The Braille
Monitor
Vol. 36, No. 6 June
1993
Barbara Pierce, Editor
Published in inkprint, in Braille,
on cassette and
the World Wide Web and FTP on the Internet
The National Federation of the Blind
Marc Maurer, President
National Office
1800 Johnson Street
Baltimore, Maryland 21230
NFB Net BBS: (612) 696-1975
Web Page Address: http//www.nfb.org
Letters to the president,
address changes,
subscription requests, orders for NFB literature,
articles for the Monitor, and letters to the editor
should be sent to the National Office
Monitor
subscriptions cost the Federation about twenty-five dollars
per year.
Members are invited, and non-members are requested, to cover
the subscription cost. Donations should be made payable to
National Federation of the Blind and sent to:
National Federation of the Blind
1800 Johnson Street
Baltimore, Maryland 21230
THE
NATIONAL FEDERATION OF
THE BLIND IS NOT
AN ORGANIZATION
SPEAKING FOR THE BLIND--IT
IS THE BLIND SPEAKING
FOR THEMSELVES
ISSN 0006-8829
Contents
Vol. 36, No. 6 June 1993
MORE HANKY-PANKY
AT THE ALABAMA INSTITUTE FOR THE DEAF AND BLIND
by Barbara Pierce
WHY I AM NOT
A CHEMIST: THE BRAILLE CEILING
by Tim Cranmer
WHY BE INVOLVED
IN A CHAPTER
by Ronda Del Boccio
ON THE STIGMA
OF BLINDNESS
by Michael Freeman
CUSTOMIZE
YOUR CANE
by Jody W. Ianuzzi
THE AMERICAN
WAY: THE EVOLUTION OF A FEDERATIONIST
by John W. Smith
SUBSTITUTING
FOR SUCCESS
by David Ticchi
BLINDNESS
AND THE BROOKLYN BRIDGE
by Kenneth Silberman
THE MOUNTBATTEN
BRAILLER AND BRAILLE LITERACY
by Tim Connell
PUTTING THE
MOUNTBATTEN BRAILLER IN PERSPECTIVE
by David Andrews
THE PLAN
TO ACHIEVE SELF-SUPPORT
by Sharon Gold
WHY ALL OF
US ARE FEDERATIONISTS
by Homer Page
FEDERATIONIST HIKES HIS WAY TO HEALTH
SMALL PRIORITIES
by David Hyde
NOW YOU TOO
CAN RENT A DOLLAR OR ALAMO CAR
by Toni and Ed Eames
Copyright National Federation of the Blind, Inc., 1993
[4 LEAD PHOTOS: 1) New signs at the entrance of the National Center for the Blind show direction to "National Federation of the Blind," "Oakloom Clothes," and "Conference Center"; 2) T-Room at the Conference Center; 3) Round Room at the Conference Center; and 4) the Kitchen at the Conference Center. CAPTION: In late 1992 the second floor Conference Center at the National Center for the Blind was completed. The NFB Board of Directors conducted part of its late November meeting in the facility, and the NFB Scholarship Committee recently held its sub-committee meetings there in order to take advantage of the many meeting areas. Everyone involved reported the rooms spacious and comfortable during hours of hard work. Other groups meeting at the National Center for the Blind in recent months have now used the Conference Center as well. The complex of offices and meeting rooms can be reached from the portico at street level (above left). Entrances from both the outdoors and the elevator lobby lead into the reception area. The T-Room (above right) and the Round Room (below left) are two of the three conference rooms. There are also four offices in the facility. In addition, a small but fully appointed kitchen (below right) serves the area so that conferees need not leave for coffee breaks or simple meals. All in all, the new Conference Center is a fine addition to the National Center for the Blind.]
MORE
HANKY-PANKY AT THE
ALABAMA INSTITUTE FOR THE DEAF AND BLIND
by Barbara Pierce
What would you do if your boss encouraged all employees to hand over their paychecks to be deposited in a single account from which their bills were to be paid and a weekly allowance issued? If monthly statements of individual account activity and receipts for bills paid were not provided and if there were frequent disagreements between employees and the staff member who maintained the account as to how much money different employees had coming, would you become more than mildly uneasy? If you then learned that well over $20,000 from the account had disappeared into the pockets of the secretary who had managed the program and who had now moved on to another job, would your uneasiness explode into acute anxiety? Surely everyone would answer yes to all of these questions. This is exactly what seems to have happened at the sheltered workshop located at the Alabama Institute for the Deaf and Blind in Talladega, Alabama.
Not surprisingly, the Alabama Institute for the Deaf and Blind is accredited by NAC (the National Accreditation Council for Agencies Serving the Blind and Visually Handicapped)--and also not surprisingly, the members of the National Federation of the Blind of Alabama are the ones who have ferreted out the facts and been concerned enough to do something about this new scandal at the Institute. Of course, scandals at the Institute are not new (see "Of Chandeliers and Shoddy Practice in Alabama" in the February, 1990, issue of the Braille Monitor). And, of course, even though we cannot tell whether NAC is directly concerned with the particular component of the Institute now being spotlighted since NAC merely says in its latest report that it accredits "Services for Blind and Visually Handicapped Children and Adults of the Alabama Institute for the Deaf and Blind," we know from long experience that NAC's failure to do anything substantive to see that proper standards are set or meaningful steps taken to improve the quality of life for blind people is disgustingly routine. Monitor readers will remember that such services as there are for the blind in Alabama are provided by the Institute, which consists of the industries program (a large sheltered shop, producing a wide array of products and providing jobs for more than 300 blind and physically handicapped people); the E.H. Gentry Technical School (offering limited rehabilitation and post-secondary training in some fifteen trades); the Helen Keller School (serving deaf-blind and other severely handicapped children from a number of states); the School for the Deaf; and the School for the Blind. The Governor of Alabama appoints a Board of Trustees to oversee this conglomerate.
The current scandal is not (as it was three years ago) the carting off of Institute property by a resigning president. Instead it is almost $24,000 of missing money belonging to blind and deaf workers at the Industries Program. As often happens in cases of institutional hanky-panky, the first impulse of those in charge seems to have been to minimize the problem and try to cover it up if they could. As far as can be gathered, in October of 1991 these officials first discovered that funds were missing and began an in-house investigation, which lasted eleven months and produced no publicly available answers. Not until September of 1992 was a state audit begun. The results of this probe were supposed to be made public in April, 1993, but at this writing (early May) nothing has yet been announced--and now June is being put forward as the time to expect the report. It goes without saying that nothing has been done to correct the problem, to punish those responsible for the laxness that allowed the situation to occur, or to recover the funds from the clerical employee who has been indicted for taking them.
As we have been able to gather the facts, this is the sequence of events. Reports began to circulate in the blind community in Alabama several months ago that yet another problem was about to come to light at the Alabama Institute for the Deaf and Blind. This time the problem involved a so-called consumer management account at the Talladega regional center of AIDB, which includes a workshop facility. Word had it that the blind workers were encouraged to turn their paychecks over to a secretary in the business office at the regional center. She would then put the money into a bank, pay personal bills for each participating worker, and hand out a weekly allowance. The fly in the ointment seems to have been that the secretary was keeping a goodly share of the money for herself.
Then, on March 4, 1993, both the Anniston Star and the Birmingham News published articles about the consumer management account. The local Talladega paper published articles on March 3, 4, and 5, containing some additional information. What follows are the Anniston and Birmingham articles and some information from the Talladega Daily Home. Here is the March 4 article from the Anniston Star:
Businessman Gives Details of Missing AIDB Money
Talladega - An investigation of money missing from an Alabama Institute for the Deaf and Blind account is centering on a program that manages the money of some blind residents in a nine-county area.
AIDB officials discovered the loss in October, 1991, and investigated it for eleven months before requesting a state audit. The state Department of Examiners of Public Accounts and the Talladega District Attorney's Office are now investigating.
Details of the loss were made public Tuesday when a blind businessman released a copy of a complaint he sent to the Alabama Ethics Commission on behalf of four blind workers at Industries for the Blind. "The Institute seems to be operating outside the banking law and has no right whatsoever to allow state employees to manage the money of competent blind workers," wrote Tom Mills, a former student of E. H. Gentry Technical Facility and a blind vendor. He asked the Ethics Commission to investigate whether a secretary at the program "used her position at the Institute for personal gain."
The voluntary program, called a consumer management account, collects paychecks from blind people, pays their bills, and each week returns a predetermined amount of spending money to them.
Blind people familiar with the program criticized it for not issuing balance statements or receipts of the paid bills. They said that, even when the money is being handled properly, disputes have arisen because people were confused about how much money they had. None, however, have been unable to withdraw money because of the loss.
Mark Skelton, director of the regional center, confirmed that the program does not issue individual statements because all the money is kept in one account. He said, however, that participants only had to call the office to find out their balance, which is kept on computer.
Members of the local chapter of the National Federation of the Blind have also criticized the program because they say it fosters dependence. "The Institute's role ought to be training people to manage their money," said Mike Jones, state vice president for the Federation. "The Federation has complained about this program from the beginning and would like to see it phased out."
____________________
That is what the Anniston Star had to say on March 4. Here is what the Birmingham News reported on the same day:
Money Missing from Blind Workers' Fund
Talladega - Advocates for the blind--outraged over money missing from a program to manage financial accounts for workers at the Alabama Industries for the Blind--are calling for an ethics investigation and the ouster of the chairman of the board.
Talladega County District Attorney Robert Rumsey confirmed his office is investigating the matter.
Alabama Industries for the Blind is part of the Institute for the Deaf and Blind, providing jobs for blind people.
Lynne Hanner, public relations director for the Alabama Institute for the Deaf and Blind, said an audit is being conducted but would not say what department is involved. She said the amount of money missing has not been determined.
But Mike Jones, vice president of the National Federation of the Blind, said it involves $20,000 embezzled a year ago from a consumer management account where workers' paychecks are deposited. From the central account the workers' personal bills are paid, and allowances are given to the workers.
"It's just a sham," Jones said. "We are appalled at a board of directors that would allow such a program to continue and would allow this type of embezzlement to occur. It ought to be stopped. We're calling for the resignation of (Board Chairman) Calvin Wooten. As a blind person, it has really hurt me deeply to know they are doing that to my people. It's just a travesty." Activist Tom Mills of Baileyton, a blind vendor and AIDB graduate, this week filed a request for an investigation by the Alabama Ethics Commission.
"The Institute seems to be operating outside the banking law and has no right whatsoever to allow state employees to manage the money of competent blind workers," the request letter said. "There are many private banks in our state that provide bill-paying services which can accommodate this need."
Wooten agreed the system has problems and said it probably would be discontinued. "It was meant to be a service for some of the blind people, but with this sort of problem it seems we need to make some more arrangements, possibly letting these people work directly with the banks," he said.
Wooten said the situation is being handled by acting President Pat Greene, and he has no intention of resigning.
"I'm the only alumnus of the school who ever served as chairman," he said. "I've been elected four times by my peers, so I think that within itself says what the people that work with me on the board think about me. I would not consider under any circumstances ever resigning."
Miss Hanner said employees discovered a discrepancy in the accounts and requested an audit by the Department of Public Examiners, which has been conducting an investigation for a couple of months. She said audit results are expected in about two weeks. [We interrupt to reiterate that this newspaper article was written March 4 and that the report which was said to be coming out in about two weeks has not yet been received in early May. But back to the news article.]
Jones criticized the board of trustees for providing such a service instead of working to help blind people learn to manage their own money.
"It has always been our contention that the program is fostering dependence, and we've always believed that the Institute has no business being in the banking business," Jones said. "This is a heinous thing that has happened, and it's something that the Federation can't allow to be buried."
That is what the Birmingham paper said, and more details were added in the three Talladega Daily Home articles. On March 3 the Daily Home reported that Tom Mills's request for an ethics investigation included an inquiry as to whether "Regina Hann used her position at the Institute for personal gain." Ms. Hann is the daughter of former Talladega County Probate Judge Derrell Hann. Attempts to reach Ms. Hann were unsuccessful." The Daily Home also reported that Mills stated, "'the blind workers were never told that their money was missing.' However, the blind clients will not lose any money because a bonding company insures the Institute against such losses, Ms. Hanner said."
The paper also reports that "a discrepancy" was discovered in October of 1991 and immediately reported to the office of AIDB Business Affairs, according to the public relations spokesperson.
On March 4 the Daily Home reported that Regina Hann was formerly a secretary at the regional center. The public relations spokesperson (Ms. Hanner, not to be confused with Regina Hann) is quoted as saying: "The Institute has taken steps to keep anything of this nature from happening again."
The paper also reports that the audit of the consumer management account began in September of 1992 and will not be completed until April of 1993. The paper also reports that the regular audit of AIDB has been temporarily discontinued while this special audit is conducted.
On March 5, 1993, the Daily Home reported: "The audit probed account records for a three-year period beginning in 1989, according to Lynne Hanner of the Office of Institutional Advancement. A detailed month-by-month review revealed that $23,817.77 had disappeared from the account from January, 1989, to September, 1991, Ms. Hanner said."
Also, on March 5 the Daily Home quotes Ms. Hanner as saying that the Institute's insurance company will cover the loss. It goes on to say: "But Tom Mills, a blind vendor and a former student at E. H. Gentry, says he understands that the insurance has lapsed.... `I plan,' Mills said, `to inquire of state government officials concerning the status of the insurance. It is my understanding that it has lapsed and that AIDB has made arrangements to use the money they've paid into it to cover the loss.'" ... Ms. Hanner maintains that the bonding company will cover the loss. "It is my understanding that the bonding company will honor the loss. I've checked, and they are in the process of doing the paperwork on it now, but it can't be completed until the audit report is released," she said.
One can only shake one's head in disbelief at such goings-on: worker paychecks all deposited into a single account and no regular statements given, just allowances every week. Money missing from the account over a three-year period, amounting to more than $23,000. Insurance that may or may not have lapsed. And a blind chairman of the board saying he will let blind people have and manage the money they themselves have earned. Mike Jones is right on target when he calls this a sham and a travesty.
At the NFB of Alabama convention in April, members who work in the Industries Program described what it is like even now to accompany colleagues to the so-called bank to check on their financial situation. One man says he questioned the staffer now managing the program about whether or not his utilities bill was being paid. He was assured that it was. He then commented that he had always understood that utility companies only turned off a person's heat when the bills weren't paid, and he was now without heat. Moreover, the utility company had told him that the bills were not being paid. It would be convenient for the Alabama Institute if Regina Hann were the only member of the staff to have created problems, but clearly she is not.
In the meantime, though the dubious service to workers (what a service!) has not yet been closed, the grand jury has at least handed down an indictment against Ms. Hann. Here is the report that appeared in the April 24 edition of the Daily Home:
Ms. Hann Accused of Taking Money From 4 AIDB Clients
by Sheryl Marsh, staff writer
Regina Hann, daughter of former Talladega County Probate Judge Derrell Hann, has been indicted on four counts of theft in connection with money taken from four blind and deaf clients of Alabama Institute for Deaf and Blind's Talladega Regional Center.
Ms. Hann was arrested after turning herself in at the Talladega County Jail Thursday evening. She was immediately released on a $2,000 bond signed by her parents.
Ms. Hann is accused of unlawfully taking a total of $16,785 from Kevin Doucet, Horace Smelley, Hwa Cha Pyon, and Candice Williams between April, 1990, and September, 1991, according to the indictment returned Wednesday by a Talladega County grand jury.
Ms. Pyon, who is deaf, and Ms. Williams, who is blind, both work in the sewing department at Alabama Industries for the Blind.
Ms. Hann worked for about two years as a secretary for AIDB's Talladega Regional Center, according to Lynne Hanner of the Office of Institutional Advancement.
The Center operates a consumer management account into which deaf and blind clients can voluntarily deposit their money and receive assistance with paying their bills.
In the four counts of the indictment, Ms. Hann is charged with unlawfully taking $3,816 from Ms. Pyon; $3,677 from Doucet; $1,450 from Smelley; and $7,842 from Ms. Williams.
Ms. Williams said Friday that she knew something was wrong when she didn't have any money in her account during Christmas.
"I knew something was wrong," she said. "I just didn't know what and I didn't question it. I give my money to AIDB every payday, and the social worker at the bank would give the receipts and money to Regina for deposit. Evidently, she was taking some of the money rather than depositing all of it.
"The Institute has put the money back now, and I'm glad to see that Regina has been arrested," she said.
Ms. Williams is the only one of the four who still has an account at the Center, Ms. Hanner said.
A discrepancy was found in the management account a month after Ms. Hann resigned to accept another job, Ms. Hanner said.
An internal audit of the account conducted by AIDB officials in October, 1991, revealed that $23,817.77 was missing. Ms. Hann is charged with taking all but $7,032 of that amount.
Ms. Hanner said the auditors turned over their findings to the Talladega County District Attorney's office; therefore, "we really don't know anything other than what was discovered during the internal audit," she said.
District Attorney Robert Rumsey could not be reached for comment Friday.
The institute called on the Department of Examiners of Public Accounts to conduct a special audit of the account in July, 1992. A report from the audit is expected to be released soon.
When contacted Friday, Ms. Hann said she had no comment.
____________________
That is what the Talladega Daily Home said, and so we have the latest events in this appalling farce. Who can predict what will happen next? In Alabama you can never tell. We look forward with concern to the audit report, to the action of the District Attorney, and to the results of the ethics probe. But, most of all, we look forward to a day when Alabama will no longer provide us with the spectacle of regular, fresh scandals involving misallocation of resources intended to help the blind, a day when Alabama will welcome and respect its blind citizens instead of oppressing them, a day when all citizens of Alabama (blind and sighted) can work harmoniously together to make a better future for all Alabamans. That day has not yet come--but with work and commitment like that of Mike Jones, Tom Mills, and the other members of the National Federation of the Blind of Alabama, it comes closer year by year.
[PHOTO: Tim Cranmer standing at podium microphone. CAPTION: Tim Cranmer.]
WHY I AM NOT A CHEMIST: THE BRAILLE CEILING
by Tim Cranmer
From the Editor: Those of us who received our education without being fully literate in Braille are in a poor position to appreciate completely either the tremendous value or the sophisticated frustration inherent in the Braille code. I remember a discussion I had as a senior English major with another blind college student who casually mentioned that she could not imagine how any blind person could analyze a passage of William Faulkner's prose or a dense passage of poetry without using Braille. The statement gave me pause since I had never used Braille texts in any of my literature study.
When I reflected on her comment, however, I realized how much easier and richer my work would have been if I had had a way of poring over phrases and lines, checking rhyme schemes, or analyzing clause constructions. Magnetic tape and even live readers are inferior tools for accomplishing all these things. For the first time I realized that I was like a child brought up in a densely populated city, trying to imagine the peace, beauty, and openness of the countryside. As with that child, nothing in my experience had prepared me for the concepts my acquaintance took for granted. Although I had managed well enough, even effectively in my work, I recognized that there was a dimension to learning and thought that I had missed completely.
Reading the following article, written by long-time Federationist Tim Cranmer, reminds me that, just as I have been deprived of many of the pleasures and benefits of what could have been a powerful tool of learning, I have also been spared some of the most painful frustrations. I took two semesters of college biology and chemistry and did well enough in both to consider seriously a major in the sciences, but I worked exclusively with recorded texts and live readers. I invented my own haphazard system of Braille notation for note-taking and rushed back to my room to record and expand my notes on tape before I forgot what my improvised system meant. My jury-rigged methods worked well enough for my immediate needs, but I would never have attempted to manipulate equations or fiddle with scientific ideas using Braille. Restricted to my cramped conceptions of what was possible, I never missed the wide open spaces of scientific exploration that are denied to all blind people because of the Braille code's limitations in expressing scientific notation.
Dr. Cranmer chairs the National Federation of the Blind's Research and Development Committee. His interests and enthusiasms include not only science, but also Braille. This article reflects and partially explains both passions. It is not surprising that Dr. Cranmer is an enthusiastic proponent of combining the various Braille codes in order to increase flexibility. Here is what he has to say:
The year was 1939; Europe was in turmoil; the United States was selling scrap iron to Japan; I was fourteen; and more than anything else, I wanted to be a scientist. It was at this time that my brother-in-law, twice my age, told me that he had found a rusty pocket knife in the back yard. He then uttered the fateful lament: "If I knew more about chemistry, I could probably remove the rust and make this old knife as good as new."
"How could you get rid of rust and change the knife back into metal, even if you did know more about chemistry?" I asked.
"Well," he said, "rust is just oxygen from the air that has combined with the iron in the knife. Take the oxygen out of the rust, and you get the iron back."
This was too much for me to accept on faith, so I pressed on. "How do you know that?" I asked.
"That's just simple chemistry," he said. "Everything is made out of combinations of the chemical elements. Water is a combination of hydrogen and oxygen, and salt is a combination of chlorine and sodium."
This brief exchange excited my scientific inclination, and I tried to go on. "Tell me more about...."
"I've told you all I know," he interrupted. "If you want to know more about chemistry, you need to read a book or take a course in it."
That's exactly what I did. I had recently learned of the Hadley School for the Blind. I wrote to sign up for their correspondence course in chemistry.
When the textbook, The First Principles of Chemistry, arrived, it was in five volumes. The postman delivered it at about 4:00 p.m. on Friday. I opened the book, began to read, and did not stop till all five volumes had been read and many passages reread several times. I did not sleep till sometime on Monday.
It was downhill from then on. I scoured the country looking for more chemistry books. I wrote overseas in hope of finding information that would satisfy my desire to learn more than the "first principles" about this fascinating subject. There was nothing more to be had in Braille--absolutely nothing beyond the introduction to the subject. "Why?" I asked. "Why not more books?" I pleaded.
I was given two answers. First, blind people can't do chemistry; blind people don't need to know any more than the basics in chemistry. Moreover, there isn't any way to write a chemistry book in Braille. It's impossible. Braille is for recreational reading and education up to the high school level.
Kids inspired by science don't give up easily. If no books can be had on chemistry, I would just have to shift my enthusiasm to a different branch of science. Physics beckoned. I decided to take a course from Hadley in physics, just to see if I liked it. I took the course, First Principles of Physics, and I liked it just fine. You can guess the rest--no Braille books beyond the basics and the same reasons given to explain their absence.
So that's why I became a piano technician. I hasten to add that this is an honorable, technical, and lucrative profession. I have never regretted that decision, nor have I lost my intense interest in science. My fellow Federationists know that I went on to other work and eventually achieved a life-long ambition to pursue scientific projects by becoming the chairman of the NFB Research and Development Committee.
One thing that continues to plague me is the fact that you still can't write an advanced chemistry book in Braille. By resorting to the use of three codes (Standard English Braille Grade II, the Nemeth Code of Mathematics, and the Computer Braille Code), you can get pretty close to satisfactory books in math and computer science. If I live long enough, I intend to learn all three codes. When I do (if I do), there is still a lot I want to read that cannot be put into Braille. There are still subjects I can't explore; there are still intellectual pursuits that will be off limits to me.
I wonder how many blind people there are who have had to compromise their educational goals for the lack of an adequate system of Braille notation. I want to know how many would-be blind physicists and blind chemists are tuning pianos, working in vending stands, or pursuing other occupations.
Handwriting is the process for transforming thought to a visual form. We don't know precisely when it began, but surely it was thousands of years ago. I like to think that long, long ago, an inarticulate human ancestor tried to explain an idea to a companion by making lines in the dirt with a stick. These stick figures (no pun intended but enjoyed all the same,) may have been simple strokes to suggest trees, caves, or other things known to both parties. A lot later, perhaps about five thousand years ago, the first alphabet was used to write words and express the simple arithmetic needed by traders and merchants. If there had been a Louis Braille around at the time, he would have devised a way to emulate tactilely this early writing system. From these simple facts and assumptions I arrive at a point of view about Braille today.
Writing Braille is the process of transforming thought into tactile form. Now there's a thought to palpate! Explore with me for a moment this notion that Braille is a tactile means for transferring thought from one individual to another. As your hands follow the lines of Braille text on this page (assuming that you are reading the Braille edition of this magazine), the words that I am now thinking come to your mind and are recognized. My thoughts become your thoughts--though not necessarily your views.
For the last ten minutes I have been sitting here trying to decide how I can pass along to you my thought about what kind of molecule chain could be formed to make a material for designing a big Braille display. If I could use the print medium, I could use symbols to show the atoms of the molecule as well as the way they are all connected to one another. But of course I can't use print, and if I could, there isn't any way to convert the print symbols representing my ideas into Braille. What am I to do? Maybe I should just go tune the piano!
All of this is to make a point: limitations of our Braille code place limitations on our education and on our careers. It is ten times harder for blind people than it is for the sighted to become physicists, chemists, engineers, or many other technically advanced professions because they can't read the literature in those fields. Furthermore, if we learn additional codes in order to study hand-transcribed books in technical subjects, we will still be restricted to reading only those materials available in the sphere of influence of the Braille Authority of North America--we still can't read anything written about computers, math, and other technical subjects produced in the British Isles and other English-speaking countries.
Let me affirm my belief that the Braille in use today is entirely adequate for recreational reading and many professions in the area of the humanities and arts and much of the social sciences. We should, however, add new symbols to Braille so that it can be used to express the thoughts of scientists and technicians in the most efficient cognitive medium for the blind- -Braille. Let us make the fewest possible changes to Standard English Braille in order to make additional symbols possible. And, if you never read a book on chemistry, physics, or the other hard sciences, you will never encounter or need to learn the new symbols. The only price the average reader will pay is to accept the changes to Braille necessary to open up the system to bring new educational and career opportunities within the grasp of all blind people.
[PHOTO: Portrait. CAPTION: Ronda Del Boccio.]
by Ronda Del Boccio
We in the National Federation of the Blind have always understood how important it is to build and strengthen our local chapters across the country. State and national activities are exciting and stimulating, but the local chapters, meeting month in and month out, are the part of the organization that welcomes and assists blind people and their families, educates the community about the abilities of blind people, and raises the funds that keep the organization going. This is the very backbone of the Federation. Not much glamour attaches to these activities, but they are the very essence of Federation life. They are also the building blocks creating the love and dedication that in turn have built our movement.
Ronda Del Boccio is one of the leaders of the National Federation of the Blind of Colorado. She believes deeply in the importance of strong local chapters. Here is what she had to say about the subject in the Winter, 1993, edition of the Voice of the Rocky Mountain Blind, the publication of the National Federation of the Blind of Colorado:
Why does the National Federation of the Blind need local chapters? Some apparently believe that the organization does so much nationally that local chapters are not necessary. These folks argue that, when a local issue arises, people can band together to deal with the emergency, then part ways again. They also seem to think that people can often act individually and accomplish as much as a group could. Others say that their chapter meetings are little more than coffee klatches or social gatherings, and therefore they need only read the Monitor to know what is happening. It saddens me to say that in some cases this is true; some chapters come together only to socialize and not to improve opportunities for blind people. Socializing is good and important, but it is not our primary reason for being as an organization.
We in the National Federation of the Blind very much need local chapters if our movement is to gather strength and sustain our momentum toward first-class status for blind people. We very much need chapters to work with the city councils, politicians, county organizations, and communities at large.
If we feel humiliated when someone hauls us across a street but do not take combined action, the general public's beliefs about blindness will never change. If we feel angry because we are denied access to a carnival ride but do not work together to educate carnival officials, their policies may never change. If we feel enraged by the negative portrayal of a blind character on television but do not work together, public attitudes will never improve.
Together we are strong. Together we have power. Together we can help each other grow. Together we develop skills and stretch ourselves beyond our self-imposed limits.
Local chapters exist so that we can work collectively on local issues. If you think that no important blindness-connected issues are simmering in your town, ask any blind person what has happened that day, and you will find an issue to work on. If there is no chapter in your area, ask the State Board of Directors to help you start one. You will be amazed how much work there is to do right in your own town. Joining or starting a chapter will enable the voice of the nation's blind to be heard more clearly in the town where you live.
The National Federation of the Blind is only as strong as its local chapters. Do what you can today to increase our strength and effectiveness.
[PHOTO: Don Morris seated at table. CAPTION: Don Morris is the treasurer of Blind Industries and Services of Maryland. He is knowledgeable about sheltered shop programs in this country.]
SEGREGATED SHELTERED WORKSHOP CONTROVERSY CONTINUES: WORKSHOP OFFICIAL SPEAKS OUT AGAINST MORE SHELTERED SHOPS
Throughout the country there are small private agencies providing programs intended to serve the blind. All too frequently they are staffed and controlled by sighted people dedicated to their personal notions of what blind people need and want, rather than what is actually helpful. A classic example of this kind of facility is the Association for the Blind located in Charleston, South Carolina. According to NFB of South Carolina President Don Capps, its programs include a few recreational activities for blind people in a three-county area and a small shop in which eight or nine blind people cane chairs at an average wage of $1 an hour.
In September of 1991, during the convention of the American Council of the Blind of South Carolina, Association officials announced their plans to establish a sheltered workshop for the blind. In the following months the South Carolina Commission for the Blind Board voted to oppose establishment of such a facility, and the Board of Directors of the NFB of South Carolina passed a detailed resolution urging the Association to abandon this project. In addition Commission officials proposed that it establish a rehabilitation and job-placement facility in conjunction with the Association on the understanding that the workshop idea would be shelved.
In January, 1993, at a statewide affiliate seminar, over three hundred members of the NFB of South Carolina discussed the workshop idea at length. The overwhelming response was support for the Board of Directors resolution of October 10, 1992, and opposition to the Association's plan. But despite all this negative response, Association officials continue to find the sheltered workshop idea attractive. They have not yet responded to the Commission offer, but they have made it clear to everyone that they prefer to keep to themselves, doing what they think best for blind people.
That was the situation in February, when The Palmetto Blind, the publication of the National Federation of the Blind of South Carolina, went to press. The following article is reprinted from the February, 1993, issue. It reminds us why it is so important for blind people to remain vigilant. Only when agency officials work closely with blind consumers can they be sure of doing what is genuinely constructive for blind people. Here is what Don Capps, President of the NFB of South Carolina, had to say:
The NFB of South Carolina regrets that there has been no final disposition of the Association for the Blind's announced intention to establish a National Industries for the Blind segregated sheltered workshop in the Charleston area. NFB of South Carolina officials had hoped that their adoption of the October 10, 1992, resolution, printed in the November, 1992, Palmetto Blind, which laid out the reasons why a segregated sheltered workshop should not be established, would have resolved this distressing situation. It didn't happen. On the contrary, Ms. Isabel Ewing, Executive Director of the Association for the Blind, has gone national with the controversy. The following is a letter written by Ms. Ewing to Mr. David Reed, Director of Sales and Marketing at Blind Industries and Services of Maryland (BISM). In addition, we are printing Mr. Reed's subsequent memo to Mr. Donald J. Morris, a longtime member of the BISM Board of Trustees and current BISM Treasurer, and Mr. Morris's explanatory letter to Mr. Reed:
Charleston, South Carolina
November 5, 1992
Dear Dave:
It was such a pleasure meeting you in Salt Lake. I heard so many good things about your facility; I hope we have the opportunity to visit you in the coming year.
I have enclosed a copy of the resolution we at the Association received recently from South Carolina's NFB. Please let me know if you have any further insights or concerns after you have time to read them.
Thank you for all your information and support at the convention. It is reassuring to know that I can call on you in the difficult months ahead as we work toward establishing the first National Industries for the Blind facility in South Carolina.
Sincerely,
Isabel M. Ewing
Executive Director
____________________
After receiving this letter, Mr. Reed wrote the following note to Don Morris, whom he knew to be both a dedicated member of the BISM Board of Trustees and an active member of the National Federation of the Blind:
Baltimore, Maryland
November 23, 1992
Dear Don: I met Isabel Ewing at the NIB Conference in Utah. She explained that her attempts to start a new workshop in Charleston were meeting with a great deal of resistance from the NFB of South Carolina.
I asked her for the attached info. I was wondering if you would give me some background on the attached--if you know about it.
Dave
____________________
Upon receipt of this note, Don Morris sent the following thoughtful letter to Mr. Reed:
Emmitsburg, Maryland
December 7, 1992
Dear Dave:
Thanks for your note and the enclosures you sent on November 23, 1992. You asked if I had background information that might be relevant to the dispute in South Carolina. I do.
As a member of the National Federation of the Blind and a member of the Board of Trustees of Blind Industries and Services of Maryland and as a blind person for nearly thirty years, I assure you I have a keen interest in matters affecting the well- being of blind people throughout the country.
The issue of sheltered workshops for the blind has been controversial for more than a hundred years. The first workshops for the blind were established in the 1800's, and unfortunately the mentality that operates most of them today is in keeping with the original nineteenth century outlook.
BISM is very likely the best facility in existence today as regards the rights, benefits, and opportunities of blind workers. Despite the truth of that statement, I can also assure you that, from the perspective of the blind employee, BISM still leaves a lot to be desired. No blind person employed at BISM is paid less than the federally mandated minimum wage for all workers. Many other sheltered workshops for the blind make similar statements, with the exception that they talk about the federally guaranteed minimum wage for the blind. It is unconscionable but true that federal law permits blind sheltered shop employees to be paid as little as one fourth of the federally mandated minimum wage for all workers. There is a scant handful of sheltered workshops for the blind that do not exploit blind people through this nefarious law. It is my understanding that the workshop proposed by Miss Ewing intends to pay sub-minimum wages to blind workers.
Blind people at BISM are not precluded from management positions, but even at BISM only a minimum number have made it to the management side of the ledger, and those few are not at the highest level. As disappointing as BISM is in this regard, it is superior to other NIB facilities.
In the 1800's there was a need for sheltered employment for the blind since no other employment was available for blind people at all. In its day the idea of blind people working in any capacity was novel and forward-thinking. During the century which has passed since then, training and opportunity for the blind have improved. The most dramatic advances have occurred in the past fifty years. The National Federation of the Blind was established in 1940. I believe the improvements in training and opportunity for the blind are directly related to the establishment of the NFB and its dedication to improving opportunity and quality of life for the blind. At a bare minimum one must concede that the dramatic improvements have occurred since the establishment of the NFB, and they are consistent with the philosophy and commitments of the Federation.
In South Carolina more than one thousand blind people are affiliated with thirty-eight chapters of the NFB of South Carolina. They are on record by resolution and by action that they oppose the establishment of a sheltered workshop for the blind. These are the very blind people that Miss Ewing and her Association are proposing to help. The help is unwanted and unnecessary. It is unfortunately consistent with the nineteenth- century conception of blindness that sighted do-gooders know more about our needs and wants than we do. It is clear that the Association for the Blind is operating in a fashion that is a hundred years out of date. It is clear that their refusal to recognize the expressed opinion of the blind of South Carolina is not only outdated but insensitive.
As I told you earlier, I think BISM stands head and shoulders above any other workshop in the NIB system. Even so, if BISM did not exist today, there is no way that blind Marylanders would accept its being established. It simply isn't in keeping with modern philosophy or with the facts as we now know them, nor would it be in the best interest of blind people.
State agencies, the Department of Rehabilitation in Maryland, and the Commission for the Blind in South Carolina spend millions of dollars providing for the rehabilitation of and employment assistance for blind persons. Unfortunately, each of these rehabilitation agencies is staffed by human beings. It is unfortunate but true that it is easier to find employment for blind people in sheltered workshops than in regular work places. Since rehabilitation people are human, it is not uncommon or surprising that some of them prefer to take the easy path.
Blind people are placed in workshops even though the opportunity exists for their employment in the regular work place. If no workshops existed, the full potential of blind workers would more easily be achieved in the regular work place. Without doubt it is harder for a blind person to achieve employment in regular industry or business than it is to find employment in a sheltered workshop. Nonetheless, where no sheltered workshop exists, none should be established. Consistent with modern thinking (not to mention the Americans with Disabilities Act), blind people are entitled to receive training and achieve qualification for employment alongside our sighted peers. To spend the hundreds of thousands, even millions of dollars required to establish a workshop for the blind would be a blatant misuse of funds which could be far better spent in training and educating blind people and employers.
Some of the most determined adversaries of the blind are those well intentioned but uninformed sighted people who are determined to help us whether or not we want or need the help. There is no doubt in my mind that the Association for the Blind is determined to put itself in that category. They are engaging in a no-win proposition. One hundred years ago sighted people could dictate the direction of our lives. That is no longer true. I am personally acquainted with many members of the NFB of South Carolina, and I can assure you that they will offer insurmountable resistance to going backwards in anything that affects the well being of the blind of South Carolina. The Association for the Blind would do far better to devote its time, money, and energies toward training and employing blind people in the real world, working hand in hand with the NFB of South Carolina and the South Carolina Commission for the Blind. If they are determined to refuse this advice, they should know that in spite of their good intentions they will be doing harm to blind people. They will waste their money as well as that of blind people who resist them, and ultimately they will lose--not only individual battles like this one, but also the war.
This may be more background than you desired, but believe it or not, this is the short version. Please feel free to share this letter with Miss Ewing. It may not be what she wants to hear, but I think it is important that she understand her efforts, though well meant, are neither desired nor acceptable.
While I am critical of workshops generally and totally opposed to the establishment of new ones, please recognize that I think BISM is a rare exception. BISM is currently operating in accordance with principles of well-run manufacturing businesses. Although it is a not-for-profit corporation, BISM management recognizes that not-for-profit is a tax status, not an operating philosophy. BISM is better today than ever before. It is not as good as it someday will be, given a continuing commitment to progressive thinking and partnership with the blind. Thanks for your interest, and keep up the good work at BISM.
Best regards,
Don Morris
P.S. I am enclosing two copies of a reference book titled What You Should Know about Blindness, Services for the Blind, and the Organized Blind Movement. One copy is for your use. Please forward the other copy to Miss Ewing.
Enclosure: Copy of Gashel panel presentation from December, 1990, Braille Monitor. "Fair Labor Standards: What Blind Workers Need to Know About Their Rights."
[PHOTO: Portrait. CAPTION: Michael Freeman.]
by Michael Freeman
Michael Freeman and his wife Barbara live in the state of Washington, where Michael is a computer programmer for a large utility company. Here he writes thoughtfully of a small incident, which deepened his and his wife's understanding of the ingrained public attitudes about blindness.
Throughout history blindness has been misunderstood by almost everyone. The word blind has had connotations of helplessness, witlessness, and lack of discernment. Blindness has been (and still is, to some extent) considered a stigma and a badge of shame; for this reason many blind persons are hesitant to admit that they are blind and try to avoid any action such as reading Braille or carrying a cane which would categorize them as blind.
Every thoughtful blind person is aware of this stigma. Indeed, although I acknowledged its existence, I rejected it from an early age. Joining the National Federation of the Blind only increased my awareness of this stigma and strengthened my resolve to overcome it. However, its impact was brought home to my wife and me when we were on a trip a number of years ago. We had gone to the National Center for the Blind, headquarters of the National Federation of the Blind, in Baltimore, Maryland, to participate in a leadership seminar. We flew on United Airlines, making a change of planes in Chicago. I had traveled to the seminar using an aluminum cane; while in Baltimore, I bought an NFB fiberglass cane. On the return trip, therefore, I carried two canes.
We again had to change planes in Chicago. My wife, who is sighted, offered to carry one of my canes since I had my hands full with a briefcase and the other cane. Neither of us was prepared for her reaction. As we walked together between concourses, she felt strange and extremely conspicuous. It was late at night and we were the only people walking the corridors. It made no difference. She felt self-conscious and uncomfortable.
My wife considered herself a staunch Federationist and, intellectually, at least, had embraced the concept that it is respectable to be blind. Nevertheless, when put to the test, the indoctrination of a lifetime came to the fore and she felt, if not shame, at least discomfort that she might be viewed as blind.
The story does not end here, however. As the years have passed, my wife has carried canes for me on several occasions with little thought or notice. Since she has now met hundreds of competent blind people, the experience of carrying a cane no longer produces a painful negative reaction; my wife has come to view blindness as a characteristic--one of many exhibited by humankind and of which a person need not be ashamed. Indeed, we have experienced in our own lives the truth of the Federation statement that it is respectable to be blind and that we in the National Federation of the Blind are changing what it means to be blind.
[PHOTO: Portrait. CAPTION: Jody Ianuzzi.]
by Jody W. Ianuzzi
From the Editor: When I was in college, I used a folding cane. To be more accurate, I carried a folding cane and used it as little as I could contrive. My mobility method of preference was to find a person (preferably male) who was going my way and hitch-hike. I was both amused and flattered the day that a friend burst into my room to say that one of her freshman residence hall students had stormed into her room to report that there was a woman student on campus pretending to be blind in order to take the arm of male students! It was years before I came to recognize that this misconstruction of my behavior was no particular compliment to me, despite the reactions of my friends. Only if one believed that sight was an indication of virtue, intelligence, beauty, or strength, could my hypocritical masquerade be interpreted as an admirable performance. I now understand that blindness is neither good nor bad, and blind people, measured by that characteristic only, are neither virtuous nor depraved, worthy of neither pity nor praise.
It takes most of us a long time to arrive emotionally at this rather obvious assessment. And in the meantime the white cane, because it powerfully symbolizes blindness, frequently takes on all the negative connotations of blindness itself. That is why we often invite new members of the Federation to examine their attitudes toward their canes. One can discover a good bit about one's adjustment to blindness by considering how one feels about the cane and the kind of independence its appropriate use provides.
Jody Ianuzzi is the President of the Monadnock Chapter of the National Federation of the Blind of New Hampshire. Like me she has been thinking about her long white cane. Here is what she has to say:
Not so long ago I was one of those low vision people who are convinced that they don't really need to use a white cane. If I bent over and stared at the ground three feet in front of me, I would only occasionally trip over a miscalculated step. I would bump into people, but I told myself that happened only because I wasn't paying attention. To quote my teenage son--"Not."
Now I would feel naked if I left the house without my cane. I will admit that this change in my attitude was not an easy process for me. It took several years and a lot of soul-searching to reach this point. I can thank the writers of the many wonderful articles on cane travel that have appeared in the Braille Monitor over the years for their perspective and encouragement.
The simple fact of the matter is that the only person I was fooling by not using a cane was me. It was the same old story that is always true of blind people with a little residual vision: everyone recognizes that you are blind but you. The breakthrough for me was the realization that I would rather walk tall as a competent blind person than work my way down the street bent over, trying to see where I was going, and not giving a very good impression. How much easier travel is now! My problem wasn't my vision; it was my attitude.
This poor attitude was even conveyed to my son. When I first started using my cane, I was self-conscious, and my son said, "Mom, put that thing away; everyone is looking at you." As my attitude changed, so did his. He later said to me, "Hey Mom, everyone is looking at you because you are doing such a good job." Out of the mouths of babes!
When I talk to blind kids about using a cane, they always object that people will notice them. My answer is, "Sure, people will notice; people notice everything: whether you are thin or fat, short or tall, red-haired or blond. Some people are even dying their hair green to become more noticeable. So what if they notice you use a cane. You don't have to hide your cane; it is a symbol of your independence."
A proud car owner washes and waxes his car because it is his symbol of freedom and independence. He can't travel efficiently without it, and he wants it always to look as good as possible. For the same reasons I take care of my canes. I have never been known to leave well enough alone, so I have customized my canes.
I use an NFB telescoping cane. But let's face it, it is plain white, so why not spruce it up with a fancy handle? I have found a variety of grips that I add to my canes. My favorite one is a steering wheel cover. These are available in a variety of styles and colors and can be found in most discount stores. Other covers you might like to use are golf and tennis racket grips. (These are as close to a steering wheel or tennis racket as I'm going to get.) They look great, and they are practical as a non- slip grip when you are wearing gloves. So you can have a sporty cane or a fancy cane or an elegant cane. You can pick the style you want to match the occasion.
You can now buy reflective tape in most discount or hardware stores (similar to ScotchLite, but easier to apply). You can't tape the telescoping canes without sacrificing the capacity to collapse the cane when convenient, but I put some reflective tape on my rigid cane for night use. I feel more comfortable knowing it is a little more visible at night.
When it snows, I use a rigid cane. I added a red reflective tip to my snow cane because I have heard that a white cane is very hard for people to see in the snow. If it is snowing hard, I increase my visibility by wearing an orange hunter's hat.
When I first started using my cane, I carried it in an umbrella case so no one would see it. Now I have a cane for all occasions and a few spares. It's all in your attitude, so have fun!
[PHOTO: Portrait. CAPTION: John W. Smith.]
THE
AMERICAN WAY:
THE EVOLUTION OF A FEDERATIONIST
by John W. Smith
Dr. John W. Smith teaches speech communication at the Indiana University at South Bend. He has not been a Federationist for long, but he clearly grasps what commitment to this movement means and what it gives to those who allow themselves to stretch and grow into its philosophy and activity. Here is what he has to say:
I joined the National Federation of the Blind about two years ago when I began attending meetings of the Michiana Chapter of the NFB of Indiana in South Bend. I was privileged to attend the National Convention in Charlotte last year. As a new member of the organized blind movement, I was overwhelmed by both the positive attitudes and the excitement I observed and experienced at that time.
My original hesitation in joining the movement had been based on many half-truths and assumptions. I had assumed that statements I had heard such as "Those guys are too militant" and "All they do is moan and groan about every little thing" were the gospel. I subconsciously absorbed these assertions and images without bothering to do my usual objective investigation to find the facts. I am not too big to own up to my failure to gather accurate information and my absolute ignorance.
But as a new member of the movement, I began reading the Monitor and attending local chapter meetings. Airline issues kept surfacing in the NFB literature I read and in many comments at local chapter meetings. Some of my original ambivalence returned because I had never experienced discrimination as a blind person, or so I thought. In fact, I always prided myself on being as normal as possible, which meant to me behaving as though I were not blind at all. This state of denial was often reinforced when people would say to me, "You don't even act as if you can't see. You don't carry a cane, you don't have a dog, and we even feel comfortable telling you our jokes about blindness." I am both ashamed and appalled that I accepted such comments as compliments as long as I did. I have since come to recognize that my behavior and actions were based solely on ignorance, arrogance, and foolishness.
The airlines problems were very real, and the Federation's response to those issues was appropriate. As a babe in the movement, I often read the accounts of Federationists dealing with prejudice and discrimination from the airline industry. However, after reading those accounts, I sometimes concluded that these people were making a mountain out of a mole hill. Then it happened to me.
I had to take a trip from South Bend to Nashville, Tennessee, and after doing some investigation, I discovered that American Airlines, through its subsidiary American Eagle, had the only direct flight. I arrived at the airport at least thirty minutes in advance of my scheduled departure time, and I was told that I would receive assistance in boarding the aircraft, which was a Saab 340, a small, thirty-four-seat capacity plane. The assistance consisted of an employee's walking out of the terminal and boarding the aircraft with me. I had no problems with the offered assistance. I informed the airline attendant that I would take an elbow and proceed to the aircraft. All went smoothly until I boarded the plane.
First I was informed that, when I got to Nashville, I would have to be put in a wheelchair to be transported through the airport. This was the only way that I could receive assistance. This policy caught me off guard, but I didn't think much about it. In fact, the flight attendant told me she thought the policy was flexible enough to give me the choice to use the wheelchair or not.
The second disturbing thing occurred when I was given a copy of the safety regulations for the American Eagle Saab 340. One area of the manual caught my attention, the section that dealt with evacuation procedures. The gist of the statement was the warning not to take the white cane along in case of an emergency disembarkation because it might cause problems for other passengers. I thought to myself that, if a blind person had to jump from the plane and move quickly away from the crash site, a cane would be a vital asset. Two years ago I would have been glad for any opportunity to abandon my cane, but I concluded, as the attendant took my copy of the regulations, that, if something happened, my cane would go with me.
The plane landed in Nashville without incident, but my saga was just beginning. The flexible policy the flight attendant had mentioned was a figment of her imagination. I was told that I could not even come down the plane's stairs until the wheelchair was secured at the bottom step. I was also told that no one else would be allowed to exit the plane until I was safely seated in the wheelchair. Every fiber of my being protested at this policy, but I did so out loud only mildly because I did not want to hold up the rest of the passengers, and I needed to get to my hotel as quickly as possible. I plopped myself down in that chair and let the southern female airline employee roll me to an elevator and then up to the terminal. It was very windy and cold as well as icy, and my chauffeur almost fell several times as she continued to apologize to me for this ridiculous policy. While I did not want to take out my frustration on her, I decided that American Eagle needed some investigating and educating.
One of the lessons I had learned as a new Federationist was the importance of networking and cultivating contacts with those in high places. I have a friend who has worked for American Airlines for about twenty-five years. I later discussed this policy with her, and she assured me that she would get some answers for me, as well as passing on the addresses of appropriate individuals for me to contact. Believe me--she will, and I will!
On my return trip I was again presented with the wheelchair, and again I wanted to refuse it, but there were extenuating circumstances. It was the morning after the great late winter blizzard that hit the eastern part of the country. The Nashville airport was a zoo. I stood in line for over an hour just to get my seat assignment. In order not to miss my flight, I grudgingly allowed an elderly gentleman with a severe case of asthma to chauffeur me through the airport. His asthma was so bad that every two or three minutes he stopped to rest and catch his breath. I thought to myself, "This policy is going to kill this gentleman, and I'm still going to miss my flight." I felt so sorry for him that I offered to change positions.
This absurd policy implies that American Airlines knows what is best for its blind passengers, regardless of their individual circumstances. The policy must be abolished or changed to allow for the option of choice. As my experience demonstrates, the policy places an undue burden on American Airlines personnel and on the people the policy is intended to help. This policy is representative of what has occurred and is continuing to occur in our society as a whole. Members of a small body make laws and decide policies for a group, whether or not members of that group want or need them. This is not the American way. The American way encourages choice, self-sufficiency, and individuality. As a blind African American, I have often been told how I should feel and what I should think and do; and I often respond quite differently, as is my right. That's the American way.
As an evolving Federationist I must continue to grow and apply the knowledge I have learned and will continue to glean from experienced veterans of the movement. In this case, I tried to apply the lesson I gleaned from the March, 1993, issue of the Braille Monitor. Here the associate editor states:
Every Federationist has a responsibility to educate the public about the abilities of blind people whenever and wherever the opportunity occurs. Sometimes this consists of imparting information. Sometimes it means objecting strenuously to injustice or discrimination. Sometimes it requires tactful criticism of inadvertent or unconscious discrimination. (p. 133)
The first part of this lesson I attempted to apply when I contacted my influential friend at American Airlines. The second part of the lesson I will apply when writing strong letters to the appropriate parties. Finally, the third part of this lesson I applied when my southern belle and asthmatic chauffeurs were wheeling me through the Nashville Airport and I was busy telling them what I thought of American Airline's ridiculous policy.
Fellow Federationist, take heart from a recent convert. Our task is great, and the mills of education grind exceeding slow. Yet every victory, no matter how great or small, brings us closer to the day when all of God's children, the blind and sighted alike, will be truly free. That is the American way.
[PHOTO: David Ticchi in a classroom having a discussion with a student. CAPTION: David Ticchi loves teaching, and the thing he enjoys most is exchanging ideas with students.]
by David Ticchi
Dr. David Ticchi delivered the following address in Charlotte, North Carolina, at the 1992 meeting of the National Association of Blind Educators, the teachers division of the National Federation of the Blind. It was first printed in the Spring/Summer, 1993, issue of the Blind Educator, the publication of the National Association of Blind Educators. Here it is:
During this past year I accepted a position as an executive producer for a Public Broadcasting System (PBS) documentary. As the production filming was concluding, most of my research at the Harvard Graduate School of Education was simultaneously finishing, and I was beginning to think about the next step in my career. In the past I had taught seventh-grade English and had worked for major corporations.
One day my phone rang. A good friend, who is now a high school principal and with whom I had worked in the Newton Public Schools, was calling to ask if I would consider working in a new program called the Instructional Support Services (ISS). I would be a substitute teacher. Laughingly I reminded him that he was supposed to be a friend. Substituting is hard work! He assured me that the assignment would be a permanent faculty position, stationed at one high school for the entire school year and creating continuity in classroom instruction in the event of another faculty member's absence. It was not to be a babysitting chore.
After much hemming and hawing I decided this might be a good way to return to teaching at the high school level, and I accepted the offer. It turned out to be a wonderful experience for me.
Once I signed the contract, I visited the school to acquaint myself with the surroundings. The school of about 2,000 students includes four levels and a technical vocational institute. This is one of the newly designed schools with no straight hallways. This prohibits teachers from observing student activity for much distance. However, it is a very impressive physical plant.
Let me tell you what a usual day was like. Since public transportation was not an option, for the twenty-five minute ride to school I car-pooled with three other teachers from the area where I live.
I reported to the office at 8:00 A.M. and was given a daily assignment at that time. This past year I taught everything from Ancient Greek History to Zoology. Classes began at 8:15 A.M., and I went to the first period class, where attendance was taken and where I could find the lesson plans, if the regular teacher had written them. In this school teachers are not stationed in one classroom permanently but might go to several different rooms during the day. Therefore, as a substitute I might well teach a different subject each period in a different place, with or without a lesson plan available. Getting the attendance list two minutes before class did not allow for Brailling time and really required me to relate to the students in a way which portrayed me as the teacher and manager--the person in control. At the same time it was necessary to have the students' full cooperation.
I can tell you from experience that students do not treat a blind teacher any differently than they do a sighted instructor. Their antics have not changed much over the years. Misbehaving, cheating, and tardiness are all still alive and well in America. The interaction between the teacher and students is the function of the rapport we establish. Being sighted does not guarantee rapport; it is a function of our individual personalities. No matter what, any teacher must be prepared for the unexpected. That became abundantly clear to me my very first day.
I walked into the classroom that first day, introduced myself, explained how blind teachers achieve the same results as sighted teachers, and announced that I was an ISS substitute teacher. When asked what ISS meant, I told them it means, "I SAID SO!" From then on the students and I got along just fine. Together we made it through the class with each student making a contribution to its smooth operation, accomplishing tasks and assignments, and gaining a feeling of responsibility. The students felt a very important part of that class.
This entire teaching experience was wonderful because, as the year went on, I had the opportunity to meet and interact with most of the students in the school. At first I was a stranger, but that feeling was soon gone. The more classes I taught (including auto mechanics; biology; sewing; and all kinds of history, mathematics, and technical/vocational courses), the more students I became acquainted with. But more important, the more I taught, the more the students got to know me.
One sewing class was particularly memorable. Not knowing much about sewing or sewing machines, I reversed the roles of student and teacher. As it happened, I had two loose buttons on my shirt, and I asked a couple of the students if they would use me as an example and teach me how to sew these buttons back on securely. I stripped off my coat, tie, and shirt, and we fixed those buttons together. We all learned from this experience, and they had the opportunity to see me as just a regular person.
In this one school year of substitute teaching I discovered that I really do want to go back into the education profession. I have applied for a permanent teaching assignment for the next school year, but if none is available, I will substitute again in the same program. I remember one of my math teacher friends saying, "We teach if the students let us teach." I was treated as a peer by the faculty and staff, and I was treated with respect by the students. But to me the more important thing was gaining recognition from the students.
This past year I was treated as an equal. Our school has an outstanding, nationally recognized newspaper. Many times we as blind persons are excluded when printed information is distributed because people think that we cannot get it read or that we are not interested. They assume that, since we cannot see, we don't want the information, and they simply choose not to deal with us.
Every two weeks the school paper is handed out at each building entrance by students standing by the door. I cannot tell you the wonderful feeling I had the day I walked into the school, and a student asked if I would like a copy of the paper. The student knew me and had no concerns about how I would read the paper. I was just another faculty member to that student. That particular experience meant a lot to me.
One thing I have learned during my career is that it is very important for blind teachers to be visible. That visibility, the reputation you build, the rapport and relationships you develop-- these are the things that create career opportunities. For those who want to get into the profession, my advice is to volunteer, find a teacher you can assist, be a substitute teacher, anything. Just find your way into a school. You will learn, you will gain experience, and people will see that you are a capable individual. More important, they will be comfortable with you. Your performance can and will facilitate your employment.
[PHOTO: Portrait. CAPTION: Ken Silberman.]
BLINDNESS AND THE BROOKLYN BRIDGE
by Kenneth Silberman
What does blindness have to do with the Brooklyn Bridge? Let Kenneth Silberman tell you:
I grew up in Cheltenham, Pennsylvania, a suburb of Philadelphia. At the age of five, I entered kindergarten just like all the other kids, but something was different. I couldn't see as much detail or see as far as the others. No matter, I was still participating in all the activities of the class without serious difficulty.
Grades one through six were a different ball game altogether. Reading, writing, and arithmetic are subjects that require the use of written symbols. For the sighted, this means print, written on sheets of paper, in books, or on the blackboard. In order to read print at all, I needed large print, magnification, or a place to sit up close to the board. No matter which technique I employed, I couldn't read very fast or for very long. As the years rolled by, the workload increased, and I had more and more trouble keeping up. It was true that I couldn't see very well, but I was sighted (at least that was what I thought) and should have been able to keep up. But I couldn't and felt stupid because of that fact. I developed an increasing sense of inferiority with each passing year.
In September of my ninth-grade year, I lost my remaining sight. At the time, I thought a catastrophe had befallen me. (I did not yet know about the National Federation of the Blind.) I was blind, but I wasn't going to admit it. I used a cane as little as I could and never indoors.
After all, the last thing I wanted to do was to walk around with a badge of blindness in my hand. Braille was a badge too, and I wasn't going to have anything to do with it either. Besides, it was slow. And after all, there were tape recorders for reading and taking notes. Never mind that I could not keep up and that I could not follow the math, spell, or punctuate. I was blind, and I was doing the best that I could. These were my thoughts at the time. With a few delays, I continued puttering along in this way through my undergraduate years and most of my graduate years as well.
I was really depressed by this time because I couldn't perform assignments in a timely manner, travel by myself, or do much of anything independently. Blindness was a pretty raw deal, or so I thought.
As I now know but didn't then, the characteristic of blindness wasn't the real problem. Rather, my attitudes about blindness were the real raw deal. I remember walking down the hall one day in high school, and a passing teacher remarked, "I can't tell you're blind." I thought this was a real compliment at the time. As I look back on those early years, I realize that I did not think of myself as blind, nor did I understand what it means to be blind.
As a result of this mistaken notion, I denied myself the tools that would have helped me to succeed. If I had accepted and understood my blindness, I would have decided to use Braille as my primary reading and writing medium, since a good Braille reader can read three hundred to four hundred words per minute, and would have appreciated print as a helpful aid. I also would have used a white cane since it would have kept me from tripping over and walking into things.
I discovered after a number of painful lessons that it's better to find things with a cane than with your face. By using these techniques, I would have been able to keep right in step with the crowd. Later, when I lost the remainder of my sight, I would have been able to keep right on going without missing a beat. But of course, I knew none of this, and I could not have been expected to.
I was at my lowest emotional point in 1985 when I applied for and won a scholarship from the National Federation of the Blind. I needed money, so I applied. When I arrived at the National Convention in Louisville, Kentucky, I found, much to my astonishment, blind people who were happy and successful.
They were traveling about with facility and were reading and writing Braille as deftly as sighted people use print, and they were using these skills to hold down responsible jobs, run households, etc. It was at this time that I started to understand that blindness was not my problem; my attitudes about blindness were the problem.
I had thought the skills of blindness were inferior because they didn't appear on the surface to be like those of the sighted. Hence, I had thought the blind were inferior; I had thought I was inferior. And so, I had denied my blindness. (You must understand. I had only known sighted people up to this point.) But the evidence was clear. The alternative techniques of blindness enable us to live full and rich lives just as the sighted do. I now realize that while the money was very helpful, I received a much more valuable gift, The National Federation of the Blind.
I had a choice. I could either deal with the situation or continue as before. I decided to get to work. I picked up some books on Braille and set about learning it. It was hard to go to school and learn Braille at the same time, but I knew that I had to either learn it or drop out. The latter was not acceptable, and I couldn't deal with things as they were any longer.
By the time I graduated, I was doing much of my school work in Braille. I continued to use taped books and readers in conjunction with Braille. All these techniques have their place. In January, 1987, I received my master's degree in aerospace engineering from Cornell University.
After graduation, I enrolled in a rehabilitation program in order to develop my Braille and cane skills. I continued to work on my outlook toward blindness by drawing strength from my newfound Federation friends.
Finally, it was time to look for a job. After a little more than a year, I secured employment with the U.S. Navy in Philadelphia. I really got the opportunity to test my newly-developed skills and my mettle in that job. I had had only one computer course in college and was now expected to learn how to write databases on the job. I did it. This is quite an accomplishment for anyone, blind or sighted.
Today, I work as an administrator/engineer for the National Aeronautics and Space Administration. I manage the Publications group for the National Space Science Data Center. This means that I am responsible for making sure that the group's work gets done and that the work comes in under budget. I also serve on various committees and am currently trying to expand my computer skills.
How do my alternative techniques compare with those of my sighted colleagues? Let's compare a few of them. I use a reader to help me with paperwork; my boss uses a secretary. My co-workers take notes with pens and pencils; I use a slate and stylus to write Braille. My colleagues use a computer with the help of a monitor and a printer; I use a computer with the help of a speech synthesizer and a Braille embosser. My fellow employees travel about safely with the help of sight; I travel about safely with the help of my white cane. The sighted have techniques that work for them, and the blind have techniques that work equally well.
My professional objective is to become a senior administrator in America's space program. In reaching that goal, I will be helping to build upon the foundation, the record of achievement and success, built by past generations of Federationists. Those who came before us worked to give us the opportunities that we have today. It is up to us to make life better for future generations of blind people.
I still don't have all of the skills and self-confidence that I need, but I am working on it. I am able to improve myself because I now see blindness for what it is, a characteristic, a mere physical nuisance. By utilizing the alternative techniques of blindness, I can and do compete on equal terms with my sighted colleagues.
When the Brooklyn Bridge was built [1869-1883], engineers of the day said that it couldn't be done. John Augustus Roebling and his son, Colonel Washington Roebling, believed that it could, and they had the know-how to build it. The real obstacle to the project was not the techniques needed to build the bridge. Rather, it was the entrenched, traditional ideas of the engineering community. But the Roeblings knew the truth. They had the knowledge and the leadership to go beyond the conventional wisdom of their day. Were they right? The answer spans the East River today, more than a century after its construction.
We, the blind of the nation, have the know-how to lead full and rich lives. Like the Roeblings, we have to believe in ourselves and need to have the leadership to make our dreams of equality come true. Since 1940, we have encouraged and supported each other. Since 1940, we have shared our collective know-how. And since 1940, we have had the leadership to climb within reach of equality and first-class citizenship. In other words, since 1940, we have had the National Federation of the Blind.
THE MOUNTBATTEN BRAILLER AND BRAILLE LITERACY
by Tim Connell
Tim Connell is a Director of Quantum Technologies in Sydney, Australia, producer of the Mountbatten Brailler. This year he is working with Human Ware, Inc., the Brailler's American distributor.
Almost anyone who reads and writes Braille is familiar with the Perkins Brailler. Not many of us, however, have tried or even observed the Mountbatten Brailler. It seemed to us to be in the best interest of the Braille-writing public to publish information about this interesting new piece of equipment. Here is what Mr. Connell has to say about it:
This article is about the Mountbatten Brailler: what it is, what it does, and why it is important to the literacy of blind children in America. It is essential that we organize our efforts behind a plan to promote Braille literacy in schools and advocate the Mountbatten Brailler as one of the most diverse and effective means available to teachers for the successful accomplishment of this vital goal.
At present we are witnessing a resurgence of interest in teaching Braille; however, the fact remains that only twelve percent of visually impaired people in America are Braille- literate. In 1965 fifty percent of visually impaired people were Braille literate (ref: National Literacy Hotline).
One of the reasons for this decline has been the belief that computers with speech synthesizers would remove or minimize the need to learn Braille. This view is still held by some, though they are now in an ever decreasing minority. The following poem is dedicated to them. When this poem is spoken by a voice synthesizer, it sounds correct. When it is run through a spelling checker, no errors are detected. Read on!
The Hearing Herd
Now I no computers are
not always write,
But they are pretty good for people with no site.
Just like this poem, I can be shore,
My writing has improved so much moor.
In just a while I'm applying four a job,
I know my resume will leave them all agog.
Get with it kid's; don't
learn Braille,
Be dependant on electronic mail.
If your blind they'll understand,
Its just two hard to reed with your hand.
You'll find those dots are for the birds,
Come join us hear in the hearing heard.
Literacy is the fundamental building block upon which an individual's educational potential is established. Braille literacy is every bit as important for a person who cannot read print as print is for the sighted, and the work of the National Federation of the Blind in focusing attention on Braille literacy is to be widely applauded.
Literacy includes both reading and writing. To teach children to become literate in Braille, they must read, not listen. To do this, they need a Braille keyboard to write on and immediate Braille output to read, i.e., a Braille writer. The only Braille writer that is being used widely in American schools is the Perkins.
The Mountbatten Brailler was developed primarily as an electronic alternative to the Perkins Braille writer. Why should we use the Mountbatten Brailler instead of the Perkins? Many people would say that the Perkins was fine for their education. As a matter of fact, they still use it, so why should schools do things any differently? That is a plausible argument, but not one applied to the education of sighted children, and the lack of fifty-year-old mechanical typewriters in schools today will reaffirm my point.
It is not my intention to denigrate the Perkins; it has served hundreds of thousands of people around the world very satisfactorily and reliably for nearly fifty years. However, in today's electronic environment it is both limited and limiting.
One of the most significant advantages of the Mountbatten Brailler is the keyboard. It has the same feel as a computer keyboard (light touch and positive click). But most important, it has been designed ergonomically. This means that each key is under a finger when the hand is at rest. Both sides of the keyboard are offset a little, forming a wide print V, so that there is no need to bend the wrists. These factors add up to a stress-free keyboard that greatly reduces the risk of repetitive strain injuries (such as carpal tunnel syndrome, arthritis, etc.). It is also much easier to use than the Perkins, especially for young children just starting out with Braille or for anyone with special keyboard needs.
The Mountbatten Brailler keyboard also teaches the skills needed to progress to a computer keyboard. The Perkins keyboard teaches all the wrong keyboard skills, such as using a lot of force and incorrect positioning of the hands and wrists. This was unimportant when the likelihood of a student's using a computer during the rest of his or her education was remote, but today it is highly probable that all students will be using computers at some stage.
The Mountbatten Brailler also has all the basic features one would expect to find in an electronic typewriter. These include auto correction (yes, it actually flattens dots), selectable tabs and margins, and the ability to use paper of any size or thickness. The Mountbatten Brailler also has a memory so that documents can be stored and reprinted at a later stage. In the standard unit the memory is 32K, or about forty pages of Braille, and can be expanded to 160K or two hundred twenty pages of Braille. The memory can also be used to store a letterhead, for example, or a Braille form, and multiple copies can be printed as needed. For silent note-taking, information can be typed directly into memory without the Brailler printing, or it can be done, of course, with the Brailler printing.
In the classroom the Mountbatten Brailler provides a gentle introduction to basic computer concepts, like naming and saving a file and retrieving a file from memory. With this training, moving on to a computer is a natural progression.
While these features are exciting to most Perkins users, we should not forget that typewriters with these features were available twenty years ago. Why has it taken so long for Braille- writing technology to catch up?
One of the main reasons is the size of the financial investment required to develop a Braille writing device from scratch. More than three million dollars was spent over a period of eight years to bring the Mountbatten Brailler to market. Much of this money came from public sources, primarily the Mountbatten Trust in the United Kingdom and the Australian Government. With such a large amount of money invested, considerable time was spent making sure that the Mountbatten Brailler would meet the needs of the people who would be using it.
Over a hundred organizations from around the world (including the National Federation of the Blind) had input and made recommendations about what the Mountbatten Brailler should be. The resulting specifications, therefore, reflect the views of a wide cross section of the world's blind community. The two highest priorities were that it should be electronic and portable (battery operated). The third was that it should be designed to avoid obsolescence. To achieve this, all the electronics are on a card that can be changed by the user. All upgrades will be done via this card, thereby protecting the original investment.
So, on the basis of its functions and features, few would disagree that the Mountbatten Brailler can make a valid claim to be the successor to the Perkins. The big question that follows is "What does it cost"?
The Mountbatten Brailler is sold as either of two packages: the Mountbatten Brailler Standard and the Mountbatten Brailler Educational Package. To compare the cost of the Mountbatten Brailler directly with the Perkins is unfair without first mentioning that the Mountbatten Brailler Standard, in addition to being a Braille writer, can also be used as a Braille embosser when connected to a computer.
This means that the Mountbatten Brailler will emboss Braille files sent from any type of computer (including Apple, IBM, and Braille note-takers like the Braille 'n Speak and the Eureka) in the same way other Braille embossers will. It is not as fast as dedicated Braille embossers, but for personal use it is very suitable and easy to use. Its ability to use paper of different widths and thicknesses is a distinct advantage. The Mountbatten Brailler also has a graphics mode and can be used for printing Braille graphics.
So the Mountbatten Brailler Standard at $2,495 means you are buying not only a Braille writer with numerous advantages over the Perkins, but also a Braille embosser.
Even if a child is not going to use the Mountbatten Brailler as a Braille embosser straight away, the fact that it is available in the classroom or home means that there is a greater likelihood that Braille will be produced. And, when the child progresses to a computer, it will not be necessary to raise the money for a separate Braille embosser. The Mountbatten Brailler may be more money, but clearly it is a better value.
Another significant factor in the decline of Braille literacy has been mainstreaming, where adequate resources are often not available to the student or the teachers. The problems that regular classroom teachers face are very real. There is a constant need to translate from print to Braille and Braille to print. The Mountbatten Brailler Educational Package has features that truly facilitate mainstreaming by overcoming these problems. It puts a whole range of capabilities into the hands of students and teachers that now exist only in resource centers or regional offices.
The Mountbatten Brailler Educational Package is the Mountbatten Standard with the addition of back and forward Braille translation software, additional memory, a connector box for connecting the Mountbatten Brailler to a range of other devices at the same time, serial and parallel cables, and a computer keyboard.
Undoubtedly one of the most important capabilities of the Mountbatten Brailler Educational Package is its capacity to allow a person to type on a standard computer keyboard and produce Braille on the Mountbatten Brailler. The keyboard is connected to the Mountbatten Brailler, so there are no software or special commands to be learned. Now anybody at all can produce Braille.
Before people purchase the Mountbatten Brailler, this feature is not always assessed as the most important, because it has never been available before. However, once it is in use, most people find it to be one of the most important features. The regular classroom teacher can now write up notes or any information in Braille. The school administration can write Braille letters to parents who are blind. In offices a sighted co-worker can leave messages in Braille for blind colleagues. A whole range of information that was never Brailled before is now available. This is not a threat to the role of the transcribers. Rather, it takes the pressure off them while producing a greater volume of Braille.
Apart from the importance of making Braille more accessible is the issue of privacy. No blind person needs to be told about the lack of privacy in reading personal communications.
When a Mountbatten Brailler is in a school, we find invitations to parties, birthday cards, Christmas cards, and the whole range of notes that kids write to each other put into Braille. Parents who don't know Braille can type up messages, letters, cards, and even lists of chores in Braille. The more Braille is written to communicate with blind students, the more these youngsters will use it, and the better the chances are that they will become proficient in its use. No other device exists that so encourages the production and use of Braille on a personal level. We expect sighted children to become literate, and in order to assist them in achieving this goal we give them textbooks, comics, magazines, environmental information (signs, advertising, etc.) as well as personal communications. Blind children get Braille textbooks and sometimes a small amount of recreational reading in Braille. This is not equal access to information, nor is it equal education. The Mountbatten Brailler helps bridge this gap.
The Mountbatten Brailler Educational Package costs $3,295, including all the options listed above. The translation software is contained in the Mountbatten Brailler. The forward translation software converts text into Grade II Braille. The text can be in a file on your computer or can be typed in directly from the additional computer keyboard.
The back translation software converts Grade II Braille into text. When Braille is typed onto the Mountbatten Brailler keyboard, a perfectly translated copy can be printed simultaneously on a printer. Any type of printer can be used. By use of the Connector Box, the Mountbatten Brailler can be connected to many devices at once, avoiding the time-consuming process of changing cables. By simply entering commands, the user can turn the Mountbatten Brailler into a Braille embosser, a forward translator, a memory note taker, and a back translation system. And don't forget it is still just a Braille writer. Just turn it on and write on it like a Perkins.
The Mountbatten Brailler brings Braille writing into the twentieth century, but as many have already noted, the twentieth century is nearly over. This is not a flippant remark. All the effort, time, and money that are being spent on promoting Braille literacy standards and legislation are being done without due consideration of the tools needed in schools for Braille literacy. The organized blind in this country must become the advocates to ensure that blind children are receiving the appropriate tools to enable them to live up to their potential.
The Mountbatten Brailler is a tool that will facilitate Braille literacy and mainstreaming. It is not the total solution, but it is an important part of the solution.
[PHOTO/CAPTION: David Andrews is pictured here describing some of the equipment on display in the International Braille and Technology Center for the Blind.]
PUTTING THE MOUNTBATTEN BRAILLER IN PERSPECTIVE
by David Andrews
David Andrews is the Director of the International Braille and Technology Center for the Blind, located at the National Center for the Blind in Baltimore. Part of his job is to assess the Braille-production and screen-review technology that comes on the market. When we received the preceding article from Tim Connell, we asked Mr. Andrews to take a good look at the Mountbatten Brailler and tell our readers what he thinks about it. Here is what he said:
During the past couple of years Braille literacy has received a lot of attention from professionals in the blindness field. This hasn't always been the case. We in the National Federation of the Blind have been beating the drum for Braille literacy for many years. Now suddenly it is in vogue to jump onto the Braille literacy bandwagon. A number of organizations have adopted the issue as their own, forgetting, if it suited their purposes, that this issue has come to the forefront of people's attention thanks to the long, hard, dedicated work of the organized blind movement. Ultimately, however, we are not looking for credit; we are dedicated to insuring that blind people (both kids and adults) become literate using Braille.
In addition to agencies for the blind, a number of vendors of technology products have also jumped onto the Braille literacy bandwagon. Some of them would have us believe that their products play a vital and unequaled role in our Braille literacy campaign. One example of this phenomenon, but not the only one, is the producer of the Mountbatten Brailler. This machine is manufactured by Quantum Technologies of Sydney, Australia, and imported and marketed by Human Ware, Inc., of Loomis, California. Let us first deal with the Mountbatten Brailler as a device, then consider its place in achieving Braille literacy.
We have all heard the definition of a camel as a horse designed by a committee. Though it may be stretching a point, in some ways the Mountbatten Brailler strikes me as a Braille writer designed by a technology committee, every member of which had individual notions of what was essential. It is fundamentally an electronic Braille writer which can also work as an electronic note taker similar to a Braille 'n Speak or a BrailleMate. The unit also has the capacity to back- and forward-translate Braille and transfer files to and from a PC. Finally, it can also be used with a regular computer keyboard to produce Grade 2 Braille.
The Mountbatten Brailler is approximately seventeen and one- half inches wide by nine inches deep by three and one-half inches high. It weighs ten and three quarters pounds and can run on its built-in batteries. According to its manufacturer, it can print approximately thirty pages of Braille while battery-operated. When used as an electronic note taker, without printing, it will operate for approximately sixteen hours. It has a carrying handle that slides out of the front of the machine and a plastic snap-on cover which protects the embossing area. However, it does not have a full carrying case.
The feel of the keyboard is more similar to a computer's than to a Perkins Braille Writer's. The keys are quiet and don't require much pressure. This would offer advantages to a young child or a person with physical weakness in the hands or arms. The keys differ from those of a Perkins Braille Writer in their placement and layout. The regular Brailling keys (Dots one, two, three, four, five, and six) are not lined up straight across the machine but are arranged in a shallow V shape. It does take some getting used to. The producer maintains that this layout keeps the user from twisting and therefore possibly injuring the hands and wrists. I don't know whether this is true, but the position did not strike me as being inherently more comfortable. This may, however, be because I am very familiar with the keyboard of the Perkins, so this one would take a good deal of getting used to.
There is a small round key located between the two sets of three Brailling keys, but this is not the space bar. It is the Command Key, used in conjunction with other keys to issue commands. The space bar and the line space keys are located in the middle, below the Brailling keys. For those used to the Perkins keyboard, this also takes a good deal of adjustment. I personally would prefer the space bar in the more traditional, higher location. However, I suspect the rationale is that with the lower placement the user can hit the space bar or line space keys easily with the thumbs while Brailling. The machine can produce either six- or eight-dot Braille. There are two extra keys with which to produce dots seven and eight. The machine also has the capacity to switch to a wide variety of foreign language Braille codes and keyboard layouts.
The Mountbatten Brailler can be set so that it automatically goes to the beginning of a new line when the user Brailles to the end of the current line. The embossing mechanism prints at about eight characters per second. A good Braillist can write faster than that, but the machine is able to buffer the characters and doesn't seem to drop any. When Brailling, the Mountbatten is a little on the noisy side; it makes a sharp clacking sound. This could be a disadvantage in a classroom. The machine is grey, black, yellow, and blue in color. The body is grey, and the keys are black or blue. The area under the keys and some other parts are yellow. When asked how the machine looked, one of my sighted colleagues responded, "It looks funny, like something Fisher Price would produce for children." This high-contrast color scheme is intended to aid the visually impaired. This feature holds no great appeal for me, but I suppose it may be of assistance to some, though I fail to understand what advantage is gained by watching the Brailling keys. My real objection is that such a color design is not typical of machines used in business and would draw more attention to my equipment than I would wish to receive.
The Mountbatten Brailler uses single sheets of Braille paper. It can handle a variety of thicknesses and sizes, and it adjusts to new paper automatically. Loading paper is a little tricky. The sheet must be all the way to the left, or the machine will not operate at all. It does not automatically position the paper for Brailling on the first line. The user must position the paper by hand so that the first line appears where he or she wishes. This is a little awkward because, if you are not careful, the paper will go crooked. I am afraid that the paper insertion is tricky enough to constitute a problem for small children, one of the target audiences for this device.
Most people will use the Mountbatten Brailler as an electronic Braille Writer. It does aid in correcting mistakes. The user can rub out an incorrect character and replace it with the right letter. There are actually two ways to correct a mistake. You can have the machine rub out the bad cell by pressing the space and backspace keys simultaneously. You can also replace the wrong letter with the proper one by pressing the new letter while pressing the backspace key. Though convenient, this method does not erase the dots as completely as the first.
Commands for the Mountbatten Brailler are issued from the keyboard. In general you first press the Command Key, then type in the command, and terminate input by pressing the Margin Release key, located on the right side of the machine. While there are a large number of commands, most of them are logical words or mnemonic abbreviations for words or phrases. As an electronic Braille Writer, note taker, printer, and translator the Mountbatten has a full complement of easy-to-use features. It is also possible to move text to and from a computer and do basic page formatting.
A good manual in Braille is provided with the machine. Interestingly enough, we have received a number of very expensive Braille devices in the International Braille and Technology Center for the Blind without Braille manuals or with totally inadequate manuals. The Mountbatten manual is divided into several volumes. Each is self-contained, and you can tackle a new one as you need the features it offers. There are, for example, a basic manual, an advanced manual, and manuals for forward- and back-translation. The manuals are well written and easy to understand. There are also instructions for using the Mountbatten with other devices such as the Braille 'n Speak and the Eureka A4.
The Mountbatten Brailler comes in two models. The Mountbatten Brailler Standard has 32K of memory, which will hold approximately thirty-five to forty pages of text. It costs $2,595. The Mountbatte