This spring break, I had the unbelievable privilege of attending an alternative spring break trip focused on disabilities. Disabilities had been an issue that I did not necessarily seek out myself, but something that just became a part of me along the way when I met certain individuals, and these individuals impassioned me so strongly toward the topic.
The part of the trip that made the largest impression on me was when we visited the Colorado Center for the Blind. Before, when I thought of individuals with visual impairments, I could remember just thinking about all of things they couldn't do: seeing colors, watching movies, reading books, cooking, etc.
When we got to the CCB on our first day, I was surprised to find that, much like when I was in middle school and high school, they had morning announcements. Because we were new to the school, the students at the school said their names in alphabetical order, which seems relatively simple, but it's not as easy as it seems. When we tried to do our names in alphabetical order, there were gaps and pauses due to being unsure of whether we'd spoken out of turn or not. With morning announcements finishing, I went to the front desk because it was finally starting — we were going to be wearing the sleep shades and were going to be undergoing a blind simulation.
The sleep shades were exactly what I thought they would be: pitch black and somewhere between comfortable and irritating. As I put the sleep shades I instantly lost all sense of orientation and panicked. Which direction was I facing? Who was around me? I turned to some of my peers who were also undergoing the blind simulation with me and kind of whispered their names until I could follow their voices. We were then all assigned a cane to assist us when we walked around. The use of the cane was a little humorous when I saw how it worked, because we were essentially using it to feel around and whack whatever we didn’t know was there until we could feel what it was or move past it. Of course, it was much more sophisticated than that, but as a beginner I was really not as focused on the technique as I was on not screwing up and embarrassing myself.
I was partnered with one of the students at the school to help assist me through the day. I referred to her as my mentor the whole day, but her tone toward me was mostly relaxed and easygoing, and not as didactic as I thought it was going to be. As you probably know, when swimming, as a beginner, it isn’t the brightest idea to jump into the deep end. My mentor clearly did not believe in that saying, and within five minutes of being assigned to my mentor, we had walked out of the center and I was out of the center in just sleep shades and my cane.
She taught me different ways I could use my cane when I encountered different surfaces, and to feel the grass right off the side of the sidewalk to know how long I should be walking. It was amazing how focused your other senses become when you are not able to see. As we walked a little farther, I could feel that the sidewalk was ending and that we were approaching a street with cars coming on the right side. Naturally, cars would be a very good reason to panic, especially when you have sleep shades on, but my mentor had clearly done this for a really long time and this adventure was just another walk in the park — almost literally. As I used the techniques and got a feel for navigating, we reached our first destination: a coffee shop. I was able to order a coffee and pay for my coffee without lifting up my sleep shades, and it was such a gratifying experience to truly understand that, though we may think going to coffee shop without being able to see is ludicrous, it is actually very possible.
As we walked back, I thought we would relax for the rest of the day and I'd be able to kick back, but of course we did none of that. As soon as we got back, navigating class was almost finished and it was time for home management. Home management is one of the coolest classes we came across because it was basically a class where you learned how to do domestic chores and jobs around the house, like cooking and cleaning. As we went to the kitchen, my mentor broke the news that we were going to be make cornbread. I remember thinking, “I'm going to make cornbread with sleep shades on? I don’t think I've ever made cornbread with my vision — or ever baked anything, actually.” But, just like learning to walk without vision, my mentor got me measuring out flour and sugar, teaching me to identify between the two based on texture and measuring with the measuring cups, and leveling the tops to ensure we got the right amount. As the class went on, I was just left speechless at how good she was at cooking and just knowing how to use everything in the kitchen, because I know how much I regularly struggle doing things in the kitchen. As the cornbread came out of the oven, it was just an overwhelming experience to taste what we had made together. (But really, my mentor probably did 80 percent of the work.)
As the simulation came to an end and lunchtime approached, I felt so much appreciation for the CCB and the students at the school for allowing us to observe how they go to class, learn, and perform everyday activities with such ease. And even when I wasn't actually being taught something, just the conversations I had with some of the students were so natural, and it made me think how many times I shied away from initiating conversation with someone I perceived as disabled because of my own predispositions.
These individuals are not disabled. In fact, no one with a disability is truly disabled. They just live life in a different way and experience the world in a way differently than I do. If they are disabled, then I am disabled too. I am not able to grow my own food, build my own house, or make my own clothes. These things are given to me because I am not able to do these things on my own. Next time you come across an individual with a disability of any kind, just remember that it isn’t about what they can’t do — it's about the way they do the things that they can do.
