[Md-sligo] FW: [Brl-monitor] The Braille Monitor, June 2016
Reyazuddin, Yasmin
Yasmin.Reyazuddin at montgomerycountymd.gov
Wed Jun 8 17:39:03 UTC 2016
BRAILLE MONITOR
Vol. 59, No. 6 June 2016
Gary Wunder, Editor
Distributed by email, in inkprint, in Braille, and on USB flash
drive, with the audio version being available in both Spanish and English
(see reverse side) by the
NATIONAL FEDERATION OF THE BLIND
Mark Riccobono, President
telephone: (410) 659-9314
email address: nfb at nfb.org
website address: http://www.nfb.org
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Letters to the President, address changes, subscription requests, and
orders for NFB literature should be sent to the national office. Articles
for the Monitor and letters to the editor may also be sent to the national
office or may be emailed to gwunder at nfb.org.
Monitor subscriptions cost the Federation about forty dollars per year.
Members are invited, and nonmembers are requested, to cover the
subscription cost. Donations should be made payable to National Federation
of the Blind and sent to:
National Federation of the Blind
200 East Wells Street at Jernigan Place
Baltimore, Maryland 21230-4998
THE NATIONAL FEDERATION OF THE BLIND KNOWS THAT BLINDNESS IS NOT THE
CHARACTERISTIC THAT DEFINES YOU OR YOUR FUTURE. EVERY DAY WE RAISE THE
EXPECTATIONS OF BLIND PEOPLE, BECAUSE LOW EXPECTATIONS CREATE OBSTACLES
BETWEEN BLIND PEOPLE AND OUR DREAMS. YOU CAN LIVE THE LIFE YOU WANT;
BLINDNESS IS NOT WHAT HOLDS YOU BACK. THE NATIONAL FEDERATION OF THE BLIND
IS NOT AN ORGANIZATION SPEAKING FOR THE BLIND-IT IS THE BLIND SPEAKING FOR
OURSELVES.
ISSN 0006-8829
© 2016 by the National Federation of the Blind
Each issue is recorded on a thumb drive (also called a memory stick
or USB flash drive). You can read this audio edition using a computer or a
National Library Service digital player. The NLS machine has two slots-the
familiar book-cartridge slot just above the retractable carrying handle and
a second slot located on the right side near the headphone jack. This
smaller slot is used to play thumb drives. Remove the protective rubber pad
covering this slot and insert the thumb drive. It will insert only in one
position. If you encounter resistance, flip the drive over and try again.
(Note: If the cartridge slot is not empty when you insert the thumb drive,
the digital player will ignore the thumb drive.) Once the thumb drive is
inserted, the player buttons will function as usual for reading digital
materials. If you remove the thumb drive to use the player for cartridges,
when you insert it again, reading should resume at the point you stopped.
You can transfer the recording of each issue from the thumb drive to
your computer or preserve it on the thumb drive. However, because thumb
drives can be used hundreds of times, we would appreciate their return in
order to stretch our funding. Please use the return envelope enclosed with
the drive when you return the device.
[PHOTO CAPTION: Palm-lined drive leading to front entrance to Rosen Shingle
Creek Resort]
Orlando Site of 2016 NFB Convention
The 2016 convention of the National Federation of the Blind will take
place in Orlando, Florida, June 30 to July 5, at the Rosen Shingle Creek
Resort, 9939 Universal Boulevard, Orlando, Florida 32819-9357. Make your
room reservation as soon as possible with the Shingle Creek staff only.
Call (866) 996-6338.
The 2016 room rates are singles and doubles, $83; and for triples and
quads $89. In addition to the room rates there will be a tax, which at
present is 13.5 percent. No charge will be made for children under
seventeen in the room with parents as long as no extra bed is requested.
The hotel is accepting reservations now. A $95-per-room deposit is required
to make a reservation. Fifty percent of the deposit will be refunded if
notice is given to the hotel of a reservation cancellation before May 27,
2016. The other 50 percent is not refundable.
Rooms will be available on a first-come, first-served basis.
Reservations may be made before May 27, 2016, assuming that rooms are still
available. After that time the hotel will not hold our room block for the
convention. In other words, you should get your reservation in soon.
All Rosen Shingle Creek guestrooms feature amenities that include
plush Creek Sleeper beds, 40" flat screen TVs, complimentary high-speed
internet capabilities, in-room safes, coffee makers, mini-fridges, and hair
dryers. Guests can also enjoy a swimming pool, fitness center, and on-site
spa. The Rosen Shingle Creek Resort has a number of dining options,
including two award-winning restaurants, and twenty-four-hour-a-day room
service.
The schedule for the 2016 convention is:
Thursday, June 30 Seminar Day
Friday, July 1 Registration Day
Saturday, July 2 Board Meeting and Division Day
Sunday, July 3 Opening Session
Monday, July 4 Business Session
Tuesday, July 5 Banquet Day and Adjournment
Vol. 59, No. 6 June
2016
Contents
Illustration: Exploratorium Puts Science at Your Fingertips
Victory in the Yasmin Reyazuddin Case
by Chris Danielsen
Another Insulin Pump User
by Bridgit Kuenning-Pollpeter
Balancing Service Animal Users' and Business' Rights and Responsibilities
by Marion Gwizdala
Corky Canvas
by Barbara Loos
Facing the Tweetbook: Getting Linked into Social Media
by Danielle Trevino
Loan Discharge Program
by Gabe Cazares
Living in Three Dimensions
by Deborah Kent
A Question for Our Readers
by Gary Wunder
Reflections of a Lifetime Reader and Library Maven
by Marc Maurer
Recipes
Monitor Miniatures
[PHOTO CAPTION: Julia Gebert listens to wind tubes at the Exploratorium.]
[PHOTO CAPTION: Nick Oliver learns about sound and vibration hands-on at
the Exploratorium.]
[PHOTO CAPTION: Caleb Hyndman learns about how air pressure can levitate a
ball.]
[PHOTO CAPTION: Andrea Cataquiz and her mother Cecile explore the tide
exhibit.]
[PHOTO CAPTION: A group of students navigate on a trip to Chinatown.]
Exploratorium Puts Science at Your Fingertips
Touch is a magic sense but one that is all too often forbidden,
precluded both by instruction and construction. How often do we hear blind
children talk about going to the museum with friends or family and finding
that there is nothing there for them except what someone will read or
verbally try to describe? This very hands-off mentality is one of the
barriers that has come between blind people and the sciences, and one of
the objectives of our STEM2U program is to tear down this artificial
barrier by figuring out creative ways for blind people to enjoy the majesty
of science, technology, engineering, and math with all of their remaining
senses.
The latest program was held in San Francisco at the Exploratorium, a
museum unique for the displays and exhibits that can be touched. Mya Jones,
one of the staff members coordinating the project said, "It was amazing to
see Caleb as he observed how air can be used to move and set the direction
for objects. What makes this museum so unique is that it values hands-on
experiences, and our students loved it."
The director of our STEM2U program, Natalie Shaheen, is excited about
a museum exhibit that is almost totally accessible for blind people. The
exhibit represents a data set showing the tide levels for a year. Each day
is represented by a tile with a lid that can be opened. The tide for a day
is represented by a stick; the higher the tide, the higher the stick. It is
therefore easy to observe the tide from day to day and by opening the lids
for multiple days to track the patterns.
[PHOTO CAPTION: Chris Danielsen]
[PHOTO CAPTION: Yazmin Reyazuddin]
Victory in the Yasmin Reyazuddin Case
by Chris Danielsen
From the Editor: Chris Danielsen is the director of public relations
for the National Federation of the Blind. Previously he worked in private
practice as an attorney, so we have just the right person to understand the
complexity of the law and to communicate it to those of us who know only
that we do not wish to break it. As with so many cases involving the rights
of blind people, the issue here focuses on provisions in the Rehabilitation
Act of 1973, as amended, and the Americans with Disabilities Act passed in
1990. At issue was the tug of war between the concept of reasonable
accommodation and undue hardship, both articulated in law and regulation,
but each requiring better definition as provided in ever-evolving case law.
Here is what Chris says:
On February 26, 2016, after some four days of deliberation following
a nearly three-week trial, a jury in a federal district courtroom in
Greenbelt, Maryland, reached a momentous verdict. The verdict was, of
course, important to Yasmin Reyazuddin, the blind woman whose case against
her employer was being considered by the jury. But the case made a broader
statement about the importance of accessibility and technology. The jury
ruled expressly and unequivocally that Ms. Reyazuddin's employer,
Maryland's Montgomery County, had failed to provide her with a reasonable
accommodation, as required by the Rehabilitation Act of 1973, and
discriminated against her by not transferring her to a new telephone call
center because it failed to make workplace technology accessible.
The road to this great day was a long one; the case was originally
filed in the spring of 2011 and was the culmination of years of frustration
for Ms. Reyazuddin, a longtime member of the National Federation of the
Blind of Maryland. It took five more years for the case to work its way to
trial, in part because Montgomery County at one point got it thrown out of
court, and that decision had to be appealed. Fortunately, the appeal was
successful, and a jury finally heard the case. What follows is a summary of
the case gleaned from the complaint that was filed, with the assistance of
the National Federation of the Blind, on Yasmin Reyazuddin's behalf; this
writer's own observation of appellate arguments in the case; Yasmin's trial
testimony; information from her attorneys; NFB of Maryland press releases
and articles about the case; and press reports. The NFB hired the law firm
of Brown, Goldstein & Levy, which has handled many cases on our behalf, to
represent Yasmin. Her trial team was led by Joe Espo, with assistance from
Tim Elder, a blind NFB member now practicing in California; and Dan
Goldstein, who is very familiar to Monitor readers and national convention
attendees.
From 2000 to 2008, Yasmin, a native of India with multiple
undergraduate degrees who speaks Urdu and Hindi as well as English, worked
successfully for Montgomery County, first as a contract employee and then,
beginning in late 2002, as a full-time merit employee. At the time that the
events giving rise to her lawsuit began, she was working as an information
and referral specialist in the call center of the county's Department of
Health and Human Services. In around May of 2008, Yasmin learned that the
county would be consolidating that call center with others into a new
Montgomery County 3-1-1 call center, referred to throughout the case as the
MC-3-1-1 center. 3-1-1 is the number that many counties and municipalities
use to provide non-emergency information and services to their residents,
just as 9-1-1 is used to provide emergency services. As an employee of one
of the call centers to be consolidated, Yasmin expected to be transferred
to the MC-3-1-1 call center. She was concerned, however, about whether she
would be able to use the technology in the new call center. She had been
using JAWS (Job Access With Speech) to access the computer programs with
which she needed to interact in order to provide accurate information to
callers, keep records of calls, and perform other tasks necessary for
resolving the concerns of callers. She immediately inquired of her
supervisor whether the software for the new call center would be accessible
and was told that her concerns would be addressed. She also began to
research accessible solutions herself, forwarding the information she found
to her supervisor. As the months wore on with no specific information about
what was coming, she escalated her inquiries to the county's Americans with
Disabilities Act compliance officer, the staff liaison for the Montgomery
County Commission on People with Disabilities, and other county officials.
She also met with Leslie Hamm, the manager of the new call center. She
received no specific information other than some vague assurances that her
concerns would be addressed.
Montgomery County ultimately procured a sophisticated software system
from the Oracle Corporation called Seibel Customer Relationship Management
(CRM). Yasmin was still unable to get any information about accessibility,
but she was also still scheduled to be transferred to the new call center
until as late as October of 2009; in fact, she was told that she would be
among the earliest group of call center employees to be transferred and
required to attend an orientation meeting at the new facility.
On November 9 of 2009, Yasmin left work for a three-week vacation to
India. She returned around Thanksgiving and, on the Friday following the
holiday, called Leslie Hamm to find out whether she should report to the MC-
3-1-1 call center or to her old office at Health and Human Services. She
was told to report to HHS because the county could not yet accommodate her
in the new call center. When she returned to her old office on Monday
morning, the heat wasn't turned on, and there was no one else in the
office. She spoke to Leslie Hamm and others about the heating problem
immediately, but she remained alone, answering the phone, in an unheated
office for ten days. At that time, she was moved to a new office space,
with heat and where she was no longer isolated. In discussions with county
officials about the situation, she was told that they were "working on
accessibility." She also continued to receive calls from county residents
as normal until February 4, when the calls suddenly stopped due to the
"soft launch" of the new call center, and she was left with no work to do.
Although she was still being paid, Yasmin was understandably upset by this
development; as she testified in court, "I wanted to work. I wanted to earn
my pay, and I wanted to be useful."
A couple of days after the MC-3-1-1 call center became operational,
Yasmin asked to be allowed to manage referrals to the county food bank, and
that request was granted. But those calls, at best, filled only three or
four hours of her workday, according to her testimony. She was later
assigned to take calls for the intake of adults needing protective
services, but that did not increase her workload substantially.
At the 2010 convention of the National Federation of the Blind,
Yasmin observed a representative of Oracle, who was also blind, using JAWS
to access a version of the software being used in the MC-3-1-1 Call Center,
and she conveyed what she learned to county officials. Despite this, she
was told on October 1 of 2010 by Ricky Wright, a human resources official,
in front of other coworkers, that she would never be transferred to MC-3-1-
1, that she would need to look for other county jobs, and that she should
forward her resumé to Mr. Wright so that she could be considered for other
positions. Mr. Wright told Yasmin that it would be an undue hardship for
the county to reconfigure the MC-3-1-1 call center software so that it
would be accessible to her, and this was the primary defense that
Montgomery County put forward in response to her lawsuit.
"I was devastated, frustrated," Yasmin told the court about her
reaction to the news she received from Ricky Wright. "I felt like I had
been left behind. In other words, the county had abandoned me." Yasmin
never received another position with the county, and for about three years
her official job title was changed from "information referral specialist"
to "support staff," a designation which indicated a lower skill level and
pay grade, although her pay was not cut. She testified that the change in
her job title made her feel "humiliated."
Since early 2010 Yasmin's primary job has been to handle referrals to
the county food bank, known as Manna. Initially customer service
representatives in the MC-3-1-1 call center would transfer Manna calls to
her, but eventually the referrals were simply emailed copies of an intake
form filled out by MC-3-1-1 employees. Yasmin testified that the
information taken by call center employees could have simply been emailed
directly to Manna instead of through her. In other words, her duties were
"make-work," and as a result she felt that she was "not useful."
All of these events, taking place over about two and a half years,
led to the filing of Yasmin's lawsuit in April of 2011. The lawsuit alleged
that Montgomery County violated Section 504 of the Rehabilitation Act of
1973 by "procuring and configuring computer database software that is
inaccessible to Plaintiff and other blind individuals; failing to modify
computer database software so that it is accessible to Plaintiff and other
blind individuals; denying Plaintiff access to the programs and activities
of the County that are made available to similarly situated non-disabled
individuals; and failing to provide Plaintiff full-time work opportunities
appropriate to her skill and experiences." The complaint asked the court to
order Montgomery County to modify the software and to reinstate Yasmin as
an information specialist in the MC-3-1-1 call center, as well as paying
her compensatory damages and attorney's fees.
Importantly, Yasmin's case rested not just on the county's refusal to
install accessible workplace software, but also its failure to give her
meaningful work to do. The county apparently believed that, as long as it
did not fire Yasmin or cut her pay, it was not discriminating against her.
Yasmin and her attorneys took a different position. As Joe Espo, Yasmin's
lead attorney, told the Maryland Daily Record just after the jury verdict:
"Giving someone a paycheck is not a reasonable accommodation. It's not just
a paycheck-it's the opportunity to do meaningful work and have the same
advancement and promotional opportunities as others in similar positions
do. It's very hard to demonstrate competence and achievement and to present
yourself for advancement if what you're doing is a bunch of make-work and
supervisors don't want you around. It's hard to excel at doing nothing."
As mentioned earlier, Montgomery County's primary defense was that
accommodating Yasmin in the MC-3-1-1 Call Center represented an undue
hardship. (The county's lawyers also tried, without success, to cast doubt
on Yasmin's skills and competence.) According to trial evidence, the cost
to modify the software would have been between $125,000 and $190,000. To
put that figure in perspective, the county spent $11 million to set up the
call center. Nonetheless, the trial judge ruled earlier in the case that
the county had proven its defense as a matter of law. That decision was
appealed, and the United States Court of Appeals for the Fourth Circuit
reversed the ruling, saying that the question of undue hardship must be
presented to a jury. On appeal, the county at one point attempted to argue
that the relevant number to use in judging the undue hardship question was
not the budget for the call center or the county's total budget, but its
budget for reasonable accommodations. That argument was rejected; the court
pointed out that, if this were the case, the county could simply avoid its
obligation to workers with disabilities by setting its reasonable
accommodation budget at zero.
When the case did go to trial, the jury was unpersuaded by the undue
hardship defense. The jury further ruled that the county had failed to
reasonably accommodate Yasmin, either in the MC-3-1-1 Call Center or
outside of it, and that its failure to transfer her to the call center was
an adverse employment action against her. The only disappointing aspect of
the jury's verdict was that it failed to award noneconomic damages for the
emotional distress that Yasmin experienced. Economic damages were not at
issue, since Yasmin's pay was not affected.
As this article goes to press, the trial judge has ordered the
parties in the case to engage in additional discovery, which is the legal
term for the process of acquiring evidence. More changes in technology have
occurred since the case was filed, and so additional evidence is needed on
what the county will need to do in order to accommodate Yasmin. Once that
evidence is obtained, Yasmin's attorneys will ask the court to order the
county to make the necessary modifications to the MC-3-1-1 call center so
that Yasmin can finally work there. This is logically the correct remedy,
but it remains to be seen whether the court will grant such a request.
Hopefully Yasmin will finally get the job that she should have had seven
years ago.
Often it seems that the public does not understand the concept of
accessibility or how the failure to incorporate it into the workplace
affects not only the employment prospects of the blind or others with
disabilities, but our basic dignity and status as first-class citizens as
well. But Yasmin and her attorneys successfully conveyed that understanding
to a Montgomery County jury, and that verdict must now be honored in some
way by the court. Yasmin's case is another example of the importance of
fighting discrimination when we encounter it, both as individuals and as
members of the National Federation of the Blind.
----------
Another Insulin Pump User
by Bridgit Kuenning-Pollpeter
From the Editor: In the April 2016 issue we ran an article about the
use of insulin pumps, trying to explain what they do, why a blind diabetic
might wish to use one, and some of the pitfalls that spring from less-than-
ideal accessibility when one cannot see a visual display. In that article
was the concern that newer pumps are not more accessible than their
predecessors and that those which can be used by the blind are extremely
limited.
Bridgit Kuenning-Pollpeter is a Federationist from Nebraska. She
serves as president of the Omaha Chapter in addition to serving on the
board of directors of the NFB of Nebraska. She is currently an MFA student,
studying creative writing at the University of Nebraska Omaha. She lives in
Omaha with her husband Ross and their son Declan. Bridgit was diagnosed
with diabetes at age four. She says diabetic treatment has changed so much
since she was diagnosed. She's been using an insulin pump for twelve years
and loves it despite the fact that no talking pump yet exists. Here is what
she says:
I have been a type 1 diabetic for thirty years. Going through the
gamut of diabetic methods and tools, I have seen a lot. Diabetes is an
individual experience, meaning what works for some doesn't work for
everyone. Certain protocols and treatments are essential for any diabetic:
performing frequent glucose tests, being mindful of carbs and nutrition,
taking insulin and/or other medicines if prescribed, doing exercise, and
engaging in general healthy living. However, the amount and level of
exercise I do may not be appropriate for you. Or you may be able to eat
pizza with little change in your glucose readings, while I may require a
lot more insulin to counterbalance the carbs. I may have fewer insulin
needs in a day, while you may need more. It can take time to figure out
what works best for each person. This includes deciding if using an insulin
pump is right for you.
I have been using a pump for twelve years now, and I love it. A quick
shout-out to my endocrinologist, who suggested I switch to a pump years
ago. He never blinked twice at the thought of a blind person using a pump,
and, in fact, was the one to initiate the conversation. I have had the best
control over my diabetes since switching.
The reasons I love the pump: It allows me more flexibility with when
and what I eat. I'm busy and active, and my schedule is not the same every
day. I'm not shackled to a rigid meal schedule. It allows me to set various
basal patterns throughout the day, simulating a pancreas better than most
insulin regimens. If I consistently run lower at certain times of the day,
I can lower basal rates for that time of day. If my weekend schedule is
vastly different from my weekday, I have an entirely different pattern I
can switch to for the weekend. With my pump I can actually set several
different basal patterns if I want. I also do not have to keep vials of
insulin and syringes on hand or insulin pens and syringe caps all the time.
The pump is on me at all times, and when I need to bolus, I press a button
on a pump. A bolus is the insulin you take after eating carbs.
In April's issue of the Braille Monitor, Veronica Elsea shared her
experience with several pumps. Being an Animas Ping user, I wanted to share
my experience, especially since I use the pump daily. Like Elsea, I used a
DelTec Cozmo for years. I loved it, and if Smiths Medical were still in
production, I would use the Cozmo. However, when the time came to switch
insulin pumps, I found the Animas Ping to be the most similar to the Cozmo.
I have now been using the Animas Ping for almost three years, and I have
not found it overly difficult to use and am generally happy with it.
Elsea states, "Most actions require more confirmation steps than they
do on many other pumps." I find this statement a bit misleading only
because it comes across as if many functions are difficult to access or
navigate, but in my experience, it's simply that the pump asks the user to
press okay after most steps as a security measure. For example, when
changing a cartridge, it will ask you to press okay for each function,
those being unwind, load, prime, and fill cannula. The same confirmation is
required when using the touch bolus button on the side of the pump. You
press the touch bolus, it beeps twice, you dial how much insulin you want
(each touch beeping), then it counts back what you delivered (making a beep
for each count), then it beeps twice again letting you know you can hit the
button to deliver the insulin. All this is done to ensure safety with the
pump. It may take a few seconds longer than some pumps, but I find it helps
me, making sure I'm doing the correct function before moving on. In a
nutshell, with most features it's a matter of pressing the okay button
after each function.
The Animas Ping only has five buttons. On the face of the pump, three
buttons are in a column to the right. The large round button on the bottom
is the okay button. Above okay are the up and down arrow, up being above
the down. On the side of the pump to the right is the touch bolus, between
the cartridge reservoir and battery. On the top right is an indented
button, which is the contrast button. For sighted or low-vision users, you
can change the contrast of the screen, making it easier to see visually. So
the button layout is simple and easy enough to use. The primary buttons you
use are okay and up and down arrow.
Elsea also states, "Would be able to enter BG manually if one could
verify by keypad beeps. As it is, pressing button a bit too hard can cause
scrolling, which would lead to errors." In three years I have never had
this happen. While it's unfortunate the pump does not beep each time you
press a main button on the face of the screen, I have never had a problem
with scrolling. The buttons are tactile and make a slight click which gives
audio confirmation. Each time I press a button, it does the function.
Scrolling has not been a concern, nor have I had errors due to this. If you
press and hold, then yes, it will scroll-similar to pressing a key on the
computer. If you hit it once, it does the command you want; if you hold it
down, it scrolls or does another command. Again, in three years I have
never had a problem with scrolling-and keep in mind that I use the pump
daily with no assistance.
If you want to enter glucose readings manually, it is possible, and
scrolling is not a major concern. I do not use this feature, but I do use
the temporary basal adjustment, which allows one to increase or decrease
basal rates for a certain period of time. I arrow through the percentages
and times, choose what I want, and set it. This is handy when exercising or
increasing activity, in which case you would decrease levels. Or if running
higher and bolus corrections are not helping, but you don't necessarily
need a permanent change, you can temporarily increase levels. I have never
had a problem with scrolling when using this feature.
Even with my Cozmo, I have always used the touch bolus when bolusing.
Because my carb/insulin ratio can change meal-to-meal, I do old-fashioned
carb counting in my head, then deliver it up with the touch bolus. You can
adjust this button so that each time you hit it, it dials a certain amount
of insulin. For me the touch bolus button is set to deliver a half unit of
insulin each time it's pressed. So if I need two units of insulin, I press
it four times. I often don't need much insulin, so this is why my unit is
set on half a unit. You can set it to deliver one unit or more with each
press, depending on your bolus needs.
Entering basal patterns can be done without sight. When entering the
basal pattern, it's always at the same place. As long as you can keep track
of your place, it's possible. I prefer to have sighted help, but it is
possible, and my husband (who is also blind) and I have done it before in a
pinch. This is another function in which I have never had a problem with
scrolling.
It is true that custom alarms cannot be set for low battery or low
cartridge, but generally you know when a cartridge is low or the battery
needs to be changed. The Animas Ping suggests using lithium batteries,
which last up to three months, while regular batteries last about a month.
So one would have a good idea when the battery needs to be changed. For me,
200 units of insulin lasts about a week, so when I hear an alarm at the end
of the week, I'm 99 percent positive my cartridge needs changing. Now in
three years I've had one alarm alert me that was not a battery or low
cartridge warning. I knew instantly it was not one of these alarms because
it was not time for either to be changed. I had to ask for sighted
assistance to read the screen to find out what the alarm was. It was
nothing major, but I was unable to determine the problem alone.
Here's a handy tool I've used for my pump along with other things:
using the FaceTime feature on my iPhone works well if I need sighted help.
Someone can read the screen of my pump right over the phone. I have only
had to do this a handful of times, but it works well.
I have either memorized menus or have written directions I follow for
menus for the functions I can access. Yes, some functions are a bit
complicated to follow even with written directions, but enough of the pump
is available to access in this manner to allow me to use it successfully.
My A1-C, which determines glucose levels over a three-month period, is
great, and my overall health is good, so this would demonstrate that if you
choose, using an insulin pump can be beneficial to diabetic management. And
the Animas Ping is a choice that works well for nonvisual users. In my
personal experience, considering it has no talking function (which is what
we truly need), it has been beneficial and works well enough, allowing me
to manage my insulin needs and diabetic care.
----------
[PHOTO CAPTION: Marion Gwizdala]
Balancing Service Animal Users' and Businesses' Rights and Responsibilities
by Marion Gwizdala
From the Editor: In the May 2015 issue of the Braille Monitor, the
president of the National Association of Guide Dog Users discusses the
problem caused when members of the public pretend to have service animals
in order to take advantage of civil rights legislation implemented to allow
people with disabilities to be accompanied by specially trained animals. In
the article Marion Gwizdala questions whether the problem is of sufficient
urgency to warrant legislation and opines that the promoters of standards
for service dogs are motivated more by the desire to become the be-all and
end-all of service dogs than by the desire to protect the public from those
who would fraudulently call their pets service animals. In this article he
discusses the definition of a service dog in the Americans with
Disabilities Act and its accompanying regulations, argues that existing
regulations are sufficient, and argues that many state laws and proposals
are in violation of federal law. He also spells out the rights of
businesses to question those accompanied by an animal to determine whether
it is indeed a service animal as defined by the ADA. Here is what he says:
Immanuel Kant wrote, "In law a man is guilty when he violates the
rights of others; in ethics he is guilty if he only thinks of doing so." In
my previous article I shared my contention that Assistance Dogs
International (ADI) seems to be positioning itself as the sole authority
for all things service animal related and is manipulating the public to
believe that prohibiting the sale of service animal gear over the internet
and more restrictive regulations are beneficial and necessary to protect
the rights of service dog users. In support of its assertions, ADI enlisted
consumers of Canine Companions for Independence (CCI) to be the subjects of
a number of articles about the problem of fake service dogs. My contention
is that ADI has created the perception of a problem where none exists in
order to shore up their position as the certifying body of all things
service animal; however, the created perception is false propaganda.
A number of cases have come to our attention in which the remedies
available to a guide dog user in a particular state were not pursued
because of the conflicts between state and federal laws. In Michigan when a
guide dog user who was denied access to a nationally-recognized sandwich
shop filed a criminal complaint against the company, the state attorney
refused to pursue the case because Michigan law requires the presentation
of documentation as a condition of access, and the guide dog user refused
to comply with the manager's request for identification. In North Carolina
a guide dog user who was denied medical treatment by his physician because
of the presence of his guide dog was unable to pursue charges because his
guide dog was not listed on a state registry. Many other states have
provisions incongruent with the ADA, and the National Association of Guide
Dog Users, through our affiliates, is working diligently to bring all state
statutes into congruency with the ADA.
I believe the best approach is to educate ourselves about the mutual
rights and responsibilities of service dog users and to empower businesses
by having this dialogue with them. So, let's examine the implementing
regulations of the Americans with Disabilities Act found in the Code of
Federal Regulations (CFR) to find out for ourselves if the regulations are
inadequate to prevent owners of untrained pets from manipulating the law.
We will also examine how these regulations protect the rights of places of
public accommodation when an animal behaves in a manner that compromises
the rights of the business. Those interested in reading the entire text of
these regulations can do so by visiting <http://www.nagdu.org>.
The implementing regulations of the Americans with Disabilities Act
define a service animal as, "any dog that is individually trained to do
work or perform tasks for the benefit of an individual with a disability,
including a physical, sensory, psychiatric, intellectual, or other mental
disability" (28 CFR Section 35.104 & 28 CFR Section 36.104). Though this
definition only mentions dogs as service animals, miniature horses are also
included through other regulations (28 CFR Section 35.136(i) & 28 CFR
Section 36.302(c)(9)). The DOJ states that the work or tasks must be
directly related to an individual's disability but do not include "the
crime deterrent effects of an animal's presence and the provision of
emotional support, well-being, comfort, or companionship."
The most important element in defining a service animal is found in
the tasks the dog has been trained to perform. It is not sufficient that a
dog is trained in basic obedience; rather, the regulations clearly state
the tasks the dog performs must be directly related to the mitigation of
the disability. Furthermore, it is not sufficient that the mere presence of
the dog has a calming effect, plainly stating that the innate ability of a
dog to calm someone or react in a manner in which it has not been trained
does not qualify a dog as a service dog under the ADA. This leads us to the
question of how a public entity or place of public accommodation can
determine if a dog is a service dog and the businesses' rights under the
ADA.
Because the implementing regulations of the Americans with
Disabilities Act provide for access to disabled individuals accompanied by
a service animal and the definition is clear about what constitutes a
service animal, a business has the right to ask questions to determine if a
dog meets the definition of "service animal." And the person has the
obligation to answer the questions, known as "credible assurance." Because
the Act applies to individuals who are disabled, a business may ask if the
dog is a service animal required because of a disability. The type and
extent of the disability is irrelevant and, for this reason, no inquiries
about the nature or extent of the disability may be made. A business may
also ask what work or task the animal has been trained to perform (28 CFR
Section 35. & 28 CFR Section 36.302(c)(6)). These regulations also provide
that even "these inquiries may not be made when it is readily apparent that
an animal is trained to do work or perform tasks for an individual with a
disability, e.g., the dog is observed guiding an individual who is blind or
has low vision, pulling a person's wheelchair, or providing assistance with
stability or balance to an individual with an observable mobility
disability" (28 CFR Section 35.136(f) & 28 CFR 36.302(c)(6)). The
regulations do not allow businesses to require documentation to prove that
the animal has been certified, trained, or licensed as a service animal as
a condition of access. A service dog is not required to wear any special
harnesses, coats, or other gear identifying it as a service animal.
Businesses may observe the animal working but may not interfere with the
animal or its use.
I regularly hear from businesses who call the NAGDU Information &
Advocacy Hotline telling me about someone who refused to answer these
questions, claiming it was a violation of their privacy and that they were
not required to answer them. My best guidance is that, should a person
choose to use a service dog, they accept the responsibilities outlined by
the law and its regulations. If a person refuses to answer these questions,
a business is fully justified in refusing access to the dog.
We want businesses to know that the rights of disabled individuals
accompanied by service animals are not absolute. With every right there are
responsibilities, including
. The animal must be kept on a leash, harness, or tether unless doing so
interferes with the work or tasks the animal is trained to perform. If
the harness, leash, or tether interferes with the work of the animal,
it must be kept under control by voice, signals, or other methods (28
CFR Section 35.136(d) & 28 CFR Section 302(c)(4));
. The animal must not pose a "direct threat," defined as "a significant
risk to the health or safety of others that cannot be eliminated by a
reasonable modification of policies, practices, or procedures" (42 USC
12182(b)(3));
. The animal must be housebroken. (28 CFR Section 35.136(b)(2) & 28 CFR
Section 36.302(c)(2)(ii))
If a business appropriately excludes an animal, it must still allow
the individual the right to access the business without the animal being
present. I also suggest that a business document the reasons for the
exclusion. Should a lawsuit be filed, it will be up to the business to
demonstrate that it properly denied the access, and it will be up to the
individual to demonstrate that he or she is a person with a disability and
that his or her dog meets the definition of a service animal.
A business may not restrict the access of an individual with a
disability accompanied by a service dog. Individuals accompanied by service
animals are allowed to access all areas of the business where members of
the public, program participants, clients, customers, patrons, or invitees,
as relevant, are allowed to go (28 CFR Section 35.136(g) & 28 CFR Section
36.302(c)(7)).
Businesses are not required to provide care or supervision for the
animal. This is not to say that a business may not choose to do so, only
that they are not required to do so. Some businesses, such as amusement
parks and zoos, provide portable crates for service dogs so that their
customers who use service dogs can fully enjoy themselves when it is not
feasible to allow the service dog. Such would be the case on certain
amusement rides or in the close contact areas of zoos.
A business may not impose any fees or charges due to the presence of
the service dog even if they charge such fees to those who bring pets;
however, the service dog user is responsible for any damage caused by the
dog if it is the policy of the business to charge for such damage. So a
hotel, taxicab, or other business that allows pets may not impose a pet
deposit, cleaning fee, or other surcharge to a person who uses a service
dog. If the service dog causes damage over and above normal wear and tear,
and it is the customary policy of that business to charge for damage caused
by pets or patrons, the business may charge the individual for the damage
caused.
Businesses often ask what they should do if they have reason to
suspect a dog is not a service dog. I generally suggest they start by
asking the above questions. Most of us who use service dogs do not mind
answering them. Those who may be imposters may wrongly assert they do not
need to answer these inquiries. If they cannot or will not give credible
assurance that the dog is a service dog, a business has the right to refuse
admittance. If a business follows the rules and is threatened with a
lawsuit, the threat is likely an attempt to intimidate. If a business knows
its rights and follows these guidelines, it is protecting itself from such
lawsuits. If the business doubts the credibility of the person seeking
access after asking these questions and getting the right answers, I
suggest businesses err on the side of permissiveness. It is far better to
allow a well-behaved pet access than to deny a legitimate service dog team
and face legal action. After all, if the dog is not well-behaved-service
dog or not-a business has the right to ask that the dog be removed.
As the leading membership and advocacy organization for guide and
other service dog users, it is up to us to educate businesses about our
rights and responsibilities. The National Association of Guide Dog Users
has many tools to help initiate this dialogue. Our newly edited "Meeting a
Working Guide Dog Team" brochure is an impressive piece, complete with
pictures of guide dog teams in action. Our latest addition to the
Independence Market is our 4-inch x 6-inch "Service Animals Welcome" decal.
These decals require prior authorization for receipt due to the expense
involved in creating them, so please send an email message to
<info at nagdu.org> to get your authorization. We are also producing video
programs about guide dogs and will pass the word around when they are
available. Our first video program, "Service Animals in Zoos," will be
screened during our annual meeting in Orlando on July 2 at 7:00 p.m.
If you would like to be a part of the most dynamic organization of
guide dog users in the country and shape public policy concerning guide
dogs and other service dogs, becoming a member of the National Association
of Guide Dog Users is easy. If there is an affiliate NAGDU division in your
state, joining that division makes you a member of NAGDU. If there is no
division in your affiliate and you would like to create one, please get in
touch with us. You can check out our affiliate division contact list by
visiting our website. You can also join NAGDU by going to our website.
While you are there, check out the new design and features of the site. We
know you will like what we have done! The command we give our dogs is the
movement we share: Forward!
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[PHOTO/CAPTION: Barbara Loos]
Corky Canvas
by Barbara Loos
From the Editor: Sometimes we are asked to go way beyond our limits,
risking that what we are asked to do may be impossible. In this article
Barbara Loos is urged to take on a recreation activity and accepts the
challenge. Here is her story:
I think it is safe to say that all of us have scars from childhood
wounds that can continue to affect our lives, sometimes festering into
adulthood. When one of these wounds is reopened, we have a fresh
opportunity to clean it out and offset its negative impact. We can, of
course, choose either to accept or to reject that opportunity. In the
National Federation of the Blind we encourage one another to take advantage
of such chances.
On December 12, 2012, (I remember the date partly because I like
dates with patterns like 12/12/12) I was sitting on the couch at my friend
Barb's home at a meeting of Symphony Circle, a church women's group to
which I belong. Angie, a new member, suggested in response to an inquiry
about possible fun ideas for us to consider, "How about Corky Canvas?"
After her brief explanation that we would go and all paint the same
picture by watching the instructor and following directions, I blurted,
"That probably counts me out, since that sounds like a pretty visual
experience to me."
It felt like the Christmas spirit that had, up to that point, filled
the room with laughter and holiday banter, got up and left. Angie's
deflated, rapid fire, "Oh. I'm sorry. I hadn't thought of that. I didn't
mean to be inconsiderate. Maybe that's not such a good idea for Circle, but
I'd like to try it sometime, and they want groups ..."
As her sentence was trailing off, other voices were examining,
smoothing out, and ultimately folding up the plan for further consideration
in the new year. I apologized for my hasty comments, Angie offered to call
to see what accommodations might be available, and the conversation soon
regained its festive flavor. But I continued to feel a nagging regret.
The friend with whom I rode home said she was sure we would work
something out that we could all enjoy. I appreciated her optimism, but
didn't feel good about what I had done. It wasn't right to smear Angie with
the residue of the scar tissue I had accumulated over the years from
uncomfortable attempts at inclusion in society.
This thing reminded me of the milk-carton aluminum-pie-tin birdfeeder
incident that happened over half a century ago in Girl Scouts. I was
admonished by the troop leader for reaching for the materials, and
Elizabeth Miller was asked to make two of them. Afterward, the leader said
in front of everyone what a good job I had done. Feeling both embarrassed
and incensed, I said the good work was Elizabeth's, and she should get the
credit. I wanted to defend my ability to have done it myself if someone had
shown me how, but I wasn't altogether sure I could, and the authority with
which the leader had dismissed my initial attempt dashed what little
confidence I had brought to the table. Would this Corky Canvas thing help
me to offset that kind of experience, or would it just lead to yet another
scar?
Once in a while during the holidays and beyond, I considered
contacting Angie. But, knowing that we weren't meeting in January, I kept
putting it off. I wasn't really sure what to say, and part of me just
wanted the whole thing to go away.
On February 4, 2013, I received an email message from her that added
a jolt of shame to the regret I had felt that December night. How had I let
my own scars and insecurities keep me from at least reaching out to her?
In part, she said, "... I just wanted to apologize if I hurt your
feelings over Corky Canvas. It was never my intention, and I clearly wasn't
thinking when I suggested it as an idea. Afterwards I felt really bad about
it. I did however contact them to see if they could accommodate you. They
said they would be happy to if we could help you paint. I am not sure how
you feel about that. I would be happy to help in any way I can if you think
you want to give it a try. If not, I understand. Anyways, I don't want you
to have any bad feelings towards me, so I hope you will accept my sincere
apology."
On February 6, I responded, "Angie, I'm sorry you spent as much as a
second worrying about having hurt my feelings. Actually, I like the fact
that you took initiative in suggesting an idea for something fun for Circle
to do. I came away from that discussion hoping that I hadn't done anything
to cause you to feel shot down for bringing it up.
"The reason I spoke up so quickly is that, since assertiveness often
feels unnatural to me, if I don't speak up right away, I'll talk myself out
of doing so and often regret it later. The trade-off is that now sometimes
I think I say something when waiting would be better. I hope I live long
enough to strike a balance someday.
"The Corky Canvas definitely takes me out of my comfort zone, but
that's not altogether a bad thing. It's good for me to go there sometimes.
I don't, however, want either to have accommodating me become the focus of
attention or to have my sitting on the sidelines while others participate
become the solution, since the activity really is pretty much a visual
thing.
"For me, a movie, however well described, has not yet trumped a book
for experiencing something solo. Camaraderie is worth a lot, though, so
I'll go to movies sometimes for that. My husband, who is also blind, does
enjoy movies, either by himself or with others, which just goes to show
that not all blind folks are any more alike than all sighted folks are.
"I appreciate your writing and your offer of assistance, and I very
much like spending time with Symphony Circle, so I haven't made up my mind
about this yet. I know I'll learn something if I go, because, if I decide
to do it, I'll be intentional about that. Whether or not I can let myself
lighten up and really enjoy it is still up for grabs.
"Again, I want to emphasize that I'm glad you brought up this idea. I
prefer that people be who they are around me and allow me to be me, which
includes deciding what to do when things like this arise.
"Thank you for writing. I look forward to seeing you next week at
Circle."
On April 26, Trish, a long-time friend from Circle, emailed, "Angie
said you were signed up for painting at Corky Canvas next Wednesday, so I'm
writing to see if you want me to pick you up. I love it that you are going
to try painting. It should be fun. It starts at 6:30, so I'll be by to get
you about 6:10 or so. Have a great weekend. See you Wednesday."
I responded, "Thank you, Trish. I really appreciate the ride. I have
no idea how this is going to turn out, but I seem to be into trying quite a
few things-once, anyway.
"I look forward to seeing you on Wednesday. I hope you have a good
weekend. It looks like the weather is finally going to be like spring."
As it turned out, May 1, the evening in question, was anything but
spring-like. Not only was it cold, but also there was what is often
referred to here as a "wintery mix" falling from the sky. My twinges of
hope that the event might be called off faded into nothingness when Trish,
cheerful as always, arrived at my home.
Others, both from Symphony Circle and elsewhere, were hurrying from
their cars and gathering just inside the door when we got there. The woman
in charge welcomed us and invited us to pick up a palate (in the form of a
paper plate) and arrange dollops of paint of specified colors around the
edges. I had a sinking feeling as Trish handed me hers and filled mine. Not
only would I not know which color was which, but also there were no
separate compartments for the dollops.
After Trish introduced me to a friend of hers she was surprised to
see there, we sat down beside each other at our group's assigned table.
There I found a canvas balanced on an easel in an almost vertical position.
I figured out immediately that moving it forward even a little caused it to
come into contact with that of Penny, the person across the narrow table
from me. Trish's abutted Angie's, and Michelle's was on its own beside
hers. No one else from Circle was available to paint that evening. Beside
each of us on the table were three brushes, a small cup of water, and a
couple paper towels.
Soon our instructor's voice cut into the blare of the overhead music
to give us a preview of the evening's activities. After reminding us that
we could, if we chose, paint whatever we pleased, she said she would be
providing instructions for the group picture, a vase of flowers. We were
invited to accompany our painting with wines, which she listed. Then she
said she was going to give us formal definitions for the kinds of brushes
each of us had at our places. "There's the large one, called the big brush;
the middle-sized one, called the medium brush; and the small one, called
the little brush."
After the laughter subsided, she asked us to gauge the center of our
canvases and use black paint to draw the outline of a squatty vase, leaving
an inch or so at the bottom, and allowing for plenty of room at the top for
a border and some flowers.
Although I had considered calling ahead to see if there might be
something I could bring to make this project more doable, I decided not to
do that. I thought I might either be talked out of coming or talk myself
out of it. Deciding to wing it was very out of character for me, but here I
was. I accepted Trish's offer of assistance, thinking that perhaps a
Braille ruler and a bendable material with which to make a template to
paint within could have put me more in control of this part of the
painting.
Once the vase outline was completed, we were told to put a small
amount of black paint into our red, mix them together, and cover the entire
rest of the canvas, including all four edges, with that color. That would
create a brick red background.
After Trish helped me mix the colors, I did as directed, asking to be
informed about any spots I missed, if I was coming too close to the outline
of the vase, and when I needed to refill my brush. At that point the
bartender, Kylie, who is an art instructor and said she wasn't all that
busy at the bar, offered to guide my hand around the vase. At first I felt
somewhat self-conscious about that; but, having no ready alternatives to
suggest, I willed myself to relax and embrace the moment.
The next step was to fill in the vase with black paint. Again, Kylie
guided my hand for the edges, and I did some freehand in the center with
prompting for spots I missed, and intermittent brush refills.
Next we used white with a little pink and yellow mixed in to paint
flowers using the medium brush. I again allowed Kylie to guide my hand,
making six-petaled flowers at various levels above the vase.
When the instructions were given for stems, the woman said something
like, "Just do a little here, then a little there, and be sure to pick up
your brush as you go." Imagining little pieces of stem strewn about the
canvas, I wondered how that could possibly make a painting that would be
appealing to anyone. I figured that some kind of optical illusion was
afoot.
When Kylie took my hand, which was already holding the little brush
as instructed, and dabbed the green paint, I let the question hang in my
mind as she began. "Oh," I inwardly said as she gently stroked down, raised
the brush, moved down a bit, continued the trajectory, and performed the
same kinds of strokes.
"Are you raising the brush so that it will look like the stem goes
behind the flower that is lower than the one on top?" I asked.
"Yes," she answered. "And we'll do the same thing to complete the
other stems."
There it was again-that pesky perspective thing, in which things that
are behind one another are accounted for visually by disappearing part of
the one in back. I was relieved that the concept wasn't any more abstract
than that.
By the time we got to the point of putting white polka dots on the
vase, I had become comfortable enough with Kylie to talk about possible
ways of creating boundaries for what was being painted. I mentioned
stencils that could be painted within or a shape to be painted around. She
created a stencil made of construction paper with a circle to be painted
within. Although construction paper creates a very shallow border and is
both porous and prone to disintegrating when dampened, I was pleased that
she understood what I was suggesting and was willing to act upon it.
Because she only made one "dot," it needed to be moved to various locations
to create the desired effect. After doing several whole circles, she guided
my brush to put partial ones at the edge of the vase to suggest roundness.
After putting the finishing touches on our paintings by using a
tapping motion with the little brush to put five black dots in the center
of each flower, adding small white polka dots just below the rim and just
above the bottom of the vase, and scattering a few loose petals beside the
vase, we were instructed to let our canvases dry for a bit before gathering
for group photos.
As Angie and I stood at the sink washing the remains of paint from
our hands during this interim, she leaned in and quietly confided, "I'm so
glad you came. I was hoping you would, and," lowering her voice almost to a
whisper, "I even prayed about it."
"I did, too," I confessed. "And I'm glad I came, too. Thank you for
making it happen for us."
Photos completed, coats donned, and paintings loosely wrapped, we
stepped out into the fizz of crystalline snow blanketing the world in tiny,
sleet-like beads. The crunch of its accumulation underfoot and its
relentless pelting from above caused scurrying to vehicles, remaining
mindful of the need to protect our masterpieces against the moisture,
while, at the same time, guarding against smudging spots not yet altogether
dry. By then, though, I felt like, whatever happened to my canvas, the
memory of this night would find itself on the plus side of changing what it
meant to be blind in a positive way, not only for me, but also for those
with whom I had shared it.
"What fun!" Trish exclaimed, once our paintings were safely stowed
and she was pulling onto the slushy street. "All the paintings looked
great, too! I'm so glad you gave it a try."
"It really was fun," I acknowledged. "And I'm glad I got out of my
comfort zone long enough to find that out."
"Would you do it again?" she asked.
"I don't know," I said, reflecting on how much assistance I had
accepted and how I depended entirely on feedback from others for
confirmation of its appeal. "If so, I would want to work on some ways to be
more in control of what I was doing. And I would still prefer to work with
three-dimensional objects or materials with properties like varying texture
that I could experience myself. Would you do it again?" I inquired.
"I would," she said, "but I'd also like to try some of the other
painting options in town." There we were, true to form-she already up for
the next adventure; I willing to consider, but somewhat hesitant. Over the
years we have shared many cherished moments.
As she dropped me off that night, I thanked God for this experience.
Among other things, it gave me a chance to reopen the bird feeder wound and
allow for some healing. There is, of course, still a scar. But it is no
longer festering underneath, and that's worth a lot to me.
----------
[PHOTO/CAPTION: Danielle Trevino smiles broadly as she sits beside her
guide dog, Katie.]
Facing the Tweetbook: Getting Linked into Social Media
by Danielle Trevino
From the Editor: Danielle is the coordinator for social media and
member engagement for the National Federation of the Blind. She is taking
us into the new frontier of social media by demonstrating its value and
teaching us how to use it with assistive technology. Here she offers a
primer to help those who are just trying to get started in this sometimes-
confusing world of the internet and social media.
Social media was once considered a fad. A mere twelve years ago,
"liking" something didn't mean double-tapping on a button and "tweeting"
was a verb reserved for birds and anyone singing Rockin' Robin. Once smart
phones became more affordable, available, and accessible, the world saw a
rapid increase in the use of social media.
Nowadays, you'd be hard pressed to find anyone over the age of six
who doesn't know what social media is, and just as the general public has
embraced these networks, so have businesses and nonprofits.
So of the hundreds of thousands of nonprofits on social media, what
sets the National Federation of the Blind apart? Why should people join us
and/or fund us? The answer is simple: we change lives. Whether it's putting
a free cane in the hands of a person who hasn't been able to get around
independently, advocating for changes to laws on Capitol Hill, establishing
BELL programs across the country so that blind children can practice their
Braille skills, or giving away thousands of dollars in scholarships, the
NFB really does work every day so that blind people can live the lives we
want. Ours is a story worth sharing, and today the most powerful way to do
that is through social media. I know that for many, the idea of using
Facebook or Twitter is daunting, but I can assure you, it's as easy as one,
two, share.
Let's start with a bit of history. In 2004 Mark Zuckerberg, a student
at Harvard, created thefacebook, a website designed for his fellow students
to connect with one another. It was very simple back then and one of its
draws was the exclusivity of it. The site quickly expanded to grant access
to all students with a .edu email address. By 2006, Facebook was available
to anyone age thirteen and up. More features were added, and today it is a
robust platform on which we can share every bit of our lives if we want to.
Once you're signed up the amount of content you create is up to you. You
can do anything from occasionally posting a picture or status update to
giving your network a play-by-play account of your day complete with photo,
video, and web links. Organizations, such as the NFB, can leverage the page
feature which allows users to create profiles specifically about the
company or nonprofit they want to showcase. Most of our affiliates and some
of our chapters and divisions have very active Facebook pages.
In 2006, just as Facebook was being opened up to the world, Twitter
came along. A couple of friends wanted a way to send messages to the
internet using text message, and they called their invention Twitter.
Though much simpler to use, it is much more limiting in its features. For
example, a Tweet has a limit of one hundred and forty characters. However,
that is more than enough to share Federation news. You can also upload
pictures and video to Twitter, but these options can end up taking up all
of your character count. The best way to post is to say a few words and
then send your followers to a web link.
Though there are other platforms such as Linked-in, Pinterest, and
SnapChat, Twitter and Facebook are the most popular and accessible.
So now that you know the background and basic functions of the two
platforms, let's take a minute for a short vocabulary lesson, starting with
Facebook. The two words you need to keep in mind are: like and share.
To like something in the normal sense of the word is to approve of,
appreciate, agree with, or believe in something. That's exactly what it
means on Facebook, only the secondary definition is to hit the "like"
button. It looks like a hand giving a thumbs-up, and this is something you
want for your posts; you want people to "like" them. The more likes, the
more popular your post is.
Sharing posts is also something you want, even more than having
people like your post. When someone shares your post, all of the people in
their network of friends see it, including people that you don't know and
aren't friends with. In this way, your post can spread and be viewed by
thousands more, and might reach someone who needs the NFB in their life.
On Twitter the case is very similar. You want people to "favorite"
(like) and "retweet" (share) your posts.
So now that you know the basics, how do you use your newfound
knowledge to spread the Federation word? It's quite easy! You can always
start by liking and sharing the NFB's posts. You can find the national
organization on Facebook by searching for "National Federation of the
Blind," and liking our page. You can find us on Twitter by following
@NFB_Voice. Most affiliates have established social media pages that you
can follow and share content from. You can also simply write your own posts
about how the NFB helps you live the life you want. Your networks will like
and share your words, and they just might reach someone who needs to hear
our message of love, hope, and determination.
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[PHOTO/CAPTION: Gabe Cazares]
Loan Discharge Program
by Gabe Cazares
From the Editor: Gabe is a governmental affairs specialist for the
National Federation of the Blind and brings to his job the ability to write
and speak passionately about issues confronting the blind and the
legislative proposals to address them. This article will be of particular
interest to you if you or your parent received a government loan for your
college education which you or your parent now cannot repay due to your
disability. Here's what he has to say:
Recently the Obama Administration announced changes to its Total and
Permanent Disability Discharge (TPD) Program. The TPD Program relieves
individuals from their responsibility of repaying, on the basis of a total
and permanent disability, the following types of loans: William D. Ford
Federal Direct Loan, Federal Family Education Loan, and/or Federal Perkins
Loan, or completing a TEACH Grant service obligation.
In 2012 the Obama administration took steps to make it easier for
qualifying individuals with disabilities to use their Social Security
designation to apply for the program. Despite this effort, the
administration saw a very small increase in the number of applicants. On
April 12, 2016, the Obama Administration announced that the United States
Department of Education, in conjunction with the Social Security
Administration (SSA), began a match program in which those recipients of
Social Security benefits with the specific designation of medical
improvement not expected, who also qualify for the loan discharge program,
are being identified between the two agencies. Upon its first review, the
Departments of Education and Social Security identified 387,000
individuals. Of those identified 179,000 are currently in default of their
loans.
How does the TDP program work?
In order to qualify, an individual must have a total and permanent
disability as defined by the Veterans Administration determination of
employability due to a service-connected disability, or the Social Security
Administration's designation of medical improvement not expected, or by
certification by a qualified medical professional. Starting April 18, 2016,
qualifying individuals began to receive letters from the Department of
Education explaining step-by-step how they can have their loans discharged.
These explanations also include the tax implications of a discharge; the
government can-in most cases-tax the loan amount forgiven.
Individuals with disabilities will no longer have to submit proof of
disability and can simply fill out and sign a customized application.
Letters will be going out over a sixteen-week period, with a second letter
following up in 120 days. If a qualified individual does not receive
notification, he or she can follow the necessary steps found on the
Department of Education's website <https://studentaid.ed.gov/sa/repay-
loans/forgiveness-cancellation/disability-discharge>.
Once approved
Once approved, your loan or TEACH Grant service obligation is
discharged on the basis of a total and permanent disability. However, those
who discharge their loans under a Social Security designation or a
physician's authorization will be subject to a three-year monitoring period
that begins on the day the discharge is approved. During this three-year
monitoring period, "loans can be reinstated for repayment if:
1. You have annual employment earnings that exceed the poverty guideline
amount for a family of two in your state, regardless of your actual
family size;
2. You receive a new William D. Ford Federal Direct Loan Program loan
(Direct Loan), Federal Perkins Loan Program loan (Perkins Loan), or
TEACH Grant;
3. A disbursement of a Direct Loan, Perkins Loan, or TEACH Grant that you
received before the discharge date is made, and you do not ensure the
return of the full amount of the disbursement within 120 days of the
disbursement date; or
4. You receive a notice from the SSA stating that you are no longer
totally and permanently disabled, or that your disability review will
no longer be the five-year or seven-year review period indicated in
your most recent SSA notice of award for Social Security Disability
Insurance (SSDI) or Supplemental Security Income (SSI) benefits."
A word of caution to readers considering this program: in 2016, 100
percent of the federal poverty level for a family of two is $16,020. If
your annual compensation exceeds this amount, or if you expect to soon be
making more than this allotted amount annually, you do not qualify for a
TDP discharge. The federal poverty level is adjusted from year to year. It
is also important to note that these monitoring requirements do not apply
to individuals qualifying under the Veterans Administration determination
of employability due to a service-connected disability. When determining if
this program is best for you, it is important to consider all current and
future plans for employment.
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[PHOTO CAPTION: Deborah Kent]
Living in Three Dimensions
by Deborah Kent
From the Editor: Deborah Kent is a well-known writer of children's
books, the editor of Future Reflections, the vice president of the National
Federation of the Blind of Illinois, and a reflective and articulate
observer of life as a blind person. "Living in Three Dimensions" was
originally published as "Vivre en Trois Dimensions" in Revue des Lettres et
de Traduction, No. 15: La Main, published by Universite Saint-Esprit de
Kaslik, Junieh, Lebanon, 2013. The anthology was published around the theme
of the hand, and when a friend of hers mentioned it, Deborah offered to
contribute something from her unique perspective. She found a translator to
put her work into French, but here is the original English version:
The poison bottle stands on a shelf above my desk. Sometimes I pause
in my work, lift it down, and turn it in my hands. It is about three inches
tall and made of clear glass-before I wrote that statement I checked with
my sighted daughter just to be sure. Unlike an ordinary bottle, it is flat
on one side, as though it were meant to stand flush against a wall. The
flat side is perfectly smooth, but the rounded side is scored with
distinct, vertical ridges from top to bottom.
I found the poison bottle in a little antique shop in California. The
place was crammed floor to ceiling with odd bits from bygone years, and to
my delight, nothing was hidden behind glass. The shopkeeper was talking to
another customer, and I hoped he was too busy to notice me as I feasted
upon the tactile cacophony. I made fresh discoveries everywhere I reached-a
wind-up doll, a carpet sweeper, a pile of carved picture frames, a clothes
wringer, an assortment of buggy wheels and harness parts.
"Are you looking for something?"
The shopkeeper had seen me after all. My hands dropped to my sides,
and I braced myself for the inevitable admonition. Gentle or stern, it
would mean the same thing: "Please don't touch."
"You have such interesting things here," I said, trying to distract
him. "It must be fun to collect them all."
He hesitated. I didn't breathe. "Come with me," he said. "I want to
show you something."
I followed his footsteps down a narrow aisle, brushing past shelves
to right and left, and heard him move some cartons aside. "They made these
in the 1850s, before electric lights came in," the shopkeeper said, placing
the poison bottle in my hand. "If you got up in the night to take your
medicine, you probably didn't bother to light a lantern. You did everything
by touch. Chances are you didn't have much shelf space, so your rat poison
might be right next to your concoction for headaches. Poison bottles were
designed so you could distinguish them in the dark, with your hands."
After I brought the poison bottle home, I tried to think of objects
in general use today that are specifically made with touch in mind. My list
was pitifully brief. Computer keyboards have a raised dot on the F and J
keys to help the user position his/her hands without looking, and the 5 on
a telephone keypad is also marked with a dot. It seems a paltry concession
to the hand, compared to the myriad appliances and devices that cater to
vision. Colorful packaging; sleek, buttonless phone screens; and the
dazzling graphics of webpages all testify to the primacy of sight. The hand-
despite its capacity to gauge size and weight, texture, shape, and detail-
has been rendered nearly superfluous as a means of perception.
As a blind child I was blessed with parents who understood that touch
was my portal to knowledge. When I was three or four, my mother showed me
split-rail fences, mailboxes, fire hydrants, lawn chairs, birdbaths, and
telephone poles. My father took me for walks in the woods and showed me
acorns, mushrooms, and the footprints of rabbits and raccoons. Together we
explored the construction sites in our suburban development. In half-
finished houses I learned that doors and windows fit into frames and
discovered that bathroom pipes descend through holes in the flooring. My
hands gave me a vast repertoire of information that has endured and
expanded throughout my life.
The desire to touch was not unique to me as a blind child. All
children have a hunger to touch the objects in their environment. In fact,
the eagerness to touch motivates most early movement. When Baby Sarah spots
a bright pink rattle across the room, she is not content to lie on the
carpet and admire it from afar. She wriggles forward, focused and
determined, until the rattle is in her grasp. Now she is free to learn
about all its properties. She rubs it and pats it, feeling its hardness and
its smooth, rounded shape. She shakes it and listens to its mysterious
clattering sound. She puts the handle into her mouth and explores it with
her tongue and gums. Her hands bring the rattle close and give her an
intimate knowledge that she would miss if she only viewed the object from a
distance.
Nevertheless, touch is highly subject to regulation, and the rules go
into effect by the time a child is old enough to walk. "Don't touch the
Christmas ornaments-you'll break them!" "Don't touch Mommy's scissors-
you'll get hurt!" "Keep your hands to yourself-that doesn't belong to you!"
"Just look at it. Don't touch! Don't touch!" The richness of tactile
experience is forfeited, and touch becomes suspect. It is the terrain of
infants, deviants, and thieves. Vision-so safe and clean-reigns
unchallenged.
As early as Old Testament mythology, touch was cast as a dangerous
and forbidden sense. In the story of the Garden of Eden, Eve reports to the
serpent: "But of the tree which is in the midst of the garden, God hath
said, Ye shall not eat of it, neither shall ye touch it, lest ye die." Eve
ignored God's "look, don't touch" mandate, and as a result, humankind has
suffered to this day.
Despite Biblical sanctions, or perhaps in reaction against them,
touch came into its own during the European Renaissance. Touch was
considered the master sense, able to verify and expand upon characteristics
only superficially perceived through sight. Benedetto Varchi, a sixteenth-
century Florentine historian, claimed that the sculptor's art could best be
appreciated by touch. In the eighteenth century the German philosopher
Johann Gottfried Herder praised the value of touch over sight, which he
dismissed as "a superficial sense which can only render the surfaces and
colors of objects."1 Perhaps the most remarkable manifestation of this
enlightened attitude toward touch is the eighteenth-century museum.
For me, a visit to a museum is a series of encounters with velvet
ropes, wooden barricades, ever-vigilant security guards, automatic alarm
systems, and implacable sheets of glass. Whether African wood carvings,
specimens of shells and minerals, Native American artifacts, or figures
cast in bronze are on display, no enjoyment or understanding through touch
is permitted. In contrast, visitors to the museums of eighteenth-century
Europe were not only allowed, but encouraged to touch the items on exhibit.
In 1694 a visitor to the Ashmolean Museum at Oxford University described
handling a variety of exotic objects, including a lodestone and a cane
"which looks like a solid heavy thing but if you take it in your hands [is]
as light as a feather."2 According to Constance Classen, a researcher on
historical attitudes toward the senses, "Museum visitors, as polite guests,
were expected to show their interest and goodwill by asking questions and
by touching the proffered objects. To be invited to peruse a collection of
exotic artifacts or objets d'art and not touch anything would be like being
invited to someone's home for dinner and not touching the food."3
By the middle of the nineteenth century, however, the museum had
become an altogether different place. No longer were visitors the
personally invited guests of the owner or management. Museums had opened
their doors to the general public, and there was mounting concern for the
safety of the objects they housed. Visitors were required to stand back and
view the exhibits from a distance. To touch a precious object was
considered disrespectful and potentially damaging.
This change in the museum reflects the social transformation that
Classen calls "the rise of visualism." Unauthorized touch caused anxiety to
an emerging middle class that had goods to protect from theft and breakage.
An obsessive fear of dirt sprang from the new understanding that invisible
germs caused sickness. The hands carried treacherous bacteria from one
person to another; to touch an object that others had handled was to invite
some dire disease. Moreover, Victorian prudery and Freud's preoccupation
with all things sexual welded the connection between touch and something
that "nice people" shouldn't do.
By the beginning of the twentieth century, touch was closely
identified with the poor and unwashed, whose overcrowded slum dwellings
swarmed with vermin and vice. A book on etiquette contained a whole chapter
on avoiding the touch of "undesirables." Readers were advised to stay away
from "slums, local trains and streetcars, third-class pubs, cheap seats at
movie theatres, and crowds or celebrations in the streets."4
Technology helped the middle and upper classes escape the
contamination of touch that they had come to dread. Improvements in
lighting made visual observation more effective at home and in the wider
community. The greater availability of glass, and later the development of
clear plastic, shielded merchandise from touch while it remained fully
accessible to the eyes. In the United States, window shopping replaced the
trip to the market, with its open bins of vegetables, hardware, and dry
goods.
The trend that began with our Victorian forebears is amplified in
today's technological frenzy. Any facet of the world can leap into focus on
the computer screen. From the safety of one's own living room, one can now
explore a Maori village, examine the world of a coral reef, or study the
fine points of a Classical Greek façade. The only need for the hand is to
click the buttons on a mouse. In the virtual world it is possible to build
a house without lifting a hammer or to dissect a cadaver without ever
wielding a scalpel. Touch is precluded by the onslaught of visual
information.
For blind computer users, a number of clever programs convert the
text on the screen into human-like speech. Yet no digital genius has found
an effective way to bring a third dimension to the screen. To my hands it
remains lifeless. My fingers find no aesthetic delights, no maps or
diagrams, no images of objects ordinary or extraordinary. Much of the
virtual world is a resolutely visual world.
Beside the poison bottle on the shelf above my desk lies a polished
stone. A friend brought it to me from Bryce Canyon in Utah. Like the poison
bottle, it is flat on one side and rounded on the other. The rounded side,
an irregular oblong, is burnished to gleaming smoothness, a miracle to my
touch.
I turn the stone over, flat side uppermost. Chiseled into the surface
are a palm and five slender fingers. Perhaps the carving was made by a
talented machine with a blade that knew its way from pinkie to thumb. But I
like to imagine that it is the work of an artist who used real tools upon
this real stone and with the power of touch, created a tribute to the hand.
1. Classen, Constance. (2005). "Touch in the Museum," in Constance
Classen, ed, The Book of Touch. New York: Berg, p. 279.
2. Ibid., p. 275.
3. Ibid., p. 275.
4. Stallybrass, Peter and Allon White. (2005) "Bourgeois Perception: The
Gaze and the Contaminating Touch," in Constance Classen, ed, The Book
of Touch, p. 290.
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Leave a Legacy
For more than seventy-five years the National Federation of the Blind
has worked to transform the dreams of hundreds of thousands of blind people
into reality, and with your support we will continue to do so for decades
to come. We sincerely hope you will plan to be a part of our enduring
movement by adding the National Federation of the Blind as a partial
beneficiary in your will. A gift to the National Federation of the Blind in
your will is more than just a charitable, tax-deductible donation. It is a
way to join in the work to help blind people live the lives they want, a
donation that leaves a lasting imprint on the lives of thousands of blind
children and adults.
With your help, the NFB will continue to:
. Give blind children the gift of literacy through Braille;
. Promote the independent travel of the blind by providing free, long
white canes to blind people in need;
. Develop dynamic educational projects and programs that show blind
youth that science and math are within their reach;
. Deliver hundreds of accessible newspapers and magazines to provide
blind people the essential information necessary to be actively
involved in their communities;
. Offer aids and appliances that help seniors losing vision maintain
their independence; and
. Fund scholarship programs so that blind people can achieve their
dreams.
Plan to Leave a Legacy
Creating a will gives you the final say in what happens to your
possessions and is the only way to be sure that your remaining assets are
distributed according to your passions and beliefs. Many people fear
creating a will or believe it's not necessary until they are much older.
Others think that it's expensive and confusing. However, it is one of the
most important things you will do, and with new online legal programs it is
easier and cheaper than ever before. If you do decide to create or revise
your will, consider the National Federation of the Blind as a partial
beneficiary. Visit <www.nfb.org/planned-giving> or call (410) 659-9314,
extension 2371 for more information. Together with love, hope,
determination, and your support, we will continue to transform dreams into
reality.
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A Question for Our Readers
by Gary Wunder
Any casual reader of this magazine knows that the National Federation
of the Blind believes in Braille and believes that some of the most
significant problems we face come from not having an efficient way to read
and write. Denying blind students Braille is indefensible, and the
consequences are at best long-lasting and at worst devastating to those of
us who want a career in which reading and writing normally play a vital
part.
Even for those of us who have been blessed with early, quality
instruction, the shortage of Braille has meant that most of our information
has come from listening to the spoken word. When I went to high school and
college, I was advised that Recordings for the Blind (now renamed Learning
Ally) would be my primary source for books, and material they did not have
could be read to me by someone I would hire at the state agency's expense.
Certainly the computer means that more material is available today, and
most of us are less reliant on human narration, but much of what is
digitized is read with speech.
All of this preamble finally brings me to my question and concern.
How does one learn to spell if he or she is predominantly an audio reader?
Recently I was addressing a group of parents about why they should ensure
that their children learn Braille. Spelling was one of the reasons I gave.
I told the group about not knowing how to spell certain words whose sounds
gave me no clue as to how I could find them in my thirty-six volume Braille
dictionary. I thought the word that means "of undisputed origin," and
"genuine" was spelled "offentic" rather than authentic. I thought that the
word frustrated was pronounced flustrated, a logical consequence of being
flustered. When I got down to business and decided I wanted to write
something other than business owner, I tried to find "ontraprenure," and
never did I guess it was a French word and started with an e and is spelled
entrepreneur. I believed there were different words to describe when one
was interested and when something was inter resting. When people looked at
my check register, they got a laugh out of J. C. Penny, Wallmart, and
Hardy's (JCPenny, Walmart, and Hardee's). Business signs simply aren't
obvious regardless of one's proficiency in Braille.
So if one gets most of his or her material from a Talking Book from
NLS or through a speech synthesizer, how is learning to spell accomplished,
and how does one continue to enlarge his or her vocabulary? Certainly there
are spell checkers and easy-to-use dictionaries, but are they learning
tools or a tool we always need in writing? Does practice with these tools
mean we are better able to take a writing device that is not electronic and
still generate material of which we can be proud and which shows us to be
the competent people we wish to be?
I'd like to hear from readers who have addressed this problem, the
results you have had, and how you suggest we become better spellers who can
write without the aid of a $1,000 piece of technology? I don't need an
article but something I can use as a contribution to one. Just as we have
come to question and refute the notion that blind people should not study
or hope to contribute to the hard sciences, let's address head-on the
commonly held belief that blind people are poor spellers because we have so
little direct physical contact with the written word. With your help, we
will give those who wish to become better spellers some practical and
effective tips.
It seems only right that we follow this article by demonstrating that
blind people can become good spellers, so enjoy the presentation that
follows from former President Maurer, one of the best spellers I know.
Thanks, and remember to give me your suggestions.
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[PHOTO CAPTION: Marc Mauer]
Reflections of a Lifetime Reader and Library Maven
by Marc Maurer
From the Editor: Since the written word is a significant key that can
be used to unlock knowledge and to experience places and situations never
encountered, the National Library Service for the Blind and Physically
Handicapped remains an essential tool for the blind. In recognition of its
ongoing role, we reprint here an address delivered by former President
Maurer in 2008. Here is how it was introduced in the July issue of the
Braille Monitor from that year:
President Maurer delivered the following address at the national
conference of the National Library Service for the Blind and Physically
Handicapped of the Library of Congress in San Antonio, Texas, May 5, 2008:
Insofar as I remember, I have never previously been called a maven.
In my position as president of the National Federation of the Blind (and in
certain other roles), I have been called many things-but "maven" is not one
of them. I thank you for the compliment, and I hope that I can live up to
the billing.
Books have been important to me for as long as I can remember. When I
was a small child, my mother read them aloud to me. When I attended the
school for the blind at the age of six, I discovered that books had been
recorded on great big records. The teacher would play them for us in the
afternoon. One of the first I ever heard was Sharp Ears-The Baby Whale by
John Y. Beatty. As I listened, I was worried about the whale.
In 1960 a library for the blind was established by Dr. Kenneth
Jernigan in the state of Iowa, where I lived. I could get books simply by
asking for them. They came in big packages from the post office. The first
recorded book I ever received was White Falcon by Elliott Arnold: a story
about a pioneer child captured by Indians and raised to become a leader of
the tribe.
I did not have a record player, but our family owned a stereo that we
kept in the living room. If my homework had been completed, and if nobody
else was watching television, I could listen to recorded books on our
stereo. My father had connected a speaker to the stereo so that he could
listen to music while he worked in his carpenter shop in the basement. The
volume control of the stereo adjusted both the volume of the speakers in
the living room and the volume of the speaker in the basement. I discovered
that, when other family members were watching television, I could turn the
volume of the stereo down. I could not hear the recorded book in the living
room. However, if I stretched out on the workbench in the basement with my
ear next to the speaker, I could listen to the book even with conversation
or television watching in the living room. The workbench was covered with
sawdust, but I didn't care. To avoid missing pieces of the recorded book, I
had to get from the living room to the basement in a hurry. In order to
hear what I wanted to know, I would start the stereo and race to the
basement so that I would miss the fewest words. Sometimes the basement was
a little cold, but I got to read anyway. It was worth it.
The post office also brought me big packages of Braille. The books
were wrapped in brown paper with string tied around it. I would untie the
string very carefully and save it. I would also unwrap the paper from the
books and fold it carefully to be reused in returning them to the library.
In a pocket under the front cover of the first volume of each book I would
find a mailing label. This was to be used to return the books to the
library. When I had finished reading them, I rewrapped the bundle, tied the
string, and licked the label so that it would stick to the package. I had
to be careful to cover my address with the new label so that the package
would go where it belonged. When I first began receiving the Braille books,
I did not know that the postman who brought them would also carry packages
away. I got permission from my mother to carry the packages to the post
office to be shipped back to the library. I had learned that they needed no
postage-that they would go as Free Matter to the library. I came to know
the people who worked at the post office, and I was delighted when I
discovered that they would indeed take charge of my Braille.
The Braille was more versatile than the recorded books. I could read
it wherever I went. I could keep a Braille volume under my bed and sneak it
out at night after I was supposed to be asleep. This system also worked at
the school for the blind. Special reading rooms (little cubicles containing
a chair, a desk, and a Talking Book machine) had been built for listening
to talking books. However, I could read the Braille anywhere. One time I
did sneak off at night to read a Talking Book. I thought it would be better
not to turn on the light in the reading room. The houseparent did discover
me there after a while, but he thought I had fallen asleep while I was
reading and missed the bedtime bell. It did not seem prudent to me to
correct his error in thought. However, if I was in bed, he didn't check to
see if a book was under the covers.
When I reached high school, the library offered to lend me a Talking
Book machine. I could listen to books in my own room at any time. This was
liberating. Some of the books I wanted to read were for recreation, and
some of them were assigned literature. At one point I invited some of my
classmates to listen along with me to William Golding's Lord of the Flies.
My Talking Book machine went with me to college, and I have had one or
another model of it wherever I have been since I first obtained one in high
school.
When I was fourteen years old, I lived in Boone, Iowa, a small town
about forty miles north of Des Moines, where the library for the blind was
located. I had been borrowing books from the library for about five years.
A listing of books would arrive in the mail. Because it was a printed
document, my father would read the list to me. I would tell him what books
I wanted to read. Eventually he got sick and tired of helping me make my
selections because he thought some of the books I picked were too racy for
me to read. Mostly I don't think he edited my lists of requests, but I
think he skipped some of the books listed in the catalog.
He would mail my requests to the library, and the packages of books
would arrive from the post office. I usually got two (and on rare occasions
three) books at a time. When I mailed them back, more would come. I loved
getting the big fragrant volumes to read whenever and wherever I liked.
I told my mother one summer's day when I was fourteen that I would
very much like to visit the library. To my amazement she said that I could
go. My younger brothers, Max and Matt, who were eleven and nine, planned to
go with me. I was responsible for watching over them and seeing that they
and I did not get into trouble. I saved my allowance until I had enough
money for a bus ticket. The Greyhound bus stopped at a little bookstore in
our town. We went to the station and bought bus tickets to travel to Des
Moines. We knew that we would be visiting an important government facility,
so we dressed in our Sunday clothes.
The bus depot in Des Moines was only a couple of blocks from the
library for the blind in those days. We arrived there in a little more than
an hour, and we found our way to the building housing the books. The
receptionist directed us to the fourth floor, where we met library
personnel. They seemed bemused that a blind kid would visit the library
without being accompanied by an adult. They showed me the stacks, and I
began to look joyously through the rows upon rows of Braille books. After a
time one of the staff members at the library brought me a chair. I selected
a volume and sat down to read it. My brothers, who were through enjoying
the library in a very short time and who were tired of watching me read
books, said that they would go outside to look around. I said this would be
all right but that the bus for our return trip was leaving shortly after
four o'clock. I urged them to be back in time for us to catch it, and they
said that they would be there. They left me, and I spent the remainder of
the day reading Braille.
When my brothers returned shortly before four o'clock, they told me
that they had explored the state capitol building and climbed all of the
stairs to the top of the dome. We had spent all of our money to buy the bus
tickets to come to Des Moines. We were penniless, and we had not had the
forethought to bring any lunch. However, I was permitted to borrow two
books from the library. On the bus ride home, we were hungry but satisfied
with our adventure, and I had two new books to read.
At the school for the blind those of us in the first grade who had
very little remaining vision were taught Braille. We started by studying
flash cards, but fairly soon we graduated to the "Dick and Jane" book.
Sixteen of us were in the class arranged in two rows of eight. My desk was
the sixth one from the front in the first row. We were told to open our
books to page one. The teacher asked the first student in the first row to
read the Braille page. When the student had trouble reading the Braille,
the teacher corrected the errors made by the student. Then the teacher
called upon the second student in the row and again corrected the errors
that student made. Before the teacher came to me, we had been through this
exercise five times. When my turn came, the teacher asked me to read page
one. I put my fingers on the page and spoke the words that were there. I
was called to the front of the room, praised, and given a gold star to
paste onto page one of my book.
We lived more than a hundred miles from the school. On weekends my
father came to pick me up for the drive to our home. When he appeared in
our first-grade class on Friday afternoon, my teacher advised me to take my
book home with me to show to my mother. My mother had learned Braille
because she thought she might need to know it to communicate with me or to
help me with my homework. I carried my book with me on our trip home; I
explained what had happened in class; and I showed my mother my gold star.
However, my mother is a suspicious woman. She asked if she could borrow my
book, and I gave it to her. Later during the weekend she brought me a piece
of Braille paper with words on it, and she asked me to read it. When I told
her that I could not, she explained to me that it was an exact copy of page
one of my book.
When I had completed the first grade, during the summer months, my
mother took me in hand. She decided that I was to learn Braille. For an
hour each day she taught me to read. I objected. My brothers didn't have
homework during the summer; I was the only one. But my mother insisted, and
I had no alternative. By the end of that summer I had learned to read. I
returned to the school for the blind in the fall, and I discovered the
school library. By the time I had finished the fifth grade, I had read
every book in the school library that the librarian would let me have. Some
of the books in the library were too advanced for me, she said. I have
wondered ever since what they were.
I have read Braille to myself for study and pleasure; I have read
Braille to my children; I have read Braille to judges in courts of appeals;
and I have read Braille to tens of thousands of blind people. My mother
taught me to read it, but the librarians gave me the chance to become
efficient with it and to learn the thoughts of great minds by reading it.
Perhaps it is possible to do the work that I have undertaken without
Braille, but I don't know how it could be done. I have sometimes heard
people argue that libraries are a luxury, but I cannot imagine how anybody
with perspective could believe this.
During my time at the university, I sat with Thucydides'
Peloponnesian War under my hands, and I heard in my mind the stentorian
tones of Pericles's Funeral Oration. Later I studied the clauses of the
United States Constitution in the same way, and I wondered what they had
meant to Abraham Lincoln. History is the record of what people have done.
Literature is the record of what people have thought. Poetry is the record
of the song of the spirit. In 1776 Adam Smith wrote The Wealth of Nations,
declaring that this wealth is based upon labor and the efficient methods of
using it. At about the same time Benjamin Franklin said that, if you want
to be remembered, you should do something of sufficient importance that
somebody else will want to write about it or write something worth reading.
Much of the wealth of nations is contained between the covers of books. The
librarians are charged with maintaining this wealth.
Within the last two years a substantial argument has raged regarding
the importance of the Books for the Blind program, now known as the
National Library Service for the Blind and Physically Handicapped. Should
the technology employed in this service be upgraded to provide access to
recorded material in digital form? Is the library of sufficient value to
justify expenditures for continuing present services and for upgrading
those that have not kept pace with the developing needs of the blind
community and with modern technology? The answers to such questions depend
on the estimated value of the population to be served. If the intended
population will not read the books, or if (even if they read the books) the
people who get them will accomplish nothing or almost nothing with the
information, little is lost if the library fails to provide the service
that might be expected from it. On the other hand, if those who read the
books gain potential thereby and undertake development of intellectual
property and socially useful programs, depriving this population of reading
material is not only a dramatic mistake but an act equivalent to gross and
intentional negligence. It is equivalent to discarding a valuable
commodity, and it diminishes the society in which we live. This is no small
matter; it affects the lives, the futures, and the destinies of an entire
class of human beings.
Will the lives of this group of human beings be stultified,
diminished, belittled, or circumscribed? Or, on the other hand, will they
be expanded, encouraged, and enlivened? One of the most common experiences
encountered by any blind person is to be told to wait. The lives of blind
people are important, yes, but not as important as something else. Wait. We
will get to you. We will get to you as soon as the current emergency has
come to an end. We will get to you as soon as the other priorities have
been met. We will get to you when the important things have been managed.
Wait. Is it any wonder that sometimes blind people feel that something
needs to be done now? Is it any wonder that blind people have trouble
understanding why everything else seems to be important, but our lives can
be conveniently moved to the back burner? Is it any wonder that after a
time restiveness becomes a primary characteristic of this so frequently
underserved population? Is it any wonder that, when the National Library
Service determines that a modest sum is needed to give us literacy, we feel
betrayed by public officials who tell us that, one more time, our right to
read must be postponed?
The National Library Service for the Blind and Physically Handicapped
serves in excess of 700,000 blind people in the United States. Estimates
are that 1.3 million blind people live in the United States. Well over 50
percent of the target population uses the services of this program. This
rate of use of the Library for the Blind is substantially higher than the
rate of use of libraries for the sighted. These numbers may reflect the
reality that the only substantial source of readily available reading
matter for the blind is the National Library Service.
Experience indicates that blind people read in the neighborhood of
thirty books per year on average. This is many, many times the number of
books read by the average sighted person. Blindness is a tremendous social
disadvantage and a moderate physical one. However, literacy is a way to
compensate for the disadvantage. In the 1950s Dr. Jacobus tenBroek, then
president of the National Federation of the Blind, estimated that between 1
and 3 percent of blind people were employed. At the time of the founding of
the National Federation of the Blind in 1940, the employment rate for the
blind was under 1 percent. Today it is estimated that as many as 30 percent
of blind people are employed. This is at least ten times as many as were
estimated to have employment in the 1950s. The difference may be measured
in rehabilitation programs for the blind and in library service, with the
greatest emphasis on library service.
The National Library Service for the Blind and Physically Handicapped
was established more than seventy-five years ago. The standard of
excellence that it has enforced in the production of Braille materials and
in the creation of recorded documents is the envy of programs serving the
blind throughout the world. This standard is so thoroughly met by the
National Library Service that it has become an article of faith. If
material is produced by the Library, it is right. If it is produced by the
National Library Service, it is good. A book from the Library will be
without error. Can this standard be universally met? Of course exceptions
occur, but this high standard is so frequently a part of the Library
program that the occasional error is an aberration.
The National Library Service for the Blind and Physically Handicapped
is committed to producing materials in Braille that are second to none in
quality. This program also produces recorded matter of exceptional quality.
Historically the Library has been committed to ensuring that the best
available long-term technology is incorporated in the production of
materials. Today the transformation to the Digital Talking Book is a high
priority. The National Library Service believes that it has a fundamental
contribution to make to the growth of opportunity for the blind of the
nation, and its commitment to quality has never been compromised. The
network of libraries throughout the nation that provide most of the
distribution of materials to patrons has demonstrated the same commitment
to quality and excellence. The people who have produced the materials,
distributed the books, repaired the machines, answered the questions, and
offered an encouraging word have enhanced literacy and changed lives.
Literacy has meant that blind people have capacity, but it has even
greater significance. The literacy of blind people has provided a mechanism
for the blind to gain inspiration and hope. We read of what others have
done, and we imagine how we can do likewise. A book in the hand today
frequently means an act of courage in the future. This is what library
service has meant to us-more reading, more recreation, more participation
in community activities, more education, more employment, more
contemplation of a brighter tomorrow, more building, more joy! All of this
comes from the Library, and we thank you for the enormous, the incalculable
contributions you have made.
----------
Recipes
This month's recipes come from the National Federation of the Blind
of Arizona.
Braised Cabbage with Apples and Bacon
by Bob Kresmer
Bob Kresmer has been president of our Arizona Affiliate for the past
ten years. He is a retired rehabilitation teacher.
Ingredients:
1 medium green cabbage, cored, quartered, and cut into 1/8-inch slices
4 slices bacon, diced
1 red onion cut into 1/8-inch-thick slices
1 teaspoon salt
2 Cortland or other tart apples, peeled, cored, and cut into 1/8-inch
slices
2 teaspoons cider vinegar
3 tablespoons light brown sugar
2 tablespoons apple cider
Method: Cook bacon until crisp. Add onion and cook until soft. Add
cabbage, salt, and cider; cover and cook about two minutes. Stir in apple,
sugar and vinegar; cook until cabbage is soft but apples retain shape,
about ten minutes. Serves four.
----------
Double Date Loaf
by Lynn Kresmer
Lynn Kresmer is a member of our Tucson chapter, and is working as a
rehabilitation teacher at the Southwestern Veterans Blind Rehabilitation
Center in Tucson.
Ingredients:
1 cup Medjool dates, chopped
1 cup boiling water
2 teaspoons baking soda
1 cup Miracle Whip salad dressing
1 cup sugar
1 egg, beaten well
1 teaspoon salt
2 cups flour
1 cup pecan pieces (optional)
1 teaspoon vanilla
Method: Cut up dates and pour water mixed with baking soda over the
dates. Refrigerate while mixing the rest. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Mix
Miracle Whip, sugar, egg, and scant teaspoon of salt. Add dates and water,
mix. Mix in flour, pecans, and vanilla. Grease a 9-by-13-inch pan. Spread
batter evenly into baking pan, bake for about an hour. Top of loaf will
break open as it bakes, and it can be tested with a toothpick.
----------
Dirt Dessert
by Debi Chatfield
Debi Chatfield is a long time member of our East Valley chapter, a
member of the National Association of Blind Veterans, and is the editor of
the monthly newsletter, Arizona News and Views.
Ingredients:
1 stick butter, softened
1 8-ounce package cream cheese, softened
1 cup confectioner's sugar (powdered sugar)
1 teaspoon vanilla
3 1/2 cups milk
2 small packages instant vanilla, white, or milk chocolate pudding
1 12-ounce Cool Whip
1 package of original Oreos
Method: Crush Oreos by placing them in a plastic Ziploc bag, about
twenty at a time, and roll a can over the bag. Set aside crushed cookies in
a separate bowl. Mix softened butter and cream cheese with a wire whisk.
Add confectioner's sugar and vanilla and set mixture aside. In larger,
separate bowl, mix milk and pudding. Stir until thickened. Fold in Cool
Whip, then fold in butter mixture. In glass dessert dish or gardening pot
(see below) layer by starting with mixture, then add the cookies and
continuing until everything is gone, ending with crushed cookies on top.
Refrigerate overnight.
To make this extra special, place dessert in an actual gardening pot.
You can purchase either a plastic or pretty ceramic pot just to use for
this recipe. Gummy worms can be added before the last layer of cookie
crumbs, and extend out onto the top layer, but not necessary! You can also
put an artificial flower in the middle of the pot for added effect. It
really looks like dirt, especially when it is in a gardening container. It
is a big hit when brought to the picnics and potlucks. But, most
importantly, it is really yummy. Enjoy!
----------
Frank's Redhot Buffalo Chicken Dip
by Nikki Jeffords
Nikki is a member of the West Valley chapter of the NFB of Arizona.
This is an easy and delicious recipe that she has made for family
functions, potlucks, and work parties. Every time she takes it somewhere
new, it is the most popular dish, with many requests to bring it again.
Ingredients:
2 cups shredded cooked chicken
1 8-ounce package cream cheese, softened
1/2 cup FRANK'S RedHot® Original Cayenne Pepper Sauce or FRANK'S RedHot®
Buffalo Wings Sauce
1/2 cup blue cheese or ranch dressing
1/2 cup crumbled blue cheese or your favorite shredded cheese
Method: Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Combine all ingredients and
spoon into shallow one-quart baking dish. Bake twenty minutes, or until
mixture is heated through; stir. Garnish with chopped green onions if
desired. Serve with tortilla chips, crackers, and/or vegetables.
----------
[PHOTO CAPTION: Janna Peyton]
Nine Can Taco Soup
by Janna Peyton
Janna Peyton is a longtime member of our Tucson chapter. She has
taken responsibilities for senior recreation, crafts, and organized tours
and outings.
Ingredients:
1 can drained black beans
1 can drained pinto beans (Mexican style)
1 can Ro-Tel tomatoes
1 can drained Mexican style corn
1 can cream of chicken soup, as is
1 can red or green enchilada sauce
1 can chicken broth
2 cans of prepared chicken (tuna-sized cans)
One package of taco seasoning
Method: Combine all in crock pot and cook on low for two hours, until
it is hot enough for your taste. Garnish with tortilla chips, black olives,
green onions, Mexican cheese, or whatever you fancy.
----------
Monitor Miniatures
News from the Federation Family
Blind Parents Needed:
Are you a blind parent, grandparent, foster parent, or caregiver for
children? Would you be interested in passing along your knowledge and
giving your support to a parent, grandparent, or other caregiver who also
happens to be blind? If so, the National Federation of the Blind needs you!
If you are willing to serve as a mentor to an expecting parent, a current
parent who is seeking support, a grandparent, or someone else who plans to
provide extended care for children, please send an email to Melissa
Riccobono at <parenting at nfb.org>.
As you know, the National Federation of the Blind is the leading
advocate for the rights of blind parents and the largest resource network
for blind people who are considering being parents. We are continuing to
build our resources in this area, and the next step is to formalize a
program of mentoring. Mentors will follow-up with individuals they are
assigned to mentor and will be asked for ideas about other resources needed
to strengthen the network of education, support, and advocacy the National
Federation of the Blind provides to blind parents, grandparents, and other
caregivers.
If you are an individual who would be interested in being matched
with a mentor, please send an email to <parenting at nfb.org>. This program is
in its beginning stages, but we will do all we can to match you with a
mentor as soon as possible.
Finally, please watch for future announcements regarding our Blind
Parents Initiative. The National Federation of the Blind wants to gather
data and develop truly useful resources for parents who happen to be blind,
but in order to do this we will need your help and feedback. We will have
at least one survey we will need people to complete, and there may also be
opportunities to participate in focus groups, share techniques in short
videos, write reviews for particularly helpful or accessible children's
products and toys, and much more. We look forward to hearing from you and
having you help us build a variety of tools to empower blind parents as
they live the lives they want with their children.
Volunteers Needed for Braille Book Fair:
The Braille Book Fair (BBF) has become one of the highlights of the
convention for many teachers, parents, blind kids, blind parents, and adult
beginning-Braille readers. But the event could not take place without the
help of many dedicated, talented volunteers. And that's where you come in.
As a past worker or simply an interested supporter of the Braille Book
Fair, I hope you can either volunteer or give me the contact information
for someone that you recommend.
You do not need to work the entire afternoon or evening, but I do ask
that you try to work an entire shift. We especially need people who will be
helping customers to come before we open the doors at 5:00 p.m. and to
commit to staying until at least 6:30 p.m. Book lovers are great for this
shift since you will assist visitors in book decisions/selections.
Shift times are as follows: set-up is 10:00 a.m. to 12:00 p.m., 12:00
to 2:00 p.m., and 2:00 to 4:00 p.m.; the event is 4:00 to 7:00 p.m.; clean-
up is 6:30 to 8:00 p.m. The room we will use has not yet been assigned, so
please see the NFB convention agenda.
If you can help, please contact Sandra Oliver, NOPBC Board Member, at
(713) 825-4573 or by email at <Sandra.Oliver at ey.com>. If you contact me
using email, please provide the following information: Yes, I can work the
following shift(s) ...; my cell phone number that I will have at convention
is . . .; I live in (state); or maybe, I'll check my schedule, but if
possible my preference is to work these hours . . .; Braille skills
(including if you read by touch or by sight as a sighted person). Note: if
you are a parent of a blind child under the age of eighteen (or still in
high school or below), we know that you will want to attend the NOPBC
annual meeting which takes place just before the BBF, but we would welcome
you to work either during the event or on the clean-up shift after the
event.
In Brief
Notices and information in this section may be of interest to Monitor
readers. We are not responsible for the accuracy of the information; we
have edited only for space and clarity.
Disney Offers Special Ticket Pricing to the World Blind Union/ICEVI General
Assembly:
Disney World is offering attendees of the World Blind Union/ICEVI
General Assembly special ticket pricing, including pre- or post-conference
stays. These special offers include after 3 p.m. tickets, which allow you
to visit a single park after 3 p.m., or you can add the Park Hopper Option
so you can visit multiple parks in one evening; specially priced multi-day
tickets that offer pre-arrival savings of 10 percent and are not available
at Walt Disney World ticket windows. Buy a two-day or longer full-day
ticket, and receive one free admission to an additional Disney experience
including a visit to either of Disney's water parks, Blizzard Beach or
Typhoon Lagoon, or a round of miniature golf at Disney's Winter Summerland
miniature golf, Disney's Fantasia Gardens miniature golf, Disney's Oak
Trail golf course (Disney's nine-hole walking course), or ESPN Wide World
of Sports Complex.
The deadline to purchase tickets through this special offer is August
21, 2016. To purchase tickets, either visit
<https://www.mydisneymeetings.com/nfbice16>, or call (407) 566-5600.
Perkins Brailler Repair:
Bring your Perkins Brailler back to life. The Selective Doctor Inc.
specializes in the repair of Perkins Braillers and also sells reconditioned
Perkins Braillers. The totally reconditioned Braillers sell for $450 for a
manual Brailler and $550 for an electric Brailler. All Braillers are
guaranteed. Repairs for the Perkins Braillers are $65 for labor on a manual
Brailler, plus the cost of parts. You can send your Brailler to: The
Selective Doctor Inc., P.O. Box 571, Manchester, MD 21102 using the US
Postal Service. Free Matter for the Blind is accepted. It is recommended
that you insure it, but it is not necessary. After the repair is completed
we will send it back to you with the invoice and will insure it for $400.
The premium presently is $5.50, and this will be added to your invoice. For
more information, please call (410) 668-1143 or email
<braillerrepair at yahoo.com>. You can also check out our website at
<http://www.selectivedoctor.com./>.
----------
NFB Pledge
I pledge to participate actively in the efforts of the National
Federation of the Blind to achieve equality, opportunity, and security for
the blind; to support the policies and programs of the Federation; and to
abide by its constitution.
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