[Ohio-talk] I Once Was Lost

Thu Sep 22 16:03:53 UTC 2016

This was outstanding!
Suzanne

Suzanne Turner,
Life is what you make it, live it to the fullest! Sent from my iPhone

> On Sep 22, 2016, at 11:10 AM, Sheri Albers via Ohio-Talk <ohio-talk at nfbnet.org> wrote:
> 
> Good morning,
> Thank you for posting this article Richard. This really hits home for me
> because that very same convention in Louisville, was my very first one also.
> I owe so much to the NFB for giving me a life that I never dreamed was
> possible. That is why I am so passionate about the NFB and all that we do.
> Sheri Albers
> 
> -----Original Message-----
> From: Ohio-Talk [mailto:ohio-talk-bounces at nfbnet.org] On Behalf Of richard
> via Ohio-Talk
> Sent: Thursday, September 22, 2016 6:02 AM
> To: 'NFB of Ohio Announcement and Discussion List'
> Cc: richard
> Subject: [Ohio-talk] I Once Was Lost
> 
> The Braille Monitor
> December, 2003
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> )(next <https://nfb.org/Images/nfb/Publications/bm/bm03/bm0312/bm031207.htm>
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> <https://nfb.org/Images/nfb/Publications/bm/bm03/bm0312/bm0312tc.htm>
> I Once Was Lost
> by Darrel Kirby
> From the Editor: Darrel Kirby attended his first national convention last
> summer. It was a profoundly moving experience for him, as you will see in
> the following article, which he wrote soon after he returned home. This is
> what he says:
> "Can I help you?" a friendly-sounding man asked as I wandered through the
> halls of the Galt House in Louisville, Kentucky, looking for the elevator.
> Quite embarrassed, I sheepishly replied, "Please! I am lost."
> The stranger calmly remarked, "I am sure you have some idea of where you
> are. What are you looking for?"
> "The elevator," I said.
> He then asked, "Where do you think you are?"
> This stranger had raised an excellent question. So where was I? It was my
> first NFB convention, and I was overwhelmed when I became disoriented by the
> labyrinth of hallways in the Galt House. Everything my cane hit felt new and
> strange. But the truth was that I had been feeling lost throughout the year
> since losing my sight. In a matter of months I went from having 20/20 vision
> to no sight at all.
> The stranger responded to my plea for help by asking if I knew where I was
> going. Honestly, for a long time I had no idea where I was headed. His
> questions returned me to a time of little direction and shattered dreams. I
> had finished two years of college at the University of Iowa when diabetic
> retinopathy took my sight, causing me to withdraw from school. I did not
> know what it meant to be blind, nor what I would do to accomplish my life
> goals as a blind person. I had much trouble adjusting to life without sight.
> I was afraid to learn Braille and use a cane. If the stranger in the hall
> had asked months earlier where I was going, I would have had no idea at all.
> When I first lost my sight, my life often seemed out of control, so panic
> was inevitable. Blindness was something I could not hide from or escape.
> Without skills I could not read a book, travel anywhere, or think of myself
> as a capable person. I questioned my faith in and understanding of the world
> around me. Even if I could accept myself as a blind man, everything was
> suddenly a blindness issue, and I did not know how to be blind. Thus I spent
> months in denial of my blindness.
> With no blindness skills and little hope, I moved home with my parents, who
> witnessed the metamorphosis of a vibrant and motivated young college student
> into a hopeless loner. Frustrated, I spent much of my time in my bedroom,
> hiding from the sighted world. I remember getting out of bed one night and
> heading toward the hall. Because of the angle of the partially open door and
> my unreliable sight, I walked right into the edge of the door. The sharp
> edge hurt my forehead, but not as much as it hurt my spirit. I was tired of
> being blind.
> When I walked out into the hallway, the tears streaming down my cheeks, I
> met my dad. He asked what was wrong, and I summed up what I thought was
> wrong in three words, "I can't see." When the reality of those three words
> hit my dad, he fell into my arms and wept. He held on to me so tightly that
> I winced and moaned a bit in pain. He let go and began to fall. I grabbed
> for him and held him up. I had never seen my dad cry, and I was not sure how
> to react. At that moment I understood the reality of my situation. I was not
> only losing my sight, I was losing the confidence of those who had been most
> proud of me.
> When I decided to move home, I imagined my parents would provide the support
> I needed, yet here I was comforting my father. After a few moments of
> silence, I reassured him that everything would be okay. I doubt that my dad
> believed I had really accepted my fate as a blind man. How could I blame him
> for reacting the way he had when I too saw no future for myself? When my dad
> recovered and left me, I hid in the shower, letting the noise of the water
> drown out the sound of my tears. I had never felt so scared and alone in all
> of my life. I remained in the shower, panic-stricken by the thought of being
> alone and blind in a sighted world.
> Even though I left my parents and returned to school, I continued to feel
> lost and alone. Then one day, unexpectedly, I was rescued by two strangers
> on a bus. They turned out to be two dedicated NFB members. Seeing the
> confidence and energy in these two blind Federationists was my first dose of
> medicine. I had finally met blind people who were in control of their lives.
> They told me about the National Federation of the Blind, a civil rights
> organization that worked to help improve the lives of blind people.
> Curiosity got the better of me, and I attended my first NFB chapter meeting.
> The members of the Old Capitol Chapter in Iowa City made me realize that
> blind people live productive lives. I was surrounded by a group of role
> models who adopted me in my time of need. I lacked blindness skills like
> cane travel and Braille. More important, I had no confidence. However, the
> members of my chapter directed me to the Iowa Department for the Blind
> Orientation Center.
> The orientation center emphasizes the importance of Braille, cane travel,
> and attitude changes. It also provides classes in home economics and
> industrial arts. The philosophy of the NFB and spirit of Dr. Kenneth
> Jernigan, who first established the program, remain in the walls of the
> orientation center. I was working hard at the Center when I learned that I
> was going to be able to attend the NFB national convention in Louisville
> with the help of the Kenneth Jernigan Scholarship Fund. As convention grew
> closer, I heard more and more great things about this annual event.
> When I informed my friends and family that I would be attending the
> convention, my dad asked if I would be flying with someone who had sight. I
> told him that I would not. Still perceiving me as the scared man who angrily
> cried in the hall about being blind, he could not fathom the idea of a blind
> person flying without a sighted person and pleaded with me not to go. I was
> attending a center that taught me every day about all that the blind could
> accomplish, yet I felt a struggle between what I believed I might be able to
> do and what my father thought I could do. My father represented all those
> who doubted my capabilities. I decided that, if I could withstand the
> skepticism of my own father, I could ignore the skepticism of anyone who
> stood in the way of what I wanted to accomplish. In spite of my father's
> uncertainty and my own fears, I knew I must fly to Louisville. I had to
> prove to myself that I could do this.
> I traveled to the national convention with Allen and Joy Harris. Mr. Harris,
> the director at the Orientation Center in Des Moines, decided to test my
> travel skills by moving through the airport as fast as he could. I passed
> the test, and suddenly my flight home alone with the layover in Detroit did
> not seem so scary. Still I arrived in Louisville completely overwhelmed.
> Like most first-timers at the NFB national convention, I was anxious and a
> little hesitant. I did not know what to expect. I had heard many great
> things about the NFB and its members, and I did not want to be disappointed.
> I will never forget the feeling of walking into a roomful of almost 2,500
> blind people. The energy in the room surpassed any I had felt before. As I
> sat in general session, I heard speeches on improving Braille literacy, the
> newest technology, and the development of the national training center in
> Baltimore. I listened to what we, as an organization, have done in the past
> year and what we will work toward in coming years. I discovered how much
> debate and drafting goes into adopting NFB resolutions.
> I was pleased to see structured disagreement among the Federationists. We
> were tackling issues that are both important and controversial. Change can
> be made only when difficult issues are addressed. I felt a bit of what I
> offer the NFB when I witnessed the vote of states on the resolution
> concerning informed choice. For the first time I felt involved in a cause to
> improve the lives of blind people. At the banquet I tried to sing NFB songs,
> and I listened to Dr. Maurer's banquet speech describing a hypothetical,
> absurd world in which people discriminate according to height; then he
> related the absurdity to the way people think of blindness.
> I was excited to discover NFB divisions and interest groups for most
> professions. I eagerly attended the mock trial sponsored by the blind
> lawyers division. It was based on a 1973 policy in a Colorado school
> district stipulating that blind people could not teach. I learned much at
> the Human Services and the National Association of Blind Students meetings.
> I identified with the struggles of other blind college students and signed
> on to the NABS listserv upon my return to Des Moines.
> As much as I enjoyed and learned from the organized events, they did not
> compare to some of the informal late-night gatherings in hotel rooms. I am
> proud to admit that I did not sleep more than three hours a night during my
> time at the convention. I met interesting Federationists who shared my
> beliefs and concerns. We discussed and debated the merits of proposed
> resolutions. I heard people talk about the highs and lows of the previous
> year and witnessed the support and motivation NFB members gave each other. I
> developed a bond with other Federationists who had just lost their sight as
> we shared advice on adjusting to our lives as blind people. I also learned
> from the wisdom of longtime NFB members and talked with individuals who have
> attained their career goals.
> As serious as many of the conversations were, a majority of them were funny
> and entertaining. Many nights were filled with funny stories about
> blindness. When I heard about a blind couple who walked around their house
> minus their clothes, unaware that the curtain covering a large picture
> window had fallen down, I laughed with the group. For the first time I
> realized that I could laugh at myself, at the little things that had
> embarrassed me in the past, including the time I was leaving a classroom at
> the University of Iowa and felt what I believed was a swarm of bugs
> attacking my head. When I reached up to swat the bugs with my hands, I
> realized that I was swatting the hangers that hung from the coat rack along
> the wall of the room. With my short stature, the bottoms of the hangers
> barely brushed the top of my head. When I told this story, I laughed, and my
> fellow Federationists laughed with me.
> Unlike the frightened blind man who sat and cried in the shower, I no longer
> felt alone. I realized then that the common thread knitting us together was
> no thread, but a bridge cable that would never be broken. A support network
> was developing right before my eyes. My NFB family was growing, and I would
> not be alone again. The late-night chats and chance encounters made me more
> eager to read my Braille, use my cane, and hold my head high.
> I left those hotel rooms more confident than I had entered them. I was sure
> I would find my way back to my room with ease, but here I was at four in the
> morning, trying to find the West Tower elevator. I made it across the bridge
> between the towers, but I took a wrong turn somewhere in the West Tower.
> Thus began my search for the elevator and then my two-hour conversation with
> a total stranger.
> My rescuer was a longtime member of the NFB happy to speak with a first-time
> conventioneer. We discussed the challenges of blindness, the power of
> confidence, and the philosophy of the NFB. My newfound friend explained that
> we all have times when we feel lost with no one around to help. At such
> times we should remember that we are truly lost only when we lose hope. We
> must also understand that wrong turns are easy to make both on travel routes
> and in life. Some of us feel lost selecting a college, choosing a career, or
> pursuing a lifelong goal. Others feel lost trying to find an elevator. At
> such times we all need direction and guidance.
> It suddenly dawned on me that the NFB and all its members were willing to
> provide that guidance for me. I could rely on the strength of the NFB and
> other Federationists in my times of need. When I need a reminder of my own
> potential, I will turn to my Federation friends and let their
> accomplishments inspire me. Never again will I feel lost and alone.
> My rescuer and I concluded our talk as the sun began to rise. We exchanged
> email addresses, and I thanked him for his guidance. With caring ease he
> gave me a pat on the back and said, "Take two steps to the right and walk
> forward." He then added, "I don't think you were lost at all."
> With an energy I had not felt before, I stepped onto the elevator and said
> with confidence, "Yeah, people don't feel as lost once they've been found."
> 
> 
> 
> 
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