A beginner’s Guide to Interacting with the Blind.
Hello, my friends.
Welcome back to my dark pages.
I’ve recently decided to dive headfirst into the dicey
practice of cultural appropriation. No,
no…calm down. I have not taken up
Tibetan throat singing, given myself ridiculous white girl dreadlocks* or dyed
my entire smurf blue. What I’ve been
doing is immersing myself in the world of the blind. How have I been doing that? I’m so glad you asked. I’ve become a creeper on the interwebs. Yes,
people. I have become a creepy internet
lurker…
Dun-dun-DUN!
I belong to several groups of Facebook (most notably one
called Nerds with Vaginas) but also a few other groups that are blind
specific. I have two favorites. One is called BlindPenPals, which is a wonderful,
well organized group where blind people all over the world can meet and the
other is Parents of Blind and VI Children – where parents, like myself, support
each other. They are both wonderful
groups and I’m grateful for both their existence and to be a part of them. My inclusion in the blind community is
relatively recent and I’ve found it to be an experience that’s moved me to
words.
What specifically motivated me to write for you today is a
theme I see spread far and wide across all my blind based social media: There
are a lot of times that blind people feel left out and lonely. Obviously, blindness is a disorder that keeps
people in the dark. Unfortunately that
statement cannot be taken only literally and the figurative darkness that blind
people experience is often not their fault.
It’s on you. Back before my heart
was stolen by a tiny, blind guy, it was on me too.
I used to be kind of a jerk to disabled people. Not with deliberate actions of course, but
with uneducated indifference which can be just as bad (if not worse).
I have a very clear memory from childhood. I was about 6 or 7 and my mother and I were
in a grocery store. A woman walked past
us wearing leg braces and those metal crutches that fit around the upper
arm. I was staring at her and my mother
nudged me and hissed, ‘Don’t be rude’ out of the corner of her mouth. Once the woman was passed, she explained that
that woman was born with birth defects that didn’t allow her legs to grow
properly. She mused about how hard it
must for that ‘poor thing’ and reminded me to count my blessings. I attribute much of my compassionate nature
to my mother’s influence but after my own son was born with birth defects, I
realized in this particular case her teachings were wrong.
She called that woman a ‘poor thing’ when she could have called her strong. Instead of
simply telling me to count my lucky stars she could have asked me to imagine my
life if I was the one with faulty legs.
Instead of telling me to look away she had a chance to encourage me to
smile at that woman with a smile of her own.
Years went by and my intimate life was devoid of people with
physical disabilities. It was ripe with
people with mental disorders… but those are stories for a different blog. In social situations, when I saw a disabled
person, I’d stick to the script I was taught as a child: look away, thank God
it isn’t me. I’d feel very uncomfortable
and nervous around the disabled. I never
knew how to act or what to say - terrified of unwittingly saying something
offensive…so I’d just avoid interaction as much as possible.
Obviously, that has changed for me by now, but I remember
how I used to feel and I’m not about to pretend that I’ve always been the
advocate for inclusion and acceptance that I am today. I’m going to use my intimate knowledge of
being on both sides of the disability divide and I’m going to try and build a
bridge of understanding. I’m going to
focus on the bridge between the blind and seeing people; who will hereafter be
referred to as ‘the Sightocentric’.
****
The first thing to remember is that every blind person is
well…a person. At first you’ll get lost
in blindness. This is to be expected,
and it’s ok. Blind people are a little
different, I get that. They get that,
too. The most important thing to remember
is that blindness is one aspect of who they are, it does not define them. Behind every pair of dark glasses, white cane
or guide dog there is an actual human being with feelings as real as your
own. And, just like all of the other
people in your life, blind people come in various colors, religions,
ethnicities, degrees of education and levels of douchebaggery. Some are funny, some are sad. They can be
mad, or glad or bad.
As a sightocentric person it might be awkward to you at
first - having interactions with someone who tends look above your head, over
your shoulder or at your left breast as you speak to them. Humans have come to value eye contact as a way
of connecting with one another. We’ve come read each other by looking at each
other, judge people’s honesty by their ability to hold a steady gaze and
realize when people are joking by a certain twinkle in their eye. Good luck doing any of that with my son. He eyes are made of plastic and I didn’t
spring for the swanky embedded Swarovski crystal lenses that throw off rainbow
prisms in the light.**
However, under those plastic lenses is the smartest little
boy I know. He’s sweet and stubborn and
funny as hell. He speaks four languages
remembers any video game cheat code he’s ever learned out of his head and plays
the piano by ear. You can’t tell he’s
joking by the glint in his eye, but you can hear it in his voice if you know
him well. But if you ever want to get to
know him well, you’ll have to get past the fact that he’s blind.
I’m going to help you do that in 4 easy steps. Just send 20 dollars (US) to my paypal
account and I’ll send you my revolutionary new e-book:
A Beginners Guide to
Interacting with the Blind.
I kid, I kid…here we go.
Step 1 –Respect the stick/ Don’t spoil the dog
If you see a blind person with a service dog there is just
one thing you need to remember: That is not your dog. Say it again, not your dog!
One of my friends gets irate because a man in her building
sneaks treats to her service dog, Trixie.
When my friend confronted him about it, he denied giving the dog a treat
but my friend could smell Milkbone dog biscuits on Trixie’s breath. Here you have a man sneaking treats to a
service dog and then lying about it when he should have simply remembered: That
is not my dog. Guide dogs have trained extensively to be Thomas the Train
level useful but that training can be easily undone. You don't need to stress yourself with the training process just remember these simple words: not your dog.
Also, there is a difference between a guide dog and a companion dog. A dear friend of mine was brutally attacked by a man once a while ago. She's fine now, thanks for asking, but emotional scars can run deep. She has a little pocketbook poodle who had the attitude of a Pitt Bull when it comes to defending her mistress. She has permission to take her dog into all sorts of places dogs don't usually go, like a guide dog, but that where the similarities end. Magnolia (the Pitt Poodle) has received no special training, and does not behave with the decorum of a guide dog so my friend knows better than to ever expose an actual guide dog to her hyperactive ankle biter. Make a note of that, should it ever apply.
White sticks have been the primary mode of ambulatory
independence blind people have enjoyed since it came into vogue in France in
1931. If you ever see a person crossing
the street with a white stick held horizontally in front of them while you’re driving
your car, you must stop. That is a universal law, that no one ever seems to
know – but I’m telling you now. Make a
note of it. Many blind people come to
think of their sticks as extensions of themselves. They depend on them. Don’t move them without permission and definitely don’t
pick them up and have a pretend sword fight. If you happen to be lucky enough to befriend
a blind person you may get the opportunity to fold a white stick up if you ask
nicely. It’s surprisingly fun. Put it on
your bucket list.
White sticks are very useful but imperfect. They miss tree branches, low hanging street
signs and excitable Poodles. If you ever
see a blind person walking with a cane headed for one of the aforementioned
hazards; give them a little heads up.
Just yell, “Hey! Mr. Blind Guy! There is a low hanging branch with a
street sign on it that says ‘Beware of Pitt Poodles’ in front of you. You should move to your left! Have a nice day!’
I’m being flippant, of course but if you’re ever in a situation
where you see a blind person headed for trouble definitely try to warn
them. That being said, we’ve arrived at…
Step 2 – Don’t ever assume a blind person needs your help.
Imagine yourself in your house, late at night. There’s only the faintest ambient light in
the background, you can’t really see but you know the way to the kitchen by
heart. Suddenly, with no warning,
someone grabs you by the arm and asks you if you need help. How do you react?
Blind people are a lot more independent than most people
give them credit for being. If you see a
blind person rolling solo, out for a stroll in the park or on the street; the
absolute worst thing you can ever do is go up to them and grab them. Can you imagine that? You’re walking along, enjoying the breeze and
then suddenly someone you don’t know - that you never saw coming, has their
hands of you. As you’re reading these
words it may seem obvious, but you’d be amazed at how many blind people are
being randomly accosted and frightened by Good Samaritan wannabes every day.
It comes from a good place, I know it does but it’s not
necessary. If you see a blind person on
the street chances are good that they know exactly what they are doing, where
they’re going and don’t need help.
Chances are equally good that if a blind person does get confused, they
will stop and ask for help. The
following is an example of how that situation might go down:
Blind Person on the street to no one in particular: Excuse me? I seem to be lost. Can anyone help me get my bearings?
You (without making physical contact): Hi! Can I help you?
Blind person: Yes, please.
I’m trying to get to 5th Avenue. Which way do I go?
You (without pointing): You need to continue walking down
this street for two blocks and then make a left. That’s 5th Ave.
Blind Person: Thank you!
You: Do you need help getting there?
Blind Person: I’m ok now, but if you’re walking that way we
can walk together.
You: I’d love
that. Hey, will you be my new blind BFF
and let me fold up your stick one day?
Blind Person:
Ummm….no. You just kinda creeped
me out and I have to go now. Thanks for
the help. Have a nice day.
You: Wow. I never knew blind people could run so
fast. Oh, good. He turned left onto 5th.
It is very difficult to be blind. I can say that with more authority than most
sightocentrics can muster because I watch my son struggle to do things that
come so easily to other people. The
struggle is real, but don’t think for one second that ‘disabled’ means the same
thing as ‘unable’. Helping people is a
wonderful thing, when it’s needed.
I’ll be leaving off here for now, but please stay tuned for
the exciting conclusion to this post which I will finish writing as soon as you
all send your 20 dollars or when I wrap up another project I’m working on, whichever
comes first.
Keep it classy, People.
*Ok, there was one time in the mid 90’s that I had ridiculous
white girl dreadlocks, but in my defense: Alanis Morrisette
** As far as I know Swarovski crystal prosthetic lenses do
not exist but if they did I would totally spring for them in a heartbeat.
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