                       THE BRAILLE MONITOR
Vol. 41, No. 6                                         June, 1998

                     Barbara Pierce, Editor


      Published in inkprint, in Braille, and on cassette by

              THE NATIONAL FEDERATION OF THE BLIND

                     MARC MAURER, PRESIDENT


                         National Office
                       1800 Johnson Street
                   Baltimore, Maryland  21230
                   NFB Net BBS: (612) 696-1975
              Web Page address: http://www.nfb.org



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   THE NATIONAL FEDERATION OF THE BLIND IS NOT AN ORGANIZATION
 SPEAKING FOR THE BLIND--IT IS THE BLIND SPEAKING FOR THEMSELVES





ISSN 0006-8829


                            Contents

The Proper Perspective

On the Nature of Mental Discipline and Sonnets
     by Kenneth Jernigan

How NAC Has Learned to Help the Blind
     by Peggy Elliott

Why Accreditation Failed Agencies Serving the
Blind and Visually Impaired
     by C. Edwin Vaughan

Clever Con or Clear Communication?
     by Bruce A. Gardner

Blind Woman Couldn't See Living Without Her Baby
     by Ellen Thompson

Windows 95: Removing the Screen
     by Peter M. Scialli, Ph.D.

From the Technology Department Director's Mail Basket

A Vinegar and Oil Federationist
     by Barbara Walker

What Do You Mean, She Can't Play Soccer?
     by Carla McQuillan

Break Dancing--Lessons in Creativity,
Initiative, and Leadership
     by E. Randy Cox

Recipes

Monitor Miniatures

        Copyright  1998 National Federation of the Blind


     During a 6:30 p.m. reception on April 22, 1998, at the Hyatt
Regency Hotel in Bethesda, Maryland, the National Council of
State Agencies for the Blind (NCSAB) honored President Emeritus
of the National Federation of the Blind Kenneth Jernigan with its
first-ever Lifetime Achievement Award. In fact, two handsome
walnut plaques were presented to Dr. Jernigan, one in Braille and
one in print. The text of the award reads:
                           **********
                     The National Council of
               State Agencies for the Blind, Inc.
                           with honor
                          presents this
                   lifetime achievement award
                               to
                      Dr. Kenneth Jernigan
            in recognition of more than four decades
       of exceptional leadership, advocacy and unwavering
     dedication to promoting the capabilities and fortifying
 respect for the rights of individuals who are blind worldwide.
    This award is given in celebration of the life of one who
    embodies the attributes of courage, spirit and devotion.
                 Know the man--know the legend.
                   Jamie C. Hilton, President
                         April 22, 1998
                           **********
[LEAD PHOTO DESCRIPTION: Dr. Jernigan stands, cane in hand,
displaying his plaque while he listens to Jamie Hilton read the
text aloud. CAPTION: Jamie Hilton, President of the National
Council of State Agencies for the Blind, presents Kenneth
Jernigan with the organization's first Lifetime Achievement
Award.]

[PHOTO/CAPTION: Jamie Hilton and Kenneth Jernigan sit chatting at
a table during the NCSAB reception.]
                           **********
                     The Proper Perspective
                           **********
     From the Editor: On May 1 Dr. Fredric Schroeder,
Commissioner of the Rehabilitation Services Administration, wrote
a thank-you letter to Jamie Hilton, President of the National
Council of State Agencies for the Blind. On one level the note
was a courteous gesture, an expression of personal and
professional gratitude for his inclusion in an event which he had
very much enjoyed. But the letter he wrote articulates the
situation in the blindness field today and describes the
startling changes that have taken place in it during the past
twenty years. Here is the text of Dr. Schroeder's letter:
                           **********
Jamie C. Hilton, President
National Council of State Agencies
for the Blind
Commission for the Blind and
Visually Impaired
New Jersey Department of Human Services
Newark, New Jersey
                           **********
Dear Ms. Hilton:

     I want to thank you for inviting me to participate in last
Wednesday's reception honoring Dr. Jernigan. His selection as the
first-ever recipient of the National Council of State Agencies
for the Blind's Lifetime Achievement Award represents an historic
moment in the affairs of blind people in America.

     Not so very long ago blind people and agencies for the blind
found themselves on opposite sides of many, perhaps most, major
issues. In my own case I remember the resistance and outright
hostility I faced as a young blind person when I sought to enter
the field of Orientation and Mobility. As you know, my interest
in pursuing a career as a cane-travel instructor resulted in a
bitter split between orientation and mobility professionals and
blind people organized through the National Federation of the
Blind.

     But that was twenty years ago, and that time is past. A
transformation has occurred in work with the blind, and that
transformation is due in no small part to Dr. Jernigan's
leadership in bringing cohesive, focused action to formerly
disparate elements in the blindness field.

     Much of what is central to rehabilitation philosophy today
is ideas (often unpopular at the time) which he pioneered decades
ago. Indeed it is very nearly impossible to overstate the key
role Dr. Jernigan has played in our field. His influence has been
and continues to be immeasurable.

     Too often the Federation has been viewed as nothing more
than a political action organization; and, of course, in one
respect it is certainly that. However, at its most fundamental
level the Federation is an organization of blind people who
believe in one another and who demonstrate that belief through
action. By believing in me and by standing with me in the face of
bitter opposition, the Federation helped me sustain the
determination I needed to pursue my professional goals. That was
my experience, and it has been the experience of countless other
blind people.  Through collective action the Federation shows blind people
that they need not live in poverty and isolation but instead can
live as fully integrated members of society. To speed the day
when blind people will attain true social and economic
integration, they must begin to work in partnership with the
governmental and private agencies charged with providing
services. But it must be a partnership based on mutual respect,
which means that the governmental and private agencies must also
be willing to work in true partnership with organizations of the
blind. Dr. Jernigan has taught us the power of collective action,
and it is now time to put that knowledge into practice in new
ways by extending the power of collective action to the work of
organizations of and for the blind.

     I was deeply honored to represent the Rehabilitation
Services Administration and to stand with my colleagues--you and
the other directors of state rehabilitation agencies; Mr. Carl
Augusto, representing the American Foundation for the Blind; Mr.
Kurt Cylke, representing the National Library Service for the
Blind and Physically Handicapped; Ms. Denise Rozell, representing
the Association for Education and Rehabilitation of the Blind and
Visually Impaired; and many others--to see Dr. Jernigan
recognized for his many contributions. It was truly an historic
moment. I know that it must have touched him very deeply to know
that his many years of service, of pressing the system to do
more, of faithful determination to fight for the rights of blind
people (even when his views were unpopular) have resulted today
in unprecedented harmony and cooperation in the blindness field.
As he said last Wednesday evening, "There is great strength in
collective action. Great opportunity comes by working together
toward common goals, but most of all great satisfaction comes
from knowing that together we have done our individual and
collective best to move blind people closer to the day when they
will have the encouragement, training, and self-respect to live
normal lives as normal people."

     I thank you again for allowing me to be part of last
Wednesday's celebration. By honoring Dr. Jernigan, you have
honored the individual, and you have recognized the emergence of
a new day, full of promise, in the lives of blind people
everywhere.
                           **********
                                                       Sincerely,
                                      Fredric K. Schroeder, Ph.D.
                                                     Commissioner
cc:  Dr. Kenneth Jernigan, President Emeritus
     National Federation of the Blind
                           **********
                           **********
[PHOTO/CAPTION: President Maurer (left) and Dr. Jernigan (right)
shake hands at the NCSAB reception.]
         On the Nature of Mental Discipline and Sonnets
                       by Kenneth Jernigan
                           **********

     Recently in North Carolina, when I was undergoing cancer
treatment and having a restless night, I put together a piece for
the Monitor that I have been intending to do for more than thirty
years. I doubt that I will ever write such an article again, but
at least for once here goes.

     From time to time I am asked what technique I use in writing
speeches and articles, and I always give a general or cursory
response. It is not a question of keeping secrets but of
wondering whether the person (even though making the inquiry)
would really want a full explanation if one were offered. Of
course, I could (and usually do) say that writing requires a lot
of time and hard work, but that is a platitude.

     Let's get right to the meat of it. If I am to talk about how
I write speeches and articles, I must discuss the sonnet, which
is the most demanding verse form in the English language. It
requires great mental effort while appearing to be amazingly
simple. As a starter, a sonnet must have fourteen lines--not
thirteen, not fifteen, fourteen. And each line must have exactly
ten syllables--not nine, not eleven, ten. But wait! We are not
through. Each syllable must be precisely placed.

     To explain, I must leave the world of common sense and go to
the rarified esoterica of graduate school literary classes. And
more precisely I must talk about poetic feet. A poetic foot is a
stressed and all associated unstressed syllables, much like a
measure of music.

     But there is more, much more! There are several kinds of
poetic feet, but for our purposes we will deal only with the
iambic. An iambic foot is an unstressed syllable followed by a
stressed syllable. If a line consists of two feet, we call it
dimeter. If it has three feet, we call it trimeter. If it has
four feet, we call it tetrameter. If it has five feet, we call it
pentameter. There is more, but for these purposes that is
sufficient.

     And now we can deal with the sonnet. As I have already said,
it must have fourteen lines of iambic pentameter--not more, not
less.

     And if you think I have finished, be patient. I have only
begun. The sonnet must have a particular rhyme scheme. The last
part of the first line is called "a"--and so is everything that
rhymes with it. Thus, if the first line ends with the word "cat,"
then "that," "hat," "mat," and anything of similar ilk will be
called "a."

     The last part of the first line that is not "a" will be
called "b." Thus, if the line ends with the word "dog," then
"log," "hog," "frog," etc. will be called "b." The next line that
is not "a" or "b" will be called "c"; the next "d"; etc. And
there you have the rhyme scheme for poetry.

     In the English language there are two main kinds of sonnets-
-the Petrarchan, which came first and was named for the Italian
who popularized it, and the Shakespearean, which is of obvious
origin. Each has its own particular and demanding rhyme scheme,
but both require fourteen lines of iambic pentameter.

     The Petrarchan sonnet has a little (but only a little)
flexibility. Its rhyme scheme is "abbaabba, cdecde." The "cde"
lines may vary somewhat in placement, but the first eight lines
may not. Thus, you may have "cc," "dd," "ee." Or you may have
"cd," "cd," "ee." Or you may have any other arrangement you like
for the "cde" lines--so long as you leave the first eight alone.

     As to the Shakespearean sonnet, forget about flexibility. It
isn't there. The rhyme scheme is "abab," "cdcd," "efef," "gg."
Nothing more, nothing less. Take it or leave it.

     Do you think I have finished? Not on your life. There is
more. The first eight lines (I won't bother you with the
technicality of their name) must pose a question or problem. And
the last six (and again I won't bother you with their name) must
give the answer or solution.

     I first tried to write a Shakespearean sonnet in late 1944
or early 1945 when I was a senior in high school. You will
observe that the language is romantic and the sentiment
commensurate. Here it is:
                           **********
          From out the distant realm of higher grace
          Your passing glance illumines all my thought,
          And I do dream of how 'twould be, your face
          With all its wondrous gleams of beauty wrought,
                           **********
          If could I but ascend the filmy clouds
          That do obscure you from my closer view,
          And pierce each vestige of the mist that shrouds
          Each soft and perfect tint, each paling hue;
                           **********
          But could I breach the veil of clinging haze
          That doth impair my vision's clearer sweep,
          Perhaps 'twould serve but to reveal a maze
          Of hidden flaws unseen across the deep.
                           **********
          Tis better thus to worship from afar,
          Where naught but beauty gleams from out the star.
                           **********

     It was not until I was a sophomore in college that I
undertook to write a Petrarchan sonnet. You will observe that by
that time my language had become more down to earth. In fact, my
journalism professor accused me of being a cynic. (I might insert
here that--even though Freud would doubtless disagree--my sonnets
have not primarily been written for philosophical but
disciplinary purposes.) In any case, here is my first Petrarchan
attempt:
                           **********
          Often when I hear a great hero praised
          For some marvelous deed which he has done,
          And I see him basking in the warm sun
          Of fame, his name by all so fondly phrased,
          Or when I see some honest fellow, dazed
          By jeering insult, slandered, loved by none,
          Because of failure, or some goal not won,
          I muse upon the sad prospect amazed.
                           **********
          Cannot mankind this truth of truths perceive,
          This one mighty immortal lesson learn,
          That what we have is ours by circumstance,
          That fate says who shall fail and who achieve,
          And even Solomon's glory did turn
          Upon a trick of near inheritance?
                           **********

     In recent times I have written only Petrarchan sonnets. A
few years back, Mrs. Jernigan and I were driving home from one or
another of the state conventions, and I suddenly heard her say to
me: "Are you singing?"

     "No," I said "I guess I was thinking out loud and trying to
compose a sonnet." Here is what I wrote:
                           **********
          There is no slightest way to comprehend
          The farther reaches of the stream of time,
          Which is not stream but myth that birthed the slime
          Which coalesced to form the thought I send
          To probe the afterwhere of logic's blend
          To seek to find some underlying rhyme
          Or reason as a universal prime
          To answer Einstein's search for means and end.
                           **********
          But if I cannot find the why and how
          Of distant first and just as distant past--
          Or, equal chance, of neither then nor now,
          But circling stream that makes the future past,
          Still must I seek and probe and try to know,
          Because there is no other way to go.
                           **********

     My last effort at writing a sonnet was at least a year or
two ago. Here it is. You will observe that I even went so far as
to give it a name:
                           **********
                          To Heisenberg
                           **********
          Perhaps my final breath will gently go
          In restful sleep or age or other way,
          As uneventful as the close of day
          When only soft and quiet breezes blow
          To mark the undramatic ebb and flow
          Of all that lives and turns again to clay.
          But just as like, my life may end in fray.
          We dream and speculate but cannot know.
                           **********
          Yet, if the veil that hides what is to be
          Could lift to show us at a single glance
          The full procession of our future time,
          The knowledge got would rob us of romance,
          Would trade our will for one compelling prime.
          We would be slaves, unable to be free.
                           **********

     There are two sonnets by American authors that I regard as
outstanding. They are "Nature" by Longfellow and "Tears" by
Reese. And even the Longfellow poem is flawed since two syllables
have to be run together to make it scan. However, the sonnet that
I have taken as my model of excellence was written by a
Britisher. I committed it to memory when I was in high school and
have referred to it ever since. It is "Remember" by Christina
Rossetti:
                           **********
          Remember me when I am gone away,
          Gone far away into the silent land;
          When you can no more hold me by the hand,
          Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay.
          Remember me when no more day by day
          You tell me of our future that you planned:
          Only remember me; you understand
          It will be late to counsel then or pray.
                           **********
          Yet, if you should forget me for a while
          And afterwards remember, do not grieve:
          For if the darkness and corruption leave
          A vestige of the thoughts that once I had,
          Better by far you should forget and smile
          Than that you should remember and be sad.
                           **********

     So there you have my favorite sonnet and also some of my
techniques for writing. Of course, there is much more to be said
to round out the picture. I could, for instance, talk about
dactylic, trochaic, and anapestic rhythms; about tercets and
sestets; or about hexameters and other such. But I think I have
said enough to make the point.

     So what does all of this have to do with mental discipline
and writing speeches and articles? If I have to tell you, it
probably won't do any good. To those who say that I have gone
over the edge and lost touch with reality, I reply that I have
not forgotten how to engage in combat or street fighting and that
I still know how to relate to the members at the National
Convention. It can be put to the test. To those who say that
madness is indicated, I respond that everybody has (or probably
should have) at least a touch of insanity. If (assuming you
choose to do so) you want to remember me in the future, think of
the sonnet, for of such is the stuff of life--at least, of my
life.

     As A. E. Housman said:
                           **********
          Oh, when I was in love with you,
          Then I was clean and brave;
          And miles around the wonder grew
          How well did I behave.
                           **********
          And now the fancy passes by,
          And nothing will remain,
          And miles around they'll say that I
          Am quite myself again.
                           **********
                           **********

     You can create a gift annuity by transferring money or
property to the National Federation of the Blind. In turn, the
NFB contracts to pay you income for life or your spouse or loved
ones after your death. How much you and your heirs receive as
income depends on the amount of the gift and your age when
payments begin. You will receive a tax deduction for the full
amount of your contribution, less the value of the income the NFB
pays to you or your heirs.

     You would be wise to consult an attorney or accountant when
making such arrangements so that he or she can assist you to
calculate current IRS regulations and the earning potential of
your funds. The following example illustrates how a charitable
gift annuity can work to your advantage.

     Mary Jones, age sixty-five, decides to set up a charitable
gift annuity by transferring $10,000 to the NFB. In return the
NFB agrees to pay Mary a lifetime annuity of $750 per year, of
which $299 is tax-free. Mary is also allowed to claim a tax
deduction of $4,044 in the year the NFB receives the $10,000
contribution.

     For more information about charitable gift annuities,
contact the National Federation of the Blind, Special Gifts, 1800
Johnson Street, Baltimore, Maryland 21230-4998, (410) 659-9314,
fax (410) 685-5653.
                           **********
                           **********
[PHOTO DESCRIPTION: The picture is of the fairy tale and cartoon
character Pinocchio.]
[CAPTION: Like Pinocchio, the National Accreditation Council
began life as a puppet. Unlike NAC, however, Pinocchio eventually
became an independent, living being. You will remember that
Pinocchio's nose grew longer each time he told a lie. Here Peggy
Elliott points out a related phenomenon which occurs whenever NAC
makes its claims of excellence and usefulness.] (Photo adapted
from an illustration by Richard Floethe)
              How NAC Has Learned to Help the Blind
                        by Peggy Elliott
                           **********

     From the Editor: For a number of years now NFB Second Vice
President Peggy Elliott has been reporting periodically on the
slow but steady decline of the National Accreditation Council for
Agencies Serving the Blind and Visually Handicapped (NAC). Ruth
Westman, Executive Director of NAC for several years, recently
retired. Gerald Mundy came out of retirement after years as the
director of the Clovernook Center in Cincinnati to take on the
leadership of NAC, which means that its address has moved from
New York City to Ohio--not an acquisition to make Ohioans proud.
The 1997 year-end report from NAC is in, and the trends are
happily, but not surprisingly, still the same. Here is Peggy's
report:
                           **********

     Ah, Pinocchio! You have had a long run as the only person in
history or story whose appearance is affected by what you say.
Every time you lie, your nose gets longer. Well, move over,
Pinocchio. Your legend is about to be replaced by a piece of real
history. Tell me, Pinocchio, have you ever heard of NAC?

     You say you haven't? And I notice that your nose did not
lengthen even one centimeter when you said that. You're one of a
growing number of living, breathing souls who have never heard of
NAC. In fact, the NAC-free environment is expanding all the time.
So let me clue you in. NAC is the National Accreditation Council
for Agencies Serving the Blind and Visually Handicapped. Yes, I
know, it's a botherationally long name. That's why everyone
forced to speak of it calls it NAC.

     NAC was founded in 1966 with great fanfare and grandiose
claims that it would soon set the standards for the entire
blindness field, accredit all the worthy agencies, be the
recognized symbol for excellence in the field. For a time NAC
grew. Then, my dear Pinocchio, things changed.

     You see, NAC forgot the National Federation of the Blind.
Or, more precisely, NAC was founded by people who feared and
distrusted the growing power of the organized blind movement.
Their intention in establishing NAC was to insure that the
consumer voice would never be effective in shaping agency policy
in the blindness field. But NAC's founders misjudged one little
thing: the determination of blind people to be free and to have a

say in how that freedom was defined. NAC and its backers thought
it should do all the defining.
     Then, my dear Pinocchio, a funny thing happened. Well, given
your own nasal circumstances, you might not consider it
particularly funny. But it happened, nevertheless. Agencies
started withdrawing from NAC and working with Federationists to
make positive change. More and more it became obvious to the
blindness community that NAC-accredited agencies were not
interested in positive change, in working cooperatively with
blind people. As a result NAC standards are now widely viewed as
irrelevant. Its old-boy-network method of re-accreditation has
become a joke. No one has ever heard of a NAC agency's losing its
accreditation because of failure to meet standards. In fact,
numerous agencies over the years stopped paying their annual
dues, and NAC kept them on its list of accredited members, hoping
they would return to the fold.

     Here's where you come in, Pinocchio. NAC bragged in its
early years, as it worked at spreading itself across the face of
work with the blind, that its professionalism was unequaled and
its power unstoppable. Its rhetoric has not changed as views
about it have altered. NAC still proclaims its virtue, its
rectitude, its value for all blind people. But take heed,
Pinocchio. Every time such proclamations are made, NAC's list of
accredited agencies gets shorter. Beware, Pinocchio. Your
legendary nose and your reputation have now been overshadowed by
real-world events.

     The face of the blindness field has indeed changed in the
past thirty-some years. But the change has not been wrought by
NAC. With each passing year, NAC's list gets shorter, and the
influence of the National Federation of the Blind gets wider and
deeper. You see, Pinocchio, the thing NAC was most afraid of is
the thing that has happened. Blind people themselves are now
decision-makers, the ones in charge, participants seated at the
table. The more this happens, the shorter NAC's list grows. Move
over, Pinocchio. The increasing length of your nose is no longer
the story. Speak up, NAC. Every time you brag, your list gets
shorter. NAC, we can't hear you! Speak up, NAC! It helps all
blind people to be free.

     Notes on NAC: In its thirty-two years of existence, 132
agencies have at one time or another been associated with NAC.
Today only fifty-three, 40 percent of the total, remain
associated; seventy-nine have dropped NAC. Today only one state
vocational rehabilitation agency is accredited by NAC, the one in
Florida. The other twelve which were once accredited have now
dropped NAC as irrelevant to their mission while the other state
agencies never bothered to accredit in the first place. Today
eleven schools for the blind are accredited though there are more
than seventy in our country. Nineteen others were once accredited
and have now dropped NAC. Today sixteen workshops for the blind
are accredited by NAC though there are eighty workshops in the
country. Twenty-four workshops were once accredited and have now
dropped NAC. Of the three mainline types of agencies serving the
blind in our country (state vocational rehabilitation agencies,
schools, and workshops), NAC has a tiny minority of each on its
approved list. Of the rest, a majority of each type never
accredited at all, and most of the minority which sought NAC
accreditation at one time have now dropped it.

     The remainder of NAC's accredited members are smaller
agencies, serving cities or regions of a state. This group of
smaller agencies is now almost a majority of the entire list of
NAC members. NAC's accreditation fees and annual dues are much
higher than those charged by other accrediting bodies, so the
adherence of these smaller agencies has always been something of
a mystery when tight budgets and tough fund-raising are
considered. The picture becomes a little clearer when one notes
that the states of Florida and Ohio condition or seem to
condition many grants and contracts on NAC accreditation.
Questioning members of the blind community in these two states
does not, however, yield a picture of perfect service and
contented blind customers. We can only hope that NAC will make
more claims of fine service in these two states so that its list
will grow even shorter.

     In calendar 1997 NAC lost six more agencies from its
accredited list and added no new ones. We can all hope that NAC
continues to laud itself and that 1998 will bring about even more
departures from the NAC list. In 1990 NAC had ninety-eight
accredited agencies with which to begin the decade. In the eight
years since then nine agencies, swimming determinedly against the
current, have joined NAC for the first time, an average of about
one a year, though four of these are located in Florida and Ohio,
where misguided rules encourage accreditation, and one of the
nine has already dropped back off the NAC rolls again. Starting
with ninety-eight and adding nine yields a total number of
adherents any time in this decade of 107. But fifty-four agencies
associated with NAC at some time during the decade have now
dropped that association, leaving a remnant of fifty-three now
approved by NAC. I wish that someone could tell me what these
fifty-three agencies think they are getting in exchange for their
annual NAC dues beyond ridicule and disrupted relations with the
blind community in their states.

     Finally we should note that half the states are now a
NAC-free environment and that seventeen more have only one
accredited agency within their borders. Florida has almost one
quarter of all the accredited agencies, and six states (Florida,
Ohio, Tennessee, Pennsylvania, Georgia, and Illinois) are home to
more than half the accredited agencies still clinging to NAC.
Check with blind friends in these states to determine the quality
of services as compared to national trends. You'll find the
picture unflattering to NAC and its talk about quality service.
Speak up, NAC. We can't hear you. And move over, Pinocchio. It's
likely that 1998 will be another shortening year for NAC.
                           **********
States That Can Boast a NAC-Free Environment:
Alaska
Colorado
Connecticut
Delaware
District of Columbia
Hawaii
Idaho
Kentucky
Louisiana
Massachusetts
Mississippi
Montana
Nebraska
Nevada
New Jersey
New Mexico
North Carolina
Oregon
Puerto Rico
Rhode Island
South Carolina
Vermont
Virginia
West Virginia
Wisconsin
Wyoming
                           **********
States That Have Only One NAC-Accredited Agency:
Alabama
Arizona
Arkansas
Indiana
Iowa
Kansas
Maine
Maryland
Minnesota
Missouri
New Hampshire
North Dakota
Oklahoma
South Dakota
Texas
Utah
Washington
                           **********
NAC-Accredited Organizations: (States listed alphabetically)
Alabama:
     Alabama Institute for Deaf and Blind
Arizona:
     The Foundation for Blind Children
Arkansas:
     Lions World Services for the Blind
California:
     The Center for the Partially Sighted
     Sacramento Society for the Blind
Florida:
     Center for the Visually Impaired, Inc.
     Conklin Center for Multihandicapped Blind
     Division of Blind Services, Florida Department of Labor and
          Employment Security
     The Florida School for the Blind
     Independence for the Blind, Inc.
     The Lighthouse for the Visually Impaired and Blind, Inc.
     Lighthouse of Broward County, Inc.
     Mana-Sota Lighthouse for the Blind, Inc.
     The Miami Lighthouse for the Blind
     Pinellas Center for the Visually Impaired, Inc.
     Tampa Lighthouse for the Blind
     Visually Impaired Persons of Southwest Florida, Inc.
Georgia:
     Blind and Low Vision Services of North Georgia
     Center for the Visually Impaired, Inc.
     Georgia Academy for the Blind
     Savannah Association for the Blind, Inc.
Illinois:
     The Chicago Lighthouse for People Who Are Blind or Visually
          Impaired
     Deicke Center for Visual Rehabilitation
     Philip J. Rock Center and School
Indiana:
     Indiana School for the Blind
Iowa:
     Genesis Vision Rehabilitation Institute
Kansas:
     Envision
Maine:
     Maine Center for the Blind and Visually Impaired
Maryland:
     The Maryland School for the Blind
Michigan:
     Upshaw Institute for the Blind
     Association for the Blind and Visually Impaired
     The Visually Impaired Center, Inc.
Minnesota:
     The Lighthouse, Duluth, for the Blind, Inc.
Missouri:
     Alphapointe Association for the Blind
New Hampshire:
     New Hampshire Association for the Blind
New York:
     Association for the Visually Impaired, Inc.
     Blind Association of Western New York
     The New York Institute for Special Education
North Dakota:
     North Dakota School for the Blind
Ohio:
     Cincinnati Association for the Blind
     The Clovernook Center--Opportunities for the Blind
     The Sight Center, Toledo
     Vision Center of Central Ohio, Inc.
Oklahoma:
     Parkview School (Oklahoma School for the Blind)
Pennsylvania:
     Pittsburgh Blind Association and Greater Pittsburgh Guild
          for the Blind (both were individually accredited, but
          after consolidation are seeking accreditation under the
          name of Pittsburgh Vision Services.
     Susquehanna Association for the Blind and Vision Impaired
South Dakota:
     South Dakota School for the Visually Handicapped
Tennessee:
     The Alliance for the Blind and Visually Impaired, Inc.
     Ed Lindsey Industries for the Blind, Inc.
     Lions Volunteer Blind Industries, Inc.
Texas:
     Dallas Lighthouse for the Blind, Inc.
Utah:
     Utah Schools for the Deaf and the Blind
Washington:
     The Lighthouse for the Blind, Inc.
                           **********
[GRAPHIC: United States map. DESCRIPTION: The states with no NAC
agencies are unshaded. Those with one NAC agency have cross-
hatching, and those with more than one NAC agency are solidly
shaded.]
                           **********
                           **********
[PHOTO/CAPTION: C. Edwin Vaughan]
          Why Accreditation Failed Agencies Serving the
                   Blind and Visually Impaired
                       by C. Edwin Vaughan
                           **********
     From the Editor: The following article first appeared in the
January/February/March, 1997, issue of the Journal of
Rehabilitation. Ed Vaughan is a long-time member of the National
Federation of the Blind of Missouri and a published authority on
the history and sociology of blindness and the blindness field.
Many of us in the Federation have lived the history Ed summarizes
in this piece, but it is interesting and instructive to review
the whole sorry mess that has been made of accreditation in the
blindness field. We would all be wise to remember what has
happened during the last forty years in order to see that the
same mistakes are not made in the future. Here is Ed Vaughan's
paper:
                           **********
     Four major organizations provide national accrediting
services for rehabilitation agencies. National accreditation
becomes increasingly important when both consumers of services
and those who provide economic support for these agencies expect
increased accountability. The most specialized of these national
agencies is the National Accreditation Council for Agencies
Serving the Blind and Visually Handicapped (NAC). NAC grew out of
a two-year planning process which culminated in the establishment
of the new accrediting organization in 1967. Its founders
envisioned accrediting more than five hundred agencies that
provided education and rehabilitation services to people who are
blind.

     Throughout its history NAC has been opposed by well-
organized consumers of services and has not attracted the support
of most agencies. It has never reached its envisioned goals and
is now declining. This article reviews the history of this
accrediting organization and discusses the reasons for continuous
and intense consumer and professional resistance. It analyzes why
different occupational groups within this field failed to unite
in support of NAC and provides data documenting its rapid decline
during the past decade. The article concludes by exploring
available alternatives for agencies in the blindness field when
accreditation fails.

     Currently there are at least four organizations providing
nationwide accreditation services: the Accreditation Council on
Services for People with Disabilities (ACD), the Commission on
Accreditation of Rehabilitation Facilities (CARF), the Joint
Commission on the Accreditation of Health Care Organizations, and
the National Accreditation Council for Agencies Serving the Blind
and Visually Handicapped (NAC). These accreditation programs
frequently focus on a particular aspect of rehabilitation, such
as blindness, developmental disabilities, or medical aspects of
rehabilitation not necessarily related to vocational
rehabilitation.

     Rehabilitation usually involves a continuum of services, and
comprehensive agencies try to provide a continuum of care or
services. Accreditation becomes a general concern when the
accrediting organizations themselves become specialized and may
only be able to accredit certain aspects of an agency's complete
program (Grove, 1995).

     Some states require any agencies receiving state
appropriations to be certified. Such certification is sometimes
done in house, using state employees for the certification
process. Other states, such as Missouri, require that agencies
receiving state funding have some form of national accreditation.
This brings a national perspective to the state-funded programs
and does not require the direct use of state funds, which can
then be used for client services (Solum, 1995).

     The cost of national accreditation is becoming an issue with
some agencies. The cost usually varies with the size and
complexity of a rehabilitation program. For example, the
Accreditation Council for Services for People with Disabilities
may charge as little as $3,000 and as much as $18,000. The larger
figure would be for a complex agency with several locations. A
typical figure would be $8,000 for a two-year accreditation
(Nudler, 1995).

     Accrediting agencies are created to assure the public that
economic resources are properly utilized, that facilities are
both safe and adequate, and that they have a properly educated
staff. Duplication of programs can be minimized and, as the
process of professionalization continues, task differentiation
can be certified (Rothman, 1987). As a profession develops, it
tends to seek increasing control over the organizational settings
where services are provided (Abbott, 1988; Larson, 1977). This
frequently produces internal conflicts as agencies resist
external domination. Conflicts within a profession and consumer
criticism and opposition may become insurmountable barriers for
an accrediting organization. This paper analyzes the sources of
the decline of the National Accreditation Council for Agencies
Serving the Blind and Visually Handicapped and suggests
alternatives for a more effective accreditation program.

     Following World War II there was a rapid growth in the
number of agencies serving the blind and visually impaired. With
this growth came concerns about the quality of programs and the
qualifications of professional workers. This concern led to the
development of the National Accreditation Council for Agencies
Serving the Blind and Visually Handicapped in 1967. NAC began
with great expectations among professionals who work with the
blind and visually impaired.

     However, it never met the expectation that it would become
financially self-supporting and at its height accredited only a
small portion of the agencies and organizations in the field of
blindness. It has been in decline for the past decade and has
been consistently opposed by the largest consumer organization of
blind people, the National Federation of the Blind (NFB). It
recently lost the financial support of the American Foundation
for the Blind (AFB). The AFB had been crucial in providing the
financial and staff resources for the process that led to the
creation of NAC and had been its largest single source of
financial support for over fifteen years. In 1994 the United
States Secretary of Education informed the National Accreditation
Council that it had been dropped from the Secretary of
Education's list of recognized national accrediting agencies
(Pierce, 1995).

     As this paper will show, the number of agencies accredited
by NAC has been dropping steadily for the past nine years, moving
from a high of one hundred and four to its present sixty-four.
NAC's decline comes at a time of increasing national concern
about accountability and an increasing emphasis upon the outcome
of education and rehabilitation programs (Szymanski & Linkowski,
1995).
                           **********
                         Origins of NAC
                           **********

     Two years of a carefully planned organizational effort
leading to the formal establishment of NAC attracted both
consumer and professional criticism. Disregarded criticism led to
a lukewarm support from agency professionals and intense consumer
opposition; more articles have appeared in the Braille Monitor
about the failures of accreditation than on any other single
topic. For more than fifteen years large numbers of blind people,
usually between two hundred to three hundred fifty, have come
from all over the United States to demonstrate publicly against
the failures of NAC (Rabby, 1984).

     To understand the roots of this conflict, it is necessary to
examine some of the developments in the field of work with the
blind over the three decades preceding the establishment of the
National Accreditation Council. It is then possible to analyze
the process by which the new agency was established, along with
its goals and early successes. It is also important to consider
the reasons it was continually opposed by consumers and why it
has been ignored or boycotted by many agencies and professionals
working with people who are blind.

     Before World War II most teaching of the blind occurred
either in special institutions, in schools for the blind, or in a
home setting by itinerant home teachers. Beginning shortly after
World War II, rehabilitation centers were established in several
parts of the United States. The number of blinded war veterans
and the financial support from the Veterans Administration were
one source of this growth. These centers, sometimes developed in
tandem with sheltered workshops, aimed at helping blind people
adjust to their blindness, learn skills, and be evaluated for
vocational training or educational purposes.

     As early as 1932 there was concern about the degree or
adequacy of the training of home teachers of the blind. These
teachers were mainly women, and the majority were blind. They
found themselves interacting with the rapidly expanding
profession of social work, which was developing its own standards
for educational requirements. In 1932 a regional organization of
home teachers appointed its own committee to develop minimum
standards of practice (Koestler, 1976).

     Further impetus toward standards came from the federal
government in the 1939 amendments to the Social Security Act. All
persons employed in the federally funded welfare programs would
have to participate in a merit system. "In many states the
commission for the blind would have to meet the same civil
service standards as those of the sighted civil service workers
employed in other facets of welfare assistance" (Koestler, 1976,
p. 291). As Koestler noted, the question arose whether or not
blind people employed as home teachers would lose their jobs or
be replaced by more educationally qualified sighted teachers. The
possible displacement of blind workers was the earliest source of
resistance.

     In 1938 the American Foundation for the Blind convened a
special conference to work out the philosophy and principles of
home teaching. Following this, the American Association of
Workers for the Blind (AAWB) appointed a board for certification
of home teachers. The new standards were adopted by the 1941
convention of the AAWB and included two levels. Class 1 required
two years of college training including courses in social work
and education. In addition, Braille, typing, and proficiency in
six handicraft skills were required. Four years of experience
could be substituted for the college training. Class 2 required
completion of the college course work of Class 1 and at least one
year of postgraduate training in social work. In 1947 the annual
convention of AAWB was informed that sixty Class 1 and three
Class 2 certificates had been granted (Koestler, 1976).

     Reporting as chairman of a 1952 committee to explore
standards, Roberta Townsend stated to the 1953 AAWB convention
that a lack of unanimity of thought and standards had resulted in
"many sporadic programs" and frequent duplication of services.
Following her report, the AAWB adopted a resolution "asking that
`a manual be devised of useful criteria and standards for the
guidance of agencies' and that it be developed by the American
Foundation for the Blind" (Koestler, 1976, p. 340). In the same
year the organization issued another blunt report criticizing
empty or shallow agencies which provided almost no services but
sought funds from the public, ostensibly to provide help to the
blind. It noted that more than six hundred agencies for the blind
were making conflicting approaches to the public for support with
sometimes counterproductive results. Both reports led to a
growing concern for standards which would result in a seal of
approval for agencies in compliance with the agreed-upon
criteria.

     In 1956 the Federal Office of Vocational Rehabilitation,
with the American Foundation for the Blind, sponsored a
conference intended to develop principles and standards to guide
proliferation of work for the blind. Development had been rapid
because of the increasing support from the federal government in
areas such as the Veterans Administration, the Office of
Vocational Rehabilitation, and the Hill-Burton Act, which made
funds available for constructing rehabilitation facilities
independent of hospitals themselves. Private agencies serving the
blind were growing in both number and size in almost every large
American city.

     The 1956 conference invited carefully selected workers in
the field of blindness. As Koestler notes, many of these were the
same individuals who had met at previous AFB-sponsored
conferences to deal with standards and accreditation. "Out of the
work of the seventeen people who spent five days in sub-
committees and general sessions came a set of precepts that
largely foreshadowed the standards later adopted by COMSTAC"
(1976, p. 297). The Commission on Standards and Accreditation of
Services for the Blind (COMSTAC) would lead to the establishment
of the National Accreditation Council.

     Robert Barnett, then President of the American Foundation
for the Blind, recognized that a structured process which would
involve standards and a method of implementing them would be
necessary to achieve the maximum benefits for blind people, given
the proliferation of agencies and funds available for
rehabilitative services. Following this lead, the President of
the AFB Board in 1961 said, "It is not our intention that the
American Foundation for the Blind will itself conduct a policing
program, but rather that it will arrange to expedite a service
program of evaluation and accreditation which would find its
authority in a democratic representation of all legitimate
interests in this field" (Koestler, 1976, p. 342).

     As this article will subsequently show, the conflict that
swirled around this accreditation effort resulted, in part, from
confusion about the meaning of "democratic representation of all
legitimate interests in this field." It later became a central
contention of the leadership of the only national organization of
blind people existing at that time that, not only were blind
people not adequately represented, but the entire process leading
to the National Accreditation Council was tightly managed by a
small group of professionals and orchestrated by the American
Foundation for the Blind (Vaughan, 1993).

     In 1962 an ad hoc committee appointed by the American
Foundation for the Blind recommended that an autonomous
commission be appointed to develop standards and regulations and
to create a permanent accrediting body. The American Foundation
for the Blind agreed to finance the commission's work partially
while allowing it autonomy. Over the four years of the
commission's work, the AFB provided $300,000 plus the labor of
many of its staff members, while an additional $138,000 was
obtained from three private foundations and the Vocational
Rehabilitation Administration.

     The resulting committee reports were reviewed at a
conference attended by more than four hundred people in 1965, and
the revised standards appeared in "The COMSTAC Report: Standards
for Strength in Services." This report recommended that an
organization be established to carry out the accreditation
process. Thus the National Accreditation Council for Agencies
Serving the Blind and Visually Handicapped was established in
1967 with Arthur Brandon, the former chair of the COMSTAC, as its
first president. A. F. Handel, the new executive director, had
also been executive director of COMSTAC.

     The founders of NAC projected a ten-year plan, which would
conclude with levels of economic support sufficient to eliminate
external subsidy. The organization would be supported by fees
paid by the agencies seeking accreditation. To underwrite the
program during the developmental phase, the American Foundation
for the Blind and the Vocational Rehabilitation Administration
assumed the greatest burdens. By 1972 NAC had accredited forty-
seven agencies with approximately fifty more involved in some
stage of the accreditation process (Koestler, 1976). By 1972 it
was apparent that self-sufficiency was not possible, and it would
require an additional period of subsidizing.

     The enthusiasm for NAC was not unanimous. Support was
concentrated in larger private agencies. Koestler's
interpretation of reasons for resistance or lack of enthusiasm on
the part of some groups included the following: 1) Professional
standards might threaten the positions held by some blind people
who might not measure up to new requirements in public and
private agencies; and 2) the interests of blind people working in
sheltered workshops were threatened by an accreditation process
that might ignore their concerns about minimum wage, collective
bargaining, and other labor-practice issues (Koestler, 1976).

     Consumer literature reflected a concern that a small group
of self-designated professional staff people had their own agenda
for managing and controlling the field of blindness. Consumer
groups particularly argued that they had been under-represented
and even ignored in the COMSTAC process. However, before turning
to the consumers' point of view, we will review some of the early
reported enthusiasm by the officers of NAC as well as some
agencies who experienced accreditation.

     The first accreditations were granted in 1968 and were
lauded in the first annual report of NAC. Its president
commented, "The ferment continues. Out of it will come rising
numbers of accredited agencies giving even better service to the
blind and visually handicapped. And even as the numbers grow, the
ferment spreads" (NAC Annual Report, 1968). The first three
accredited agencies were proud of their accomplishments and began
immediately using the seal of approval on their stationery and in
their publicity.

     In NAC's first years a three hundred forty-two page study
guide was published. The check list and rating scales, intended
to guide self-study, covered eleven aspects of agency activity:
function and structure, financial accounting and service
reporting, personnel administration and volunteer service,
physical facilities, public relations and fund raising, library
services, orientation and mobility services, rehabilitation
centers, sheltered workshops (in multi-service agencies), social
services, and vocational services.

     The professional literature, as reflected in the two major
journals of that time, presented no critique of COMSTAC or the
resulting accreditation agency, NAC. Articles extolled the
virtues of being accredited. The strongest agencies would be
further challenged, and the weakest improved. Through the self-
study process staff members would be exposed to national
perspectives, and agencies would no longer be isolated. Facility
improvements could become the basis of fund-raising appeals based
on the need to be nationally accredited. NAC had been created as
the only source of the seal of approval.
                           **********
                      Consumer Perspective
                           **********
     During the period discussed in this article, the National
Federation of the Blind, founded in 1940, was the only broad-
based organization of blind people. Its regular publication, the
Braille Monitor, focused on the harm caused by "custodialism,"
any practice which diminished the independent living capabilities
of blind people. While a fairly small group of carefully selected
leaders in the profession were developing the process and agenda
for COMSTAC, the Braille Monitor was publishing articles about
agencies and practices which, it alleged, provided either
exploitative or unequal treatment to clients receiving
rehabilitation services. For example, in May, 1963, the journal
described the firing of forty blind people from the Berkeley
workshop of California Industries for the Blind. They were laid
off because of their demands for better pay and their efforts to
organize a labor union. In September, 1964, an article entitled
"Struggle Against Odds" in the Braille Monitor described the
efforts of its members in New Mexico to obtain an orientation
center for their state (Matson, 1963).

     During the years immediately preceding the creation of
COMSTAC, members of the National Federation of the Blind and of
other organizations such as the Blinded Veterans Association were
working to improve the economic and social conditions faced by
blind people. There were requests for new rehabilitation centers
and union recognition of employees of sheltered workshops,
demands for better pay for blind workers in these workshops, and
the initiation of many types of legislation to benefit blind
people. Prominent national political leaders such as Senators
Robert Kennedy, Vance Hartke, and Frank Moss spoke at the NFB
National Convention in 1965 praising the Federation's efforts on
behalf of blind people. More than one hundred Congressmen
attended the conference's final banquet.

     Clearly the National Federation of the Blind was a strong
and growing force in the struggle for equal opportunities for
blind people. As its journal suggested, the Federation frequently
worked with private and state agencies in mutual efforts to
secure improved legislation and new programs. However, there
appears to have been almost no relationship between the rapidly
growing organized movement of blind people and the relatively
small leadership group which had been shepherding the effort to
professionalize the field of work for the blind (Vaughan, 1993).

     Opposition to NAC had been voiced even before NAC was
created. In 1965 tenBroek stated, "Organizations of the blind
themselves, such as the National Federation of the Blind, have
been conspicuously absent from the roster of groups and
individuals asked to formulate supposedly objective `standards'
to be applied to all organizations in the field" (1965, p. 25).

     Many articles would soon appear claiming that the American
Foundation for the Blind and a related social network of
professionals were attempting to dominate and control all
agencies. The National Federation of the Blind was founded in
1940. Its purpose was to empower blind people--so that they would
not be taken care of but would instead take care of themselves.
However, because the COMSTAC Commission and the establishment of
the National Accreditation Council occurred in the 1960's, the
decade of the equality revolution in the United States, the
reaction of the National Federation of the Blind was probably
more intense than it would have been at an earlier time (Gans,
1974). Almost every minority and gender group in the United
States was demanding equal treatment. The convergence of the
interests of these different movements brought political
responses leading to the civil rights legislation of that decade.
Self-determination and full participation were in the air.

     Professionals in the blindness field who were providing
leadership during the COMSTAC period could not have picked a less
propitious time to launch a new program and organization which
did not include the full participation of the consumers in a
rapidly growing social movement of blind people dedicated to
self-determination. Dr. Jacobus tenBroek, President of the
National Federation of the Blind during this period, was a
nationally recognized scholar in the field of welfare rights,
showing interest in and participating in other social movements
of that day (Vaughan, 1993). He also served as chairman of the
California Board of Social Welfare.

     Through 1966 articles appeared in the Braille Monitor
condemning a lack of consumer participation in the planning
process and the regressive nature of many recommendations being
proposed for the future NAC. The Commission was criticized for
institutionalizing practices resulting in dependency. To many
blind people as well as to several agency directors, a small
group of professionals with similar and overlapping institutional
affiliations were trying to dominate the field of rehabilitation
through a new inclusive organization, which was saddled with
negative and regressive assumptions about blindness (Vaughan,
1993).

     The gulf between the organized blind movement and the
professionals in charge of COMSTAC is perhaps illustrated most
clearly in a February 14, 1966, letter from the President of the
National Federation of the Blind to Arthur L. Brandon:
                           **********
     Our right to participate in the preparation of plans for our
     own lives and our own future--or if you will, in the
     formulation of standards for our institutions and services--
     cannot any longer be casually spurned as if it were an
     argument about the formulation of a standard or the
     punctuation of a sentence. That right is not in any sense
     complied with by a form request to any of us to submit our
     views, which the professionals then may not pay attention to
     in their work on our lives (tenBroek, 1966, p. 26).
                           **********

     Koestler observed that opposition to COMSTAC and NAC also
came from blind workers whose positions were threatened by
professional standards. She noted that some groups objected to
work conditions, labor practices, and low wages being paid in
sheltered workshops, many of which were or would be accredited
and given the seal of approval by NAC.

     In a 1971 convention address Dr. Kenneth Jernigan made clear
that the NFB's quarrel with the National Accreditation Council
was neither over the concept of accreditation nor because of
efforts to improve services to blind people. In this same speech
Jernigan explained his perception of NAC and the way it operated.
Consumer participation was minimal--tokenism. To Jernigan, key
issues not included in NAC's purview were as follows: "...does
the shop pay at least minimum wage? Do its workers have the
rights associated with collective bargaining? What sort of image
of blindness does it present to the public?" (pp. 21-22).
Jernigan felt that board members were not aware of these issues
and not aware of the significance of consumers' almost complete
exclusion from the board (Jernigan, pp. 21-22).

     Over the next twenty years an average of seven articles per
year appeared critiquing and exposing alleged and documented
shortcomings of NAC-accredited agencies. Up until 1990 the annual
NAC board meetings were picketed by two to three hundred blind
people who traveled from all over the United States to meeting
sites (Rabby, 1984). In almost every state Federation members
continually tried, often with success, to persuade agencies to
disassociate from NAC. The conflict has become a struggle with no
middle ground.

     However, the criticism of NAC has been ignored within the
professional literature of blindness rehabilitation. The issue
was too divisive for a nascent organization of professionals.
Some small agencies did not want to incur the cost of
accreditation. The various professions comprising the field--work
for the blind--had long histories of being independent. Although
they were now merged in one professional organization, principals
and teachers in schools for the blind had different traditions
and social networks than the private agencies, which often
represent social work activities. Each state also now had its own
rehabilitation programs funded with public money and had become
yet another stake holder in this field. Many professionals from
these three areas saw no reason to incur costs and give up
autonomy to a new national accrediting organization.
                           **********
                      The Present Situation
                           **********

     However, in the past two years there have been a declining
base of economic support and failure to accredit even a small
portion of agencies and programs serving the blind and visually
impaired. The National Accreditation Council is in crisis and by
only a slight margin failed to vote for its own dissolution.

     The high point for NAC accreditation, according to its
annual reports, was 1986 when one hundred four agencies were
listed as accredited. "On February 21, 1991, the National
Industries for the Blind officially announced that its funding of
NAC would cease in June, 1991, and the American Foundation for
the Blind made the same decision shortly thereafter" (Vaughan,
1993, p. 159). On April 7, 1991, the NAC board met to consider
its financial crisis. The board then voted by a twelve to two
vote to disband NAC. Subsequently, the board learned that a vote
by the entire membership was required for dissolution. On May 5,
1991, with ten members present and ninety-one proxy votes, the
National Accreditation Council voted fifty-three to forty-eight
to continue its accreditation efforts (Megivern, 1991). The
president and vice president of the board resigned after this
vote.

     The Association for the Education and Rehabilitation for the
Blind and Visually Impaired (AER) is the most influential and
comprehensive professional organization in the field of blindness
rehabilitation. In her coverage of NAC's problems, Megivern
(1991) in her AER Reports mentions NAC's financial problems and
its failure to accredit new agencies. She provides no background
information concerning these failures but does report that
business goes on as usual.

     The following table (Pierce, 1995) illustrates the decline
in the number of agencies accredited and displays the ratio of
accredited agencies to potentially accreditable agencies:
                           **********
               Decline in NAC-Accredited Agencies
                         1990      1992      1994
Schools for the Blind:   26/71*    20/71     18/71
State Vocational
Rehabilitation Agencies: 10/52     5/52      4/52
Sheltered Workshops:     33/82     21/82     18/82
Regional or City-Based
Private Agencies:**      28        32        29
Total                    97        78        69
                           **********
               *X/Y: X equals number of NAC accredited agencies
                    Y equals total number possible
               **The number of private agencies fluctuates from
               year to year
                           **********

     The consumer criticism, particularly from within the
National Federation of the Blind, continues to include an
unrelenting effort of investigative journalism concerning
agencies that have come to the attention of the general public
for either financial mismanagement practices, endangering the
safety of children and students, or sexual harassment and abuse.
For example, beginning in November, 1994, the Braille Monitor
staff reported newspaper articles from the Arkansas Democrat-
Gazette reporting on a series of financial irregularities and
culminating in charges of sexual harassment of present employees
and former blind female students. The superintendent, Mr. Leonard
Ogburn, was suspended June 24, 1994, and resigned on September 23
of the same year. Formal charges were filed, and when his case
came to trial, "Ogburn, former superintendent at the school,
pleaded no contest Wednesday to harassing a female employee by
saying he wanted to spank her. Little Rock Municipal Judge Lee
Munson placed Ogburn on probation for one year and fined him $250
court cost" (Pierce, 1994a, p. 128).

     The National Accreditation Council's publication, The
Standard-Bearer, in its annual report, 1994, lists the Arkansas
School for the Blind as one of four schools continuously
accredited for twenty-five years. Mr. Ogburn became
superintendent of the Arkansas School in 1985 and was a member of
the NAC Commission on Accreditation. Following his resignation
from the Arkansas School, he was no longer eligible to be a
member of the NAC National Commission on Accreditation (Westman,
1995).

     The Braille Monitor has reviewed a long history of similar
publicly documented abuse or mismanagement cases, all associated
with NAC-accredited agencies. To its consumer critics NAC has
frequently placed its stamp of approval on some of the more
regressive and badly managed agencies in this area of education
and rehabilitation. "Three quarters of the residential schools
for the blind in this country have chosen to have nothing to do
with NAC. Of the eighteen that do find it handy to wave the NAC
flag, five (Alabama, Arkansas, Florida, Illinois, and Maryland),
which is almost a third, have found their way into the front
pages of the newspapers because of some sort of scandal during
the last five years" (Pierce, 1995b, p. 294).
                           **********
                         Why NAC Failed
                           **********

     Why has the National Accreditation Council for Agencies
Serving the Blind and Visually Handicapped not been successful in
accrediting agencies? It began with more than two years of
preparation. At that time it envisioned accrediting more than
five hundred agencies. The initial effort was supported by the
prestigious American Foundation for the Blind, originally created
to advance the interests of professionals working in the field of
blindness. The project also had financial support from the U.S.
government and the leadership of many prominent individuals in
this field.

     First and possibly most important, the originating process,
COMSTAC, and the later NAC organization did not significantly
involve the organized blind. By 1965 the National Federation of
the Blind was a strong and influential organization. Its
membership and leaders were committed to full participation in
decisions that affected them. They also opposed NAC because, from
their analysis and investigations, they concluded that it
accredits some of the most regressive agencies.

     Second, the profession is comprised of diverse occupations
providing educational and rehabilitation services. It represents
groups with different historic origins and consequently different
social networks and interests, including principals of schools
for the blind, staff workers in private agencies, directors in
state agencies, and directors of sheltered workshops. Differences
between these groups are sometimes greater than concerns that
unite them. It may not have been in their interest to have the
field controlled or regulated by a relatively small group who
created and have continued to support NAC. Many agencies wish to
avoid the negative publicity, for fund-raising if nothing else,
of the continuing consumer opposition to NAC.

     Third, the large, state-funded rehabilitation programs never
became significantly involved with NAC accreditation. Such
agencies are more vulnerable to consumer opposition. Consumer
groups have lobbied their state and national political
representatives to "stop wasting money on NAC." Also some
requirements associated with licensing are sometimes seen as
discriminatory in publicly supported agencies. For example, one
state director of rehabilitation services for the blind told me,
"We consider applicants for positions on the basis of ability,
training, and education, not on their visual acuity" (Vogel,
1992). This is contrary to the requirements of AER, the primary
supporter of NAC, that orientation and mobility instructors be
sighted.

     More recently vision tests have been replaced by functional
requirements, which still exclude blind workers. The applicant
would need to demonstrate his or her ability to perceive what a
sighted instructor would consider a potentially dangerous
situation. However, this functional approach is now being debated
within the profession. The policy is currently under review by
the Certification and Review Committee of AER (Weessies, 1995).
The Americans with Disabilities Act requires reasonable
accommodations; for example, a blind mobility instructor might
well argue that he or she could use an assistant when providing
mobility training in a potentially dangerous area.

     Consumers have less ability to influence smaller private
agencies such as the Lighthouses. Consumers have less leverage in
these agencies because the boards of directors are primarily
comprised of wealthy or prominent citizens who frequently know
little about the issues involved. Management can usually rely on
board support to disregard consumer complaints.
                           **********
                        Future Prospects
                           **********

     If the development of a broadly supported and effective
accreditation program for agencies serving the blind and visually
impaired depends on NAC, the prospects appear bleak. Richard L.
Welsh, President of NAC, in the 1994 Annual Report of NAC makes
the following comments, "This heart is still beating strong even
though there is less blood flowing through the arteries and
veins." He goes on to comment that this national accrediting
organization belongs to its volunteers. "As long as enough
volunteers and agencies see a value in the process, it will
continue to exist and to be of service to schools, agencies, and
programs that serve the people with visual impairments." Based on
the evidence of decline we have presented, it is unlikely that
this relatively small, beleaguered group will be the vanguard of
a new accreditation program that could attract broad support in
this specialized area of rehabilitation and education.

     Agencies which require accreditation or find it otherwise
useful may seek accreditation outside the blindness field. For
example, the Cleveland Society for the Blind, after dropping its
relationship with NAC, sought and obtained accreditation from the
Commission on Accreditation of Rehabilitation Facilities (CARF).
Many agencies which serve multiple client groups including blind
people are already accredited by CARF. Most professionals working
in the field of blindness strongly support the need for
specialized services for their clients and would probably prefer
an accreditation process focusing on their specialized agencies.

     Throughout education, for diverse reasons, politicians and
educators are demanding accountability. This concern is
increasingly focused on the outcome or results of education
programs (Loganecker, 1994). Applying these concerns to the
rehabilitation of blind individuals, the primary focus will not
be on credentials, physical facilities, or rehabilitation
procedures. It will focus on the outcome of rehabilitation
processes. Are graduates able to live more independently and find
competitive employment? Can agencies be compared using these
criteria? Measurement and comparison of outcomes in this area are
not easy, but it is the direction that CARF and other accrediting
organizations are moving. Client participation and client
satisfaction will be necessary ingredients.

     It is possible that the long-term supporters of NAC may
conclude that their organization is not adequately serving their
agencies and their profession. New leadership may emerge and
begin the process with full consumer participation from the
beginning. That might result in a broadly supported accreditation
organization that would focus on the results of rehabilitation
efforts.

     Although this has been an historical analysis of the decline
of NAC, the issues raised appear in most areas of rehabilitation
services. With one exception almost all of the national
accrediting organizations have not been successful in attracting
voluntary cooperation from large numbers of agencies.
"Rehabilitation agencies face many challenges as they seek to
improve their services in the coming decades. Increased demand
for accountability and effectiveness, combined with dedication to
empower clients, present major program goals" (Mason, 1990;
Emener, 1991). In this context rehabilitation counselors are
asking for more autonomy in decision-making to serve clients
better (Jackson, 1995). Most states continue to prefer national
accreditation, ensuring broader perspective and a basis for
making comparisons with programs from similar cultural regions
and economic conditions. The most comprehensive and most
successful in accrediting programs is CARF. In 1995 the number of
CARF-accredited programs surpassed 11,000 for the first time
(Galvin, 1995).

     The Commission on Accreditation of Rehabilitation Facilities
recently expanded its acronym to reflect philosophic changes in
the organization's approach to accreditation. It is now
CARF...Rehabilitation Accreditation Commission. It has avoided
many of the problems NAC encountered by incorporating
organizational and programmatic changes as the organization
evolved. Its large governing board, forty-two members, has
significant representation from consumer and advocacy groups.
Evaluation includes effectiveness, efficiency, and client
satisfaction. An agency is not told what its goals should be, but
the agency is expected to attempt to measure or assess the
outcomes of its program efforts. The agencies are asked to
document the extent to which they have incorporated suggestions
from previous evaluations or have developed on going arrangements
for self-evaluation.

     Accreditation does not disregard structure and organization,
but the focus is on the outcome or results of the rehabilitation
process. Programs, not agencies, are accredited. The organization
provides a comprehensive approach with an ability to accredit all
aspects of the rehabilitation process. Its success in accrediting
agencies permits a budget sufficient to provide educational
materials, conferences and backup support for agencies.
Comprehensiveness, consumer involvement, a focus on programs, and
a national perspective are important elements in the success of
this particular model.
                           **********
References

     Abbott, Andrew. (1988). The Systems of Professions: An Essay
on the Division of Labor. Chicago, Illinois: University of
Chicago Press.

     Emener, W. G. (1991). Empowerment in Rehabilitation: An
Empowerment Philosophy for Rehabilitation in the 20th Century.
Journal of Rehabilitation, 57 (4). pp. 7-12.

     Galvin, Don. (1995). President, Commission on Accreditation
of Rehabilitation Facilities, Tucson, Arizona. Telephone
conversation, December 15.

     Gans, Herber, Jr., Editor. (1968). The Equality Revolution,
More Equality, New York, New York: Vintage Books Edition, pp. 7-
35.

     Gomez, Pauline. (1964). Struggle Against Odds. The Blind
American. 4 (1), 5.

     Grove, Annette. (1995). Metropolitan Employment and
Rehabilitation Services, St. Louis, Missouri. Telephone
conversation, December 1.

     Jackson, J. L. (1995). Reengineering the Rehabilitation
Process. Journal of Rehabilitation, 61 (2) p. 13.

     Jernigan, Kenneth. (1991). NAC: What Price Accreditation.
Braille Monitor, January, pp. 17-24.

     Koestler, Frances. (1976). The Unseen Minority--A Social
History of Blindness in America, New York, New York: David McKay.

     Larson, Magali Sarfatti (1977). The Rise of Professionalism:
A Sociological Analysis. Berkley: University of California Press.

     Loganecker, David A. (1994). The New Federal Focus on
Accreditation. Academe, Vol. 80, p. 4.

     Mason, C. Y. (1990). Consumer Choice and Satisfaction.
Washington, D.C. Technical Association Rehabilitation Facilities.

     Matson, Floyd W. (1963). California Sheltered Shop Ousts
Blind Workers. The Blind American, May 3 (5), pp. 3-4.
NAC Annual Report. (1968).

     Nudler, Sylvia (1995). Staff Member, The Accreditation
Council on Services for People with Disabilities. Telephone
conversation, September 25.

     Pierce, Barbara (1994a). More Developments at the Arkansas
School for the Blind. Braille Monitor, March.

     Pierce, Barbara (1995b). Sixty-Nine Members and Falling: The
NAC Countdown Continues. Braille Monitor, May, pp. 294-295.

     Rabby, Rami (1984). NAC in Transition--Bleecker's Last Days
Report from Daytona Beach. Braille Monitor, February, pp. 67-74.

     Rothman, R. A. (1987). Working: Sociological Perspectives.
Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey: Prentice-Hall.

     Solum, Greg (1995). Director, Community Rehabilitation
Services, Missouri, Office of Vocational Rehabilitation.
Telephone conversation, September 25.

     Symanski, Edna & Linkowski, D.C. (1995). Rehabilitation
Counseling Accreditation: Validity and Reliability. Journal of
Rehabilitation, Vol. 61. No. 1.

     tenBroek, Jacobus. (1965). Agency Conference on Standards
Set. Braille Monitor, July, p. 1-8.

     tenBroek, Jacobus. (1966). "NFB--COMSTAC Differences Aired."
Braille Monitor, July, p. 26.

     tenBroek, Jacobus and Floyd W. Matson. (1966a). "COMSTAC's
Standards for Vocational Services." Braille Monitor,
January, pp. 8-12.

     tenBroek, Jacobus and Floyd W. Matson. (1966b). "COMSTAC The
Clients' Big Brother," Braille Monitor, March, pp. 45-51.

     Vaughan, C. Edwin. (1993). The Struggle of Blind People for
Self-Determination: The Dependency--Rehabilitation Conflict:
Empowerment in the Blindness Community. Springfield, Illinois:
Charles G. Thomas.

     Vogel, David. (1992). Missouri Director of Rehabilitation
Services. Telephone conversation, September 22.

     Weessies, Marvin (1995). Faculty, Department of Blind
Rehabilitation, Western Michigan University, Kalamazoo, Michigan.
Telephone conversation, September 29.

     Welsh, Richard L. (1994). "Ownership: Whose Accreditation
Council Is It Anyway?" The Standard-Bearer Annual Report.
No. 56.

     Westman, Ruth (1995). Telephone conversation, July 1.
                           **********
                           **********
[PHOTO/CAPTION: Bruce A. Gardner]
               Clever Con or Clear Communication?
                       by Bruce A. Gardner
                           **********

     From the Editor: Bruce Gardner is a member of the National
Federation of the Blind Board of Directors and President of the
NFB of Arizona. He is also a thoughtful and perceptive blind man
with much to teach others about coming to terms with blindness.
This is what he says:
                           **********

     Should we who are blind be concerned with our posture,
gestures, and facial expressions? If we do pay attention to these
things, aren't we just trying to hide our blindness by pretending
that we can see? I remember pondering these questions as a blind
student in college.

     My major was interpersonal communications, which included a
wide variety of topics from debate and public speaking to family
counseling and organizational communications. I found it
interesting and a great preparation for life and the practice of
law. As part of the major I took several nonverbal communication
classes in which we discussed how things other than spoken words
(such as the voice and body language) affect the message that is
conveyed. We studied the effects of inflection, pitch, tone,
cadence, volume, and intensity of the voice, as well as gestures,
posture, and facial expressions. We noted that variations in the
voice can alter or even reverse the meaning of words. For
example, "thanks a lot" can express genuine appreciation;
however, if said with icy sarcasm, the message might actually be
one of contempt.

     Likewise, in our sighted society body language, along with
the voice, affects the meaning of the spoken word. A friend may
say she is happy and even do so in a cheerful tone of voice, but
the frown on her face and the droop in her shoulders may suggest
otherwise. I learned that, although as a blind person I am
sometimes unaware of the messages conveyed by body language, most
sighted people (usually subconsciously) pay attention and give
credence to the messages conveyed through gestures, posture, and
facial expressions. For example, if I am gazing into space or
looking down at my shoes when talking to someone, he may get the
impression that I am not interested in him or what he has to say.
I learned that it is, therefore, important to understand basic
body language and use it properly when we are communicating in
order to convey the intended message rather than mixed or
incorrect messages.

     Even so, communication is an art, not an exact science, and
our best intentions can sometimes fall short. I vividly recall a
situation in law school in which that happened to me. I was
selected to be on the moot court team representing the Brigham
Young University Law School in intercollegiate competition.

     Similar to an undergraduate debate team, moot court
competition consists of drafting a court of appeals brief and
then arguing the case before a panel of judges. In
intercollegiate competition a hypothetical legal issue and fact
scenario are selected for the year. The moot court teams,
consisting of three members each, are assigned to write a brief
for the United States Supreme Court, representing either the
appellant or appellee in the hypothetical case. A great deal of
legal research and analysis is done by the team members in
selecting just the right cases to cite and legal arguments to
make in each brief. The briefs are then carefully analyzed,
critiqued, and scored.

     Two members of each team then give oral arguments before a
panel of judges as if they were arguing the case before the
Supreme Court. Although each team prepares its brief for either
the appellant or appellee, depending on the assignment, at oral
argument the team must be prepared to argue the case for either
side at the flip of a coin. The issues are divided in half, with
one of the team members prepared to present oral argument for the
appellant on one half of the issues, and another team member
prepared to present oral arguments on the other side for the
appellee on those same issues. The third member of the team is
the swing member who must be ready to present the other half of
the issues for either the appellant or the appellee. This meant
that the swing member gave oral arguments each time the team
competed, sometimes on one side of the case and sometimes on the
other. Just before the time to present oral arguments, with a
flip of the coin we would find out which side of the case we
would be presenting. Because I had won the Dean's Cup that year
for best oralist at the Brigham Young University Law School, I
served as swing member of my team.

     In regional moot court competition each law school in the
region sends its two teams to the day-long, multi-round
competition. Three practicing attorneys who lived and worked in
the city in which the host law school was located comprised each
panel of judges. In the semi-final round of regional competition,
my team (which had gone undefeated to that point) faced the host
law school's remaining team. Each presenter was interrupted
numerous times by the judges, asking pointed and difficult
questions, and all the oralists deftly fielded the questions and
made compelling presentations. After the semi-final round was
finished, the two teams sat quietly in the courtroom, awaiting
the judges' verdict which team had won. We all knew that each of
the oralists on both teams had done extremely well and that the
scoring would be close. We also knew that, if the scoring of the
oral arguments was tied, my team would be declared the winner
because our written brief had taken first place in the region.

     When the panel of judges returned, they each gave a critique
of our arguments. Each judge identified strengths and weaknesses
of the presentations. After the first two critiques it was
apparent that the scoring was tied. We all wondered what the
third judge would say, particularly because he had not opened his
mouth or asked a single question during the entire semi-final
round. The third judge made rather routine comments about each
presentation, but then, to my surprise and great dismay, he had
an additional, unusual and negative criticism for me. He said
that, although my presentation was excellent and my arguments
compelling, I had not looked him in the eye and convinced him
that I was right. He further said that the fact that he had not
asked a single question should not have mattered and that I
should have looked him in the eye and talked directly to him just
as much as I did the other two judges. He then docked my team,
which meant that the team from the host law school won by one
point.

     My teammates and I came away from that experience convinced
of two things. First, the judge had no clue that I was blind and
was, therefore, not intentionally discriminating against me.
After all, he had had no opportunity to see my cane because we
simply stood when the judges entered the courtroom and stood
again when they left, and I had not needed or used my cane when I
stepped from the table where I was sitting to the podium to give
my presentation. Second, he (probably subconsciously) had decided
that the home town team should win, and he caused that to happen
in the only way he could think of. We recognized that this second
notion was probably just sour grapes, but it made losing more
palatable.

     The ironic thing was that, harkening back to my non-verbal
communication classes, I had made a conscious effort to look all
three judges in the eye; but, because the third judge never said
a word, I was not sure exactly where he was sitting or where to
look. I was pretty sure he was to the right of the other two
judges who frequently interrupted my presentation to ask me
questions, so I looked in that general area occasionally during
my oral argument, but obviously to no avail. Oh well, as I said,
communication is an art, not an exact science. You win some and
you lose some. 

     This incident reminds me of a conversation I had in one of
my nonverbal communication classes taken several years earlier in
undergraduate school. One day we were discussing various studies
that addressed eye contact: how far apart people are when their
eyes meet as they approach each other; how long it is customary
to look a friend, stranger, subordinate, or superior in the eye
before glancing away; how often during a conversation direct eye
contact is repeated; and the various messages that are conveyed
by these actions. One of the students said that he had noticed
that the blind guy in the class (me) looked people in the eye
when he talked to them, and he wondered why since he knew I could
not see them. I responded by turning my face to the wall and
saying, "Because it would look strange if I talked to you like
this." He then said, "Yeah, but you look people right in the eye.
How do you know where to look?" I teasingly responded, "I don't
know about you, but most people's eyes are a bit above their
mouth; therefore, I use your voice to determine where to look."
The whole class laughed.

     Later, however, I did some serious reflecting on his
question. Why did I face people when talking to them, and why did
I pay attention to my gestures and facial expressions? Was it
because I was still trying to hide my blindness by pretending
that I could see and was normal as I had done for so many years
before I learned the truth about blindness from the National
Federation of the Blind?

     It had been only a couple of years earlier that I had
learned of the NFB and begun accepting and dealing with my
blindness. Before that time I had been ashamed of my blindness
because I thought blind people were fumbling, bumbling Mr. Magoos
or, worse, virtually helpless dependents who sold pencils on the
street corner. I did not want to be thought of like that, so I
tried to hide my blindness. And, of course, I did not use a cane.

     I did crazy things to appear normal. I came to think of
these actions as playing "blind man's buff." I would do
ridiculous things, such as pretend to be reading a magazine in
the barber shop or a doctor's office and turn the pages after the
appropriate passage of time; loiter in lobbies outside what I
hoped were the rest rooms (sometimes in increasing discomfort) in
order to identify a man and then observe which door he went
through so I could follow him into the correct rest room; and
pretend to be distracted or unfriendly rather than let people
know I did not see or recognize them.

     But now that I had learned the truth about blindness--that
it is respectable to be blind--and was using a rigid, long white
cane like a neon sign that said "Look at me; I am blind," hiding
my blindness by pretending to see was impossible.

     Before I heard of the NFB my actions were motivated by my
intent to con or deceive others into thinking I could see. But
after a little introspection I realized that, thanks to the NFB,
my motives had changed, and I was now simply trying to be a
better communicator. I realized that there is a profound
difference between trying to hide the fact that you are blind by
pretending to see, and understanding and using body language as
an important part of communication.
                           **********
                           **********
[PHOTO DESCRIPTION: This is a close-up shot of the faces of a
mother and baby. CAPTION: Elizabeth and Miriam Anderson]
PHOTO/CAPTION: Elizabeth and Miriam Anderson play on the floor of
the baby's nursery.]
        Blind Woman Couldn't See Living Without Her Baby
                        by Ellen Thompson
                           **********

     From the Editor: What should a Federationist do when a
newspaper undertakes to write a story about her but leaves out
important information? That's what happened to Elizabeth Anderson
of St. Paul, Minnesota. The reporter spent a good deal of time
with Elizabeth and her daughter but ignored the question of how
she had come to deal positively and matter-of-factly with her
blindness. The following story is reprinted with permission from
the August 24, 1997, edition of the St. Paul Pioneer Press.
                           **********

     This story is for a seven-month-old girl named Miriam. It is
for her to read when she is grown up and curious to learn more
about her first months of life with her mother Elizabeth
Anderson, who is blind and has been from birth.

     Miriam, your day begins in a two-room, low-income apartment
on Wabasha Street in St. Paul that your mother has furnished
cozily with your crib, picture books, and playthings. Your mom
wakes up to the sound of your strong, plump, creamy-white legs
pumping and kicking against a toy that hangs on the inside of
your crib.

     Before she rises from the double bed in the next room, she
lifts up the hinged crystal that covers the clock face of her
watch and runs the fingers of her right hand over it in one deft
stroke. It's 6:00 a.m. Snap, she closes the crystal, rises
eagerly. Without hesitation, she strides toward the thumping,
gurgling sounds that are you.

     On the way to your room she trips over a stuffed bear you
left on the floor when you were rolling around last night.
Otherwise, though the apartment appears cluttered--tossed piles
of clean laundry along a wall, papers strewn on a table--it is
organized in her memory, and she is certain about the locations
of hundreds of objects.

     "Well, hello little Peanut. Precious. How are you? How are
you?" she says in a sweet, sing-song voice as she stoops over the
crib and scoops you out. You weigh twenty pounds and are twenty-
seven inches long. You are her treasure.

     She places you on a mat on the floor and reaches for a
package of diapers under a table. Takes the messy diaper off.
Wipes you clean. Puts a clean diaper on. Reaches into a pile of
clothes and pulls out two pieces of clothing. Perhaps it is the
lace-trimmed, pale yellow knit dress with the pink rosebuds and
the little bloomers that match. When you are out on the street in
your stroller, strangers marvel at how perfectly you are dressed.
Each item of clothing feels distinct to your mother's sensitive
touch.

     Your mom learned colors by associating them with particular
objects. She learned shades of color by picturing them as hot or
cold, warm or cool. Someone told her your hair is getting a
brighter red, but she is not sure exactly what that means. Your
eyes are blue, lighter than your mother's. "I think hers...are
they like the sky?" your mother asks.

     "I know I love you." There is no one else in your mother's
life right now. At twenty-four, she is a single mother and
estranged from her family. Her life revolves around you.

     She left home during her senior year of high school, ran
away to a friend's house, and stayed there until she graduated.
She loved school--especially her English classes--but her family
didn't think she could go to college. She figured she never would
if she didn't break away.

     She became pregnant with you, Miriam, while enrolled at the
University of Minnesota. Your father, who is also blind, did not
want to acknowledge you. Others urged your mother to put you up
for adoption. "You'll be able to go on with your life," they
said. But once you began poking and kicking with tiny hands and
feet at your mother's ribs, your mother thought, "How can I go on
with life and not wonder if what is going on with my child is
good?"

     It was bitterly cold January 13, 1997, the day you were
born. But you entered the world fast, aerodynamically, your
mother thought. Out to the end of the berthing bed, kersplash.
Everyone in the room was crying, especially your mother. She
couldn't wait to hold you.

     "I know I love you, Miriam," she thought. "And there are no
other guarantees. I could give you up to a couple with a nice
income. The couple could divorce. They could lose their jobs. I
may not be able to buy you fancy things, but I do know I love
you."

     She joined a church because of you. She had always had
faith, a belief in God, but suddenly it seemed important to have
clear values and to have you grow up seeing your mother living
the way she should.

     She takes you now to church each Sunday. In your small
apartment she plays cassette tapes of children's songs and hymns.

     She reads to you often, too. Someone somewhere told her
about the Red Balloon bookstore on Grand Avenue. She made her way
there and bought you five books, including the classic, Good
Night Moon. She mailed the books to an organization that
translated them into Braille on clear, adhesive-backed plastic
cards and mounted the cards onto the pages. She asked for Braille
descriptions of all the pictures as well.

     Your mother's left hand quickly pushes her right hand into
place, and the fingers of her right hand quickly decipher all the
little raised dots. She laughs with delight as she reads aloud to
you.

     "Is she looking?" your mother asks every once in a while.
"Does she like it? What is she doing?"

     Of course she means you. And you, Miriam, are looking right
at the page of colors and shapes as she holds them up.

     If you grow sleepy as she reads, your mother sings. She
doesn't see your eyelids drop, but she feels your body grow still
and surrender with a little shudder. Your legs and arms grow
limp.

     You and your mother don't go out often. Mostly on errands to
nearby city blocks. Your first visit to the Children's Museum was
a big trip. That is beyond Walgreen's, where Mom picks up
diapers, over a bricked area, past a place where an open door
tosses out air-conditioned air smelling of coffee, past a spot
heavily scented with popcorn and sugar.

     "Here we go," your mother says brightly as you set out. She
pulls your stroller with her left hand, arm crooked back at a
right angle, out through the apartment. The air in the hallway is
stale and smells of grease. The carpet is grimy. Voices, some
arguing, can often be heard behind closed doors.

     Down the elevator. Your mom stops to fish a brimmed bonnet
from a bag and ties it on your head. Her left arm crooks back
again as she grabs to pull your stroller along, and her right arm
wags her white cane. Back and forth it probes. Brick, carpet,
metal bottom of a glass door. Pull the door. Push the next door.
Out to the sidewalk.

     Kick-kick. Kick-kick. On your back, in the stroller, looking
up at the world, people's faces, windows, sky, awnings, you're
excited.

     Your mom charges along, waving the cane before her. People
on the sidewalk scatter. A little boy yelps when she mistakenly
bumps him. Near each corner she runs into a collection of
newspaper boxes and a trash box. In front of some stores her cane
catches and arches on flower boxes.

     "I didn't realize it was this close," she says at the museum
entrance, which is just blocks from your apartment.

     "Are you so happy? Are you so happy?" she sing-songs to you.

     Your mother explores the wall of a child-sized castle, brick
by brick, tries on a costume, fingers weavings made by children,
and shakes sheet metal to create a scary sound like thunder. You
roll around in the "pond life" infant play area, where you chew
on a fake lily pad and play with a stuffed frog and turtle.

     On the way home you stop at Applebaum's grocery store, where
an older man named Eddie helps your mom find milk, cereal, and a
dozen perfect eggs.

     "I can make her laugh, I'll make her laugh," Eddie says,
leaning his face in at you.

     Folks keep an eye out for you and your mother. Besides
Eddie, there's Dick, who operates a little convenience store
close to where you live. Dick baby-sits you once in a while when
it's cold or raining. You sit with him behind the counter, with
the popcorn machine and cigarette cartons, and all sorts of
characters who come into his store fuss over you.

     Some people worry about you and your mother. When the din of
jackhammers in the street confused your mother and she wandered
into the middle of Wabasha Street with you one day, all traffic
stopped. And your mother got somewhat angry when someone tried to
help.

     She has little patience with people who threaten her hard-
won independence. And she hates those "wishy-washy stories that
make someone blind out to be this amazing person just because
they are able to do things."

     When she became your mother, someone told her, "You are
making a big mistake. You are going to have a harder time than
most."

     "Really," your mother said determinedly to herself. "Want to
bet?"
                           **********

     The Pioneer Press article was positive, but Elizabeth
believed that very important information had been left out. So
she wrote a letter to the editor to fill in the missing pieces.
The Pioneer Press published the letter a few days later. Here it
is:
                           **********
                                                September 5, 1997
                           **********
Dear Editor:

     I want to thank the Pioneer Press for printing my story
(Sunday, August 24). I hope my daughter will treasure it as much
as I treasure her.

     Ellen Thompson wrote a beautiful message that I want Miriam
to understand: Because I love her, I will give her the best
upbringing I know how to, and my blindness will not interfere
with my ability to do that.

     There is, however, more to my story that I want Miriam and
your readers to know. It is not by accident or luck that I keep
my blindness in a positive perspective. Actually it may have
involved a bit of luck. When I left home, I knew that I must
create a better future for myself, but I did not know how to go
about it. I was fortunate enough to meet members of the National
Federation of the Blind who helped me realize how much I had to
learn about being blind. I was a person with high aspirations but
little self-confidence. I was told about a program in Minnesota
that was operated by blind people and could teach me what I
needed to know. It was called BLIND, Inc. (Blindness: Learning In
New Dimensions), and, by moving to Minnesota, I was able to avail
myself of this training. I learned to believe in myself.

     My friends in the Federation provide constant encouragement.
In return I hope that I can do the same for other blind people. A
mother has many hopes and dreams for her child. There are also
some certainties. Miriam will always be loved; she will know the
value of caring and sharing with others; and she will know that
it is respectable to be blind.
                           **********
                                                       Sincerely,
                                               Elizabeth Anderson
                           **********
                           **********
                 Windows 95: Removing the Screen
                   by Peter M. Scialli, Ph.D.
                           **********

     From the Editor: I have vivid recollections of walking
around the 1986 National Convention with a sinking feeling at the
pit of my stomach. That year I must have born some spiritual
resemblance to Coleridge's Ancient Mariner as I clutched at every
computer user of my acquaintance to demand pointers for getting
started with that fearsome machine. When I returned to work in
mid-July, I was to begin using an AT&T personal computer hooked
up to the Alumni Affairs mainframe computer at Oberlin College.
With a talking box and this combination of computers I was to
become the first professional in the Alumni Office to work
extensively on the new technology. Instinctively I knew that my
working life would never be the same; I just hoped I would
survive the experience.

     I count myself incredibly lucky that during the following
year our office employed a temporary secretary to substitute for
one who was in Germany on sabbatical with her husband. Bob was a
new Oberlin graduate who was staying in town for a year while his
fiancee finished her degree. Though he had been an English major,
he was extremely gifted in and curious about computers. He found
my speech-recognition software and hardware interesting and a
challenge to his orderly mind. He liked the fact that I could
either work on my PC or log onto the mainframe. When I managed to
crash my system, he didn't panic; he walked me through correcting
the problem. When my system stopped speaking, he was patience
itself in coming to read the screen; and, using questions rather
than instructions, he taught me how to get myself out of my
messes and prevent them in the future.

     Gradually I learned to use the various word-processing
programs available to me, the other mainframe programs we used to
manage the alumni database, and enough about the Disk Operating
System (DOS) to move around and do what I needed to. I don't know
what I would have done without Bob. No one else in the college--
and that included the entire Computer Center staff--knew a thing
about screen-reading software. The equipment and software more
than a decade ago were rudimentary compared to today's powerful
systems, but there were times when I thought my head would
explode with the new concepts and skills I was forced to master
and use.

     Years of marching along on the shifting sands of evolving
computer technology have taught me that we look back to whatever
is old and familiar as easy and relatively simple. Today, as we
contemplate the prospect of coping with Windows 95, 97, 98, and
who knows what further demanding office products, we are tempted
to look back at DOS as the good old days when computers were
simple. Those early programs were undoubtedly simpler, but they
were not simple to us. We mastered them and came to love their
clarity as revealed to us by the speech software developed to
deal with them. But they were always a challenge, one that, with
the help of gifted programmers in the access-technology field, we
met successfully.

     Dr. Peter Scialli is by training a clinical psychologist who
became interested in computers in connection with his research
and work as a psychologist. He has now established Shrink Wrap
Computer Products, a company that assembles computer systems and
develops tutorials helping blind people use commercially
available programs. Dr. Scialli has a refreshingly optimistic
outlook about the ability of blind people to use today's computer
software. However, his views may be a little too rosy in some
respects.

     Curtis Chong, President of the NFB in Computer Science,
tells me that Lotus Notes for Windows still requires the help of
a reader if a blind person wants to use the program. I can
personally testify to the frustrations of trying to get a screen
reader for Windows to provide information about layout in
preparing a document in Word. Things that DOS-based screen-
readers volunteered as a matter of course are deeply held secrets
withheld from blind users in Windows 95.

     Nonetheless, Dr. Scialli's attitude and approach to today's
software are positive and encouraging. But remember that he is a
bright and experienced user of speech- and Braille-access
software, and he understands the Windows products well enough to
write tutorials for our use. His knowledge is hard won, and the
rest of us will stumble along behind him, often cursing the
technology that is changing our lives even while we bless him and
his kind for breaking trail for us. Here is what Dr. Scialli has
to say:
                           **********

     For the past few years the consensus among people who are
blind has been that the Graphical User Interface (GUI) was
designed for the exclusive benefit of the sighted, its principal
advantage being a pleasing and easy to navigate visual
presentation of complex material. While visual appeal is
certainly an important part of the advances in PC technology, it
does not begin to cover the many other features that technology
has provided to the desktop computer user.

     Indeed among many blind computer users in the late 1990's,
there is a feeling of panic and despair about the continuing
usefulness of the technology, which has heretofore helped greatly
to break down barriers to productivity and equality in school and
the workplace. Unfortunately these feelings have been echoed and
amplified by rehabilitation instructors, teachers, employers, and
others whom blind people sometimes rely upon for guidance in
making school or workplace adaptations. The purpose of this
presentation is to clarify the nature of the graphical user
interface and to discuss the often disregarded advantages of
modern PC operating systems for productive work by people who are
blind.

     The Graphical User Interface found on modern computer
operating systems is popular because, in more ways than in the
past, what individuals see on their computer screens mimics what
they see in the world around them. The symbols that make up the
world at large are now available right on the PC desktop system.
This, paradoxically, is good news for blind computer users. Blind
people have been dealing effectively with the world at large for
centuries. They have been doing so with various forms of
alternative access. Every blind person who has achieved
excellence alongside sighted peers has used an alternative access
technique. As computer operating systems have advanced, so have
technological solutions to the access issues thus produced.

     The problems that remain are no more or less catastrophic
then those which remain for blind people in general. Blind people
still can't see colors on a computer screen, just as they can't
see them anyplace else. Blind people need a description of a
pictorial representation of an object on computer monitors, just
as they do anyplace else, and so on. Blindness does not offer any
more special disadvantages when dealing with computers than it
does when dealing with taking a trip to the local store to buy a
carton of milk. Both situations require familiarity with the
environment and methods for dealing with graphical
representations of important information, methods of following
rules, and methods of demonstrating success.

     The key in these or other routine tasks is that the blind
individual receive proper training and practice in an effective
set of alternative techniques. For example, a blind pedestrian
must understand the nature of traffic patterns and the
consequences of arguing with a truck. Similarly, a blind computer
user should possess a proper understanding of what the computer
is telling him or her and the consequences of interacting in
various ways with the machine.

     One may ask why a blind person must learn new alternative
computer skills when the text-based operating systems of the past
have served well with relatively little special training. While
it is true that text-based operating systems such as Microsoft's
Disk Operating System (DOS) provided a relatively simple
interface for everyone, it is also true that in addition to
falling into wide disuse generally, text-based systems have an
extremely limited capacity to take advantage of advancing
hardware technology. Many blind people think erroneously that
their productivity will remain high as long as they can stay with
the familiar computing environment.

     Depending on the level of productivity required for a given
academic or career path, those who adhere firmly to the use of
text-based operating systems from the past are not necessarily at
a disadvantage. The text-based computers and computer
applications that support them are no less useful today than they
were ten or fifteen years ago. If a person needs only, for
example, to produce competent written material, a word processor
from 1986 will likely provide the appropriate level of service.
If, on the other hand, a blind person wants to produce a highly
formatted document with multiple columns, graphics, and a variety
of colors, the older text-editing application will not do the
job.

     What are the advantages of learning to work in a modern
operating environment? The obvious answer to this question is
that modern operating systems and the hardware that supports them
permit the use of techniques not previously available.
Multitasking, multimedia, and memory management are some examples
of modern computing techniques with special value to blind
computer users; these will be discussed later. Of greater
importance than the technical ability to use current computing
tools is the necessity for blind people to produce excellent work
in a competitive environment.

     One need not look far to find blind people performing jobs
adequately through the use of computers. An alarming number of
these people are working in competitive environments in which
they are not expected to excel. Employers often believe that the
Americans with Disabilities Act compels them to hire disabled
people who possess only a limited ability to produce the work
expected of them. Quite often blind people seeking employment
believe that, if the employer merely provides a talking computer
which uses a text-based operating system, an accommodation has
been made. It is all too easy to lose sight of the quality of the
work being done by one's fellow, non-accommodated employees.
Moreover, when a blind employee is using an accommodation to
achieve results that are only satisfactory, the employer is
likely to disregard the employee's advancement potential as non-
existent. Observing that the employee apparently requires the use
of antiquated and unsupported tools, the employer will never view
her or him as able to handle innovative projects and will see the
blind person as unpromotable.

     What then are the special features of GUI-based operating
systems that benefit blind people? Largely they are the same
features which benefit the sighted user, who ironically may
appreciate them less due to the diversion of an entertaining user
interface. For the blind, standardization plays an important role
in the increased utility of modern operating systems. In
particular there is a tendency for one Windows application to
look and act like another. While there are always exceptions, the
Microsoft guidelines encourage computer applications generally to
use similar controls. For example, almost every Windows 95
application installation uses the Microsoft Install Shield
Wizard, which guides the end-user through nearly identical steps
each time an application is installed. Almost every modern
application uses a standard implementation of pulldown menus and
dialogues, which enable any user to make some helpful assumptions
about how application controls are to be approached and how they
will act.

     Contrast this to many MS-DOS applications produced in the
early to mid 1990's. In an effort to lend an appealing Windows-
like user interface to a DOS application, programmers often used
creative methods of achieving a particular screen result. Screen-
access software intended for use by the visually impaired had no
premise for expecting or dealing with graphical elements
incorporated into an application idiosyncratically. Contrast this
with the standard element classes that are used in the modern
operating systems for which screen-access software has a basis
for reporting the screen to the end-user through speech or
Braille output. While a blind end-user may experience some
initial consternation about the layout of a GUI screen, the
labeling of graphics is a standard technique for making useful
information about the contents of the screen continuously
available.

     No less important than the standardization of the screen
output is the standardization of the computer's keyboard input.
Since it is unlikely that a blind computer end-user will use a
mouse, it is necessary to find some other way to communicate
commands to the machine. Microsoft Windows systems do just this.
Because the functions of many keyboard keys and key combinations
are standard, it is now easier than ever before for a blind end-
user to approach an unfamiliar or difficult application. For
example, the combination of the Alt key and the F4 key invariably
commands a Windows application to cancel the current task or
dialog. The combination of the Control key and the F10 key will
always open a Context Menu where one is available. Similarly the
F1 key will almost always enter an application's Help System for
context-sensitive information about a current task or dialog.

     Contrast these maneuvers with many of the more common
applications from Microsoft DOS. There were usually standards
within a family of products, such as those from WordPerfect
Corporation, but there was rarely agreement across software
brands about how an installation would be performed or how an
application would be controlled. Even those DOS programs which
had a Windows-like appearance often did not include keyboard
commands for control. They were designed for the mouse and the
illusion of Windows standardization.

     Blind computer users frequently believe that file management
can be best performed under MS-DOS or under DOS emulation by a
modern operating system. This may in fact be true, assuming that
the user knows the complete DOS path names leading to files of
interest and the exact spelling and possible embedded punctuation
of such file names. Compare this to Windows 95, in which folders,
files, and applications are organized into lists according to
function. A user need only pick from a list of options using one
of the keyboard commands described previously. This has the
potential to improve drastically the efficiency with which a
blind person uses a computer.

     What about multitasking? The conventional wisdom is that,
since a blind person can perform only one task at a time, an
operating system such as DOS which enforces this approach to
computing does not reduce efficiency. But multitasking applies to
the ability of the end-user not only to engage in more than one
application at a time but to execute technical computing goals.
For example, many are familiar with the need imposed by DOS-based
computers to configure and test separately the addressing of
peripheral hardware devices in each application. Thus each word
processor or text editor must be able to communicate with a
particular printer; each application must be independently aware
and able to work with a particular modem; and so on. Modern
operating systems remove this burden from everyone. Even special
peripheral devices such as scanners and Braille embossers can
usually be depended upon to work with all the applications
running under the same GUI. Surely this represents an increase in
efficiency for the blind worker.

     A fully sighted person, while possibly using visual cues to
remain aware of what is happening in the background of a computer
system's operating environment, is not likely to be performing
two distinct tasks simultaneously. The blind computer user
benefits equally in using the computer for many simultaneous
tasks. For example, the blind computer user is free to update
information continuously in a spreadsheet application with data
from the Internet. Similarly he or she can instruct the computer
to perform recognition on a group of scanned pages while using a
word processor to create new documents which may reference those
being worked on by other processes. This compares favorably with
the text-based method previously employed by blind computer
users, which involved performing one task at a time, saving the
work each time to a known specific file name, exiting an
application, starting a new application, retrieving the file
previously created, and so on.

     A sighted computer user can switch tasks quickly and easily
by using his mouse to point to a task of interest and clicking.
The click brings the task to the forefront of the computer screen
and to the forefront of the operator's attention. Happily a
parallel situation works well for a blind person using speech or
Braille-access. A task can be instantly called to the forefront
of one's attention by simply hitting a hot-key command, which
switches the access software's focus to another running task.
Users who have not specifically defined hot keys for getting from
one task to another can use the Windows standard Alt-plus-Tab-key
combination to view the running tasks serially. Unique sounds can
even be attached to various tasks to identify what is happening.
The blind user thus enjoys the full benefit of an extremely
powerful tool which never existed under older operating systems.

     What are the barriers which keep many blind people from
using modern operating systems? Sadly, the blind themselves have
fallen into an all too familiar pattern of assuming that they are
unable to learn and use that which seems to be tailor-made for
the sighted. With blind students and employees giving their
teachers and bosses the message that modern computers are
inaccessible, there is no shortage of opinion once again that
blind people may at best perform only adequate work. Since almost
everyone agrees that computers will become increasingly
widespread and increasingly complex, those who believe that blind
workers must use tools dating back ten years or more will not
encourage and educate the blind in the use of the tools of the
modern workplace. As a group blind people are seriously at risk
of facing bare subsistence in the new millennium. As all but the
most menial tasks begin to use computers, it is increasingly the
blind themselves who are telling the world that those are the
only tasks they are capable of performing.

     It is time that the blind insist upon receiving the training
required for functioning as leaders in the twenty-first century.
No special barriers keep the blind from using modern computers
and thus holding modern jobs.
                           **********
                           **********
[PHOTO/CAPTION: Tracy Carcione]
      From the Technology Department Director's Mail Basket
                           **********

     From the Editor: As a rather recent and still more or less
unwilling Windows 95 user, I do my share (probably more than my
share) of complaining about Windows 95, JAWS for Windows (JFW),
Internet Explorer, and the rest of the graphical complications to
the lives of blind computer users. Dr. Peter Scialli's article
(see the previous story) gives me hope that the advances being
made in speech access to the graphical user interface will
eventually trickle down to computer users like me. Then I read
correspondence like the following exchange between Tracy
Carcione, a computer user in New York, and Curtis Chong, Director
of the NFB's Technology Department and President of the National
Federation of the Blind in Computer Science, and I am reminded
that the remaining problems are very real and their impact on the
lives of many computer users is always frustrating and often
frightening. What follows is a pair of e-mail messages between
Mrs. Carcione and Mr. Chong:
                           **********
From: Tracy Carcione 
To: Curtis Chong
Subject: Windows
Date: Wednesday, February 18, 1998
                           **********
Hi Curtis:

     Hope you're settling in well in Baltimore. From the Monitor
it looks like you're keeping plenty busy. Hope you're enjoying
it.

     I want to harass you in your capacity as President of the
computer science division and to express my frustration with
Windows. As you may recall, I tried to switch to Windows in the
fall. It was a bust, and I'm still on OS/2, thank goodness. JFW
sort of worked with the mainframe and not at all with either of
the e-mail packages we tried.

     Other software I've tried has had even less success. So why
do we of the CS Division keep patting Henter-Joyce on the head as
though they were doing a good job? I was hopeful about the switch
from talking to Steve Jacobson and attending CS meetings where
people talked about how well things were working for them, but it
wasn't that way for me.

     Possibly it would work if we hired a consultant to come in
and customize JFW, but there are no guarantees. And why should
that be necessary? When my boss buys software, she installs it on
her machine, and off she goes. She might have to call Customer
Service once or get a little help from a co-worker to learn the
system, but she sure as heck doesn't have to hire a consultant to
make the stuff work or spend hours on the phone with Customer
Service as I do.

     Why do we as blind people put up with this nonsense? If
so-called access software doesn't work reasonably well with every
application a person has, then it's a problem for that person.
Say I have five applications I need in order to do my job:
mainframe connection, word processing, e-mail, online manuals,
and scheduling/project management software. Say the access
software works well with one or two, sort of works with one or
two more, and does not work at all with what's left. That
seriously affects my ability to do my job. Depending on which
software it works with, I may or may not be able to do my job at
all.  I've been thinking about looking for another job, but, when
I look in the paper, 90 percent of the jobs advertised involve
Windows in some way, and it's a good bet that even the strictly
mainframe jobs involve Windows to connect to the Network. I feel
very nervous going to a job interview in which, when the
prospective boss asks me how I'll be able to connect to their
system, I have to say that it depends what kind of connection
they use, and maybe I can't connect at all.

     For instance, there was an opening in another department for
which I was qualified, except that the only connection to the
system was through Netscape for security reasons, so I didn't
even bother to apply.

     I know you know this whole song well, but what can we do
about it? Are we harassing Netscape to make Netscape Navigator
accessible? Can we push Microsoft any harder? Can R&D invent
something like Speaqualizer for Windows? Can we push the access
software guys to do a better job? Right now I totally agree with
a friend of mine who says, "If you have a lot of time to do
something and you don't care if it looks pretty, then use
Windows; otherwise, stick to DOS." But there's less and less in
DOS, and Windows is still not very accessible, at least not with
what I need to run, which is what matters to me.

     Thanks for listening. Let me know if there's some action I
can take.
                           **********
                                                       Cordially,
                                                            Tracy
                           **********
[PHOTO/CAPTION: Curtis Chong]
From: Curtis Chong
To: Tracy Carcione
Subject: Windows
Date: February 22, 1998 
                           **********
Hi Tracy:

     I am glad that you took the time to write this note. It
raises some very interesting points, and it continues to remind
me that all is not sweetness and light in the computer
world--even though I would like to think that things have
improved.

     Where to begin? First, I would say that, if anyone gets the
notion that we in the computer science division in particular and
in the Federation in general endorse JAWS for Windows as the best
screen-access system for Windows 95, he or she should put that
notion aside immediately. As Richard Ring and I constantly say to
anyone who asks, there is no one best program for anything. The
key is to discover the problem which is being addressed and to
come up with the best possible solution for it. Sometimes the
solution involves JAWS for Windows. At other times it involves
another screen reader.

     Mr. Ring and I have often said that it would be nice (but
not really practical) for blind people to have access to all of
the screen readers and Web browsers available because certain
software works better in one situation while other software works
better in another. For example, while JAWS for Windows works
quite well with some e-mail clients (e.g., Eudora or Microsoft
Internet Mail), it does not work as well as Artic WinVision 97
when it comes to using Internet Explorer Version 3.02. Just
because JAWS for Windows appears to be the most popular program
today for Windows access, this does not imply that it is the best
program for everyone.

     Regarding mainframe connectivity, I know that Steve Jacobson
has made considerable progress in this area. While JAWS for
Windows (or any other Windows screen reader) may not provide the
same high-quality access that you and I both enjoyed with IBM's
mainframe communication software, OS/2, and Screen Reader/2, the
fact is that blind people can access the mainframe, using a 3270
terminal-emulation package, through Windows 95. The access may
not be everything we want and we may have to use a different
emulation package than our sighted colleagues, but there is a
time when we, as blind employees, must make unpleasant choices.
Would you want to be the last OS/2 user in your shop? If you
were, then who would support you? Unpleasant as it is to
contemplate, the day will come when you will have to switch to
Windows 95 (and possibly NT), and, though I personally deplore
the circumstances which make this necessary, I recognize the
necessity of being flexible in today's high-speed computer age.

     Regarding a Speaqualizer for the graphical user interface,
in point of fact the Federation's Research and Development
Committee is giving this some very serious consideration. Dr.
Michael Gosse and I have been looking into the work being done by
Dolphin Systems in the United Kingdom to see if the ideas they
have tried with Windows and their HAL screen-reading program
really work. According to Dolphin, they analyze the actual screen
image to determine what is going on instead of intercepting
Windows calls which write text and other information to the
screen. The down side to this approach appears to be that, while
HAL works well with a specific set of applications, it tends to
fall down when it comes to generalized access to software for
which it has not been configured. Suffice it to say, this will be
a large project that will not result in any immediate solutions.

     You express some frustration about the fact that we, as
blind people, require the services of technical consultants to a
greater degree than our sighted counterparts. Yes, I am afraid
you are correct. In order to solve our problems in the best
possible manner, we often require (but cannot get) technical
consultants to configure our systems so that we can use them with
the highest degree of efficiency.

     Training is another frustration. As we all know, much of the
training that people receive for Windows-related software is
oriented to the use of the mouse. We are often advised to "point
there," "click on this or that item," and to "drag and drop
objects." Little of the training available to the general
community focuses on the use of the keyboard to execute tasks.
While we do have some options in this area, we must always seek
alternative ways to accomplish the same tasks which our sighted
peers take for granted.

     Does all of this mean that we really can't do our jobs? Not
necessarily. It does mean that we must try to solve the problem
on as many fronts as possible. On the technology front we must
try to find the best screen-reading software we can while, at the
same time, pushing the large players like Microsoft and the Lotus
Corporation to make their application software compatible with
the technology we must use to accomplish our jobs.

     We must also not forget the basic skills of blindness, which
we must use to get along in the world. These basic skills often
come in handy when we need to run a piece of software that
doesn't work with our access technology. If we are lucky, most of
what we need to do with the computer can be done independently
without sighted assistance. If not, unfortunately, some of us
will become casualties in the never-ending struggle to survive in
this technological age.

     As blind computer users we often need to figure out ways to
get the same work done with different software and approaches.
For example, the job you considered applying for, in which
Netscape was an issue, might have been a good possibility for you
if your employer had been willing to let you use Microsoft
Internet Explorer instead. 

     When I worked at American Express, everybody else used
Microsoft Word or Lotus Smart Suite. Although I used these
programs when it was absolutely necessary, I did a lot of my
original composition with good old WordPerfect 5.1 for DOS. As
long as it didn't interfere with the job, nobody really cared,
and I got the work done in a highly productive manner.

     As far as Netscape itself is concerned, I know that
Henter-Joyce has done some work to make it more usable in the
Windows 95 environment. I myself have had a few frustrating
discussions with officials of Netscape. The problem is finding
the right contact and picking the battles that should be fought.
We can't beat on every company, and we can't expect to win every
battle. Ultimately we must win the war of access technology or we
will be relegated to the backwaters of society. But we will never
eliminate the need to use alternative techniques and strategies.

     At this year's NFB convention we will be conducting a
Windows 95 seminar. If you haven't had a chance to read one of
the better books written to teach the blind about Windows 95, you
may find the seminar of interest. The overall theme of the
seminar is that blind people can use Windows 95--often with
tremendous ease and efficiency.

     On a more optimistic note, you will be interested to know
that last week others in the disability community and I had a
two-day meeting with representatives of Microsoft. We discussed
accessibility, changes to future versions of Windows, and
Windows-based applications, and Microsoft's over-all commitment
to accessibility. We heard from Bill Gates himself. Mr. Gates has
expressed a stronger commitment than ever before to ensuring that
Microsoft software is accessible. I would say that I left the
meeting with more than a little frustration and just a bit of
cautious optimism.

     You asked what you could do to help. Here are a few ideas.
First, if you are having problems making a screen reader work
with a particular program, write a letter to the screen reader
vendor and send me a copy. If you are trying to make a mainstream
commercial package work with a screen reader and the problem
appears to be with the commercial package, write a letter to the
company which develops and markets the software expressing your
frustration, and send me a copy. Share your knowledge with other
blind people. Tell them what works for you and what doesn't.
Finally, keep writing to me. I appreciate hearing from you, and,
if I have any answers, I will share them with you.
                                                 Yours sincerely,
                                                     Curtis Chong
                           **********
                           **********
[PHOTO/CAPTION: Barbara Walker]
                 A Vinegar and Oil Federationist
                        by Barbara Walker
                           **********

     From the Editor: On Monday morning, June 19, 1989, I was
talking by telephone to someone at the National Center for the
Blind when I heard President Maurer make the announcement over
the public address system of the sudden death of our friend and
colleague Jim Walker, a leader in the Nebraska affiliate in his
own right and husband of then affiliate President Barbara Walker.
Like everyone who knew and loved the Walkers, I was shocked and
deeply saddened at the news of Jim's death and profoundly
distressed for Barbara and the Walkers' children Marsha and John.
Then, two weeks later, perhaps the most moving moment of the 1989
convention was Barbara's gentle and loving tribute to Jim during
the roll call of states in which she thanked the Federation
family for our loving support of her and her children in their
loss.

     Throughout these nine years since that terrible time Barbara
has learned to stand alone and has continued to provide steady
strength to her children and to the members of her Federation
family. In March of this year she attended the NFB of Missouri
convention, where she made a speech filled with the hard wisdom
she has acquired in recent years as well as the Federationism
that has characterized her for as long as she and I have been
friends. This is what she said:
                           **********

     Recently, during my morning time with God, I read an entry
in The Upper Room, a United Methodist devotional, which has
provided me with much food for thought. The meditation centered
on the word "nigh." The author, Mary Dixon, was surprised to find
that this adverb "comes from a primary root word that means 'to
squeeze or throttle.'" She goes on to say, "I had thought of
drawing nigh as a gentle way of being wooed." I admit to having
thought along those lines as well. What she said next has not
only changed my approach to God but also has brought into focus
some aspects of my life in the Federation.

     Here is some of what she said: "I thought about things that
are squeezed together, such as forming clay into shapes. But then
I wondered, how could something be throttled or shaken together?
I do my share of cooking, and it occurred to me that the oil and
vinegar that I use in salad dressing can only be mixed together
by shaking. When vinegar is poured into oil, it immediately
separates. In fact it really does not mix at all. But the shaking
creates something new.

     "We tend to think of drawing near to God as a gentle
experience, but in fact drawing near to God can be a shaking
experience. The spiritual life is about radical change and
transformation. As our lives are intermingled with God's, we will
be changed in ways we may not expect. Maturing in our faith
always requires change."

     As both a Christian and a Federationist, I have certainly
found this to be true. Since our reason for being here centers on
Federationism, I'll modify part of the last paragraph to reflect
that fact:

     . . . Drawing near to (joining) the Federation can be a
shaking experience. The Federation life is about radical change
and transformation. As our lives are intermingled with one
another's, we will be changed in ways we may not expect. Maturing
in our Federationism always requires change.

     I want today to concentrate on some of the shake-up language
we must deal with on a daily basis--the language of grieving and
tragedy--and some vinegar-and-oil responses to it. I will use as
my backdrop an incident in my adult life which changed forever my
perspective on these words and those who use them when referring
to blindness. I am speaking of the death of my husband and our
fellow Federationist, Jim Walker, on June 19, 1989.

     From late 1973 through mid-March, 1981, I made my living
working with blind adults in the Orientation and Adjustment
Center of Nebraska Services for the Visually Impaired in Lincoln,
Nebraska. I began on contract as an aide and spent the last of my
time there as Center Supervisor. The reason for my leaving was
our decision that I would be home for the birth and raising of
our anticipated family.

     During much of that time and continuing to the present, I
have been involved in the National Federation of the Blind. One
of my current responsibilities is handling phone calls to our
affiliate. Many times I have heard people say, when speaking
about their blindness, words which bring to mind the grieving
process.

     First of all I hear words of shock and denial: "I'm not
really blind," followed by--if given half a chance--a thorough
description of how shocking it all is, how impossible.

     Without being shaken up, the vinegar in me resists this
denial of reality. After all, most of the time these statements
are made by someone talking to me about the inability to see
something visually, someone wondering how to continue as a
functioning human being. I bristle at the contradiction. On the
other hand, the oil in me wants to smooth everything over, to
lead the person gently to identify with and accept the reality of
his or her blindness. I may encourage, plead, cajole, or
remonstrate, often to no avail. Under the influence of my own
shake-up experience, though, I remember: I had already gone into
shock before Jim left the house on his way to the hospital the
day of his heart attack. When he kissed me good-bye, I prayed
that this wouldn't be the last time I saw him alive. As I paced
the floor, wondering what to do, I felt him slipping away from
me. When the nurse called, urgently pressing me to come
immediately to the hospital, I knew I couldn't ask Jim what he
would suggest I do. I needed to decide alone. I also had to wake
up neighbors to come and be with the children.

     Since a sweat suit was the first clothing I came across when
I began to dress, that's what I wore. I remember hearing later
that it had been over a hundred degrees that day and feeling
surprised that I hadn't felt hot. Several days later I noticed
the sound of an air conditioner in the limousine at the cemetery,
but I didn't feel any sensation of varying temperature then,
either.

     I think I probably talked more the morning of Jim's death
than ever before or since. I told the chaplain, nurses, friends,
policemen, minister, and doctors that I felt as if I were in a
play enacting a role I didn't like but couldn't change. When I
tried to eat, I found it ironic (and said so) that I couldn't
swallow Life. (Someone had given me a bowl of Life cereal for
breakfast.)

     I came to learn that when I misplaced my keys, forgot phone
numbers, or felt every muscle hurt with the effort of moving, it
was temporary. That was a relief, but it didn't happen
immediately. And no amount of talk, however well-meaning, could
have changed my suffering at the time. Even now, when people talk
about certain events, I feel distant from them. If someone says,
"That happened in 1989," I have a sort of cobwebby feeling. I
listen with interest to talk about events which I remember in
much the same way I revisit recollections of childhood days.

     So now, when my vinegar and oil have been shaken together,
making a more palatable blend, instead of rushing in to proclaim
the good news that blindness can be reduced to a physical
nuisance, I first listen to my caller. Later there may be an
opportunity to offer my wisdom. But unless I am first willing to
hear the person out, I probably won't be the one sought when that
day dawns.

     In these calls I also hear despair: "I've lost so much.
Using a cane makes me look blind. Things will never be the same.
I just can't function without sight." Again, my vinegar makes me
bristle, while the oil causes me to focus on the ways the person
is or could be participating in life with a different outlook.
Again I reflect on my own history:

     It took me a long time to acknowledge my changed status. The
day Jim died I told God that, not only did I not want to be a
widow or a single parent, I didn't even want to minister to such
people. Earlier that year, when I commented to a friend that I
didn't know how single parents managed, she, a single parent
herself, said, "You do what you have to do."

     Her words felt heavy as I stepped from the sterile bustle of
the hospital into--could it really be?--a sunlit morning,
complete with singing birds! I paused, trying to brush aside that
Skeeter Davis song. You may know it. "Why do the birds go on
singing? Why does the sun shine above? Don't they know it's the
end of the world? . . ."

     That night I couldn't sleep in our bed. I couldn't sleep
anywhere, even with the pills the doctor had given me and
insisted that I take. I just couldn't bear life this way, but I
had to. They all said I had to--for the children, they said. But
how? And why?

     The silence swallowed the questions before anyone could
answer them. Or was it only holding them and waiting politely for
one of us to bite into one of them? I couldn't deal with that
either. So a friend and I filled the silence with words--
helpless, inadequate sounds--until, in heartsick exhaustion, I
dozed my way into another day. About two weeks later I sat in the
meeting of the Committee on Parental Concerns at the National
Federation of the Blind Convention in Denver, surrounded by
parents of children of all ages. One who stood to raise a
question identified herself as a single parent. I cringed as she
spoke, knowing that I had not yet audibly voiced my status in
that way, and wondering if I ever would think or speak of myself
as single. It was a long time before I did.

     On Wednesday, July 22, 1992, just over three years after Jim
died, I decided to take off my engagement and wedding rings and
put them away with his. That morning, before Bible School, I did
it. As I turned to leave the room, I realized that I needed to
talk to the children first. I put the rings back on.

     When we got home later that day, I talked to each child
privately. Marsha, who had just turned eleven, said she didn't
want me to do it. She said I wasn't single; I was still married
because we had never divorced. John, who was eight-and-a-half,
didn't want me to take them off either. He said he was very
upset. The rings looked nice, and my husband had given them to
me.

     After those individual conversations we discussed the
subject together in the living room. I told them of conversations
that their dad and I had had in which we had told each other
that, if one of us died, we wouldn't expect the other to remain
single. I emphasized my love for Jim, his for me, and the fact
that I had not expected ever to be in this position.

     I then explained that I thought it would be wrong for me to
go out with someone as a married person, but that, if someone
were to ask me out, I didn't think it would be wrong to go as a
single person. I added that the wedding ring is a symbol of
marriage, a condition which would last, according to our vows,
"as long as we both shall live."

     They both again expressed their concerns but agreed that it
was my decision to make. I thanked them for their opinions,
invited them to talk about it further any time they wanted to,
and said I had decided to take my rings off. I knew that day that
I had finally completed my transition from wife to single woman
and from partner to single parent.

     You may wonder why I have said so much about this
experience. I have done so because the difference between before
the shaking together and after consists largely of time and
effort, give and take, loss and redirection. The person who
speaks to me now of an unwillingness to change internally and the
struggle to incorporate external symbols finds not only a
listening ear but also a comprehending heart. In my case it was
the putting away of rings. In the case of many blind people it is
the use of a cane or Braille. But for all of us the transition is
far from instantaneous. It also doesn't happen in a vacuum.
Family members, friends, co-workers, acquaintances--all
participate in some way. And the path is seldom smooth or
straight.

     I also hear anger in my phone calls: "I hate being blind,
and I hate living in a world like this!" Often angry actions also
occur. I have taken part in many conversations in which people
both yelled and destroyed things. My response to this reaction
also varies. Although my vinegar identifies somewhat with both
vocal and physical outbursts of anger, the oil in me recalls that
I was raised to control, subdue, bury, or ignore anger. Because
without the blended tartness of vinegar the expression of anger
often frightens me, I tend to counsel people toward the choices
of my childhood--often pointing out how little anger
accomplishes. But when I confront the fury and resolution of
adult grief, I remember this:

     Almost a year after Jim died, a wave of emotion surged
through me one evening, straining every fiber of my being. My
children were making ordinary kid noises, but it felt to me as if
one more sound from either of them would blow me apart. I fled to
the garage and, oblivious to close neighbors, screamed at the top
of my lungs. Before long I was squatting unsteadily on the floor,
the tension gone. I was limp with exhaustion. As I finished my
evening duties with the children, my muscles ached as if from
overexercise. I went to bed that night thinking that I had wasted
much-needed energy on pointless anger.

     I vividly recall another evening when anger flung me into
action. The children and I had been at odds about something. With
a rush of adrenalin, I burst into John's room emphatically
insisting on silence. To give emphasis to my words, I thrust my
hand forward, ultimately breaking a panel of his window. The
sound of shattering glass brought me to a standstill. I didn't
feel the pain in my bleeding wrist and fingers until the
children's voices, tight with shock and concern, penetrated my
pulsating head. I felt ashamed and humiliated as we cleaned up
the mess and fastened a piece of cardboard over the opening.

     On the first anniversary of Jim's death, I went on what
seemed like a fast replay of the emotional labyrinth of the past
year. The anger that day was brief and furious. I remember
snatching off my rubber thongs and throwing them across the room.
I was later glad that I hadn't done anything harmful. But again I
felt the waste of energy and the seeming pointlessness of my
outburst.

     I did eventually feel and express anger toward Jim. The
children were not at home. I yelled at Jim for dying, for not
letting us have a final good-bye, for leaving me to take charge
of things by myself. I was glad the children hadn't heard me but
hoped Jim had. Afterward I lay for a long time on the bed feeling
spent. Then I said how much I loved Jim, acknowledged that
neither of us was in control of these events, and asked God for
the strength to continue.

     I felt lighter when I got up, as though a weight had been
lifted from me, and my memories of Jim were more complete after
that. I had at last spoken aloud the anger I sometimes felt, and
it had not consumed me.

     At that moment I began to understand the purpose of
releasing such anger. In so doing, I felt the struggle to stand
firm, to breathe, to reach for life and freedom. When I shake
together my vinegar and oil, I'm no longer afraid of someone
else's anger about blindness. I know that, with support and
direction, the person can release and learn from it.

     I certainly don't want to imply that all of the calls I
receive center on shock, denial, anger, or despair. Nor do I want
to leave you with the impression that I continually flash back to
one event in my life as the source and explanation of my vinegar
and oil's being blended. As the single parent of two teenagers, I
have many opportunities to be shaken up. I also don't want to
suggest that vinegar and oil have no value unless they are shaken
together. There are certainly recipes, and life events, in which
one or the other is appropriate, either alone or in combination
with other ingredients.

     My reason for using Jim's death, and not my own blindness,
to express myself here is that, among other things, it is the
deepest, most encompassing experience of loss in my adult life.
And as a friend's minister put it: "You will not always be
grieving, but you will always know that you have grieved."

     I have always been blind; and frankly, when people have told
me what a tragedy that is, I really don't understand emotionally
what they are saying, and I don't believe that my having been
born blind is a major determinant in that reaction. Instead I
thank God, my family, my education, and the National Federation
of the Blind for it. In my experience the point in life at which
one becomes blind isn't nearly as significant in forming a
perspective on blindness as is the overall environment. What is
different since Jim's death is that I no longer have to reach for
isolated small griefs in my own life in order to identify with
those who do initially find blindness to be an unbearable loss.

     I have fielded calls and entered into conversation with
many, including some of you, who accept the presence of blindness
in life as a characteristic which can be reduced to the level of
a nuisance. In a similar way I have now come to terms in some
ways with Jim's death.

     As you may have read in the Braille Monitor, we put a
Braille plaque on Jim's grave marker. The Braille is not, as some
have conjectured, there so that I can read the tombstone. I can
easily read the print tactilely. It is there because, when I
thought about what I could do to have the marker reflect
something important to Jim without putting words in his mouth, I
decided that to have his name and dates in both Braille and print
might be the best legacy a slab of granite and a plate of
stainless steel could convey. I hope it will stand as a symbol of
our changing what it means to be blind in a positive way.

     My children and I are also donating copies of each of the
Kernel Books to our church library in Jim's memory. As I said in
the memo with the first installment: "These books embody the
struggle, progress, and hope we experience."

     Personally I have found a description of Jim's constant
place in my heart. It is, of course, not really possible to put
either Jim's life or his memory into words any more than it is
possible to put a value on sight or a price on its absence. But
in November of 1990, about seventeen months after Jim died, I ran
across the lyrics to a song which I had written down from
dictation in high school (rather sloppily and unwillingly, as I
recall, thinking then that it was a bunch of romantic drivel). It
comes closer, even with the old-fashioned language, than anything
I have read or written, to expressing his presence in my life
now. It's called "A Spirit Flower," and the author is noted only
as Campbell-Tipton:
                           **********
My heart was frozen, even as the earth
That covered thee forever from my sight.
All thoughts of happiness expired at birth.
Within me, naught but black and starless night.
Down through the winter sunshine snowflakes came
All shimmering, like to silver butterflies.
They seemed to whisper softly thy dear name.
They melted with the teardrops from mine eyes.
But suddenly, there bloomed, within that hour
In my poor heart, so seeming dead, a flower
Whose fragrance, in my life, shall ever be
The tender, sacred memory of thee.
                           **********

     Acceptance of the loss or lack of sight does not compare in
every way, of course, to acceptance of the death of a person. But
some of the feelings are, I think, more similar than we may want
to believe. And the potential for understanding one another is
also, I think, less elusive than we may suspect. In both cases
it's attitude that makes the difference. It's remembering how to
use the ingredients of our personalities, including our vinegar
and oil, in ways which will bring us toward greater tolerance and
more complete acceptance of each other and those with whom we
interact collectively.

     We know as Federationists that it's respectable to be blind.
But we didn't just wake up one morning knowing that. Most of us,
blind and sighted alike, have learned it from Federationists who
have shaken together their vinegar and oil and shared the blend
with us over time. I am grateful to them.

     I would like to say something about time, though, which I
think applies to both the resolution of grief and the acceptance
of blindness as a respectable characteristic. I think Earl A.
Grollmann says it well in his book Living When A Loved One Has
Died:
                           **********
"Time heals," many people say. It may. It may help to dull the
pain. But the medicine of time is not sure. Time is neutral. What
helps is what you do with time. . . . You must help time to do
its healing. Do something. Even routine things will help. It's
hard to begin a new way of life.
                           **********

     But that is what vinegar-and-oil Federationists are all
about. We are creating a new way of life for blind people, mostly
through very routine things. And nothing that any of us does,
however great or small, is irrelevant to our movement.

     Mr. Jernigan had been living out our philosophy of blindness
within the Federation for almost twenty-five years before the day
in his office at the Iowa Commission for the Blind in 1974 when
my understanding of it began to take root and my willingness to
find a place in its work began to take shape. And now, more than
twenty years later, still finding strength in his love, life,
work, and words, I have come before you to share some of what
striving to be a vinegar-and-oil Federationist has meant to me. I
invite you to come with Mr. Jernigan, Mr. Maurer, Bruce Gardner,
Gary Wunder, Barbara Cheadle, and tens of thousands of us whose
earthly journey is not yet complete; and with Dr. tenBroek, Jim &
Dave Walker, and countless others who continue to make their mark
through us as we press on toward first-class citizenship for
blind people everywhere. Together, I know, we can and will find
the way.
                           **********
                           **********
[PHOTO DESCRIPTION: The picture is of a little girl in a soccer
uniform, holding a soccer ball. CAPTION: Jessica Rasmussen ]
            What Do You Mean, She Can't Play Soccer?
                       by Carla McQuillan
                           **********

     From the Editor: The following story first appeared in
Volume 10, Number 1, of Skipping Stones, a children's
multicultural magazine. Carla McQuillan is the President of the
National Federation of the Blind of Oregon, and Jessica and her
family are members of the affiliate. Here is the story:
                           **********

     Jessica's family has always been involved in sports,
particularly soccer. When Jessica was in the second grade and
wanted to play soccer, her family was delighted. The coach and
her team were glad to have her, but before she could play, she
and her family had to determine how she would get around the
field.

     Jessica has been totally blind since birth. She uses a white
cane to walk everywhere--but that could be a hazard for the other
players on the soccer field. She tried playing without assistance
but didn't know which way to go and missed a lot of the game.

     A teammate volunteered to hold Jessica's hand, giving verbal
directions and a play-by-play description of the game. This
worked beautifully. The coach was happy--the entire team was more
attentive to the game. The parents of the other children were
happy--their children learned new skills for working as a team.
And Jessica was happy because she was able to play soccer with
her friends.

     When Jessica entered the third grade, she signed up for
soccer again. Many teammates were the same kids Jessica had
played with the year before, but the coach was different. The new
coach refused to allow a blind child to play on his team.

     The policy of the soccer organization is that everyone is
permitted to play. There are no tryouts at this age. But the new
coach felt justified in saying, "Everybody plays, except you."

     Jessica's mother contacted the National Federation of the
Blind for help. It is an organization that works hard for all
blind people to be treated just like everybody else. They asked
the coach why Jessica couldn't play and were told, "Because she's
blind."

     "But she played last year, and everyone had fun. Why can't
she play this year?"

     The coach said, "Because she might get hurt."

     "But lots of children play soccer, and many do get hurt.
Will you prevent a clumsy, sighted child from playing, just
because he or she might get hurt?"

     The coach said, "No."

     "So why can't Jessica play?"

     "Because the team will blame her when they lose," said the
coach.

     "At this age the most important thing is learning how to
work and play as a team. Surely you aren't saying any one child
should be held responsible for the team's winning or losing. Will
you exclude sighted children who don't play well?"

     "Of course not," said the coach.

     "Then why can't Jessica play?"

     The coach became angry and said, "You're acting as if it is
normal for a blind child to play sports!"

     It should be normal for a blind child to play sports and for
every child to be permitted to be a child, regardless of the
physical challenges he or she experiences. All children should be
permitted to play, to get hurt, to fail, and to succeed, without
an adult asking them not to try.

     Childhood is for exploring and falling down and getting back
up again. This is true whether the child is blind or sighted,
deaf or not, and whether he or she gets around on legs or wheels.

     Jessica is in the third grade now--and she is playing
soccer. And maybe the coach has learned a little more about
teamwork in the process. Jessica and her mother spoke about their
experience at the recent state convention. When she was asked how
she plays soccer, she said. "I was left-forward, and left-forward
has to be out in front, scoring goals."

     Jessica and her family know that in the future there will be
tryouts for positions on the team. They know at that time she
might not be able to play. They also know there will be other
things she will never be able to do--like driving a car. But they
also know most things she wants to do in her life will be
possible with a little creative adaptation.
                           **********
                           **********
 Break Dancing Lessons in Creativity, Initiative, and Leadership
                         by E. Randy Cox
                           **********

     From the Editor: Randy Cox is the husband of the newly
elected President of the National Federation of the Blind of
Utah, Kristen Cox. He is himself an active and thoughtful member
of the NFB. This is what he says about membership and leadership
in the organization:
                           **********

     Some of you may recall a young man in his mid to late
twenties instigating limbo contests and occasionally break
dancing at the dances held during the last two national NFB
conventions.

     That was me. Although break dancing (breakin' as it is
referred to by its practitioners) used to consume several hours
of each day when I was in junior high and high school, nowadays I
find courage and agility to attempt such antics only when I'm
with friends at NFB conventions.

     This is not to say that I have left the lessons of my hip-
hop days behind me. In fact, as odd as it may sound, break
dancing has some lessons for all Federationists.

     For those lacking in hip-hop culture, I will explain some of
the basics of breakin'. The most difficult aspect of breakin' is
not learning how to balance and spin around on one's back, hands,
or head. It isn't even learning how to move one's arms and torso
in such a way as to look as though a wave of electricity has just
passed through one's body. The hardest part of breakin' is being
unique--doing something that hasn't been done before. In fact,
the highest compliment one breaker can pay to another is to say
that he or she was "fresh," meaning that he or she had done
something new.

     When learning how to break, you first observe and mimic the
movements of others. After you obtain some proficiency in the
basic movements, it is time to begin creating some trademark
variations. Failure to be creative at this point means relegation
to the position of passive onlooker, rather than inclusion as a
member of a crew.

     To understand breakin', you must understand crews--loosely
organized groups of break dancers. Each crew has its own name and
usually has eight to ten members. One crew often challenges
another to a contest at dance clubs.

     The contests, or battles, go like this. A member of the
first crew goes to the center of the dance floor and performs a
movement, say a back spin. This is followed by a member of the
opposite crew also doing a back spin but with a variation of some
kind. The cheers and yells of the onlookers determine whose
effort is best. Another member of the first crew then comes out
and performs another movement. It is now the second crew's turn
to send forward the member who can best perform that movement.

     When I was breakin' regularly, my specials were the back
spin, the hand spin, "combat uprockin'," and "pop-lockin'." When
someone from an opposing crew did any of these movements, I knew
it was time for me to break. However, if an opposing crew member
did anything other than my specialties, I remained an observer.

     Interesting, you say, but what does all this have to do with
creativity, initiative, and leadership? Plenty. First, let's
compare a break dancing crew to a chapter, division, or affiliate
of the NFB. In a crew each member has particular strengths and is
needed to play his or her part. Chapters, divisions, or
affiliates are no different.

     Some Federationists are good at using various types of
technology. Others are wonderful at interacting with legislators.
Some are best at mentoring those who are new to the Federation.
Still others find their niche in communicating with and
organizing members' ideas and talents to create the cohesive
whole. In both crews and Federation groups each person's
contribution is necessary.

     A corollary to this point is that to be on a breakin' crew
means to be consistently practicing and creating new moves--in
other words, always to be stretching and growing. As each breaker
improves, the crew improves in its ability to out-break other
crews. Similarly, one cannot be a Federationist and be passive.
Rather one must constantly seek ways to add value to one's self,
the local organization, and the larger community.

     I should add that no one had to tell any crew member what
move he or she should work on next. If I observed that we were
constantly being beaten by a certain movement, say a hand spin,
and if I felt I could excel at that movement, I would begin
working on it. Others saw different areas of weakness in which
they felt they could excel and began working on those. The NFB is
no different.

     Implicit throughout this description of breakin' is the
underlying premise and lesson that diversity in a group is to be
encouraged and valued. When my fellow crew member could perform a
movement far better than I could, I didn't feel threatened or
feel the need to try to encourage him or her to do it my way.
Rather we all applauded such differences as the lifeblood of our
crew. We all felt our crew was stronger as a result of such
differences. Not only did they give us new movements to add to
our collection, but they encouraged the belief in all of us that
there were always other variations, always a way to improve. This
belief is the very foundation of creativity, and creativity and
change are the lifeblood of a healthy, growing organization.

     Thus far I've discussed some of the similarities between
breakin' crews and organizations of the NFB. One difference worth
noting is that crews are generally self-organizing and have no
official leader. However, the NFB does have elected officers and
leaders. I now want to mention briefly how the breakin' metaphor
applies to leaders in the Federation.

     To lead a group of motivated and diversely talented
volunteers requires a leader truly to value differences. In
addition, it requires the leader to have the maturity and the
ability to communicate with people from diverse backgrounds,
viewpoints, and different self-interests so that each member
feels valued and is supported in his or her efforts to contribute
to the organization. The leader must also be willing to allow the
group's activities to reflect the complexion of the group as a
whole, rather than his or her own personal conception.

     In short, Federation leaders must learn to work collegially
with everyone in the organization. This is the challenge and the
strength of the National Federation of the Blind.

     It is helpful to remember that, regardless of the movement
each breaker was practicing on a particular afternoon, we were
all there because of our love of dancing. Similarly, regardless
of the individual roles we play in the Federation, we are all
together for a common reason: to change what it means to be
blind.
                           **********
                           **********
                             Recipes
                           **********

     The recipes this month come from members of the National
Association of Blind Students (NABS), the NFB's student division.
As usual, the division will conduct a lively convention seminar
of interest to all students on the evening of registration day,
this year Sunday, July 5. If you are a student or are interested
in student issues, you don't want to miss this event.
                           **********
[PHOTO/CAPTION: Eddie Bell]
                     Garlic Mashed Potatoes
                          by Eddie Bell
                           **********

     Eddie Bell currently serves as Vice President of the
California Association of Blind Students and as NABS Second Vice
President. He was a 1995 NFB scholarship winner and is a 1998
tenBroek Fellow.
                           **********
Ingredients:
6 to 8 potatoes
3 cloves of garlic 
2 tablespoons butter
1/2 to 3/4 cup milk, heated
salt and pepper to taste
                           **********
     Method: Peel, dice, and boil potatoes in salted water until
tender. Dice the cloves and saute with the butter in a separate
saucepan. Mash the potatoes using a hand masher or electric mixer
and add milk and garlic butter. Add salt and pepper to taste.
                           **********
                           **********
                      Green Bean Casserole
                         by Becky Boyer
                           **********

     Becky Boyer is President of the Missouri Association of
Blind Students; Secretary of the Springfield, Missouri, Chapter;
and a student at Ozark Technical Community College, where she is
double majoring in business and accounting. She has three
children.
                           **********
Ingredients:
2 cans of any style green beans
1 8-ounce jar of Cheez Whiz
1 package dried Campbell's onion soup mix
1 can of Durkee's French fried onions
                           **********
     Method: Mix together the green beans, Cheez Whiz, and dried
onion soup. Heat covered on medium for about ten minutes,
stirring occasionally. Place mixture in a casserole dish.
Sprinkle the can of French fried onions over the top. Heat in
oven at 350 for five minutes. Serve hot.
                           **********
                           **********
[PHOTO/CAPTION: Deb DeLorey]
                             Cannoli
                         by Deb DeLorey
                           **********

     Debbie DeLorey was a 1996 NFB scholarship winner. That
experience was her first introduction to the National Federation
of the Blind. She is President of the Massachusetts student
division and a member of the affiliate's Board of Directors. She
serves as NABS Treasurer and a member of the Board of the NFB
Human Services Division. Though you wouldn't know it from her
name, she comes by her familiarity with Italian cuisine
naturally.
                           **********
Ingredients:
1 pint Ricotta cheese
1 teaspoon or more granulated sugar, to taste
1 package mini chocolate chips
8 cannoli shells
                           **********
     Method: Mix together ricotta cheese, sugar, and chocolate
chips. Squeeze or pipe with pastry bag into cannoli shell. Eat
and enjoy!
                           **********
                           **********
[PHOTO/CAPTION: Josh Boudreaux]
                      Chicken and Spaghetti
                        by Josh Boudreaux
                           **********

     Josh Boudreaux is a senior computer information system major
at Louisiana Tech. He has been a member of the NFB for eight
years. He has attended both the student program and the adult
training program at the Louisiana Center for the Blind. Josh is
president of the Louisiana Association of Blind Students and the
North Central chapter in Ruston.
                           **********
Ingredients:
1/2 bell pepper, chopped
3 ribs celery, chopped
1 medium onion, chopped
2 cups chicken broth
2 8-1/2 to 10-1/2-ounce package spaghetti noodles
1 pound Velveeta cheese, cubed
2 cans cream of mushroom soup
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon pepper
4 cups chopped chicken breasts (may chop before or after cooking)
                           **********

     Method: Thoroughly cook chicken breasts (simmer in seasoned
water about 45 minutes). Then simmer bell pepper, onion, and
celery in chicken broth until vegetables are tender. Boil noodles
according to package directions until tender, and drain. Mix
together vegetables, broth, salt, pepper, cheese, soup, and
boiled chicken and toss with hot noodles. Stir well. Serves 6 to
8.
                           **********
                           **********
[PHOTO/CAPTION: Shawn Mayo]
                    Chocolate Chip Cheesecake
                          by Shawn Mayo
                           **********

     Shawn Mayo is First Vice President of the National
Association of Blind Students and a Board Member of the
Springfield chapter of the NFB of Missouri. Shawn was a national
scholarship winner in 1994 and a tenBroek fellow in 1996. She has
served as President of the Illinois and Missouri Associations of
Blind Students. She graduated from the adult training program at
BLIND, Inc., in Minneapolis. She is currently completing her
master's degree in clinical psychology and plans to pursue study
at the doctoral level.
                           **********
Ingredients:
1-1/2 cups crushed chocolate sandwich cookies (e.g., Oreos)
1/4 cup margarine, melted
3 8-ounce packages cream cheese, softened
1 14-ounce can Eagle brand sweetened condensed milk
3 eggs
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1 cup chocolate chips
1 teaspoon flour
                           **********

     Method: Preheat oven to 300 degrees. Combine cookie crumbs
and margarine. Pat firmly into bottom of 9-inch springform pan.
Beat cheese until fluffy. Add condensed milk and beat until
smooth. Add eggs and vanilla. Mix well. Toss 1/2 cup chocolate
chips with flour to coat; stir into cheese mixture. Pour into
pan. Sprinkle remaining chips on top. Bake one hour. Cool at room
temperature. Chill. Garnish top, if desired. You may substitute
graham cracker crumb crust for cookie crust.
                           **********
                           **********
                       Monitor Miniatures
                           **********
Attention Artists:

     Attention all artists: At this year's convention in Dallas,
Thomas Barretta is organizing the 1998 National Federation of the
Blind Artists' Exhibit. It will take place on Sunday, July 5, and
Monday, July 6, from 9:30 a.m. to 5:30 p.m. Setup for the art
exhibit will be Saturday, July 4, from noon to 4:30 p.m. If you
are interested in displaying your art, please contact Tom
immediately at (860) 582-6703.
                           **********

Braille Tutoring Project:

     Gintautis Burba writes to say that, under the auspices of
the Greater Brockton Chapter of the NFB of Massachusetts, a
Braille tutoring project has recently begun. Braille is being
taught weekly or bi-weekly at the meeting hall of the Prince of
Peace Lutheran Church, Saturday mornings from 10:00 a.m. to noon.
For more information about learning Braille or about this
project, contact James Daley, project coordinator, 416 Ashland
Street, Brockton, Massachusetts 02402, (508) 559-6532.
                           **********
Making Money at Home:

     Bruce Brooks has asked us to carry the following
announcement:

     Make money in your spare time. A list of over 100 ways to
make money at home is available for $2. No experience needed to
use this information. Send $2 and a self-addressed stamped
envelope to Work at Home, 135 Sherri Lane, Boyce, Louisiana
71419.
                           **********
Music Instruction Tapes Available:

     We have been asked to carry the following announcement:

     A new guitar course just for the visually impaired has been
released. The all-cassette course (nothing to see or read) was
created by Bill Brown, who has been teaching guitar for over
twenty-five years. The cost is $34.95, which includes shipping
and access to a tuning hot-line in case the student needs help
tuning his or her guitar. After completing the course, the
student will know the basic chords in first position, the most
commonly used rhythm patterns for these chords, several songs
using these chords and patterns, the names of the notes on the
strings, and several songs using these notes. The student will
also be able to access the entire Guitar-by-Ear library of guitar
songs. 

     For all of you piano players, Valdosta Music and Publishing
has also released eight piano instructional cassettes for the
blind or visually impaired. These tapes use no written music, so
they are perfect for any pianist who cannot read music. The only
pre-requisite is that the student know the names of the notes on
the piano and the location of middle C on the piano. Current
titles are "The Old Rugged Cross," the theme from "Love Story,"
"rElise," "Moonlight Sonata," blues and boogie styles,
"Georgia on My Mind," "Anniversary Waltz," and "Silent Night."
Each title is $10 plus $3.50 shipping and handling per order. For
more information or to place an order contact Bill Brown, 704
Habersham Road, Valdosta, Georgia 31602, (912) 249-0628.
                           **********
Elected:

     During its annual election on Saturday, April 4, 1998, the
Kankakee Heartland Chapter of the NFB of Illinois chose the
following officers: Bill Isaacs, President; Dan Boudreau, Vice
President; Marjorie Stouffer, Secretary; Ruth Isaacs, Treasurer;
and Marcia Beck, Alice Jordan, and David Richmond, Board Members.
                           **********
1998 Baseball Computer Game Now Available:

     We have been asked to carry the following announcement:

     Version 12 of the award-winning World Series Baseball Game
and Information System is now available. The game is being played
in forty-eight states on IBM-compatible computers with screen
readers and synthesizers. Version 12 comes with 139 teams,
including the 1997 pennant winners and all-star teams. There are
two baseball games, nine information programs, and a 1,000-
question quiz. There are many improvements, most suggested by
users of the game. Baseball action during the game is described
in the words of many of the famous radio and TV announcers. The
cost is still only $15 to new users, $5 for updates. Send your
check to Harry Hollingsworth, 692 S. Sheraton Drive, Akron, Ohio
44319 or call (330) 644-2421, e-mail: <hhhollingsworth@ibm.net>
                           **********
Pen Pals Wanted:

     We have been asked to carry the following announcement:

     Reola T. Jarrett of 825 East Belmont Avenue, Flint, Michigan
48503, requests pen pals. Reola is deaf-blind, sixty years old,
and interested in cooking. Although she is presently in Flint,
she hopes one day to be able to take up farming. She prefers
letters in Braille, please.
                           **********
Elected:

     The Tennessee Blind Merchants Division recently elected the
following officers: Kim Williams, President; Susan Barnes, First
Vice President; Norman Bolton, Second Vice President; Chris
Moore, Secretary; and Rick Williams, Treasurer.
                           **********
Old Braille Watches Wanted:

     We have been asked to carry the following announcement:

     If you have an old Braille watch, intact but no longer
running, would you consider giving it to a blind child? Send
watches to Lydia Schuck, 1981 Eden Road, Mason, Michigan 48854-
9255. Lydia, the mother of a blind child, will mail the watches
to blind children.
                           **********
New Products from APH:

     We have been asked to carry the following announcement:

     The Braille Connection is a Braille reading and writing
program for former print users designed to teach former adult and
teenage print readers how to read Braille and how to adapt it to
their lives. The result of a joint collaboration of APH and the
National Federation of the Blind, this instructional program is
designed to be as flexible as possible to meet the needs of each
individual student. It moves quickly through tactile
discrimination to Grade I Braille and then to Grade II. The
program is designed to be used under the supervision of a
qualified Braille teacher. The materials include instructional
and mentoring guides. Call APH for a complete description. The
Braille Connection Kit costs $129 (print) and $149 (Braille).
This includes the Teacher's Edition, $40 (print), $60 (Braille);
Workbook, $14.50 (print) $25 (Braille); Student Practice Book,
$16 (print) $18 (Braille); and Mentoring Manual, $7.50 (print and
Braille).

     The American Printing House for the Blind (APH) sells the
following new products: Basic Tactile Anatomy Atlas. This new
two-volume set of thermoform graphics aids blind and visually
impaired students twelve and up in studying the human body. The
Basic Tactile Anatomy Atlas is taken from a larger set of anatomy
tactile graphics designed at the State University of New York at
Buffalo for college-level study. With the permission of the
authors, Drs. Judith Tamburlin and Charles Severin, many of the
more technical drawings were omitted and the text simplified to
make this set accessible to a wider school audience. Volume I
includes illustrations of the skeletal, muscular, nervous, and
endocrine systems. Volume II illustrates the structures of the
cardiovascular, lymphatic, respiratory, digestive, urinary, and
reproductive systems. Each tactile diagram has Braille and print
labels accompanied by a brief Braille description found on the
page facing the illustration. A print version of each Brailled
text is contained in the included instructional text. The cost is
$105.

     Money Handling and Budgeting is a resource guide with an
adapted practice checkbook that helps adolescents or young adults
learn money-handling skills. It is a collection of techniques and
resources for teaching blind or visually impaired people (eleven
and up) the skills to manage money in daily life. This guide
(available in large print and Braille) is based on the premise
that daily living skills must be learned in natural settings and
with real-life applications whenever possible. The cost is $28
for either print or Braille.

     Pairs of tough dark royal blue or clear frosted plastic
covers, measuring 11-3/4 by 11 inches, are available to bind 11-
1/2 by 11 inch Braille pages. They are 19-hole punched and may be
bound with a 19-ring comb binding or twin loop binding. They will
bind tractor-feed, manila, or Brailon 19-hole papers available
from APH.

     There is no minimum quantity requirement, and each set costs
$1.40. For more information or to place an order, contact APH,
Inc., 1839 Frankfort Avenue, P.O. Box 6085, Louisville, Kentucky
40206-0085, (800) 223-1839, (502) 895-2405, or e-mail:
<info@aph.org>; Web site: <http://www.aph.org>
                           **********
New Catalog Available:

     We have been asked to carry the following announcement:

     Give the gift that says something. Speak to Me premieres in
its Spring/Summer '98 catalog a generous selection of Christmas
gifts and decorations for the early Christmas shopper. Items
include a new 50-minute personal note recorder, a voice-
recognition cordless phone, a talking heart-rate monitor, and a
new caller I.D. box that works with call-waiting. In addition, we
have many new children's items from cuddly teddy bears to
educational toys (pre-school and up). We also have talking key
chains, spatulas, magnets, theme mugs; unique music boxes and
musical watches; etc. To request your free catalog, contact Speak
to Me, 17913 108th Avenue, S.E. Suite 155, Renton, Washington
98055, (800) 248-9965, fax (206) 227-4892, e-mail:
<speak@clickshop.com>
                           **********
Talking Book Marker:

     We have been asked to carry the following announcement:

     Ever fall asleep while listening to a cassette book and have
a hard time finding your place the next morning? The Talking Book
Marker plugs into a jack near the headphone jack of your cassette
player. You hold the switch down while listening to the tape.
When your grip relaxes as you fall asleep, the switch releases
and the Talking Book stops, marking your place. The cost is
$27.95, including shipping. For more information or to place an
order, contact Jim Daily, 835 Emma Street, Butte, Montana 59701,
(406) 782-2202.
                           **********
[PHOTO/CAPTION: Angela Curvin]
In Memoriam:

     Allen Harris, President of the NFB of Michigan, sadly
reports the death of Angela Curvin on April 6, 1998. Angela was
fifty-one at the time of her death from cardiac arrest. She had
been an active member of the NFB for over twenty-five years. She
participated in several Washington Seminars and held positions on
the Board of Directors of both the Detroit chapter and the state
affiliate. She will truly be missed.
                           **********
Low-Vision Adaptive Products Store:

     We have been asked to carry the following announcement:

     Elliot Schreier, former director of the American Foundation
for the Blind's National Technology Center, opened a new store
called Magnify It, the Low Vision Center, in White Plains, New
York. The store is open to the public and carries magnifiers,
daily living aids, closed-circuit televisions, and personal
computer systems. For more information contact Magnify It, (914)
289-0909, or e-mail: <info@magnifyit.com>
                           **********
Business Opportunity:

     Kenneth Jones, Treasurer of the NFB of Kentucky, has asked
us to carry the following:

     I have found the perfect business in the telecommunications
industry in which I am my own boss and can work in my spare time.
I am currently a full-time teacher and wrestling coach, so
flexibility is essential. The business has no inventory, no
deliveries, and no collections. But, most important, you can run
it from your home. You can earn immediate and residual income.
For information about this opportunity call me at (502) 456-4806,
or toll-free (888) 901-5639.
                           **********
Business Opportunities in Piano-Tuning Technology:

     We have been asked to carry the following announcement:

     If you would like to make a living doing a variety of jobs,
working in a variety of places, meeting all kinds of interesting
people, and being well paid for it, piano-tuning technology is
the career for you. The Emil Fries School of Piano Tuning and
Technology has been training visually impaired people for nearly
fifty years. The school was established in 1949 and has prepared
hundreds for a career with financial independence and personal
fulfillment.

     In this training program you will work in an actual piano
store and repair-shop environment. You will learn alongside other
students, sighted and blind, developing respect for each other's
abilities.

     Those interested are invited to attend the newly organized
NFB Piano Tuners Division at the National Convention at 8:00
p.m., Monday, July 6, 1998. Check your Convention agenda for
location. Current catalogs in Braille and on disk will be
available shortly.

     To learn more about this business opportunity, contact Emil
Fries School of Piano Tuning and Technology, 2510 E. Evergreen
Boulevard, Vancouver, Washington 98661, (360) 696-1985, fax,
(360) 693-6891, e-mail: <dsmitch@pacifier.com>; Web site
<http://www.pacifier.com/~dsmitch>.
                           **********
                           **********
                           NFB PLEDGE
                           **********

     I pledge to participate actively in the effort of the
National Federation of the Blind to achieve equality,
opportunity, and security for the blind; to support the policies
and programs of the Federation; and to abide by its constitution.



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