“How to care for Someone with Blind Disability”: The Ignorance Lives on

Edit: The article has been re-written to eliminate harmful rhetoric about blind people. The quoted portions below are no longer part of the updated article. If you are interested in reading the new, much more accurate article, it can be found at the same link as the old one.

 

Often I have said that there is one true barrier between blind people and success: Ignorance. Many blind people or others with disabilities have encountered such ignorance on multiple occasions while performing normal, everyday tasks. However, such ignorance can be excused if someone does not have experience with a blind person or is not informed on the capabilities of blind people. Professionals in the medical field, (or those who claim to be), however, should know better.
Yesterday, I came across an article that made me feel I had stepped into a time machine, and not in a good way. The article is written by a healthguidance.org contributor named Stan Tian. Mr. Tian strives with this article to inform sighted people how to “care” for people with “blind disability,” as if we are helpless souls who must rely on the mighty sighted to help us get around. Think I’m exaggerating? Well, then, take a look at how Mr. Tian introduces the concept of blindness:
“You will no doubt agree that blindness is a terrible condition and one that nobody deserves to live with. Unfortunately the reality is that many people do and it is highly likely that everyone will meet a blind person at some point in their lives. There are some things you can learn about the condition that can help any interaction you have with a blind person and ensure both you and they are comfortable together.”
First of all, blindness is not a “terrible condition.” More to the point, though, Mr. Tian is not qualified to decide whether blindness is or is not a terrible condition; only those who have experienced blindness can do so, and I do not know of any blind people who consider their blindness as terrible. According to this first paragraph, Mr. Tian’s aim appears to be to provide helpful information so that the blind and sighted can co-exist comfortably. Let’s investigate Mr. Tian’s helpful advice, shall we?
First, try to think about what it would be like if you were blind. “The sense that you rely most heavily on has been taken away,” Tian writes, “so you will be using your other senses far more heavily.” Mr. tian suggests that people should try to identify with a blind person but then incorporates sight-centric rhetoric to imply that we are missing the most reliable of our senses. Should we ask the blind person what his or her blindness experience is like in order to better understand blindness? No, we should strive to identify with blind people by pitying them because of their lack of sight.
Mr. Tian provided me with some stunning insight about the blind in this article. Apparently, “blind people will often surprise you by being able to tell how much you weigh simply by feeling you move through vibrations in the floor.” Wow! He’s right! When bob walks across the floor, I turn to my friends and say: “Did you guys know he weighs 218.27 pounds?” Because blind people are human scales, right? Wrong.
Not only are blind people insanely good at guessing people’s weight at those contests at the fair, but they also are adept at determining what a person looks like by feeling their entire body. According to Tian, “if they feel your head, shoulders, arms and hair don’t be alarmed; they are simply trying to determine what you look like and get a better idea of you.” Most blind people I am acquainted with do not care what someone looks like. And, if they do, they do not go around feeling people, as this behavior is socially awkward and unacceptable in civilized society. Movies, books, and other media may portray this behavior as characteristic of the blind, but such behavior, 9.9999 times out of 10, does not occur.
So, we know how a blind person gets information about what a person looks like. Now, Mr. tian teaches us how to help a blind person in and out of the car. The car saga begins with the sighted person instructing the blind person to hold onto their arm. This practice is an accepted guiding method for some blind people, especially in unfamiliar areas. Therefore, this is the sole valid point that Mr. Tian makes, in my opinion. Then, after guiding a blind person to the car, the sighted person must provide detailed information about “which way [the car] is facing and which door they will be getting into.” Also, you must take their hand and put it on the open car door so they are oriented. Also, don’t close the door until their seatbelt is on. Apparently, the author is under the impression that blind people do not possess the ability to spatially orient themselves to their surroundings without sighted assistance. Most newly-blind people or those who are just beginning training require nowhere near this amount of information, let alone your average blind person who has been travelling independently for years. My incredulity reached a new level, though, when I read Tian’s advice on how to help a blind person out of a car. “Offer your arm as support when they get out,” Tian suggests, and “put your hand in between their head and the door frame in case they are about to bump their head.” Generally, blind people do not need “support” when getting out of a car. If a person’s sole disability is blindness, they have no problem standing up independently. Because most blind people realize the roof of the car exists, they will no doubt avoid such a collision. In my twenty-two years of existence, I have never once hit my head on a car when getting out of it. My family and friends do not offer me support getting out of the car, because they know I will easily find the door handle, open the door, and disembark unharmed, as I have done countless times before.
Tian introduces the last paragraph by referring to his previous bits of advice as “common sense.” We may have a different definition of that term, because Tian seems to think it is also common sense to describe the blind person’s surroundings in detail at every opportunity. For example, “if you don’t tell them there are stalls selling goods in the corner then they’ll never know.” Mr. Tian is right. I cannot hear people talking about what is being sold, or the dinging of cash registers. If they are selling food, I certainly will not be able to smell it. All sarcasm aside, the possibility remains that I may not be observant that day. Either way, my quality of life is not affected.
To conclude, Mr. Tian gives an example of how you can help a blind person remember people they have just met. Mr. Tian writes: “They might meet someone who moves on to talk to someone else. The blind person knows nothing about them and cannot formulate a mental picture, so you could add ‘she has beautiful red hair you know; a very unusual color’ and they’ll immediately something to come back to.” Mr. Tian fails to realize that, if I, the blind person, had been talking to someone, I most likely learned something about him or her during our conversation. Therefore, when I think back on the situation, I will remember that person by his or her voice and the things he or she discussed with me. NO, Mr. Tian, I cannot formulate a mental picture of the person. But I don’t need to because doing so serves no purpose, as this is not how my mind works. Half the time I forget my friends’ eye and hair colors, so I’m not likely to remember this information about a random person I meet while shopping one day. That’s ok, though, because hair color can change, but personality and genuine friendship tend to last.
As I wrote this blog post, I thought that, maybe, I was wasting my time shedding light on Mr. Tian’s false assumptions. But even if one person reads what I have to say and is informed about the capabilities of the blind, we can move one more step toward abolishing these assumptions. Many blind people, myself included, have met someone in our lives who appears to share Stan Tian’s philosophy on blindness. His assumptions, though, are incorrect, and we need to ensure that blind people are viewed as independent, capable members of society, just like our sighted peers. If you agree with me, please leave a comment on Mr. Tian’s article so people can know the truth about blindness.

 

Disclaimer: I do not claim ownership of the quoted material from Stan Tian’s article. No copyright infringement is intended. This is not an attack on Mr. Tian but on the damaging, false assumptions this article expresses.

Boarding the Hogwarts Express

The scarlet steam engine pulled up to the platform with its signature whirring and clattering. I stood in a line with others bound for Hogwarts, waiting not-so-patiently for when it would be my turn to board the train. Camera flashes told me that my dad was taking pictures. But it’s not every day that I go to Hogwarts, so I let it pass without comment.

The train door slid open, and I was ushered along with my fellow passengers inside the locomotive. A compartment door slid open, and I took my seat. It was time. As I sat there, I began to think about how I’d gotten to this moment.

When I was nine years old, I told my best friend I would never read the Harry Potter series. Even though I knew almost nothing about it, I thought it was stupid. But it didn’t take me long to change my mind. And I’ll be forever greatful that I did.

It was a warm summer evening when I made the decision. I asked my mother quite a common question for the ten-year-old Jen: “Can we go to the library?”

On previous visits to this sanctuary, I’d emerged with cassette audio books about talking animals, invisible children, and fairies. But this time I sought a new type of novel, one about a lonely boy, his extraordinary talent, and his journey from oppression to triumph.

Ever since I popped the first cassette of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone into my tape player, I was hooked. The world Rowling depicted was so vivid, so real, that I never wanted to leave. Each time I did was either for a glass of water or another trip to the library to procure the next installment.

I read through book 5, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, in seven days. Then, I had to wait another year for the sixth installment to be released. And it was probably one of the most difficult things I’ve ever done.

I’ve never understood why some people condemn this wonderful series. Yes, it involves magic, but so also do many fairy tales. I love reading about how magic alters the dynamic between good and evil. With magic, there’s always a sense of wonder or danger, depending on the situation. Just like there are good and bad people, there are good and bad witches and wizards in Harry Potter’s world. And I love how Rowling presents a story of a young boy who has opportunities to choose, over and over, between good and evil. And he always, every time, chooses good.

Not only that, but the characters are so real. Every time I pick up a Harry Potter book, I find something new to identify with. Whether it’s the werewolf Remus Lupin, who spends his days shunned because of his condition, or Dobby the House-Elf, who breaks the stereotype of his race by seeking employment and fair wages, I will forever be smiling, laughing, and crying as I read these books.

The most important thing this series taught me, though, is that I’m not alone. When you’re in the midst of struggles, sometimes you feel as if nobody could possibly understand you. But reading about Harry’s angsty teenage years taught me that I am not the only one who has doubts, who feels lost, and who wonders how things will turn out. Even Dumbledore, who serves as Harry’s mentor, doesn’t have it all together. Adults can be broken, too, and Harry Potter taught me that. Reading about Harry’s experiences from displacement to belonging can inspire many of us to seek our own personal places in the world.

I know others have hailed Rowling’s series as an inspiration for their own works, but I must continue the trend. If a series of books can make me feel, think, and discover new things about myself in the world, that is success. As a writer, I can only hope that my future works can impact at least one person the way Harry Potter has impacted me. Rowling has inspired me to write, because stories are magical.

We all encounter moments when we must make drastic changes in our lives. Maybe you’re not boarding a scarlet steam engine bound for a magical castle, but you might be starting a new job, a new school, or a new chapter of your life. Harry Potter taught me that I can board the train that takes me to my next destination with both fear and excitement. Because, at the end of each train ride, we will all find our own version of Hogwarts: Belonging, respect, and love.

My dad and I listen to Harry Potter audiobooks in the car. And it’s magical. The same kind of magic Harry felt when he realized he wasn’t alone, that Hogwarts was his home now, that his godfather wanted him, and his friends accepted him. That magic is called love, and it is the reason I return again and again to these books.

“No story lives unless someone wants to listen. The stories we love best do live in us forever. So whether you come back by page or by the big screen, Hogwarts will always be there to welcome you home.”

J. K. Rowling

© Jennifer Shields and The Insightful Novelist, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author is strictly prohibited. Excerpts may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Jen and The Insightful Novelist with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Auditory Navigators: Hunting with sound

I wrote this piece for a creative nonfiction class last semester. As always, constructive comments are welcome.

As the sun begins to sink towards the horizon in a burst of vibrant reds and oranges, a large colony of bats stirs within their cave. Like most bats, these winged mammals are nocturnal, seeking rest during the day and flying from their damp fortress at night to hunt for their main source of food: Insects. Hanging upside-down in their cave, these bats have remained safely out of reach of their predators during the daylight hours. Now that night has officially begun, the hunt is on. The bats stretch their wings and flutter around their cave for a few minutes, insuring they are fully awake. Then, they head out into the night.
Although most people think bats are blind, they actually can see just as well as humans. However, bats navigate primarily by sound, using a system known as echolocation. According to Canadian professor Alain Van Ryckegham, bats are one of the few groups of mammals who use sound as a primary tool of navigation. (Other animals that echolocate include porpoises, dolphins, and some species of shrews.) Out of the more than nine hundred species of bats, almost three fourths of them use echolocation as a tool to locate objects during flight, find prey and navigate back to their roosts when the night is drawing to a close.
As bats prepare to echolocate, most contract their larynxes (crycothyroids), producing millisecond-long bursts of noise at frequencies too high to be heard with the human ear. The noise then bounces off of nearby objects, giving the bat an audio picture of its surroundings. Like humans, each bat has a distinctive “voice,” so a bat is able to distinguish its returning echoes from those of other bats. When it detects prey, such as a mosquito or moth, the bat begins to fly closer to the insect, speeding up its sonar emissions as it does so. Some insects, such as moths, beetles, and crickets, can hear these high frequency noises. In response, they may try to fly away. Some moths attempt to confuse the approaching bat by flying around in a zigzag pattern. Also, beetles and crickets can produce clicking noises in response to an oncoming bat, scaring the predator away. But most of the time, the bat’s echolocation and speedy reflexes win out. When the bat is right upon the insect, it scoops up its prey in its wing membranes, transferring the food to its mouth. This “dance” between the bat and its prey would not be possible without the bat’s complex neural and morphological adaptations.
Nature has equipped bats with complex auditory structures that enable them to receive and process echoes. When a bat prepares to emit echolocation calls, the stapedius, otherwise known as the middle ear muscle, contracts. In doing so, three bones in the inner ear called the hammer, anvil, and stirrup (also known as malleus, incus and stapes, respectively), move away from each other. This occurs approximately 6 milliseconds before the bat contracts its larynx to begin producing sounds and helps to protect a bat’s sensitive hearing. After 2-8 milliseconds, the stapedius expands once again, preparing the bat’s auditory structures to receive and interpret the returning echoes.
Van Ryckegham explains that bats funnel sounds through the unique shapes of their outer ears. Due to a concentration of receptor cells in their ears, bats can distinguish minute differences in sound frequencies, enabling them to determine the distance and size of an object. The sound then vibrates an inner ear structure called the basilar membrane. The basilar membrane vibrates at a different rate depending on the frequency of the sound. In some species, such as the mustached bat (Pteronotus parnellii), the basilar membrane develops a concentration of cells in areas that respond to specific frequencies that the bat emits. Then, this structure converts the auditory signal into a neurological message which travels to the brain stem, and from there, to the rest of the bat’s brain.
While most bats contract their larynxes to produce sound, some species use other methods of auditory production, such as clicking their tongues. Horseshoe bats (Rhinolophidae) emit sounds through their nostrils, around which they have leaf-shaped structures which magnify the sounds, similar to megaphones.
In the late 1930s, zoologist Donald Griffin and neurologist Robert Galambos performed a series of experiments investigating how bats navigate in the dark. Using an early ultrasonic detector, they found that bats produced streams of noises at varying frequencies. After performing experiments during which specific senses were deprived, the researchers concluded that bats navigate in the dark solely by sound. Griffin was the first person to refer to this phenomenon as “echolocation.” Not only did these findings reveal previously unknown information about bat navigation, but they allowed bats to begin to break free from stigmatized fear. Instead, these animals began to be admired for their unique ability.
In the following years, Griffin worked with numerous scientists, observing bats in their natural habitats. The researchers studied the bat’s sensitivity in obstacle location. They found that, while low frequency sounds travel farther, bats most often use high frequency sounds, which provide important physical details about objects. Also, they sought to determine the differences in echolocation sounds across species. Griffin and his colleagues Fred Webster, C. R. Michael, and J. H. Friend, studied how bats detect flying objects and determine differences among airborne objects. These studies and others have revealed that bats can glean a great deal of information from listening to echoes. For example, they can detect a target’s velocity, size, range, specific characteristics, and elevation through a combination of factors with more than 99 percent accuracy. Indeed, this system is so sophisticated that a bat can perceive an object as thin as a human hair, as well as detect fish moving underwater based on the ripples they perceive on the water’s surface.
Ever since the publication of Griffin’s findings, the remarkable ability of bats to navigate and hunt solely with sound has fascinated humans. In fact, sonar (Sound Navigation and Ranging) and radar (Radio Detection and Ranging) were inspired by the bat echolocation system. Sonar, which involves a mechanized emission of sound waves, is used by the military to locate objects underwater, such as submarines and other ships. Like bats, people use radar to locate planes and other similar airborne objects. Unlike echolocation, though, this system uses a series of electromagnetic waves to locate objects. Thus, studying bat echolocation has not only increased human knowledge of this unique navigation system, but it has inspired people to adopt similar systems of locating objects. Today, bat echolocation remains one of the most intricate and admired processes in nature.

© Jennifer Shields and The Insightful Novelist, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author is strictly prohibited. Excerpts may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Jen and The Insightful Novelist with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

You Don’t Need to See to Write Visual Details

It sounds cliché, but ever since I was introduced to the written word, I knew writing would be a major part of my life. Some of my earliest memories are of sitting down at the big table in Grandma Millie’s open living room, soaking up the words of various children’s books I received in the mail. Although books like The Three Bears were simplistic, they introduced me to the wide and wonderful world of literature. (If you noticed the alliteration, you get virtual cookies.) Such stories also served as a gateway to more complex stories and novels. Soon, I began craving books with intricate plots, well-rounded characters, and detailed settings. Details, in fact, drive most elements of writing.

When people find out that I am blind and I also write, there often is an assumption that my writing lacks visual detail. One of my elementary school teachers commented to me that she couldn’t believe I had written a creative writing piece, since I had described a scene from the point of view of a sighted character. I explained to her that, although I’m blind, I have a general concept of how vision works. Not to mention, I’ve read more books than I can count, and 99.99% of them featured sighted characters.

For me, this issue is important. We need to stop assuming that people’s differences limit their writing potential. Not to mention, most of what people consider to be “visual details” are more conceptual. For example, I can describe colors as being bright or dark. I can write “the shimmering white light coalesced into a tall figure clothed in a white robe.” Because in my mind, I know my story. I know the meanings of the words that bring it to life.

Recently, I shared an in-class writing assignment with a friend of mine. “I can picture that character,” she told me. Mission accomplished. Despite my incomplete knowledge of the experience of sight, I can communicate with my visual audience.

I think the main reason I focus on visual details in my writing is because they fascinate me. When I sit down to write, I’m enveloped in the otherworldliness of my text. And because I’ve never had full sight, physical vision becomes a part of the world I’m creating. This isn’t because of a desire to experience sight, but more of an interest in its uses, somewhat similar to the use of time travel. (But time travel is way more exciting.) Furthermore, texts should embrace all kinds of detail: gustatory, auditory, visual, tactile, and olfactory information. Incorporating such specifics during the writing process can help the text connect with readers. And that’s all I’ve ever wanted. Just to write down my stories in the hope that someday, somewhere, somebody will recognize part of themselves in the world, the characters, and the words.

Want to talk more about the writing process? Leave a comment.

© Jennifer Shields and The Insightful Novelist, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author is strictly prohibited. Excerpts may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Jen and The Insightful Novelist with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Replacing a Blind Child’s White Cane with a Pool Noodle is NOT Acceptable

http://wtkr.com/2014/12/17/school-punishes-blind-child-by-taking-away-cane-replacing-it-with-a-pool-noodle/

Recently, a friend brought my attention to this news story. I have heard of many injustices against blind people, but this is the most astonishing and devastating story I have read in a long time. And it makes me angry and sad.

Dakota Nafzinger, a blind child from Kansas City, Mo, was being disruptive on a school bus one day. According to North Kansas City school officials, he struck another child with his cane, so the school took it away from him. If that wasn’t alarming enough, they replaced it with a pool noodle and informed the child he would get his cane back in two weeks. I mean, this is 2014. Despite all of the progress being made in the field of disability awareness, some people still aren’t getting it.

Mistake number one: Taking the child’s cane away. Do North Kansas City school officials comprehend the importance of a cane in a blind person’s life? I think not. If they understood that canes are important for determining the locations of objects such as landmarks, drop-offs, and doorways, they might have paused before they made this awful decision. Furthermore, an eight-year-old child is still learning how to navigate with a white cane. By taking away that means of navigation and providing such a ridiculous substitute, the officials are demonstrating their nonchalance about a child’s safety, while impeding his learning potential at the same time. Furthermore, what makes this a more appropriate punishment than those his peers would have received for being disruptive? What’s wrong with suspending his recess privileges for a couple of days or simply sending a note home to his parents? Clearly, taking his cane away is a much better form of punishment, because it’s school property, after all!

Mistake number two: Giving the child a pool noodle for two weeks as a substitute for a white cane. I tried to find a way to write that without it sounding ridiculous, but that’s impossible. School officials were just going to take Dakota’s cane away and leave it at that, but apparently he “fidgets” when he doesn’t have his cane. And that’s completely understandable. Since a cane is a primary navigation tool, it makes perfect sense that a blind person would feel uncomfortable and anxious without it. A friend of mine once commented to me that her cane is her eyes, since it provides information about the environment around her. So, then, what should be the proper response when a blind child’s eyes have been forcibly taken away? Why, to provide them with a pool noodle, which is not bendy at all and will provide just as much information as a cane!

Naturally, Dakota’s parents are outraged. They understand the importance of independence for their son. They know the crucial importance of a cane in a young blind child’s life. And the fact that this story has attracted media attention proves that others know it, too. Dakota should be treated just like his sighted peers. The fact that officials purposely made this boy’s life difficult because of his blindness baffles and frustrates me.

I’m trying to understand the viewpoint of the school system but to no avail. I can only conclude that this incident occurred because of a lack of knowledge about white canes and those who use them.

Should we be concerned that school officials are not educated about the needs of their blind students? My answer is, emphatically, yes. It doesn’t matter how disruptive the child was being. It doesn’t matter that his cane was school property. North Kansas City schools need to understand that this form of punishment is inappropriate, damaging, and limits the child’s ability to learn.

So, in summary, is taking a child’s main means of navigation, as well as his ability to explore the world, an appropriate punishment for a little bit of disruption on a bus? I think not. However, the school did issue an apology and return Dakota’s cane. The National Federation of the Blind is working to educate North Kansas City schools about the importance of white canes for blind children as well as the needs of blind children in general. Check out the update here:
http://foxct.com/2014/12/18/update-school-district-apologizes-for-taking-cane-from-blind-boy/

If you want to learn more about white canes and their importance for the blind, go here:
https://nfb.org/images/nfb/publications/fr/fr27/2/fr270213.htm

If you’re interested in reading more of my thoughts about why I love white canes, check this out: https://theinsightfulnovelist.wordpress.com/2014/06/24/vibrating-clothes-cannot-replace-white-canes/

Please comment and let me know your thoughts on Dakota Nafzinger’s story.

My Top Five Literary Best Friends

Not only do great books draw me in with their intricate plots and intriguing settings, but many of them contain genuine, well-developed characters. In the often times perplexing realm of literary analysis, we call these characters “round characters,” because they have been given unique identities. In fact, some of them are so real that I find myself wishing I could know them in real life. It’s kind of like that friend of a friend who’s always discussed over casual coffee dates with your friends that you wish you knew better, (because honestly, if you met said person, you just might be best friends for life). So I’ve dedicated some of my brainpower of late making this list of my literary best friends.

1. Lucy Pevensie from The Chronicles of Narnia

I love Lucy. (Get it? I made a joke. It’s funny!) She reminds me of the kind of child I was and will always be. Her curiosity helps pull me into these remarkable stories, and I admire her steadfast determination to believe in what she knows to be true, regardless of what others might think. She seems like the type of person I could talk to about fairy tales for hours. She’s also friendly and light-hearted, qualities that make others want to get to know her. Not only that, but she doesn’t give up. Although she has to wait for years to see Aslan again, she never loses her faith in him. Dedication to one’s faith is an important quality in those I call my friends.

2. Nancy Drew from the Nancy Drew Series

Ever since I was nine years old, I’ve wanted to be best friends with Nancy. She’s smart, resourceful, and always apprehends the criminal. And those are great accomplishments when you consider the fact that she’s been knocked on the head numerous times, people have cut the brake cables on her car, and she’s been sent tons of life-threatening notes. Instead of deterring her, these circumstances make her more motivated to track down villainous hooligans. I’m not sure I could react in the same way in her shoes. Also, she’s always up with the latest fashion trends. Not that I’m too concerned with that, but it’s always great to have someone fashionable in your friends group. It’s also worth noting that I have yet to figure out how to pick a lock, and that’s a daily task for her. If we were best friends, she could teach me that skill, along with many others, I’m sure. And Bess and George are pretty cool, too, so if Nancy and I were homegirls, I’d get to spend time with them as well, most likely.

3. Remus Lupin from the Harry Potter Series

Remus is quiet and introverted, but when he speaks, people listen. Because he’s a werewolf, people have judged him all of his life; however, he still keeps seeking to become a productive member of society because it’s important for him to prove himself. (That’s something we have in common.) He is very intelligent and appreciates literature, so much in fact that he gifted Harry a set of books one time. Maybe if we were friends, we’d exchange stories as well, written and otherwise. Remus doesn’t have much money, but he never complains about it. Instead, he quietly deals the hand life has given to him. He enjoys serving others, such as when he goes above and beyond his teaching duties to help Harry learn the Patronus charm and when he serves in the Order of the Phoenix later on. Having been through so many hardships, he could give me some great advice when I’m going through difficult times.

4. Charles Wallace Murry from the Time Quintet

Charles Wallace is the coolest little kid ever. Seriously. He’s so smart that his older sister, Meg, can’t keep up with him, and his teachers can’t even follow his trains of thought. Also, he reads books and magazines that intelligent adults have difficulty comprehending. In short, the kid’s a genius. (Jimmy Neutron, anyone?) Not only could I have intelligent conversations with him, but he’d be able to teach me all kinds of scientific concepts I don’t know. Kids his age make fun of him for being different, and even adults think of him as “odd”. But he’s just different, and that’s what I like about him. He’s quite thoughtful and understanding for someone so young. Even though he likes liverwurst sandwiches, (seriously, bro, why?), I think I can overlook that, since he’s such an awesome little kid.

5. Jo March from Little Women

I’m an English major, so, obviously, one of my literary best friends must come from a classic novel. I like Jo because she’s not overly girly like most women in 19th-century literature. In fact, she prides herself on being a tomboy, and she yearns to join the army, like her father. Even though she does her best to shirk femininity, she maintains close relationships with her mother and three sisters. I admire Jo because she strives to become her own person, regardless of what society may think of her. As the story progresses, we witness her acceptance of her place in society. Although she at first dismisses the notion of romance, she finds romantic love in the last place she expects it. (And that’s a great topic to talk about while out on the town one day!) Our mutual love for literature would spawn some great conversations, as well. Her goal in life is to write a successful novel, and so is mine! If she existed, we could bounce writing ideas off of each other.

So, that’s my short list of literary best friends. Have you ever wished you could be friends with a character from a book, movie, or TV show? If so, feel free to write about it in the comments.

© Jennifer Shields and The Insightful Novelist, 2014. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author is strictly prohibited. Excerpts may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Jen and The Insightful Novelist with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Vibrating Clothes Cannot Replace White Canes

Sometimes, when I’m suffering from a pervading disease called Boredom, I spend my time searching Twitter for posts about blind people. I’m used to finding questions about how blind people eat, dream, talk, dress themselves, etc. That’s what I was expecting. But, interestingly enough, I found this article:
http://www.hngn.com/articles/33639/20140612/blind-people-could-use-vibrating-clothes-to-move-around.htm
“Blind people could use vibrating clothes to move around,” the headline blares. Upon first reading this, I laughed out loud. For about thirty seconds. But then, I decided I would give this article a chance. After all, they could be on to something. I’m not the type to have an opinion before I’ve educated myself about things like this, after all.
This prototype, known as Eyeronman, is being developed by Tactical Navigation Tools to assist blind people in finding obstacles, as well as for soldiers and firefighters. Although I can’t speak to the benefits of such a product for those in high-risk professions, I can provide my opinion on this innovation in relation to everyday navigation for the blind.
“Most blind people still use a white cane to navigate,” the article says. Well, yeah. There’s a reason for that. White canes are not just here to help us from running into things; they’re also symbols of our independence, an independence which can, apparently, be increased by taking away our canes and giving us clothes that vibrate, according to Dr. JR Rizzo, a rehabilitation doctor who is legally blind. He even refers to the white cane as a “stick,” and believes it’s “ridiculous” that a blind person is given a white cane while those with limb losses are provided with more “extensive devices.” So, does this doctor believe the mobility needs of the blind are similar to that of those who have lost limbs? It seems so, although this makes no sense to me. If a person is blind and has no other physical disabilities, what makes a white cane inappropriate for travel?
However, it’s worth noting that this product was inspired by the needs of people who have lost their sight later in life. I can’t speak to the challenges this brings, but I do not see how vibrating clothes offer a way to interact more with the environment than a white cane does, as this article claims. In conjunction with a white cane, this device might provide additional information. I don’t know, since I have not seen or tested one.
The product is a shirt made of “electro-active polymers,” which vibrates close to where there is an obstacle. I have several problems with this. First of all, what if the obstacle is something only a few inches from the ground? How is a vibrating shirt going to detect that for me? And what about drop-offs? If this device is supposed to replace my white cane, am I just expected to feel with my feet everywhere so I don’t fall down a curb? Also, I’m not sure how to wash “electro-active polymers.” Can they be machine washed? Will the shirt start vibrating in my washing machine? And what if I’m wearing it out somewhere, and it starts raining? With my cane, I don’t have to worry about being electrocuted while traveling. Not to mention, I don’t get weird looks from people who are wondering why the heck my shirt is vibrating.
My sassiness and slight exaggeration aside, I don’t want to discourage the company from developing this further. In fact, I’m interested to see what they come up with. Even if it doesn’t prove to be a useful tool for the blind, someone with other physical disabilities may get use out of it. Or maybe, as the company claims, it could be a valuable asset for soldiers or firefighters. The most concerning part about this product is that its purpose is to replace my white cane. By telling me where objects are, this device would effectively take away my opportunity to find the object and explore it on my own. I cannot tell you how many times my cane has hit an object, I’ve examined it, and then used it as a landmark later when I got disoriented. Therefore, my cane is part of me, and I will NOT be replacing it with a vibrating shirt. Ever.

Why Moses is My Hero

I’m sure many of you are familiar with the story of Moses. One day, God called to him from a burning bush and gave him an important task: To lead the Israelites out of Egypt. While the Lord caused famine and disease among the Egyptians, He was building Moses up to be an awesome hero. And how about that whole parting the waters thing? Totally cool, bro
But none of those reasons are why I look to Moses as my hero. Yes, God used him for great things, and, yes, he was successful. But when we look at who Moses was as a person, we can begin to understand truly how much God freed up our brother in Christ with this mission.
Exodus 3 tells us that when Moses saw the burning bush, he was surprised that the fire wasn’t harming it. Imagine his shock when God started talking out from the depths of the flames! When God introduced himself, “Moses hid his face, because he was afraid to look at God” (Exodus 3:6). From this, we know he wasn’t always the brave hero we know he became. Moses seemed to lack confidence as God began explaining how He had seen the sufferings of his people. “So now, go,” God said to Moses. “I am sending you to Pharaoh to bring my people the Israelites out of Egypt” (Exodus 3:10).
But Moses felt unworthy. He replied: “Who am I that I should go to Pharaoh and bring the Israelites out of Egypt?” (3:11). Questioning God’s plan, now, are we, Moses? Shame… No, but seriously, who among us hasn’t questioned God at some point in our lives? If God appeared to me in a burning bush, I’d be a little uncertain of myself, too.
For the rest of this chapter, God gave Moses instructions on what he should say to the Israelites when he returned. In Exodus 4, God gave Moses several signs to convince the Israelites He appeared to Moses. Moses could turn his staff into a snake and cause his hand to become leprous, then healthy again. If, for some reason, these signs didn’t work, God told Moses to pour out water from the Nile on the ground, where it would turn into blood (4:9).
It’s important to note here the responsibility God gave to Moses. Not only must the man remember all these complicated instructions, but he must also perform some crazy signs in front of all of his friends and family, who may or may not start laughing at him. That’s a lot of pressure for anyone, let alone a guy who’s had some challenges since birth (as we will see).
Again, Moses tried to convince God that maybe someone else would be better suited to this job. In verse 9, Moses said: “Pardon your servant, Lord. I have never been eloquent, neither in the past nor since you have spoken to your servant. I am slow of speech and tongue.” Okay, so Moses can’t speak well. Maybe he doesn’t know how to find the right words, or maybe, like many of us, he gets nervous talking in front of crowds. But he’s also “slow of speech and tongue.” Of course, there are many ways to interpret this. As I was reading through this chapter one day, though, those words struck me, and I feel that the Lord led me to a revelation. What if Moses had a speech impediment?
As if to corroborate this, God responded in the most beautiful way possible. Instead of condemning Moses or becoming angry at his continued objections, the Creator of the universe said: “Who gave human beings their mouths? Who makes them deaf or mute? Who gives them sight or makes them blind? Is it not I, the LORD?” (4:11).
Whoa. Reading this verse gives me chills every time. I know God creates everyone, but I never thought about creation in this way. Many people believe disabilities are the results of Satan’s influences, that God can and will heal them. But this verse says differently. While I have no doubts about God’s abilities to heal, this verse implies something even greater: That God uses people with disabilities in world-changing ways and creates them for that purpose.
Disabilities have been viewed mainly as weaknesses since the beginning of time. Although the term seems negative, this is not so when we look at this issue through the lens of 2 Corinthians 12 7-10. Paul wrote:
…in order to keep me from becoming conceited, I was given a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me. Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.
Many of us with disabilities may feel at times that our challenges make us weak. We may ask God to take away our burdens and make us strong. But God says that in weakness, His power is stronger. Therefore, we are called to rejoice about our weaknesses. Moses, too, felt insecure because of his weaknesses; he thought his speech problems would make him unqualified to do the work God planned for him. But God saw Moses’ heart, and He knew He wanted Moses to do the job. I know I feel better when I rise above my challenges and achieve something, so I can imagine how Moses must have felt when he realized that, despite his weakness, people were valuing him and taking him seriously.
Moses taught me that God calls us to do things outside of our comfort zones. For Moses, it was speaking God’s message, even though his speech was not as clear as that of others. God knew Moses would invest more effort than others, because God made him strong in his weakness to lead God’s people.
So when you feel lost or unsure about something God has called you to do, remember the words God spoke to Moses in Exodus 4:12: “Now go; I will help you speak and will teach you what to say.” We’re not alone! God used Moses to show His strength in weakness, and that’s why Moses is my hero. He showed me that God creates blind people, God creates sighted people, and they are all fearfully and wonderfully made.

© Jennifer Shields and The Insightful Novelist, 2014. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author is strictly prohibited. Excerpts may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Jen and The Insightful Novelist with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.