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Hello my dearest readers,

I want to let you all know that I've moved my blog to wordpress. You can find my new site here. So many of the mobile versions of my blogger links are broken, and it's annoying having to continuously complain about them, especially since each post has a different error code. But until I figure out how to set up a forwarding address thing with blogger, this post is the best I can do.

Hope everyone's having a good weekend and preparing for the Fourth (if you celebrate)

And happy Canada Day (if I have any Canadian readers) 

There are some cool strangers out there

Last Monday, I was on my way home (to my actual home, not the dorm) after my first, and painful final exam of the semester.  I needed to get my eye drops from my mom.  And even though it was one of those days of near continuous rain, I was excited because I was at last finished with U . S.  History class, and for the home-cooked meal I knew awaited me.

My excitement started to dim, however, upon entering the subway and hearing the announcements about train delays and rerouting.  But I took it in stride and decided to stick with the messed up train line rather than walking in the rain to another station.

A few stops before Bowling Green, the last stop in Manhattan, the conductor made an announcement informing us that we wouldn't know whether or not the train would be heading into Brooklyn until we'd gotten to the stop.  I, and many of the other patrons on the train, were not pleased.  So, as I mentally cursed at myself for my laziness, I got off of the train and planned my next actions.  I knew I could transfer to the train I needed at that station, I just didn't know where the train was.  But as I adjusted my bag and prepared to ask someone for directions, someone approached me instead.

"Hey," the person said.  "Are you trying to get to another train?" Or that was the jist of what he asked.

I said yes, told him which train I needed and asked if I could take his arm after he offered to assist me.  As we walked, we talked, about writing, irritation with the train, school, the city.  It was fun (well, as fun as a meandering journey through a big train station can be).  But it was a nice, normal conversation.  He even gave me a few suggestions on how to get into freelance editing.

There was one point, near the end of our interaction, that I thanked him for not taking on that patronizing tone people tend to use with children.  He may have thought it a little odd, but took it in stride.  I don't encounter many people, strangers in particular, who talk to me as though I'm a normal person.  It's usually "you're so brave..." or "I can't even imagine..." or, even when discussing school or occupation, there's sometimes a condescending air about the person.  It may not be intentional but its there.

But that's not the point of the post.  With the many irritating experiences I rant about, I like to acknowledge the good or entertaining moments (like my letter to Margaret and Roman or that time a waiter acknowledged me).  Even if they seem simple or silly.  It's nice to know that, despite what we're taught as children, there are some cool strangers out there.

Looks Like I'm Home

"Do you want some?" I'm asked, as a bowl is thrust into my hands.

"What is it?" I reply, a little startled.

"Just eat it."

For a fully-sighted person, or simply someone with better vision than mine, they might be able to make a guess as to the contents of the bowl.  I, however, do not possess enough vision to do this.  So I ask again, and am met with:

"You don't want it?"

"Well, I don't know what it is."

At this point, I'm either told, with great irritation what it is, or it's taken away to be offered again later, with an agitated explanation of what it is.

"Here, smell this." She might say sometimes, quickly brushing something beneath my nose.

I lift my hand to hold it, figure out what it is, and position it better for optimal sniffing, but my hand is pushed aside.

"Just smell it."

* * *

Those, my darling readers, weren't the actions of some ignorant person on the street.  But, rather, the actions of my ignorant mother.  It sounds harsh, I know, but it is truth.  The incidents above have been happening for as long as I can remember.

It's happened a few times with other people, maybe not strangers but family members I don't know as well.  Perhaps they view it as a sort of game.  I don't.  And if I express any discontent, it's never met with understanding, at least from my mother.

The vignettes above are only two examples of her...  lack of understanding, I guess.  It's a phrase you probably wouldn't expect from the parent of a legally blind person.  But it's more common than you might think.

With regard to some things, my father's understanding and approach to my vision is better than my mother's: he's always pushed for me to ask for Braille menus at restaurants (an early form of advocacy), he used to describe the placement of my food as though the plate were a clock face (I always forget to ask where he learned that), and, as I discovered on Thursday, he agrees with my attitude and is entertained by the encounters I have with strangers.  That last is was discovered during a conversation we-my mother, father, godfather, and I-had on our drive home from my dorm.  I was regaling them with tales of people grabbing my arm at street corners, or grabbing my arm and insisting that I sit on public transportation, or grabbing my arm...  well, this could go on for a while.  But the conversation had started after my mom had expressed embarrassment when I asked for a Braille menu in the restaurant we'd gone to.  She'd said it once in the restaurant, and then again in the car.  It always embarrassed her when I did it, she said, to which my father responded: "she's entitled to it."

She also expressed "embarrassment" at my responses to strangers.  When I tell someone I don't need help, or that I don't wish to be prayed for.  She feels I should just go with it.  They mean well.  I should know when to ask for help, there was nothing wrong with that.  She didn't want to acknowledge, however, that there was a difference between soliciting assistance and being offered it, often forcefully, regardless of whether or not I need it.

She cited a few instances, even one that I happened to writ about a few years ago. Check it out here if your interested.

Some of my mother's actions and beliefs can be attributed to typical parental behavior.  She worries about me traveling, okay, normal.  She still checked in on and warns my twenty-eight-year-old sister about travel hazards.  She even still looks over and commented while my sister is cooking, offering often unwanted opinions.  But she doesn't follow my sister downstairs, and take the box of juice out of her hands to pour it.

So, all of that to say...  it looks like I'm back home.  And as you can tell, I'm none to excited about it.  But at least my sister understands (even though she's gone this first, painful weekend, she'll be back).  And my Godmother will be visiting in a few weeks.

I'm not going on any vacations: just working and taking a summer class.  So I'll be dealing with arguments over traveling (the three straight blocks to the train station), cooking/getting food for myself, talking on the phone late (if she hears my voice in the hall), etc, for the next two months.

Yay me (London Tipton voice)...  I hope you guys get that reference.

Well, happy Memorial Day (weekend)

Dating A Blind Person: "I Don't Think I Do That."

On line dating.

Despite there being millions of people signed into at least one such app or website at any given moment, there's still some lingering stigma surrounding the process. I was one of those people who thought it was crazy.  I still am, a little.  But with everyone's faces constantly pressed to a screen, or with voiceover in their ears, "how the hell else are we supposed to meet people?" a friend once queried.  But even online dating isn't a fool proof way to get to know folks.  And possibly find your one true love/soul mate (if that's your thing).

Most of my conversations die after a few days.  Even the ones that last longer eventually die.  With that said, however, in the past year, I have gone on two app-initiated dates.

The first, was, to put it mildly: atrocious.  The guy played dominoes for hours-literally-while my friend and I texted each other back-and-forth about the whole thing (I'd brought her along because, well, I was going on my first informal date with a stranger).  The second was a few weeks ago, and it was, ehh.  The guy and I talked for hours and then never spoke again.

In between those times, I did meet a young man in person.  But that didn't work out either.  He had way too much going on.  And then, after disappearing for a few months, reappeared wondering if I'd treat him to lunch so we could talk.  That thought wasn't very appealing, especially since I'd begun to get a little bored before we'd stopped communicating.

Over the last year and some change, I periodically forgot about or voluntarily stopped checking the two apps I was using (now only one).  But when I returned, I would strike up conversations or respond to missed messages.

The person this post involves, let's call him Joe, had messaged me about a week or so ago.  But my responses were usually a few days in coming because of school.  But Wednesday was different.  I was actively responding, and we'd taken our chat to one of those texting apps.

Conversation was going well until he sent me a photo of himself.  My response,, at the end of replying to his other messages was: also, fun fact, I'm visually impaired so pictures mean little to me.

Now, I must admit, I always derive a sort of morbid pleasure from the "big reveal".  Most people seem to ignore my eyes, assuming their contacts, or just focusing on my chest (I've gotten a few messages wherein, shortly after starting a conversation, someone would mention something about my boobs).  So I would bring up my vision whenever I felt the time was right/an opportunity presented itself.  Though there were a few times where I got a blunt "what's up with your eyes", or, more cautious, "so are those contact lenses".  Then they might ask "so how (the fuck) are you texting me?"-give or take the expletive.  Or they'd ignore or gloss over it.  and I would sometimes have to bring it up in later conversation because of the latter reasons.

But this experience was different.  After telling the guy my fun fact, he said:

Oh damn.  Followed shortly by: Um, I'm sorry I wasn't prepared for that.  I don't think I do that.  My dog is blind and I'm struggling with him.   I don't think I can do a relationship with a blind person.

As I retype his words for your reading pleasure, something stands out to me now that I didn't notice before.  "I don't think I do that"? What does that even mean? It's as though I asked him to do jumping jacks on a tight rope.

In the moment, however, I was too focused on the second half of his message which prompted the following response:

LOL, well, I'd like to put it out there that there is a difference between a blind person and pet but, I get it I suppose.

My "lol" came from shocked amusement, further explained in the rest of my message.  So, your pet is blind, and, because of this, you don't feel you can date a blind human? But on the same token, I guess he doesn't know how independent or dependent blind people are/can be.  His next message: I hope you understand my perspective sorry I just couldn't imagine a life with you, had me shuddering.

Whoa.  First of all, who was talking about a life? I cringed a little mentally but didn't voice my feelings.  And our conversation continued for a few more messages, with me telling him that it was fine. And that  I guessed it was a curveball for both of us; for him, it was learning I was blind and for me, well...  I guess learning that he wasn't okay with it.

One of my favorite blind YouTubers, Molly Burke, made a video about a Tinder experience wherein a guy was uncomfortable with the thought of dating a blind person.  And watching it, I could imagine someone feeling that way, just going off of people's reactions to me in the streets.  Sometimes they can't seem to fathom how I even exist without collapsing in terror at traveling the big city with very little vision.  But it was a little surprising to experience it for myself.  And as I told him, I thought it was so silly.  Maybe I'm a little biased but it seems crazy for someone to just decide this type of person is off limits.  But with that said, everyone has their preferences, right? I like tall guys. Or is it different? Because blind people come in all colors, shapes and sizes. So is it preconceived biases then, that get in the way?

The next thought I had, that I didn't share with him was that this was great material for the blog.  Especially since I haven't written in a while (sorry about that, by the way).

The guy also told me, a few hours after I didn't respond to his last message: also your eyes have that stereotypical blind appearance.

So is the problem my lack of vision and its accompanying misconceptions? Or is it the appearance of my eyes and possibly what others might think? Should I have asked those things instead of saying what I did next?

They do. But that's actually a very rare… look, for lack of a better term. My eyes are that way from lack of pigment and corneal scarring as a baby

And after some thought, I added: I think I've only ever encountered one other person whose eyes were like mine. And what was also interesting was that he was fully blind where I have some vision in one eye.

His last message was Ok, that's interesting.

Belatedly, I realize that I should probably have asked as many questions about his perception of a blind person as I could.  Perhaps I could have dissuaded him or at least gotten him to acknowledge that you can't write off an entire group of people…  because of your dog.  But maybe, despite my cool reaction, I was a little shocked.

We'd exchanged only a handful of messages so I had no emotional investment in this.  (My friends might tell you that I might not have been emotionally invested even after weeks of messaging, but let's not talk about that.) But it was still shocking, for lack of an equally fitting term.

Maybe I could have introduced it better? But I don't see my vision as a big deal.  I realize that some people do but I've come to learn that if I don't approach it as this, big thing (because it isn't), then people won't, usually, treat it like it is.  Sometimes they might still be uncomfortable, but ask questions.  And sometimes they just ignore it.  However they choose to handle it, I think it matters most how I feel and approach it.  And the "fun fact" thing is how I've approached it in the past.

But, enough of me, I should be studying for finals anyway. So what do you all think?

I Don't Regret Being Blind

I rarely lament being visually impaired. Even lately, with my vision worsening, it's not something I do. Sometimes, I think wistfully, things would be easier if I could just skim documents like a sighted can, or if I could just read and write (in print) the answers to my own work instead of having to find a notetaker for certain circumstances. But everyone wishes for things they either can't have or can't do. So why should it be any different for me?

I can't skim a document because in braille, it's hard, I'd even say impossible, to just let one's fingers glide over the words waiting for something to pop out at you. You actually have to pay attention to the words. And it's not as though you can visually scan for bolded or highlighted text. But, sometimes, if your using a device like the BrailleNnote—essentially, a braille computer—then you can use the search string or text finder to search for words that you feel are important. Or find, sometimes more quickly than the sighted person scanning, the passage that your professor is reading. So an easy work-around.

In my lab class, all of the labs are paper-based and the PDF'S that the class has to print out are inaccessible with my screenreader—a software that reads most, if not all, of the visual content found on a computer screen (I use voiceover, Apple's screen reader). So I need a notetaker for this class to both read the labs to me and then write my answers. It's a little annoying, because sometimes this causes me to fall behind a little depending on how long it takes to find someone, but again, fairly easy to fix.

This post was prompted by someone on the train today, asking if I wished I could see "normally".

"Well," I told them. "The way I see is normal to me."

"You know what I mean," she sounded flustered. "See like… with both eyes."

Sometimes, sure. I realize how convenient life would be. Instead of needing a note taker for my Weather and Climate class, I would be able to see the images my professor points to and have no trouble getting all of the notes. But I can't.

I didn't say this to the woman. What I did say was:

"Sometimes. But I'm happy with the way things are."

"Well God bless you," she said. "This is my stop but I'll keep you in my prayers. I'll pray for you to get your sight back."

"Have a good day." I told her. What I really wanted to say was: "Thanks. But I never had twenty/twenty so that prayer is kind of pointless."

But I choose my battles. And I realize that for most, if not all of the people who say things similar to what that woman said, it's not coming from a place of cruelty.

It can be frustrating though. People constantly praying to change me, or not understanding how I could be happy as… well… myself.

I'm blind, visually impaired, whatever. And I'm cool with it. Why shouldn't I be? I can't change things. Not easily anyway.

Just because being blind and happy is unfathomable to you, doesn't mean it's impossible.

***

So, on January 25, Mending Misconceptions turned 2. I would have written a celebratory post like I did last year, but I was lounging around my godmother's house in Atlanta that week, and not thinking about blogging. I have no excuses for the other two weeks of radio silence. I had so many plans for my winter break; all involving artistic hobbies that I either had to put on hold last semester (it got really intense) or things that I've always thought about but never seriously worked on. … I did non of that. I worked, read, ate and slept. And it was glorious.

Well, I hope you all have a wonderful week. My next post on braille reading speeds should be up by Saturday. And in the meantime, don't be shy, check out my latest vlog upload.

till next time

довиђења ( (Goodbye in Serbian/Montenegrin)

I Hate Finals

Hey all,

 Just wanted to let you all know that, though I have two posts in progress, I'm not allowing myself to finish them until finals week has ended. I have two research papers and six short essays to write... yay.

  I'm proud of  myself for actually sitting down and writing this. When I'd disappear for months, I would always mentally compose posts explaining my absence, but never actually write them. So see? I've grown. (Writing this post is also giving me a few extra minutes of procrastination time... so maybe not too much growth.)

  Well, I hope everyone's weekend is better than mine.

And, for those of you in New York, what do you think of the dramatic weather shift?

#WintersComing

Mending Misconceptions #3: Do Blind People have/use EchoLocation?

Last week, I was hanging out with one of my friends, ostensibly doing homework. But every now and then I’d check on his progress, and he’d have gotten distracted by social media. So I’d jokingly reprimand him. So,there was one point when I asked, and he told me yes, he was working to which I responded “no you’re not.”

“How do you know that?” He asked, not even trying to deny it.

“Your head is ducked and your looking at your phone right now.”

“That’s exactly what I’m doing!” He seemed shocked and but fascinated. “How did you know that?”

“Well,” I told him. “Your voice was lower, so I figured you were either looking away from me or down. But your voice was also a little muffled as a result of having the phone in front of your face.”

“Oh my God, you have like, echolocation (or maybe he said sonar)”

…I’m pretty sure he was joking—at least we laughed about it afterward—but it’s what prompted me to write this post.

***

According to Wikipedia—an undoubtedly trustworthy source—there are two types of echolocation: animal and human. For the purposes of this post, I'm only going to include the definition of human echolocation, but there's a link to the animal one, in case you want to compare.

—Note: I feel it's wrong to differentiate animal from human, it perpetuates the mistaken idea that humans are not animals. We are.,  

• Human echolocation is the ability of humans to detect objects in their environment by sensing echoes from those objects, by actively creating sounds – for example, by tapping their canes, lightly stomping their foot, snapping their fingers, or making clicking noises with their mouths – people trained to orient by echolocation can interpret the sound waves reflected by nearby objects, accurately identifying their location and size. This ability is used by some blind people for acoustic wayfinding, or navigating within their environment using auditory rather than visual cues. It is similar in principle to active sonar and to animal echolocation, which is employed by bats,, dolphins and toothed whales to find prey.

***

I do not use echolocation. And I do not know of anybody who does. For me, personally, I can see. And though my vision has worsened this year, I still have enough to get around some (certainly not all) objects. But thinking about my fully blind friends, none of them echolocat either. Now, there are instances wherein I (or a blind person) is in an open area, like a parking lot, and because of how your cane or voice echoes, you can tell. But it isn't echolocation as described above. It's just going off of experience and sounds/information that anyone might gather.

Sighted readers, think about it. You expect sound to echo more in an abandoned lot. Or the wind to sound/feel differently.

But I don't want you to go away feeling like an a-hole for asking your blind friend if they have sonar.. There's this  famous man, Daniel Kish,  who taught himself how to  navigate using tongue clicks. He claims that it was because his parents raised him like a sighted child, i.e.,,, not imposing on him their ideas of blind appropriate activities. I believe he uses a cane sometimes, but he relies a great deal on his clicks.

So he started an organization where he would teach other people how to use their clicks. And honestly, it does seem like a pretty good system; he rides  bikes, climbs trees (well, I've done that without the aid of echolocation),  and other activities that are typically viewed as, if not impossible, than nearly so, for blind people to perform. But people in the US aren't very receptive to his method. And I'm pretty sure it's for the same reason I hesitate, it's "weird".

It would add to so many blind stereotypes; people already think there's a couple thousand (or more) Dare Devils strolling around. That’s sounds very self-conscious doesn’t it? And you might say that if it helps, why not do it? To that question I ask how would you feel in my place? Imagine yourself walking down a city street clicking. It’s not supposed to be very loud but, now imagine yourself as an observer. You would steer clear of that undoubtedly crazy person. Or if any of you have taken voice lessons. Some vocal exercises are so silly that, even with your instructor you initially feel hesitant repeating them. Or you don’t do it with confidence. Not until your comfortable, anyway.

So now you might say that I, or the other stubborn Americans just need to try it out and, like those silly vocal exercises, we’ll get used to it. But let’s be real here.I’m not overly self-conscious yet I don’t necessarily have a “F the world” attitude. And it pains me to think about clicking down the street. All the things people would say. If they just stared, well, who cares, I can’t see ‘em anyway. But others can be very vocal with their opinions… Just imagine.

But maybe the reason people are resistant isn’t because of public opinion. Maybe it’s because there's already a system that I, and others feel work for us. In the article I linked above, Kish seems to believe that most blind people have the "it if ain't broke, don't fix it mentality", and while that may be the case for some. Others may genuinely like their techniques. Or maybe we’re such creatures of habit that to go so completely out of our comfort zones is terrifying. Relying, and trying to learn a new technique.

I've said that I think this method is cool. And I don't think I would be opposed to trying to learn it (preferably with not a lot of people around, at least initially), but I have a few issues with some of the arguments he's made.

Kish feels that his method will lessen blind people's dependence for sighted aid. I can agree with that. He also seems to feel that blind people are trained to expect assistance. And that is where I disagree. He talks about his free childhood that lead him to develop. his echolocation skills.

My family treated me like a “normal’ child (you can find evidence of this in the scar above my left eye from a game of tag when I was 8); I also used to ride my bike. And I climbed trees too. Okay, it was two trees in fourth grade but still.

The echolocation technique may have come in handy during that game of tag (I got distracted by the sun) but I wasn't really coddled, or I don't feel I was when it came to playing and just being a kid. Of course I know some people whose parents are super strict and don't seem to realize that blind isn't the end of the world. But some parents grow out of that; it’s what mobility instructors, vision teachers, and any other type of instructor are there for.

I'm aware that there are some places wherein this is not the case. That there a mobility teachers who don't teach effective travel skills. And people who aren't assigned vision teachers, and so have no real support system in school; no one to make sure they have the proper materials in the appropriate format. And that sucks. And we certainly have a long way to go in terms of widespread support and awarenesss, but I feel, in the US anyway, things aren't so bad.

But maybe I'm wrong. I try to be unbiased, and not filter the world through a NYC lens. Because this is a pretty awesome city. And even we have our problems. I’ve even been screwed over by “the system”…

I’m fully aware that I could also just be being overly sensitive.

Ah well.

You

In short, there are blind people who echolocation. But it’s not an inborn skill. It has to be taught. And it involves, in the case of Daniel Kish, tongue clicks. But I do know of people (well, I’ve been told stories by teachers) about people who sometimes tap their canes to get a feel for how much is around them. It has something to do with how the sound echoes.

But I also know people who are fully blind and just naturally have amazing spacial awareness. I suppose it’s akin to some sighted people being natural athletes and others who can barely keep their balance.

Before I go, I want to share a few links with you all. First, 

this is the piece I wrote for blindnewworld.org. They have a section on their site called #MyBlindStory and both blind and sighted people are welcome to contribute. Well, the latter only if they have had interactions with a blind or visually impaired person.

After you finish my piece, I encourage you to look around the site. Their mission is creating a new world for sighted and blind people by making the former more comfortable with the latter, and helping the latter have their voices heard. Or at least, that’s my interpretation.

The next link is to a podcast episode featuring Daniel Kish  (first shown to me by my sister).

Note:Kish is not the first story.

And finally here's a link to the most recently mended  Misconception.

So, what do you all think of this human echolocation?