The Braille Monitor January, 2001 Edition
What I Did Last Summer
by Janna Stein
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Janna Stein
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From
the Editor: Many of us remember with a shudder the personal essays required
of us on our college application forms. The challenge of distinguishing oneself
from the herd in that confined space is formidable.
Janna
Stein is the daughter of NFB of Illinois First Vice President Debbie Kent
Stein. She has now attended a number of NFB conventions, and it is clear from
what she writes that the experience has helped to shape her life. The following
application essay demonstrates once again that National Conventions profoundly
affect many, many people, not all of them blind. This is what Janna wrote:
On the Fourth of July most kids my age
are at parties with their friends or visiting relatives for a barbecue. But,
when the fireworks go off each year, I am usually sitting by the pool of
first-class hotel in a big city, surrounded by hundreds of blind people. That
may seem strange to some, but I would never wish to be anywhere else. I attend
the National Federation of the Blind (NFB) Convention each year with my mom,
who has been totally blind since birth. I guide people to their hotel rooms,
help them find the registration line, and basically make myself useful. The
most meaningful thing I do by far is working at NFB child care. Child care is a
service for children whose parents are attending the convention. Some of the
children are blind, and some are the sighted children of blind parents. One of
the main things I have learned helping at child care is just how much potential
disabled children truly have if you help them reach it.
The first day of child care last
summer I looked around and saw the sighted children playing happily together
with the toys. But I was troubled to see that most of the blind or disabled
children were playing alone in a corner or not playing at all, simply sitting
or rocking back and forth. The sighted children made no attempt to reach out to
them. I even saw one sighted boy taking advantage of a girl's blindness by
hiding her toy where she could not reach it. From that first day I was
determined to help the blind and sighted children to play together as equals.
After all, "Equality, Opportunity, and Security" is the NFB's motto.
Encouraging the children to play
together was a hard task. There were some games, like basketball, the blind
kids had some trouble playing, and many sighted kids would lose patience with
them. I began to get frustrated. I was realizing how many hardships blind
people have to endure, even from childhood, to fit in. I became conscious of
some of the things my mom must have had to go through when she was my age. The
thought of some of the rude people she must have encountered made me angry.
I was giving up hope when I met
Margaret. She was about ten years old and had lost her sight very early in
life. She seemed to have other disabilities as well, such as autism. All day
long she would sit cross‑legged on the floor, rocking back and forth. She
listened to the same song over and over on the electric keyboard while other
children played around her. I tried to talk to her, and at first I thought she
was only babbling. But I began to realize that what she said had meaning to
her. The more I listened to her, the more I understood. She would count the
keys on the keyboard or hum along to the tune. I was amazed at what she could
do. I realized, maybe, if the other children saw this, they would accept her as
one of their own.
The high point of my entire convention
came the next day. It was open-microphone day. Anyone could get up in front of
the whole group and perform. Kids sang songs or told cute little jokes, but I
was afraid a lot of the blind kids were too shy to venture up to the spotlight.
Then another of the counselors brought Margaret up onto the stage. To
everyone's surprise she sang every word of "On Top of Spaghetti"
perfectly. The kids were amazed. After she finished, they all began to chant in
unison, "Margaret! Margaret!" She recognized her name and jumped up
and down in time with the chant as my eyes filled with tears of pride. After
that day things were much better between the blind and sighted kids. I think
they realized everyone should be given a chance at equality.
Seeing the change in those children's
attitude has changed my life. When I got home from convention, I tried to
treat everyone equally and never judge someone before getting to know them.
However, the lesson I learned does not stop at the disabled. I now try to
make sure no one suffers discrimination due to race, religion, or sexual preference.
Some of my old friends used to make hateful comments against gays or people
with other ethnic backgrounds. This always made me angry, but before convention
I used to keep my feelings to myself. Now, if someone says something prejudiced,
I will speak up. I will never forget what I learned from my convention experience.
That lesson will follow me throughout my life, making me a better person.
People have a right to be treated equally, and no one has a right to judge
another.