[blindkid] Tactile markings at school

[Carrie Gilmer]

Dear Doug,
Before asking any questions or offering advice I would ask you to read the
following excerpt from an article by Dr. Fred Schroeder (the entirety of
which can be found at nfb.org and Expectations: The Critical Factor in the
Education of Blind Children is I believe the title). Then if you still want
to build a tactile path, I would talk some more with you. In the end, I
would say I understand your thinking now but think farther, much farther.
There are not personally made tactile paths in the world, she will however
be able to distinguish her own if given the chance to learn to do so. 

 "School personnel had some initial difficulty adjusting to these changes. I
remember the principal's telling me that we needed to build a sidewalk
leading from the main building to the swings. She said that our students
liked to swing during recess; but, since we no longer let them go early, the
swings were all taken by the time they arrived. She thought a sidewalk would
help them find the swings more quickly. When I asked how the children were
currently getting to the swings, she told me that they had been taught to
trail the fence around the perimeter of the playground. At the point closest
to the swings, a rag had been tied into the chain-link fence. When they
found the rag, the children were to stand with their backs to the fence and
walk straight out to find the swings. No wonder our children were always the
last to arrive at the swings.

I told her that what the children needed was, not a sidewalk across the
playground, but more practice orienting themselves in large open spaces.
When leaving the building, the children should head out across the
playground in the general direction of the swings. Over time they would
learn to recognize certain natural landmarks such as other playground
equipment and slopes in the ground. With practice they would get better at
judging the distance and direction to travel. Additionally, since swings are
a high-interest activity stimulating much competition, our students would
have to be quick if they were to nab a swing. 

The principal was apprehensive at the prospect of a half dozen blind
children running at top speed with their canes in a crowd of three hundred
youngsters. What she had not considered was that, when the recess bell rang,
there were three hundred children running at top speed, but they were all
running in the same direction--from the building onto the playground.
Expecting that the blind children in our program could compete on terms of
real equality and giving them the tools to make it possible, we found that
they met and surpassed our expectations. When the blind children in our
program first learned to use canes, we did not teach them to run. They
taught themselves to run because they felt a compelling need to get to the
swings first. When they were released early from class, they walked slowly
and carefully-- those with some sight helping those with none. They had no
need to run and no belief that they could. When they learned to use canes
and went to recess with everyone else, they found a need to run and hence
learned to do so. 

But this was only the beginning. Sometimes they weren't fast enough.
Sometimes the swings were all taken when they got there. Consequently, they
looked for other things to do. They found and used other pieces of
playground equipment. They met other children and made new friends. They
began to believe that they were normal children; acted accordingly; and, as
a result, were viewed by others as normal.

We also stopped the practice of letting the children go early to lunch. We
taught them how to get in line with the other children and use their canes
(gently) to keep track of the person in front of them. We taught them how to
carry a tray while using a cane and how to find an empty seat. Finally, we
taught them to bus their own trays on their way out of the lunchroom. By
being part of the crowd, they naturally ended by sitting with a variety of
students, which contributed to expanded circles of friends.

In academic areas we applied the same fundamental belief in the basic
equality of our students. When I was in graduate school, the concept of
social integration was very popular. The basic concept was that placing
blind children in an age- appropriate setting, we were assured, would
facilitate social integration. Yet this concept was incompatible with our
overall philosophy. If we believed that blind children were normal and that,
given proper training, they could compete on terms of equality, then social
integration would send a contradictory message. If blind children are in
classrooms and unable to perform the same work as the other students, how
can they learn to believe that they are equal? 

We determined, therefore, to concentrate first on the skills of blindness
and mainstream children only in those areas in which their skills allowed
them to function competitively. This meant that our children received
intensive training in Braille reading and writing, as well as training in
typing, handwriting, use of the abacus, and of course cane travel. As
children were able to read at grade level, they were integrated into
language arts and social studies. As they became skilled in the use of the
abacus, they were integrated into math. Consequently, they were able to
perform competitively and thereby internalize a vision of themselves as
inherently normal. 

Let me reiterate that the key was not the educational placement; the
critical element was our belief in their essential normalcy and the tangible
demonstration of our belief through our actions. By believing in blind
children and having high expectations for them, we enabled them consistently
to reach and surpass our expectations. 

One day one of our students came to his teacher to complain that his friends
had begun playing tag during recess. When playing tag, one child is "it,"
and his or her objective is to tag or touch another child, thereby making
the other child "it." Since none of the children wishes to be "it," the game
moves at a fast pace. The problem for a blind child is that it is difficult
to know who "it" is at any given moment and, more important, where "it" is.
This blind child complained that, since he didn't know where "it" was, he
didn't know which way to run and thus spent much of the game being "it." 

We had spent considerable time and energy convincing our children that they
were normal and could compete on terms of equality. We had taught them
through our words and deeds that, given the right training, they could
function competitively with their sighted peers. We now had a seven-year-old
putting our philosophy to the test. In the game of tag he didn't feel very
equal, yet he had an expectation that he was capable of full participation,
so he came to us in the absolute certainty that a technique must exist which
would allow him to compete. After considerable soul-searching, we determined
to talk to the youngster and explain to him that the world had been
constructed largely by the sighted with sight in mind, and after all there
are some things that the blind cannot do (such as driving) because the
activity itself is premised on the ability of the driver to see. We hoped we
could explain to him that tag was like driving--constructed by the sighted
for the sighted and that it did not mean that he was inferior. We hoped that
we could explain, in a way that a seven-year-old would understand, that the
blind were not less capable merely because there were some activities in
which sight was an overwhelming advantage. 

In the meantime this young fellow had grown tired of waiting for us to come
up with a solution. He believed he was as capable as anyone else and
believed that full participation was a product of having or thinking up the
right technique. He realized he could not see, but, rather than feeling bad
about it, he had learned to meet the situation head-on. Soon thereafter,
before we had a chance to talk with him, he came to school with a small
glass jar. At recess he put a few pebbles in it and replaced the lid. He
told his friends that, when they were playing tag, whoever was "it" had to
shake the jar; and, if he or she did not, the tag did not count. He still
did not know who "it" was, but at least he knew where "it" was. 

All of us with our master's degrees and years of experience were prepared to
sell a seven-year-old blind child short--not out of malice, poor training,
or even lack of imagination. Presumably as a group we had at least average
powers of creativity. What limited us was a subtle, almost unrecognizable,
internalization of society's diminished view of blindness. Even though we
actively worked to promote a positive philosophy of blindness, we were
subject to the negative conditioning of society. No matter how hard we
fought it, we were still ready to accept partial participation while
intellectually wishing to believe in full participation. 

This student solved his own problem primarily because he believed in
himself. The critical factor was his own expectation and fundamental belief
in himself as a blind person. He believed that he was equal and acted
accordingly. He would not settle for a lesser role but thought and
questioned and tried until he had an answer. Our challenge is to develop a
clear vision in ourselves of what we believe about blindness. We must
replace our generalized belief in blind children with a fundamental belief.
This represents an overarching philosophy guiding our programs but, more
important, guiding our expectations. If we have a clear vision of what blind
children can achieve, they will invariably reach and surpass our highest
expectations for them.

Inevitably our programs and services develop from our beliefs, explicitly
and implicitly reflecting our expectations. The real problem with today's
programs for blind children is their lack of an effective philosophy.
Education of the blind has become trapped by its own thinking, which has
resulted in a system in which children are encouraged to progress from where
they are, without a vision of where we want them to be. We have become
complacent, using progress as our measure of success. We have taken this
lack of clear vision and embraced it as a virtue. We have become the
champions of individualized programs without clearly defined expectations.
Yet doing better today than yesterday is simply not good enough. By using
progress as the measure of success, we mislead ourselves into believing that
our educational systems are working effectively. The real problem of a
generalized belief in blind people is that it lacks definition. The progress
measure of success rewards forward movement irrespective of whether it is
constructive."

 
Carrie Gilmer, President
Minnesota Organization of Parents of Blind Children

-----Original Message-----
From: blindkid-bounces at nfbnet.org [mailto:blindkid-bounces at nfbnet.org] On
Behalf Of Doug Gottschlich
Sent: Tuesday, December 01, 2009 10:18 PM
To: blindkid at nfbnet.org
Subject: [blindkid] Tactile markings at school

Hi Everybody,

My daughter (8 yr old; 3rd grade; no vision) started at a new school this
year.  To get from the school to the lunchroom she needs to cross a large
blacktop area; there is only a narrow path (~ 5 feet wide) between the
various sports areas (volley ball, tether ball).  Due to the arrangement of
the school grounds there is no good way around the perimeter of the
blacktop, and it is too large just to try to walk a straight line across it
without some reference.

So that she does not need to depend on human guides, the school has agreed
to install a tactile path/trail/guide across the blacktop.  The path needs
to be low profile so kids don't trip over it as they play and run on the
blacktop.  We have thought of a narrow groove(s) that she can feel with her
cane, a mild hump that she can follow with her cane, sets of truncated domes
(probably harder to track with her cane).

Does anyone have experience with a tactile paths like this?  Any other ideas
for the path than I mentioned above?

Any suggestions would be appreciated.

Doug
_______________________________________________
blindkid mailing list
blindkid at nfbnet.org
http://www.nfbnet.org/mailman/listinfo/blindkid_nfbnet.org
To unsubscribe, change your list options or get your account info for
blindkid:
http://www.nfbnet.org/mailman/options/blindkid_nfbnet.org/carrie.gilmer%40gm
ail.com