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

[Joanne Laurent]

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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