_______________________________________________________________________________
Vol. 49, No. 11 December 2006
Barbara Pierce, editor
Published in inkprint, in Braille, and on cassette by
The National Federation
of the Blind
Marc Maurer, president
National Office
1800 Johnson Street
Baltimore, Maryland 21230
telephone: (410) 659-9314
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THE NATIONAL FEDERATION OF THE BLIND IS NOT AN ORGANIZATION
SPEAKING FOR THE BLIND--IT IS THE BLIND SPEAKING FOR THEMSELVES
ISSN
0006-8829
____________________________________________________________________
Vol. 49, No. 11 December 2006
Convention Bulletin 2007
Maxi-Aids Seeks to Intimidate
Competitors by Claiming that Somebody Stole
Intellectual Property from It
by Marc Maurer
Blindness: The Lessons
of History
by Kenneth Jernigan
It’s a Long Way from School
Plays to Community Theater
So How Did I Get from There to Here?
by Gail Snider
An Examination of Four
Stand-alone Reading Machines
by Steven Booth, Mike Tindell, and Anne Taylor
A New Day for Disabled
Americans
by Karl Smith
Ask Miss Whozit
Leadership In Action:
Jernigan Institute Establishes New Program to Empower Youth
by The NFB Jernigan Institute Education Team
The 2007 National Federation
of the Blind
Scholarship Program
Distinguished Educator
of Blind
Children Award for 2007
by Sharon Maneki
The 2007 Blind Educator
of the Year Award
by David Ticchi
What A Relief!
by Denice F. Brown
Massachusetts Appoints the Right Man
A New Way to Demonstrate
Braille Literacy
by Jerry Whittle
Social Security, SSI, and
Medicare Facts for 2007
by James McCarthy
The Momentum Is Building
Recipes
Monitor Miniatures
Copyright 2006 National Federation of the Blind
It is time to plan for the 2007 convention of the National Federation of the Blind. This year we are returning to Atlanta and the beautiful Marriott Marquis Hotel, site of the 1999, 2000, and 2004 conventions.
Once again our hotel rates are the envy of all. For the 2007 convention they are singles, doubles, and twins, $61; and triples and quads, $66. In addition to the room rates there will be a tax, which at present is 15 percent. No charge will be made for children seventeen and under in the room with parents as long as no extra bed is requested.
For 2007 convention room reservations you should write directly to the Marriott Marquis, 265 Peachtree Center Avenue, Atlanta, Georgia 30303, or call (404) 521-0000. The hotel will want a deposit of $60 or a credit card number. If you use a credit card, the deposit will be charged against your card immediately, just as would be the case with a $60 check. If a reservation is cancelled prior to June 1, 2007, $30 of the $60 deposit will be returned. Otherwise refunds will not be made.
The Marquis is a beautiful, fifty-story atrium hotel with a panoramic view of this bustling city in the heart of the New South. It is twelve miles north of the Atlanta-Hartsfield International Airport. Those driving to the convention will find the hotel conveniently located off Interstate 85, by taking Exit 96, International Boulevard, turning left onto International Boulevard, going to Peachtree Center Avenue, and turning right. The hotel is on the right in the second block. The Marriott has several excellent restaurants. The hotel is currently undergoing renovations that will result in some alteration in the configuration of these. We will report on the changes as the convention draws near. It still features indoor and outdoor pools, a solarium, health club, whirlpool, and sauna. Guest-room amenities include cable television, coffee pot, iron and ironing board, hair dryer, and dataport.
Federationists attending the convention will have access to a wealth of restaurants, shops, and other attractions like Martin Luther King Center (1.5 miles), Underground Atlanta (0.8 mile), and World of Coca-Cola (0.8 mile). See later issues of the Monitor for information about tours and other attractions in the Greater Atlanta area.
The 2007 convention of the National Federation of the Blind will be a truly exciting and memorable event, with an unparalleled program and rededication to the goals and work of our movement. Make plans now to be a part of it. The schedule this year is the usual one. Preconvention seminars for parents of blind children and other groups and set-up of the exhibit hall will take place on Saturday, June 30, and adjournment will be Friday, July 6, at 5:00 p.m. Convention registration and registration packet pickup for those who registered online will begin on Sunday, July 1, and both Sunday and Monday will be filled with meetings of divisions and committees, including the Monday morning annual meeting, open to all, of the board of directors of the National Federation of the Blind.
Immediately following the first NFB Independence March through downtown Atlanta, the general convention sessions will begin on Tuesday, July 3, and continue through the afternoon of Friday, July 6. The annual banquet will take place on Thursday evening, July 5. To assure yourself a room in the headquarters hotel at convention rates, you must make reservations early. The hotel will be ready to take your call or deal with your written request by January 1.
Remember that as usual we need door prizes from state affiliates, local chapters, and individuals. Once again prizes should be small in size but large in value. Cash, of course, is always appropriate and welcome. As a general rule we ask that prizes of all kinds have a value of at least $25 and not include alcohol. Drawings will occur steadily throughout the convention sessions, and you can anticipate a grand prize of truly impressive proportions to be drawn at the banquet. You may bring door prizes with you or send them ahead of time (identifying the item and donor and listing the value in print and Braille) to Thelma Godwin, 1705 Paradiso Drive, N.E., Atlanta, Georgia 30307.
The best collection of exhibits, featuring new technology; meetings of our special interest groups, committees, and divisions; memorable tours arranged by the Georgia affiliate; the most stimulating and provocative program items of any meeting of the blind in the world; the chance to renew friendships in our Federation family; and the unparalleled opportunity to be where the real action is and where decisions are being made--all of these mean you will not want to miss being a part of the 2007 national convention. We'll see you in Atlanta in 2007!
For more than a decade
the Maxi-Aids Corporation, along with the family of companies that have been
created by Maxi-Aids’s principal, Elliot Zaretsky, has been featured in the
Monitor as an entity that would shave the truth, steal names and intellectual
material from others, and lie about its businesses and practices to capture
market share (See “Was It Swiss or Hong Kong: The Story of Maxi-Aids,” December
1994; “Summary and Brief Excerpts from the Trial,” March 1998; “On Ethics and
Maxi-Aids,” July 1998; “Department of Veterans Affairs Debars Maxi-Aids,” December
1999; “Maxi-Aids Exposed Again: ILA Files Contempt-of-Court Motion,” December
2001; “Elliot Zaretsky Visits the National Center for the Blind,” January/February
2002; “Maxi-Aids Exposed Again Part II: Able-Vision Established to Circumvent
the VA's Proposed Debarment,” January/February 2002; “Perkins School for the
Blind Sues Maxi-Aids,” July 2002; “Maxi-Aids Held in Contempt of Court,” May
2005; and “Maxi-Aids Held in Contempt of Court,” July 2005). Now we have a document
from Maxi-Aids which purports to be a report that somebody else has taken intellectual
property from Maxi-Aids. Given the long history of prevarication of Elliot Zaretsky,
one must look upon this latest document with a substantial degree of skepticism.
Nevertheless, the Maxi-Aids missive is clearly a threat—one which apparently
seeks to intimidate others into dropping lines of business that compete with
Maxi-Aids. Here is exactly what Elliot Zaretsky says, punctuation and usage
errors and all:
Farmingdale, New York
September 2006
To whom it may concern,
It has come to the attention of our Legal Department, that a company that was contracted by Maxi-Aids, has used manufacturing molds which were designed and paid for by Maxi-Aids for the expressed purpose of the production of Reizen products. These products have been re-produced without the permission or knowledge of Maxi-Aids and were sold on the open market to distributors and competitors. As this was done without the knowledge or permission of Maxi-Aids, it is a violation of our intellectual and material property rights.
Please see the included list of items as well as the pictures showing the products in question. If you have purchased these items from any reseller besides Maxi-Aids you must contact us immediately so we can let you know if the reseller is an authorized distributor of these products. If you have purchased products from an unauthorized reseller we will instruct you on the proper handling of this merchandise so as to avoid litigation.
Maxi-Aids will pursue all
legal avenues available in order to defend our material and intellectual property
and will seek damages from anyone including distributors who are either knowingly
or unknowingly in possession of merchandise that was obtained without our consent.
Very truly yours,
Elliot Zaretsky
President
This letter of Elliot Zaretsky's was apparently distributed far and wide. It
contains considerable irony along with allegations which seem to be false. Attached
to the letter is a sheet containing pictures of products associated with certain
legends. For example, one of the pictures is of a liquid level indicator. Tim
Cranmer, a member of the National Federation of the Blind, who died some years
ago, invented this liquid level indicator. He named it the "Say When."
Tim had this product manufactured in Kentucky. The National Federation of the
Blind was one of the principal distributors of Tim's Say Whens.
At one point in the history of the Say When, Maxi-Aids pirated the product. Later, when an administrative mix-up caused the copyright on the Say When name to lapse, Maxi-Aids appropriated this as well despite the prior use of the name. Both the name and the product have been taken from their inventor by Maxi-Aids. Maxi-Aids is now alleging that this is its own intellectual property.
Another of the pictures on the Maxi-Aids sheet is a set of dominoes. Maxi-Aids proclaims that it owns the intellectual property "Tactile Double Six Dominoes." My memory tells me that Maxi-Aids came into being in 1986. I was playing tactile six dot dominoes at the school for the blind in 1961. Sets of such dominoes could be purchased during the sixties and seventies. We in the National Federation of the Blind sell raised dot dominoes today. Inasmuch as we do not do business with Maxi-Aids, we got them from another supplier. Because we don't believe we can trust Maxi-Aids, we have adopted a policy not to do business with the company. We think Maxi-Aids's claim of intellectual ownership of this idea is complete idiocy or worse.
During the past dozen years or so, we have reported that Maxi-Aids has engaged in many forms of sharp practice. We do not believe that it is fair for us to be subject to intimidation, and we do not believe that the field of blindness is well served by the behavior of Maxi-Aids. Now Maxi-Aids is accusing others of stealing from it. The only comment that seems to fit is that Maxi-Aids should know. It takes one to know one.
An Address Delivered by
Kenneth Jernigan
President, National Federation of the Blind
At the Banquet of the Annual Convention
Minneapolis, July 3, 1980
From the Editor: Many of the seminal speeches of the Federation are
readily available for reading and study on our Web site. But I suspect that
very few of us take the time to reread them and remember the past and understand
our history.
In the closing month of 2006 we are reprinting President Jernigan’s memorable 1980 banquet address. He was looking back over forty years of Federation history and drawing important distinctions between the problems the organization faced at forty from those that had beset it in earlier days.
From the distance of more than a quarter century we may well find ourselves startled to remember or learn for the first time just how beleaguered the Federation was in 1980. The blindness world has indeed changed in the years since Dr. Jernigan’s report. The National Accreditation Council staggers along, more dead than alive, with a bit over half the number of agencies it had in 1980. The American Foundation for the Blind has retreated from its efforts to rule the field and frequently works fairly collegially with the organized blind. The American Council of the Blind meanders along, cursing the NFB and struggling with its financial difficulties. And no one even remembers the Affiliated Leadership League of and for the Blind. Considering the matter month-to-month, it is difficult to see progress. But rereading the 1980 banquet address, we can recognize it. With luck we will also gain the perspective to view the problems and challenges that face us today in a clearer light. Here is the speech:
Napoleon, in one of his more expansive moments, is said to have quipped: "History is merely a legend agreed upon." Queen Elizabeth I, reportedly squelched Mary Queen of Scots with the regal comment: "No, history will not vindicate you, for I will write it." In other words, according to this view, history is only a myth and a fable.
But there are those who think otherwise. A time-honored cliché proclaims, with almost mystic authority: "History repeats itself, and those who do not learn it are doomed to relive it." The very qualities which make this pronouncement so attractive are also the ones which make it so dangerous as a standard of conduct. Its slick phraseology and apparent logic divert attention from its oversimplification. History does, indeed, repeat itself—but never precisely and never exactly. There is always a new twist, a different nuance, an added element. For one thing, the past event itself (the one which is currently in the process of being repeated) is now a factor. Its former occurrence is part of the pattern. It has left its mark and skewed the picture. Those who fail to recognize this truth can never effectively learn the lessons of history. History can give us a sense of heritage and broaden our perspective; it can help us understand and cope with the present; and it can assist us in predicting the future.
Tonight (in July of 1980) we stand at the threshold of the fifth decade of our organization. As we look back to the past and call up our heritage so that we may deal with the present and plan for the future, let us bear in mind what the poet Tennyson said in the middle of the nineteenth century: "I am a part of all that I have met." Let us also remember that history has its cycles, its not quite repetitions, and its patterns and lessons for those who can read and understand.
When the blind came to
organize in 1940, the situation was as bleak as it could possibly be. It was
bright enough to create hope and dark enough to make that hope seem impossible.
Dr. Jacobus tenBroek, the brilliant scholar and constitutional lawyer who founded
our movement and led it for the first quarter century, summed up the early years
as only he could have done it:
The paramount problems of our first decade, the 1940's, [he said] were not so
much qualitative as quantitative: we had the philosophy and the programs, but
we lacked the membership and the means. The workers were few and the cupboard
was bare.
Each month as we received our none too bountiful salary as a young instructor at the University of Chicago Law School, Hazel and I would distribute it among the necessaries of life: food, clothing, rent, Federation stamps, mimeograph paper, ink, and other supplies. So did we share our one-room apartment. The mimeograph paper took far more space in our closet than did our clothes. We had to move the mimeograph machine before we could let down the wall bed to retire at night. If on a Sunday we walked along Chicago's lakefront for an hour, four or five fewer letters were written, dropping our output for that day to fewer than twenty-five.
The decade of the forties
was a time of building: and build we did, from a scattering of seven state affiliates
at our first convention to more than four times that number in 1950. In the
decade of the forties we proved our organizational capacity, established our
representative character, initiated legislative programs on the state and national
levels, and spoke with the authority and voice of the blind speaking for themselves.1
This is the way Dr. tenBroek summed up the first decade. The second decade,
the 1950's, was a time of both triumph and trouble. It began with hope and momentum.
It ended with internal strife and a civil war. By the midfifties we had forty-seven
state affiliates, money in the treasury, and power in the halls of Congress.
In the fifties we established our magazine, the Braille Monitor, and
began to outline to ourselves and to others the distinctive nature of what we
were and what we intended to be. By the end of the decade we were so divided
and demoralized that our very existence as a continuing and viable movement
seemed highly doubtful.
Dr. tenBroek recognized, as did the rest of us in that corps of leaders he trained in the fifties, that it was no mere accident or coincidence that our growing independence and influence were followed by furious attacks from without by the agencies and defections and strife from within by people who had been our colleagues in the movement. The governmental and private agencies (the American Foundation for the Blind, the sheltered shops, and the rehabilitation and social work establishment) had money and position and prestige. They used these resources lavishly—not as instruments to aid the blind but as weapons to fight us and to protect their vested interests. They intimidated, offered jobs and positions to our potential leaders, promised services and rewards, threatened reprisals, and did everything else in their power to break our spirit and crush our determination. They complained to the post office and tried to discredit our mailings and fund appeals. They exploited the vulnerability of blind vendors and sheltered shop workers. They coerced and promised and rewarded. The purpose was clear: it was nothing less than the complete and total destruction of the National Federation of the Blind. In the face of such pressure it is not surprising that strains developed from within—that what might, in normal times, have been minor problems of thwarted ambition or temperamental difference became major conflict and civil war.
That first tide of Federationism
and independence (which, during the fifties, lapped higher and higher up the
walls of the agency establishment and the bastions of custodialism and exclusion)
fell back upon itself at the end of the decade, spent and exhausted.
But the Federation did not die. The movement did not disintegrate. Too much
was at stake. Too many lives had been touched. The blind had, for the first
time in their existence, sensed the possibility of first-class status—and they
would simply not be denied. We knew (all of us—not just the leaders but also
the rank-and-file: the old, the young, the educated, the uneducated—everyone
of us) that what we had so painfully achieved must not be surrendered, that
self-organization (once lost) might not come again for a generation or a century.
Those of us who were left in the movement closed ranks, fought where we could,
encouraged each other, remembered our heritage, and marched toward the future.
We understood from first-hand experience what the black demonstrators meant
when they surrounded the factory gates and shouted with mingled hope and desperation:
I go to my grave.
Before I be a slave.
The decade of the sixties was almost the exact reverse of the fifties. It began
in despair and ended in triumph. The Federation drew itself together, shook
off the civil war, and began to rebuild. It was during the sixties that we lost
our great leader, Dr. tenBroek, but he had done his work well. The progress
continued. By the end of the decade we were bigger, stronger, better financed,
and more united than we had ever been.
Perhaps the sixties can
best be capsulized by the opening verse of our Battle Song, which was composed
in 1964. It is known by every Federationist:
Blind eyes have seen the vision of the Federation way;
New White Cane legislation brings the dawn of a new day;
Right of the blind to organize is truly here to stay;
Our cause goes marching on.
And our cause did go marching on, swinging into the seventies. And what a decade
it was! At the beginning of the seventies we were saying to the world, "We
know who we are"; and by the end we were confidently adding, "And
we will never go back!" In the seventies the tide of Federationism rose
higher than it had ever reached before—far beyond the peak of the fifties. It
was during this decade that we completed the transition from a scattered confederacy
to a single, united national movement—powerful, self-assured, and full of destiny.
We knew that whatever happened to the blind in the years ahead, the responsibility
was ours. Our future, for the first time in history, was in our own hands. Despite
the odds, we could do with it what we would. If we had the intelligence and
the guts, we could win first-class status and the full rights of citizenship.
We did not shrink from the challenge. We welcomed it. In fact, we demanded it.
Our declaration of independence and purpose left no doubt as to the course we
intended to follow. "We want no strife or confrontation," we said,
"but we will do what we have to do. We are simply no longer willing to
be second-class citizens. They tell us that there is no discrimination and that
the blind are not a minority; but we know who we are, and we will never go back!"
More and more in the seventies we discovered the truth about our heritage and history and drew strength and pride from what we learned. Our annual conventions were the largest meetings of blind persons ever held anywhere in the world, and (with affiliates in every state in the nation) we came universally to be recognized as the strongest force in the field of work with the blind.
Then the cycles of history began to assume familiar patterns. Superficially viewed, it was a second run of the 1950's. As our voice grew louder and our strength increased, so did the antagonism and fear on the part of the custodial agencies. As early as the mid-1960's, there were hints and signs of what was to come. The American Foundation for the Blind, seeing its influence diminishing, undertook a new tactic to tighten its loosening grip on the lives of the blind. It announced that it was establishing a so-called "independent" accrediting system for all groups doing work with the blind. As a first step, the Foundation appointed what it called the Commission on Standards and Accreditation of Services for the Blind (COMSTAC). The Commission was to hold meetings, appoint subcommittees, and arrive at a "consensus" for the entire field. Certain blind people (mostly agency officials or persons who were, as the saying goes, "unaffiliated" and, therefore, largely uninformed) were brought to the meetings; but tight control was carefully maintained.
When COMSTAC had finished
its work and written its documents, it appointed NAC (the National Accreditation
Council for Agencies Serving the Blind and Visually Handicapped). The accreditation
was, of course, to be purely voluntary and altogether impartial. The American
Foundation for the Blind provided NAC's first executive director, gave most
of the money, prepared to control our lives for at least the rest of the century,
declared the whole process democratic, and said it was all very "professional"—as,
indeed, in a way it was.
By the middle of the seventies it was clear that the principal issues of the
fifties were again to be put to the test. It was the old question: did we have
the right to run our own lives, or did the agencies have the right to do it
for us? As the decade advanced, the struggle exceeded in bitterness anything
which had ever before been seen in the field of work with the blind. Many of
the agencies worked with us and shared our aspirations, but others (the reactionary
custodians in the American Foundation-NAC combine) abandoned all but the shallowest
pretense of dignity and so-called "professionalism" and tried by brute
force to beat the blind into line. Especially did they concentrate their hatred
upon the National Federation of the Blind and its leaders.
But the 1970's were not the 1950's, and 1980 is not 1960. The custodial agencies we face today are not the agencies of twenty years ago, nor are we the blind of that generation. We are stronger and more knowledgeable than we were then, and the agencies which oppose us (of course, many do not) are more desperate, more frightened, and more shaken in their confidence. Even the most reactionary are now forced to give at least lip service to consumer participation and the rights of the blind.
1960 and 1980 have many similarities, but they also have distinct and significant differences. For one thing, the forces which oppose us today have (probably because of our greater strength and their greater desperation) combined in a closer alliance than was the case twenty years ago. Led by the American Foundation for the Blind, this alliance consists of NAC; our break-away splinter group, the American Council of the Blind; the Affiliated Leadership League of and for the Blind; and a handful of other would-be custodians and keepers. They have interlocked their boards, concerted their actions, pooled their hundreds of millions of dollars of publicly contributed funds and tax money, and undertaken the deliberate and calculated destruction of independent organization and self-expression on the part of the blind.
If what I say seems exaggerated,
consider a prime example right here in this city where we are meeting. Consider
the Minneapolis Society for the Blind and its president, Dick Johnstone. The
Minneapolis Society for the Blind accepts federal and state funds and solicits
charitable contributions from the public-at-large—all in the name of helping
the blind. Mr. Johnstone (the Society's president) supposedly serves without
any compensation whatsoever, purely as a matter of public service and civic
duty. Yet last fall at the NAC meeting in Oklahoma City, Mr. Johnstone made
a speech about the National Federation of the Blind (the largest organization
of blind people in this country—a group one would think he would particularly
love and cherish since his purpose is to help the blind and promote our interests).
Here are some of the things Mr. Johnstone said:
All NAC needs now is a few more teeth—and the money to apply them. Money can
come to NAC—the same way it was lost: with pressure! ... NAC has a policy right
now, in hand, ready to go. They can help you in any problems with the NFB without
board action. Dr. Bleeker [NAC's executive director] has that authority, right
now, unlike other agencies who have had to fiddle around and go to their boards.
Believe me, the Minneapolis Society for the Blind is going to have a policy
the same way: any help you need, you'll get it out of us ... Anything we needed
[from NAC] we got ... One thing we did learn, and we have researched this a
little; and I hope you will, too, to prove it to yourselves: fight! ... Negotiate?
Never! ... The only thing the National Federation of the Blind respects is strength.
The power is with us right now, if we will use our heads and use it. If we unite
and help one another, as you united to help us, we can't lose ... It's time
we go on the offensive, quit hiding our heads in the sand ... Programs and agencies
banding together in strength can only secure success for NAC and all other legitimate
agencies ... The National Federation of the Blind is going to come back and
fight harder than ever, now. The pressure is on us, the legitimate blind, to
counter the new attacks that are sure to come....
How does one account for this bitter tirade? Is this the talk of a dedicated
volunteer working devotedly for a "professional" service agency, which
has only the well-being of the blind at heart? And what does he mean by the
"legitimate blind?" Is Mr. Johnstone (in addition to damning our morals
and denying our right to exist) also questioning our paternity? This is not
the language of service and love, but of slander and war. It smacks of dark
alleys, blackjacks, and hoodlumism. Why?
Perhaps the answer is not so difficult after all. Possibly there is a perfectly plausible explanation, one which may explain not only the conduct of Mr. Johnstone and the Minneapolis Society for the Blind but also the behavior of many of the others who attack and condemn us with such spleen and irrational hatred.
First let us consider Mr.
Johnstone personally—this dedicated, unpaid volunteer. He has been president
of the Minneapolis Society for the Blind for many years. The Minneapolis
Daily American in its June 2, 1972, edition carried an article headlined:
"Charity Group Refuses to Talk/Blind Are Being Kept in the Dark/President
of Non-Profit Society Given Whopping Contract." The article says in part:
The Minneapolis Society for the Blind has refused to answer questions regarding
bids on a federally assisted construction project.
The question arose when the Daily American learned that Richard Johnstone,
president of the Society, also is president of the South Side Plumbing and Heating
Company, which has the mechanical contract on the project....
Frank A. Church, a U.S.
official in the Chicago office of the Department of Health, Education and Welfare,
said that "special problems" are raised if a member of the board bids
on such a contract.
Perhaps the fact that we of the National Federation of the Blind exposed and
publicized this situation helps explain Mr. Johnstone's attitude toward us.
Some professionalism! Some volunteer! It may also help explain the attitude
of the Minneapolis Society in general. But there is more: in the early 1970's
the Minneapolis Society for the Blind had a thirty-member board of directors,
none of whom was blind. According to the by-laws anybody who made a cash contribution
was, thereby, a member. When the blind tried to become members, the board of
the Society declared that all members were expelled and that, in the future,
nobody would be considered a member except those on the board. As Federationists
know, we took the matter to court in the early 1970's; and after some seven
years of battle and delay, we forced the Minneapolis Society to abide by the
state law and honor the provisions of its own articles of incorporation. The
courts made the Society accept blind members and hold an election. The issue
is still not finished and awaits further action by the courts. Is it surprising
that Mr. Johnstone and the Minneapolis Society hate us and wish we would cease
to exist? Not really.
But there is still more. There is the Kettner case. Lawrence Kettner was "evaluated" so that the Society could get an exemption and wiggle out of paying him the federal minimum wage. To say the least, the "evaluation" was unusual. Kettner was evaluated over a period of fourteen days, but the studies of his work were made only on the third, fourth, sixth, and eighth days. His duties were changed, the equipment was faulty, and there were delays in bringing him supplies. Even so, Kettner's productivity increased markedly (from 49 percent of normal production to 79 percent), showing the unfairness of not giving him time studies after the eighth day of the fourteen day period. He says he was called into the director's office and badgered into signing a statement that he was capable of only 75 percent of normal production. He says he was told he would not be paid for the work he had done if he did not sign. He needed the money. He signed. Even as this was happening, he secured a job in private industry at a rate above the minimum wage.
We publicized the Kettner case far and wide, and we told the Department of Labor about it. Yes, I think I can understand why Mr. Johnstone and the Minneapolis Society for the Blind hate the organized blind movement—and it has nothing to do with so-called high-toned "professionalism." It is a matter of money and cover-up and exploitation. It is as simple and as despicable as that.
As to Mr. Johnstone's statement concerning the "legitimate blind," I would say this: he is not blind, so I do not see how that part applies; and as to the question of legitimacy, I would think (in the circumstances) the Minneapolis Society for the Blind would not want to discuss it. The matter of unblemished paternity is a sensitive issue. So much, then, for Mr. Johnstone and his talk about the "legitimate blind."
But what about the others who attack us, the others in the American Foundation for the Blind-NAC combine? Are their reasons for hating us similar to those of Mr. Johnstone and his Minneapolis Society? Let us call them off and examine their "legitimacy." First, the Cleveland Society for the Blind. It is locked in a battle with blind snack bar operators. In 1972 the director of the Society told the blind operators that they must contribute specified amounts to the United Torch Campaign or face dismissal. Under the Federal Randolph-Sheppard Program, Ohio was authorized to take as a service charge no more than 3 percent from the gross earnings of operators, but the Cleveland Society was taking 8 percent. This could amount to as much as half of the net earnings of an operator. Moreover, as a condition of employment each blind operator was forced to sign an agreement giving the Cleveland Society unbelievable power over his or her personal life. The operator had to agree (and I quote) to: "have an annual physical check-up; eat a balanced diet; obtain adequate rest commensurate with the hours to be worked at a snack bar; bathe daily; shampoo frequently; use appropriate deodorants; wear clean underclothing; and wear comfortable shoes."
We in the Federation (at least, most of us do) believe in regular bathing and good personal hygiene, but we are not willing (as a condition of employment) to have somebody cram it down our throats—tell us how much rest to get, what kind of food to eat, what kind of deodorants to use, and when to change our underwear. In the newspapers the director of the Cleveland Society defended his rules by saying that "Blind people have to be especially careful."
And, of course, he is right.
We do have to be careful—of people like him. We (you and I, the National Federation
of the Blind) took this director and his custodial agency to court and publicized
what he was doing. The battle still continues. Is it any wonder that the Cleveland
Society for the Blind and its director hate the organized blind movement and
wish we would cease to exist? Not really. Yet, they tell us that there is no
discrimination and that the blind are not a minority; but we know who we are,
and we will never go back.
The Cincinnati Association for the Blind and the Houston Lighthouse for the
Blind have refused to comply with orders from the National Labor Relations Board
that they permit their blind workers to organize. We stimulated those organizing
efforts and are now fighting these two agencies in the federal courts. Is it
surprising that they hate us and brand us as "militants" and "trouble-makers?"
Not at all. How could it be otherwise?
The Chicago Lighthouse for the Blind used every tactic it could (including the firing of blind organizers) to prevent blind employees from forming a union. We took the matter to the National Labor Relations Board, and we picketed. It is hardly necessary to add that the Chicago Lighthouse is a principal leader in the combine which attacks us. We picketed the Evansville Association for the Blind and told the public what the Association was doing (all in the name of charity, and with publicly contributed funds) to exploit and hurt blind people. We picketed the Columbia Lighthouse for the Blind in Washington, D.C., when it was having a gala charity ball attended by leading socialites. We told these socialites and the public-at-large how the Lighthouse really operates and what it is doing to the lives of blind people. Agency officials in Florida and Alabama have been criminally indicted. All of these groups (the Minneapolis Society for the Blind, the Cleveland Society, the Cincinnati Association, the Houston Lighthouse, the Chicago Lighthouse, the Evansville Association, the Columbia Lighthouse, and the Alabama and Florida agencies) have two things in common: they exploit the blind, and they are all accredited by NAC.
Then there is New York—New York, the home territory and the special turf of the American Foundation for the Blind and NAC. In 1978 there was a state audit of Industries for the Blind of New York, Inc. The audit showed that this organization (which was the principal governmental procurement agency for blind-made products in the state) spent its money on liquor and lavish parties and expensive cars and high salaries and God knows what else which the average human being would consider to be totally unrelated to the welfare of the blind. And what is Industries for the Blind of New York, Inc.? Well, it is a board consisting of the representatives of ten agencies, seven of which are accredited by NAC. They are flagships in the NAC fleet. Wesley Sprague, director of the New York Association for the Blind, is (of all things) the longtime chairman of NAC's Commission on Standards. Joseph Larkin, director of the Industrial Home for the Blind of Brooklyn, is a NAC board member. Peter Salmon, the Industrial Home's former director, is NAC's past president.
There are some five hundred organizations and groups in this country which might conceivably choose to be accredited by NAC. Yet by January of 1980 (a decade and a half after its formation) NAC was forced to admit that it had only seventy-nine agencies in its fold. But let me hasten to add that these are very special agencies. Our best information indicates that they probably have a total combined wealth of somewhere in the neighborhood of a half a billion dollars. Think about it—half a billion dollars! A few of them may truly be service-oriented and dedicated to high standards and the best interests of the blind—but there are the others, the ones that Mr. Johnstone would presumably call the "legitimate blind." I have detailed for you the conduct of sixteen of these. Sixteen! More than 20 percent of NAC's entire membership. And there is evidence which could be brought against many of the rest. NAC: what a sorry, miserable spectacle! It is not a concern for "professionalism" which is the bur under the saddle of some of these people. It is the fear that we may expose their real concerns: the making of money, the lapping of liquor, the lust for luxury, and the push for power.
No, it is not surprising that the American Foundation for the Blind-NAC combine hates us and that they are determined to destroy the National Federation of the Blind. We are the principal threat to their master plan—their effort to gain complete control over the lives of every blind man, woman, and child in this nation—their hope to live happily in luxury ever after. To speak of "legitimacy" in the same breath with NAC is reminiscent of what Franklin Roosevelt said in 1936 about mentioning the Depression in the presence of the Republican Party. It is like showing a rope to the family of a man who has been hanged.
As I have already said, there are both similarities and differences between the 1950's and the 1970's—between 1960 and 1980. In the fifties the external attacks brought severe internal conflict. In the late seventies we saw some of the same tendencies—but even though the pressures have been greater this time around, the dissension among us has been minimal, giving testimony to our increased strength and maturity as a movement. We are a part of all that we met in the 1950's. We learned—and history does not quite repeat itself.
There is also a new element, one which was not present twenty years ago. In the fifties we had not yet become strong enough to get very many of our own people appointed to positions of leadership in the agencies. By the seventies the situation was different. In 1976 and 1977 we came within a vote or two of having a majority in the National Council of State Agencies for the Blind. A number of our own members had been named as state directors, and many of the other state directors were and are supportive of our cause.
However, there was a problem, one from which we must learn. Just because an individual calls himself or herself a Federationist, that does not necessarily mean that he or she is immune to the temptations of agency power—the ability to control lives and the urge to equate one's own interests with those of the blind consumers. Increasingly in the seventies we became strong enough to bring reform to a growing number of agencies and to play a deciding role in determining who their directors would be. Quite naturally, our people (having suffered so grievously from the poor service and custodial treatment dished out by the agencies) wanted to have Federationists as directors. Sometimes we made bad choices. It was almost as if, out of reaction to the miserable service we had received, we said: "Give us a Federationist—any Federationist—just so long as we can throw off the yoke of what we have had." It was a mistake—one for which we are now paying.
Some of these so-called Federationists had hardly been appointed to office before they tried to take over the affiliates in their states and make them mere auxiliaries and fronts for their own vested interests. They put aside their loyalties and principles and seemed to forget that they had obtained their jobs as part of a national movement—the overall struggle of the blind as a people to be free. They forgot (if, indeed, they had ever truly believed) what it is that has brought us as far as we have come on the road to first-class status and the full rights of citizenship. No individual or state organization—no local group or single person—could have done it alone. It required the combined effort of us all. It still requires that combined effort if we are to finish the journey. In its absence none of us (not a single blind human being) will go the rest of the way to equality and freedom. We should have been more selective in supporting candidates for agency leadership—but we are a part of all that we have met. We have learned. Fortunately we are strong enough to absorb the shock of the lesson. We will not make the same mistake again.
In the future the primary test of whether we will support an individual for a position of leadership in an agency will not be whether that person is called a Federationist but what kind of philosophy and commitment the individual demonstrates. Of course, this has always been our concern, but the emphasis is now different and the care more thorough. Better a neutral (one with the basics of a good philosophy, who is willing to work with us in partnership to win our support) than a Federationist in name only (one who takes it for granted that, because of his or her reputation as a Federationist—even a strong Federationist—we will automatically be supportive, regardless of the agency's conduct or behavior). We have come too far on the road of liberation to turn back now. We are not willing to exchange one master for another, even if the new would-be custodian has been our colleague or uses the name "Federationist." We will say it as often as we must: we want no strife or confrontation, but we will do what we have to do. They tell us that the blind are not a minority and that there is no discrimination; but we know who we are, and we will never go back.
As Federationists know,
I get a constant stream of letters from blind people from all over the country.
Some of these letters are highly literate. Others are not. Taken together, they
show the pattern and give the details of what it is like to be blind in America
today. They tell of the hopes and aspirations and problems which the blind confront.
I want to share with you a brief passage from one of these letters. It is from
a woman in her early fifties. In page after page she cries out with the heartache
of a life of frustration. Here is part of what she says:
I went to the state rehabilitation agency because I was seeking employment.
I believe I was referred there by the employment service. I couldn't understand
why no one wanted to hire me. The reason given most frequently was lack of experience.
But I was young. "How does one get that experience?" I kept asking
myself. And the rehabilitation agency could do nothing to help me. I am sure
that each employer I saw felt that I should get my experience someplace else....
This part of her letter refers to her early twenties. When she comes to the
present (the time of her early fifties) she says:
The rehabilitation agency can still do nothing to help me. My efforts to obtain
employment are the same continuing story. I won't drag it out any further except
to say that I have met with repeated failure. I haven't enough skill to get
a typing job, and apparently I haven't the training or skill (or is it that
I can't get the opportunity?) to do anything else. I never have enough experience
to compete, but as was the case when I was young, how can I get that experience
if no one will give me a chance to try? And (now that I am in my fifties) who
is going to give me the chance to try with my lack of experience?
I feel already as though
I am in forced retirement. I shudder to think how the actual retirement years
will be. I am not sure where to go from here—whether I should try to change
my life, or merely be resigned to the fact that this is probably how it will
be from now on.
I am sure that my story is not new to you. You must hear something like it almost
every day. Perhaps you can measure my despair by the number of pages in this
letter. I see my life ebbing away, and I have yet to find my niche to occupy.
This inactivity and lack of a life's work is not how I would choose to spend
what is left of my productive years. I dreamed of the future when I was young.
Now I look around me sometimes and say, "Dear God, this is the future."
I'm living it now. Perhaps it is the only future I will ever have.
How can I answer such a letter? What can I say to ease the burden or lighten
the load? Day by day the hope has been killed, the spirit has been crushed,
and the dream destroyed. Yet NAC and Mr. Johnstone tell us that all will be
well if we will only leave it to them and their agencies. All they need, they
say, is a few more teeth—and enough money to crush the NFB. How twisted! How
pathetic! In their luxury and so-called "professionalism" they do
not even know of the existence of the deprivation and the misery—of the daily
struggles and problems of the ordinary blind individual.
As we stand at the door of the fifth decade of our organization, we must thoroughly understand the lessons of history, for the eighties will be a time of trial and decision. They will require all that we have in the way of ability and devotion and courage. We must work not only for ourselves but also for the blind of the next generation, for they are our children. If not biologically, they are surely morally our children, and we must make certain that they have the chance for better lives and fuller opportunities than we have had.
When we talk of history,
we usually think of the past—but what will future historians say of us—of you
and me—of the National Federation of the Blind in 1980? What will they say of
our struggle for freedom and our battle with NAC, the American Foundation for
the Blind, and the other custodial agencies? As I said in 1973, future historians
can only record the events which we make come true.
They can help us be remembered, but they cannot help us dream. That we must
do for ourselves. They can give us acclaim, but not guts and courage. They can
give us recognition and appreciation, but not determination or compassion or
good judgment. We must either find those things for ourselves or not have them
at all.
We have come a long way together in this movement. Some of us are veterans, going back to the forties; others are new recruits, fresh to the ranks. Some are young; some are old. Some are educated, others not. It makes no difference. In everything that matters we are one; we are the movement; we are the blind....
If we falter or dishonor
our heritage, we will betray not only ourselves but those who went before us
and those who come after. But, of course, we will not fail. Whatever the cost,
we shall pay it. Whatever the sacrifice, we shall make it. We cannot turn back
or stand still. Instead, we must go forward.2
We shall prevail against NAC and the other custodial agencies; we shall prevail
against social exclusion and discrimination; and we shall prevail against those
few in our own movement who would destroy it with bitterness and strife. We
are stronger and more determined now than we have ever been, and we have learned
well the lessons of history. My brothers and my sisters, the future is ours.
Come! Join me in the battle line, and we will make it all come true.
FOOTNOTES
1. Dr. Jacobus tenBroek, "The Federation at Twenty-Five: Postview and Preview,"
August, 1965, Braille Monitor, pp. 87 and 88.
2. Dr. Kenneth Jernigan, "Blindness: Is History Against Us?" September, 1973, Braille Monitor, pp. 10 and 11.
An Overview of Planned Giving
Making a charitable gift is one of the most satisfying experiences in life. Each year millions of people contribute their time, talent, and treasure to charitable organizations. When you plan for a gift to the National Federation of the Blind, you are not just making a donation; you are leaving a legacy that insures a future for blind people throughout the country. Here are some of the special giving programs available through the National Federation of the Blind.
The National Federation of the Blind is a service organization specializing in providing the help to blind people that is not readily available to them from government programs or other existing service systems. The services of the NFB are specially designed to meet the needs of all blind people. By maintaining a widespread campaign of public education, advocating for the rights of blind children and their families, administering scholarship and mentoring programs for blind youth, providing financial and other specialized assistance, conducting seminars on blindness, evaluating and developing accessible technology, and providing information and services to senior citizens so that they can adjust to vision loss and live more accessible and independent lives, the NFB is changing what it means to be blind.
We will be happy to provide you with further information about the National Federation of the Blind or any of these giving opportunities. Please call or write us at:
National Federation of
the Blind
Department of Outreach Programs
1800 Johnson Street
Baltimore, MD 21230
(410) 659-9314, ext. 2406
outreach@nfb.org
by Gail Snider
From the Editor: Gail Snider is a longtime Federationist who lives in the Washington, D.C., area. As you will soon learn, she is an energetic amateur musician and actor. She is always eager to learn and to take up new challenges. She says that she knows that many other blind people are active in community theater, but I suspect many more of us would like to be but have never quite dared to try out. So here is Gail’s story of her life in amateur theater. If you have always had a yen to tread the boards, maybe her experience will inspire you to give community theater a whirl. This is what she says:
When I was nine years old, I played the Queen of Hearts in a school production of Alice in Wonderland. I don’t remember most of my lines, but I know I put lots of energy into the queen’s signature line: “Off with his head!” Fast-forward to November 2006 when I will appear as Rebecca Nurse in a local theater production of The Crucible, Arthur Miller’s historical drama about the Salem witch trials of 1692.
So what happened in between, and what have I learned from it? As a child in England, I attended schools for the blind until I was sixteen, when I was given the chance to attend my local public school. At elementary and high school level, I participated in a number of dramatic and musical productions because, well, we all did. As far as I can remember, no elite group of students were selected because of extraordinary talent: being in a play, like singing in a Christmas carol concert, was just part of a well-rounded education. Also the part you got didn’t depend on whether you were totally or partially blind: in a production of Peter Pan in which I was one of Tinkerbell’s fairy companions, I had to run across the stage as if I were flying. I had some sight then, but Peter and Tinkerbell did not, and they did even more flying about the stage than I did.
At university, as I recall, I was more active in choral groups but still took part in funny skits when they came my way. I never auditioned for the university’s drama group, possibly because I wasn’t an English major but also, probably, because I felt my blindness would disqualify me.
In 1977, two years after my family and I came to live in Washington, D.C., I was introduced to the British Embassy Players by an Englishwoman who was already a member and a volunteer with the local radio reading service. She told me that the B.E.P. was auditioning readers for the Bible reading that would be the climax of their upcoming “Christmas with the Players” show. I had always been a good Braille reader, so I auditioned with a Braille copy of St. Luke’s Gospel and got the job. By this time I was completely blind and could not see even the footlights, never mind my fellow actors, but that didn’t seem to matter; I sat in one spot for the entire show, except when standing to sing alto in the carols and other chorus numbers.
Since then I have taken part in other “Christmas with the Players” shows and done some humorous monologues and sung the occasional solo, both of which required me to do more than just stand in one place. Sighted performers convey a lot with body language—hand gestures, head movements, and facial expressions—which we as blind people often don’t acquire or think to use in daily life. On the stage, however, we want to be as interesting to look at as we are to listen to, so I have made a point of learning what gestures, movements, and expressions are most likely to enhance my performance. I have found that a same-sex relative (such as my daughter) can be most helpful in giving useful tips in this situation.
After my marriage ended in 1994, I checked the Auditions column in the Washington Post and found that the Washington Revels’ Christmas show that year would be about Victorian London and that performers with British accents would be welcome. When I arrived, the stage manager helped me fill out the application form, and an assistant director took me into a side room, where he taught me some lines from the show so I could perform them like everyone else. I hammed it up shamelessly for the selection panel and made them laugh, so I guess I wasn’t too surprised to get a part. In addition to acting, everyone had to audition for singing (solo and group) and dancing. I had learned ballroom and country dancing at school in England, and although I am not a great dancer, I don’t have two left feet; in fact, I’m willing to bet that most blind guys can dance if they get the chance to learn.
In the late nineties I started attending classes to improve myself as a stage performer. I attended seminars on voice production and care of the voice, as well as one on how to prepare for an audition. This seminar was especially helpful since it was given by two directors who explained that you never can tell exactly what a director wants from you or sees in you. For instance, you may fail simply because your height or build is not considered right for the part, or you may succeed because you alone have that indefinable quality that the director is looking for. When you understand this, all you can do—and all you have to do—is prepare and audition as well as you can. That doesn’t mean that all my auditions have been successful: I have bombed disastrously a few times, either because I was ill-prepared or because I let my own anxieties get in the way. Now I just get myself together, show up, and don’t worry about trying to second-guess the director.
In 1997 I joined the Paradigm Players, an integrated group of performers, some of whom had physical or developmental disabilities. The atmosphere was very nurturing as we all learned from each other and accommodated each other wherever necessary. We staged Godspell in 1997 and Working in 1998, two musicals that call for a fairly large ensemble, in which most performers are in the chorus except when they have a featured solo. In Working, for example, I had a monologue and a solo song as the schoolteacher, and elsewhere in the show I could be seen with mop and bucket as one of a group of housewives or dining in a restaurant with my boyfriend.
At about this time I somehow got on to the mailing list of the Theatre Lab, a nonprofit school of the dramatic arts that provides theater education for diverse populations, including youth, seniors, and prisoners, and attracts both professional and volunteer performers. Twice I have taken their twelve-week class, Creating A Musical Role, which results in several public performances of a full-length Broadway musical. My first was Ragtime, in which I was a very active member of the chorus and had to take on such diverse roles as a male juror, a female Jewish immigrant, a male baseball spectator, and a female upper-class neighbor. I had only one spoken line—as a bureaucrat—but there was so much singing and dancing that I was busy almost the whole time.
The second Creating-a-Musical-Role class I took was this year’s production of Fiddler on the Roof in which I played Yente, the matchmaker. Again I did not know the part when I auditioned, but the directors taught me some lines and laughed when I performed them. This led me to think that I was supposed to just play for laughs, but our directors taught us that our characters had hearts, minds, lives, and concerns which deserved to be portrayed accurately and respectfully. Thus I was able to create a role that had real depth and still get some laughs.
In other years my theatrical endeavors have left me feeling drained and anxious to get back to less strenuous pursuits such as choral singing, but my Fiddler experience left me wanting more, so I went back to the Washington Post and learned that the Foundry Players, a sixty-year-old community theater group based three blocks from where I live, was presenting The Crucible this November. As luck would have it, I was able to get a WebBraille copy embossed in time for the audition. Luck was also on my side when it turned out that the director had already seen me in Fiddler, so I did not have to worry that he wouldn’t give me a fair shot. When I showed up with my Braille copy of the script, it turned out to be a different edition from the one that everyone else was using, so one of the younger actors sat down with me during a break and read the changes into my tape recorder.
Now we are in the tedious process of blocking, in which the director moves us around the stage like chessmen on a chessboard until he decides where we should stand, sit, or go at any given moment during the play. This is tedious because directors try one thing and then another and then another before they make up their minds, so there is no point in trying to memorize one’s own stage directions right away. This used to bother me, but now I just go with the flow, knowing that things will work out fine in the end.
I have had my doubts about being totally blind on stage, but I don’t have such doubts anymore. One reason is that my directors have always been ready and willing to make accommodations such as ensuring that a fellow actor is nearby when I have to enter or leave by the steps leading on and offstage. Also providing me with an escort for certain key movements around the stage isn’t nearly as obtrusive as it sounds: it can prevent a nasty accident and an unintended spectacle! One time when I did fall over a piece of furniture during a fast-moving sequence in Ragtime, I felt bad because my family members were watching, but my daughter told me afterwards that several people had fallen, including the music director.
Another concern at times has been getting the script in an accessible format, and here again I have been quite lucky. As an employee of Services for the Visually Impaired, I have had access, not only to Braille-embossing equipment, but also to colleagues who know how to use it. In this regard I am especially grateful to Judy and Lloyd Rasmussen and to Patty Droppers, without whose help and expertise I would not have accomplished what I have so far.
Finally in writing this article, I have felt awkward about writing about myself as if I were special or outstanding when I know I’m not. If I can claim credit for anything, it is that I have been bold enough (or crazy enough) to take opportunities that presented themselves to me. So, when I am tempted to ask: Why me?, maybe I should simply say: Why not me? And, come to think of it, why not you?
by Steven Booth, Mike Tindell, and Anne Taylor
From the Editor: Anne Taylor is the manager of the International Braille and Technology Center for the Blind (IBTC) of the National Federation of the Blind Jernigan Institute. Steve Booth and Mike Tindell are both access technology specialists on the IBTC staff. If you can’t afford a Kurzweil-National Federation of the Blind Reader and you don’t have a computer, reader software, and an optical character recognition scanner, one of the readers reviewed in the following article may be just what you are looking for. Read on.
How many times have you
been expecting a letter, but when a plausible envelope arrived, you wondered,
“Is this it or something else?” How many times has a new book been released
that you really want to read without waiting until it has been recorded? If
you do not use a computer with a scanner and software for reading print documents
aloud, one excellent tool for dealing with such tasks independently is a stand-alone
reading machine. In this article we will discuss four commonly used reading
machines: the Portset, the SARA, the ScannaR, and the Extreme Reader XR10. Each
unit has built-in internal speakers, a flatbed scanner, a hard drive for storing
data, and a control panel or small keyboard. Because no computer skills are
needed, many people find a stand-alone reading machine easy to use.
The Portset Reader
Reviewed by Steven Booth
The Portset Reader consists of one rectangular unit that sits on any flat surface and measures approximately 18.5 by 10.5 by 4.5 inches. It comes with an AC power cord, which plugs into the rear of the unit, and a set of headphones. These three pieces comprise the entire machine. Weighing just under twelve pounds, it is one of the lightest stand-alone reading systems. On the top of the reader is the scanning surface with the scanner cover hinged at the back. The scanner surface can handle paper which is 8.5 by 11 inches or the somewhat larger, A4 pages (which are not as large as legal-size paper and common in the United Kingdom). The Portset Reader has a built-in 3.5-inch disk drive for extra file storage.
The Portset will detect page orientation, so printed pages can be placed either upside down or right side up in relation to the user. Additionally, pages can be placed toward either the back or the front of the scanner and along either the right or left edge. To begin, lift the cover and place a page or a book flat on the scanner, reading-side down. If both pages of a book will fit, the top of the book must be toward the right side of the reader so that the pages will be read in the correct order.
The on/off power switch is at the back of the Reader. To operate the Portset, locate the keys on the panel on the front side of the rectangular unit. They are tilted slightly upward for easy navigation. The keys consist of the scan/read key, which is larger than the other keys and is at the left side of the panel. To the right of the scan/read key is an arrow pad with four keys arranged with one key on top and three keys on the bottom row, as on a computer keyboard. Each key has a raised line at the edge which helps define its function such as up, down, left, or right. These four keys are used for reading and selecting items. To the right of this group of keys is another group of six keys across a top row and one key below. The top row of six keys has three keys, then a space, then another three keys. From left to right they are called key 1 through key 6. In the first set of three keys, under keys 1 and 2, is the function key, which is larger than keys 1 through 6. It performs no action when pressed by itself. When pressed in combination with other keys, it provides additional functions for the other keys. On the right side of the front panel is a rotary dial volume control. The unit also has a headphone jack for private listening.
When first turned on, the system beeps to let the user know it is loading the program. After about thirty seconds you hear a brief set of tones and an introductory message, and status messages tell you what scanning selections are in effect and which voices are being used. (More on these later.) The system is ready to use after it says "Reader ready." To scan the page or book, place it face down on the scanner and press the scan/read key. You will hear the scanner move down the page and messages telling you that the reader is scanning and then conducting recognition. When finished, the ready-to-read message sounds, and the machine will begin reading the document automatically. While reading, you can pause reading by pressing key 6. You can use the arrow keys to move up or down the lines or sentence-by-sentence (automatically stopping at punctuation marks). The Reader provides extensive help messages at each stage, and its user guide is available both on the system and in print.
Functions can change both the voice and the speed of the voice. Nine voice speeds are available with three voices for American English and additional voices for British English. Consult your dealer to find out what other languages are available and can be installed when you order a Portset.
Files can be stored in the Reader for reading later. If a document contains multiple pages, all the pages may be appended while scanning and reading. This means that the saved file will read back as a continuous document without page breaks. If you prefer, each page may be saved or deleted.
The Portset Reader has several modes of operation. Settings can be modified to scan printed pages containing columns or to allow the user to scan across the page to assist in reading bills and memos. The scanner brightness and contrast may be changed, which is necessary when documents are of poor quality.
I found while testing a
Portset Reader on multiple documents that occasionally the Reader would not
respond to key pressing if I did not listen all the way to the end of a status
message. Once that message had finished speaking, however, the keys would again
respond.
Recognition is good when the settings match the documents. However, I found
I frequently had to change scanner settings for contrast and brightness to accommodate
different kinds of documents. Therefore some practice is needed to become familiar
with the use of the function key and the modes of operation. With a bit of practice
most people will be able to use this system for general reading. Its light weight
and reasonably small size make it possible to move it around a home or office
as necessary. Because it is housed in one unit, there are no cables other than
the AC power cord to connect and disconnect.
If you want a relatively
easy reader with the ability to modify settings, the Portset may be for you.
Manufactured by Portset Systems in England, it is available in the United States
from Technologies for the Visually Impaired, 9 Nolan Court, Hauppauge, New York
11788; (631) 724-4479; toll-free (866) 689-5672; Web site <http://www.tvi-web.com>;
<tvii@optonline.net>. Current Sale Price: $2,595.
SARA
Reviewed by Mike Tindell
The SARA (which stands for Scanning And Reading Appliance) is a stand-alone reading machine. The dimensions of the rectangular SARA are 20 inches long by 12 inches wide by 3.5 inches deep. It weights about eighteen pounds. It has a 60 GB hard drive, a CD/DVD burner for storing files, and a slot for playing a CD. You can connect it to a television or to a computer to save and view scanned images in large type. The unit has front-mounted stereo speakers and a built-in microphone for recording file names of the materials you scan and save. Across the top is the flatbed scanner. On the front of the device is a jack for connecting headphones or stereo speakers. The SARA works well for scanning hardback and paperback books, saving the files, then reading them aloud on command. Forty public domain books are preloaded in SARA for your reading pleasure. The buttons, although numerous, are large and easy to find. All menu items and choices are spoken aloud. As software updates are available for the SARA, they are provided on DVD with instructions.
The front of the machine has two steps, first a small rise, then a large rise to the flatbed scanner across the top. The vertical front of the first step has seven buttons. The tread (if the machine were a staircase) is slightly tilted and has eleven buttons. The riser of the next step has speakers on the left and right with a slot for a CD between them and one button above the slot for ejecting the CD.
Rotate the machine so that the back faces you. On the far left is a power supply connector. Moving to the right, you find a TV Out connector for viewing scanned images on a television. To its right the VGA port connects a computer monitor.
Returning to the front side, the riser of the first stair (the one closest to the user) has seven buttons. From left to right these are power button, volume (rock left to decrease volume and right to increase volume), four user-assignable function keys, and a voice-rate rocker switch (to adjust the speed of the speech). At the right-hand end is a hole for the headset jack.
The slanted surface of the first tread has two buttons to the left and two to the right of a central group of seven buttons for navigation. The scan button is located on the far left and above the read/pause button. To the far right is the menu button above the help button. The navigation section has a select button in the middle of arrow keys for up, down, left, and right. A raised line on each button indicates its direction. To the left of the left arrow button is the rewind button. Similarly, to the right of the right arrow button is the fast-forward button. The rewind and fast-forward buttons have double raised lines showing their direction.
Press the scan button to start and stop scanning. Press the read button to start and stop reading. The menu key is used to enter and exit menus.
Here are some of the ways to use this reading machine. When pressed, the scan button, located on the top left of the unit, scans a page, processes the text, then reads it aloud. SARA has a mode called “scan in background” that allows the user to scan several pages while the unit is reading other pages. This is not the default mode when the scanner is unpacked. The double arrow keys, both left and right, can be disabled or can be set to take the user forward or backward by sentence, paragraph, or page. The up and down arrow keys move line by line, and the left and right arrows move word by word. The select button speaks a word when pressed once, spells a word when pressed twice, and spells the word phonetically when pressed three times. The help key is a key describer that announces the function of each key (press the help key then any other key to hear its function).
When you press the menu
key, you are at the file menu. Here you can open files, burn files to CD, save
or erase files from the hard drive, open and close documents, and create blank
documents. Press down arrow to locate the go to menu. This option allows the
user to go to the top and bottom of documents, next and previous page, next
and previous paragraph, and next and previous sentence.
SARA has a DAISY feature. It will play all three DAISY formats, audio CD, MP3,
Wave, and CDA files. It can open files in the doc, xml, rtf, and txt formats.
The voice settings menu allows a user to change the voice rate and choose from
a selection of voices. Different settings can be chosen for the menu and reading
voices. If the text is written in English, Spanish, French, or German, SARA
can read the text in those languages. For others it is best to contact the dealer
to check for availability.
In the scanning settings menu the user can choose among ignore or divide columns, scan-and-read mode, scan-in-background mode, or scan-and-replace mode. If the user makes a mistake and begins scanning a page which is not the next page in order in a book or multi-page document, the command to scan-and-replace will replace the last page scanned with the next page scanned, and the user can continue scanning correctly from that point.
SARA works well for those who use large print. You can attach the SARA to a computer monitor or television. In the visual settings menu you can choose any one of seven fonts and nine color combinations of letter and background and adjust the point size of the letters from 14 to 144. Text spacing can be set from one to six spaces between letters. SARA will highlight each word as it is spoken aloud.
Some have commented that the menu structure of the SARA is somewhat difficult to move around in. However, for most documents no scanner adjustments are necessary. For basic operation the user need only press the scan key and the read/pause key in order to hear page after page read aloud.
The SARA is manufactured and sold by Freedom Scientific, 11800 31st Court North, St. Petersburg, Florida 33716-1805; (727) 803-8000; toll-free (800) 444-4443; tech support (737) 803-8600; Web site <http://www.freedomscientific.com>; <info@freedomscientific.com>. Current price: $2,795.
The ScannaR
Reviewed by Mike Tindell
ScannaR (notice the capital R on the end of the word) is another stand-alone reading machine designed to scan a document, process the text, and read it aloud using synthetic speech. The ScannaR provides reliable scanning and text recognition, along with several voices to choose from for the reading and menu voices. The unit is rectangular, 19.3 inches long by 12.8 inches wide by 3.5 inches deep, and weighs fifteen pounds. The power cable is connected to the back of the unit, and all operations are done from the panel of buttons and knobs on the front. The ScannaR will speak the menu as buttons are pressed and tell the user which options the up and down buttons offer at different points in the menu.
Moving along the front of the unit from left to right, you find a power button, a headphone jack, the external speaker, then two knobs aligned one above the other. The top knob is for controlling volume, and the bottom is for controlling reading voice rate. Located to the right of the knobs is the start button, followed by the pause button. To the right of the pause button are two more buttons set one above the other for choosing up and down movement. The last button at the right end is the stop/menu button.
Place a printed page face down on the glass scanning plate. The only function of the power button is to power the ScannaR on and off. Press this button. Many of the other buttons have multiple functions, depending on which function is being performed. To scan and read the document, press the start button. The scanner will scan the text and, after it completes its scan, begin reading aloud. Press pause, and the reading will pause. To resume reading, press pause again. If no text is being read, the stop button serves as a menu button. Move through the menus with the up and down arrow buttons. Use the pause button to select a menu item.
The first option in the menu is new document. If the current document has not been saved, you will be asked if you wish to save the current document. Use the up and down buttons to choose yes, no, or cancel. The menu voice will present the options aurally and tell the user which button to press for each option.
Unlike other stand-alone readers, the ScannaR often requires the user to press two keys simultaneously to choose an action. In the menu, for example, open document is selected by pressing pause. This places the user in a list of files. To select a file as the names are spoken aloud, use the arrow keys. To delete a file, press and hold start while pressing pause. You will be asked if you wish to delete the document; the choices voiced are yes or no. Press pause to register the selected choice. Additionally, you can go to the top of the list, the bottom of the list, or move up or down by ten files at a time. This is done by simultaneously pressing different combinations of two keys on the unit. The ScannaR has only a few keys, but many possibilities in its menu.
Document info will tell you the number of pages in the open document as well as your position in the file. When reading a document, you can set up to eight flags to find your spot quickly. You can quickly move from flag to flag or delete flags. When a document is closed, a bookmark is automatically set at the last reading position. The next time this document is opened, the user is automatically taken to this spot in the text.
The feature called key description doesn't speak the function of each key as it is pressed but gives a list of all shortcut keys. Within the main menu the last function, settings, offers several possibilities. The first menu choice can change the function of the navigation keys in order to move through the document by line, sentence, paragraph, or page. The default choice is line. Other features in the settings menu concern the reading voice. They allow the user to change the voice, change the speed of the voice, and change the language used when reading. The next option is menu voice, which can change the voice and the rate at which the voice speaks menu items.
Another sub-menu under settings is called scanner. In this menu the user can read or ignore columns and change brightness and contrast settings. Values can be chosen between minus-1000 and 1000 for both brightness and contrast on the pages being scanned. The next item in the menu is image type. The user can choose between black on white or gray scale, which is recommended for colored documents. The next sub-menu under settings is language for text recognition. The default language is English, but the user can change to other languages.
The next item in the settings menu is general. All of the items in this sub-menu are check boxes that can be selected or unselected by pressing the start key. When the settings are set the way you want them, press pause to save the settings. One useful feature in this sub-menu will have ScannaR automatically give a signal when scanning is started or stopped.
On the positive side, the reading voices are varied and pleasant, and recognition of text is very fast and accurate. One problem I discovered in testing the ScannaR is that it would sometimes lock up when setting and deleting flags. This required a reboot before the unit would operate again. Also it seemed unnecessarily difficult that two of the most commonly needed commands were two levels down in the command structure and required two keys pressed simultaneously. I suggest the commands for delete a document and go to top and bottom of file should move to the main navigation menu in a future update. Another common feature of most machines designed for use by blind people is a key that, when pressed, names each key or its function when the second key is pressed. However, in order to use this feature in the ScannaR, you must already have a working knowledge of the machine in order to dig down through its help menu. Once at the key describer menu, commands are listed in separate groups, and you must use two keys together to get to the different groups. I suggest that most users would appreciate a key describer that can be more easily found and used.
ScannaR is sold by HumanWare, 175 Mason Circle, Concord, California 94520; (925) 680-7100; toll-free (800) 722-3393; Web site <http://www.humanware.com>; <us.info@humanware.com>. Current price: $2,995.
Extreme Reader XR10
Reviewed by Anne Taylor
The Extreme Reader XR10 reads printed text aloud and can read aloud books that are on CDs and floppy disks. It has one function for readers who need magnification. A cable connects an external keyboard that can be moved around to an advantageous position by the user. The Reader can access many file types, has two on-board storage drives, a hard drive, and a 3.5-inch floppy drive. The Extreme Reader XR10 is complete in five pieces: the machine (a computer CPU), a small-sized scanner attached to the top of the computer by Velcro strips, a power cord, an external keyboard, and an external MP3 player with buttons designed for use by blind people. This machine is the only stand-alone reading system that uses AT&T Natural Voices (one male and one female) as one of its two speech-synthesizer options. The alternate speech option is Microsoft Speech (one male, one female).
This reading machine can read aloud books or documents in the following commonly used file formats: text only format (txt), rich text format (rtf), Microsoft Word format (doc), and portable document format (pdf). These files must be located on a floppy disk. If the books or documents are on an audio CD, they must be in one of these file formats: DAISY version 2 audio files, Wave audio files, or CDA audio files. Currently the Extreme Reader XR10 cannot read MP3 files on CD.
No file can be saved to a CD at this time; instead, the user can export a scanned file to the MP3 player provided. Files can also be stored on the hard drive or the floppy drive. Currently the CD drive can be used only to read documents, not to save them. Note that a scanned file can be saved as only a txt-formatted file or as an MP3-formatted file. Since the stand-alone reading machine is generally designed for people who are not advanced computer users, the limited number of file types is not considered a serious disadvantage.
With the small external keyboard a user can control speech rate, select voice preferences, navigate between folders and files, move between sentences, or move from word to word within a specific file. The Extreme Reader XR10 has an excellent help feature. If a user forgets the keyboard layout, he or she can press the help key at the top left of the keyboard to hear the system announce the functions of every key, starting with the top row and moving from left to right. Note that the key describer runs through the entire set every time it is pressed. It does not describe one key only. However, since there are only fourteen buttons (a row of four, a second row of four, and a bottom row of two buttons, plus four navigation keys), this is not a great problem. To help a user with the layout of the external keyboard, each key contains tactile markings. For example, the help key has a print question mark on its face.
The Extreme Reader XR10 has several modes to accommodate different types of printed information. Currency mode is used for scanning banknotes, column mode scans books or magazines, and tabular mode scans across the page for reading one-column books or financial statements and invoices. To change from one mode to another, the change mode key cycles the user through all of the mode options. Once a desired mode is announced, the start/scan key must be pressed to start the scanning process. As with all scanners, each page must be fully processed before the reader begins reading the words aloud. However, after the first page is processed, that page will be read aloud while the scanner processes the next page, which allows for continuous reading.
The Extreme Reader XR10
features several modes used to control all of the storage drives and exporting
audio files from a CD to the external MP3 player. For example, to play a book
recorded on a CD, insert the CD, choose CD mode, then press the scan/start button.
Those who prefer magnification can connect the Extreme Reader XR10 to a computer
monitor. By default the magnification is set to 28-point type, and the font
is Arial. As the reader highlights each word, the unit reads it aloud. The user
cannot now change the size of the print or the font, but I recommend that this
limitation be changed in future upgrades.
I observed that the user interface of the Extreme Reader XR10 is quite logical. For instance, to move forward one word at a time, press shift and the forward key, and to move backward one word at a time, press shift with the backward key. By default the machine reads English only, but it supports other languages. Contact the manufacturer to learn what is available.
The Extreme Reader XR10 is manufactured and sold by Guerilla Technologies, 5029 SE Horseshoe Point Road, Stuart, Florida 34997; (772) 283-0500; Web site <http://www.guerillatechnologies.com>; email by online form. Current price: $3,495.
We hope that after reading these reviews of four popular flatbed stand-alone scanners, you have a better perspective on what is currently available for purchase. If you have further questions, call the National Federation of the Blind technology answer line at (410) 659-9314, option 5.
by Karl Smith
From the Editor: Increasing numbers of blind and disabled Americans
reach the polls each election day to discover that they actually can vote independently
for the first time in their lives or since they became disabled. For me the
date was November 8, 2005, and I will never forget the experience and the unexpected
pride and excitement that accompanied this simple act of citizenship that so
many take for granted that millions actually stay home, choosing not to exercise
their right to vote at all. Karl Smith, a leader of the National Federation
of the Blind of Utah, has just voted independently for the first time in this
fall’s election. He came home and wrote a letter about his experience to his
local newspaper, the Deseret News. Whether or not the paper’s editor
thought it worth publishing, we think it expresses the sentiments of many of
us who have recently participated independently in this right and responsibility
of citizenship for the first time. This is what Karl wrote:
It is Halloween night, my fifty-first, but this year marks a special event in my life which has nothing to do with ghosts, goblins, or even trick-or-treat candy. After learning this afternoon of the opportunity to participate in early voting this week, I did something I've never done since I was first eligible to vote in 1976--cast a secret ballot in a U.S. election.
This was not because of apathy or lack of desire, but rather it was because until this year the mechanisms for casting ballots in Utah and other states in which I have lived were not accessible to me as a blind person. In past elections I had to have someone, my wife, a friend, or poll worker, read the ballot to me and punch my choices. Until today. Today, for the first time since I became eligible to vote, I was able to cast a completely secret ballot for myself--an experience even my children had before I did.
After a slight bit of clumsiness at the beginning on my part as well as that of the poll worker, who was still learning his way on the new electronic voting equipment and who had never had a blind person come in to use an accessible machine, which speaks all the pertinent information through headphones, I got the hang of it and made my choices.
For several years I have been heavily involved through the National Federation of the Blind in working for the passage of the Help America Vote Act to see that whatever equipment finally emerged would be accessible to blind voters. I have personally been present at product demonstrations and tested a number of different voting machines. But nothing prepared me for the overwhelming feeling of wonder and awe for my country and the rights all of us sometimes take for granted. This was no test, no demonstration; it was the first time this fifty-year-old American has fully and independently participated in the remarkable process which defines America and its truly extraordinary system of government.
I encourage everyone to take the opportunity to exercise your right to vote. It is your chance to make a difference and can only be taken away if you allow it to be.
From the Editor: From time to time Miss Whozit answers reader questions about etiquette and good manners, particularly as they involve blindness. If you would like to pose a question to Miss Whozit, you can send it to the attention of Barbara Pierce, 1800 Johnson Street, Baltimore, Maryland 21230, or email me at <bpierce@nfb.org>. I will pass the questions along. Letters may be edited for space and clarity. Here are the most recent letters Miss Whozit has received:
Dear Miss Whozit,
I wish to inquire about your comments in your July 2006 column in response to the question raised by Buffet Baffled. The question was how to maneuver through a restaurant or party buffet line with dignity and good manners.
You began by saying that asking for assistance in gathering food is “essential or prudent. We live in an interdependent society." Dr. Jernigan wrote in “The Nature of Independence” about the importance of accomplishing tasks efficiently rather than insisting on doing everything alone. Negotiating a buffet line, you said, is one of those situations in which hygiene and efficiency combine to make asking for information or even assistance from a sighted server or dinner companion advisable.
But then you reminded Baffled that, once through the line, "you are responsible for carrying your own plates, glasses, or bowls. You have requested assistance learning what items are on the line and perhaps placing the food on your plate, not providing service as a personal butler, carrying your selections from the line to the table." My question has to do with how one would carry plates and drinks to a table from the buffet line, especially if the plates are breakable. It seems to me that you are setting a double standard about when it is permissible to request assistance.
Miss Whozit, your expectation seems draconian. Nobody wants a personal butler just to make things simple. First you say that it is preferable to ask for assistance in the name of efficiency and cleanliness, and then you say that asking someone to carry china and liquids is inappropriate. While I would love to know how to carry plates and glasses independently, I also recall your stressing that we live in an interdependent society.
I have always admired the National Federation of the Blind for fighting the unrelenting discrimination that blind people face and for urging us all to demand training in the skills we need and to push ourselves to be independent so that we can live up to our full potential. But your conflicting advice here confuses me. Please explain.
Challenging Assumptions
and Breaking Rules
Dear Challenging,
Dearie, dearie me, you have certainly caught Miss Whozit cutting corners. She assumed, gentle reader, that everyone would understand her implied distinctions, and your confusion demonstrates again how dangerous such assumptions can be.
Miss Whozit will try again to make a distinction which is important to understand but which does change from person to person and even situation to situation. As you say, the buffet line is not an appropriate place for tactile exploration, which means that most blind people must recruit sighted assistance to negotiate it quickly and neatly and without offending other diners, who do not appreciate watching someone handling the food they are about to eat. For some blind people, assistance carrying food and drink back to the table is every bit as necessary as help in the line. If the blind diner has only one hand, which will be needed for using the white cane, or must use a support cane or crutch as well as a mobility cane, or has problems with balance, carrying the dinner plate safely or at all is impossible, and requesting assistance is the only sensible course of action.
But you will note that all these extenuating circumstances imply an additional impairment. Miss Whozit was thinking and speaking about the diner with no additional complications to independent mobility. Blind people are told all of our lives that we cannot carry trays levelly or glasses without spilling the contents. Yet many blind people have worked out personal methods for doing so. Developing these techniques takes a bit of practice—precisely the experience that is hard to acquire if you never take the opportunity to carry a filled plate, a glass or cup of liquid, or a loaded tray. If you are serious about mastering this skill, it is pretty easy to gather a tray and plastic dishes and cups at home and balance the tray on your forearm while you walk around the house.
Late in his life Dr. Jernigan discovered that it is easy to carry a mug of hot coffee or a glass of liquid without spilling by grasping it from above with the thumb and index finger. In this way gravity helps one carry it level. He explains this method in the Kernel Book, Old Dogs and New Tricks.
When blind people are developing and practicing new skills either on their own or at a good training center, it is very important for them to push hard against their perceived limitations. Once you know to the center of your being that you can complete a task that people usually assume a blind person cannot do, you no longer have to prove to yourself that you can do it. Then you are free to do what seems most convenient in any given situation. But that is the reason I urged Baffled to carry her food herself. She seemed uncertain that she really could do it. She did not suggest that there were reasons why she was inherently unable to do the job, so I gently encouraged her to carry out the part of the task of gathering food from a buffet that would not compromise the cleanliness of other people’s food.
Each of us is responsible
for conducting ourselves considerately, courteously, and as independently as
circumstances permit. Learning how to decide upon the appropriate behavior in
accordance with these standards takes a lifetime of thoughtful effort and the
support and advice of our Federation family.
Dear Miss Whozit,
As I sit down to write this letter, fall has come and the holiday season will not be far behind. For me this means that it is time to begin worrying again about how to dress for various functions.
In my office the dress code is what is known today as business casual. I think I have mastered this standard: slacks (not jeans) and nice sports shirts or sweaters for men and slacks (not jeans) or skirts and blouses or sweaters for women. T-shirts, tube tops, halters, cut-offs, and shorts are out. That’s fine with me and clear enough to make compliance easy.
I begin feeling uncertain when it comes to receptions, holiday parties, and even my state convention. I can never decide how casual is too casual and how dressy is too formal. I may be making the right decisions, but I may not. So I always feel insecure and uncertain for fear I am conspicuous, and that’s before we come to the white cane and people’s uncertainty about what they should be doing to help me.
Please, Miss Whozit, I
need some guidance.
Stuck in my Closet
Dear Stuck,
Miss Whozit pines for the days of yesteryear when gentlemen donned clean collars and ties with their suits each morning, ladies wore house dresses for cleaning, morning dresses for making calls, tea gowns for late afternoon, and evening gowns for dinner; and everyone wore hats and gloves as a matter of course. But that standard of dress was time-consuming and expensive, and those days will never come again. But at least people knew what was expected of them at any hour of the day and in any setting.
I believe that you are
correct in your statement of the requirements for meeting the business-casual
standard. Offices that require more formality demand suits and ties for men
and suits with pants or skirts or business-style dresses for women. For women
this means leaving one’s contours to the imagination of others—not too tight
and not so much skin visible that your grandmother would be shocked.
These standards are fairly easy to establish and to understand, and they probably
also hold for most receptions that are business-connected, particularly since
they usually bump up against the workday. If the reception precedes or follows
an arts performance, performance attire will govern dress for the reception.
Remember that the performers will probably be dressed formally, and while audiences
today are not required to follow suit, Miss Whozit prefers to appear only a
step below them on the formality spectrum—a suit or dress jacket and tie or
ascot for men and dressy to semi-formal attire for women.
Parties do not lend themselves to rigorous standards. Dress is dictated by the time of day, party activity, and preference of the host. It is always proper to enquire how formal or casual dress is to be. Unless one’s dinner host says that dress is casual, Miss Whozit always pays him or her the compliment of dressing up at least a little. Appearing in black tie when everyone else is in shorts would naturally make one feel inappropriately dressed, but arriving a step or even two above the dress of the other guests is perfectly acceptable and indicates respect for the host and the occasion.
A decision to dress below the accepted standard for an event makes the opposite statement and will result in one’s standing out even more painfully.
The discussion so far about what to wear has avoided the problem of making certain that one’s clothing is clean, pressed, and free of stains and spots, which requires extra effort if you do not live with someone who can check for and treat problem areas before clothes are washed or dry cleaned. Making a good appearance requires not only that one be dressed appropriately, but also that one’s clothing be in good repair and look and be clean. This means retiring the items that have seen better days.
In closing Miss Whozit wishes to make a few comments about convention attire. We try hard to make everyone at a convention feel welcome, no matter how casually or even grubbily dressed. We understand that many blind people have not had good advice about appropriate dress and many have little money to spend on clothes. But part of what we can do for each other is to raise our expectations of what is expected in the general social circles that we are coming to inhabit. Therefore, though etiquette demands that all attendees be graciously welcomed at conventions no matter how they are dressed, chapter, state, and national leaders and those who aspire to leadership should make a point of according respect to the convention by dressing with care and good taste. Those who present on the agenda should certainly be dressed for business. (Some of us are old enough to remember how insulted we felt when Larry King appeared on the NFB convention platform in a jogging suit and called attention to the fact by excusing himself on the grounds that he was addressing blind people.) Those seated in the audience can get away with business casual dress, but everyone should aim at a neat, well-groomed appearance.
The banquet is another matter. Miss Whozit regrets to report that many people no longer bother to dress for this event. Perhaps they do not realize that a number of the gentlemen at the national convention head table wear black tie and all of the ladies are dressed in cocktail- or evening-length gowns. Many in the audience as well dress appropriately (coats and ties for the men and very dressy dresses for the women). But, alas, many others cannot be bothered to part from their jeans and T-shirts, and some, Miss Whozit is pained to report, have not even bothered to put on clean T-shirts and jeans. State convention banquets need not aim for the level of formality of the national banquet, but everyone at the head table should most certainly wear a coat and tie or a very dressy dress or evening pants and top. Miss Whozit would hope that banquet guests would also demonstrate sufficient respect for the organization and the occasion to make an extra effort to dress as well as possible for the event.
I am aware that I have set the standard for personal appearance higher than some people might prefer. Unfortunately we are all judged by our appearance, and if poorly or slovenly dressed blind people are not dismissed as inappropriate, it is only because as a class we are not held to the same standard as the rest of the community. This is a sad commentary on how far we still have to travel to reach first-class status and be held to general community standards.
If your wallet does not stretch to purchasing a new wardrobe from department stores or even outlet malls, remember that every city or town has at least one thrift store, and every metropolitan area has resale stores in which very fine, almost new clothing is sold at a fraction of its actual value. Invite a friend or relative who likes to shop to go with you to such an establishment. It is possible to create a wardrobe for a very small outlay of cash and have fun in the process. Just check beforehand to be sure that your proposed shopping partner understands style, color, and clothing quality. A quiet conversation with a third person about his or her taste and fashion sense may put your mind at ease before you raise the question of a shopping spree. Anyone who shops with you should agree beforehand to be honest about what styles complement your coloring and body type. You may even find it useful to read up on this subject or watch the Learning Channel program, What Not to Wear, which will quickly convince you that blind people are not the only ones who need constructive advice about what to wear and what to avoid wearing.
Let us all make a New Year’s resolution to build the self-confidence we have when we know that we are appropriately dressed. This does wonders for one’s ability to face the world with poise.
by The NFB Jernigan