[nfbwatlk] FW: [OandM] low vision, my story

Wed Oct 29 19:29:16 UTC 2008

Yes, she is truly an inspiration.
Sarah
----- Original Message ----- 
From: "KAYE KIPP" <kkipp123 at msn.com>
To: "NFB of Washington Talk Mailing List" <nfbwatlk at nfbnet.org>
Sent: Monday, October 27, 2008 10:48 PM
Subject: Re: [nfbwatlk] FW: [OandM] low vision, my story

I *love* it.  She got out from under it.  Oh boy.  How many of us have had
to do that?

Kaye
----- Original Message ----- 
From: "Joanne Laurent" <joanne at blindcoach.com>
To: "'NFB of Washington Talk Mailing List'" <nfbwatlk at nfbnet.org>
Sent: Monday, October 27, 2008 5:48 PM
Subject: [nfbwatlk] FW: [OandM] low vision, my story

>I am forwarding a story, that I think you'll like, from the O&M listserv.
> This is one person's personal story about her struggle to be allowed to
> use
> a cane. She was writing in response to frustrated teachers' who must
> constantly deal with parents who resist allowing their kids to use canes
> or
> other non-visual skills.
>
>
> -----Original Message-----
> From: oandm-bounces at lists.aerbvi.org
> [mailto:oandm-bounces at lists.aerbvi.org]
> On Behalf Of Becky Frankeberger
> Sent: Monday, October 27, 2008 6:13 PM
> To: OandM at lists.aerbvi.org
> Subject: [OandM] low vision, my story
>
> Thinking about those terrifying days as a little kid with very low vision,
> well all those feelings come right up again. Hiding behind my mother to
> afraid to move, as something I knew would jump out at me and make me fall.
> This hiding gave me time to look around and figure out if there were
> dangers
> to avoid.  I could see contrasts.  So if we went from a light colored
> floor
> to a rug, that change was where the monster was.  You know a step or, at
> one
> place I went a slope, which landed me on my backside as my mother screamed
> at me to "watch where I was going!" sy.  My little brain said how stupid I
> am and mom is right.  Back to my hiding place behind her legs, or on the
> chair she placed me on. No playing with the other kids in the next room.
> They might cause me to fall, was bad.  So munching cookies sitting with
> the
> adults was good.
>
> So was my life all through school.  We would walk from classroom to
> classroom.  I was forbidden to walk any other place.  One year she forgot
> to
> show me where the bathroom was.  One of my classroom teachers noticed my
> distress and had another kid walk me.  He was a nice young man, but could
> not enter with me.  I stood paralyzed, what would I do now.  Here was a
> box
> looking thing three feet in front of me, but where was the door?  Then I
> felt around the side and into the stall I went quickly.  The toilet seat
> was
> dark compared to the light surroundings.  I sat for a while not finding
> the
> toilet paper.  I started to panic.  Then the Kleenex my mom put in my
> pocket
> came to mind.  Somehow I easily found the flusher, now where is the sink
> to
> wash up.  I was never permitted to leave the bathroom without washing at
> least my hands.  Tears came and I just groped as the wall I was looking at
> was white on white.  The teacher came to the door and asked if I was
> alright.  Drying my hands I softly told her I was fine, as I grabbed the
> brown looking door, exiting to her safety.  She asked if I was alright.  I
> asked her for a Kleenex.
>
> I was just the kid who could not see very well and had to be escorted
> everywhere I went, just in case of monsters you know.
>
> I was a straight A kid, until sixth grade.  Large print books disappeared,
> not that I could read them very well without much eye strain.  But I did
> have my trusty tape recorder.  My Itinerant teacher figured out that I
> could
> at least get some of my books through Talking Books.  Well actually it was
> RFB.  I got books many years from Talking Books so that is what they told
> me
> they were from; big secret you know.
>
> I was twelve when a lovely O and M Angel, Cathy Dockerdy from PA, put a
> cane
> in my hand and taught me how to wisely think through many problems.  I got
> so much crap from my mother about not using it, so much crap from the
> school
> that I was going to trip someone in the halls, going through my horrible
> self imagine problems, I just stayed crippled to shut everyone up.  My
> beautiful angel O and M instructor tried with all her heart.  I was so
> beaten into submission; she was dismissed off my case.  I stayed at home
> wishing to kill myself, but too afraid.  I remembered the wonderful walks
> with Cathy angel and learning how to cross streets and walk myself alone
> with my own limited intellect.  I begged God for strength to tell them to
> shut up and I would do as I pleased and that I would use my cane.
> I was finally strong enough at twenty one years old.  I remember venturing
> off to walk around the block my mother saying "well if you fall don't come
> crying to me."
>
> Tears are falling as I write this.  Please don't let any child be like I
> was, please!
>  Every child deserves some dignity.
>
> Please Angels out there help us! Please help us with parents who just want
> to protect us, but in all actuality are crippling us.  Parents feel like
> mine that they are totally alone.  The only other parents of a blind child
> were I quote my parents, "the retarded kid down the block."  "My child
> will
> never have (the blindisms) that (name omitted) does."  So go to the
> consumer
> groups and find parents whose kids have coping skills and let them
> interact
> with each other.  Set up meetings, or do it through the consumer groups.
> But Angels, do something, please!
>
> At thirty six I finally got the courage to tell my mother I was getting a
> dog guide.  Her reaction, you guessed it, giggle! "Beck, you can't take
> care
> of yourself, how are you going to take care of a dog."  Talk about Job's
> comforters.  I felt destroyed inside, until I thought about where I was.
> Now
> Angels, I was living a hundred miles away from my mom.  I was doing very
> well in college.  But most importantly, I think anyway, I was living in my
> own apartment, finding people to help me shop, cooking for myself, paying
> my
> own bills.  Of course I could take care of a "dog"
>
> Here I am fifty years old so excited about starting my own business, and
> have only told my mom in passing. Finally I have learned a life lesson. My
> long white cane and now my dog guide have traveled all over the country;
> some thirty States and more to come! Woo Hoo!  Mom is still sitting at
> home.
> Which one of us is made a cripple? I am free.  My mom with her attitude
> made
> herself a cripple.
>
> Blindness was never a problem for me.  It was made a problem by not
> letting
> me learn the skills of blindness. That somber little girl trapped in her
> cocoon, has turned into a Beautiful Butterfly! Welcome to "Butterfly
> Knits!"
> exclusive manufacturer, in a few weeks, of "same Socks!"  And many more
> products to come out of my studio.
>
> Well that is my story and I am sticking to it, giggle.
>
> Becky fully enjoying the gift called life!  And dog guide Jake
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
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