself in any of these
tournaments because he considered them beneath him. First I beat my brother consistently, then my uncle, and then
everyone else in the house, until after two years I felt it was time for me to challenge the man.
One night during the checkers tournament, my grandfather decided to get involved. We were playing best-two-out-of-
three elimination rounds. After everyone had been eliminated except him and me, we squared off.
There was a thick atmosphere of anticipation and deafening silence in the kitchen that night since everyone knew
what was at stake. In my mind it was no longer a game but my manhood that was on the line. As my grandfather sat
down to play me, he said, "Well boy, you have been looking for this thrashing a long time; here it comes." I was
furious at the remark, and I resolved in my heart that I would win that night if it killed me. The game was over in
about five minutes, and I never knew what hit me. My grandfather was not only a great checkers player but a master
of intimidation. He would talk to me in a condescending tone as he beat me, which added insult to injury. My family
tried to console me that night, but I was devastated. I had really thought I was ready for the big show.
This was one of the times when I had to make a decision about how to respond to an overwhelming disappointment.
A few years later it would be going off to attend a college in Indiana and being dismissed after one semester. Riding
home on the bus that last night of college was one of the most devastating experiences of my life. I had thought I was
ready for the big show then, and I found out again that I was not.
Success in life is contingent on crucial decisions at pivotal times, especially those times when we reach a fork in the
road. I could have made any one of several decisions: pack it in, giving up on my goal of going to college or beating
my grandfather, or I could have decided to keep on fighting. In both of these situations I decided to keep on
fighting. I challenged my grandfather again--forty-two more times! Each of those times I was left with that familiar
feeling of desperation and devastation. But with each game I got a little better. My grandfather even began to make
comments like "That's a pretty good move," which for him was quite a statement.
On July 20, 1974, in the forty-fourth game with my grandfather, something life-altering happened. It was a sunny
Saturday afternoon, and many of the neighborhood men were there for our usual summer weekend checkers
tournament. As usual it had come down to my grandfather and me. The atmosphere was electric; it seemed that the
world was hanging on our every move. I began a series of calculated moves. As the game unfolded, I began to see
the vision of victory opening up to me. No one spoke in that room with the exception of my grandfather's occasional
taunts, "If you study long, you will study wrong," and "Are you sure that's what you want to do?"
Finally the magic moment came, and it seemed that the world stood still. I had reached the opportunity that I had
fought for years to achieve. I sat in stunned disbelief and exhilaration because it was finally going to happen. I had
made a series of moves, and my grandfather had responded, Now it was my turn, and I saw the move of moves. I sat
there just taking it in. Then I heard my grandfather's voice, "It's your move, son." I made the move, giving him a
jump and then taking five of his men in one fell swoop.
I would have given anything that afternoon to see the expression on my grandfather's face. Tears came to my eyes
then, as they do now when I think of that moment. After the move he grasped my hand and said, "Good game, son;
you win." A tremendous burden rolled off my shoulders, and from that moment to this day, my grandfather has
treated me with genuine respect. He has been my strongest supporter. Later he would tell me that when he saw what
I had done, there was nothing he could say except "It's your move, son."
This memory of my grandfather, who unfortunately is now suffering the ravages of that monster Alzheimer's, will
remain with me forever. I don't think he ever really understood what a turning point that was in my life. Over the
next ten or fifteen years the tables gradually turned, and I became the king of checkers. He became my most
competitive challenger. Yes, I made a good move that afternoon, but the critical move had come after game one the
day I made the decision to keep on fighting until game forty-four.
And what about that long bus ride home? You actually already know the rest of the story. When I got off that bus, I
didn't know what I was going to do. When my grandfather picked me up that night at the bus station and we were
driving home, he said, "Well son, it's your move again." I understood that he meant, what are you going to do? What
decision are you going to make? Are you going to beat yourself up? Are you going to give up? Or are you going to
decide to keep on fighting?
I have always been glad I decided to go on to college and pursue my dream of being a professor, but I am even
more grateful that I made one other great move in my life: joining the National Federation of the Blind. That was an
easy move for me because in doing so I joined a group of people who were proven fighters, who were never willing
just to take what life hands out. Through hard work I have now become the First Vice President of the Ohio affiliate
of the NFB, the President of my local chapter, and an active member of several national committees.
My advice to everyone, blind and sighted alike, is to choose to live rather than die, fight rather than surrender, win
rather than lose at those critical moments we all face. Genuine success boils down to the decisions we make and the
responses we give to the circumstances we find ourselves in; success really begins with the right attitudes. As a
Federationist I have learned that it is respectable to be blind and that as a blind person I am as entitled to happiness
as anyone else. Robert Frost, in his classic poem, "The Road Not Taken," says:

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth; . . .

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.Whether it is checkers or pursuing an education or going after that job that no one thinks you can get, you must
decide to achieve; you must choose to reach your potential. You cannot give in to excuses, blindness, or external
pressures because it really is true that where there is a will there is a way. Or in other words, where there is a
positive attitude, there is the capacity to do extraordinary things. This is the spirit, the heart that beats in the breast
of every true Federationist, and it is this spirit, this life blood, that keeps me moving down the road of life.


















                         Meet a Federationist
                          by Annette Anderson

Editor's Note: Annette Anderson is a member of the Board of Directors of the National Federation of the Blind of Ohio.
She is also the Vice President of the National Federation of the Blind of Cuyahoga County. Here is what she has to say
about Cheryl Fischer, the President of this new chapter:

Cheryl Fischer, President of the Cuyahoga County Chapter, has always been an optimist. From early childhood she
knew that "if you believed hard enough in something, you could make it happen." Based on this conviction, on three
different occasions during her early childhood she tried to breathe underwater. Biological impossibilities
notwithstanding, she has kept her optimism through the years, and it has served her well.
Cheryl began losing her sight at the age of eighteen for reasons that doctors could not determine. As soon as she
started losing her sight, she began rehabilitation training so that, by the time she completely lost her sight at the age
of twenty-two, she was learning Braille, mobility, and other alternative techniques and had met successful blind
persons.
Prior to losing her sight, Cheryl had been accepted at Case Western Reserve University, where she planned to major
in chemistry. After she lost her sight, her parents were told by school administrators that she would fail her courses
and lose any self-esteem that she might have left. She proved them wrong, graduating with a 3.9 grade point average.
Cheryl intended to enter Case Medical School, her ultimate goal to become a psychiatrist. The school denied her the
opportunity, believing that a blind person could not successfully handle the required courses. She therefore filed a
charge with the Ohio Civil Rights Commission and asked for help from the Federation (which she learned about
from a friend who told her about the Job Opportunities for the Blind program). The school was ordered to allow her
entrance, but it appealed the decision. The lower court found in Cheryl's favor, but at the appeals court level the
three judges found in favor of the university. Cheryl and her attorney decided to petition the Ohio Supreme Court to
hear the case since the appeals court judges had clearly not even considered the merits of Cheryl's case before
arriving at their decision. Through the efforts of the National Federation of the Blind, the NFB of Ohio, and Ohio
Legal Rights Services, the Supreme Court has now agreed to take the case.
 Cheryl has a master of arts degree in experimental psychology from Cleveland State University and is presently a
data collector for the Triangle Research Institute, which (sponsored by the U.S. Department of Education) is
studying rehabilitation programs throughout the country. In her spare time Cheryl takes dance lessons, is the
chairperson for the local Rehabilitation Services Commission Consumer Advisory Council, and guides our newest
chapter through a number of projects.
Cheryl is surprised that, by law, blind people are considered "most severely disabled." She believes that dealing with
blindness is a matter of attitude. Although at first she wondered if she would be able to adjust to blindness, she has
learned through the years to develop her strengths and not to be ashamed of her weaknesses. "Nobody's perfect. I
don't mind asking for help when I need it, because I know that there will be times when I can help other people." It
is obvious that this would-be water breather has many strengths. She has the ability to swim upstream in order to
achieve her goal and to do it with skill and determination. She embodies the spirit and philosophy of the Federation,
and we are delighted to have her as a part of this affiliate's leadership.




                          From the Book Shelf

Ohio's Braille Literacy law requires that the Individualized Education Program of a blind student contain a statement
that instruction in Braille reading and writing was carefully considered for the student and that pertinent literature
describing the educational benefits of instruction in Braille reading and writing was reviewed by those developing the
program. Shortly after the law passed, educators began scrambling to find pertinent literature describing the
educational benefits of Braille. They soon learned that such literature was hard to come by. The NFB of Ohio began
an effort to solve this problem.
Barbara Pierce began to collect material in the hope of putting together a book to be used in Ohio. When
Federation leaders from throughout the country heard about this project, they began to request copies of the book.
Dr. Jernigan and President Maurer decided that this book would be valuable to parents and educators throughout
the nation. Therefore they decided that the National Federation of the Blind would publish this book. Thus The
World Under My Fingers came into being.
The book can be purchased for $1 from 12:30 to 5:00 p.m. Eastern Time by contacting the Materials Center, National
Federation of the Blind, 1800 Johnson Street, Baltimore Maryland 21230; phone, (410) 659-9314.
Here is the text of the book's contents page:

An Open Letter to Parents
     by Barbara Pierce
Who Should Learn Braille
     by NFB of Maryland and the Maryland Department of Education
Keeping Within the Lines
     by Marc Maurer
The Everyday Usefulness of Braille
     by Lauren Eckery
Blueprint for Learning?
     by Stephen O. Benson
Braille Made the Difference
     The Value of Learning Braille as a Child
          by Mary Hartle
     Braille is an Essential Part of My Life Because
          by Jana Schroeder
Braille or Print: Why the Debate
     by Jody Ianuzzi 
The Chance to Read
     by Eric Duffy
Reflections of a Life-long Braille Reader
     by Kenneth Jernigan
Braille Today and Tomorrow
     by Fredric K. Schroeder
Braille: What Is It? What Does It Mean to the Blind?
A Lucky Beginning, A Happy Ending


                             Chapter News

 Kathy Arthurs, President of the Parents Division, writes as follows: The Parents Division will be sponsoring a
Parent Mentor Project for the National Convention in Chicago. This project will enable parents who are more
experienced in going to a National Convention to be paired with parents attending for the first time. We think it will
be a great way for newer parents to experience a National Convention.
If you are interested in becoming a mentor, please notify Kathy Arthurs at (216) 343-0076 or Eric Duffy at (800) 396-
NFBO by June 20, 1995.
I would like to thank everyone who made our gourmet food basket project a success. This year we raised $821. Many
people worked hard to collect gourmet food items and to sell tickets. The money raised from this project will enable
parents to attend the 1995 convention of the NFB in Chicago.
Our IEP workshop was also a tremendous success. Board members and chapter presidents from throughout the state
participated in this event. We had quality presenters and a great many new parents. I am proud of the
accomplishments of the division so far this year.

 Betty Kendall Jackson writes to report the following election results for the Members-at-Large Chapter: The
following individuals were elected to two-year terms as officers: Elizabeth Haag, President; Ruth Hinch, Vice-
President; Betty Jackson, Secretary; Martha Hays, Treasurer. Wayne Ingle is still the editor of our newsletter.

 Paul Dressell, Treasurer of the NFB of Cincinnati, writes to report what the chapter did in recognition of Braille
Literacy Week. Here's the text of the remarks that were presented to the Cincinnati City Council:
March 21, 1994, was a very significant date in the lives of Ohio's blind children, for it was on that date that the
Braille Literacy Bill was signed into law. The Braille Literacy Act gives each of Ohio's blind children in public
schools the right to learn to read and write Braille.
Braille is a system of raised dots which represent letters or contractions; it is the only feasible means by which blind
persons can write grocery lists, record recipes, or keep track of telephone numbers. Attempts have been made to
supplant Braille with such devices as cassette recorders or closed circuit TV's; although these devices are a valuable
adjunct to Braille, none offers the convenience or portability of Braille.
To commemorate this historic occasion, members of the Cincinnati Chapter of the National Federation of the Blind
want to take this opportunity to present each of you with a refrigerator magnet and a Braille alphabet card. [The
magnets said in both print and Braille "Braille is Beautiful."]

 John Smith, President of the NFB of Southeast Ohio, reports as follows: On Saturday May 6th, with the assistance
of the NFB-O Membership Committee, our chapter conducted a membership-building seminar on the campus of the
Ohio University. We covered many topics including advocacy, Braille literacy, rehabilitation services, and much more.
Kathy Arthurs represented the Parents Division, and Eric Duffy represented the NFB of Ohio. We gained three new
members as a result of this activity and increased many people's understanding of blindness.


                            Personal Notes

A great many life-altering events have occurred for members of the Federation family since the last issue of this
newsletter. We list these events in no particular order except that we will end this column on a happy note.

Alexis Johnson, daughter of Chris and Shelbi Johnson, died on March 22, 1995. Her illness was sudden and
unexpected. We extend our deepest sympathies to both Chris and Shelbi. We also offer them our admiration, for
they showed great courage and strength throughout their daughter's brief illness.

On March 31, Eric Duffy's father died as a result of a stroke. He was seventy-five at the time of his death.

Katherine Kunde, former member of the NFB of Mahoning Valley, died on March 7, 1995. She was sixty-one at the
time of her death.

Barbara Pierce recently received a letter from Fred Lotz, who is an active member of the NFB of Stark County. We
have reprinted part of this letter here:

          I wanted to tell you about the drunk driver that couldn't see me a block away from our
     building as I was riding back from the grocery on my bike. The groceries never did get delivered!
          When he hit me, I landed in the grass and slid all the way to the corner. I was knocked out
     for just a couple minutes, but I was awake while I was being transported to the hospital. The
     paramedics couldn't believe I was so alert!
          The driver was a forty-five-year-old, had two other violations, and had no drivers license. I
     ended up with part of his car fender embedded in my left leg, so I couldn't get up. All the
     neighbors came flying out to see what had happened. A city police officer was there and arrested
     the driver.
          I went from the ambulance right into surgery. Two operations and three weeks later I was
     home. The nurses all did their jobs. One even gave me a great big hug when I left.
          I get physical therapy at the hospital three times a week and go back to the orthopedist next
     Wednesday, May 3rd. My leg is almost healed up but still needs some kind of brace which goes in
     behind the leg and into the back of the shoe to prevent a drop foot.

Fred reports that his recovery is going well but that he and Pauline will probably have to miss the Chicago
Convention. He is looking forward to seeing all of his friends at the upcoming state convention in Canton. We
certainly hope that Fred continues to recover and has no complications from these injuries.
On Monday, May 15, Paul Dressell was hospitalized for treatment of a heart condition. It seems that Paul suffered a
slight heart attack on the evening of Mother's Day, and it looked as if he was going to have to have a triple bypass.
However, Paul is now at home and taking medication. Surgery was not necessary. Paul maintained high spirits
throughout his hospitalization. When we first talked with him in the hospital, he said that Ken Velkovich's bowling
team knocked his team out of first place and that this took the heart right out of him.

The dynamic duet of Anderson and Jeffries will be performing at the Case Western Radio Station on Saturday,
September 9, 1995. Those who attended the 1992 state convention in Cleveland will remember that Anderson and
Jeffries provided the musical entertainment for our hospitality night. For more information about this event, call
Annette Anderson at (216) 381-1735.

Congratulations to Chris and Shelbi Johnson. Shelbi gave birth to Ethan Douglas at 2:12 p.m. on Sunday, May 21.
Ethan weighed in at eight pounds and two ounces and is twenty inches long. Mother, baby, and Father are all doing
well.

May has been both a painful and joyful month for the Eschbach family. With sadness we report the death of Bob's
sister on Saturday evening, May 20. The day preceding, Pat had undergone gall bladder surgery, recuperation from
which will keep her away from work for several weeks. It didn't keep her, however, from her sister-in-law's funeral
two days following her release from the hospital. She contrived to travel lying down. Only Pat could have organized
such a trip, and only her determination carried her through the event.
But the piece of Eschbach news that will have the greatest and most long-lasting impact on the Ohio affiliate is Bob's
decision to accept a job offer to become the Director of Rehabilitation for the Blind in the State of Pennsylvania.
This is an appointment made by the state's governor, and Bob will be taking office as soon as possible. Pat will have
to stay in Columbus to wind up her job, sell the house, and train her successor as Treasurer of the NFB of Ohio.
Many of us have never known the NFB of Ohio without the Eschbachs. When Barbara Pierce first heard of the
appointment, she congratulated Bob but pointed out that we were only lending the Eschbachs to Pennsylvania. This
announcement will serve notice that Ohio demands our property back for retirement. The Eschbachs are an Ohio
product; and, while we commend Governor Ridge's good sense in making this appointment, we expect to have our
property returned as soon as possible! In the mean time we wish Bob and Pat the very best and congratulate both
Bob and the state of Pennsylvania on this honor.



                          ACTIVITIES CALENDAR

June 23 & 24OSSB Family Retreat
July 1 - 7NFB Convention in Chicago
July 14 & 15RSC Consumer Advisory Council Retreat
August 15 Deadline for NFBO scholarship applications and Distinguished
                    Educator competition
September 16Pre-convention Board meeting at the Sheraton in Canton
October 15White Cane Safety Day
November 9-12National Federation of the Blind of Ohio Convention atthe
Sheraton in Canton
