[nabs-l] Training: As needed, or all at once?

T. Joseph Carter carter.tjoseph at gmail.com
Tue May 12 21:49:15 UTC 2009


Jim,

In a nutshell, get the training now while you can afford to take the 
time to do it all at once.  There's no substitute.

The decision to do this was hard in my case for a variety of reasons.  
First, I have a lot of vision under most indoor lighting conditions.  
Rarely do I want to see more light.  Outside, my vision is greatly 
diminished.  Most albinos either don't admit or don't even realize 
that this is true.  I'm more sensitive than most.  But I got along 
okay, I told myself.  And there really was no need to worry that my 
vision would ever get worse--it's variable, but quite stable.

I don't read Braille, but I don't need to.  I read large print just 
fine.  I read serif fonts somewhat slowly (65 words per minute), but 
the text can be changed to sans serif more easily than it can be 
reproduced in Braille and then I can read at a more normal reading 
rate.  I never learned Braille.

I could cook well enough, mostly making a meal using convenience type 
dishes that need only a few staples in the kitchen.  Far more often, 
I used things like prepackaged meals.  And I said this was what I do 
because I live alone.

I knew that if I were going to get training, I needed to go to an NFB 
training center.  But I was afraid of working under a sleepshade, and 
I was actually willing to admit it.  Eventually, I realized all of 
the other things I was afraid of, and that I was more afraid of them 
than I was putting on a sleepshade:

  - I was afraid to cross larger city streets in daylight because I 
    could not see the walk light.  I knew the rules, but I just didn't 
    feel safe.  If I was facing sunlight when I did so, my heart was 
    racing as I crossed because I couldn't even see the outlines of 
    cars.

  - I spoke of cooking convenience foods.  They never included things 
    like Hamburger Helper.  The reason?  Meats must be cooked properly 
    to be safe, and I couldn't tell it was cooked.  Scared me to 
    death to even think about it, so I just didn't.  I was proud of 
    the fact that this meant I was eating healthier.  And then I would 
    go get myself a Big Mac, right?  Yeah.

  - The oven terrified me.

  - I limited my career options to those that didn't involve large 
    amounts of sustained reading because of the headaches.  I was 
    afraid I couldn't keep up and would be a failure.

  - I was deathly afraid to cross any street where cars didn't have to 
    stop for me.

  - I was afraid to work with any electric tool save maybe a drill or 
    a screwdriver.  I was sure I'd take my hand off with a Dremel or 
    something.

I did all of those things at the Colorado Center.  But I had to 
decide to go and do them, despite "not needing" those skills, because 
you see, I really did need them.  Here's the result:

  - I no longer carry a folding cane.  I use a telescopic now and 
    then, but usually I carry a rigid cane and I don't put it away 
    when I walk into a building anymore.

  - I go where I want, period.  I've crossed ten lanes of traffic 
    without a light before, blindfolded.  Granted, that one got a 
    "Good job--don't do it again," from Brent Batron and Eric Woods, 
    but I could do it again if I needed to, and they both know it.

  - I make good stuff in the oven.  And my mother's fried tacos, which 
    I've improved upon.  Hamburger is the least of my worries in the 
    kitchen.  I still make mostly convenience dishes and I do eat a 
    lot of frozen dinners and fast food--but I live alone, and the 
    grocery store is almost a 2.5 mile walk from here.

  - Tools?  I've got plans to build a house!  The only tool a person 
    might use in the process I have any misgivings about is the 
    circular saw, and only because I can do the job more quickly and 
    with higher precision using other tools.

  - I left Colorado reading Braille at 165 words per minute on a cold 
    read.  That's a rather seriously atypical result, but I wanted to 
    do it and I worked hard.  In the two years since, I've lost most 
    of my speed through lack of practice--but I know I can get it back 
    any time I want it.

  - I didn't learn to use a screen reader effectively.  I learned to 
    use about five or six screen readers by developing a schema in my 
    head to remember their different command structures.  I'm not a 
    JAWS expert.  Nor a Window Eyes expert.  I'm not even a VoiceOver 
    expert.  But I can use them all.  I still use UA Magnifier on the 
    Mac, and I can use ZoomText or MAGic on Windows.  Nobody had to 
    teach me how to use the enlarging software though, since I could 
    easily explore that on my own using residual vision.

  - I am more confident, overall, in myself and my abilities.  That 
    confidence is justified, and I can see that for myself.  Lots of 
    people with disabilities try to pass for not disabled.  I never 
    really did that--I tried to pass as confident and able to do all 
    of those things I could not do.  I'm no longer passing, I know I 
    can do them because I do them regularly.

This is what it means to be blind when you have the skills and the 
confidence you get from a good training center.  I don't know what 
training centers you'd consider, but I can tell you that our NFB 
centers are the standard by which others are judged for good reason.

Joseph


On Mon, May 11, 2009 at 01:38:34PM -0700, Jim Reed wrote:
>Hello all, 
>I am just thinking about blind training, and I am just not sure to what extent it is practical for me right now. A friend has told me that blind training has made her function better as a visually impaired person, but I am just not sure to what extent it is justifiable to ask VR to send me to a training center (to learn braile for example), when I currently don't need braile, and there is no guarantee that I ever will need braile. Also, it seems like a lot of time and effort on my part to learn what are currently non-essential skills. On the other hand, I am going to begin working with my VR offices OM specialist because I realize that the cane is essential for me to travel at night.  
>
>Thoughts?
>Jim
>
>Homer Simpson's brain: "Use reverse psychology." 
> Homer: "Oh, that sounds too complicated." 
> Homer's brain: "Okay, don't use reverse psychology."
> Homer: "Okay, I will!"




More information about the NABS-L mailing list