                   THE PITFALLS OF COMPLACENCY
                         by Curtis Chong

     From the Associate Editor: Curtis Chong is the Vice
President of the National Federation of the Blind of Minnesota
and President of the National Federation of the Blind in Computer
Science, the computer science division of the National Federation
of the Blind. His experience with disabled student services
offices is unfortunately not uncommon. In the Spring, 1992, issue
of The Student Slate, the publication of the National Association
of Blind students, he wrote of his experience and warned his
readers of the pitfalls that can befall those who rely
unquestioningly on the services of disabled students offices.
Here is what he has to say: 

     Many years ago, when I first began attending the University
of Hawaii, I came across a program called Kokua. Kokua is a
Hawaiian word meaning "help." The espoused purpose of the Kokua
program was to help handicapped students attending the University
of Hawaii; and, since I was blind, I was eligible to receive the
help offered by the program.
     Kokua maintained a staff of college students who served
variously as readers, note takers, and guides. They were paid
with rehabilitation funds. Kokua staff, for example, would
perform the tedious and frustrating tasks involved in
registration. Instead of having to stand in line for hours in a
large and crowded gymnasium to register, blind students had
merely to provide the helpful Kokua staff with the list of
classes they wanted to take, and, presto! they were registered.
     Much of the time of the Kokua student staff was used
recording college textbooks. The service was so efficient that
blind students never had to find out during the previous semester
what texts were going to be used for the current semester; Kokua
had enough student readers available to tape books on demand.
Most blind students at the University of Hawaii loved the Kokua
program. It did everything for them. They didn't have to plan
ahead to have books taped. They never had to hire their own
readers. They didn't have to stand in long registration lines.
When tests needed to be taken, everything was handled by Kokua.
Blind students didn't even have to learn how to travel
independently; there was always a guide available to take them
from class to class. 
     In short, blind students at the University of Hawaii became
complacent, taking the services they received for granted.
Perhaps even more tragic, many of them failed to recognize that
their complacency was ruining their long-term prospects for a
successful and productive future.
     Consider the hiring of readers. The students employed by the
Kokua program were paid for with rehabilitation funds. In fact,
by the time I began attending the University of Hawaii, blind
students were expressly prohibited from using rehabilitation
funds to pay for their own personal readers. They were required
to use the services of the Kokua staff. Thus, they were deprived
of the invaluable experience of seeking out, hiring, supervising,
and occasionally firing personal readers.
     Many blind students never learned to be independent
travelers, preferring instead to depend upon the helpful guides
furnished to them by Kokua. Never venturing into unfamiliar
territory on their own, they necessarily limited their prospects
for future employment.
     Each and every blind student on the University of Hawaii
campus was regarded as a non-entity by most of the professors on
campus. When a question came up about how a blind student would
take a test, professors would invariably consult with the Kokua
office rather than with the blind student. In fact, the Kokua
staff members, not blind students, were consulted concerning all
problems on campus involving blindness.
     There were a few blind students on the University of Hawaii
campus, including me, who recognized the existence of the problem
and tried to deal with it. The system was, however, deeply
entrenched, and our efforts were hampered by the fact that we
were working in opposition to the basic desires of the many blind
students who wanted to have things as easy as possible.
Nevertheless, we did manage to achieve a small measure of
success. We were able to establish a study area for blind
students in one of the university's libraries, independent of the
Kokua office. This allowed blind students to study on campus
after Kokua staff locked up at 5:00 p.m. Additionally, we were
able to prevail upon the state rehabilitation agency for the
blind to permit rehabilitation funds to be used to pay for
readers hired by individual blind students. 
     Back when I first started going to college, programs like
Kokua were in the minority. Today, just about every major college
campus in the country has some form of office specifically
designed for students with disabilities. Some are more positive
than others. It is human nature to take the easy way out and to
let such offices do everything: recruit and hire readers, guide
students from class to class, determine how tests will be taken,
and provide staff to accomplish the tedious activities of course
registration. Now as never before, blind students cannot afford
to be complacent. For if they rely upon disabled student offices
to handle even the most rudimentary aspects of their education,
they will be selling themselves short and denying their
tremendous potential to achieve true equality with their sighted
peers.
     If you are attending a college or university with an office
for disabled students, ask yourself whether or not it is
providing its services in a manner calculated to promote true
independence. Is it encouraging students to gain invaluable
expertise in the management of sighted readers? Are students
expected to travel about campus independently? Are college
professors encouraged to deal directly with the blind students in
their classes instead of going to the office for disabled
students? Are blind students expected to handle registration
activities for themselves? If these questions cannot be answered
in the affirmative, blind students must take immediate action to
correct the situation.
     Blind students cannot afford to permit complacency and the
natural desire to take the easy way out to bolster an environment
which encourages dependence, laziness, and irresponsibility. In
today's corporate world there are no special services available
to blind employees. Although my employer, IDS Financial Services,
chose to purchase some assistive technology for me once I proved
I could do the job of systems programming, company officials
would laugh at the suggestion that a staff of readers and guides
be made available to a blind employee. I am expected to travel
anywhere to obtain technical training, and I am expected to
manage my own sighted readers. IDS is not unique in this regard.
     It is vitally important for college students to develop
basic skills in independent travel, management of readers, and
execution of their own college affairs; and it is critical that
these skills be learned before or during college. Failure to
develop these skills at the right time can and often does result
in the loss of a paying job.
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