[Nfbf-l] What's wrong with this story - Blind Mom, sighted Child

[Bill Outman]

Hi, Alan.  

Your suggestion about how to address the story reading problem is a good
one, but it must be presented in a way that adds to what this mother is
already doing well.  We need to remember there is no such thing as a perfect
parent, and that the able-bodied parent also needs support and suggestions
for better ways of doing things from time to time.  

Bill Outman 



-----Original Message-----
From: Nfbf-l [mailto:nfbf-l-bounces at nfbnet.org] On Behalf Of Alan Dicey via
Nfbf-l
Sent: Tuesday, January 06, 2015 1:09 PM
To: NFB Florida List Group
Subject: [Nfbf-l] What's wrong with this story - Blind Mom, sighted Child

What's wrong with this story - Blind Mom, sighted Child Dear Friends, I got
this off the net, and it was passed around so many times, I could not
determine where it was first posted, and it is a very nice story, but what
is wrong with it? Or is it me?  I mean, could this wonderful Mom have gotten
some assistance, like learning to read Braille Books to her child?
With Best Regards,
God Bless,
Alan
Plantation, Florida

---
maribel holding baby (photo)
My four year old son scrambles from one activity to the next at our local 
playground. He knows I can't see him properly, my vision faded years before 
he was born but he still calls out, "Watch me, Mummy. I'm over here." I turn

my head to face the direction of his chirpy voice.
"There! Now, don't move your head." he says, "You're looking straight at 
me." I praise his climbing ability, listening intently while praying, 
"please don't fall off." The hands on my  Braille watch tell me it is time 
to move on, and I am relieved from blind-patrol duty in the playground. My 
son skips beside me and we walk towards the Kindergarten. "Can we play I spy

with my little eye?" He asks. I smile. I love his passion for play, and how 
he can ignore my vision-impairment. I wish I could. "OK. You first," I say, 
hiding my feelings of visual inadequacy. "I spy with my little eye," he 
trills, "something that is...green."
(photo) boy sitting on slide
Arriving at Our Destination

After a few guesses, we arrive at our destination and he helps me locate the

special handle to open the child-security gate. He bounces happily into the 
Kinder playground, but I feel anxious trying to follow his disappearing 
trail. I can't distinguish my son from the other children running past me. 
Which child is mine? Was that his voice calling "Mum, come and push me on 
the swing." The other mothers know I am visually impaired from  retinitis 
pigmentosa and kindly watch Michael on my behalf, keeping me informed with 
running commentary on his changing activities. I appreciate their 
thoughtfulness.

Locating My Child in a Busy Place

To compensate for this lack of sight on my part, I find other ways to locate

my child in a busy place - by dressing my son in bright contrasting 
clothing. Today, I look out for him in his green and white striped t-shirt, 
dark navy shorts. Yesterday, it was a bright red top and light grey 
trousers. I can relax a little, as my eyes travel around the yard to spot 
his bobbing yellow cap or flashing white runners. These things I do see. At 
other times, Michael springs up from behind and touches my hand, "I'm going 
over there now. Ok?"

Trials and Tribulations of Folding Paper

On some days, we sit together on tiny wooden chairs, at the round
table, following his teacher's creative instructions. Today, she is
showing the little people how to fold and bend paper to make a paper
plane. Michael asks me for sighted guidance but I have no idea how to
advise him. We persevere together, awkwardly turning the paper this
way and that. "Now, just fold along this line, then turn the paper
over this way and then..." the teacher holds up her paper plane. The
children sound impressed. "Which way, Mummy?" Michael asks, "is this
right?" I reply as if none of this is bothering me at all. "What do
you think, darling? Does it look like your teacher's plane?" He seems
happy enough to persist with the folding of paper unaware of his mother's 
upset, holding back tears of deep frustration. Finally, the teacher comes 
over to guide him through the process. She touches my shoulder, my heart 
trips with gratitude as she kindly tells Michael, "Clever boy. That's nearly

right."

Sharing a Tactile Communication

Back in the comfort of our home, and away from scrutinizing eyes, I
feel I can help my son more effectively in his education. We collect
birthday cards and cut out magazine pictures, chatting about the
images, pasting them into our own large scrapbooks, remembering the
scenes on each page. I sing silly songs and tell stories and make up
rhymes to spark his imagination as he learns about the world around
us. We share a tactile communication: through puzzle play, clay
molding, Lego building, baking cookies. My son learns to bypass my
lack of sight by tracing shapes onto my open palm, knowing that when
he does this, mummy can "see" the object by drawing it. His little
fingers tickle my palm and I hold back tears of love for his
thoughtfulness.
michael playing with tactile shapes
Wise Words to Last a Lifetime

One night, as I struggle to read his bedtime book, I put down the
magnifying glass and give a deep sigh and say, "Oh dear, this is very
slow, isn't it, darling?" My dear young son jumps up from under the
blankets, flings his warm arms around my neck, and says words I will
never forget, "That's ok, Mummy. Don't ever give up. You can tell me
one of your stories instead."
---end story---
With Best Regards,
God Bless,
Alan
Plantation, Florida
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