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.

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)

Seriously, Ask The Blind Person... It's Okay

            On Saturday, I was going to hang out with some friends after music school.  But I'd arrived at our meeting point earlier than the other two (it took them an HOUR to get there), so I was just hanging around at the station.

            I stood, leaning coolly against the side of the staircase, with my cane tucked beneath my left arm and my phone in my right hand.  I was also staring, listlessly, at the yellow warning strip through my lashes (I was really excited when I figured out what that phrase meant).

            I was approaching the half hour mark when a woman came up to me.

            "Um, excuse me?"

            I look around.  The three trains that come to that stop had all recently come and gone so there were very few people at the station.

            "Yeah?" I asked, a little hesitant in case she wasn't speaking to me.

            "Yeah, um..." I stopped squinting and turned more fully toward her.  "Oh! I—I'm sorry."

            "It's fine," I say, though what I should have said was "for what".  "What was your question?"

            "Oh." She says.  "I, um, was just, um, wondering how I get to the to Flatbush." Involuntarily, I raise my eyebrows a little.  As I'm getting ready to tell her I'm not sure how to get there from the station, she clarifies.  "The um Flatbush train."

            "The 2 train," I ask.  "The Flatbush Avenuebound two?"

            "Yes!"  she says.

            "Oh," I say, turning slightly and gesturing down the stairs.  "Just go down, around, then back up."

            "Oh okay." I hear that hint of surprise and trepidation that colors her tone as heads down the stairs.  "Thanks."

            "Sure."

            While I realize that this is similar to my other post, wherein I discuss the benefits of asking a blind or visually impaired person for assistance, in that story, I had no idea how to direct the girl, and this time I did.

            We really are good people to ask for direction.  More oft than not, we make it a point of knowing exact locations, or we at least have landmarks to look out for (after you pass the garbage, you're at the right room).  Sometimes I don't know exactly how many buildings from the corner my destination is, but once I know how to get to the right block, I have no qualms asking questions (or using the map on my phone).  But I can at least point people in the right direction.

            Now, I know some Sighteds who give great directions.  They're really attentive to/aware of their surroundings, they can even give exact direction when exiting train stations (all of that was about my sister, by the way).  But I also know people who can't even get out whether or not to go right or left while they're watching you do it (that's for my other sister, love you!).

            But don't be afraid to ask.  Or, if the blind person offers information, don't ignore it.

            There was another time, a few months ago, as I was waiting to cross a street, I heard a group of women arguing behind me.

            "I'm pretty sure it's that way," one said.

            "Avenue of the Americas? No, I think it might be this way."

            "You're looking for Sixth Avenue?" I ask, turning slightly toward them.

            "No," one of them said, in a slightly condescending tone.  "We're looking for Avenue of the Americas."

            "Yeah, Sixth Avenue," I said, I have sort of elitist tendencies (sometimes) so I matched her tone quite nicely as I pointed them in the right direction.

            "Oh, well, thank you," one of the other said as they headed where I pointed.

            For any of my readers not in New York City, I think it is officially called Avenue of the Americas, but (usually) only tourists call it that.  We generally just say Sixth Avenue.

            So, in an instance like that, if they'd asked me for a specific address, I couldn't have helped, but I got them going in the right direction.

Blind (and visually impaired) folk, we're people too.

I plan for my next post to be the mending of one of many misconceptions about us blind folk. But that may be subject to change if anything particularly noteworthy happens to me. Or you’ll just two posts.

Well, till next time

Mata ne
(Japanese for goodbye/see you)

You Know What Really Grinds My Gears?:

            When I'm walking somewhere and it looks like I might need some help and, instead of offering me said help people just say things like:

"You know, it's a fucking shame, nobody's gonna help her.", "Look at her, I feel so bad for people like that.  Someone should really do something, I think she's going to walk into that pole (or whatever object)", etc.

            For the former comment why don't you offer me the help since its such a shame? And the same goes for the latter.  But it's as though they think I can't/don't hear them.

            I also hate—as you've probably come to realize in some of my past anecdotes—when people just grab me because they think I need help.  (Please note that think is the operative word.) So it might go something like this:

            I'm walking on a train platform and I, know, that while the part of the platform that I'm currently on is spacious, soon it's going to get narrow; that there's going to be stairs, escalators, and only a small gap between them and the yellow warning strip.  So I might start moving slowly, sweeping my cane in an extrawide arc, or—I walk quickly—so I may continue moving at my pace but extend my cane farther from my body.  So, rather than using it to sweep from side to side in front of my body, I would keep that motion up, but I would be more focused on making sure I don't go down the up escalator (that's happened...  many times) or just onto the stairs when my goal is the exit, which is straight ahead.

            So I'm walking and I begin approaching the escalator.  Now, I'm not positive that I'm heading that way, I think I see the silver (whatever material that is) that indicates the beginning  of the escalator but I'm not sure (I second-guess my vision a lot).  But before my cane can touch it to let me know, there's a swarm of people, usually speaking loudly:

            "That's the escalator! You don't want to go down the escalator do you? Miss, that's the down escalator, you're not going there."

            Or my arm will be grabbed.

            "Where you headed, Miss? That's the escalator you're coming up to." (You can also insert stairs wherever you see escalator.)

            Of course, having this information is important to me, especially since the escalator is not where I intend to go.  But, you know what? If my cane does go down a step or I feel the ridges of the escalator beneath my shoes, or my cane begins to move because it's on the first step of the escalator, all I have to do is turn to the right and keep walking straight.

            I completely understand that the people want to be helpful.  And I also get that not everyone knows how to go about it.  But imagine a day in which, at nearly every moment that you're outside, at least one person is trying to be helpful.  It gets frustrating.

            Now, I rarely ever snap at the helping hands.  I'm usually pleasant and polite.  But if I say I don't need help, I will also remain firm about it.  Some people act affronted, like I kicked their puppy (which, I'm sorry to say, I've almost done a few times) but honestly, how can you insist someone needs help when they say they don't? Or tell them that they should sit on the bus/train because it would make you feel better? That can come off as a little selfish.  You want me (a stranger to you) to do something for you (a stranger to me) because it would make you feel better? To borrow a term from my contemporaries: FOH.

            There are also other instances wherein I tell the person I don't need help, they say okay, but go ahead with it anyway.  For example:

            I'm about to cross the street.  But I'm a little unsure of the traffic so, though I'm 60% sure that I can cross, I decide to wait, in case that 40% ends up being right.  An old man comes up to me, asking if I need assistance crossing.

 

            "No, thank you," I say.

            "Are you sure?"

            "Yeah, thank you.  Or, you know what, if you could just tell me when I can cross?"

            "Sure."

            We wait in silence.  (Ugh, although sometimes they start talking to me; telling me about problems at work/with some friend or, and this is my favorite, when they tell me about their best friend's husband's mother who is also blind.  Yes, I know it sounds insensitive, especially from an aspiring therapist, but, I'm usually trying to get somewhere so I truly do not care.  When I'm a therapist, there will be time dedicated just for my patience...  but now? Although I will say, some people do have interesting lives, and those stories I don't mind listening to (provided its told to me in a timely manner).  Ugh, but if you smell and won't go away...  sorry, I digress.)

            "You can cross now," my elderly companion informs me.

            "Thank you." I reply and begin to cross.

            "You know, I'm actually crossing this way," my companion would then say.  "I'll just help you anyway." And then he would proceed to take my arm and we would cross.

            At that point, I don't even try.  I'm just like, "well, we're crossing, it's almost over, whatever." Then I halfheartedly thank him upon reaching the other side.

            There have been other times when the person would just let me go saying, with a laugh, "Boy, you walk fast." or "You're much faster than me." or something to that effect.

            I have friends who get really angry about it, they'll argue and make a scene.  But I feel that you have to pick you're battles.  And again, as stated above, I do get it, you want to be helpful.  But also think about your approach.  Think of how you may come off.  Think about the difference between grabbing and being forceful, and a touch on the arm (to let the blind person know you're talking to them) and a calm word.

            Sometimes I decline help because of the approach.  And I'll hope for or try to find someone else that seems less...  volatile (for lack of a better word).

            I'm compiling a list of other things that bother me.  And I'm also trying to find a different title for the future posts so that my stealing from Family Guy isn't quite so obvious.  But this seems attention grabbing enough.

       Also, I know I keep saying I'm back then I disappear again.  But, this disappearance was significantly shorter than the last (two or so weeks vs.  an entire semester).  I'm also taking a winter class and that's been pretty...  intense.  But I've scheduled some posts to post at points this week.  And I think I might try for only one post a week, on Saturdays, because well, one is less daunting than three.  And then if I throw in any more, it'll be a pleasant surprise to you all.

540 page views...  pretty damn awesome.  Now if you guys would just start throwing in a few comments on my posts...  that'd be even better.

Oh, and don't forget to check out my vlog.

Till next time

I can't think of a clever title… But this post is a symbol of my return to you all

So, I'm on my way to visit my high school and I decide to take a route that I am only familiar with in theory: 6 train to Canal and then get the Q.

So I get off of the six train, and am looking for someone to ask where the downtown Q is.

I find a dude, who directs me to the stairs and then tells me in which direction to go afterward.

Awesome.

Then, as I'm walking down the stairs, I check with some lady to make sure he steered me in the right direction. And the lady assures me that I'm going  the right way.

 So I'm thinking "yay, this is going really well. Absolutely swimmingly." Then I chuckle at myself mentally because I'm such a loser (In the best waypossible).😃

So now I'm on the platform and I arbitrarily decide to go left.
"Keep to the left." Someone cautions a few seconds later, probably thinking that I'm too close to the warning strip. (People and I generally have differing opinions on how close is too close.)

I disregard them and continue walking the way I'm walking until I reach the end of the platform. Then I stop, and turn right to face the track. I'm either al the wayin the front or all the way in the back. I probably should have gone to the right so that I could be in the middle. But that's too much work to walk back in the other direction.

What train  you waiting for?" A tiny Haitian woman asks me (her accent is thick). I can see that she's wearing a white coat.

"The Q," I say, worriedly wondering if both people had Ben wrong.

  "Oh," she says, grabbing my fingers. Her hands are small and thick, where mine are bigger and slender. Her hand can only enclose, at most three fingers and just barely touches my palm. "Hold me, hold me."

  So I take her arm instead, and we start walking. As we walk, a Queensbound train arrives across the platform. So, mentally, I'm like, I'm pretty sure this is the right side.

Then we pass the staircase I took, and I think I'm getting an inkling of what's going  on.

  We stop not to long later and she turns us to face the train.
  "Good. Here's a good place to wait."

  This lady seriously move me to a different part of the platform… Where she thought it was a good place to wait. What if I needed to be that far in the front?

 Then, once the train arrived she tugged on me until I followed her to a seat. I then put my earphones in, and started listening to music. I know the stops, but I also had my music at a volume but I could hear the train in case of any announcements. Two stops or so away from my stop, the lady shakes my shoulder and asks, and what I felt was a fairly aggressive tone:

  "You listening to the stops?"

I'm fairly certain she didn't mean it aggressively, but her tone… And
I was still stunned at her moving me to a different part of the platform though...

Well, until next time (i.e. later today.)

I'm back

I am most probably the most dreadfully horrifyingly appalling person ever.

I know I have neglected you all for so long.  And I am--while not eternally--still quite sorry.

 I am also quite excited though. I now have 429 page views. About 39 more than I had at the time of my last post. I even had 3 views yesterday.

I have a few half finished posts for you guys. I’m going to finish those and upload them ASAP.

In the meantime, you should watch ,this video it’s a vlog episode my friends and I made wherein we are…emphatically discussing some of our experiences: the way people act around us, etc.

Also, don’t feel bad, I neglected the vlog, too.

Though, in my defence, I was in my first semester. And I participated in NaNoWriMo (National Novel  Writing Month) which at least explains what occupied my November.

                Okay, I’m going to stop wasting time apologizing and advertising my other projects, and go get those posts done.

Although, if you’re interested and have a Wattpad account, or are willing to invest in one (they’re freeeee) then you can read what I worked on during NaNo here.

Lily M

Don't Shout At Someone Standing On The Edge... Everyone Knows That... Right?

This morning, I got off of the 3 train and crossed the platform to wait for the 4.  I thought I saw the train there so I walked all of the way to it; my cane extended with the intent of hitting the it.  Once my cane made contact, I would trail (drag) it along the side of the train until it found the door, or I saw it.  The only problem was that the train was leaving.

            I felt it rolling along my cane (it was too noisy for me to hear), and once I got a little closer, I saw what my cane had already told me.  I pulled back, and just stared at the side of the train with a forlorn expression.

            A woman shouted something.  But I missed it.  I wasn't even sure she was talking to me

            "Come this way!" a man's voice.

            I turn around, my cane resting in the crook of my right arm, and the left hand half raised.

            "What?"

            "Come this way? You're standing too close."

            "I'm fine, thank you."

            "No..."

            I never heard the rest of what he said.

            My rationale for walking away was, that, well, I was in the back of the train, and I needed to be in the middle.

* * *

            Initially, I had been standing on the yellow warning strip (as I watched the train pull away).  But as soon as I realized that it was leaving, I stepped back a little.

            I have two train platform stances.  Which one I use, depends on how loud the station is:

If it's one of the smaller and, consequently, quieter stations I stand more in the center of the platform leaning against one of the poles.  But if it's a loud, crazy station (like Grand Central), I stand anywhere from the middle of the platform to just behind the yellow warning strip also resting against one of the poles/pillars (for support).

            This morning, though, I was not in my customary, "slouched against pillar" position.  I was standing out in the open.

            Though I'm pretty sure the guy was shouting at me because of how close I was to the line.  At least I wasn't on it! What about those people who LEAN OUT OVER THE TRACK? (That drives me insane)

            And did he really have to shout? If I was someone who startled easily, I could have taken an involuntary step forward (maybe two involuntary steps, depends on how long my stride was at that moment).  If he'd touched my arm, maybe that would have been better.  But I suppose that could still startle a person.

            I dunno.  I guess there's no real train etiquette, but there should be.  At least try to think of a more soothing way to approach someone standing at the edge.

            Maybe a blog on train etiquette will be what rounds out my weekly three posts.  Till then, you should read another of my posts about another train incident.