                       THE BRAILLE MONITOR
Vol. 42, No. 5                                         June, 1999

                     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) 869-4599
              Web Page address: http://www.nfb.org



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             should be sent to the National Office.




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                National Federation of the Blind
                       1800 Johnson Street
                    Baltimore, Maryland 21230





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





ISSN 0006-8829



Vol. 42, No.                                           June, 1999
                            Contents

Introducing the Atlanta Marriott Marquis Hotel
     by Barbara Pierce

University of Louisville Honors President Maurer

The Inclusionary Express
     by James Bickford

Braille Reading Speed Are You Willing to Do What It Takes?
     by Susan Ford and Ramona Walhof

Reflections of a Braille Student
     by Barbara Pierce

Garden of Knowledge, Garden of Beauty
     by William P. Rowland, Ph.D.

The Miracle of Dallas
     by Sally Miller

Skydiving Over Kapowsin
     by Tom Hicks

More to Life Than Meets the Eye
     by Deborah Kent Stein

To Take the Plunge
     by Doug Elliott

Competing on Terms of Equality
     by Kenneth Jernigan

China's Disabled Are Victims of a New Economy

Children and Chain Saws
     by Marc Maurer

The Feeling of Art
     by Molly Miron

The Danger of Passing
     by Jody W. Ianuzzi

Mrs. Pelzer Retires
     by Mary Ellen Thompson

A Stalwart Retires
     by Marc Maurer

Recipes

Monitor Miniatures

       Copyright (c) 1999 National Federation of the Blind



[LEAD PHOTO/CAPTION: The Atrium of the Atlanta Marriott Marquis
Hotel DESCRIPTION: The lead photo is a spectacular view of the
Atrium taken from many stories up. Slanting down the picture
shows the glass elevators rising in their central column.]


         Introducing the Atlanta Marriott Marquis Hotel
                        by Barbara Pierce
                           **********
     I don't know about you, but I always find it helpful to know
something about a convention hotel before walking into it for the
first time. Several people who have already visited this year's
convention headquarters hotel have pooled their information to
give you a preview of the beautiful Atlanta Marriott Marquis, and
I have tried to shape the material in a way you will find useful.
I am grateful to them for their help, and I take full
responsibility for any errors or confusion that may have crept
in.

     The main entrance of the Marriott faces Peachtree Center
Avenue, which is west of the hotel. To reach the Marriott from
the street, you walk east through a covered courtyard formed by
the Marquis One Office Tower on the south and the Marquis Two
Office Tower on the north. At the east end of the courtyard are
the main entrance doors.

     The hotel lobby is long and narrow along its east-west axis.
The bell stand and hotel registration desk are on the north side
of the lobby at the west end. On the south side at that end is
access to the Executive Center, a complex of meeting rooms named
for wines and wine-growing regions--Bordeaux, Rhine, Chardonnay,
etc. To the east of this area are the health center (free to
hotel guests and open from 6:00 a.m. to 11:00 p.m.) and a locker
area. At the east end of the building on the south side of the
lobby are more meeting rooms, this time named for rivers--Tigris,
Danube, Thames, etc. The McKenzie, Yukon, and Rio Grande Rooms in
this area will house NFB Camp this year. Along the north wall of
the lobby are hotel offices. Stairs and escalators leading down
to the Convention and Exhibit Levels and up to the Garden Level
can be found in both the west end of the lobby (south of the
hotel registration desk) and at the east end.

     The elaborate set of glass elevators in the spectacular
fifty-story atrium pictured in the lead photograph occupies the
center of the lobby, and several seating areas are scattered
around the lobby. A word should be said about the elevators. All
fifteen are located in the center of the atrium and stop at the
Convention, Lobby, Garden, and Skyline Levels, but it is
important to board the one traveling to the guest-room floor you
are hoping to reach. They divide like this: floors 1 to 17, 18 to
30, 31 to 41, and 42 to 47. If you should find yourself heading
to the wrong part of the hotel, press the button for the Skyline
Level, which is the tenth floor. Stairs connect the Skyline Level
with both the ninth and eleventh floors.

     The Garden Level is immediately above the lobby. Several
restaurants are located on this floor. The west portion of the
Garden Level is connected to the larger east side by walkways on
both sides of the escalators and stairs that lead down to the
main entrance. The courtyard in front of the hotel is beneath
this west end. Access to the two office towers is from the south
and north sides of this central space. Several retail shops,
including a gift shop, are located in the center of this west
end, and a group of four meeting rooms occupies the far west end
and northwest corner of the space. These rooms are named for
glamorous get-away spots--Shangri La, Riviera, South Hampton, and
Monte Carlo.

     The entrance to the Peachtree Center Mall is on the south
side of the west section. Access to the food court, a number of
shops, and the Metropolitan Atlanta Rapid Transit Authority
(MARTA) system is from this point on the Garden Level.

     If you walk east and cross the bridge, you will come to the
Grandstand Lounge: You can enjoy a casual drink while viewing the
fifty-story atrium from this comfortable lounge suspended one
floor above the Garden Level and reached by a flight of stairs at
the west end. Hours: 4:30 p.m. to 12:00 midnight.

     On the south wall of the Garden Level at about this point is
Champions, the American Sports Bar. Choose from a wide assortment
of appetizers, burgers, sandwiches, and salads. Champions is open
for lunch, dinner, and late-night entertainment. It also offers
wine, cocktails, and beers from sixteen countries. Entertainment
includes twenty-six televisions with satellite technology, two
big screens, basketball, football, and eighteen-hole putting
games, pool tables, and more. Hours: 11:30 a.m. to 2:00 a.m.

     At the north side of the Garden Level is the Marquis
Steakhouse: great steaks with a southern flair. Dinner is served
nightly from 6:00 p.m. to 10:00 p.m. and features traditional
steakhouse fare with southern culinary accents complemented by an
outstanding wine list.

     One of the most attractive features of the Marriott Marquis
is the Atrium Express, located southeast of the Steakhouse. Quick
fare includes specialty coffee drinks, breakfast pastries,
juices, fresh fruit, sandwiches, and sweets. Hours vary. You can
order quick-to-prepare items and carry them to nearby tables.
Almost in the northeast corner of the Garden Level is Allie's
American Grille: traditional American cuisine, open for
breakfast, lunch, and dinner. It features a hearty breakfast
buffet every morning. The hours are breakfast: 6:00 a.m. to 11:00
a.m.; Lunch: 11:30 a.m. to 5:00 p.m.; dinner 5:00 p.m. to 12:00
midnight. In the southeast corner of the Garden Level is the
indoor/outdoor swimming pool, but please note that access to it
is from the health club on the Lobby Level. Escalators and stairs
at this east end of the hotel give access to all four public
levels--Garden, Lobby, Convention, and Exhibit.

     The Convention Level is one floor below the lobby. The west
end contains several meeting rooms named for world cities--
Sidney, Bonn, London, and Zurich. The State and Cabinet Rooms are
also in this area. The Marquis Ballroom occupies the north wall
of the Convention Level across most of its west-to-east length.
The smaller Imperial Ballroom, which divides into Ballrooms A and
B, occupies the south wall across from Marquis Ballroom 2. Two
smaller meeting rooms (the Consulate and Summit Rooms) extend a
bit to the north at the east end of Imperial Ballroom B forming a
shallow alcove at this entrance. Imperial Ballroom B, by the way,
is the location for convention registration on July 1 and 2.

     The southeast area of the Convention Level contains a number
of meeting rooms named mostly for Canadian and European cities.

     The Exhibition Level is immediately below the Convention
Level, on the hotel's east and south sides. Stairs, escalators,
and two elevators at the east side of the hotel connect the
Convention, Lobby, and Garden Levels with the lobby of the
Exhibit Level. The Courtland Street entrance is also in this
lobby. We will be using the International Hall South for this
year's displays of technology and other products.

     If you are among those who made your room reservations
early, you will be glad to know that guest rooms at the Marriott
are equipped with irons and ironing boards, coffee makers, and
hair dryers. If all the information about this year's convention
opportunities has convinced you to join us in Atlanta but you
haven't yet made your reservation, there is still space at our
overflow hotel, the Hilton Atlanta and Towers, just across
Courtland Street, and the rooms at the Hilton are beautifully
appointed. They are also equipped with hair dryers, coffee
makers, and irons. The Hilton, too, has wonderful restaurants
(five of them), and its elevators are likely to be less crowded.
To make your room reservation at the Hilton, call the direct
number for the Hilton Atlanta and Towers, (404) 659-2000. Like
those at the Marriott, NFB convention room rates at the Hilton
are singles, $57; doubles and twins, $59; triples, $61; and
quads, $63, plus tax of 14 percent. The Hilton will want a $60
deposit, for which you can use a credit card, and the charge will
be made against your card immediately and then applied to your
hotel bill. Please note that both hotels have designated guest
rooms for smokers and a lounge in which smoking is permitted, but
otherwise they are both smoke-free facilities.

     The 1999 convention will be like no other we have ever
conducted. It's our first visit to Atlanta, and in many ways we
will be setting our course this year for the new millennium. You
won't want to miss the event, and it won't be the same without
you. So call Glyndon Square Travel, (800) 875-9685, to make your
travel arrangements and the Hilton for your room reservation, and
join us June 30 to July 7 for the most exciting and informative
gathering of the blind to take place in 1999. See you in Atlanta.
                           **********
                           **********
[PHOTO DESCRIPTION: President Maurer, dressed in academic gown
and mortarboard and carrying his white cane, stands smiling as a
woman drops an academic hood over his shoulders. CAPTION:
University of Louisville Provost Carol Garrison hoods President
Maurer at UL commencement ceremonies Saturday, May 8, 1999.]

[PHOTO DESCRIPTION: The picture shows a portion of the Galt House
Ballroom containing tables surrounded by celebrating people.
CAPTION: Hundreds filled the Galt House Ballroom for the Saturday
evening celebration of the accomplishments of blind people.]

[PHOTO/CAPTION: After the speech making, guests took to the dance
floor to enjoy big band music. Norm and Maggie Gardner of Utah
can be seen in the foreground.]

[PHOTO/CAPTION: The Maurer family (left to right) Dianna Marie,
Patricia, Marc, and David Patrick]

[PHOTO/CAPTION: Fred Schroeder, Commissioner of the
Rehabilitation Services Administration; Marc Maurer, President of
the National Federation of the Blind; Betty Niceley, President of
the NFB of Kentucky; and Tim Cranmer, President of the
International Braille Research Center, Inc.]

[PHOTO/CAPTION: Four members of the Ohio delegation: Eric Duffy,
President of the Capital Chapter; Barbara Pierce, President of
the NFB of Ohio; Mark McClain; and Crystal McClain, President of
the Ohio Parents of Blind Children Division]

        University of Louisville Honors President Maurer
                           **********
     From the Editor: The University of Louisville conducted its
1999 commencement ceremonies in Freedom Hall on the afternoon of
May 8. The weather was cool and sunny, and observers would have
noticed an unusual number of white canes among the thousands of
guests who took their seats in the huge facility.

     Before the more than two thousand degrees of various kinds
were presented to the graduates, honorary degrees were bestowed
by UL president John W. Shumaker. The first of these was to Marc
Maurer, President of the National Federation of the Blind. He was
introduced by Carol Z. Garrison, University of Louisville
Provost, and presented for the honor by Hilda Caton, professor in
the Department of Special Education. Here is the text of Dr.
Caton's citation which accompanied the diploma, followed by the
text of the certificate:
                           **********
     Marc Maurer, an exemplary American, you have served the
blind of the nation as their elected leader, standard bearer,
source of inspiration, and advocate for social equality, economic
opportunity, and first-class status in the larger society. You
have received wide recognition as a scholar, author, orator,
educator, and counselor to the blind, their families, friends,
and the general public. You have represented your community, your
state, and your country with distinction in all levels of public
service. Your leadership role in the establishment of
NEWSLINE(R), providing a growing number of national and local
newspapers to the print-handicapped population through the use of
a touch-tone telephone, and your role as legal representative in
numerous issues of equality for the blind clearly illustrate the
extraordinary ability and commitment which have earned for you
the profound respect of your peers. Known as a man of integrity,
a man of honor, and an accomplished attorney, you continue to
serve the blind of the nation and the world with distinction.
Your record as President of the National Federation of the Blind,
as well as President of the North America/Caribbean Region of the
World Blind Union, continues to elevate the status of the blind
and to increase public awareness and understanding of their role
of equality in society. For the truly outstanding skills you have
demonstrated, the University of Louisville is proud to award you
the degree of Doctor of Laws (honoris causa).
                           **********
                           Certificate
     To all to whom these letters shall come, greetings: the
Trustees of the University of Louisville on the recommendation of
the Graduate Faculty and by virtue of the authority in them
vested have conferred upon Marc Maurer the degree of Doctor of
Laws honoris causa with all the rights, privileges, and honors
pertaining thereto given at the University of Louisville in the
Commonwealth of Kentucky on the eighth day of May in the Year of
our Lord the one thousand nine hundred ninety-ninth, of the City
of Louisville the two hundred twenty first, of the Commonwealth
of Kentucky the two hundred seventh, and of the University of
Louisville the two hundred first.
                           **********
     Following the ceremony and an early dinner, NFB officers and
their spouses; representatives from eighteen states; Kentucky
Federationists; leaders in the blindness technology field; and
dignitaries from city and state government, the Kentucky School
for the Blind, the American Printing House for the Blind, and the
University of Louisville gathered in a ballroom at the Galt House
Hotel for an evening of good food, good music, and celebration.
Betty Niceley, President of the NFB of Kentucky, served as
mistress of ceremonies, and the acting mayor of Louisville
presented Dr. Maurer with a key to the city. Those who spoke made
clear their pride in Dr. Maurer and their respect for the NFB and
the accomplishments of the organized blind in the state and
around the world. It was truly an evening for celebrating the
progress made during this century by the members of the National
Federation of the Blind. Here are the remarks Dr. Maurer made
during this memorable evening:
                           **********
               Landmarks of the Twentieth Century
                         by Marc Maurer
                           **********
     Many people believe that the blind are peculiar. Some think
that we are particularly musical, that we have a better sense of
smell than the sighted, that our hearing is superior to that of
others, and that our sense of touch can feel what the sighted
cannot. At the same time we are thought to be essentially
immobile, without the capacity for social interaction,
supersensitive about our blindness, possessed of a limited
capacity to learn, without access to the printed word, and mostly
uninformed. With all of these characteristics we are also
sometimes regarded as especially blessed. If all of these
characteristics were true, it would be astonishing if we the
blind were able to accomplish much of anything at all. So what
have the blind done? What are the attainments of this
particularly visible group? 

     During the twentieth century there have been two distinct
periods of history for the blind. One could speculate that a
third period is fast approaching, but that will necessarily be
left to the historians of the future. However, the two different
times for the blind are the period before 1940 and the time after
that pivotal date. Before 1940 there were a number of
organizations established to serve the blind, but the blind
themselves had not yet come to take a hand in determining their
own destiny. The blind were people for whom things were done or
to whom things were given. Even though a few blind people had
become a part of the structure of the agency system, these few
did not represent the blind. Rather they represented either
themselves or the agencies by which they had been employed or
with which they had become associated.

     When the National Federation of the Blind was organized, it
was soon evident that, in order to represent the interests of the
blind, a person had to be elected by the blind. It was not
sufficient to lack eyesight--that is, to be blind. To speak for a
particular group, a person must be selected and supported by that
group. In 1940 the National Federation of the Blind came into
being, and in that year the future of the blind changed forever.
This is so because we who are blind decided that we would make
the future what we wanted it to be. We recognized the fundamental
truth that nobody can win freedom for somebody else. Each person
must win his or her own freedom or go without.

     Great changes must have leaders to make them come true.
Nothing great has ever been accomplished without passion, and at
least one notion of what makes people great is that they have the
spirit and the dedication to follow a set of principles over a
substantial length of time. Dr. Cranmer has already mentioned the
leader of the organized blind movement who possessed the wit and
courage to persuade others to join with him to form the
Federation. Dr. Jacobus tenBroek was the founder of the National
Federation of the Blind. He, a brilliant blind professor, led the
movement from the time of its beginning until his death in 1968.
I never met him, but I met and came to have the closest and most
harmonious friendship with the man who was his successor.

     That was Dr. Kenneth Jernigan, who became President of the
Federation in 1968. Dr. Jernigan possessed the passion to believe
in a future that is better than the present, and he worked to
bring that future into being. What did he and Dr. tenBroek have
for building materials? In the early years there were only a
handful of blind people who (responding to the teaching of Dr.
tenBroek and Dr. Jernigan) could dream of a bright day when the
talents of the blind would be recognized for what they are rather
than being interpreted as special, different, and odd. These few
blind people were the nucleus of the organization that would
eventually spread over the United States and capture the hearts
and minds of the blind.

     From this small beginning a national organization was
created with affiliates in every state, the District of Columbia,
and Puerto Rico. Fund-raising programs were instituted to permit
the operation of this nationwide organization. The largest
circulation magazine in the field of work with the blind was
founded to report on occurrences dealing with blindness from the
point of view of blind people themselves. Philosophical writings
were published that changed the expectations of blind people in
this nation and in other lands. Practical plans were created to
bring programs of rehabilitation and training to the blind that
would give maximum emphasis to the talents of blind people.
Increasingly blind people were encouraged to become a part of the
administration of educational programs for the blind. Educational
systems to offer support to the parents of blind children and to
encourage better training for blind children themselves were
founded.

     The National Center for the Blind was put into place, and
the remodeling was pursued to make this once faded and
deteriorating building in Baltimore into the practical and
impressive facility it is today. Cooperative efforts between the
blind and agencies to serve them were brought into being. The
International Braille and Technology Center for the Blind was
planned and put into operation. A campaign to increase Braille
literacy for blind children and adults was carried forward
throughout the nation. The first fifteen of the Kernel Books
(those small volumes that contain first-hand accounts of the
lives of individual blind people) were edited and distributed to
well over three million people. International cooperation between
the blind of the United States and blind people from a number of
other countries became possible. The NEWSLINE(R) for the Blind
network (the system that reads the text of seven major newspapers
and dozens of local ones to the blind) was conceived, built, and
disseminated to tens of thousands of blind people throughout the
country. And there were dozens of other accomplishments. Perhaps
the most dramatic alteration in the pattern of our existence is
the change in the point of view of the blind themselves. We who
are blind began to expect much of ourselves, and we planned to
make contributions to the world in which we live.

     I came to the Federation myself in 1969, and I heard the
inspiring words of these two leaders, but I couldn't quite
believe that they meant what they said. They told me that a blind
person could do anything that a sighted person could do except
see, and I hoped that they were right, but I had my doubts. I
even voiced some of them, but I was afraid to press too hard
because I thought the beautiful myth might disappear. But Dr.
Jernigan wouldn't let me alone. He insisted that I express my
doubts and that I examine them in detail. 
                           **********
     I told him that I knew better than to believe what he said
because I knew about blindness. "Blind people cannot do
everything that sighted people do except see," I said; "the
examples are everywhere."

     "Show me what you mean," he said.

     To which I responded, "Blind people are unable to drive.
Furthermore, I have been in a chemistry laboratory, and blind
people cannot see the color changes in the test tubes.
Consequently," I said, "they cannot be chemists."

     "We will take them in order," Dr. Jernigan told me. "With
the technology we have today, blind people cannot operate an
automobile alone. However, is the operation of a car essential
for independence? Take the President of the United States, for
example. The President never operates an automobile. Does this
signify that the President is not independent? Independent travel
means you get where you want to go when you want to get there
with minimal inconvenience to yourself and to others. With a
little imagination and planning any blind person in the ordinary
circumstance can do this.

     "Now for the chemistry," he said. "Were you in the chemistry
laboratory because you were studying chemistry?" he wanted to
know.

     "Yes," I admitted.

     "Did you pass the course?" he asked me.

     "Yes, of course," I responded. "I got good grades in
chemistry."

     "Did they give you the grades as a gift, or did you earn
them?" he asked me.

     "I earned the grades," I told him. "During part of the
chemistry class I assisted with the teaching of other students."

     To which he said, "You have demonstrated the point. It may
be important at times in the study of chemistry to use vision
(yours or somebody else's), but it is not essential to the
acquisition of knowledge that the chemist have sight. Somehow in
the chemistry laboratory you learned about the changes of the
color in the test tubes. Beyond that," he said, "I can today name
for you several people who are working as chemists for the
government of the United States, for the Exxon Corporation, and
for some less well known chemistry firms." That conversation with
Dr. Jernigan was one of the major elements in my training. I had
begun to learn a new method of thought.

     I studied under Dr. Jernigan's direction for a little more
than a year. Then he helped me get the money to go to college.
Sometimes I would sit alone in my dormitory room at the
University of Notre Dame wondering what Dr. tenBroek did to lift
his spirits and give him perspective on the days when he was told
constantly (as sometimes happens to a blind person) that he had
to be realistic and accept his limitations.

     When I became discouraged, I listened to the uplifting
addresses of Dr. tenBroek and Dr. Jernigan as they had been
delivered to past conventions of the National Federation of the
Blind. But what was it that inspired Dr. tenBroek? Perhaps today,
with the perspective of thirty years of wondering and work, I
have an inkling of how he felt and what he did. When I joined the
organization thirty years ago, I could not have believed what I
now accept as a matter of course. 

     Can a blind person become a mechanic? Yes, of course; I have
done it myself. Can a blind person install a roof on a house? I
have done this also. Can a blind person build a piece of
furniture? Many of us have done this as well. Can a blind person
become a scientist? Or a lawyer? Or a teacher of the blind or the
sighted? Or a translator of foreign languages? Or a politician?
Now that I begin listing the possibilities, I reflect that it
would be easier to list the professions that are not available to
the blind than it is to register the ones that are.

     What was it that caused so many blind people to become so
many different things within the last fifty-nine years--since the
founding of the National Federation of the Blind in 1940? It was
the inspiration and example of other blind people. Great
movements need leaders, but this is only half of the equation.
They must also have rank-and-file members who, when they learn of
the new ideas and the innovative plans, recognize within them a
reflection of reality. No great change can happen within a group
or an element of the social structure unless there is something
the social order comes to feel is better about the new method of
thinking from the one that went before. Within a movement leaders
are important, but the members are at least as important. The
progress comes not from the one or the other, but from the
combination of the two.

     And so I thank you for all of the kind words you have said
about me today. And I return them to you. To all of you who are
mechanics, farmers, teachers, newspaper reporters, lawyers,
homemakers, businessmen and women, insurance salesmen and women,
automobile sellers, furniture builders, stockbrokers, students,
and the rest. You have challenged and inspired me. As I look at
the National Federation of the Blind, I recognize the driving
force that impelled Dr. tenBroek--it was the great family of the
Federation in all of its diversity and enthusiasm. It was the
people who pledged their minds and hearts, their time and
resources, their hopes and faith in the goodness of what we can
build together.

     I too am inspired by this same family. It brings joy to my
heart and a boost to my spirit. I cannot come to the Federation
without knowing that we possess something of a special order. We
believe in one another; we have the faith to trust in our
brothers and our sisters. We have the knowledge that we will
build our own future and that the task of creating the pattern of
tomorrow will demand all that is best within us--but that we are
equal to the challenge. This mutual caring and commitment is, I
am absolutely convinced, the intangible element that makes us the
family that we are.

     We the blind have come a long way together, and we have
found many thousands of sighted friends who glory in our progress
and give us their utmost support. I have no doubt that we will
complete the task of achieving independence; I have no doubt that
working together we will find the strength to make the future our
own.
                           **********
                           **********
[PHOTO/CAPTION: Dr. James Bickford]
                    The Inclusionary Express
                        by James Bickford
                           **********
     From the Editor: Dr. James (Blue) Bickford was the 1998
recipient of the NFB's Distinguished Educator of Blind Children
Award. The following comments are derived from the presentation
he gave at the Annual Meeting of the National Organization of
Parents of Blind Children in Dallas, Texas, July 6, 1998. They
first appeared in Future Reflections, the NOPBC's quarterly
magazine.
                           **********
     What I am about to tell you this morning is my truths. They
are not global, for global truths do not exist. Truth changes
from day to day, as do the needs of our children. The one
sustaining idea is that all of our children have a right--
entitlement--to education, and within that entitlement is the
implied right to an equal education. This means access to and
comprehension of not only curricular materials but also of those
skills which are necessary to independent function: mobility,
daily living skills, Braille, social skills, and above all
literacy.

     Public Law 94-142 began in 1975 amidst great controversy and
confusion as an attempt to insure that all handicapped children
have the right to a free, appropriate public education. Today the
same law remains on the books under a new name--IDEA--the
Individuals with Disabilities Education Act.

     As early as 1974 professionals began to see the pitfalls of
mainstreaming all handicapped students. Edwin W. Martin, Deputy
Commissioner for Education of the Handicapped, expressed many of
these concerns succinctly:

     If in advocating mainstreaming we don't plan today for the
     societal patterns of response to the handicapped, we will be
     painfully naive, and I fear we will subject many children to
     a painful and frustrating experience in the name of
     progress.

     I am concerned today about the pell-mell and, I fear,
     naive mad dash to include children, based on our hopes
     of better things for them. I fear we are failing to
     develop our approach to inclusion with a full
     recognition of the barriers that must be overcome.

     There is a mythical quality to our approach to
     inclusion. It has jump-on-the-band-wagon qualities, and
     my concern is that we do not deceive ourselves because
     we so earnestly seek to rectify the ills of
     segregation.

     Listing barriers of attitude, training, logistical support,
coordinated prescriptive planning, and failure to insure
appropriate evaluative criteria, Martin went on to state that
programs must focus on "the social and emotional aspects of the
children's lives, for much of our hope for mainstreaming lies in
this realm."

     Today, of course, the term is no longer mainstreaming but
full inclusion. My present concern for full inclusion, with its
accompanying speed and confusion, is that the current leadership
has completely forgotten the schedules, timing, safety controls,
and indeed the destination which has been so clearly charted from
the past. It is an injustice of the highest order to blind
individuals--and total disaster to the multiply handicapped--to
force these groups to climb aboard the Inclusionary Express
before the itinerary is planned and the track is laid.

     But why this talk of inclusion and mainstreaming when the
real issue here is of solid educational foundations? It sounds as
though I would like to have every blind child at a school for the
blind. Not so. However, I will take the stand that literacy,
concept development, self-image, and the ability to be involved
in the classroom are fundamental to the individual's ability to
be included and be successful in the broader community.

     Although the law was intended to provide a continuum of
placements for handicapped and blind children from total
inclusion to special school placements, many districts and states
have opted to interpret this portion of the law to mean that all
children should be educated in the regular classroom and that
blind children may be placed generically in any program that
would provide educational benefit. At the other end of the
spectrum some school districts have decided to transfer out to
other schools and agencies nearly all of their blind students in
order not to have to bother with them. Neither of the two above
solutions is really viable. Without a continuum of programs which
provide for the most productive placement, school districts may
find themselves faced with due process hearings and legal
battles.

     But the Special Education Director is faced with the local
school board that must fund appropriate programs with a very
specific and limited tax base. It would then appear that the most
economically feasible program would be to include as many blind
children as possible in the regular classroom. The second most
feasible alternative is to form special education resource
groupings and hire a cross-categorically-trained teacher to
provide what she or he can to the students. Out-of-school
placements are not generally recommended because they tend to be
by far the most expensive. While any of the above alternatives
may indeed provide an appropriate education and some educational
benefit may occur, all too often it is not the most appropriate
program to enhance the child's development. Only in the larger
districts will there be enough blind students to permit
comprehensive programming and allow equal access to curriculum
and compensatory skill training.

     Unfortunately, we frequently see that students are placed in
special education programs, not by identified need, but by
political and economic considerations. Since this may be the
case, school organizations often see the special education
program as an add-on mandated by law rather than an integral part
of the entire curriculum.

     How does a blindness curriculum fit into this scheme?

     First we must begin with a definition of what a blindness
curriculum really is. We must look at two distinct parts. The
first part is the general school curriculum (reading, writing,
and arithmetic). The second part consists of all the compensatory
skills which allow the student to access the general curriculum
and the direct instruction of the ancillary activities which
sighted students acquire through incidental learning. As students
your children have a right to all of the above to the extent that
their abilities will allow. Excuses of unavailable or untrained
staff cannot be accepted. But at the same time, because of the
unique needs of our children, we must be willing to look at a
variety of service-delivery systems which will meet the need at
any given time in the educational process. Yes, this means public
school placement, itinerant services, resource rooms, and
residential school programs.

     As a common thread running through all of this is the issue
of literacy; and often this means Braille. Here comes my plug for
Braille--watch out. The difficulty in learning Braille comes from
sighted adults who attempt to transpose one reading mode to
another. For blind children we must talk about learning to read
rather than learning to read Braille. The tactual discrimination
required to decipher the raised dots is actually significantly
less than the complex process of making all the fine
discriminations between print letters. Thus Braille is simply the
reading mode for blind people, as print is the mode for sighted
people. Presented in terms of reading curriculum, Braille is no
more difficult than print. Unfortunately as adults and teachers
we tend to send a message to children that Braille is difficult
and that Braille is a last resort if you can't see well enough to
decipher print. Both are very far from the truth.

     There is as wide a variety of Braille readers as print
readers. I would expect that in this room some of you read print
at about sixty to seventy words a minute, and others read at a
speed of 500 words a minute. The same variety will be found among
Braille readers--those who read at fifty words a minute and those
who have the ability to read and comprehend at 300 words a
minute. The point is not so much whether it is print or Braille,
but the function for which the reader is using it.

     I have seen many students who were forced to be print
readers simply because they had remaining sight. These students
labored over print materials using visual aids, electronic
magnifying devices, and other tools only to achieve a rate of
perhaps twenty-five words a minute, and by the time they had
reached the end of the sentence or the paragraph, they had
forgotten what the beginning said. This leads to depressed
comprehension rates, high fatigue, and frustration. The same
student could have been a more fluent reader and would have had
the enjoyment of reading for pleasure if he had been given the
opportunity to read Braille. This is not to say that students
must always choose one or the other.

     Often a student with remaining vision will learn to read
both Braille and print. For it is true, the telephone book is not
printed in Braille, nor is the daily newspaper. So the ability to
use both becomes even more important.

     I have been in the education business for over twenty-five
years now and for that quarter of a century have continued to
hear that Braille is bulky and obsolete and should be eliminated.
In 1973 it was because cassette recorders were popular and books
were being placed upon cassette tape and people could simply
listen to them. Have you ever wanted to re-read a page or chapter
of a book after you have finished a section? Think of the
problems in trying to look in an index of your book (all on
cassette tape), find the appropriate page, and then find that
page someplace in cassette five, track three--a task that is
virtually impossible.

     Today, of course, we hear about the wonders of computer
technology. Computers have been a tremendous asset to educational
programs, but again they will never take the place of Braille.
Using standard CD-Roms we are able to download information and
translate it to Braille. People are able to access computer
programs using speech or refreshable Braille displays. Technology
allows for the optical scanning of print books with voice output.
But these computer programs will still not allow a mother to sit
down with her child and read a book.

     Fundamental to all is a basic definition of reading. Reading
must be thought of as the ability to interact with the written
word mentally and physically. Only when this occurs are
individuals able to create their own meaning and develop concepts
and mental pictures from their reading. A voice on a tape gives
someone else's meaning to the words in a book. A computer voice
program delivers words with no excitement. Only physical reading
allows us to grow in our ability to express ourselves and
ultimately become independent members of society. As parents and
educators we cannot deny this to our children.

     How do sighted children learn to read? Sighted children are
bombarded daily with visual images associated with print images
(actually abstract configurations) which are seen as a whole.
Think of the Burger King and McDonald's signs. Children recognize
the words because of the associated visual images. In early years
there is no actual decoding or encoding of words. As the words
become familiar, they are then generalized to other settings. The
"King" in Burger King is recognized in "King's Department Store"
and so on. When a student enters school, most reading is not done
in reading class but integrated into every activity in which the
student is involved throughout the day, and the teacher is there
to reinforce those pre-reading, reading recognition, and reading
skills. We must not expect anything less for our blind students
who need Braille or print. Reading cannot be taught only two days
a week for forty-five minutes at a time or even daily for just
forty-five minutes if we want our blind children to be
competitive with their peers. Reading of some kind transpires
during each activity that occurs during the day. Thus we must
insure that, as our students progress through their school
programs, they are provided the opportunity to read. And as
parents and educators we must come together to insure that those
people who are instructing our children are qualified to teach
reading using Braille. We would not allow teachers to teach our
sighted children using materials with incorrect spelling and
backward letters, and the same must be true for our Braille-
reading students.

     Classroom teachers are often the most vocal about the
placement of Special Education students in their classrooms, and
perhaps rightly so. We do find many excellent classroom teachers
who are willing to do what they can and to adapt materials and
teaching methodologies to the disabled child in the class, but my
experiences indicate that the majority of teachers are overworked
in their present situations and feel that the addition of a
disabled student in the classroom increases their load (and
frustration) exponentially. With teaching loads today averaging
about thirty students per classroom, the addition of a blind
student with minimal support only increases the chance that the
student will receive fewer services. It is unfortunate that the
regular classroom teacher is usually teaching to the mean,
tending to bypass those at either the upper or lower end of the
spectrum. The addition of the blind student only increases the
variability of an already heterogeneous population. More than one
disabled student in the class (especially if they have differing
handicaps) will only increase the frustration further.

     In my opinion disabled students should be included in
regular classrooms when the curriculums meet the needs of the
students, and the goals have been carefully developed.

     For example, a student should not be mainstreamed into a
Biology class unless the need for Biology exists for that student
and she/he can function in the class with a true minimum of
curricular adaptations. In essence this means that the disabled
student has obtained the prerequisite academic skills to function
independently in that setting. If the student is mainstreamed for
social purposes only, no attempt should be made to grade the
student on content. The viability of learning social skills in a
Biology class, when such skills would be more appropriately
learned in an applied community-based classroom, needs to be
seriously questioned as well.

     Parents, you have the hardest job of all. Depending upon the
state, county, or school district in which you live, many
difficult decisions must be made with regard to Braille and
inclusion. Does inclusion always mean the local school district?
If the most appropriate placement of the child is in another
district or a special school, is the parent willing for the child
to make the long daily trip or accept residential placement in
order to access the greatest education opportunity for the child?
Which will provide the greater benefit, increased time at home or
increased time in an alternative placement? Can one be sacrificed
for the other? Who is benefiting the most, parent or child?

     Within some parameters parents may not have the choice. A
great many states do not require or allow parents to have an
option in placement. (The 1997 amendments to IDEA now insure that
at least parents may participate in the decision-making process
for placement.) Some states like Washington give the final
placement decision to the parents. However, placement may be left
exclusively to the discretion of the multi-disciplinary team. The
team's decision is often tempered by prevailing political
philosophy and is final, unless the due-process procedure is
invoked. Can this be challenged in court? Perhaps so, but few
parents have the resources to do this.

     One story that I like to share is of a fifth grader who
moved from Washington to another state. In Washington, although
he had some useable vision, instruction was primarily in Braille,
and he had been achieving proficiency in that medium. Upon moving
to his new state, during the IEP process the professionals
decided that Johnny should be using print materials, so all
mention of Braille was removed from his IEP. Despite the parents'
repeated requests, the district remained insistent. He had
vision; he would learn print. The parents went through due
process procedures for the inappropriate program. After a lengthy
hearing and much emotional distress, Braille was put back into
the IEP--not as an instructional mode, but for Johnny "to use if
it were available." Upon further investigation, it was discovered
that the teacher was non-proficient in Braille, abacus, and
Nemeth code and therefore had a vested interest in not providing
these services. Parents, be careful. Make informed decisions and
don't settle for just something. Be sure that it meets the needs
of your child.

     One of the best ways to empower blind and visually impaired
individuals is to give them the power of literacy and
independence. Without these we are relegating an entire group of
citizens to second-class status, and I am unwilling to do that.

     Unfortunately, our train departed the station long before
all the tracks were laid and destinations determined for its
passengers. The Inclusionary Express has all too often turned out
to be a single destination for all those who hop on board. While
the engineer's attempt at total integration for all our blind
children should be applauded, in reality quality of life does not
always depend upon total integration. We do not expect a single
destination for all normal children; why should we expect a
single destination for all disabled children?

     In an attempt to streamline the Inclusionary Express, our
state legislatures are now expressing preference for cross-
categorical engineers and dispatchers to lead our children on
their journey. Would we place our trust in a ship's captain to
guide our locomotive safely, or our train dispatcher to operate
as an air traffic controller? I think not. Neither should we
anticipate that teachers untrained in specific handicapping
conditions are competent to lead all of our children to their
proper destinations. While our journey may begin smoothly and
many passengers will disembark properly at their trip's end,
others will be left on the train to wander endlessly and without
purpose over the land.

     Time is fast running out. It is later than we think. Right
now--not next year, not next decade--we need trained educators,
professionals with an even, steady hand on the throttle as well
as on the brake. They will be approaching the most difficult task
ever presented to the teacher, now or during the past century:
the careful preparation of a travel schedule for the blind child
as he begins his journey through life.

     As I end, I would like to share a few final thoughts with
you which I am sure you have heard before. Just think for a
moment, if you will, how powerful the written word can be and
reflect that it lasts forever. Three great treasures come
immediately to mind (there are many more), and none of these is
over 300 words: the Lord's Prayer, the twenty-third Psalm, and
Lincoln's Gettysburg Address. They all go to prove that words,
and to be more specific literacy, have the power to change lives.

     An old proverb says, "Give me a fish, and I eat for a day.
Teach me to fish, and I eat for a lifetime." We must teach our
children to fish. It is up to you as parents and educators to see
to it that these young minds are given every opportunity to
learn, to read, and to succeed. We owe our children nothing less.
                           **********
                           **********
[PHOTO/CAPTION: Susan Ford]
[PHOTO/CAPTION: Ramona Walhof]
                      Braille Reading Speed
              Are You Willing To Do What It Takes?
                 by Susan Ford and Ramona Walhof
                           **********
     From the Editor: Susan Ford and Ramona Walhof are sisters.
As you will read, between them they have a broad range of reading
and Braille-teaching experience. Susan now lives in Missouri and
is an active and contributing Federation leader wherever she
goes. Ramona, of course, is Secretary of the National Federation
of the Blind and President of the NFB of Idaho. This is what they
say:
                           **********
     Many Braille readers have never been encouraged to work to
achieve good speed. Slow reading is a disadvantage throughout
life and causes the reader to under-use and undervalue the
reading skill. But there is no need to continue forever as a slow
reader. Some Braille readers develop a speed of 200 to 400 words
per minute as small children. They will retain that speed with
little or no effort. Braille readers who could not attain good
speed as young children, however, can do so with some work, and
it is certainly worth the effort. It is also desirable for
teachers of blind children to encourage good Braille-reading
speed.

     Susan Ford developed good Braille reading speed as a small
child and retains it; Ramona Walhof had fair speed as a child and
has had to work to improve. Our experiences in reading Braille
and teaching for years have given us some ideas which may help
others in achieving increased speed. Try these suggestions and
talk with other good Braille readers. You should experience
significant improvement.

     Susan has been a rehabilitation teacher and counselor and
worked with hundreds of adult Braille students. Most were
learning Braille from scratch. Some were working to improve their
skill. Some never completed standard Braille, but many have, and
they continued to improve in speed and confidence. Susan has
written drills and exercises for her students to use when they
have experienced problems with certain Braille concepts.

     Ramona's teaching has been largely in training centers. She
has also taught both new Braille readers and those who were
working to improve speed and accuracy. Ramona co-authored
Beginning Braille for Adults in order to assist students to
complete Grade II (standard) Braille more quickly. We both agree
that this book is good for some Braille students but not all.

     1. Avoid all Braille printed on plastic pages. Plastic is
somewhat better than it was when it first appeared, but it will
still discourage good speed. As you develop more speed, it will
seem worse, because your hands will cling to the Braille as they
move faster across the lines. Since Braille continues to become
easier to produce using Braille embossers driven by computers,
using plastic should not be necessary except in rare situations.

     2. Keep your touch light. You can feel the dots better if
your fingers are moving lightly over the lines. To test this
statement, try this: feel the back of one hand with the fingers
of your other hand. Exert some pressure and rub your hand a
little. You will feel bones and veins. Now barely brush your
fingers across the skin. You will feel the texture of the skin
and hairs. These details were hardly noticeable when you pressed
down. The same is true of Braille. You do not want to know what
is underneath the page, but what is on the surface. This requires
a light touch. Many Braille readers are heavy-handed. Experiment
honestly to see whether you are.

     3. Check the position of your hands to insure that you are
using the most sensitive part of your fingertips. Your hands
should be curved so that the second joints of your fingers are
only a little higher than the first joints. Your wrists should
move just above the page. The most sensitive part of your fingers
is just below the tip, but not as far back as the fleshier part
right above the first joint.

     4. You will read best if you follow the lines of Braille
using three fingers on each hand. The middle and third fingers
help to keep your place and increase speed, even though the
forefingers are the primary reading fingers. It is always
important to use both hands, even if one is less sensitive. Keep
both forefingers on the line of Braille. Almost everyone has one
dominant hand in reading, and it is not necessarily the same one
that is dominant in other activities. It is convenient to be able
to use one hand well enough to read while writing using a slate
and stylus with the other. You can then copy brief passages from
what you are reading without taking your hand off the page.
Consider this technique for copying an address or phone number.
You probably don't have much choice about which hand works best,
but you can increase the effectiveness of both hands if you work
at it.

     5. When you read Braille, you want your left hand to read
the beginning of the line and your right hand to read the end.
The best readers bring their forefingers together somewhere in
the middle of the line, letting the right hand finish while the
left hand returns to the left margin to locate and begin the new
line. This process increases speed because you no longer have to
pause to locate the new line. Your dominant hand will read a
larger part of the line, but the two hands read independently,
and your brain puts the words in correct order. If you have been
a one-handed reader, your first step is to make your weaker hand
follow the other one until it begins to help with the work. Make
the hand you are trying to strengthen read at least one word at
the beginning or end of the line. As you become more adept at
this, what at first seemed to slow you down will help increase
your speed. When you experience success at making your slow hand
read one word, begin to require it to carry more of the load. If
one hand is truly disabled, you can still read Braille well
enough to make it valuable. If one hand is merely less sensitive
than the other, make the weaker hand work, and it will get more
efficient.

     6. In some ways improving Braille-reading speed is much like
improving speed reading print. We recommend that you first learn
to skim. Learn to gather the sense of a passage by reading the
first lines of short paragraphs and the first and last lines of
slightly longer ones. If the paragraph is quite long, read a few
middle lines as well.

     If you are reading conversation, skip or de-emphasize the
"he said," "she asked," "I explained" phrases. Don't try to skip
these in the middle of a line, but when they appear at the
beginning or end and you are not reading aloud, they are
unnecessary. You will know the content, and skipping unnecessary
words is another way to permit your reading speed to increase
slightly. This is part of learning to skim rather than actually
increasing verbatim reading speed. If you expect to cover the
material faster, your hands and mind will learn to work together.
All this helps your speed. Several such techniques can add up to
quite an improvement. You will learn not to break the steady
movement of your hands as you concentrate on what matters in what
you read.

     7. Develop a sight vocabulary in Braille. This idea is
especially helpful if you have just completed learning Grade II
Braille and need to build confidence in your knowledge of
contracted words. You can carry a packet of three-by-five index
cards with frequently used words or phrases on each. The earliest
ones you make should be no more than four symbols. With practice
you will begin to recognize the short words immediately. You can
also recognize these letter combinations as parts of longer ones.
Example: the word "and" also appears in the words "strand,"
"band," and "land," and so on. The word "honest" appears at the
beginning of "honestly" and at the end of "dishonest." As you
recognize sight vocabulary words more quickly, the longer words
which contain them will come more quickly as well. When a group
of twenty cards or so becomes familiar, exchange them for another
set. Carry them in your notebook or purse; study them on the way
to work or school; and make new ones when they wear out.

     8. Set achievable goals for improvement. Determine how much
you read every day. Be truthful with yourself, even if you are
only reading a paragraph a day. Set as your first goal to double
this amount or to increase it by 50 percent. Be absolutely
faithful to your daily commitment to read Braille. When you feel
comfortable reading this new amount, increase it again and make
that your new goal.

     Be sure to read every single day. Remember, it does not hurt
to read more than the minimum you have set. If one day you don't
meet your commitment to yourself, don't worry about it. Stress
causes burn-out. Just begin where you left off and continue
achieving the same goal each day.

     9. Begin with very short passages. It does not take long to
be able to read a selection of three or four pages in one
sitting. It feels wonderful when you can say that you have read a
whole story. Such success encourages other attempts. You need not
read material written at your intellectual level. Many of us like
to read children's stories. You can easily find short articles
from magazines.

     10. Make Braille convenient for yourself. Keep a Braille
book beside your bed, and tell people you have learned to read in
the dark. Leave a book or magazine near your favorite easy chair.
Carry a small magazine with you. Immerse yourself in this
exposure to Braille. Keep a Braille calendar in your pocket or
purse. Begin an address and phone file. Make recipes in Braille.
Ask your friends if they can show you what crossword puzzles look
like in Braille or how to do cryptograms, etc. Try to make
Braille available to yourself in the many ways that print is
available to your sighted friends. The more you see it and find
it wherever you put your hands, the more you will read it.
Reading Braille--as much and as often as possible--is certainly
the most important thing you can do to increase your reading
speed. Read, read, read!

     11. One of the more effective ways to improve Braille skill
is to read along with someone else. A tape recorder will do. The
aural reading should be just a little faster than yours. Make
yourself keep up. Reread the passage. The second time you will be
familiar with the material. Your speed should increase. Keep at
it till you are comfortable with the faster speed. Read something
onto a tape yourself. Compete with yourself, each time trying to
beat the original speed of your recording.

     12. Subscribe to at least one Braille magazine that you
enjoy. Read short articles, and then reread them more than twice,
trying to read faster each time. Do not memorize. As the text
becomes familiar, you will read much more rapidly. Be sure to
read aloud sometimes to be sure that you are not skipping when
you know the material well.

     13. As you begin to see improvement in your speed, continue
spending the same amount of time reading or doing even more.
Reading faster will permit you to cover more material in the same
amount of time. In school children read many hours a day while
learning to read. As adults we expect to spend just a few minutes
and accomplish as much. In the beginning at least it won't
happen. You must commit time in order to see significant
improvement.

     14. Avoid bad habits. Many Braille readers have developed
the bad habit of double-checking frequently in order to catch
mistakes. It is important to keep your hands moving steadily
forward with very little checking back. Avoid rubbing the Braille
as you read it. Reading with someone who reads just a little
faster keeps you from looking back. If you do, you will get
behind. It is true that reading Braille requires movement, but
the movement should be mostly forward, not up and down or
backwards. If you move your hands up and down, you may move from
one line to another without realizing it.

     You can read together with someone else who is working to
improve his or her speed. You can even do this on the telephone.
If you respond to competition, challenge someone to compete with
you. Occasional timings are helpful, but only to determine if
your reading speed increases. Don't overdo it. Instead of words
per minute, it might be more helpful to measure pages per hour or
per week. When you have something to read in Braille, complete it
in that medium. Don't cheat and finish it on tape.

     15. Take some responsibility using Braille. For instance,
make a report from Braille notes. Give a speech using Braille
cards. Make a report about something you have read in Braille.
NFB Kernel Books are filled with short and easy articles, which
may also provide motivation for improving this skill.

     In this article we have not discussed writing. Whether you
write with a Braille writer or with the slate and stylus, your
writing skill will reinforce your reading skill. Much more could
be said about writing--maybe another article some day.

     We would love to tell you more about some of the wonderful
students we have had. You would find their progress interesting
and challenging. When you see us, don't hesitate to ask us about
them. There isn't space or time to tell all their stories here.

     Get excited about Braille. It is fun to be literate. It is
normal to be able to read at your own convenience and do it with
facility. Don't deny yourself that convenience and pleasure any
longer. Believe in yourself and believe in Braille. Remember that
many adults have learned Braille from scratch and attained good
speed. It is worth the effort, and you are not too old, too
stupid, or too lazy. Try it; you'll like it!
                           **********
                           **********
[PHOTO DESCRIPTION: Picture shows a woman sitting in a rocking
chair reading Braille. CAPTION: Barbara Pierce]
                Reflections of a Braille Student
                        by Barbara Pierce
                           **********
     Reading the preceding article reminded me irresistibly of
one of the most interesting and valuable parts of my ten-year
working relationship with Doctor Jernigan: the hours of Braille-
reading demonstration and discussion. He often commented that he
intended to write a Monitor article reporting on what he had
learned about reading Braille from our work together. Sadly, he
didn't have time to carry out his intention, so it seems to me
appropriate that I should try my hand at reporting our
discoveries, both hopeful and discouraging.

     To begin, I must briefly describe my reading history. I
attended public school because my parents wanted me to live at
home and because the local school was willing to enroll me since
I could see the type in the first-grade primer. No one, I think,
fully appreciated just how limited my vision was at the time. I
was quick to catch on to letter shapes and sounds, and since most
of the early work was producing the correct sound when a letter
was identified, I did pretty well at sounding out the words. All
the children were dealing with the words letter by letter, so I
was at no disadvantage. From the first I was one of the top
readers.

     Then three things began to change. The print grew smaller;
the amount of text on the page grew larger; and the other
children got the hang of what we were doing. My superiority
melted away until by the third grade I was acknowledged by the
whole class to be one of the dumb kids. I don't know how rapidly
my vision was deteriorating, but by sixth grade I could no longer
read the print in my books, even with extreme magnification. Not
until a few years ago did I grasp the full catastrophe that was
overtaking me during these elementary school years.

     By the time I had completed sixth and seventh grades without
ever reading a word myself, the powers that be decided that
Braille was going to be necessary to my further education.
Arrangements were made for me to receive an hour of Braille
instruction every week at the Pittsburgh Association for the
Blind during the summer before eighth grade. Memorizing the code
was simple; determining which dots were present in each symbol
was a different matter altogether. My teacher, a blind woman,
seemed to be able to tell the difference between a capital A and
an st sign; she was never fooled into reading the beginning of
the word "beautiful" as "bunder." But despite all this skill she
was not a proficient Braille reader. She did not read quickly or
fluently. She assured me almost every week that, if I could only
hear her husband read, I would understand how effective a tool
Braille could be. But I never met the man, and I don't think I
ever truly believed her.

     I was encouraged to read Braille during high school, and to
that end I was given my physics text--all nine or so volumes of
it--in Braille and told to use it. What a joke. I now realize
that it was filled with equations in Nemeth code, but even
without that impediment to comprehension, I would have had a hard
time decoding such a complex text.

     I did understand, however, that in college I would have to
use Braille to take notes, so I laboriously took class notes
throughout high school using my slate and stylus and Braille
paper heavier than anything one can buy today. I built up
calluses on my right hand and muscles in my right arm but no
speed in Braille writing. Still I was reinforcing my mastery of
the code even if I was making errors in placing dots where I
intended them to go.

     When I entered college, I quickly decided that there was no
way that I could take Braille notes for hours together using
paper as heavy as that I had been using in high school. I bought
spiral notebooks for each course and discovered the relative
emancipation of having my stylus fly across the page of light-
weight paper.

     For four years I used Braille every day and depended upon it
completely, but my own writing was almost the only Braille I
read. I married three months after college graduation, and though
I continued to use Braille, it was not in the same intense way.
Now it was recipes, phone numbers, grocery lists, and odd notes
to myself. I had slid into all sorts of personal abbreviations
and shortcuts which, coupled with my rather unreliable spelling,
made my Braille incomprehensible to everyone, including me after
a few days.

     When I returned to work full time in 1981, I found myself
again depending on Braille regularly, but my own notes were still
the only thing I was consistently reading. Then, in October of
1988, I came to work for the NFB as Associate Editor of the
Braille Monitor. I admitted to myself that I had put off making a
serious attempt to learn to use Braille about as long as I could.
I remember asking Dr. Jernigan if he thought I had any chance of
actually increasing my reading speed. His response was immediate
and positive: "Of course you can if you are prepared to work at
it." I was not afraid of work, and I was afraid both of
disappointing Dr. Jernigan's expectations of me and of standing
up to make a state convention banquet address as a national
representative and losing my place in my Braille notes. Clearly I
was ready to begin playing catch-up.

     I began asking all the good Braille readers I knew what
suggestions they could give me. Their advice was simple--read--
read every day, and read high-interest material. Compared to that
physics book in high school, this sounded like great advice.

     I began by setting a daily goal of reading at least five
pages. It took an hour. My rule was that I could read more than
my goal, but if I fell short, I had to make up the pages the next
day. Reading ahead did not count against future lapses. Whenever
I came to the National Center, which was every other week in
those early years, Dr. Jernigan invariably inquired how the
reading was going. I could always assure him with a clear
conscience that I was reading every day and that I was pretty
sure my speed was increasing. I did not often time myself, but I
was confident that a page was taking less time to get through.
When it became clear to Dr. Jernigan that I was serious about
Braille, he offered to work with me to make sure I was using my
hands the way he did.

     I had begun my life as a Braille reader with my left hand
dominant; in fact my right hand was pretty unreliable. Then in
1978 I tried to put my left index finger through a food
processor. Manufacturers have changed the design to make such
experiments much less likely. But the result of my adventure was
to put an end to Braille reading altogether with my left hand for
several years until the nerves regenerated. During that time I
was forced to use the right hand to read. By the time Dr.
Jernigan took charge of me, my hands were about equally able to
decode the dots. I am living proof that it is possible to train
the less perceptive hand, but I trust that others can find less
dramatic methods of getting the job done.

     Dr. Jernigan began by having me place my hands on top of
his. Together we discovered that his left hand stayed fairly well
anchored along the left margin of the page. The index finger
moved to the right, sometimes reaching as far as a third of the
way across the line. But his middle and ring fingers provided an
anchor. When he strolled around a room reading Braille, it was
the strength of this left hand that held the document in place
against his body.

     The index, middle, and ring fingers of his right hand were
responsible for the right-hand two-thirds of each line. The ring
and middle fingers slid along the gutter between the line being
read and the one above. At first Dr. Jernigan told me that their
job was to keep his place on the line so that the index finger
could follow along confident that it was reading the correct line
of text. The left index finger began the line, and the right hand
took over a few words into it. As he finished reading the line
with his right hand, the left index finger was retracing its way
to the left margin and down to the next line, where it began
reading even before the right hand had completed its work. My
hands over his confirmed that he was actually reading both lines
simultaneously. This discovery was both thrilling and depressing.
I could not imagine--and still can't--how he read two things at
the same time, but I am convinced that he did because his one-
handed reading was distinctly slower.

     One day he came to me and announced that the evening before
he had discovered that more was going on with those two lead
fingers on his right hand than he had thought. They were not just
keeping his place in the gutter above the line; they were
actually doing preliminary letter identification. He picked up a
Braille page and showed me what he meant. His ring and middle
fingers were actually gathering information about the tops of the
characters that were about to be read: dots in positions one and
four might be mostly present or they were completely absent in a
cell close to the end of a word, suggesting a two-cell suffix, or
perhaps single dots were present at the tops of cells, which
probably meant that vowels were present. I was highly skeptical
until he began reading aloud first with all three fingers at work
and then with only his right index finger on the page. The
reading became jerky and less fluent. He was surprised by this
discovery; I was astonished. Here was even more evidence of his
brain's ability to accomplish several kinds of decoding
simultaneously. After that discovery he would often interrupt his
proofreading aloud to remark on some nuance of word structure
that his lead fingers had distinguished and prepared for. He
completely convinced me of the accuracy of his reporting, but I
am still utterly unable to do it myself.

     I am afraid that in some ways my Braille reading
disappointed Dr. Jernigan. He believed that with steady
application of time and effort I could become a rapid Braille
reader in a few months or years. That did not happen.

     I have come to understand just how much I lost by not
receiving Braille instruction as a young child. Despite the best
efforts of my parents and teachers, I was never able to do more
than read print letter by letter. My vision never allowed me to
glimpse the shape of words or intuit what a word might be from a
glance at a few letters. My recognition vocabulary in print was
sharply constricted by the ending of my reading career in about
the fourth grade. For the next thirty-five years my own Braille
shorthand was almost entirely the only reading I did for myself.
In this way I gave myself no chance to make up my deficit.

     Looking back, I now see, as neither Dr. Jernigan nor I
recognized when we began, that, before I could achieve any real
speed in reading Braille, I had to learn to read. Even today I
come upon phrases like poring over a book or the horse's gait and
do a double-take at words I have used for years and never seen
spelled correctly. All this makes reading an enchanting
adventure, but a slowly developing one.

     Am I discouraged? Sometimes. I would have liked to respond
more rapidly to Dr. Jernigan's coaching. Am I frustrated at
having to learn these skills as an adult already set in my
neurological ways? You bet I am! Do I regret the time I have
invested in my effort at remediation? Not one second of it. My
life is richer and my literacy more complete for reading Jane
Austen carefully and thoughtfully. And though I still have to
read a text several times through if I want to read it in public,
my reading speed is easily three or four times as fast as it was
when I started this adventure.

     I count myself deeply lucky to have had Dr. Jernigan as my
reading teacher. But long before he took me in hand, he was
inspiring me with his wonderful reading. Scanners and computers
and new gadgets for portable access to electronic text
notwithstanding, curling up with a book in front of a fire,
delivering a speech from a Braille text, or reading a recipe to a
friend over the phone are pleasures I would never have known if I
hadn't decided to do something about my misspent youth and if Dr.
Jernigan hadn't decided to take apart his own reading technique
in order to help me.

     My experience teaches me that anyone with intact nerve
endings in the fingers, fairly steady hands, the capacity to
learn new things, and the determination to try something
challenging can improve at reading Braille. I am also convinced
that it is little short of criminal to keep visually impaired
children from learning Braille at a time when they can do it so
much more effectively than they would later in life. If you have
not dipped a toe--or more accurately a finger--into this
particular body of water, I invite you to try it; the water is
fine. If you have influence on a child who is likely someday to
need Braille, do what you can to see that the instruction begins
now. Would you prefer to have Dr. Jernigan's reading skill or
mine as the model to be followed? That is the question.
                           **********
                           **********
                           **********
     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 or your spouse or loved ones income for
life 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/CAPTION: Dr. William Rowland]
              Garden of Knowledge, Garden of Beauty
                  by William P. Rowland, Ph.D.
                           **********
     From the Editor: William Rowland is Executive Director of
The South African National Council for the Blind and Second Vice
President of the World Blind Union. When Dr. Maurer was in South
Africa recently for a meeting, Dr. Rowland gave him a copy of the
following article about the importance of Braille to the people
who use it every day. Here it is:
                           **********
     At a party one evening I was drawn aside by an old school
friend. The Intelligence Service had recently recruited several
blind workers, and she was one of them. "I think you should know
I'm being asked to read your letters" was all she said. That was
the old South Africa, where even Braille mail did not escape
surveillance.

     To me personally Braille has always meant more than
information on paper. That first shy love letter from a girl in
class, my very first library book, my first spelling test with
that cross-patch teacher--these are the memories that crowd into
my mind as I write these lines. When I was a boy, I kept a dream
diary and still today I can recall some of the nightmare images--
flames all around me in a burning house, a leopard chasing our
car as it careers down a hill. I would not have remembered these
things if I had not written them down in Braille.

     When many years ago I went on my first journey for the South
African National Council for the Blind, halfway across the world,
it was an exciting time, but also a lonely time. I had no money
for phone calls, and contact with my family was limited to
seamail. Then one day in New York a colleague handed me a letter
from Helene, my wife, written in our quiet home above Cape Town
with our five-year-old son Frankie at her elbow, making a
thorough nuisance of himself and also wanting to send a message.
Even today I treasure that little scroll of Braille.

     Over the years I have developed a system of personal Braille
to write concise notes on small bits of paper. I take a single
sign or a couple of letters to stand for a concept or even a
string of words which I like to use. Sometimes at meetings, when
I am asked for a copy of my speech, and as something of a joke, I
hand in these notes, much to the consternation of secretaries.
The equivalent of scribbling, I suppose, but it is a tool I would
recommend to blind students and professionals. In this way a
great deal can be written with a simple pocket frame [slate].

     At the South African National Council for the Blind (SANCB),
where I am employed, I take pleasure from the many Braille
letters that reach me from all over Africa. Written on newspaper,
wrapping paper, and waste paper of every imaginable description,
they are without exception expressive of the longing for
education, for work, for a place in the world. Written in
poverty, they are rich in trust and hope. How guilty I often feel
about the negligible answers I can supply, but I do always reply.
Sometimes, though, the requests do bring a smile: "Please send me
an airticket to France by next Friday, if possible." Or "I am a
Christian boy from Malawi and would like to correspond with a
beautiful young girl in South Africa."

     One of the best things we ever did at my organization was to
create a Braille youth magazine. It covers music, sport,
politics, health, and much besides and is extremely popular. But
what I enjoy most is the letter column, always crammed full. Once
our young readers get going on an issue, they do not let up: the
debate about whether a blind man should marry a blind woman went
on for months until the exasperated editor had to plead with
readers please to change the topic. One of the final
contributions came from a teenage girl with a different
perspective: she wondered, in fact, whether a blind woman ought
to marry a blind man.

     Yes, what would we do without Braille? How would we learn or
work? Without it would we have our own organizations? Would there
be a World Blind Union? Would we even care about blind people of
other cultures? In my opinion a world without Braille would be a
silent world, a world without communication. We should never
cease to promote it and to pay homage to our patron sage, Louis
Braille.

     Once I wrote a poem in which I compared the sound of the
fingers on a Braille page to a rustling garden. A garden indeed--
a garden of knowledge, a garden of beauty.
                           **********
                           **********
[PHOTO/CAPTION: Anna Miller]
                      The Miracle of Dallas
                         by Sally Miller
                           **********
     From the Editor: Sally Miller is President of the South
Carolina Parents of Blind Children division. She was elected to
the Board of Directors of the National Organization of Parents of
Blind Children at its Annual Meeting in Dallas in 1998. It was
her first National Federation of the Blind Convention. With her
energy and organizational skills she made quite an impression on
her fellow parents. The NFB Convention also made quite an
impression on her. What follows is the report she made to the
1998 NFB of South Carolina Convention about her experience in
Dallas and what it did for her and her daughter Anna. It is
reprinted from the Spring, 1999, issue of Future Reflections, the
quarterly publication of the National Organization of Parents of
Blind Children. Here it is:
                           **********
     I'm glad to have the opportunity to tell you about our first
NFB National Convention experience and about the work of the
Parents of Blind Children of South Carolina (POBC of South
Carolina). When our family attended the State NFB Convention last
year in Charleston (where we live) we didn't know much about the
POBC or the NFB. My husband and I were asked to speak during the
Parents Division meeting; we were to tell "Anna's Story." Little
did we know that this experience would change our lives!

     Our daughter Anna, who just turned ten, is adopted. She was
born into a family that wasn't equipped to deal with the fact
that she was blind. Her biological family equated blindness with
mental retardation. In the birth mother's words, "She's blind.
She can't learn." Early intervention would have been helpful in
teaching Anna the basic skills all children need to develop, but
because her family believed she couldn't learn, attempts to help
Anna were repeatedly shunned. Anna wasn't stimulated in any way.
She was taught nothing. There were no expectations for her life.

     Anna came to live with us as a foster child when she was
four, and we adopted her a year and a half later. She still wore
diapers, had intestinal parasites, had lice in her hair, and did
not speak. We didn't know whether she could hear or if she would
ever talk. She banged her head constantly on concrete, doors,
walls--anything hard. She laughed away the pain. She was existing
in a world she had created inside her head and was shutting out
the rest of the world.

     But we believed that any child smart enough to find an
internal life to live when she had been given nothing else must
have intelligence and potential--it just needed to be set free.
We held her, sang to her, rocked her, and loved her. She
eventually came out of the cocoon she'd wound around herself.
She's learned to accept love, to give love, to have fun, and even
to work (although that's not one of her favorite things). The
baby who couldn't learn did learn, is learning, and will continue
to learn and develop.

     Anna talks, initiates conversations, and teases her Daddy
and her big brothers. Our boys, ages twenty-three and eighteen,
have taught their little sister all the important things about
life that big brothers teach little sisters, like how to make
really disgusting bodily noises. The latest one is how to burp
louder than anyone else.

     Anna's learned what emotions are and that she can have an
opinion and isn't afraid to express hers. She's learning Braille
and uses a white cane. She's taken gymnastics lessons, horseback
riding lessons, and adaptive swimming lessons. She roller-skates,
rides her bike, and has wonderful audience skills, which she
employs at concerts and other programs. She helps me cook, and
she goes to summer camps. This is the child who couldn't learn
because she was blind.

     Anna and I were recently interviewed for a magazine article,
and pictures were taken of us looking at the photo album I
created for and about her. When Anna was asked what her favorite
part of the book was she replied without hesitation "The part
where we went to court to see the judge, and she told me that I'm
Anna Catherine Miller, and I could throw away my old name." This
is the child who couldn't learn because she was blind!

     In our search for answers to our many questions about
raising a blind child, we found the NFB. At the State Convention
last year I was elected President of the POBC of South Carolina.
When I was nominated, I almost fell off my chair. When it was
seconded and voted upon, I was numb. I was so rattled I could
hardly stand to acknowledge the faith they were putting in me.
With a smile on his face my husband commented, "I guess I'll have
to call you `Madam President' now."

     For the first few weeks after the NFB of South Carolina
State Convention I walked around in a daze, asking, "Why me? I
don't have the answers to the questions parents are going to ask
me. I barely know anything about the NFB. How can I help others
when I sometimes don't know how to help my own daughter?" And
then it hit me. I could do this. I had lots of questions, but who
better to ask questions of than the people who know the most
about blindness--the blind people of the NFB?

     My attitude began to change. I'm a mother and an educator.
I'm not afraid to ask questions, do research, or any of the
thousand and one tasks that would be necessary to do this job. My
biggest asset is that I love my child, and I want the best for
her, like every other parent.

     I've learned so much, yet I have so much more to learn. I've
talked to a lot of people, and I still have more to meet. I've
asked questions, and there are that many more again to ask. I
like the NFB and the POBC, and I have come to like my role in
making the connections that will give our children the
information, the respect, and the opportunities they deserve. The
person for whom I do this, my daughter Anna, has had her life
changed. Everything I do has an impact on her life, and
ultimately she's the winner.

     In July Anna and I had a great adventure. We attended the
NFB National Convention in Dallas, Texas. It was our first
National Convention, but it won't be the last. We were
overwhelmed by the experience. We met parents, grandparents, and
children from all over the U.S. and from other countries. We got
to talk with them, play with them, and learn about their
successes.

     However, Anna was upset when we first arrived at the hotel
in Dallas because there were so many white canes bumping into
her. But the kind people with those canes took the time and
effort to stop and talk with her a few minutes. They reassured
her that it was okay to bump into other canes and people. They
were blind too. All she needed to do was say, "Excuse me," and go
on her way. By the second day Anna decided she could be
independent too, just like her new friends. I was pulling a
luggage cart with my purse and briefcase. Anna stopped in the
hotel lobby and said: "Mommy, I want to do it by myself. I want
to use my cane and pull the cart. I want to do it by myself!" And
she did. She let me give her verbal directions, and I stayed
close in case she needed me, but for the most part she did it by
herself. This was the child who couldn't learn because she was
blind.

     Everyone who's seen Anna since our return has commented on
the fact that she carries herself differently and that she has
matured in that short time. Her self-confidence has soared. She
wants to use her cane on her own although she still wants verbal
directions sometimes. And she's speaking up louder and more
frequently. Before the NFB National Convention Anna had her life
categorized as 1) before adoption and 2) after adoption. Now
she's making another distinction: 1) before National Convention
and 2) after National Convention.

     Anna also had the opportunity to shine during the convention
when the NFB Camp kids went to a ranch. Anna has been taking
riding lessons for four years with Charleston Area Therapeutic
Riding. She used her skills to show other children how to ride
horses. It was a good experience for her because she got the
chance to show the things she can do. This is the child who
couldn't learn because she was blind.

     Last week Anna informed us that she wanted to get her hair
cut short. She has been wearing it very long. When I asked her
why, she said, "So I can take care of it myself." Wow! This is
the baby who couldn't learn because she was blind.

     I could go on and on telling you of the experiences Anna
had, but I want to tell you what happened to me too. A year ago I
knew very little about the NFB and nothing about the Parents
Division. So I was stunned when I was elected president of the
POBC of South Carolina. It took me months to recover enough from
the shock of it to start reading and learning about the
Federation and its philosophy. I thought I was getting it down
pretty well, but I still wasn't prepared for the NFB National
Convention experience. In my wildest dreams I could not have
thought it possible to be in a situation in which there was so
much live energy. The attitude of Federationists toward
themselves and others--the sheer power it exerted--swept me off
my feet. Dr. Jernigan said, "My generation of blind adults must
work to help today's blind children . . . have better
opportunities than we had when we were growing up." I saw these
words in action at the convention.

     Among the many workshops I attended was the IEP workshop,
where we parents discussed the new IDEA regulations. We viewed
some of the videotapes in a series called "How to Avoid an IEP
Disaster," which is put out by the NOPBC. (It's great, by the
way.) We also had the privilege of hearing from some great
parents and educators and were able to ask questions of them. By
the way, more teachers are embracing the philosophy of the NFB,
and we need to foster this so that we can continue to find common
ground with them to work together for our children.

     I now know how working on behalf of the children to improve
their education has helped to dispel the myths of blindness. At
the NFB Convention I saw the difference in every generation. I
saw it in the young adults with their families (raising both
blind and sighted children), being rooted in the philosophy
themselves and teaching it to their little ones. It was a joy to
watch the college-age students, poised, confident, filled with
self-esteem, and sure of where they were going and how they were
going to get there. And the teens were delightfully full of
themselves. There was no groping with their hands, for they used
their white canes. They didn't have to have someone reading to
them, because they were reading Braille. And the younger
children, like my daughter Anna, were learning about blindness
from the real experts--the blind adults of the NFB--experts who
valued them and who were helping them to understand that being
blind is okay.

     The National Convention was a turning point in our lives. I
saw the results of those years of effort for myself in Dallas. It
happened for my daughter. I know it works.

     It's hard for parents always to know what is the right thing
to do for their blind child. They need help from the day the baby
is born. The school-age children and their parents desperately
need us right now. They need to know that we are here for them.
To find the children and their parents, to educate and surround
them in the right attitude and understanding of blindness is a
tall order. But look at the difference the NFB has made in the
life of one child, my daughter Anna--the child who couldn't learn
because she was born blind. I wish every blind child could have
the same chance Anna's had. I want as many blind children as
possible from South Carolina to attend the National and the State
NFB Conventions with their families next year. It takes a lot of
money, but speaking from personal experience, it's worth it.

     Because of the NFB Convention Anna has matured a few
notches, and I have caught the commitment that goes with the
attitude and understanding.

     The outstanding work Federationists have done to prepare the
way for a younger generation was breathtakingly obvious and
beautiful in Dallas. For more than fifty years you've
successfully advocated for the blind, all the blind, including
the children. It's because of your commitment that I am here
today as a member of the POBC of South Carolina, a partner in
this exciting mission.
                           **********
                           **********
[PHOTO DESCRIPT: Two men, tied together, are falling through
space at a great rate of speed. CAPTION: Tom Hicks (below) in
freefall with his jump master.]
                     Skydiving Over Kapowsin
                          by Tom Hicks
                           **********
     From the Editor: Tom Hicks is a fairly new member of the
National Federation of the Blind, but already he has become a
leader in the NFB of Washington. By the time you read this
article, Tom will have moved to Arizona to take a new job.
Washington Federationists are deeply saddened to see him go but
feel quite confident that he will become a valuable member of the
Arizona affiliate. This is what he says:
                           **********
     On December 6, 1998, I set out to experience my first tandem
skydive. This was a present to myself for recently earning my
master's degree in organizational leadership. I wanted to
celebrate it with an unforgettable event. Jumping from airplanes
was not new to me. I was an Army-trained basic paratrooper and
have thirteen high-performance, aircraft static-line jumps under
my belt. Still, I had always heard that skydiving and static line
jumping are not the same. I now know why. I would like to share
my high-altitude experience with you.

     I am legally blind and have a progressive eye disease known
as retinitis pigmentosa (RP). My sight is extremely impaired. I
am photophobic and have tunnel vision. In other words, seeing is
not easy for me in most conditions. I am told that one day I will
most likely become totally blind. I take this reality very
seriously, but I do not let it dominate my thoughts or destroy my
hopes and dreams. I may be losing my sight, but I remain a man of
great vision. Besides, a life without challenges is a life not
worth living.

     After listening to a mandatory safety and disclaimer video
on the hazards and joys of sports parachuting, I signed the
necessary documents--in essence, signing my life away should
anything go wrong. I met my jump master, Luke, who helped me get
into my jump suit and harness. He then gave me a fifteen-minute
block of instruction on my actions in the aircraft and air. I
listened very closely and rehearsed the tandem responsibilities
in my head. A tandem jump is one in which one is connected to the
harness and parachute of a certified jump master. Luke had over
5,000 jumps, of which 1,000 were tandem. I sensed he was
extremely confident and capable. This made me feel comfortable.
After all, I was trusting him with my life.

     As we walked from the hanger to the aircraft, I could hear
three of my five children, Tommy, Mark, and Ruth, yelling, "Bye
Dad." They were indifferent to the potential danger of my
situation and at ease because I was not showing any signs of
fear. Luke and I were the first to board the small aircraft. The
smell of jet fuel filled the air. The skies were cloudy, and the
air was a crisp forty-two degrees at Kapowsin Airfield. The
sights, sounds, and smells reminded me of my past military
parachuting experiences.

     During this jump I wasn't alone. Ten of us were packed like
sardines in the tiny aircraft. I heard several skydivers joking
and laughing as the plane rolled down the airstrip and lifted off
into the skies over Kapowsin. I wasn't nervous; however, I was
respectful of the situation. I wasn't sure what to expect. I was
excited and at this point totally committed.

     As the plane climbed higher and higher, I kept thinking "Is
this really happening to me?" It seemed like an out-of-body
experience, and I was somehow just along for the ride. In the
aircraft Luke went over what we had rehearsed on the ground.
Next, Luke hooked me up to his harness as I mentally readied
myself to jump. I strapped on my helmet, pulled my goggles over
my eyes, put on my gloves, and gave Luke a thumbs up. The plane
leveled off at 13,600 feet, and the exit door opened. The air was
cold and roared like a lion. Luke and I were hunched over as we
waddled, connected to each other, toward the exit door. I gripped
my shoulder harness and leaned my head on my right shoulder while
simultaneously standing crouched in the exit door, awaiting
Luke's command to jump. As I stared out the exit door at the
passing clouds and barely visible ground, the air roared in my
ears. Suddenly, we leaped out the door into the wild blue yonder,
arching our backs while Luke deployed a tiny drag chute to help
stabilize our rate of descent. The freezing cold air rushed past
us at 120 mph (terminal velocity) as we tumbled toward earth for
sixty seconds of free-fall fun. My elbows and arms floated
perpendicular to my body and acted like wings as we glided
through the sky. I gasped for air at first but then relaxed and
was able to breathe normally. I kept thinking, "This is so cool!"
Luke and I steered our bodies toward the cameraman, Andy, who
snapped pictures and videotaped the entire experience. What an
adrenaline rush! Next I felt Luke tap my right shoulder, a signal
we had rehearsed on the ground, to let me know he was about to
deploy our main parachute. I quickly grabbed my shoulder straps
just before the chute opened up. Imagine going from 120 mph to
about 10 mph: it was like someone unexpectedly slamming on the
brakes in a fast-moving vehicle. Instantly we were jerked to a
slow rate of descent. The roar of the air became quiet and
peaceful. We dangled together under our full canopy at 2,500
feet, enjoying the panoramic view of Kapowsin below. Luke handed
me the toggles and let me steer the chute as we spiraled toward
the drop zone. What a ride! I thanked Luke over and over for the
thrilling experience. But it wasn't over yet. We practiced
landing actions and commands in the air prior to our landing. As
we approached the drop zone, we let up completely on the toggles.
This action seemed to increase our forward speed, then at just
the right moment Luke yelled, "Flare!" Together we pulled the
toggles down behind our hips, and I lifted my legs up toward my
chest. This action forced the chute to dip down behind our backs,
slowing us down. Before I knew it, we had landed safely on the
ground, but not before performing an unexpected face plant.
Fortunately nobody got hurt, and we stood up and shook hands.
Andy asked, "How was it?"

     I replied, "It was awesome!" What a day; what a ride; what a
thrill!

     Blindness is no excuse to stop living one's life. I won't
let it do that to me. This experience has taught me to try new
things and challenge myself. I am so glad I was able to
experience the joys of tandem skydiving. It has somehow changed
me in a fresh and positive way. No matter what you undertake in
life, push yourself to the limit. Life's challenges are what
living is all about. Airborne!
                           **********
                           **********
[PHOTO/CAPTION: Deborah Kent Stein]
                 More to Life Than Meets the Eye
                      by Deborah Kent Stein
                           **********
     From the Editor: Some months ago a book was published
including a chapter written by novelist and First Vice President
of the NFB of Illinois Debbie Kent Stein. Several newspaper
editors in England contacted her to request permission to print
versions of that chapter as articles in their publications. The
most accurate of these appeared in the March 27, 1999, edition of
the London Times. Debbie deals clearly and honestly with one of
the most difficult issues many blind people thinking about
parenthood have to face. This is what she says:
                           **********
     When I was only a few weeks old, my mother realized that I
could not see. For the next eight months she and my father went
from doctor to doctor searching for answers. At last a leading
eye specialist confirmed everything they had already heard by
then--my blindness was complete, irreversible, and of unknown
origin. He also gave them some sound advice: they should help me
lead the fullest life possible.

     Fortunately for me this prescription matched their best
instincts. As I was growing up, people called my parents
"wonderful." They were praised for raising me "like a normal
child." As far as I could tell, my parents were like most of the
others in our neighborhood--sometimes wonderful and sometimes
annoying. And from my point of view I was not like a normal
child--I was normal. From the beginning I learnt to deal with the
world as a blind person. I did not long for sight any more than I
yearned for a pair of wings. Blindness presented occasional
complications, but it seldom kept me from anything I wanted to
do.

     For me blindness was part of the background music that
accompanied my life. I had been hearing it since I was born and
paid it little attention. But others had a way of cranking up the
volume. Their discomfort, doubts, and concerns often put
blindness at the top of the program.

     Since one of my younger brothers is also blind, it seemed
more than likely that my unknown eye condition had a genetic
basis. I never thought much about it until my husband Dick and I
began to talk about having a child. Certainly genetics were not
our primary concern. We married late (I was thirty-one, Dick
forty-two) and were used to living unencumbered. Since we both
worked as freelance writers, our income was erratic. We had to
think about how we could shape our lives to make room for a
child, whatever child that might be.

     Somehow blindness crept into our discussions. I do not
remember which of us brought up the topic first. But once it
emerged, it had to be addressed. How would I feel if I passed my
blindness to our son or daughter? What would it mean to Dick and
to our extended families? What would it be like for us to raise a
blind child together? I premised my life on the conviction that
blindness was a neutral characteristic. It created some
inconveniences such as not being able to read print or drive a
car. But in the long run I believed that my life could not have
turned out any better if I had been fully sighted. If my child
were blind, I would try to ensure that it had every chance to
become a self-fulfilled, contributing member of society. Dick
agreed with me. We were deciding whether or not to have a child.
Its visual acuity was hardly the point.

     Yet if we truly believed our own words, why were we
discussing blindness at all? I sensed that Dick was trying hard
to say the right thing, even to believe it in his heart. But he
was more troubled than he wished me to know. Once, when I asked
him how he would feel if he learned that our child was blind, he
replied, "I'd be devastated at first, but I'd get over it."

     In retrospect I can appreciate the honesty of his words. Yet
he had not given the answer I had wanted to hear. I was blind,
and I was the woman he had chosen to marry, to spend his life
with for better or worse. He accepted my blindness naturally and
comfortably, as a piece of who I was. If he could accept
blindness in me, why would it be so devastating to him if our
child were blind as well? "You know why," was all he could tell
me. "You have got to understand."

     What I understood was that Dick was the product of a society
that views blindness, and all disability, as fundamentally
undesirable. All his life he had been assailed by images of blind
people who were helpless, useless, and unattractive--misfits in a
sight-oriented world. I had managed to live down those images.

     Dick had discovered that I had something of value to offer.
But I had failed to convince him that it is really okay to be
blind. I wanted our child to be welcomed without reservation. I
wanted Dick to greet its birth with joy. I did not know if I
could bear his devastation if our baby turned out to be blind
like me. In order to make a decision, we had to gather all the
facts. Before we carried the discussion any further, we needed to
find someone who could answer some critical questions.

     On a sunny morning in October Dick and I set out to visit a
specialist who had been recommended to us. Perhaps I would learn
at last why I am blind. As we packed the car, Dick commented,
"It's going to be a long, nervous day." I could not have agreed
with him more.

     I expected a battery of tests. But the doctor dilated my
pupils, gazed into my eyes, and announced, "I'll tell you what
you have, and I'm 100 percent certain. You've got Leber's
congenital amaurosis." Leber's a genetic condition, he explained,
autosomal recessive in nature. Both of my parents carried the
recessive gene, and each of their children had a one-in-four
chance of inheriting the eye condition. What were my chances of
passing Leber's on to my own children? I asked. The doctor
explained that I would inevitably give one recessive gene for
Leber's to my child. But unless my partner happened to carry the
same recessive gene, there was no possibility that our child
would be affected. The chances that Dick would prove to be
another carrier were slight.

     The discussion could have ended with that simple exchange of
information. But the doctor had more to say: "You have a good
life, don't you? If you have a child with Leber's, it can have a
good life, too. Go home and have a dozen kids if you want to."
Even from a complete stranger, those were wonderful words.

     The trip to the specialist cemented our decision to have a
child. Days after our daughter Janna was born, my mother and
father flew out to visit us. Mom helped with the cooking and
house-cleaning while I marveled at the extraordinary new being
who had entered our lives. I was too happy and excited to feel
exhaustion. I was not worried about Janna's vision or anything
else.

     It was almost time for my parents to go home when Dick said
to my mother, "You've raised two blind children. What do you
think--can this kid see or not?" My mother said she really
couldn't be sure. Janna was hardly a week old: it was too soon to
tell. The day after my parents left, Dick found the answer on his
own. As Janna lay in his arms, awake and alert, he moved his hand
back and forth above her face. Distinctly he saw her turn her
head to track the motion. She saw his hand. She followed it with
her eyes.

     "She can see!" Dick exulted. He rushed to the telephone and
called my parents with the news. I listened quietly to their
celebrations. I do not know if anyone noticed that I had very
little to say.

     How do I feel about the fact that Janna can see? I am glad
that her world is enriched by color as well as texture and sound.
And I am grateful that she will never be dismissed as incompetent
and unworthy simply because she is blind. But I know her vision
will not spare her from heartbreak; she will still meet
disappointment, rejection, and self-doubt as all of us must.

     For me blindness will always be a neutral trait, neither to
be prized nor shunned. Very few people, not even those dearest to
me, share this conviction. Sometimes I feel a sense of failure
when I run into jarring reminders that I have not changed their
perspective.

     However, in recent years a new insight has gradually come to
me. Yes, my own loved ones hold the unshakable belief that
blindness is, and always will be, a problem. Nevertheless, these
same people have made me welcome. Though they dread blindness as
a fate to be avoided at almost any cost, they give me their trust
and respect. I am not sure how they live amid these
contradictions. But I recognize that people can and do reach out,
past centuries of prejudice and fear, to forge bonds of love. It
is a truth to marvel at, a cause for hope, and perhaps some small
rejoicing.
                           **********
                           **********
[PHOTO/CAPTION: Doug Elliott]
                       To Take the Plunge
                         by Doug Elliott
                           **********
     From the Editor: Doug Elliott is one of the leaders of the
NFB of Iowa. The following story appeared in To Touch the
Untouchable Dream, the fifteenth in our Kernel Book Series. It
begins with Dr. Jernigan's introduction:
                           **********
     When Doug Elliott came home from Vietnam, he was blind. And
suddenly he had new things to worry about--simple things, like
having lunch at work. Here is what he has to say:
                           **********
     It was a hot, sunny day. I stood on the logs that had been
wedged into a tower in a summer-dry bend of a river by the spring
flooding, now long past. I looked down into the blue, mountain-
cold water. The log I stood on was about eight feet above the
water. I wanted to take that plunge to cool off. But I knew the
water was cold, and it looked like a very long way down. Maybe I
should turn back. But then I would have to climb all the way back
down the log jam.

     I looked down one more time, looked back up, held my breath,
and jumped. I plunged down into the cold water and felt
exhilarated. Refreshed from the plunge, I returned to the high
log and plunged several more times, enjoying each jump more than
the previous one.

     I was twelve years old when I took that plunge and still
remember it well. I could have turned back and not jumped. If I
had, I would not remember the incident at all. Or I might have a
nagging memory of a time when I had done nothing to meet a
challenge, chickened out, failed to learn something about myself
and the world around me, failed to earn the reward which is the
sense of accomplishment when a challenge is successfully met.

     I have backed away from other challenges through the years,
and the experience in hindsight always leaves me feeling empty
and wondering why I didn't make the attempt. Part of the reason I
failed to meet some of these challenges is that I became a blind
person as a young adult and found some new fears.

     Past events haunt us all. One experience that still haunts
me occurred when my church choir was invited to provide a local
spiritual sound as background to a popular performer and singer
at Harrah's Club in Reno, Nevada, where I then lived. This
performer had some popular songs out when I was a young man, such
as something about a "Moon River." The choir could make some
money for the church and have some fun by performing for a night-
club audience.

     We rehearsed at the church until we were ready and then went
to rehearse with the singer and his club band. The choir members
came up onto the stage from a narrow, twisting stairway at the
rear, and I entered in my place in order, using my white cane. We
sang our parts, then relaxed in place while the band and singer
talked about the next set. At some point the singer drifted over
to the pastor of our church and struck up a private conversation
with him, asking if I was blind. This was kind of obvious since I
was standing there with my white cane.

     The pastor confirmed that one of the choir members was
blind. The singer said that he would prefer that I not be
included in the performance. The pastor said I would perform. The
singer called the floor manager to get some backing for excluding
me from the performance. The floor manager gave the old, tired
excuse that it would be a safety issue to have me, a blind
person, climbing up and down those stairs, which were tricky and
difficult even for a person with normal sight.

     At this point the pastor included the rest of us in the
discussion. Everyone agreed. They would not perform if I was
excluded. The singer and floor manager said they would talk about
it and let us know whether they wanted to use a choir with a
blind person in it.

     I went home feeling terrible. I had looked forward to the
performances, and I knew that the other choir members (including
my daughter) had too. I finally called the pastor and told him to
let the singer know that I would drop out so that the other
members could perform. He asked me if I was sure. Yes, I said.
Big mistake.

     Later I found out that the singer said that he would have
allowed me to perform. By then I had chosen not to do so. I
didn't then know how to handle a situation in which my blindness
was raised out of the blue as a barrier to something I wanted to
do. I didn't think the singer should be allowing me the special
privilege of singing when he had requested an entire choir of
which I was an anchor in the baritone section. It hurt. But I
didn't take the plunge then. I walked away, trying to assure
opportunity for others while not facing up to the challenge
myself.

     A few years later I joined the National Federation of the
Blind and started to learn about blindness from a new
perspective. I came to understand that I should have taken the
plunge and sung. I also came to understand that I should have
insisted on being more directly involved in the discussion with
the singer. After all, who would know more about my capabilities
than I? I just didn't have the courage to take the plunge and
stand up for myself. In fact, in that case my pastor and fellow
choir members believed more strongly in my capabilities than I
did. I also lost the chance to teach the singer that blind people
could do the job safely and efficiently. In retrospect that may
have been the most important lesson I learned from this
experience.

     At the same time I was involved in that church choir, I was
employed as a licensed clinical social worker in a large city
hospital. My job required me to see patients and families all
around the hospital. I walked throughout the hospital by myself,
serving the patients to whom I was assigned, using my white cane,
doing my job.

     But when lunch time came, things were different. I would not
go to the cafeteria by myself. I would either sort of hang
around, looking for co-workers with whom I could go or simply go
hungry. I would sometimes go by the cafeteria and stick my head
in. But I just couldn't bring myself to take the plunge. I knew I
could get to the cafeteria itself, but I had fears about what I
thought were unanswerable questions--fears about how to deal with
finding the line of waiting people, moving with the line, finding
the food I wanted without holding up the whole line, and finding
free tables. Later I learned simple techniques for accomplishing
these easy tasks.

     Some years after I had joined the Federation, I worked for a
different hospital as a licensed clinical social worker. I did
the same kind of work I had done at the first hospital, working
this time as the social worker for the neurology and
rehabilitation units. I am proud of the fact that, in the five
years I worked there, not one Medicare claim was ever turned down
for a patient I served, and not one patient ever suffered a
medical reverse while pursuing the discharge plan I created and
implemented.

     For me personally there was a big difference. I met with
patients and families throughout the hospital as before, but when
lunch time came, I went to the cafeteria myself if I felt like
it. I remember that my first day on the job my supervisor asked
if she could get me anything from the cafeteria. Assuming she was
going anyway to get her own lunch, I accepted.

     When she came back, she had my lunch, but when I asked her
what she was having, she told me that she never went to the
cafeteria for lunch. She had just picked up my lunch for me to be
helpful. I knew this would not do. My new supervisor meant no
harm, but she would always see me as someone who needed lots of
help to find his way around and to find things like food if I did
not quickly and politely set a different tone.

     The next day, when lunch time came, I went to find the
cafeteria myself. I heard the noise from the lunchroom and
entered. No demons grabbed me or got in my way. I found the line,
ordered food, paid, then found a table, sat down, and ate my
lunch. This wasn't the first time I had taken this kind of
plunge, but it was an important one since this action would
demonstrate to my supervisor and other employees that I could go
to lunch or not as I chose.

     It's the same choice everyone has, but sometimes we who are
blind don't believe we have those choices. It took me some time
to learn to take the plunge toward independence; but, when I did,
I found it as stimulating as the plunge into the cold, refreshing
water.

     When I first heard the message of the National Federation of
the Blind, I wasn't sure I wanted to believe it; I wasn't sure I
could believe it. Could blind people really do things by
themselves without constant help? Of course we could! But we have
to learn to take that first plunge. It's often scary, but it has
to be done--we have to learn. And for me and thousands of others,
the place to do the learning has been the National Federation of
the Blind.
                           **********
                           **********
[PHOTO CAPTION: Kenneth Jernigan  DESCRIPTION: Dr. Jernigan is
pictured in bib overalls mopping the Harbor Room floor at the
National Center for the Blind]
                 Competing on Terms of Equality
                       by Kenneth Jernigan
                           **********
     From the Editor: The following article first appeared in The
Freedom Bell one of the early Kernel Books. The anecdotes and
stories recounted here are familiar to many Federationists, but
they have never been published in the Monitor before. The points
Dr. Jernigan makes here are so important for every blind person
to reflect upon and understand that we are reprinting the article
in order to make the information easily available. Here it is:
                           **********
     At one time in my life I sold life insurance--a most
interesting occupation. I had a big rate book in print. I could
not always afford to hire somebody to go with me and read it for
me. I was trying to make a living, not be an executive. I
couldn't put it into Braille. I didn't have enough reader time
for that; and, even if I had, it would have meant carrying around
volumes. So that wouldn't have been practical.

     I had another problem: The company kept changing the rate
book as new policies and procedures came along. So what was I to
do? I could have asked my prospective customers to look up the
information I needed, but that wouldn't have worked because the
book contained information I didn't want them to have. I wasn't
trying to hoodwink them. But if you're a wholesaler, you don't
ask your customers to look in the manufacturer's catalog and see
what kind of markup you make. It isn't good psychology. Besides,
most of my clients would not efficiently have been able to find
what I wanted. But what would have been even worse was that it
would have destroyed their confidence in me. They wouldn't have
believed that I was competent to handle their insurance business
if I had done it that way.

     I either had to figure this out or stop selling insurance.
By the way, when I'd tried to get the insurance job, the first
company had said they wouldn't hire me but would let me sell in
the name of another established agent and split commissions with
him if I wanted to. I said no, I didn't think I'd do that. Then I
went off and found a company that would put me on.

     So I tried to discover if there was any way to figure out
shortcuts to work with the rate book, a formula. I learned that,
if I knew the annual premium on a policy, the semiannual premium
(if a client preferred to pay it that way) would be 51 percent.
The quarterly was 26 percent, and the monthly premium was 10
percent. So right there I saved myself lots of columns. It isn't
very hard to figure out 51 percent of something or 26 percent or
10 percent. Ten percent is easy--all you have to do is move a
decimal.

     Then I started on the other end of it, the hard part. I
learned that, if I knew what an individual of a given age would
be charged for a particular policy, there was a formula by which
I could determine what that particular policy would cost an
individual of any age.

     I arbitrarily took age twenty-six, and (knowing the premium
on an ordinary life insurance policy for a person of that age) I
could figure the semiannual, quarterly, or monthly premium for a
person of fifty, sixty, or any other age. Since we mostly sold
fifteen or twenty kinds of policies (there were a few exotic
things, but they were not ordinarily sold), I could put all the
information I needed (name of policy and annual premium for age
twenty-six) on a Braille card or two and put them in my pocket so
nobody would even know I was looking at them.

     It occurred to me that my competitors might also have such
data available. Rate books are rate books. So I thought, "If ours
are like that, I wonder what theirs are like." So I lured some of
my competitors out to my house to sell me insurance and deduced a
number of things about their policies--unraveled the formula and
found that they worked.

     One lonesome, rainy night I went to see a fellow who was
quite well-to-do, a man who could buy (and intended to buy) a
relatively large life insurance policy. It was going to make
somebody a whopping good commission. There are always fewer
things than there are people wanting them, and in this case a lot
of us wanted his insurance business--but only one of us was going
to get it. And it didn't matter whether you explained it, or
called yourself blind, or said, "I can tell you why I didn't do
it." Only one thing counted: did you or didn't you? That was the
test.

     So I went over to see him, and he said he'd been thinking
about buying this insurance. I said, "Well, if you do, it will
cost you this amount."

     Suppose, he said, I decided I want to pay it on a semi-
annual, twice-a-year, basis?

     You could do that, I said, and if you did, it would cost you
this amount.

     I've considered buying from this other company, he said.

     Well, I answered, they're a good company, and, if you buy
the policy from them, it will cost you this. And I went on to
tell him as honestly as I could the advantages and disadvantages
of the other company's policy and of mine.

     Then he said, "I'm going to give you my insurance business
because I think you know what you're doing. I had a fellow out
here the other night who didn't know a thing. Every time I asked
him any question, he had to look it up in that little book he
had."

     Now I'm as lazy as anybody else. We all have a tendency to
that, and there's nothing wrong with being lazy if you properly
understand that it means extracting as much as you can for the
labor you exert. That's perfectly proper. It's just that a lot of
people don't know how to be lazy. If you'll work hard up front,
it will allow you more time to do whatever it is you want to do,
and you can do it more effectively and have more time left over
to do something else.

     If I had had sight, the chances are I never would have been
motivated to have hunted up all that stuff and reasoned it out.
But once I did, it proved to be a tremendous advantage and an
asset. Yet a lot of people would have told me that I was
handicapped in selling insurance because I was blind and couldn't
read my rate book. And they would have been right--unless I did
something about it.

     I also did a stint teaching school. I taught in a school for
the blind, in a day when blind teachers were not highly regarded.
The question was: Could I carry my own weight, and (specifically)
could I keep discipline? I figured out some methods that worked
for me.

     At the beginning of the first class I made a speech to the
students. I said to them, "We are entering on a new
relationship." (That sounds nice and bureaucratic, doesn't it?)
"We're entering on a new relationship, and we can live at peace,
or we can engage in war. If we engage in a peaceful relationship,
all of us can live happily. On the other hand, if you choose to
go to war with me, I have certain advantages that you do not
possess. You may have some that I don't possess--and some that I
haven't thought of. But let me tell you what mine are.

     "I can give you assignments or not. I can assign things to
you in a minute or two that will give you a great deal of
trouble, either to do or find ways of avoiding doing. One day
(whether you now know it or not) it will help you if you have
nice recommendations written on your reports from me--not a lot,
but it will help some.

     "But beyond that, if you try to engage in conflict with me,
there are times when you will succeed in putting things over on
me because all of the brains didn't come here when I got here. So
you'll win sometimes. But on the other side of that is this: All
of the brains didn't come here when you came, so you'll lose
sometimes, and I will catch you. It remains to be seen, then,
whether or not I can make it desirable for you to try to live in
peace with me. I choose peace if I can have it, but I will engage
in war if I must." I made them that speech and passed on.

     I had a student named Johnny Lindenfellow, who was at that
time in the seventh or eighth grade. He took every occasion to be
as mangy as he knew how, and he was an expert at it.

     I tried to reason with him; I tried to be good to him; I
pleaded with him about the good of the school and humanity; I
talked with him about living and letting live. But nothing
worked. There was no getting along with him. Nothing made any
difference. In fact, whenever I would lay some punishment on him,
he seemed to glory in it as proof that he was a tough customer.

     So I changed tactics. One day, when he had done something I
didn't like, I said, "Johnny, you will please stay after class."

     I could feel him expand with pleasure. He knew I wasn't
allowed to kill him, that there was some limit as to what I could
do.

     After class, when we were alone, I said, "Johnny, it's been
a long conflict between you and me, and I want to tell you now
what I'm going to do. As you know, I teach other English classes
in this school. In about two hours I'm going to be teaching an
English class, and I'm going to provoke an incident in that class
so that somebody misbehaves.

     "It's not difficult to think up some way to get it done.
Then I will say to the student who misbehaves, `Why can't you be
a good little boy like Johnny Lindenfellow?' I will do that over
and over and over until I make you the most hated boy in this
school. You will fight fifty times every day. I will call you a
good little boy to every class I have until the day comes that
they will beat you to death. You will fight all of the time."

     "You wouldn't do that to me," he protested.

     "Oh, but I would!" I said. "It's clear that I can think it
up.... I did; I've already told you about it. And I will do it."

     He said, "Look, I'd like to get along."

     "So would I," I said. "I'm perfectly willing to have it
either way, peace or war. You have declared psychological war on
me, and I'm no longer prepared to be passive about it. I'm going
to pull out all the stops and go to war with you now."

     "Look, I want to get along," he reiterated.

     "Fine," I said, and he and I became the best of friends and
had no more trouble.

     That is one way you can maintain discipline. It didn't hurt
him. It probably helped him. It certainly helped me.

     I discovered another very effective technique, which is
translatable beyond school. One day I found a student engaging in
an infraction of the rules. I said nothing about it until the
next day. Then, in the middle of the class period, I interrupted
what I was saying and remarked: "Yesterday, Frances, you violated
this rule (and I specified). Your punishment is this." Without
another word I returned to the discussion.

     Nobody said much, but I could hear people thinking about it.
In a day or two I caught somebody else doing something and didn't
mention that for two days. The next time I let it go three days--
then a week--then two weeks--and then three. Thus the culprit
never knew whether he or she had been detected in crime, and the
agony of the suspense cut down on the pleasure considerably.

     The students never knew whether they had been caught--or
when the ax would fall. A lot of times teachers forget that they
were once students themselves, and they don't put any ingenuity
into the psychological warfare which some students take joy in
waging and always win.

     We had a rule in my class. If anybody brought anything in
and left it there and I found it, that individual had to sit down
and punch out a whole sheet of full Braille cells, using a dull
stylus and an old slate that wasn't in good alignment. The work
had to be done in my presence so that I knew the individual had
done it. That was also the rule if a person didn't bring whatever
was supposed to be brought to class--book, paper, or whatever.

     Once, when I was keeping library, the president of the
senior class brought me a written book report. I got called away
from the library desk. When I left at the end of the period, I
forgot to take the report with me. The next day, when he came to
my English class, the student walked up to my desk and handed the
report to me. He said not a word. He just stood there. He had
obviously primed all of his fellow students. Everybody simply sat
and waited.

     "You've got me dead to rights," I said. "Furthermore, you
have done something else. You have stripped away all of the
things that might have muddied the water. You didn't come and
demand that I do anything. You didn't make me a speech. You just
brought the evidence and laid it out. Therefore, today in library
I will bring the slate and stylus and come and sit at your table.
In your presence I will punch each and every dot and present you
with the completed page."

     I would like to be able to say that I deliberately planned
that piece of drama--that I knowingly planted the book report and
calculatedly forgot it in the hope that he would do what he did.
But I didn't. I wasn't sharp enough. However, I hope I learned
enough from the experience that I would do it next time--
assuming, of course, there ever is a next time. It worked
wonders. It made the students feel that I was willing to be
flexible, that I wasn't stuffy, that I took seriously the rules
which I made, and that I was not above the law. It did a lot of
positive things, and if I had had the wisdom to think, I would
certainly have staged it just the way it happened. But I didn't.
I simply saw the possibilities in the situation and took
advantage of them. Somebody has wisely said that luck is where
opportunity and preparation meet.

     Many of us who are blind could get jobs that we don't get,
and we don't simply because we have been told by others that we
can't perform, and we have believed it. We have been told that
we're geniuses for doing the simplest of routine tasks, and we
have taken pride in the so-called compliment.

     Too often we have sold our potential equality for a trifle:
If, for instance, it is raining and luggage is to be loaded into
a car, which is right in front of a door and easily accessible,
almost nobody would think anything of it if a perfectly healthy
blind person waited under shelter while a sighted person said,
"Just stand here. I'll load the car." It isn't pleasant to get
wet, especially if you have on freshly pressed clothes. I know.
I've been there. And there is a temptation, if nobody expects you
to do whatever it is, to take advantage of it.

     It is a matter of having sense enough to know how to behave
to get on in the world. If my motive in standing in that doorway
is that only one person is needed to load the car and that there
is no point in everybody getting wet, that's fine. But if my
motive is to stand and wait because I'm blind, let me not
complain the next time I don't get equal treatment when the
goodies are being passed out.

     I believe that I am capable of competing on terms of real
equality with others in jobs. When I have had a problem, I don't
believe it's because anyone has wanted to be vicious or unkind or
mean to me. It has been because people have taken for granted
that I can't be expected to do this or that kind of thing. And
sometimes I haven't believed I could do things.

     I know that, before I can convince anybody else, I must
convince myself. I must really believe that I can get along as
well as others. Unless I believe that, how can I expect other
people to believe it? To a great extent the sighted public will
treat me and other blind people like what we believe in our
hearts we are.
                           **********
                           **********
          China's Disabled Are Victims of a New Economy
                           **********
     From the Editor: The following story appeared without a
byline in the New York Times on January 25, 1999. It is a stark
reminder of how much deprivation and discrimination blind people
still endure in the world's developing nations. Here it is:
                           **********
     BEIJING--The blind man in a frayed cotton jacket stood on
the sidewalk, hawking cheap plastic shopping bags without much
success to shoppers who scurried past. The man, Li Bohui, forty-
three, was trying to supplement the $30 he receives each month
for his years of service in a failed state-owned brush factory.

     China's drive to wring out money-losing state industries has
been hard on many workers, but perhaps roughest of all on people
with disabilities, like Li. For decades China has employed many
disabled people in subsidized "welfare factories," where they
worked at simple tasks for modest salaries. In a country that
rarely provided welfare payments to anyone, this allowed the
disabled to earn a living of sorts.

     But now that system is collapsing because few such companies
have been able to compete in the emerging market economy. As a
result hundreds of thousands of people with impaired vision or
hearing, paralyzed limbs, or other disabilities have lost jobs.

     "The economic problems have hit the disabled much harder
than the general population," said Zhou Yongshen, a sociologist
with the Beijing Academy of Social Sciences. The government's new
strategy is to integrate the disabled into the mainstream work
force. But these efforts are running up against a cultural legacy
of discrimination and neglect.

     Like other laid-off workers, the disabled are supposed to
continue receiving small subsistence payments from the companies
where they worked. Experienced only at welfare factories, their
education usually minimal, the middle-aged disabled have little
prospect of finding new jobs.

     "When I was young, it was hard to get any schooling," said
Li, explaining why he turned to peddling. "I think it's much
better for younger people today if they can get an education and
a trade."

     Across town at the Beijing School for the Blind, nineteen-
year-old Wang Xiuming is one of those younger people, gaining a
skill that represents the latest push among advocates for the
blind.

     Along with many of her classmates and hundreds of other
young blind people around the country, she is studying
therapeutic massage--an ancient tradition in Chinese medicine
that is increasingly being taken over by blind masseurs trained
at special institutes for work in hospitals, clinics and hotels.

     Tens of thousands more of China's blind people already work
as masseurs--most of them illiterate and lacking the advanced
training provided by this Beijing school, perhaps offering their
services in beauty parlors or along roadsides.

     Preparing young blind people to become medical masseurs or,
second in popularity, piano tuners, is seen by officials and
students here as a step forward, offering the chance of more
independent careers.

     "I thought about many occupations," said Ms. Wang, "and I
decided that this one was suitable for me."

     But the channeling of bright blind students into these
"appropriate" professions also shows how far China remains from
bringing disabled people into the mainstream, a goal sought more
avidly in the United States and other Western countries.

     In the late 1980's the concerns of the disabled began
receiving serious attention here as Deng Pufeng, a son of the
late leader Deng Xiaoping, helped create a national federation
that he still heads. Deng's legs were paralyzed years earlier
when, facing persecution in the Cultural Revolution, he jumped
out of a window. Now Deng, who uses a wheelchair, is a well-
connected advocate for greater opportunity for the disabled.

     Most disabled children in cities now receive the universally
required nine years of schooling with special help if needed. But
in rural areas, where there are no funds for special schools or
classroom helpers, many still do not get a basic education.

     In part because of the lack of funds, in part because
attitudes toward them still tend to range from paternalism to
disdain, disabled Chinese have only slowly entered universities
and professions. An anti-discrimination law was enacted in 1991,
and progress has been greatest for those with physical problems
such as paralyzed legs; hundreds of such people have attended
university.

     But blind people still are kept largely in separate domains,
and even today, officials at the Beijing school say, few if any
blind students are attending ordinary university classes anywhere
in China.

     One reason is that China lacks the money for widespread
introduction of computerized speech synthesizers, which are
increasingly used by the blind in schools and workplaces in the
United States. The Beijing school is experimenting with computer
techniques but is also developing its own college-level course in
medical massage.

     The welfare factory system had been developed on a large
scale in the late 1950's, when everyone was expected to help
build the new socialist state. In recent years tens of thousands
of these factories have employed about one million disabled
people doing everything from folding book pages to making match
boxes or toys.

     Now the government is pursuing integration by trying to
require all companies and institutions to hire some disabled
people. In the mid-1990's in Beijing and eight other cities,
trial efforts began to require companies to hire at least one
percent of their workers from the disabled, with fines for
noncompliance.

     "The intent was good, but so far these policies have not
been very successful," said Zhou, the sociologist, who has
studied the program. Over a recent two-year period in Beijing,
only about 400 disabled people got jobs through this policy, he
said, "and if that sounds bad, in Shanghai over three years only
100 people got work that way."

     Smaller firms see the requirement as a hardship, Zhou said,
while larger, successful state enterprises often find it easier
to pay a fine than to comply. Government offices often do not
follow the guidelines, and Beijing's ten major universities at
first applied to be exempted on the grounds that they had many
overseas guests and scholars and were worried about maintaining
their image.

     Blind people, with their special educational needs such as
Braille, still usually attend separate schools here. The training
programs in massage and piano tuning are opening up new
opportunities, if stereotyped ones.

     At the Beijing Massage Hospital, an advanced center for
traditional medical massage that offers treatment for a wide
range of orthopedic ailments and pains as well as some internal
diseases, thirty-one of the forty-six massage professors are
blind.

     One of them, Zhou Jianzhong, who is forty and attended the
Beijing School for the Blind, said many of his old classmates who
had entered welfare factories had been laid off and were now
trying to learn massage along with the younger generation.

     "I think this is well suited to blind people," he said of
massage. "It's safe, you don't have to be highly mobile, and they
tend to have a good sense of touch."

     "The Chinese trust blind people in this job," he said. But
finding good massage jobs is getting difficult too, he added.
                           **********
                           **********
[PHOTO/CAPTION: President Maurer uses a chain saw to cut wood in
the workshop at the National Center for the Blind.]
                     Children and Chain Saws
                         by Marc Maurer
                           **********
     From the Editor: The following story was Dr. Maurer's
contribution to To Touch the Untouchable Dream, the fifteenth in
the NFB's Kernel Book series of paperbacks. It begins with Dr.
Jernigan's introduction:
                           **********
     As readers of the Kernel Books know, Marc Maurer is
President of the National Federation of the Blind. He is also a
lawyer and the father of two sighted children. Here is what he
says about some of his experiences with his children and about
chain saws:
                           **********
     Today many blind persons are employed as teachers in public
schools, colleges, and universities. The techniques used by a
blind person for teaching a skill or a body of knowledge are not
always the same as the ones used by the sighted. However, the
fundamentals are identical. I have tried to show my sighted
children, David and Dianna, how to do many, many things. But they
don't do them the way I do.

      Consider, for instance, pounding nails. I believe that the
customary method for pounding nails is this: hold the nail
between the thumb and index finger of the left hand; place it
where you want it; hold the hammer in your right hand; and tap
the nail gently with it. When the nail is set, get the left hand
out of the way, and pound the nail home.

      When I pound nails, I do all of these things, but I add an
additional step. I place my finger on the head of the nail. As I
am bringing the hammer down, I move my finger out of the way.
When I again raise the hammer, I put my finger on the nail once
more. This technique reminds me where the nail is located, and it
helps to guide my right hand for each hammer stroke. If I were
not quick enough in moving my finger, I would smash it with the
hammer. But I always move my finger just in time.

      Then, there is the chain saw. Some time ago I was talking
with a former member of the Board of Directors of the National
Federation of the Blind, Fred Schroeder. Fred and I are both
totally blind. Although he is an accomplished teacher and a
highly respected administrator of programs for the disabled,
being the Commissioner of the federal Rehabilitation Services
Administration, I discovered during the course of our
conversation that he had never used a chain saw, and I offered to
teach him how to do it.

      There is a large fireplace in one of the rooms at the
National Center for the Blind. Sometimes people give us firewood,
but occasionally we are offered the wood only if we are prepared
to cut it. We keep a chain saw for that purpose at the Center.
Fred and I put on coveralls and went downstairs to look for the
chain saw. We checked to see that it had plenty of gasoline, and
I began to show it to Fred.

      The chain saw has two handles. The one in front is mounted
just forward of the engine and behind the blade. The rear handle
is behind the engine, and it contains the trigger, which
determines the speed of the saw. When the engine is running, the
chain saw idles with a popping and clattering sound. When the
trigger is pulled, the popping increases to a high-pitched snarl.

      The business end of the chain saw is the bar out front,
which has the chain wrapped around it. At full throttle the chain
travels around the bar very rapidly and cuts the wood. We were
using a saw with a twenty-four inch bar--a fairly heavy model,
but not unmanageable.

      I gave Fred a good many safety tips about the operation of
the chain saw, and I showed him all of its parts. He examined the
chain in detail--its links have little sharp pieces of steel that
stick out to do the cutting. I told him that, when the saw was
running, he should not touch the chain. If he did, I said, the
saw would barely notice, but his finger would be gone. I showed
him how to handle and control the saw, and I urged him to be
aware that sometimes a chain saw can buck.

      I got out a big chunk of wood and laid it on the sawbuck.
Then I started the engine, and I demonstrated the operation of
the chain saw by cutting a piece of wood. How does a blind person
observe such demonstrations? I told Fred to put his hands on my
hands so that he could feel the motions as I handled the saw.
Then it was his turn.

      Fred reached for the starting rope and gave it a pull. The
engine kicked over and began to idle. He picked up the heavy
machine and gave the engine some gas. Sawdust flew, and in a
short time a piece of wood hit the ground. The chain saw had done
its job, and Fred Schroeder, the totally blind chain saw
operator, had handled the machine. When quiet had been restored,
he said with enthusiasm, "I bet there are a lot of blind people
around here who don't know how to do that. We should show them!"

      When I heard those words, I knew that programs for the
blind under Fred Schroeder's direction would never be the same.
The lesson of the chain saw would not be lost. It would help Fred
believe that limitations which he and others had thought might
apply to blindness should be re-examined.

      The teaching of skills is important, but the teaching of
attitudes is more important. There are those who have thought
that teaching encompasses only such matters as building a
birdhouse, constructing a bridge, or writing a legal brief. But
learning goes beyond the acquisition of skills. One who truly
learns will come to know that it is important to be honest and
that generosity is its own reward.

      I try to teach my children the skills they must have to
accomplish daily tasks, but of at least equal importance is the
need for them to have proper attitudes and values. I want them to
be tough-minded, able to recognize and reject nonsense, honest
with themselves and with others, possessed of sufficient
discipline to meet the challenge of hard work, imaginative,
capable of initiative, and willing to recognize and avoid bad
behavior. I know that it is my prime responsibility to teach
these values, and I keep wondering how I'm doing. I have the
disheartening feeling that I may not know how well I've done
until it is too late. Consequently I am always on the lookout for
evidence.

      Last August my wife Patricia and I had our twenty-fourth
wedding anniversary. A few days before the actual date of the
event, it became apparent that something mysterious was underway.
David and Dianna had secret whispered conversations with each
other and with a family friend. When the anniversary came, they
were excited. In the late afternoon they told us that we were
prohibited from entering the kitchen. Our children insisted that
we stay in the living room and keep out of the way.

      In a short time they called us for dinner--a dinner they
had planned and cooked for us. Our children had collected ten
dollars between them, had persuaded a family friend to take them
to the grocery store for shopping, had planned the menu, and had
cooked the food. They were proud to serve it to us. The menu was
fried chicken, rice, corn, black-eyed peas, biscuits, and a
freshly homemade cake.

      I was surprised and pleased by the event. Children have a
difficult time surprising their parents on birthdays and
Christmas and anniversaries. They want to give something to their
parents that Mom and Dad will really like. But they don't know
what it is, and sometimes the things they imagine for gifts are
too costly.

      My children hit upon a scheme that suited the whole family
exactly. A quiet dinner at home is precisely what we wanted, and
our children collected their pennies to get it. Beyond that, they
asked for advice about how to cook the meal (a thing they had
never done in the past), and they had the confidence to do it
without other assistance. They split the cost--$4.85 was paid by
each of them. In making this present, they demonstrated the
ability to plan, the willingness to work, sufficient imagination
to know what would be wanted, and a measure of generosity. Maybe
our efforts at teaching David and Dianna are working after all.

      In the National Federation of the Blind we have taught each
other many things we did not know we knew. Sometimes these are
simple and straightforward: such as how to sew on a button or
cook a meal or run a chain saw. Sometimes they are far more
complex. When we do our work well, we teach each other to have
faith in ourselves and to believe in a brighter tomorrow.

      We are thankful for the help from our sighted friends and
neighbors, but we are anxious also to make our own contributions
and to live a full life. Sometimes we learn it with a chain saw,
and sometimes with a homemade anniversary cake.
                           **********
                           **********
[PHOTO/CAPTION: Tina Blatter]
                       The Feeling of Art
                         by Molly Miron
                           **********
     From the Editor: The following article first appeared in the
March 5, 1999, edition of the Brookings Register. Tina Blatter is
a member of the Board of Directors of the National Federation of
the Blind of South Dakota. As an artist she is particularly
interested in texture, and much of her work is tactile collage.
As part of a recent Artist-in-Schools program, she presented
evening workshops for parents and members of the community at
large, and she also worked with elementary students during the
day. Here is the story:
                           **********
     A blind artist spreads the joy of creativity to local school
children with color and texture. Noodles and beans, feathers and
crimped paper, yarn and ribbon, but no paint or crayons.

     Hillcrest Elementary students learned from Tina Blatter this
week how a blind person creates art. And in the process the
children explored exciting ideas in pattern, color, and collage.
The program was part of the South Dakota Arts Council's Artist-
in-Schools, sponsored by the Hillcrest PTA with funds from the
state arts council and National Endowment for the Arts.

     "It's funner," said second-grader Kacey Harming Thursday
afternoon as she chose her materials from boxes of glittering
treasure. "And you don't get your hands all messy."

     "I'm going to string some stuff and glue it on and put some
paper on it, and then I'm going to put on, like, some squares,"
said Gavin Winters breathlessly, as he arranged his patterns.

     "We probably haven't had a project where we had so much
freedom to create," said Karen Kinder, elementary art teacher.
"It's a lot more choices than normal."

     Cassie Hall, another second-grader, agreed. "There are other
things to do really great art work besides using crayons or
paints or markers," she said.

     As for their teacher's not being able to see and needing
Braille labels to identify their work, Gavin, also second grade,
said he was not sure what to expect.

     "Maybe that they're going to mess up. I don't know anybody
blind except her," he said of Blatter.

     Along with teaching new art techniques, Blatter said she
also gave children an understanding about blindness. Only about
fifteen percent of blind people live in total darkness. Most see
degrees of light, she said.

     She demonstrated the perceptions of various blind people by
giving children waxed paper or cardboard tubes to peer through.
She also showed them Braille books, how she could navigate with a
cane, and other devices blind people used.

     "You noticed I opened my watch and felt it," she told the
children, as she checked the time for class to start. "It's a
Braille watch, and guess what happens when you raise your hands?"

     The children cheered when they heard that art class with
Blatter was a time when they needed to call out their answers,
instead of raising hands and waiting for her response. Travis
Norgaard, said the words "blind artist" sounded like opposites
when they were put together.

     Blatter, forty-six, said she had always been interested in
art, but when she was in school, teachers did not think it was
realistic for a legally blind youngster with less than 10 percent
vision to pursue such a career. "I used to do sort of a Monet
style with this paper and paint," she said. Since then, Blatter
said, researchers have discovered that several of the famous
impressionists such as Henri Matisse, Claude Monet, and Vincent
Van Gogh probably had vision problems.

     She earned a degree in special education and a master's
degree in rehabilitative counseling, continuing her art on the
side. "I've developed a technique of tactile collage," she said.
"I tend not to use paint with kids at all. I teach them to use
alternate materials."

     She said she could see bright colors, but much of the appeal
of her art was in touching the surface. When she exhibits her
works, Blatter said, she always puts up a sign, "Please touch."
That was something she said she always wished to do when she was
a child. "Adults are like, `Oh, my gosh, are you really sure,'"
she said with a smile. But children have no such inhibitions.

     A native of New York state, Blatter worked as an artist in
various parts of the country before moving to South Dakota in
1996. She now lives in Sioux Falls.

     She said she had some qualms when she applied for the
Artists-in-Schools program. "Early on I thought, who would take
me seriously? I'm blind, and I don't have an art degree," she
said. "But it's worked out." However, after she submitted her
portfolio and slides of her works, the only question that came up
concerned transportation.
                           **********
                           **********
                      The Danger of Passing
                       by Jody W. Ianuzzi
                           **********
     From the Editor: Jody Ianuzzi is not a mental health
professional. She is a blind woman with a little residual vision
and a long history of working to come to terms with what that
means and can mean to her. Almost anyone who has ever had a
little vision knows the temptation of pretending to see more than
one really can. Other people want you to appreciate the visual
world, and it is such a disappointment to them when it isn't
possible.

     I remember in college knitting a sweater with a four-color
pattern around the yoke. I gather it was rather spectacular, and
a friend wanted in the worst way for me to appreciate what I was
doing. She spent hours cutting two-inch-long slips of colored
construction paper and arranging them on a table under a bright
light in the pattern of my sweater. She hoped that I could see
the enlarged, brightly lit pattern. I couldn't, but she was so
excited about the project and so dismayed when I walked in and
did not have any idea what she had done that I was gradually
persuaded to begin pretending that the more I looked at the table
the more clear the pattern became. I felt hypocritical, but I
trust the Lord will understand my impulse to be kind.

     When children are forced into these subterfuges, it is
particularly unfortunate because they learn lessons that are
destructive of their true identity and their sense of worth for
who they are. Here is what Mrs. Ianuzzi has to say about the
experience:
                           **********
     What is passing? It is not a new phenomenon. Various groups
of people have attempted to pass for years. Passing is behavior
practiced by members of a minority to appear like the majority.
In the past African Americans straightened their hair to appear
white. People even changed their names from Roberto to Roberts to
seem more Anglo. People with disabilities have worked hard to
keep their disabilities from being noticed. For a legally blind
person, passing is learning to play endless games to appear to
see things that can't be seen.

     Why should a legally blind person attempt to pass as a
sighted person in the first place? I played the passing game for
most of my life. It starts out innocently enough. A small child
realizes that parents are happy when the child can see and sad
when he or she can not. When I went to school in the '60's, I was
always afraid that, if I couldn't see and keep up with the
sighted students, I would be sent away from my family. I came to
believe that my parents, the school, my peers, members of the
opposite sex, and future employers would accept me only if I was
sighted or pretended to be sighted.

     The stress levels resulting from trying to pass are
unimaginable. Every time you walk into a room, you are terrified
that someone will find out your secret. Your hands shake at the
thought of the possible traps awaiting you. Will there be stairs?
Will someone hand you something that you don't see? Will people
notice you don't make eye contact with them? I remember when I
began taking horseback-riding lessons, the instructor asked what
I could see. I said I could see when I couldn't for fear of not
being allowed to ride. I remember confiding in a friend that I
had problems seeing. I was sure that, once she knew, she wouldn't
be my friend any more.

     The really sad thing about passing is that it inevitably
catches up with you. Your vision will decrease, or the demands of
a busy lifestyle will make it impossible to keep up. How do you
explain you don't drive? When it does catch up with you, you go
through a period of self-contempt because you can't pass anymore,
and you feel like a failure. You are terrified of being rejected
by everyone you have always passed with.

     Then, when you eventually come to accept yourself as you
are, you resent all the people that made you feel as though it
was necessary to pass in the first place. You ask yourself why
they couldn't have accepted you the way you are.

     I knew a wise woman who discovered the truth about passing
long before I did. She used arm crutches to walk slowly. She had
some movement in her legs, but it was very limited. One day she
realized that the only reason she used the crutches was to appear
as normal as possible. She decided to start using a wheelchair
because it was more efficient and faster then slowly walking with
crutches. She went on to become a finalist in the wheelchair
races at the Paralympics. Today she has to start marathons first
because she leaves the runners in her dust. We could all learn a
lesson from her example and the example of many competent blind
people.

     Why was I taught that I should choose between being a
competent sighted person and an incompetent blind person? I have
met many competent blind people who have mastered skills from
climbing mountains to walking across the country to sailing
oceans. Yet I still hear of children who believe that they must
hide their blindness. They are ashamed of what they are. I still
hear of teachers who settle for a slow print-reading speed when
the child could read twice as fast using Braille. I still hear of
children risking serious accidents because their parents don't
recognize that they need a white cane. Why!

     I envy the blind children who are raised in a matter-of-fact
environment by parents and schools that accept their blindness
openly and encourage the blind child to reach for the stars
anyway.

     Passing is like being followed by a dark shadow. One day
that dark shadow catches up with you, and you realize it is an
angel telling you that it is okay to be blind, that you are still
a whole person, and that the world won't reject you. It is much
easier and safer to accept who you are and stop fooling yourself.

     Let's put an end to passing!
                           **********
                           **********
[PHOTO/CAPTION: Mary Ellen Thompson]
                       Mrs. Pelzer Retires
                     by Mary Ellen Thompson
                           **********
     From the Editor: Mary Ellen Thompson is herself a member of
the national staff and a loyal Federationist cut from the same
fine cloth as Mrs. Pelzer. The NFB is filled with quiet people
who do not make a production of their commitment to Federation
principles and who work hard and faithfully without fanfare or
hoopla. My mother's term for such folks is "All wool and a yard
wide." They are the very backbone of our movement, and we would
all do well to look around us and notice these members,
acknowledge their contributions, and thank God for their
dedicated service. This is what Mrs. Thompson says about long-
time NFB staffer Joanne Pelzer:
                           **********
     I met Mrs. Pelzer in 1981 soon after I came to work at the
Maurer Law Firm. In those days her office at the National Center
for the Blind was located in the East Mall. She was the quiet and
friendly one who did her job proficiently and thoroughly. She
kept the Monitor mailing list in order.

     We became friends the first time we said hello, and the
friendship has never ended. I have learned countless lessons from
my friends, and some of the most important ones have been those
taught by Mrs. Pelzer. First and foremost, I have learned
patience. Mrs. Pelzer faces every day of every week of every year
armed with patience and the love of our great provider. She is
blessed with the presence of the Lord in everything she does, and
with her understanding and patience she is herself a blessing.

     Convention goers know her from the banquet ticket exchange
table. This job requires patience with people who are in a hurry
and unconcerned with the necessity of orderly business. Mrs.
Pelzer handled that job as if she had been born to it. She made
ticket exchanges confidently and made folks feel glad that they
had spoken with her.

     Away from the National Center and the National Convention,
she studied at the Baltimore Bible College and became an
evangelist. Mrs. Pelzer shares her life with her family,
including two daughters and several grandchildren.

     In the last few years I have learned yet another lesson
through Mrs. Pelzer's example. It's how to be sick and still keep
smiling and how to keep going when you don't feel well. Mrs.
Pelzer is long-suffering. She has had diabetes for many years.
Because of her diabetes she has had trouble for years with
healing wounds and other complications of diabetes. She has never
indulged herself in pain; and, as a matter of fact, she never
mentions her difficulties at all unless she is questioned.

     A few years ago I learned that I also have diabetes. I was
not happy with the news, but when I told Mrs. Pelzer, she got
busy immediately educating me on the subject. I can't tell you
how important her ability to put me at ease about my diabetes has
been in helping me. If all adversity could be faced with such
even-handed courage and with the love of the Lord, there would be
fewer adversities and more smiles from confident, happy people.

     In December, 1998, Mrs. Pelzer retired from the staff of the
National Center for the Blind. She has become a dialysis patient
and found it necessary to have more time for that process and the
rest that it requires. When I first met Mrs. Pelzer, she was a
sighted person. Recently, because of diabetic complications, she
has had one eye removed and has little or no vision in the
remaining eye. Mrs. Pelzer may have retired from the national
staff, but she is still very much in the hearts of us all. She
comes to chapter meetings when she can, and many of us keep her
telephone line busy.

     The strength of her convictions is made visible in her
patience. Mrs. Pelzer is not one to stay down or out. She is
already setting the wheels in motion to go to the Louisiana
Center for the Blind for her training as a blind person. When the
time comes, she will go to Ruston and will do well. We love you,
Mrs. Pelzer. Thank you for all you have done.
                           **********
                           **********
[PHOTO/CAPTION: Joanne Pelzer]
                       A Stalwart Retires
                         by Marc Maurer
                           **********
     In 1978, as members of the Federation know, the National
Federation of the Blind moved its headquarters office from Des
Moines, Iowa, to Baltimore, Maryland. The National Center for the
Blind was acquired in that year, and the remodeling which was
necessary to make it usable was commenced. In the spring of 1979
we moved in. Within a very few days of the moment when we
occupied the National Center, Mrs. Joanne Pelzer was hired. She
was the first of many people that we sought to assist in the work
of the Federation in our newly renovated Baltimore headquarters.
Mrs. Pelzer worked for us from 1979 until the winter of 1998. She
gave unstintingly of her time, her energy, and her commitment.
During the time that she was a part of our staff, she developed
health problems largely from diabetes. Nevertheless, she
continued to give of her strength and her loyalty. She was always
quiet but always prepared to offer what she had. A generous and a
deeply religious person, Mrs. Pelzer could be counted upon.

     When we moved to Baltimore, we did not know what the future
would hold for us. We did not know whether we could expect
support from our new environment. We did not know about the
people of Baltimore, Maryland. In Mrs. Pelzer we found an example
of the goodness that we came to respect and deeply appreciate. We
had been led to believe that the people of the East Coast are
standoffish. We learned from Mrs. Pelzer that the rumor was
without foundation.

     In the fall of 1998 Mrs. Pelzer's health problems prevented
her from working. Complications of diabetes became severe, and
Mrs. Pelzer lost considerable energy and much of her sight. In
December she retired from active work within the Federation.
However, she did not retire from the organization. She is still a
member of the Baltimore chapter, and she is planning soon to
become a student at the Louisiana Center for the Blind. Long ago
it was said about the programs Dr. Jernigan had created that, if
a person must be blind, it is better to be blind in the place
where Dr. Jernigan's programs exist. We regret that Mrs. Pelzer
has become blind, but we intend to support those who have worked
so hard and given so much to the Federation. We will ensure that
Mrs. Pelzer gets the rehabilitation she needs. She is the first
of the stalwarts who came to be part of the family in Baltimore,
and we wish her all the best.
                           **********
                           **********
                             Recipes
                           **********
     This month's recipes are provided by members of the National
Association of Blind Piano Tuners.
                           **********
[PHOTO/CAPTION: Don Mitchell]
                      Piano Tuna Casserole
                         by Don Mitchell
                           **********
     Don Mitchell is the President of the piano tuners division
and the director of instruction at the Emil Fries School of Piano
Tuning and Technology in Vancouver, Washington.
                           **********
Ingredients:
1 6-ounce can water-packed tuna, drained
1 10-ounce can condensed cream of mushroom soup
2 cups uncooked macaroni
                           **********
     Method: Cook macaroni according to package directions in a
two-quart pan, adding one teaspoon salt. Cook five to eight
minutes or until desired tenderness and drain macaroni. Return
pan to low heat. Combine tuna and soup with macaroni and stir
gently until ingredients are well mixed. Heat through and serve.
Makes two to four servings.
                           **********
                           **********
[PHOTO/CAPTION: Connie Ryan]
                        Italian Meat Loaf
                         by Connie Ryan
                           **********
     Connie Ryan serves as Treasurer of the National Association
of Blind Piano Tuners.
                           **********
Ingredients:
1 pound ground beef
3 to 4 ounces ground Italian sausage
1 cup chopped onion
1 cup chopped bell pepper
3 slices bread, crumbled
1 egg
1 can Italian-style tomatoes
                           **********
     Method: Combine all ingredients in a bowl and mix well with
hands. Pat into loaf pan or casserole dish. If using a
conventional oven, bake at 350 degrees for one hour. If using a
microwave oven, cook on high for twenty minutes. When done, drain
off excess grease and serve. Serves four.
                           **********
                           **********
[PHOTO/CAPTION: Richard Bennett]
                  Francis Kitchen's Crab Cakes
                       by Richard Bennett
                           **********
     Richard Bennett is division First Vice President. This
recipe comes from Smith Island, located in the heart of the
Chesapeake Bay.
                           **********
Ingredients:
1 pound crab meat
3 tablespoons flour
4 shakes Worcestershire sauce
1 large egg
2 tablespoons parsley flakes
1 tablespoon Dijon prepared mustard
2 generous tablespoons mayonnaise
Salt and pepper to taste
                           **********
     Method: Mix all ingredients. Heat three-fourths cup cooking
oil in skillet. Using a one-fourth cup measuring cup, mold cakes
and cook in skillet until golden brown. Makes twelve cakes.
                           **********
                           **********
[PHOTO/CAPTION: Karl Smith]
                          Korean Salad
                          by Karl Smith
                           **********
     Karl Smith is a part-time tuner and full-time operator of
CSA Adaptive Technologies in Salt Lake City, Utah.
                           **********
Ingredients:
Spinach or Romaine lettuce
Red onion
Mandarin oranges
Walnuts, broken into coarse pieces
Butter or margarine
Salt
Your favorite Italian dressing

     (Amounts for this recipe depend on how many people you are
feeding and your taste preferences. Basically, two heads of
Romaine lettuce or bunches of spinach, one half of a small red
onion, one or two cans Mandarin oranges, and two small packages
of walnuts will feed four people.
                           **********
     Method: Wash the lettuce, remove tough stems, and tear into
bite-size pieces. Halve the onion and slice into very thin half-
rounds. Drain the oranges well. Combine these three ingredients
in a large salad bowl. Saute the walnuts in a little butter or
margarine until they are tasty and crunchy. Then salt them
lightly. Lay them on a paper towel for a minute to absorb any
excess butter. Toss the salad with the dressing and sprinkle the
walnuts over the top like croutons.
                           **********
                           **********

                         Chili Cornbread
                         by David Bills
                           **********
     David Bills is a retired piano tuner and now repairs Perkins
Braille writers.
                           **********
Ingredients:
1 cup cornmeal
1/4 cup flour
1 tablespoon sugar
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1 cup cut corn (about 3 ears)
4 ounces green chili, chopped
8 ounces sour cream
4 ounces Cheddar cheese, shredded
2 eggs, beaten
2 tablespoons butter or margarine
                           **********
     Method: Combine first five ingredients; mix well. Stir in
remaining ingredients except butter. Melt butter or margarine in
an eight-inch iron skillet, pour batter quickly into pan, and
bake at 350 degrees for one hour.
                           **********
                           **********
                            Brownies
                          By Karl Smith
                           **********
     Here's an encore from Karl Smith that's too good to miss.
                           **********
Ingredients:
2 cups sugar
4 squares unsweetened baking chocolate or 8 tablespoons Hershey's
cocoa and 4 tablespoons cooking oil
2 sticks butter or margarine
4 eggs
1 cup flour
1 bloop vanilla (This is a cooking measurement familiar to all
experienced cooks.)
                           **********
     Method: In saucepan combine sugar, chocolate, and butter and
heat on medium, stirring constantly until mixture is completely
combined and liquid. Do not boil. Beat eggs well in small mixing
bowl. Add to chocolate mixture and stir until well blended. Add
flour slowly and combine well. Add vanilla and stir in. Pour
batter into greased and floured 9-by-13-inch cake pan and bake at
325 degrees for about thirty-five minutes. It is best to check
brownies at thirty minutes since some ovens cook a bit faster
than others. Take brownies out of oven while surface is still
slightly moist. This will ensure moister brownies. Note: The
batter is exceedingly good, so I recommend quietly licking the
bowl without telling the kids.
                           **********
                           **********
                       Monitor Miniatures
                           **********
A Federationist in Prime Time:
     If you were watching CBS's "60 Minutes 2" on Wednesday,
April 14, you saw a story about the Hairston family, both black
and white. One of the people interviewed and followed for the
story was our own Ever Lee Hairston, First Vice President of the
NFB of New Jersey. While we were attending the Washington Seminar
this year, a CBS camera crew came to film Ever Lee for this
segment. The finished story was very interesting, and Ever Lee's
poise and courage were powerfully revealed on camera. To learn
more about Ever Lee's adventures, see the article by Dr. John W.
Smith in the April, 1999, issue of the Braille Monitor.
                           **********
For Sale:
     We have been asked to carry the following announcement:

     Blazie Engineering Type 'n Speak, one owner for two years,
never used. Asking $1,000. For more information call Eldridge
Hardy at (334) 418-4940 or toll-free (877) 411-1661.
                           **********
Braille International, Inc., Seeks New President:
     We have been asked to carry the following announcement:

     Braille International, Inc. in Stuart, Florida is one of the
largest producers of Braille materials in the United States, and
indeed worldwide. The Board of Directors is seeking a new company
president. The job opens because of the planned retirement of the
incumbent. The ideal candidate will possess a wide range of
business and production skills in addition to the capacity to be
the organization's spokesperson in public relations and fund-
raising activities during a planned expansion of the company's
services. The position could also be attractive to a seasoned
executive interested in using his or her talents in a worthy
cause. Salary and benefits are commensurate with those of similar
small, not-for-profit organizations. Send replies and resumes to
Braille International, Inc., P.O. Box 1115, Stuart, FL 34995.
                           **********
Wink Services:
     We have been asked to carry the following announcement:

     Adelaide Wink's Practical Crafts is making baby sets, baby
afghans, and toddlers' sweaters. Call for prices and order
information.

     Awake and Hope is a Christian support group on cassette.
Topics include Quiet Corner, pen pals column, hymns and singing,
personal miracles, Bible study, job/business ideas, seek and
find, craft corner, cooking corner, pet corner, true needs, etc.
A monthly subscription is $12 per year (United States) and $24
overseas.

     Ms. Wink wishes to correspond with blind and deaf-blind
people who live in nursing homes, hospitals, and mental
institutions. Contact Adelaide E. Wink, 59 South Lee Street,
Beverly Hills, Florida 34465-9130.
                           **********
New Video Magnifier Available:
     Telesensory announced the first full-featured video
magnifier at this year's CSUN disability-industry convention in
Los Angeles. The Aladdin Companion weighs less than twenty pounds
and is a compact portable electronic magnifying device for people
with low vision (including those who are legally blind). The
Companion magnifies any printed or written material using a five-
to-one zoom lens. The unit includes built-in lighting, simplified
controls, a 9-inch CRT viewing screen, and a built-in handle. It
sells for $1,297. For additional information contact Keith
Blackey, Vice President Marketing at (800) 804-8004.
                           **********
Correspondents Wanted:
     I would like to correspond in Braille, on tape, or by e-mail
with people who are interested in music, sports, current news,
Romance languages, Biblical matters, or pop psychology. Contact
Rubens M. Marshall, Caixa Postal 1001, Campinas, Sao Paulo,
CEP:13013-070, Brazil, phone 019-232-2279, or e-mail
<marshall@supernet.com.br>.
                           **********
For Sale:
     We have been asked to carry the following announcement:

     I have the following Braille books for sale: Solutions
Access Technologies for Persons Who Are Blind by Olga Espinola
and Diane Croft, four-volume set, $12; Solutions (the same book
minus the volume of appendices), three-volume set, $11; and
Financing Adaptive Technology: a Guide to Sources and Strategies
for Blind and Visually Impaired Users by Steven B. Mendelsohn,
five-volumes bound with soft covers, $15. All books will be
shipped using the Free-Matter privilege on a first-come, first-
served basis after check or money order is received. Please
include your name, address, phone, and the specified book with
payment. Make payment to Marie Caputo, 470 Tunnel Road, Vernon,
Connecticut 06066.
                           **********
Products Available Online:
     We have been asked to carry the following announcement:

     Community Services for the Blind and Partially Sighted, a
nonprofit vision rehabilitation organization, has launched an
online store dedicated to providing products to those who are
living with vision loss. Visit the Web site not only to discover
products to assist those with vision loss but to explore links to
other resources and services. Visit <www.sightconnection.com> to
order online, or shop the old-fashioned way by requesting their
catalog. The phone number is (206) 525-5556 or (800) 458-4888.
The agency Web site is <www.csbps.com>.
                           **********
Printing Services Available:
     We have been asked to carry the following announcement:

     Braille and ink printing services available at economical
rates. For more information contact Tom Davis at (515) 262-2202
or e-mail <tshadow@cris.com>.
                           **********
For Sale:
     We have been asked to carry the following announcement:

     Forty-character Braille Window Braille display, manuals,
cables, and software included. In excellent condition, less than
six months old, $5,300 or best offer. Please contact Ann Durber,
(718) 335-1788, or write to Ann Durber, 63-25B Bourton Street,
1B, Rego Park, New York 11374.
                           **********
Mississippi School for the Blind Reunion:
     The Mississippi School for the Blind, formerly located on
Capers Avenue in Jackson, Mississippi, is having a reunion and
founders' day celebration. This event is scheduled for September
2 to 5, 1999. All former students who attended MSB at any time
period are invited to attend. For more information please contact
Barbara White Hadnott at 225 Dewitt Avenue, Jackson, Mississippi
39203, (601) 355-6318.
                           **********
New Cassette Magazine:
     We have been asked to carry the following announcement:

     Sanford Rosenthal invites you to join the Party Line, a
monthly cassette magazine. Get a free monthly subscription from
the Wilson Tape Lending Library Service, P.O. Box 1836, Mableton,
Georgia 30126. If you want to talk on the magazine, send a
ninety-minute cassette with your message (up to five minutes)
with a $6 annual contribution to Sanford Rosenthal, 3360 N.E.
33rd Street, Apartment 4, Fort Lauderdale, Florida 33308.
                           **********
[PHOTO/CAPTION: Beulah Sawyer]
Honored:
     An article appeared in the February 25, 1999, Beaufort
Gazette newspaper titled "Beulah Sawyer is named top ten national
community caretaker." The text reads in part:

     Beulah McCaston Sawyer of Beaufort, an advocate for the
blind, has been chosen as one of the top ten finalists of the
1998 Shaklee Community Caretaker Awards.

     Selected from nominations received from throughout the
nation, finalists receive a $1,000 contribution to be donated to
the nonprofit community organization of their choice. Sawyer has
donated her grant to the National Federation of the Blind, an
organization she helped to found in 1978.... Sawyer, who has a
long record of volunteer work in Beaufort, helped to begin the
Beaufort chapter, National Federation of the Blind, after she was
temporarily blinded during a fire. Although she continues to have
blurred vision, this does not stop her from driving patients,
delivering food, and writing grants to obtain more funding for
this organization.
                           **********
     Congratulations to Beulah and the Beaufort Chapter.
                           **********
New Web Address for Send Our Silks:
     John TeBockhorst, President of the Bix Beiderbecke Chapter
of the NFB of Iowa, reports that his business, SOS Silk Flowers,
has a new Web site address. The new address is
<www.sendoursilks.com>.
                           **********
Elected:
     At its fall, 1998, convention the NFB of Puerto Rico elected
several new officers. They are Tomas Cintron, Second Vice
President; Jose A. Rodriguez, Secretary; and Eduardo Gonzalez,
Ana Casilda Rodriguez, Marilu Torres, and Carmen Pantojas,
Members of the Board of Directors.
                           **********
Brailler Bargain:
     I have a Braillewriter to sell for a special low rate of
$25. Keep in mind that work as well as basic cleaning will cost
extra. Braillewriters can be shipped as free matter but must be
completely covered in plastic before carefully packing to prevent
damage.

     To make arrangements or to make further inquiry, phone Mary
Ann Lareau at (781) 899-3745 during normal work hours.
                           **********
Road Runner at Convention:
     We have been asked to carry the following announcement:

     Dr. Peter Scialli of Shrinkwrap Computer Products announces
a convention sale on the Road Runner, a tiny, portable reading
device that lets you store up to three thousand pages of text for
easy reading on the go. You must use the Road Runner in
conjunction with a computer. Whether you obtain reading material
with your scanner, from the Internet, from RFB and D, or from a
friend, the Road Runner, weighing just four ounces, will read to
you in a clear, synthetic voice. Read on a bus, on a plane, in a
waiting room--anywhere. You can hear a Real Audio demonstration
of the Road Runner on the company's Web site at
<http://www.readingmachines.com>. The Road Runner is on sale now
and through July 31, 1999, for $299. Look for Shrinkwrap and the
Road Runner at the NFB Convention in Atlanta; stop in and see
them. For more information contact Shrinkwrap Computer Products,
11706 Saddle Crescent Circle, Oakton, Virginia 22124, Phone,
(800) 377-0774, or e-mail <Shrink@erols.com>.
                           **********
Elected:
     The NFB of Oklahoma elected the following officers at its
annual convention: Steve Shelton, President; Nannette Murrin,
First Vice President; Ron Miller, Second Vice President; Janet
Triplett, Secretary; Joe Triplett, Treasurer; and Cordelia
Sanders and Sue Lee, Board Members.
                           **********
For Sale:
     We have been asked to carry the following announcement:

     Kerry Stein has the following items for sale: Braille 'n
Speak 640 with instruction manuals and adapter cables--$500 or
best offer; 40-cell, 8-dot Navigator with software, instruction
manuals, and adapter cables--make an offer; Cranmer Modified
Perkins Braille Embosser with instruction manuals and cables--
best offer. All equipment is in working condition. Contact me
weekdays at (205) 425-0800 or evenings and weekends at (205) 967-
4901.
                           **********
Talking Caller ID:
     We have been asked to carry the following announcement:

     Full Life Products introduces Model 560CW Talking Caller ID.
This model will speak the caller's ten-digit telephone number or
custom caller category. It works with call waiting deluxe; has a
new three-line LCD displaying name, number, date, and time; and
introduces a dial-back feature. Model 560CW stores the ninety-
nine most recent calls for visual and audible review and has
visual and audible message-waiting indicator, adjustable volume
control, one-touch audible new-call review, and more. The cost is
$49.95 plus shipping and handling. For more information call
(800) 400-1540 or <www.superproducts.com>.
                           **********
[PHOTO/CAPTION: Martha Harris]
Congratulations:
     Martha Harris, a Federation member from Altoona,
Pennsylvania, and the blind daughter of long-time Federationist
Catherine Harris, has been honored with three awards for her
performance on the bowling team for the Special Olympics. On
February 28, 1999, she won a gold medal in the local tournament.
On March 7 she won a first-place blue ribbon in the regional
tournament held in Clearfield, Pennsylvania. And on March 27 she
won a second-place silver medal in the central state tournament
held in Mechanicsburg, Pennsylvania. Martha Harris joined the
Special Olympics in September of 1998. Congratulations to her for
her excellence.
                           **********
Attention Those Working in Rehabilitation:
     Fatos Floyd of Nebraska and several other Federationists
invite everyone working in the rehabilitation field to get
together during convention to share information, ideas, and
strategies. The meeting will take place Saturday evening, July 3.
Be sure to listen during the general sessions that day for an
announcement of the exact time and place.
                           **********
                           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.
