[NFB-Seniors-Discussion] NFB of Nebraska Senior Division May Meeting - A Special Guest, Buddy Collier; read message to learn more!

Sun May 1 20:12:25 UTC 2022

Hi You All

RE: Our May meeting is Monday the 9th

TOPIC: A special guest - author of a great article appearing in our
Federation's flagship magazine, "The Braille Monitor", April, 2022 issue: "A
Letter to Myself or an Awkward Stage," by Buddy Collier A copy of the
article is pasted in below the agenda; take a read and think of questions or
comments you may have for Buddy, or us!

Contents of this message:

*1: When and how to get on our monthly call

*2: Agenda 

*3 The NFB Pledge

*4: Article from "the Braille Monitor"

*1: When and how to get on the call

Date: Monday May 9th

Time: 7:00 CT

Join Zoom Meeting:

https://zoom.us/j/97431318555?pwd=NmVpT2VhTEl4ZlczVElyZDYycDNGQT09

One tap mobile:

+13462487799,,97431318555#,,,,*637552# 

+14086380968,,97431318555#,,,,*637552# 

Dial by your location:

+1 346 248 7799 

+1 408 638 0968

Meeting ID: 974 3131 8555

Passcode: 637552

*2: Agenda

-First- Come to order, do introductions, and we have our NFB Pledge

-Second- Our special guest will talk with us about his article, and the
experiences that it represents; opening it up for questions, so we all get
the max out of our shared experience.

--OLD BUSINESS 

-Update from our membership Committee- Nancy and Jerry 

-Update on the two fund raising opportunities that have come up and that we
are working on

-Anything else membership may bring

--NEW BUSINESS

-Question- who has not received their NFB coin

-Update concerning the Nebraska affiliate happenings; we are a part of this!

-Whatever else we get from the membership

-Brags and Drags

*3: 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.

*4: The Buddy Collier article:

>From "The Braille Monitor" April 2022

A Letter to Myself or an Awkward Stage

by Buddy Collier

Buddy Collier 

>From the Editor: Buddy is a member who lives in Nevada. He is an active
member of our affiliate, and in this article he expresses something we talk
little about in the NFB, that being the transition from sight to blindness.
Some of us have not known the experience. Others of us have been blind long
enough that we see it as a stage we passed through and are now about living
our lives as blind people. While reality dictates that we accept our new
situation and look for the advantages to be found in it, we can't simply
offer the advice to work through the transition by keeping a stiff upper lip
and a positive attitude. For most of us, feelings are not so easily
manipulated, and feelings unacknowledged can lead to long-term problems and
a failure to transition to something better-the realization that we are
still human beings meant to thrive and not broken sighted persons. Here is
what Buddy, a person not yet blind but well on the way, has to say:

This is a letter to myself, that self that was trying to make sense of it
all six years ago when the retina detached in my right eye after a cataract
removal surgery. In this letter I speak to myself, the self that was going
through so much trauma and pain six years ago. It is also a kind of chat
with anyone who may be experiencing some degree of vision loss but who is
not legally blind.

Since all of that terrible stuff happened, I have seen three of my friends
suffer similar experiences. We are all sixty years of age or older.

If I had to give it a title, I would entitle this, "My Awkward Stage."

After eight surgeries and weeks of holding my head down-hoping that the air
bubble, then the gas bubble, and then silicon oil all placed in the eye to
repair the retina-after all that, I can see, and there are things that I
can't see. The vision in the right eye is gone. When it went, it was almost
a relief. The scleral buckle attached to the eye caused me to see double,
and that was worse than seeing with only one eye. So now, seeing with one
eye through trifocals, living with glaucoma, and a forming cataract means I
am frequently mindful of my vision situation. In addition, there are things
I can see that confuse me. I think my brain is working overtime to translate
the signals it receives by making assumptions about the world that aren't
so. I am someone who lives between the sighted world and the blind world. My
usable vision sets me outside the world of those who rely solely on other
senses to navigate their world. My impairment makes me cautious and
sometimes fearful. I love the vision that I have; I just don't trust it
completely. My vision is frequently disorienting and unreliable.

The gradual and unpredictable loss of vision lasting months or years is a
life-changing process. I doubt that anyone who must live through the shock,
depression, and challenges brought to them because of vision loss found it
an easy thing to deal with. We might as well face it and call it what it is:
it is a loss. The uncertainty which accompanies it, like grief accompanies
sorrow, only adds to the miasma. Almost daily the person experiencing this
loss wonders how far it is going to go. Has it stopped yet? Or, am I going
to step entirely into the darkness? Perhaps this experience should be
categorized as an auxiliary experience in addition to a decline in vision.
One thing is for sure, though: When you are in the middle of it, you can't
tell where one ends and the other begins.

In the beginning stages you probably appear normal to your sighted friends.
When they catch evidence of your impairment in an odd moment, they may
declare their surprise that it is real. Legally, you may very well be
sighted. You learn that the experts can't agree 100 percent on a definition
of blindness. Kenneth Jernigan aptly explored the question of where the term
'blindness' might be applied in his article, "Who Are We? A Definition of
Blindness." You learn there is more to vision than the physical eye and that
blindness has more to do with function than with the state of the eye. You
know something in you is amiss. Things are not right, and you naturally feel
threatened. The eye specialists I consulted didn't offer any direction or
help when it comes to dealing with vision loss or the emotional trauma
accompanying it. Their world seemed to be limited to numbers and observable
conditions which they dutifully record in files. My retina specialist stated
that the last surgery he conducted on my right eye had been a success. He
said this in spite of the obvious fact that my eye was now completely blind.
He casually added that the left eye would probably follow the same path as
the right. He said that in ten or fifteen years I'll have serious challenges
with vision. His concern was so narrowly focused that he had excluded his
patient.

As an individual experiencing vision loss, you are acutely aware that
fundamental changes are taking place in your body and in your life. The
script of your life is being revised without your consent. You may, as I
did, feel that you are trying to live life from inside a box. In the early
days I had a feeling that I was physically disconnected from my environment.
It was a kind of numbness. At the beginning of this journey most people with
whom you will interact will be incapable of perceiving these changes
happening inside you. No one but you know how you have cobbled together a
developing set of skills to navigate everyday life. Now you check the step
with your toe before climbing a staircase or when you encounter a curb. Then
there is how, at the grocery store checkout, you dip your card holding hand
below the payment device and slowly move up to find the slot where you'll
insert the card. There's that trick you figured out when people want to hand
you a cup or return your debit card. You learned that it is easier just to
extend your hand out and wait for them to push it into your fingers than to
feel about in front of them, making a show of it all. You choose a side to
walk on when going out with friends. Every day you wonder, "How far will
this go?" You learn that your current vision is not to be completely
trusted. It is like an old friend who has turned against you. Once you felt
you could trust it completely. Now it randomly lies, abandoning you to
figure out your next move without reliable guidance.

So, bit by bit, you start to figure out that your fingers can help fill in
some of the gaps. Are you about to graze the corner of the kitchen counter?
Your fingers can tell you. How far away is that overhanging branch or
cabinet door? Suddenly there are bumps and little ledges on common household
items that are speaking to you in a new language. Is that my toothbrush?
Feel the curve of the handle or put a rubber band around it so your fingers
will know. Do you over or under reach the glass when you are pouring a
liquid, making a mess? Let your fingers be the judge of distance there too.
Is there a dried bit of food on the top of the kitchen counter that your
eyes can't see? Well, your fingers can find it. I have found my fingers are
much more strict about cleaning counter tops than my eyes had ever been. The
same goes for washing dishes.

You would think this would be enough, but the experience is bigger than
that. How about seeing things that aren't there? In my journey I have seen
many illusions. My personal favorite was the pictures of galleons decorating
a restaurant wall. They looked as if they were leaving the painting and
sticking out into the air.

A word about complaining: You are going to be inclined to do a lot of
complaining that first year. Because we lack an adequate vocabulary to
explain our new experiences, we tend to struggle with words that can help
others understand our new world. Remember that there is a limit to how much
other people can focus on you. We don't want to fatigue the patience of our
friends. This may invite you to become bitter and think no one cares. Try to
remember that to them understanding your situation may be like explaining
something that is happening on another planet. They know you are disturbed,
but they can't see what you are seeing. And, as you are learning, what
people can't see is frequently dismissed.

You may also seek some spiritual context in which to place all of this. At
some point you have to get on with it and do the best you can with what
you've got. I think it was at the place where I finally had cried enough and
complained enough that I began my journey to acceptance. That took me about
three years. Patience!

So, since I am a person who usually overreacts to situations, I chose to
inform myself as fully as possible about blindness issues and skills. I
really jumped in the deep end of the pool. This meant I decided to learn
Braille, some white cane techniques, some helpful technology, and decided to
talk to and listen to successful blind people in my town. If indeed the dark
is coming, do I really want to wait until that moment to decide to inform
myself? Being proactive is better than waiting until some overworked social
worker or family member takes on your case and decides for you.

Wait a minute! What if I never need any of this? Maybe it's just easier to
have several magnifiers around the house and not go out as much as I did.
Well, maybe. And that is an option. But I believe it is the lessor of two
options, one of them clearly being an inferior choice. Personally, I have
always enjoyed learning new things. Braille has become a hobby of mine. I
don't use it to function, but I enjoy reading and writing Braille. Shocked?
Why? Some people collect spoons or thimbles, and nobody thinks that's odd.
It just so happens that my hobby may come in handy on a day when I really
need it.

What about having an identification cane when you need it? Crowded spaces
can be a problem for me. I've already learned that falling down is no fun,
and some people get mad when I bump into them. When I have that short little
cane in my hand, people give me a couple inches of extra space, and I don't
feel like I'm about to slam into a stranger at any moment.

 So, I walk in the world of the sighted, and I borrow things from the world
of the blind. The line between the two is blurred. You either see or you
don't, right? Sorry, it is a lot more nuanced than that. Go read Kenneth
Jernigan's article I mentioned above.

Even I, with an impairment, still harbor feelings that I haven't fully come
to terms with. But I hope to someday. I have suffered a loss of some of my
visual acuity. Whether or not I experience further decline in my vision, my
world has become richer for the things I have learned and the people I have
befriended who teach me about living with various degrees of vision. You
lose something and you gain something if you reach out and try. Now, doesn't
that sound better than sitting at home without an idea of what to do?

Respectfully yours,

Robert Leslie Newman

NFBN Senior Division, President

Respectfully yours,

Robert Leslie Newman

NFBN Senior Division, President

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