[Nfbf-l] Imagine This

[Alan Dicey]

Dear Friends,
This was sent to me by a friend, and they did not post the author's name.
I thought some would find this intresting, even relate to it as I do, when I 
lost my eyesight   Thank goodness things have improved over the years, at 
least in the State of Florida, but I have friends in States in our Nation, 
where things are still not very good for people who lose their eyesight and 
go Blind.
With Best Regards,
God Bless,
Alan
Plantation, Florida

Imagine: You've just entered your office on what may well be the most 
hectic, stressful day of your life.
Suddenly you realize all of your Reference books, piles of paper work and 
notes are covered with little Bumps.  In fact, you discover there is not one 
single printed word to be found.  Every scrap of information necessary to do 
your job is now in Braille. Imagine: you rush back out of your office, 
wildly looking about, peering Into offices, staring over the shoulders of 
clerks.  Everybody is calmly doing their job, using Braille.
Mysteriously they have learned the Language Overnight.  Only you, it seems, 
were overlooked.  For some unknown reason, You Are permanently and totally 
Braille challenged.
Imagine: you dash for the door hoping the rest of the world has not gone 
Mad.  It has! In the elevator, you're not sure which button to press for The 
Lobby.  Someone has to help you.  They stare at you as if you are stupid.
Pausing at the newsstand, you are unable to tell one magazine from another. 
You can't stand it, you need to go home and collect your thoughts.  But at 
The bus stop, there's no way of telling which coach is yours.  You back 
Away, not wanting anyone to know, and you decide you'll call a cab.  Of 
course, You Only brought bus fare and lunch money, not nearly enough for the 
taxi.
Remembering your bankcard, you pull it out as you run back into the Lobby.
There, at the ATM, you stop short.  The card has turned to Braille, and so 
have all of the instructions on the machine.  You'll have to call home and 
ask for help.  Funny, you never paid much attention to the telephone dial 
and now, in your growing state of confusion, you don't recall which number 
goes where
You are so alone, so frightened, you actually begin to weep.
Imagine: you have always seen yourself as a leader, a visionary, a 
problem-solver.  You will not run from this challenge.  You shall succeed.
You have a large mortgage.  Once you have recovered from the great shock, 
you begin looking for ways to survive.
Imagine: you have finally made arrangements, through your employer, to hire 
a Braille reader, a process so complex and painful you plan to patent it and 
use it to torture Terrorists.
Now you sit in your chair going quietly mad listening to the drone of your 
reader's voice, taking hours of time to cover what you once scanned in 
minutes, while others whip about you efficiently communicating among 
themselves via Braille-FAX and Email.
You begin to feel the "ice" in isolation.  Imagine: you learn you are not 
alone.  You are a member of a very small minority of Braille-Challenged 
people.
There is, in fact, a Braille-less culture; a history far too long and 
complex to discuss here.
So, you become a member of the, Braille-less Association of America (BAA).
At the BAA meetings you find out about a number of small companies 
manufacturing adaptive equipment which enables Braille-less persons to 
access all of the Braille computers, FAX machines, Braille scanners and 
Braillers.  The expense is far more than you can afford, so you seek 
assistance from your employer.  Your request is turned down.  There are no 
requirements that your employer accommodate your disability. Imagine: BAA, 
along with many other disability groups, battle in Congress for the passage 
of a Bill, guaranteeing you equal treatment under the Law.  The bill passes 
and, despite subtle messages from your fiscal officer, money is, "found" for 
your accommodation.
After considerable time and effort, the technician from the Department of 
Services for the Braille-less, has you on-line.  Now you are able to scan 
Braille text and convert the little dots into letters, and through a very 
complex process, the Braille display on your computer is transformed into 
print.
Finally, you are again up to speed, being your old efficient self, feeling 
good about your work.
Imagine: you are humming and smiling and cranking along in high gear. 
Suddenly, a message flashes on your screen and drives terror through your 
heart.  New breakthroughs in technology have produced equipment so superior 
to the ancient junk--at least four years old-- presently in use, that your 
organization is upgrading the entire communications system.  The BAA, 
technicians have already informed you that your adaptive equipment is not 
compatible with it.
You go to the, "Powers-That-Be" in your organization, and request a meeting 
to discuss this concern.  You are told that your fears are groundless.  You 
will not be forgotten.
Following this meeting a rumour goes around hinting that you are trying to 
sabotage the new system, and your associates begin to whisper behind your 
back.  They want the new system.  It's far superior, more compact, ten times 
faster, and it's cool looking. They are sick of your "whining and constant 
complaining".  You feel the "ice" settling in again.
Imagine: you have been forgotten.
The new system is in place.  Everybody loves it.  You've been told not to 
worry; someone will be around to do what is necessary to put you back 
on-line.  The "someone" they had in mind is the same technician who told you 
the system would not work.  Despite your concerns, no one bothered to 
investigate before the equipment was installed.
Once again you sit, going quietly mad while your reader ploughs line by line 
through the piles of Braille.
Imagine: you know you are close to losing your mind or your job--probably 
both.  You must find other employment, but you do not want your associates 
to know you are finally beaten.
You try to figure out a way to do a quiet job search when all information is 
only accessible in Braille.
One day you hear that your State has developed a central information centre, 
called a, "kiosk".
These information centres are being set up in easily accessible locations. 
The plan is for these kiosks to make government information and services 
available quickly and conveniently, to the public.  Sort of a "one stop 
shopping centre".  You learn that lists of job openings are among the many 
services offered.  This is perfect.  This is exactly what you need.  You 
discover your town recently placed a kiosk in the Mall.  You go there on 
Saturday afternoon.  There it stands, costing the taxpayers hundreds of 
thousands of dollars to create, but well worth it.  In its ultimate form, 
the kiosks will bring virtually all State services right into your local 
neighbourhood.  You are thrilled as you step up to the controls.  An 
automated voice welcomes you and brags about the wonders of this system. 
Breathlessly, you wait for your instructions... Then, the Braille display 
appears. Imagine: they are dragging you away, shrieking at the top of your 
voice.  Onlookers are amazed.  They do not know how you managed to rip the 
iron bench from the floor of the Mall.  None of them dared to try to stop 
you as you swung it over your head, again and again, smashing the kiosk into 
pieces of broken plastic, glass and twisted metal.  None of them understand 
why you kept screaming the same words over and over.
"I pay taxes, too! I pay taxes, too! I pay taxes, too!