[il-talk] The Illinois Independent, Summer 2014
Deborah Kent Stein
dkent5817 at att.net
Fri Jun 27 19:43:23 UTC 2014
THE ILLINOIS INDEPENDENT
Summer 2014
Editor: Deborah Kent Stein
President: Patti Gregory-Chang
CONTACT INFORMATION
President: Patti Gregory-Chang, (773) 307-6440, pattischang at gmail.com
Editor: Deborah Kent Stein, (773) 203-1394, dkent5817 at att.net
Formatting: Janna Stein
Newsline (R) Edition, David Meyer, (708) 209-1767, datemeyer at sbcglobal.net
Print Edition and Braille Edition: Bill Reif, (217) 801-2996,
billreif at ameritech.net
Proofreaders: Meg Dowell, Steve Hastalis, Glenn Moore, Bill Reif, Brianna
Lillyman
Website: Byron Lee and Greg Rosenberg, Webmasters, www.nfbofillinois.org
webmaster at nfbofillinois.org
A NOTE FROM THE EDITOR
What is the Illinois Independent, you may be asking yourself. Whatever
happened to the Braille Examiner?
At its last meeting, the Newsletter Committee decided that it is time for
our publication to have a fresh name, a name that will better reflect our
purpose and philosophy. We also wanted a name that would let out-of-state
readers know which affiliate the newsletter represents. Several good
possibilities were suggested, and the committee chose Illinois Independent
above all the others.
I hope you enjoy the Summer 2014 issue of the Illinois Independent!
TABLE OF CONTENTS
A Letter from the President, by Patti Gregory-Chang
Memories of My Father, Part One, by Dutch tenBroek
Proctors and Problems: My First Experience with a Certification Exam, by
David Meyer
Travels in Tunisia, by Brianna Lillyman
iBRAL Is Here, by Robert Gardner
Ring the BELL in Illinois, by Debbie Kent Stein
Finding Apps with VIA, by Denise Avant
Tips and Tricks: Straight Street Crossings, by Leslie Hamric
A Father's Tribute, by Mike McDermott
Allen Glickman: In Memoriam, by Steve Hastalis
* * * * * * *
A LETTER FROM THE PRESIDENT
by Patti Gregory-Chang
In just a few days many of us will head for Orlando, Florida, to take part
in the 2014 convention of the National Federation of the Blind. Our national
convention will help us focus on the recent achievements and current
concerns of blind people across the country. While our national initiatives
are extremely important, much of the work that sustains our movement goes on
at the state and chapter levels. In this article I will report on the work
we have been doing here in Illinois over the past several months and discuss
our plans for the months ahead.
PROGRAMS
In 2013 we in the NFB of Illinois (NFBI) achieved one of our long-term
goals. We sponsored our first BELL (Braille Enrichment for Literacy and
Learning) Program. Five of our BELL families attended our 2013 state
convention. As I write this article, our 2014 BELL program is underway.
Please see the article on BELL elsewhere in this issue.
The NFBI also reached out to families and teachers of blind and visually
impaired students through our spring teacher/parent seminar, "Making It
Happen," which was held in Chicago on the weekend of April 4 and 5. Our
student chapter, the Illinois Association of Blind Students (IABS), hosted a
day-long conference in conjunction with the parents seminar. It was the
first ever NFB conference for students throughout the Great Lakes region. In
addition to students from Illinois, we were thrilled to welcome several
participants from Indiana, Wisconsin, and Michigan.
Almost one hundred people registered for the combined seminars, including
ten children who took part in Kids' Camp. Among our program items were
demonstrations of the One-Touch Self Defense system and presentations on
managing classroom aides, teaching math, and using access technology. Edward
Bell, director of the Professional Development and Research Institute on
Blindness (PDRIB) at Louisiana Tech University, was our keynote speaker.
Thanks to the hard work of Byron Lee, we were able to accept online
applications for the first time ever. We could even receive PayPal payments!
This new capability will be of enormous benefit to us as we plan future
events.
Our 2013-2014 Freedom Link program is drawing to a close. Freedom Link is a
transitions club for blind students in middle school and high school. The
students meet monthly with a group of blind mentors. Each meeting is
structured around a field trip that builds mobility skills and confidence.
The program runs from September through August, and this year nine students
took part. Our 2014-2015 Freedom Link application and flier are posted on
the Freedom Link page of our NFB of Illinois website. While you're there,
check out the audio thank-you note some of this year's group members sent to
our wonderful Freedom Link benefactor, Mrs. Charlotte Lindon.
Illinois sent nine representatives to our 2014 Washington Seminar, where
they met with representatives and congressional aides to discuss issues of
immediate concern. Our meetings with both senators were some of the most
productive I have ever experienced.
Follow-up after Washington Seminar is always critical. Our members have met
with some of our congressmen on the issues, and they have also written
dozens of letters. As of this writing on June 20, six Illinois
represenatives have signed onto HB 831, the Fair Wages for Workers with
Disabilities Act. Annette Grove, Bob Gardner, and Glenn Moore are
coordinating our follow-up efforts.
COMMUNICATIONS
Our NFBI website, www.nfbofillinois.org, has loads of content. It is updated
regularly with state and national news, and you can check out our upcoming
meetings and events on our calendar page. There are many ways you can help
us enhance our website. We invite you to post photos, to review old links,
and to update the calendar.
The NFB of Illinois has increased its presence on Facebook. We now have a
parents' group and a parents' page as well as a page for our BELL program.
IABS has a group, and it regularly uses the event feature. Of course, we
still have our NFBI group. Just search on National Federation of the Blind
of Illinois to join. We have more than 150 members now.
We're also active on Twitter. Our Twitter username is "#NFBI." We post
several tweets per week and gain two or more followers weekly. If I don't
post when I am serving as national rep in other states, certain people give
me grief. Now I post directly from the podium. Others post meetings and the
like. We retweet many national happenings.
Besides presenting information, our Illinois listserv (il-talk at nfb.org),
provoke some interesting debates. We have talked about such topics as
parenting issues and driver's license requirements on employment
applications. We also encourage each other's accomplishments such as
independent travel, Braille reading, cooking, and employment advances.
Leslie Hamric announced her new business selling makeup, and Linda Hendle
updates us on the travel challenges she has tackled. The listserv is an
especially good networking tool for those who do not live near other active
blind people. You can sign up for IL-Talk by visiting www.nfbnet.org.)
COMMITTEES
Many of our committees meet on a regular basis and work tirelessly
throughout the year. Our Renewal Committee shares ideas on drawing in new
members. Our Public Relations Committee has stepped up its activities,
posting regular announcements about upcoming programs and events. Robert
Hansen reaches out to the general public through his radio programs on WZRD.
One area where I think we need to become more active and effective is state
legislation. This means that we all need to help the Legislative Committee
move our agenda forward.
Of special note is our Transportation Committee. Members have been attending
meetings with Chicago Transit Authority (CTA), Regional Transit Authority
(RTA), and the Mayor's Office for People with Disabilities (MOPD). In the
Greater Chicago area NFBI is active around issues pertaining to the new
VENTRA Cards and accessible fare machines for cabs. Initially the volume on
the VENTRA fare machines that cover CTA, PACE, and RTA was set too low. We
are still working on the problem of fast entry times with VENTRA's automated
phone prompts. At present it is almost impossible to read the card number in
Braille and enter information on the keypad without being timed out.
Furthermore, Kelly Pierce informs me that the VENTRA website has some issues
that bar those using screen readers from accurately adding money to their
cards.
Steve Hastalis has been working on accessible fare machines for cabs. Some
companies claim that their machines provide "some audio output." Some access
is not good enough! We need the same level of access to information that is
available to sighted users. Some companies simply do not offer audio access
at all. Personally, I am quite amused by the number of times companies
cancel public presentations when they find out that representatives from the
NFB of Illinois will attend. I wonder if this has to do with the fact that
they know they are not as accessible as they claim to be. Such cancelations
have happened at least three times so far.
Our Advocacy Committee has helped many families and individuals. We handle
everything from rehab questions and school concerns to employment and guide
dog issues. Recently we assisted someone who had been fired after years of
successful work. The employer discovered that the employee is blind and
fired him over alleged safety issues. We have also attended IEP meetings and
provided information regarding guide dog discrimination issues.
Our scholarship and internship programs continue to absorb much of our time
and monetary resources. The NFBI Scholarship Committee has selected three
finalists. They will receive their awards after they attend the NFBI
convention. Ashley Griggs, a student from Illinois who is studying music at
East Tennessee University, will be doing a summer internship at a Montessori
school in Chicago.
With the support of our Braille Committee, our focus on Braille holds strong
for those who wish to learn and/or to improve their reading skills. The
correlation between Braille and gainful employment is undeniable. Our LIFE
group works with our own members, while the BELL Program and Illinois
Braille Readers are Leaders (iBRAL) reach out to Illinois children. To learn
more about iBRAL, see the article elsewhere in this issue.
CHAPTER ACTIVITIES
Our NFBI Chicago Chapter has expanded by absorbing many new active members.
IABS, our student chapter, in conjunction with the student chapter from
Indiana, is planning a summer outing for high school and college students.
Our At Large Chapter continues to draw those we could not otherwise serve. I
expect that At Large will be sending members to our conventions. The
Bloomington/Normal Chapter just held its first fundraising event. They
brought in two hundred dollars through a bowlathon.
FUNDRAISING
One area that needs improvement in the NFBI is fundraising. Recently we were
forced to cut back some of our programs to avoid a major budget deficit. We
all need to raise money so we can avoid further cuts. We welcome ideas and
participation.
POLICYMAKING
The NFBI serves on the State Rehabilitation Council (SRC), the Blind
Services Planning Council (BSPC), and the Library Advisory Boards. It is
important that we maintain our seats on these panels, even though we do not
always see immediate results. If we do not do so, we cannot maintain our
high profile as a major player when it comes to blindness issues in
Illinois.
Our 2014 NFBI convention will be held in Naperville from October 31st to
November 2. We are already looking into locations for 2015.
FINAL THOUGHTS
I want to close with a short essay that I read a few years ago. It remains
one of my favorites.
"We were saddened this year to learn of the death of our most valued
volunteer, Someone Else.
Someone's passing created a void that will be difficult to fill. élse had
been with us for years. For every one of those years Someone did far more
than a normal person's share of the work.
Whenever leadership was mentioned, this wonderful person was looked up to
for inspiration as well as results.
Someone Else can work with that group.
Whenever there was a job to do, a seminar to plan, a meeting to attend,
or time to spend with a person in need of companionship,
one name was always on every list. Let Someone Else do it.
It was common knowledge that Someone Else was generous with donations.
Whenever there was a financial need, everyone just assumed that Someone Else
would make up the difference.
Were the truth known, everyone expected too much of Someone Else.
Now Someone Else is Gone.
We wonder what we are going to do. Someone Else left a model example to
follow, but who will do the things Someone Else did?"
Please think about your participation in the NFB of Illinois. We all need to
look to ourselves more than Someone Else. Step up on fundraising and
legislative issues. Those are areas where we need your help to improve.
Finally, as many of you know, I am not planning to run for NFBI president
again in 2014. I am supporting Denise Avant for that position. Denise has
spent many hours learning how to run our affiliate, and she is preeminently
qualified to do the job. Thanks to all of you for the opportunity to serve
as president. I will continue to serve in other capacities. NFB is in my
blood as it is in yours.
* * * * * * *
MEMORIES OF DAD, Part One
by Dutch tenBroek
[This article is based upon Dutch tenBroek's presentation at the 2013
convention of the NFB of Illinois. Part Two of this article will appear in
the next issue of the newsletter.]
My dad was born in Alberta, Canada. His father built the first frame house
in Alberta Province. When Dad became blind, the family moved to a farm in
the San Joaquin Valley of California. They settled in and around Layton near
Fresno. My father attended the California School for the Blind. Dr. Newell
Perry was his mentor at the school. Our first son is named Jacobus Newell
Perry in his honor.
Dad was about six feet three inches tall and built like a lineman in
professional football. He had a stubborn streak in him, and he believed
there was nothing he could not do. Most of you know he was a professor at
the University of California. He taught speech and political science, but he
is best known outside the NFB as a constitutional lawyer.
Many of you are aware that Dad has set the vision and standard for this
organization. Most of you are not aware, however, that in the early 1950s
Dad started a fashion trend that would catch fire in the last few years of
the century. Unlike the kids of today, Dad had thought through the why of
this style. I am wearing a denim train engineer's hat. Every time Dad went
out to work in the yard, he wore this hat. And he always wore it with the
bill pointed backwards, covering his neck. He did it to protect his neck
from the sun. I am not sure why the kids of today wear their hats backward.
I wish I could tell you how Dad came upon the hat, but I have no idea.
One day when I was young, it was very hot; I was going to jump into an ice
cold shower to cool off. Dad stopped me on the way to the shower and told me
a story. One hot day on the farm, their China pig was making noise. Dad
thought it was in distress and threw cold water on it—killing the pig. When
I got in the shower it was not ice cold.
Dad did all the things his siblings did. He had chores on the farm, swam in
the local creek, and mucked out stalls. He even liked to ride a bike. His
sisters tied tin cans on strings and attached them to the backs of their
bikes. Dad would follow the sound as he rode on his bike. One day the string
on the back of Aunt Lil's bike broke and the cans went down into a ditch. So
did Dad.
I met my cousin Patty about three years ago. She told me the story that
every time they visited the farm, she would do her best to sneak up on Dad
while he was milking the cows. She would get within about two feet of him,
and he would say, "Patty, what are you doing?" This went on for years, and
she never figured out how he knew.
The house I grew up in was huge. It was built on the site of an old rock
crusher. It was vertical, four stories high, with the kitchen on the top
floor and the bedrooms on the bottom two floors. My bedroom on the bottom
floor was about twenty feet above the ground. There was some level ground on
the front of the lot, but most of the lot was vertical. The rocks were mined
from a quarry at the top of the hill.
When a realtor took Dad to the house, Dad took one look around the living
room and said, "We will take it." The living room/study area was forty-six
by fifty feet. It was a split-level with seven steps in the middle. I
remember one day Dad taught one of his upper-level classes of about fifty
students in the living room, with the students sitting on the steps. My
brother, sister, and I used to take a cushion off the window seat in the
upper level and use it to slide down the steps. In the center of the upper
level was the biggest fireplace I have ever seen. The opening was about six
feet across.
I think the best way for me to describe how our house fit on the lot is to
ask you to imagine sitting on your bed with your pillow wrapped around you.
Your pillow wraps from your left side around your back to your right side.
Our house was the trunk of your body, with the majority of our lot the
pillow. So the lot was basically vertical, with the flat part of the lot
where your legs would be if you were sitting on your bed.
In the early 1950s the Federation was going to build an office on some of
the flat space in front of our house. Many Federationists showed up one
weekend to help clear the ground and area for the new construction. The new
building would be built up against the hill to the south of our house.
About thirty feet up were some plane trees growing vertically out of the
hill. The builder had said the trees had to be trimmed way back. Plane trees
are fairly weak, and they could have fallen on the new building. Dad and a
few other folks climbed up the hill to the trees. They decided they could
shinny out a tree, cut off the top half, and be okay. But when it came time
to shinny out, no one wanted to go, so Dad started making his way along the
trunk. The tree itself was about twenty to thirty feet, and he was out over
halfway when the trunk broke behind him. Dad rode the remainder of the tree
like a cowboy riding a bronco. Surprisingly he had a few minor scratches but
no broken bones. As he started back up the hill to take care of the next
tree, several bystanders and my mother stopped that idea.
For treats on the weekends, occasionally we would get up early, phone in our
breakfast order to the King Cotton Restaurant in San Rafel, drive to Point
Richmond, and get on the ferry to go to breakfast. We would then spend the
day in the giant redwoods or Napa Valley. Dad loved the big redwoods. We had
a giant redwood growing right in front of our house. It was about as tall as
my bedroom window when I first remember it. By the time I left home, it was
taller than the house.
Our morning routine was fairly simple. Dad was very disciplined. He would
get up daily between two and three in the morning and go to the study to
work on research or speeches. At five-thirty he would come to my bedroom and
say, "Rise and shine!" as he pulled the covers to the bottom of the bed.
That was my cue to wash up and head up four flights of stairs to the kitchen
to help Mom prepare breakfast. Breakfast was our big meal. There was usually
meat, potatoes, some kind of vegetable, and many times Mom's homemade pie
and or ice cream. After breakfast it was off to school for us. Dad went back
to the study or off to class.
Evening meals for us were light fare such as salad, soup, or sandwiches.
Meal time for us was like class for Dad's students. We were asked our
opinions about the news of the day or a significant event in school. But
that was never the end of the conversation. Next we would have to defend our
opinion. Dad wanted us to reason things out, to look at both sides and think
things through. It was a long time before I realized what a gift that was to
me, my brother, and sister. We were taught never to accept things at face
value, and to be passionate about whatever idea we defended.
Dad always encouraged us to explore new things and ideas. When we were
growing up, he and Mom told us that they did not care what career we chose.
They did care that we became the best we could be at whatever we did.
By eight o'clock Dad was in bed. On Fridays we were allowed to sit at the
end of the bed for an hour and watch "Jack Benny" or "The Honeymooners" on
TV.
There were constantly people in our home meeting with Dad. A gentleman I
used to call Mr. Earl frequented our house. I learned later that Earl was
his first name. His last name was Warren. He was governor of California, and
later he would become chief justice of the United States Supreme Court. He
and Dad were friends and would talk politics and law.
I think fall was one of my father's favorite times of year. On Saturday
afternoons the adults gathered around the Grundig radio on the living room
table to listen to the University of California football games. Many times,
aunts and uncles would be in attendance with cocktails and cigars. Dad's
favorite cigar was Bering. The cigars came in silver aluminum tubes that my
brother and I would collect and play with. Dad also followed the San
Francisco 49ers and the San Francisco Giants. He was a Willy Mays fan, but
the California Golden Bears were his sports passion.
Holidays were wonderful times in our family. I still have the big roasting
pan that my mother put the turkey in. On Thanksgiving there was usually a
forty-pound turkey in the pan. We had all the trimmings and lots of pies. My
brother, sister, and I were tasked with helping to prepare the pies. We had
to peel two to three lugs of white Astrachan apples, as well as apricots. We
had two peeler-corer-and-slicers and could take care of the apples very
quickly. Astrachans have a very short season, so when the time came we would
have several lugs of apples to prepare for freezing. Dad loved warm apple
pie with vanilla ice cream.
Whenever the extended family was together, there was always lively
conversation. Normally it took place around our fireplace in the living
room. One of my jobs when I was in grade school was to be the popcorn
popper. Once the fire was going, I would place the popcorn in a fine mesh
oblong basket with a sliding top and a long handle. I would hold the basket
over the fire until the corn popped. Sometimes during the winter Dad would
suggest we cook hotdogs over the fire. We would roast marshmallows in there
also.
I have to back up for a moment and talk about our freezer. I am not sure
when it arrived.
It was an eighteen-cubic-foot upright that was located in a room on the top
floor off the dining room. It stood in an area that had been built to
contain it, kind of like a big closet outside the wall of the room. Back
then, freezers were not frostless. Periodically, I was tasked to help Dad
defrost the freezer. We would get boxes to put all the food in. Then we
would carry pans of hot water from the kitchen and throw the water into the
freezer. When the ice was gone we would take big towels, dry out the
freezer, and put the food back in. After that the freezer would be good
again for a while. I think my Uncle Len designed the room. There was a
rubber pad in front of the freezer and a panel underneath it to let the
water out. My Uncle Len, by the way, was the designer of the NFB office we
attached to the house.
When I was growing up, one of my jobs was to keep the woodshed full. The
shed was located off the back of the living room, and it would hold a cord
of wood vertically. Dad would cut and split the wood in the front yard. I
would carry it up three flights of stairs, through the living room and to
the shed. We burned eucalyptus, which is very hard to cut and split. Dad
made a couple of sawhorses to hold the logs. He had a four-foot, two-man
cross-cut saw. He used it by himself until I was big enough to help. I have
no idea where the logs came from—there always seemed to be some there for
Dad to cut. I learned later that friends, neighbors, and tree services would
deliver the logs to Dad. They were around ten to fifteen feet long and
really heavy.
Shortly after I got my driver's license, I got a lead on where we could get
twenty or thirty eucalyptus tree trunks. The area had been cleared, and all
we had to do was go pick them up. We rented a truck, and Dad and I went to
pick up the logs. It turned out that they were lying on a hill, and many of
them were over twenty feet long. We discovered that, with some effort, we
could roll the logs down the hill. We parked the truck next to the hill and
put some wooden planks from the hill to the truck. However, we had not
thought through how we were going to stop the logs once they got to the
truck. This we realized when the first log rolled down the hill. It hit the
truck bed, just like we thought, and then it broke the stakes on the other
side of the truck as it kept right on going. After discovering that we had
to walk the logs down to the truck, we managed to get them home. We worked
solidly for two days on that project, and it is one of the few times I
remember Dad complaining about being sore. It took us three months of
weekends to get all that wood cut and split.
For Labor Day you can count on one thing in the San Francisco Bay area. No
fog. The temperature warms up, and most Labor Days are real Chamber of
Commerce advertisements. For us, Labor Day weekend meant one thing. The
wooden stairs that comprised the first flight up from the ground had to be
sanded and painted. Since there was no other way to get up to the front
door, Dad had built a twenty-foot wooden ladder to go up the wall next to
the stairs. I can't remember exactly when, but I think I was in junior high
when Mom put her foot down. Stairs and a path were carved into the hill next
to the wall to get us up when the wooden stairs were painted.
If you continued up the hill past our kitchen, you would find the biggest
eucalyptus tree I have ever seen. It was close to fifty feet tall when I
left home, and about six feet around. Up the hill a few feet from the tree
was the kids' playground. It contained a cement oval about four feet wide
and thirty feet long. One hundred feet up a forty-degree grade was Rose, the
closest street. Given the choice of carrying the material to build the
playground up four flights of stairs and then up a steep hill versus getting
it down the steep grade from above, Dad did the only sensible thing. He
built a hundred-foot chute from the street above to the play area. It had
four-by-four posts, was about eighteen inches wide, and had six-inch sides
made of plywood. The chute was steep enough that the gravel would flow down
to the ground. It was still standing when I left twenty years later.
About twenty feet off the playground was a six-foot storm drain the city had
put in to collect the runoff from the hills above us. Dad got the city to
place eight two-by-fours across the culvert to keep the kids out of it. The
playground was built in the early 1950s. Just before Thanksgiving of 1962,
the San Francisco Bay area received several days of record rainfall. At
about seven PM, Mom came into my room and said they needed help, as water
was coming in under the doors. When I got to the living room I could see
what looked like a major river coming down the hill. Water was hitting the
living room door and the door on the bottom level, which had a cubbyhole set
up where we would put our shoes and boots. Mom had called the fire
department, and they entered the house by climbing up on the roof of the
office and then climbing a fifteen-foot ladder up to my bedroom window. From
my bedroom they went up the house through the kitchen (past all Mom's pies)
and out the kitchen door, which was not affected by the water.
Dad had figured out that debris had blocked the storm drain. He had worked
his way up the hill, gotten to the drain, and was trying to clear tree limbs
and other debris out of the way. The roar of the water was so loud that Dad
did not hear the firemen arrive on the scene. His hands were going numb as
he climbed out of the water, which was very cold.
The two firemen handed Dad a spotlight and said, "Please put the light on us
so we can see what to pull out." So Dad pointed the light. Shortly one of
the firemen yelled, "Put the light over here," and Dad moved the light. The
firemen responded, "No, over here!" After several more tries, one of the
firemen got out of the water, angrily stormed over to Dad, and yelled, "Are
you blind? Put the light where we need it!" Dad's response was that as a
matter of fact, he was blind.
About midnight the debris was cleared, and we were able to assess the
damage. When you walk out of the first floor door, out of the cubbyhole,
there is a six foot retaining wall. A part of the bottom of the wall had
washed away and a huge cavern had been formed underneath the walk. It was
about 30 feet deep and 50 feet across. A lot of the hillside had been moved,
and the street in front of our house was covered in mud. The next day we
discovered that one of our neighbors a block away down the hill had
excitedly called the fire department, when she looked out her kitchen window
to discover her swimming pool full of mud and a pair of my boots floating
upside down in the middle of the pool.
That afternoon when the city sent a team to rappel down into the hole to
inspect the damage, Dad had to go down to personally see what was going on.
When they got back up one of the men said to Dad you handle yourself very
well on the ropes where did you get your training? Dad responded your
partner gave me instructions before you arrived.
* * * * * * *
PROCTORS AND PROBLEMS
My First Experience with a Certification Exam
by David Meyer
Over the past years, more and more professions have established
certification requirements. Practitioners must pass a certifying examination
in order to qualify for a job, retain their employment, or be promoted to a
higher level. Blind and visually impaired test-takers often face a gauntlet
of technological barriers, so that the challenge of mastering the test
material truly pales by comparison.
The technology has changed in recent years, but sadly there is nothing new
about barriers to professional certifying exams. I will never forget what
happened when I took the exam to become certified as a music therapist
thirty years ago.
I was employed in the music therapy field when certification became a
requirement for new graduates. Since I was "grandfathered in," I put off the
certification process for several years. Then, early in 1988, I received a
letter from my employer. It stated that I needed to certify or risk losing
my job. The protection of being "grandfathered in" was not going to last
forever.
At that time, there was only one day per year when music therapists could
certify. Therefore, it was crucial that I pass the examination on the first
try. If I took the exam and failed, I would likely lose my job. I arranged
to take the exam that year. The date was November 5, and the time was one
PM.
When I spoke with a representative from Assessment Systems INC., the agency
charged with administering the exam, I learned I could have one additional
hour to complete the test beyond the standard three-hour limit. Initially, I
was not concerned about needing extra time. In the end it came in handy—for
all the wrong reasons.
At twelve-forty PM on November 5, 1988, I sat in the lobby of the main
building of Harold Washington College. I waited with the other candidates to
be called in for the one-o'clock test. Feeling anxious, I stood up. As I
rose, someone asked, "Are you David Meyer?" A woman introduced herself,
telling me she was my proctor, Liz.
Trouble from the Start
As we conversed prior to test time, Liz told me that she had been about to
leave. She had already waited for several hours, as she had been told that
the test would begin at nine AM. We proceeded to the testing area with the
other candidates and were given a room assignment as well as a copy of the
test. I don't know when Liz began timing me. I do know that prior to reading
me the first question, she told me that there were several questions with
diagrams which she would not be able to interpret for me.
Surprised and angry, I shot back that if this was indeed the case, we might
as well stop right there. As far as I was concerned, the test would not be
valid for me unless it could be read in full. Liz offered to begin reading
the exam. I refused, saying I needed the problem to be resolved before I
began. Liz offered to find the supervising proctor, who might offer a
solution to my dilemma. By this time we were ten minutes into the testing
perion, and I had not completed a single question.
Liz came back with the supervising proctor, Frank. Frank's solution was for
me to leave all questions blank if they could not be read. I pointed out
that this solution was worse than no solution at all. If I left the
questions blank, they would surely count against me. I might fail the exam
if I implemented his recommendation. Liz then offered to look for someone
who could assist us. Frank was amenable, and offered to take over the
reading of the test in the meantime.
Should Proctors Be Able to Read?
As Frank sat down, he announced that he was a bit nearsighted. He asked me
to have patience, as he might have some trouble seeing what he needed to
read. When he began, I realized I had no way to tell whether his reading was
accurate. On several occasions he read the same answer under different
letter choices. Twice he read different answers and gave the same letter
choice. He consistently substituted the word "rescinding" in place of
"descending" and "ascending." Furthermore, even when he read appropriately,
his voice was barely audible. Though the questions he read should have been
pretty straightforward, I constantly had to ask him to repeat them before
choosing an answer.
Eventually Liz returned with what seemed to be great news. She had found the
school's choir director, who was conducting a rehearsal. The choir director
indicated that he would come up and assist us once his rehearsal was over.
After that we settled into a rather comfortable rhythm for the remainder of
the examination. Liz remained courteous, patient, and professional, in spite
of what was surely a trying day for her.
When we finished with the questions she felt she was able to read, we began
to brainstorm again. We had already exceeded the time limit for the other
test takers, and we had yet to hear from the choir director. As it turned
out, he never appeared. Liz thought she could communicate the remainder of
the questions to me if she had a piano to work with. Not knowing if this was
an acceptable accommodation, we began looking for a piano. Once we found
one, we sailed through the questions with little difficulty. Having the
chance to answer those questions was definitely helpful. They turned out to
be among the easiest questions on the exam.
I had already decided that I was going to write a letter of complaint and
send it to everyone I thought should have it. Liz told me that there was a
place on the answer form where she could make a comment about the
examination process. She wrote that communication about the scheduling of
the test was poor. Regarding the test itself, she wrote that she did not
feel herself adequate to the task. She read her statement to me and asked
for my thoughts. I thanked her for her patience and support while we
struggled together.
Thirty Days and Counting
When candidates take certifying exams today, they usually receive their
scores immediately. In 1988, however, things were much different. Exams were
scored by hand, and test takers had to wait thirty days to find out how they
fared. I figured I had plenty of time to make my case to all parties that
might be in a position to accommodate my needs if I failed the exam. With my
career at stake and a honed edge of anger, I wrote my letter. I detailed all
the problems I had and laid out a set of conditions I felt should be met if
I had to take the test again. I received a sympathetic response from the
president of the National Association for Music Therapy. She said she was
sorry about what I had to go through, but she could not do anything to help
me. This was a matter between me and the Certification Board for Music
Therapists. The Certification Board for Music Therapists thought my letter
was unreasonable. It did not agree with a single condition in my letter. If
I failed the exam, I could take it again on the next testing date, which was
likely to be in November, 1989.
If I failed the exam, I felt my only course of action would be to sue. Thank
goodness, I passed the exam, and all was well. I hope that no one who takes
a certification examination ever encounters the obstacles I faced when I
certified for the first time!
* * * * * * *
TRAVELS IN TUNISIA
By Brianna Lillyman
As a long-time member of the National Federation of the Blind, I have heard
the message, "You can live the life you want," over and over again. When one
of my professors passed around a flyer advertising a faculty-led study
abroad program in Tunisia, an Arab country in North Africa, I knew this was
something I wanted to do, though I also knew it might be a challenge.
The trip took place over the course of three weeks, with the first week in
Tunis, the capital. The remainer of the trip we traveled throughout the
country to many of the historically and politically significant cities and
locations, all while attending lectures by my professor and his Tunisian
colleagues, susplemented by our wonderful Tunisian tour guide. The course
was a political science class with credit toward my major in international
studies. Its focus was on Tunisia's Jasmine Revolution and democracy.
For those who aren't familiar with it, the Jasmine Revolution took place in
2011, removing the dictator Ben Ali and establishing the first Arab
democracy. It began when a Tunisian street vendor named Muhamed Buazizi
immolated himself in protest of the cruel and unfair treateived at the hands
of the Tunisian police force. Within the following month, Ben Ali fled the
country, fearful of the spreading protests that he was unable to control
with words or force. The Jasmine Revolution began the movement known z the
Arab Spring, as Egypt1 Libya, and Syria attempted to follow Tunisia's lead.
None can claim anywhere near the success that Tunisia has had.
Preparing for the Challenge
I was very lucky to have the support of my parents in my decision to study
in a country that had experienced recent political unrest and a revolution
in 2011. Instead of trying to talk me out of it, my parents encouraged me to
apply for a passport, as this would be my first time traveling overseas.
As a blind student, I knew it was critical for me to approach the professor
who was leading the program. I informed him of my situation and asked to
work with him to make sure I cd fully participate in the experience. My
professor asked me a number of very specific questions related to my travel
experience. He wanted to know how I would navigate certain scenarios in
Tunisia. I sensed that he was nervous about having a blind student on the
trip. It would have been easy to let myself be talked out of applying. I
recall my professor asking me why I wanted to go on a trip where we would be
traveling throughout the entire country of Tunisia. Why not apply for one of
the programs in Europe that are held a> one institute and require less
travel? But I felt that this trip was a rare opportunity to experience a
culture to which I had very little exposure. I found the prospect of
traveling exciting rather than daunting or hazardous. In this moment, it was
very important that I was able to assert myself, to explain specific tactics
of orientation and mobility to my professor, and to fall back on that
message, "I can life the life I want."
Even when my acceptance into the program was confirmed and my plane tickets
were booked, there were moments when I felt that maybe I had made a mistake.
I didn't know what I was getting into, and I thought of all the things that
could go wrong. But once I arrived in Tunis, all my expecttions of what the
trip was going to be like were blown out of the water. I had an incredibly
fun and informative three-week experience.
The Global Community
My first day in Tunisia was definitely one of the longest, most exhausting
but exciting days of my life! Between travel and activities upon arrival, it
was well over twenty-four hours before I had the opportunity to sleep in a
bed for the first time since leaving the US. I was astounded by how much the
landscape looked like an island resort rather than the desert wasteland I
was expecting. I immediately went to the beach at our hotel and stesped into
the waters of the Medite6ranean. I marveled at the sound of the unfamiliar
Arabic language being spoken all around me and the camels walking along the
beach.
On that first afternoon we had our first lecture and our first dinner
together as a group. We went out in the evening to City Bou Said for a
guided walking tour of this centuries-old city above the Medite6ranean. It
consisted of beautiful architecture, crowded brick roads full of people, and
so much car traffic! More than once we witnessed cars having to back up in
hilly alleyways to let other cars through. People were getting out of their
cars to direct other drivers. That first night is sort of a jet-lagged blur
to me as I tried to take it all in. It was hard to wrap my head around the
fact that after all the anticipation I had finally made it to the beautiful
country of Tunisia.
During our stay in Tunis in the first week of the trip, one of the moments
that made a great impression on me actually occurred while I was standing on
American soil. It happened when we visited the cemetery for US soldiers who
died during World War II in North Africa. The land was donated to the US by
Habib Bourgiba, Tunisia's former ruler and "founding father," as a thank you
fo6 US support in Tunisia's independence movement. Our guide at the cemetery
was a Tunisian man who profusely apologized for his lack of knowledge of the
site. He sort of fell into the job after the US embassy was burned in a
terrorist attack and all non-essential US workers were evacuated. He
stressed to us that he takes his job seriously and wants to learn more about
the history of the cemetery because he considers it a great honor.
I found this site very moving, especially the wall of names listing the
missing people whose bodies were never found. Our guide took us two the
graves of two brothers who were killed on Christmas Eve. Their bodies were
found back to back as they died together, trying to protect each other.
While I was visiting this site, I thout of what our guide said about honor
and what it means to sacrifice your life for the cause of freedom, as
Muhamed Buazizi did and others have done throughout the Middle East. In
Tunisia, Libya, Egypt, and Syria, people risked or scrificed their lives in
an ongoing struggle to be free of their authoritarian governments. I always
thought of the turmoil in the Middle East as distant and disconnected from
my life. But standing in a cemetery for American soldiers who died in North
Africa as a result of a European conflict, it hit me that then and now, we
are all part of the same global community.
This sense of global community stayed with me throughout the rest of the
trip. Wherever we went, we were genuinely welcomed by nearly all the people
we encountered. Tourism makes up a significant portion of Tunisia's
aeconomy, but it is quite unique for so many Americans to travel there.
People were eager to accommodate us or simply to talk to us and practice
their English.
Culture Shock
One of the highlights of my time in Tunisia was when our professor arranged
for us to mee> with a group of Tunisian students studying law and English.
We met with them several times during our trip. The perspectives and life
experience of students my age supplemented and enhanced the material we
learned in our lectures.
On our first full day in Tunis, our professor sent us off in smaller groups
with Tunisian students. They took us through the marketplace called the
medina. We were bombbarded by Tunisia's city life. I was so overwhelmed by
the medina—it's so colorful, with twisting, tiny, crowded alleys full of
vendors using any means necessary to sell us something. As in many of the
places we visited, it was difficult for me to navigate. At the same time, I
appreciated that I could use my cane without attracting too much unwanted
attention. In the US, especially at airports, I can't walk with my cane
without drawing major attention to myself—mostly stares, but sometimes more
direct encounters with overly helpful and annoyingly misinformed people. In
Tunisia no one seemed to take even a second look. My cane was no more of a
spectacle to people than the fact that I'm an American. Actually, it was
kind of disconcerting that nobody jumped out of the way of my cane.
Of course there were moments on the trip that were a culture shock and well
out of my comfort zone. Nearly everywhere we went, there were skinny, dirty
cats and excessive amounts of garbage and litter. One upsetting moment
occurred as we walked down the narrow medina alleys of the city of Bizerte,
and a horse pulling a cart stumbled into a manhole. The horse was writhing
around with its leg down the hole. It had hit its mouth on the pavement, and
it was bleeding. All this was happening inches away from us. We were all
just hoping the horse was okay and that none of us would get injured in the
struggle. The horse walked away from it, but it was a shocking thing to
witness.
Night in the Sahara
Any negative moments were outweighed by all the other amazing things I got
to aexperience. When people ask me what was my favorite part of the trip, I
am quick to report that it was my time in the Sahara. Th9ugh we stayed in
hotels throughout the trip, we spent one incredible night camping in the
desert. Our professor told us it would only take two hours to drive from our
hotel to our desert campsite. It was located in a palm grove that was
miraculously thriving in the desert. We separated into special jeeps for the
journey.
We soon discovered that the two-hour estimate was very wrong, because even
the jeeps were no match for the desert dunes. Every so often, a jeep got
stuck and had to be dug out. Once we had t9 dig out the Tunisian National
Guard who was tailing us! The Tunisian police force maintained constant
contct with our tour guide to aensure that our group had a positive, safe
experience.
The entire ride was practically a ro2lercoaster, except scarier. I really
thought our jeep might tip over. If anything were to happen, we would be
stranded far from civilization.
When we finally arrived hours later, the jeeps took us straight to a Roman
fortress that remains crumbling in the desert. From there we watched a
beautiful sunset over the Sahara. It was a moment that can't be captured
with words—I've never felt so small as a person, or felt such a sense of the
smallness of the human race. We can never conquer this land; everything is
sand. It was so fine and soft and orangey that it covered everything I
brought with me. It hurts and gets on every inch of your body. Once I
embraced that it was unavoidable, I started rolling down dunes, jumping into
the sand, and burying myself in it. But at the sunset, everyone became dead
silent as we watched in awe.
Back at the palm grove campsite, we ate around the fire. There was music, a
abelly dancer, and general fun among our group. Our professor asked if any
of us wanted to spend the night out in the dunes away from the campsite. He
led us a ways away before he left us. The beauty of the stars was one of the
best moments of the trip for me. They were so bright that I was able to see
them for the first time in many years. I separated a few yards from the rest
of the group so I acd take it all in.
And then it gold cold. They warned us, but I had no idea! It was cold and
damp and sandy. I didn't make it the whole night in the dunes. I had to find
my way back to the campsite and huddle in a blanket. Afterward I was so
incredibly glad I spent the night in the Sahara, but between the cold and
the sand, I was also glad when it was over.
It is difficult for me to convey all of the things that I learned and
experienced. There was no way I could have imagined it beforehand. I walked
away from the experience feeling independent and enriched. I gained a whole
new perspective on global events and their relevance to my life. The sense
of nervousness I felt before my departure was vanquished by a new confidence
in my ability to adapt to and explore new things.
On our final morning before departure, my professor commented on the
conversation he had with me about how my blindness might affect my
experience on the trip. He said it seemed irrelevant now, and that he was
glad I went with the group. But no one could be gladder than I was! This was
one of the moments in life that was worth the risk and instilled in me that
I truly can lead the life I want.
* * * * * * *
iBRAL IS HERE!
by Robert Gardner
No, we're not talking about iPad or iTunes. We're talking about iBRAL! In
2012 the National Federation of the Blind discontinued its annual Braille
Readers Are Leaders (BRAL) contest after twenty-nine years. To fill the
void, the National Federation of the Blind of Illinois (NFBI) decided to run
its own contest for kids within the state. Say hello to the Illinois Braille
Readers Are Leaders, or iBRAL, Contest for kids!
The decision to organize the iBRAL contest came about in October of 2013,
spurred by the Braille Literacy Committee within the NFBI. With help from
Natalie Shaheen of our national office, the committee put together rules and
forms and set up a contest page on the state website—all within a month! To
match the resources available within Illinois, the contest was simplified
from the one formerly run at the national level. Registration opened on
December 1, 2013. The contest included five grade categories from
kindergarten through high school. Reading commenced on January 4, 2014,
Louis Braille's birthday, and the contest ran for six weeks. The object of
the competition, as before, was to read as many pages as possible during the
contest period.
The reaction to the iBRAL contest was immediate and enthusiastic. One mother
wrote on h"er son's registration form, "Thank you so much for organizing
this event in Illinois. The BRAL contest was the single biggest motivator
for my son to really work on his Braille skills."
Another typical comment on a registration form came from a teacher of the
visually impaired (TVI). She wrote , "This is my first student to take the
Braille Challenge, and we are both super excited!"
The overall response to our contest to promote the reading of Braille by
schoolchildren was fantastic. Within the few weeks allowed for registration,
we had twenty-six applicants, ranging from a firstst grader to several
students in twelfth grade. We were amazed that our brand-new,
never-heard-of-before contest had such a wonderful response. Much of the
thanks goes to the well-organized Public Relations Committee of the NFB of
Illinois. The PR Committee sent out a blitz of information to schools,
parents, and agencies all over the state.
Lois Montgomery of the NFBI Blackhawk Chapter volunteered to be the contest
administrator. She created an email account for iBRAL, where she received
registrations at the beginning of the contest and reading logs at the end.
In this way, all of the material could be handled electronically. The email
account also allowed Lois to communicate easily with parents and/or TVI's
who acted as Certifying Officials for the contestants.
"The contest seemed simple on the surface," Lois said, "but it was
surprising how much work it ended up being." Then she added, "But it was so
gratifying to read some of the comments we received."
Lois gave an example of what a TVI said about one of her students. "Thank
you for letting us participate!" the teacher wrote. "This was a great way to
encourage Braille reading for him!" A parent wrote of her son, "He wanted to
make sure he would do well. He just brought me his last book to log, and
told me his fingers hurt. No wonder. He read five hundred pages today
alone!"
"Sometimes," Lois said, "the feedback we got was touching." For example, a
TVI wrote about one of her students, "We had a GREAT time reading! Pierre
has just started reading Braille in the last few years, and is finally
reading with some fluency and reading for fun! He is seventeen years old,
and has autism along with his blindness and cognitive delays. He was
diligent daily about telling people he had to read for the Braille contest.
Hope to do it again next year! Thanks!"
Cash prizes were awarded to first, second, and third place winners in each
grade category. Special thanks go to both the National Braille Press and the
national headquarters of the NFB for donating additional prizes. When we
contacted Joanne Sullivan of the National Braille Press about purchasing
gift certificates from them to use as prizes, she told us we wouldn't have
to buy them. NBP, that great supporter of Braille, would donate
twenty-dollar gift certificates to be given to all entrants. In addition,
the national office of the NFB donated slates and styluses to be given to
each contestant. When it was all over, each child received a generous goodie
package from iBRAL, whether or not he or she won a prize.
An additional bonus for category winners was the offer to attend, free of
charge, the seminar for parents of blind children held by the NFBI in April
2014. In conjunction with the parents' seminar was a day-long conference for
blind high school and college students. One winner and his family accepted
the invitation.
The Braille Literacy Committee in Illinois, along with the entire state
affiliate, is proud of our accomplishments. We took the idea, the dream, of
creating a statewide Braille reading contest for children and turned it into
a reality. Many people contributed to the success of the endeavor, from
those who made phone calls to publicize the contest to our webmaster, who
made the contest electronically accessible. Lois Montgomery deserves special
thanks for overseeing the details of registration, compiling the reading
logs, and putting together the prize packages.
The NFBI is already committed to running a 2015 iBRAL contest for kids in
Illinois. In our first contest in 2014, we were astounded by the amount of
interest we received. We hope that, with more work and more publicity, our
second contest will be even more successful. Go Braille! Go iBRAL!
More information about the Illinois Braille Readers Are Leaders contest for
kids can be found at the NFBI website, www.nfbofillinois.org, at the link
"iBRAL Contest."
* * * * * * *
RING THE BELL IN ILLINOIS
by Debbie Kent Stein
As we prepare this newsletter for publication, our 2014 Illinois BELL
Program is completing its second and final week. For the second year, the
Chicago Lighthouse for the Blind and Visually Impaired very generously
allowed us to use space at its Chicago headquarters. Seven children
participated in this year's program, ranging in age from five to twelve. Amy
Lund served as our coordinating teacher, as she did last summer. Her
assistant teacher was Samantha Voll. Both Amy and Samantha are teachers of
the visually impaired from Springfield, Illinois.
Pitching in to help Amy and Samantha wherever needed was a team of
enthusiastic BELL volunteers. Some of our volunteers were blind
Federationists. Some were teachers of the visually impaired or teachers in
training at a TVI programs.
As a BELL volunteer I had the delightful privilege of directly participating
in this year's program. I helped escort the children on four exciting field
trips, each one packed with learning opportunities. We visited Midway
Airport, where we all were allowed to board a Southwest Airlines plane. The
kids even got to meet the captain in the cockpit and examine some of the
instruments. We explored the intriguing hands-on exhibits at the Chicago
Children's Museum, and we took a trip to the beach. We even went sailing on
the Tall Ship Windy that anchors at Navy Pier. The kids examined an
assortment of sailing equipment and had the chance to help raise and lower
the sails.
At the close of each day, Amy handed out bells of assorted shapes and sizes.
She invited each student and volunteer to describe something he or she
especially enjoyed about the day's activities. "Listening to the story!" a
child might say, or "Hearing the announcements on the subway!" or "Learning
to take the escalator." After each comment, kids and adults rang the bells
they had been given, a celebration of learning and accomplishment.
Looking back on the program, here are a few of my own most bell-worthy
moments.
I loved the children's excitement about mastering new Braille contractions,
reading more fluently, and dipping into new books.
Several of the children in our 2014 program also took part in BELL last
summer. It was wonderful to see the progress they have made in the past
school year.
I found it very heartening to observe how patient the children were with one
another. The older kids were very good to the younger ones, whatever we were
doing.
I loved finding fresh teaching moments. Truly, they are everywhere. Whether
the kids were unpacking lunches, writing journal entries, finding the way to
the bathroom, or boarding a bus, they reinforced earlier lessons and learned
new things.
I was thrilled by those moments when a child studied my cane or asked one of
the blind volunteers how he found his way to the Lighthouse. I had the
feeling that the kids were taking in a new reality—that blind people grow up
and live life just like the other grownups they know. They were taking in
the message that it's okay to be blind.
Ring the bells strong and clear for another outstanding Illinois BELL
program!
* * * * * * *
FINDING APPS WITH VIA
by Denise Avant
Apple's iPhone, iPad, and iPod have been accessible to the blind and
visually impaired and other people with disabilities since 2009. For those
of us who cannot see the touch screen, Apple has a built-in screen reader,
Voiceover, that speaks the text on the screen as you touch the various apps.
The various i-devices come with several native apps. These include Calendar,
Notes, Mail, and Music, just to name a few. All of these apps are totally
accessible to Voiceover users.
But what happens when you have mastered Voiceover and the apps built into
the phone? There are thousands of apps out there, created by different
programmers who do not always have access features in mind. How do you find
apps that are accessible with Voiceover?
The App Store on the i-device is the place where you go to find apps. It
offers some 500,000 apps, but there is no indication whether an app is
accessible with Voiceover. Fortunately, blind and visually impaired users
have a new resource to assist in finding out about the accessibility of any
given app. The Braille Institute of America in Los Angeles has developed an
App called VIA, Visually Impaired App. Of course, you can find in the App
Store.
How does VIA work? Once you download, install, and open the app on your
i-device, you will be on the home screen. There you will find a list of
categories: Recommended Apps, Search Apps, Recently Added Apps, App
Categories, My Apps, Suggest An App/Make A Comment, Donate, Partners, Visit
The Braille Institute Online, Call the Braille Institute, and Setting.
If you double tap on the category called App Categories, you will be taken
to a long list of categories: Accessibility, Communications, Education,
Entertainment, Fitness and Health, Identifiers, Navigation and Mobility,
News and Weather, Productivity and Life Management, and Reading, Writing and
Note Taking.
Double tap on Reading, Writing, and Note Taking. Once in that category, you
are presented with a list of subcategories. Double tap on Books, and you
will find a plethora of book apps.
When I tried this, I decided to double tap on Audiobooks from Audible, which
I was informed was a free app. I could double tap on the download button,
which would take me into the App Store to purchase and download the app. I
was given plenty of information about the app, including its iTunes rating,
the platforms on which it can be used, and that the app is Voiceover
compatible. For good measure, I was told that Mike May of the Sendero group,
who is visually impaired, uses the app.
As a blind user, I was given another piece of important information. I
learned that the app has made it into the AppleVis Hall of Fame. AppleVis is
a website that rates Apps on the Mac and IOS platforms based on their
accessibility with Voiceover. If an app makes it into the AppleVis Hall of
Fame, then you know it is definitely accessible with Vooiceover.
I was presented with four tabs: description, images, review and discussion,
and a description of what three of the four tabs do. Finally, I was given
plenty of advertisement about the Audible app.
Well, I already have that app, and do not need to download it. But you get
the point. So, go ahead—download VIA, which is free, and explore the
categories. It is a great resource for blind and visually impaired users of
the IOS platform. Happy app shopping!
* * * * * * *
TIPS AND TRICKS
Straight Street Crossings
by Leslie Hamric
We often have to stand and listen for a bit to analyze an intersection and
figure out when it's safe to cross the street. I find it helpful to point my
nose right at the perpendicular traffic (the traffic that is passing in
front of me) and my right or left ear at the parallel traffic, depending on
which side my parallel traffic is on. I find it distracting to line up with
the curb, because some curbs are crooked and others are straight. If you
just follow the curb, you never know if you're going to land yourself right
in the middle of the intersection. Your parallel and perpendicular traffic
will always be there for you, no matter what's going on under your feet.
Happy traveling!
* * * * * * *
A FATHER's TRIBUTE
by Mike McDermott
Our daughter, Erin, was an incredible inspiration. She had a smile that
would go on forever. She was always happy. If you were not happy, she wanted
to know how to make you happy. She could walk into a room full of people
that she had never met, and all of them would have a lasting memory of her
after she left. When you hear the saying "turn your frown upside down," Erin
was one of the reasons that would happen.
A week after her first birthday, Erin was diagnosed with a brain tumor that
was growing at an alarming rate. Her first brain surgery left her blind.
Erin went through two different chemotherapy treatments that stretched over
almost two years. She also had radiation therapy five days a week for eight
weeks. Erin endured countless other surgeries, including a total of seven
more brain operations. She took it all in stride.
No one foresaw how well she would adapt to being blind. She learned to read
and write Braille as well as a sighted child would read and write print.
Erin was one of the top readers in her class.
Erin did not let her blindness stop her from doing anything. She took judo.
She participated in both the Special Olympics and Paralympics. She won gold
medals in Special Olympics bowling and set records for her age group in
Paralympic Track and Field. She played the cello for a while. She played
recorder.
Erin loved to sing. Her voice was beautiful. She could hear a song once or
twice and have the rhythm down by the third time. Erin really enjoyed going
on outings. She would go to baseball games, Great America, water parks,
cruises, or picnics, and have fun. Blindness did not stop her from building
with Legos. In fact, she often would spend over an hour at a time building
by herself. It was something that she would brag about.
Erin loved to live life. Our weekends were full of activities that involved
Erin and her brother. She was a wonderful big sister. She would offer to
help with diaper changing and feeding, and she would read to him.
Erin loved to read. She would find a quiet spot and just start reading. She
could finish one book, pick up another one, and keep on going. She loved to
read to others. And we loved to hear her read.
I can't think of anyone who was more excited about going to school than
Erin. She would get up in the morning, and the first thing she would talk
about was what was going to happen at school that day. She enjoyed taking
the school bus and getting to know the helpers and drivers.
Erin would arrive at school and greet everyone. From the woman who checked
the children, to the security officer at the front desk, everyone would get
a "good morning" from Erin. She could be at one end of the school hallway,
and you could be at the other end, and she would know you by your voice or
by the way you walked.
Erin loved her family. She enjoyed playing games, especially the card game
War, which she would never ever lose.
That is how Erin lived. She never gave up. She fought a courageous battle
against odds that were insurmountable. Erin's first brain surgeon told us
that, even with all the chemotherapy in
the world, she would not make it past her fifth birthday. She proved the
doctors wrong. She lived almost eight years longer than any doctor said she
would.
Erin was loved by everyone. Everyone loved Erin. Even after she passed,
she was still giving. Two people, one from Chicago, one from Toms River, New
Jersey, were given the gift of sight from Erin. We miss her dearly. I wrote
this poem for Erin's thirteenth birthday, the one she had almost reached
when her journey on Earth ended, and her life in Heaven began anew.
Erin, Today should have been your thirteenth
birthday,
Every year that you were here,
I looked forward to your smile and cheer,
As your birthday approached you would fill with glee,
And tell everyone within earshot how old you would be.
For it was your special day,
I loved to celebrate and say,
"Happy Birthday to you
today!"
Filled with happiness and fun,
You would get
excited and do your little run,
Back and forth in the hall to celebrate the
day,
We would all sing and say,
"Happy Birthday to You Today!"
But now the joy has stopped,
My celebratory bubble has popped,
For you have been taken from me,
There is no happy, no glee.
My broken heart is still stunned and shaken,
>From the moment I first awaken,
To the time I lay my head down,
I can't help it but to frown.
Erin, today should
have been your thirteenth birthday.
Love you, Forever and Eternally,
My Sweet Angel Erin.
Love, Dad
* * * * * * *
ALLEN GLICKMAN: In Memoriam
by Steve Hastalis
A longtime colleague has left us. Many of us came to know Allen Glickman in
the 1970s. At about that time he changed careers, married Roberta, and
joined the National Federation of the Blind (NFB).
In his first career, Allen Glickman ran a newsstand at Montrose and Kimball
in Chicago. He worked there until some neighborhood kids played a prank and
set the stand on fire. Fortunately, Allen got out alive and went on to work
in his primary career at the Chicago Transit Authority (CTA). He was the
second person with significant disabilities who was hired at CTA. I was the
first.
Allen worked at CTA for thirty-four years, from March 1976 through March
2010. Anyone who met him, even briefly, understood that he had an extensive
knowledge of the streets and transit routes of Chicago. He started out in
group sales, a department that primarily handles requests for charter buses.
Allen was working there in 1979, when Chicago experienced a record-setting
blizzard. Allen and I reported to work on time every day during that winter.
A company memo proclaimed, "Congratulations! You've rolled up your sleeves
..." etc. It went on to delineate how employees who did not make it to work
because of the snow could take vacation time, compensatory time, or time
without pay. Over the years Allen often recalled that we made it to work and
that others who didn't resented us for it.
Allen's next assignment came in the 1980s, when Chicago began to operate
Paratransit service, door-to-door service for people with disabilities. He
worked there from the inception of this service, which CTA ran internally
with twenty small buses. This service clearly was not sufficient to cover
the city of Chicago. Eventually CTA contracted with several companies to
expand the service. In 2005 the state of Illinois passed legislation again,
amending the Regional Transportation Authority (RTA) service. One of the
changes involved the migration of the Paratransit administration in Chicago
from CTA to the PACE Suburban Bus Line, ostensibly to create a more
region-wide system. Allen expressed concerns about how well the service
would work under the new administration. From the time of the change until
he retired, Allen worked in Customer Service. He primarily handled requests
for written materials such as CTA maps.
During his thirty-four years at CTA and after he retired, Allen participated
actively in the NFB. He attended many state and national conventions,
Chicago Chapter meetings, and public education events. He carried on an
active lifestyle with his disabilities. He had a wry sense of humor. In
moments of stress he often asked me, "How would you like to attend a Jewish
funeral?"
When Allen passed away, Roberta urged me to go to his service, knowing that
Allen and I were close. On Thursday, June 12, I attended Allen's funeral.
The rabbi requested pallbearers. I asked if I could do this, given that
Allen and I were longtime coworkers. The rabbi agreed, and I joined several
others.
We removed the casket from the hearse and carried it to the gravesite. The
rabbi recalled Allen's knowledge of Chicago. He recounted how Allen cared
about people, and gave several examples. He told about how Allen attended
the funeral of former Mayor Harold Washington and the reception honoring
former Mayor Richard M. Daley.
The rabbi led us in prayers, both in English and Hebrew. He began with the
Twenty-third Psalm: "The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want ..." We
shoveled dirt onto the casket. Pam Gillmore pressed her cane tip into the
dirt, and a lady let Roberta hold a handful. The rabbi observed that we had
done our final good deed for Allen. Now we must look after Roberta.
Roberta's brother Arnold invited us to his home, where we sat shiva. By
fortuitous coincidence, I met a man who serves on the House Committee of the
Glickmans' synagogue. I now serve on the parish council of my church, and we
compared notes. We had a wide-ranging discussion about public works, transit
projects, and the many friends and acquaintances we had in common. Allen
would have enjoyed that discussion, and I felt his presence there.
On June 14 the Chicago Chapter held a memorial event for Allen Glickman as
part of its monthly meeting. MANY chapter members shared their loving
memories of Allen. He will be greatly missed. Let us carry on his legacy of
consistency and dedication.
Here follows the obituary that Roberta submitted to the Chicago Tribune.
DEATH NOTICE: Allen Donald Glickman.
Allen Donald Glickman, 67, passed away June 10 after a short illness. He is
survived by his loving wife, Roberta May Miller; his brother, Michael; his
sister, Helen; his devoted brother-in-law, Arnie; and his nephews, Bryan and
Jeffrey. He was preceded in death by his loving parents, Jerome and Lillian
Glickman. Graveside service Thursday, 12 PM, at Zion Garden Cemetery, 6758
W. Addison, Chicago. In lieu of flowers, donations may be made in his memory
to the National Federation of the Blind at www.nfb.org or (773) 307-6440.
Arrangements by Chicago Jewish Funerals, Skokie Chapel, (847) 229-8822.
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