[Ohio-Talk] In the May 2020 Braille Monitor, "Owning Your Voice"

Fri May 15 12:48:52 UTC 2020

Thank you, Suzanne, for pulling these two articles out of the May issue. I hope that people will read them and then go get the entire issue and read it all, cover to cover. We should all be opening ourselves to these healthy ideas.

Have a good day,
Barbara
Barbara Pierce, President Emerita
National Federation of the Blind of Ohio
Barbara.pierce9366 at gmail.com
440-774-8077

The National Federation of the Blind knows that blindness is not the characteristic that defines you or your future. Every day we raise expectations for blind people because low expectations create obstacles between blind people and their dreams. You can live the life you want; blindness is not what holds you back.

> On May 13, 2020, at 4:23 PM, Suzanne Turner via Ohio-Talk <ohio-talk at nfbnet.org> wrote:
> 
> 
> Owning Your Voice
> 
> 
> by Nina Marranca
> 
> From the Editor: Nina Marranca is a bright, witty Federationist whose
> writing is both entertaining and educational. I particularly like the case
> she makes for not remaining ignorant but embracing the things she needs to
> learn. Nina is currently working on her bachelor's degree in psychology and
> criminal justice at Medaille College and is simultaneously getting training
> at the Louisiana Center for the Blind. Her goal is to get her PhD in
> clinical psychology. 
> This speech was delivered at the National Association of Blind Students
> Leadership Seminar which occurred just before the 2020 Washington Seminar.
> Here is what she said:
> 
> Good morning everyone. For those of you who don't already know me, I'm Nina
> Marranca. I'm from New York but am currently in training at the Louisiana
> Center for the Blind. I'm studying psychology and criminal justice. My goal
> is to make a career in the field of trauma-informed mental health and to
> conduct clinical-minded research. But beyond those boring details, I'm an
> extrovert, if you haven't figured that one out already. Coffee is of equal
> importance to oxygen in my book, and when I'm not being loud, which
> considering I come from a large Italian family tends to be rare, you can
> find me reading or binge-watching murder shows. I've been involved with the
> NFB for almost a year-and-a-half. I am very excited to speak with you all
> today.
> 
> These remarks required a bit of reflection from me on the last year and life
> in general. About a year ago I heard a dynamic and beautiful person speak at
> the 2019 NABS Winter Seminar. She is a close friend of mine and the same
> person who asked me to speak with you all as a matter of fact. She told her
> story with such confidence and conviction. Her words were beautifully
> honest, fueled with determination and a sense of individuality. She talked
> about growth, self-discovery, and learning to view obstacles as a source of
> strength, rather than reasons to doubt our abilities. When I think of owning
> your voice, her speech still jumps to the forefront of my mind. The energy
> in that room had been powerful; her speech made me think I want to do that.
> I want to stand up and own my words like that. I want to help others feel
> like that.
> 
> At this time last year, it wasn't that I had never advocated before. Sure, I
> had spoken up during the run-of-the-mill daily interactions in a coffee
> shop, on the bus, in the grocery store. The jobs I hold while in school
> require me to talk with students and families on a daily basis about a
> variety of services and individual circumstances. I didn't have a problem
> asking questions or attempting to correct misconceptions. In short, if you
> would have asked me back then if I owned my voice, I would've responded
> quickly with "Of course I do." I only see now that I was wrong.
> 
> What does it mean to own your voice? I asked a group of students that very
> question the other day. I received answers about realizing the impact you
> can have, about being cautious with tone and dynamics, and even about
> copyrighting one's voice so that you could, literally, own said voice.
> Here's the thing: none of those answers were wrong. After explaining that I
> was using their answers as a starting place when preparing this speech,
> someone turned to me and asked: "Well, what does it mean to you to own your
> voice?" Surprisingly, I had to stop and think. I wanted to pinpoint the
> first time I felt that I could truly use my voice for more than just yelling
> about which of my brothers ate the remains of a pizza that I had counted on
> for lunch. So I thought about it, and it took me back to a classroom, of all
> places. But in this instance, I was not the student.
> I had just finished reading a story in Braille to a bunch of first and
> second graders. It was the first time I did school outreach. Since then I've
> talked in countless classrooms, auditoriums, and cafeterias. Those
> presentations are beyond enjoyable, especially when you factor in the open
> and honest nature of kids. They ask questions that adults will flinch away
> from, apologizing and admonishing instead of praising curiosity and
> stimulating acceptance. I'll get back to the importance of questions in a
> moment, but first, I'd like to tell you all about my first experience
> speaking in a classroom.
> 
> The kids were seated in a circle on a carpet. There were maybe ten or twelve
> of them. Before reading, we talked. Little fingertips skimmed Braille pages
> and held my cane, while small voices asked questions that adults wonder but
> would never let themselves ask. After I read the story, the little boy who
> had been showing the pictures in the book to his classmates stood before me,
> nervously guiding my hand because he wanted to show me the braces that
> covered at least half of his body. "That's so cool!" I exclaimed. "You're
> like iron man, you know? You're a real superhero. I think that's awesome!"
> His small hand slapped mine in a high five, and I could hear the smile in
> his voice as he laughed. His classmates watched on, in silent awe of my
> revelation that this little boy may in fact wear gear that resembled a
> real-life superhero instead of gear that made it no doubt difficult to run
> and play like everyone else.
> 
> It wasn't until after that I found out this little boy had been struggling
> with being picked on by his classmates, with learning to use his voice, with
> learning to accept that he was different from the other kids. This little
> dude's name is Keath, and to this day, that memory sticks with me. After
> leaving that day, my heart was content. Put simply, I was happy and
> exhilarated all at once. It was the first time I truly felt I owned my
> voice, and all of the credit goes to a superhero-loving six-year-old. 
> 
> Since then I've spoken in countless classrooms, whether they are filled with
> bubbly five-year-olds or students studying to become teachers. However, I
> wouldn't be completely honest if I acted as if one experience made me
> comfortable with owning my voice, in situations related to blindness and in
> those that are not. Instead it has been a collection of small moments that
> have transformed me from someone who found walking to the corner or asking
> for assistance incredibly terrifying. It's been a long process for me, and I
> am still learning. Just to name a few experiences in which I feel that I
> have owned my voice offhand: advocating at last year's Washington Seminar,
> hosting and producing a podcast with other students, being a part of a panel
> discussion teaching families how to ensure equal college education for
> students with disabilities, and preparing my research papers for submission
> for publication. All of these things may seem different on the surface, but
> all of them give me the feeling I had when I spoke to kids in a classroom
> for the first time-a mix of contentment and exhilaration. Owning your voice
> doesn't happen with one encounter; rather, it's about finding where you feel
> content using your voice for good, for change, to stand up for what you
> believe in. 
> 
> Today I feel confident when standing in the face of adversity because I know
> that I have the power through my voice to speak up. I have the power to be a
> leader but also admit when I do not know something. That is why questions
> are so important. The majority of misconceptions stem from a lack of
> knowledge. However, when learning to own your voice, I urge you to embrace
> this lack of knowledge instead of being disquieted by it; it is a perfect
> starting place for growth and education. I encourage you to help others ask
> questions and to recognize the importance of asking them yourself. I have
> found that this is a huge part of owning your voice and using it to the best
> of your ability.
> 
> I would like to bring up another point about owning your voice that I
> personally struggle with. This may seem like common sense, but it is worth
> mentioning. Owning your voice does not mean that you will always be the
> perfect advocate, or mentor, or student, whatever your goal is, all of the
> time. This is something I personally struggle with because I'm a major
> perfectionist, and sometimes I feel like I should be able to advocate for it
> all, fix it all, react in the best possible way all of the time. 
> 
> Last summer several students and I were traveling back to an event using
> Lyft. It had been a weekend filled with discussions on advocating, on
> learning to use your voice the way you want to, whether that be through
> leadership or something else. After first accusing us that we all were not
> blind and lecturing us on proper passenger etiquette because you know, the
> fact that every person had either a cane or a dog apparently didn't solidify
> the whole blind thing for him, he stated: "You know, I think it's great that
> you all are coming out. It's an inspiration." "So we're an inspiration
> because we're living our lives?" I asked. "Yes, isn't that the point?," the
> driver said before attempting to "educate" me about how the efforts of blind
> people were heroic and inspirational because we clearly shouldn't be
> traveling alone. I ended up snapping at the driver to stop speaking to us. I
> was furious. You'd think most of my anger would be directed at the driver,
> right? Oh, it was, and my friend found it helpful to announce upon arriving
> at our destination "Yeah, I saw her inner Italian come out for the first
> time." But I was actually mad at myself. How could I mentor these students
> and teach them to use their voices for good if I can't even do that with a
> Lyft driver? Doesn't that make me a hypocrite of the highest degree?
> 
> This bothered me for a bit until I helped lead a group discussion that got
> pretty personal. A student whom I'd been working with that weekend, someone
> who had barely spoken a word the first night, was the top contributor in
> this conversation. She shared experiences, listened to others, and responded
> beautifully. She was coming out of her shell, and to this day, I'm still
> witnessing this transformation.
> 
> I realized something that day. No matter how you choose to own your voice,
> because it is your choice, you will not always use it correctly or to the
> best of your ability. There will be times when you think: why do I even
> bother? But there will be many more moments when you think: I did the right
> thing; my voice had an impact here. I live for those little victories. As
> you learn to grow and to find where you feel both content and exhilarated
> while using your voice, remember that owning your voice is a lifelong
> process. It can be fraught with uncertainty and discomfort. But owning your
> voice also means you will experience countless small victories, experiences
> that fill your heart and teach you lessons that will bring you closer to the
> person you want to be. I challenge you to never forget the impact of a
> single conversation. I challenge you to push yourself out of your comfort
> zone in any way you feel best fits you. I challenge you to find what you
> love, because in my experience, passion grants us the ability to own our
> voice in a way that knowledge at times may not. And finally, I challenge you
> to revel in the small victories, to surround yourself with people who
> encourage you to own your voice in all that you do, and to always, always
> aspire for more.
> 
> I would like to leave you all with a quote from Maya Angelou that I feel
> sums up the nature of the process of learning to own your voice. She says:
> "We delight in the beauty of the butterfly but rarely admit the changes it
> has gone through to achieve that beauty."
> 
> _______________________________________________
> Ohio-Talk mailing list
> Ohio-Talk at nfbnet.org
> http://nfbnet.org/mailman/listinfo/ohio-talk_nfbnet.org
> To unsubscribe, change your list options or get your account info for Ohio-Talk:
> http://nfbnet.org/mailman/options/ohio-talk_nfbnet.org/barbara.pierce9366%40gmail.com