[il-talk] Fwd: an article that I think is totally detrimental towards blindness

[Robert A. Hansen]

Comments, reactions?  The floor is open for a heated discussion.

Robert






Sent from Samsung tablet  roberthansen1970 at gmail.com

-------- Original message --------
Subject:an article that I think is totally detrimental towards blindness
From:"Robert A. Hansen" <roberthansen1970 at gmail.com>
To:Robert Hansem <roberthansen33 at yahoo.com>
Cc:

Nude Modeling: Going in Blind
; Fink*
At hrst I wasn't sure about taking a nude modeling job. ! knew Mike 
never expected me to answer the want ad. I think he'd read U to me as a 
sort of joke, trying to lighten up the dark mood that sets in every time 
I start looking for work.
I was working full-time and studying for a master's degree when I lost 
my sight. Job interviews since then have centered on Braille, tape 
recorders, and talking computers. Employers erd up fascinated with the 
technology, yet unsure about my capabilities.
It's been rough to be rejected over and over again for jobs I know I am 
more than qualified for. That's why the nude modeling idea appealed to 
me. No need to explain technology at this interview. For once, I 
wouldn't have to beg them to see past my blindness. Sight is unnecessary 
when all you're doing is letting art students draw you whileyou stand on 
a tabletop without" any clothes on.
In fact, that's the concept I tried repeating any time •[ felt any 
anxiety about this job. "C'mon, Beth," I'd say to myself. "You'll just 
be standing there naked." Too often, unfortunately. this phrase got 
shortened to a repetitious mantra:
"Naked."
"Naked."
"Naked."
"Naked."
"Naked."
"Naked."
When I was in college, I used to set rny alarm extra early in order to 
get into the communal shower room and have it to myself. It xvas years 
after I was married before I finally quit wearing flannel nightgowns to 
bed. At home I stiil dress and undress behind a closed bathroom door, 
and everi when \ve lived in a very isolated house on the outer banks of 
North Carolina, 1 never walked around undressed;
When I mentioned this nude modeling idea to a few
"You'll be perfect!" they laughed. "You won't even see the students 
staring at you. It won't bother you at all that you 're up there naked,"
Somehow 1 disagreed. Whether I could see myself or not, I'd know my 
clothes were off And I'd know the students would know I was naked-
Making all this worse was the paranoia I've developed since losing my sight.
I always think people are staring at me: If Dora, my see-ing-eye dog, 
makes a wrong move and I have to correct her, I'm sure every eye is on 
us. When I fumble to find a doorknob, I know everyone is watching and 
pitying me. I hate the feeling that people are watching me without me 
being aware of it.
Why on earth would I accept a job that required me to be stared at?
But then I wondered: Could it feel okay as long as I knew that watching 
me was what. they were MipptMed to be doing? Maybe those laughing 
friends were right. Maybe it'd be «wy to stand naked in front of people 
now that I can't see myself anymore, can't see them looking at me? Could 
nude modeling turn out to be yet another thing I could do as a blind 
person that I never couid do when I could see? Was it possible that 
someday I would find standing naked on a tabletop as easy as reading 
Braille in an elevator? 1 had to find out.
I grabbed Dora's harness and walked to the art and design building, 
armed with questions about the want ad in the paper.
What a pleasure it was to have a potential employer welcome my interest!
"We're short on models this year," -I was told. Til help you fill out an 
application ifyou're interested."
The application was short, with questions about my
weight, my height, and my skin color. Nothing was ever said. about the 
fact that I was blind. The only bothersome" ques-
and had to admit I'd just turned 40. The interviewer mentioned how nice 
it would be to have a middle-aged model.
1 let the comment slide by. If they wanted a middle-aged model, I'd be a 
middle-aged model.
The audition for the job took place the next week in front of four art 
instructors and the receptionist who had helped me fill out the 
application. We women who had applied came to the art room with a robe m 
our backpacks. We undressed in a separate room, put our robes on, and 
gathered again in the art room. One by one we were asked to stand on a 
four-foot-by-five-foot tabletop, take off our robes, and do different 
poses. As the first woman stepped onto the tabletop, I sat quietly 
waiting lor my turn, questioning whether I'd lowered myself to something 
here. Or was this just another opportunity that would have never come my 
way if I hadn't gone blind?
I often think of my blindness this way. That is, if I hadn't lost my 
sight, ! wouldn't have learned how lovely it is to walk arm-and-arm with 
friends all the time, how rewarding it is not to judge folks by what 
they look like.
I would have never had a black Lab, and I would still be relying on 
sheet music rather than'playing the piano by ear.
These thoughts were interrupted when the art instructor asked who wanted 
to be next. "Me!" I called out. I was eager to get this over with. I 
jumped up and asked my dog to take me forward. The tabletop .was just 
about the same height as tlie one at the vet's office. Dora decided- to 
stay seated on the floor. I was a little disappointed, as I thought 
having a dog up there might distract the art instructors from 
concentrating on me.
There was a stepstool there to help us onto the platform, but I avoided it.
With my robe still on, I backed up to the table and
hitched myself up instead. Crouching down, I felt the table-top's edges 
to be sure I wouldn't fall off. Finally centering myself on the 
tabletop, I stood up and unbuttoned my robe. I was told to strike six 
poses, eventually ending up in a reclining position.
If I had been able to see that first model do her audition, I might have 
had a better idea of what was expected. I was suddenly so concerned with 
which six different poses to take that I forgot I was naked up there. I 
passed the audition, but not due to my grace. All I could figure was 
that the department was pretty desperate for models. They seemed 
particularly interested m me for my age and my willingness to work 
mornings. Most models are students who would rather not wake up early.
After surviving the audition, I figured I'd probably take the job and 
see how it turned out. Modeling wouldn't start right away, so I still 
had a few weeks to think It over. And to train Dora to jump up on a 
tabletop.
The sheet of rules they gave us at the audition wasn't available in 
Braille, so one of the professors read it out loud.
Weeks later, as I get ready at home to go to my very first modeling 
session, I can only conjure up three things from that long list:
1. Do not stare at the art students as they work. For me, this will be 
no problem;
2. Be on time. This could be a problem on days I have to walk to work. 
But for today, MikeJias agreed to drive me to the studio. This, even 
though he's still nol crazy about my standing nude on a pedestal 
surrounded by college students; and
3. Be clean. Again, this shouldn't be a problem. I shower every morning, 
modeling nude or not.
My showers are usually quick ones, soapy hands brushing over spare fire 
and love bandies as tasras'Tcah.'One d~T the advantages of becoming 
blind is the inability to look in full-length mirrors. I was a slim and 
trim 26-year-old when I lost my sight, and if I shower quickly, avoiding 
pinching any inches along the way, I have the luxury of still picturing 
myself looking the way I did m my 20s. And on days 1 can't completely 
convince myself of this fantasy, I imagine that the clothes I choose do 
wonders to hide any middle-age spread.
But the jig's up once I take my clothes off in front of this art class 
today. They'll notice every lump and layer of fat.
And. this morning, in the shower, so do I. The shower ends up being a 
long one. Exploring all those bulges takes time. So does contemplating 
just how I'll feel with all those students scrutinizing my pear-shaped 
body in their attempts to recreate it on paper.
Shower finally over, I head for the coffee maker, remembering to limit 
myself to a half-cup. Standing still and naked in front of people is 
going to be hard enough. Standing still and naked while having to pee is 
something nightmares are made of.
Sucking ever)' last drop from the mug cradled in my hands, I am finally 
able to conjure up some of the more reassuring things that were said at 
our audition. "The art students will, think of you models the same way 
medical students think of the naked bodies they work with," claimed one 
professor. "It's all very professional."
Another professor pointed out that a tot of the students would be 
freshmen and not yet very .sure of themselves as artists. "Add to that 
the fact that they've probably never been in a room with a naked 
stranger before," he said, "and you'll realize they'll be a lot more 
nervous than you'll be."
(continued on page 10)



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Some websites I recommend are

www.wzrdchicago.org
WZRD 88.3fm  Chicago's home of freeform programming

www.democracynow.org  for a truly independent voice in media

www.fsrn.org  A unique voice for news

www.dishnuts.net for some awesome freeform internet talk and music and other assorted content

www.wtnd.us
An independent radio station WTND-LP 106.3fm in Macomb, IL


www.nfb.org  The largest organization of the nation's blind

www.aa.org if you need help learning to live on life's terms