Who would have ever guessed that doing something so ordinary could be so challenging without the use of one’s vision? They say that “In darkness there is light,” but I had never known that expression to be so factual until the day I experienced the exquisite and celebrated “Dialogue in the Dark” exhibition. My high school had decided to attend this social enterprise in an attempt to increase both students and teachers’ understanding and appreciation of the blind community. At “Dialogue in the Dark,” blind tour guides lead visitors through various settings in pitch darkness, while the visitors must learn to tackle and adapt to everyday situations without depending on their sense of sight. The purpose of the visual deprivation is to allow the visitors to reconsider their previous judgments towards those who do not possess the ability to see.
When I first entered the exhibition, my entire setting changed from one of brightness and clarity to one of complete and utter darkness. That was nothing, however, compared to what I was about to endure in only a few brief moments. Although I could feel the presence of my classmates and teachers all around me, I had never felt more lost, alone, and helpless in my entire life. Suddenly, a disconcerting voice came out of the blackness, revealing its identity: “I am blind, and today I will be your guide to the world.” As we stumbled around in all directions, my group began what would come to be known as a life-changing journey that none of us would ever forget.
Despite constant faltering and feelings of total disorientation, we eventually made it past the first corridor and into an unfamiliar territory with the help of our blind tour guide. Ironically, he was the one who was leading us around the darkened rooms. In a strange exchange of roles, the tour guide explained to my group that we were currently situated inside an imitation grocery store. We were then requested to shop around for various food items by utilizing all of our senses, save for sight. The task was much more challenging than I had initially expected it to be. Entirely devoid of my ability to see, I came to the stunning revelation that human beings rely primarily on their sight to guide them through life. What would they do, however, if they were suddenly thrust into an environment in which their vision is normally a necessity, without being able to use their eyes even in the slightest? More importantly, how would they be able to function in this sort of environment, while still remaining capable and competent individuals?
As our tour guide continued to escort us through the various rooms within the exhibit, my group members and I took turns feeling and identifying unknown objects. We were then asked to describe what type of setting and atmosphere we thought we were in, as well as how we responded to it. My brain struggled to decipher what each object was—a task usually completed in an instant by a simple glance with my eyes. Midway through the tour, by using my heightened senses of sound and smell, I came to the conclusion that my group had just entered a busy highway. I heard the piercing resonances of traffic zooming by and car horns honking relentlessly, and I was therefore able to derive my current location. The reverberating noises I heard, however, seemed to be coming from every direction. I felt vulnerable and powerless amidst the unexpected clamor.
Immersed in a world of pure darkness, I also noticed that the sounds I heard seemed exceedingly intimidating and even frightening, for I had no idea where they were coming from or how close their sources were to my exact location. While standing in a pretend park, I was unable to trace even the slightest sounds of a dog barking or a bird chirping. I was astonished at how quickly my nose was able to pick up certain scents (such as flowers in a garden or gasoline in a car), which I had never before paid any attention to. Eventually, I found myself beginning to wonder whether or not all visually-impaired people feel the exact same way I did when they desire to do such a simple action as cross the street. With this thought came the realization of how often people take their ability to see for granted. Actions that seem so easy and effortless to most people, such as opening a food wrapper or getting dressed, are far more complicated for those who are sightless than I could have ever imagined.
At last, our tour guide led my group over to a miniature restaurant, where he served us different flavors of soda, and we were required to guess which brands they were. While sipping our glasses, some people in my group began interviewing the tour guide, posing the obvious question of how he is able to thrive in a world that is so incredibly focused on sight. The tour guide explained to us how his deformity actually has its benefits at times. For example, since all he has are his senses of smell, touch, and sound to base one’s character on, he is not so quick to make assumptions about a person when he first meets him or her. This piece of knowledge strongly deepened my sense of self-awareness. So often do I find myself and others judging another person merely by his or her appearance. It is unfortunate that we tend to focus only on the external factors of a person, and therefore we are never fully able to appreciate his or her internal factors.
Despite my initial fears and apprehensions at the beginning of the tour, my experience at “Dialogue in the Dark” actually proved to be extremely enjoyable, educational, and--above all--inspirational. I learned many valuable life lessons that day, such as to not take my blessings for granted, as well as the importance of being independent, for we do not constantly have other people around to guide us through life. In addition, I became much more empathetic toward the members of the blind community, who never cease to amaze me with their unwavering optimistic attitudes, despite their life-altering deficiency. I also felt ashamed of myself for being so ungrateful for possessing the ability to see, as well as for thinking it such an aggravation to be trapped in utter darkness for over an hour, when some people have to endure the darkness for their entire lives.
Walking out of the exhibition at the end of the day, I felt a mixture of relief and sadness, for I knew that my tour guide would never be able to emerge from the darkness the same way I had been able to. Being forced to tackle different scenarios, in which I was unable to depend on my sense of sight, left an astounding impact on me and allowed me to gain an entirely new perspective on the world. What I learned most of all from my whole enlightening experience at “Dialogue in the Dark,” however, was that the tour guide leading us around the various locations in the blackness was not really “blind” after all. It was, in reality, the ones being led who had truly been “blind” all along.
