Future Reflections
The National Federation of the Blind Magazine for Parents and Teachers of Blind Children
Vol. 22, No. 3 Fall 2003
Barbara Cheadle, Editor
Construction on the 170,000-square-foot National Federation of the Blind Research and Training Institute has been moving steadily forward through this past summer and into the fall. Located in South Federal Hill, Baltimore, Maryland, this facility will be the nation's first center dedicated to the development of innovative technology, education, and training for the blind led by the blind. Join us on January 30, 2004, at 5:30 p.m. for the Grand Opening Celebration. Tour the new facility, and enjoy a wonderful evening of fun and entertainment. Individual tickets are $50. For more information contact Dr. Betsy Zaborowski, Director of Special Programs, (410) 659-9314 ext. 357, or email <bzaborowski@nfb.org>.
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Future Reflections
The National Federation of the Blind Magazine for Parents and Teachers of Blind Children
1800 Johnson Street Baltimore,
Maryland 21230
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CONTENTS
A Typical School Day in the Life of a Blind Fourth Grader
by Barbara Cheadle
Making the Tough Choice: The School for the Blind or Not?
by Crystal McClain
Textbooks on Time: A Progress Report on the
IMAA and the Reauthorization of IDEA
by James McCarthy
My Long Journey from Partially Sighted to Really Blind
by Michele Gittens
Why Megan is Learning Braille
by Marla Palmer
Building Dreams for Blind Children One Page at a Time:
A Report on the Braille Readers Are Leaders Program
by Aloma Bouma
Braille Readers Are Leaders Expands Program
by Barbara Cheadle
Receiving a High School Diploma in New Mexico
by Jennifer McClarin
Learning About the Stars
by Penny Leigh
Facts-on-Hand: IEP Goals and Objectives
Equal Access to a Black and White World
by Ryan Osentowski
NFB-NEWSLINEÒ Application
Book Review: Finding a New Path: Guidance for Parents of Young
Children Who Are Visually Impaired or Blind
Review by Barbara Mathews
Child’s Play: Toys for Children with Disabilities
by Lynn Swanson
What’s Your Favorite Toy?
Chore Wars: Researcher Finds that Involving Young Children in Household Chores Pays off Later
by Liz Wolf
Why Blind Kids Need to do Chores
by Barbara Cheadle
A Firm Hold
by Lem Satterfield
Blind Students Give Advice
Books, Maps, and Other Touching Experiences
by Robert S. Jaquiss, Jr.
Tactile Educational Materials: Tips and Resources
by Robert S. Jaquiss, Jr.
[PHOTOS: Rachel uses the Braille Lite to write an essay.
[PHOTO: Rachel hangs up her coat; the school day begins.
[PHOTO: I know the answer! Rachel raises her arm while her homeroom teacher, Mrs. Birkholz, leads the class in a discussion.
[PHOTO: Mrs. Banks stays in the background as Rachel prints out an assignment.
[PHOTO: A Typical School Day in the Life of a Blind Fourth Grader
[PHOTO: Cane in hand, Rachel hustles down the corridor to her next class.
[PHOTO: Mr. “Bill” Van Buskirk and Rachel cross a street during a mobility lesson.
[PHOTO: Rachel completes a mobility assignment: she locates a post office box and mails a letter.
[PHOTO: Rachel boards the bus at the end of her school day.
[PHOTO: Instructional assistant, Lee Banks, at her desk in Rachel’s homeroom.]
A Typical School Day in the Life of a Blind Fourth Grader
by Barbara Cheadle
What if the whole world assumed that it is normal for blind kids to go to regular schools, do regular classwork, eat lunch in the cafeteria with other kids, play with friends at recess, and generally be held accountable for the same work and the same standards of behavior as their classmates? What if accommodations and services for blind kids with additional disabilities were planned for and provided as matter-of-factly as school lunches? What would a school day in the life of a blind kid look like if we lived in a world like that? I think it might look a lot like the day I spent shadowing Rachel Becker at the Orchard Elementary School in Frederick, Maryland, a couple of years ago.
But I get ahead of myself. Let’s begin with a little background. Rachel Becker is a bright and perky thirteen-year-old who lives in the bustling, thriving little city of Frederick about fifty miles northwest of Baltimore, Maryland. Rachel was a baby, newly diagnosed as blind, when I dropped by her home many years ago to deliver a slate and stylus and some NFB literature to her mom. Her parents, Dan and Danielle, are a solid middle-class family, typical in many ways, and not so typical in others. They grieved—a little bit—when they found out Rachel was blind, but they didn’t wallow in it. The Beckers quickly adopted the attitude that blindness is no excuse for lowered expectations. Although Rachel would do some things differently, mostly she was just like other kids.
From the beginning, the Beckers had critical supports in place. They had a strong National Federation of the Blind affiliate that provided blind role models/mentors, a parents group, resource information, and a practical philosophy about blindness. They had a caring community, a loyal extended family, and a school district that willingly adopted the Becker’s can-do attitude. Another important support was a visual impairment program that was staffed with teachers well-trained in Braille, orientation and mobility, and other skills of blindness. The program also included qualified support staff: a Braille transcriber and an instructional assistant trained to provide Braille support. The education of a blind or visually impaired student requires a lot of advance planning, special (and often expensive) materials and equipment, ongoing training for personnel, careful monitoring, coordination, and constant vigilance. From day one, the relationship between the Beckers, the school, and the blindness professionals, was one based on mutual respect for the distinct roles of each and a common belief that, if they all did their jobs right and maintained high expectations, blindness did not need to limit Rachel.
And that brings us to the topic of this article. When Rachel Becker was in the fourth grade, I contacted the Becker family and asked if they could arrange for me to spend a day with her in school. My kids were all in college, and I wanted to stay in touch with the typical school scene. Besides, I was curious about what a school day looked like for a blind kid that, from all that I had observed, was fully included in her school, and was getting an education equal to her peers. And, of course, the experience had the makings of a good article.
The Beckers and the school were pleased to have me come, and so the necessary arrangements were made. The day of the shadowing, I arrived at Danielle’s home and she drove me to the Orchard Elementary School. I checked into the office, then was escorted to Rachel’s homeroom. There I met Rachel’s instructional assistant, Mrs. Lee Banks, and her homeroom teacher, Mrs. Birkholz. Later in the day I met Mr. Van Buskirk (or Mr. “Bill” as he is fondly called by his students), the teacher of the visually impaired/orientation and mobility instructor (TVI/O&M).
When I told the teachers that I wanted to write an article about Rachel’s school day, I was delighted to discover that Mrs. Banks, Rachel’s instructional assistant, had already written a narrative about Rachel’s school day only two months earlier. She wrote it, she said, as a progress report for the parents and other members of the IEP team. With the permission of Rachel’s parents, a rewritten version of that narrative follows my observations about Rachel’s school day
Like many elementary schools around the country, children in the Orchard Elementary School do not stay in one room with one teacher the entire school year. Although Rachel had a homeroom teacher with whom she began the day and with whom she had her key subjects of math and language arts, she, along with her classmates, left the homeroom for other subjects, or specials, as they were called—art, music, gym, and computers. Even core subjects, such as science and social studies, were conducted in different classrooms by different teachers. The fourth grade had one or two recesses a day and ate lunch (option of hot or bag lunch from home) together in a large cafeteria. The day I shadowed Rachel she had reading and math classes in her homeroom with her primary teacher, Mrs. Birkholz, and left the homeroom for music, science, and an orientation and mobility lesson. (The class had social studies the first half of the year and science the second half. I happened to come on the day the subjects were switched, so I observed Rachel’s first day of science class with a new teacher).
Mrs. Banks, the instructional assistant, had a desk in the corner of the homeroom where she sat and did her work (interlining Rachel’s Braille work with print, transcribing materials from print to Braille, preparing tactile materials, and so forth), and from which she could observe Rachel and provide prompts and help when needed. Mrs. Banks was everything Danielle (Rachel’s mom) had said she was—friendly, efficient, and competent. But most importantly, she demonstrated excellent judgement in providing—or refraining from providing—assistance to Rachel. She knew just when to step in, and how to do it unobtrusively. It was obvious that Mrs. Banks was constantly assessing her actions against the goal of furthering Rachel’s independence. Also, there was never any doubt about who was in charge of Rachel’s education: it was the teacher in charge of that class, whatever class it happened to be.
Although Mrs. Banks went with Rachel when she made her class changes that day for music and science, Mrs. Banks never sat next to Rachel. If needed, she moved briefly next to or behind Rachel, gave the prompt, then moved back to her seat as soon as possible.
For example, in the music class, she moved forward and gave Rachel a quick tactile prompt on the correct way to hold her musical instrument, then moved back to her seat. In science class the teacher took total responsibility for providing verbal and tactile cues to Rachel. She also used Rachel as her assistant for the demonstrations and hands-on activities so that all aspects of the lesson were immediately accessible to Rachel. After the class, I talked briefly with the science teacher. She has never taught a blind student, but she had observed how other teachers had worked with Rachel and had, therefore, assumed that she was up to the task. And she was. Mrs. Banks gave Rachel only one prompt in this class. When the teacher told the students their homework assignment, Rachel needed a reminder to take out her electronic notetaker (a Braille Lite) and write it down.
At lunch, I walked with Rachel and the other kids to the cafeteria and picked up a sandwich. However, instead of staying with Rachel in the cafeteria, I chose to go to the teacher’s lounge with Mrs. Birkholz, Rachel’s homeroom teacher, and talk with her. I was astounded to learn about the amount of content covered in today’s elementary school curriculum, not to mention the brisk pace this requires. Among other consequences of the faster pace is that the children have less time and fewer opportunities within the school day to socialize.
Rachel’s lunch period was twenty minutes and the one recess she had on the day I shadowed her was about fifteen minutes (some days they have two recess periods)—far less time than children had when I was in school. I noticed that Rachel’s classmates tended to engage in a lot of eye contact and visual, non-verbal socializing during class time when the teacher was otherwise occupied. Smiles, frowns, gestures, mouthing words silently, passing notes—children have always engaged in these behaviors. However, I suspect that these activities make up a far larger percentage of the social time in school than ever before.
It’s no wonder that Rachel’s mother had expressed to me concerns about Rachel’s social opportunities at school. It wasn’t that Rachel was without friends, or that she wasn’t liked or accepted by her classmates, but there was an entire level of social communication of which she had limited knowledge and to which she had no access.
The desire for Rachel to make the most of her limited time for socialization at school required the Beckers to make a difficult choice: Rachel could take a sack lunch and be free to immediately sit down and chat with friends; she could buy a lunch and take time to learn to do it independently (which, since she is a slow eater, would eliminate any time for socializing); or she could buy a lunch, but have her instructional assistant pick up her food, carry the tray, and do everything for her.
Considering the Beckers expectations for Rachel, the last was not an option except for rare occasions. So, mostly Rachel took sack lunches.
Fortunately, through programs sponsored by the National Federation of the Blind, such as KIDS Camp and youth retreats, Rachel has opportunities to develop and practice cafeteria and other daily living skills. Nevertheless, it was sobering for me to contemplate the obstacles the structure and pace of the modern school places in the way of social opportunities for blind kids.
After lunch, it was recess time. No special consideration was given to Rachel at recess. Using her cane, she left in a group with the other kids. She would occasionally call out to be sure she knew where the line was, and so stayed with the group. Once on the playground, one of her friends from another fourth grade class spotted her and came over to play. They quickly hooked up with two other girls and began a pretend game. One was the father, one the mother, one the little kid, and Rachel was the family “kitty.” Rachel squatted down on the ground, meowed for attention, and purred when petted by her family. Rachel and the girls found a place to stash her cane while they played the pretend game, then one of the girls walked with her to retrieve it when the bell rang and it was time to go back to class. Mr. Bill, Rachel’s TVI/O&M instructor, was one of the adult playground monitors, but he did not single Rachel out for any special attention or supervision.
Math was Rachel’s most difficult subject. Again, however, the regular classroom teacher took responsibility for Rachel’s instruction. When Rachel asked the teacher a question about what to fill in, the teacher asked her a series of questions to be sure she was on the right problem and that her Braille copy was complete. Through this interaction they discovered that Rachel did not have the correct paper. Only at this point did the classroom teacher involve Mrs. Banks in the discussion. With Mrs. Banks’ assistance, the proper paper was located and Rachel continued with the lesson along with her classmates. Because Rachel was struggling with a particular word problem, the teacher worked with her one-on-one while the other children went ahead and worked on their problems. Rachel used a Braillewriter and an abacus in her math class.
In all classes, the classroom teacher directly addressed Rachel, called on her for class discussion, and/or provided her with personalized instruction as was appropriate. They only addressed Mrs. Banks when they needed to discuss the transcribing of materials or scheduling issues. Rachel always used her cane. I do not recall a single time the aide, a teacher, or a classmate inappropriately grabbed her or that Rachel tried to take an arm and go sighted guide. Clearly, everyone assumed she could walk the halls, open and go through doors, find her seat in the class, hang-up her coat, find the trash can in the cafeteria, go to the bathroom, and so forth—all on her own. Any assistance was always appropriate, polite, and minimal—occasional verbal directions, taps on a chair or table to provide a sound cue, or a light touch on the arm or shoulder.
Technology had already begun to play an important role in Rachel’s education. She had a Braillewriter in her homeroom on her desk and a computer printer was available at the back of the room for her use, too. When she arrived for the school day, she went to the printer, connected her electronic notetaker to it, and printed out an English assignment to turn in to the teacher. Later in the day, the language arts class sat on the floor around the teacher to read and analyze a piece of literature. Then, the class was given a short writing assignment to complete in class. Rachel chose to use her Braille Lite to compose her essay, and then independently went back to the printer and printed out a print copy to turn in to the teacher before the class ended. (There was one gap in the assistive technology available to Rachel. There had been delays in getting the appropriate talking software installed so Rachel could have independent access to a computer in school. Therefore, she was behind in getting the instruction she needed so she could independently use word processing to do assignments or learn how to access the Internet to do research and use email. I understand these needs were addressed in extended school year summer programming between her fourth and fifth grade years.)
Rachel was pulled out of part of the school day for an orientation and mobility lesson. We—Mr. Bill, Mrs. Banks, Rachel, and I —hopped in a car and drove to a residential area for the lesson. (Mrs. Banks typically observes her mobility lessons and then reinforces certain skills and concepts throughout the week.) Rachel practiced locating and identifying landmarks such as post office boxes and crossing streets at intersections with and without stop signs. Mr. Bill gave Rachel time to explore, problem-solve, and correct her own mistakes.
At the end of the day, Rachel reviewed her homework assignments with Mrs. Banks to be sure she had them all, and picked up any Braille materials (worksheets, etc.) that Mrs. Banks had transcribed for her. She cleared off her desk and picked up her chair and rested it upside-down on her desk just like the other kids. She packed up her backpack, got her jacket out of her cubby, picked up her cane, and headed out for the bus when her group was released. Mrs. Banks and I followed her from a distance as she went down the hall, down some steps, down another hall, and finally out the side exit door. She headed for the area where her bus usually loaded, and listened for her bus driver to call out her name. A couple of classmates gave her a verbal prompt when she angled slightly off course, then she climbed on the bus, found her seat, and off they went!
After Rachel left, I sat down with Mrs. Banks and compared my observations with the ones she had made two months earlier. I liked the way she had included a time schedule for the day and brief descriptions of some of the class content and curriculum. Her account provides tangible evidence of the pace and level of expectations of a typical school day. It also gives us a glimpse into the effective management of a critical transition year for a blind student. (In this context, transition year refers to a year in which a student is required, by the nature of the schoolwork and the structure and complexity of the school day, to make a quantum leap in independent functioning. As a general rule, key transition points are from kindergarten to first grade, from fifth grade to middle school or from sixth grade to Junior High, and from middle school/junior high to high school.)
It was rewarding to see how much more independent and confident Rachel appeared to have become in the short time between our two observations. With Mrs. Bank’s permission, I have revised and edited her report for this article. Here it is:
Rachel’s Day
Observations from Lee
Banks, Special Education Instructor Assistant
February 2000
At 8:40 a.m. Rachel gets off bus 290 and walks into the school independently with her peers. The bus may stop in different places along the bus loop. If Rachel veers off, a student moves right in to guide her. If there is inclement weather, I meet her at the bus in case she needs help. Mostly, I stay back and observe. Even with ice and snow, Rachel comes down the steps and negotiates curbs cautiously but independently. I am right there, but do not let her know unless she needs help.
8:45 a.m.—Rachel arrives in the classroom. She takes off her coat, hangs it up, puts her lunchbox away, brings her backpack to me and unloads it, takes down her chair, prints out her schoolwork on the printer in the room, and sits down to do the journal question for that day. (Journaling is the current morning work.)
9:00 a.m.—We have morning pledge to the flag, morning announcements, then back to work or silent reading. At 9:10 a.m., the children line up to go to “specials.” Monday is our double specials day. Currently, music special consists of beginning note-reading and playing simple songs on the recorder.
Art class is going fine. Rachel was recently selected Artist of the Month. One of her pieces is on display in the mail-hallway, near the office. There are adequate adaptive materials in art—clay, fabric, tissue paper, shapes, etc. Rachel does her artwork in a timely manner.
In gym class on Mondays and Fridays the kids are doing Magic Club—a variety of ball-bouncing and catching activities. We have adapted ways for Rachel to do the activities, but I am still there to aid her as needed. Rachel has the class only once a week, on Fridays, because she has a mobility lesson on Mondays. However, she still gets to participate in the gym class curriculum of volleyball, archery, floor hockey, football, doing laps (she does three to the class’s five), and so forth. Rachel also does fine with exercises like push-ups, sit-ups, etc. Overall, she is average in keeping up with the other kids.
9:55 a.m.—Rachel is in social studies with Mrs. Birkholz until 11:10 a.m. The class changes teachers every six weeks. Rachel has had Mrs. Stambaugh and Mrs. Kueberth previously for this class. She will go to Mrs. Wing next for relative motion. The class is presently studying the French and Indian War and the American Revolution. They review many details and do lots of formulating and writing. Rachel seems to be very interested in history.
Math class is from 11:15 a.m. to 12:25 p.m. This is an up and down subject for Rachel. She has had difficulties with lines and graphing, although she has ample adaptive materials (Brailled sheets, manipulatives, stickers, etc). The class is now working on multiplication, and Rachel is more comfortable with this. She knows her times tables up to twelve. Although she understands the multiplication process, her biggest need is to stay focused so she can accurately transfer from reading the Braille problem, to calculating the problem on the abacus, to correctly putting the answer down on paper.
12:25 p.m.—The class lines up to go to lunch. Rachel knows her way around the hallways and the cafeteria just fine. However, Rachel does travel more slowly and that impacts other kids in the line behind her. She often needs someone to prompt her to move more quickly and catch up. Rachel brings her lunch from home most days so it is easier for her to get to a table, eat, and get around in the allotted time. The class lines up in the cafeteria to go to recess at 12:50 p.m.
1:15 p.m.—Recess is over and we’re back in the building. Except for Thursdays, this is language arts time from 1:15 until 2:30 p.m. (On Thursday the class has computer lab from 1:15 until 1:55 p.m. Rachel will attend computer lab more frequently once the technology specialist loads the JAWS speech program so she can use the computer independently.)
Language arts is a very busy, heavily concentrated time of the day. It focuses extensively on writing skills. Rachel is learning about: person position defended, construct meaning, critical responses, friendly letter, factual reports, etc. Rachel is learning to follow specific instructions “specifically.” She needs to improve her capacity to focus, and to make better use of time (not argue or make excuses, combine trips within the room, etc.)
Rachel is treated fairly and the same as the rest of the students. Mrs. Birkholz does an excellent job of integrating Rachel into the class. She has the same expectations of her that she has for all the students. If Rachel legitimately needs more time, she gets it. (Plus, she can use study hall, extra recess, or work with Mr. Bill and myself.)
2:30 to 2:40 p.m.—The class packs up to be ready for the 3:00 p.m. afternoon recess, or for Reading Buddies on Fridays. (Packing up at 2:30-2:40 p.m. requires more prompts than usual. Rachel knows the day is ending.) In the spring and autumn, Rachel wants to get out, but in cold weather she likes to stay in and read. She also frequently stays in to do catch-up work.
3:25 p.m.—I review homework assignments one-on-one with Rachel. She still forgets one or two things daily. She is supposed to use her electronic notetaker (the Braille Lite) to write down her assignments, but she is resisting using it. She thinks she will remember. What she doesn’t realize is that other kids have to write down the assignments, too. Besides, her memory, as good as it is, can be inhibited by exceptionally busy days. We will just keep working on it. In between classes (recess, etc), she gets her pep talks from me. The Braille Lite with the refreshable Braille display has been a terrific boost to her independence in the classroom. She types on it throughout the day.
3:40 p.m.—I walk her to the bus for a final chat about the busy day. (Some days her backpack is too heavy for her to lift, and I help with that.) Occasionally, one of her classmates will walk with her. She lines up with the other bus 290 riders and gets on the bus with a final farewell.
Observations:
The biggest challenge Rachel has faced in fourth grade has been adjusting to a faster pace—getting her work done and moving on to the next item on the teacher’s agenda along with the rest of the students. In the first couple of months of school this year, Rachel struggled. She needed many prompts and a good bit of help to get through the day. But we are making progress. I have been able to dramatically reduce the number of prompts (by one-third) that I give to Rachel. She is still adjusting to my backing away, and she takes advantage of it sometimes, but I feel she is just testing me. It’s hard when she knows that I am in the room just five feet away from her. She has had a lot of help over the years and it is naturally difficult for a child to want to end that.
Rachel has much less one-on-one time with Mr. Bill [her TVI/O&M instructor] this year. Rachel was used to going off to the planning room for individual sessions with him. However, in fourth grade, all of the work (except for mobility training) is done right in the classroom. Mr. Bill comes in the morning on Mondays and Thursdays for mobility lessons, and in the afternoon on Tuesdays and Fridays for direct service instruction and teacher consultations. My role has also shifted. Although I am always nearby, I am extremely busy Brailling and preparing materials for Rachel’s classes so she will have everything she needs along with the other kids. I have less time to give her prompts and help her with work. This is good, because she is ready for it. She only needs to accept independence in doing her classwork as a positive thing in her day and not fear it. Of course, assistance is always available to Rachel if she is making a true effort and needs help.
From my point of view, I would like to see Rachel develop a sense of community in school. I would like for her to reach out more, and to understand that the other students have the same teachers, the same work, and the same problems she has. She isn’t the only one struggling to become more independent.
Traveling throughout the school has gone well with Rachel this year. She is adamant about being treated the same as the other students. She gets to class, lunch, and back to her classroom or out to recess very well on her own. I have lunch and recess monitoring duty and often help take classes out to the playground. Sometimes I leave with a group while Rachel and her class are still eating. She doesn’t need me around and finds her way out when she is finished just fine.
Rachel is an intelligent child and her grades are very good. As always, it is a pleasure (and a challenge) working with Rachel.
By the time this issue is published and you read this article, Rachel will be several weeks into eighth grade—her last year in middle school. As she matures, she continues to grow in independence. Providing the supports she needs and withdrawing the supports she no longer needs continues to be a challenge that the school district and the Beckers face, but they tackle it gladly and with commitment knowing it is the only way for Rachel to achieve age-appropriate independence. There have been setbacks. Last year, the school district lost their Braille transcriber and could not fill the position for months. But the school and the Beckers worked cooperatively to minimize the impact on Rachel’s education.
And that’s the key word—cooperation. It is no accident that there is no mention of the IEP or the IEP process in this article. Rachel certainly has an IEP; and a well-written IEP is an extremely valuable educational tool. However, no matter how good the IEP is, it is no substitute for skilled teachers of the blind, appropriately trained support staff, or for good faith, high expectations, and mutual respect among those responsible for the education of blind and visually impaired students.
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SLATE PALS
A pen pal program for blind, Braille reading students who want to write and receive Braille letters from other students.
Mail to: SLATE PALS, 5817 North Nina, Chicago, Illinois 60631 or <dkent5817@worldnet.att.net>.
SLATE PAL PROFILE
Name__________________________ Age_____ Birth Date______ Grade______
(circle one) *male *female
Address________________________ City____________ State____ Zip________
email:____________________________ Phone __________________________
Interest/Hobbies____________________________________________________
__________________________________________________________________
I would like (fill in the number) _______slate pal(s)
I would like my slate pal(s) to be ___________age (please specify a range)
I would like my slate pal(s) to be (circle one) *male *female *no preference
********************************
[PHOTO: Crystal and Macy McClain]
Making the Tough Choice: The School for the Blind or Not?
by Crystal McClain
Reprinted from the Fall, 2002, issue of the Buckeye Bulletin, a publication of the National Federation of the Blind of Ohio.
Editor’s Note: The right supports are essential if blind students are to succeed in the regular public school setting. This is especially true in what we often call the “transition years.” It is generally conceded, for example, that the move from elementary school to middle school or junior high is a daunting transition for all students. It never occurred to me, however, that fourth grade might be troublesome. Yet, in this issue we have two articles about two blind girls, in two different states, who experienced the fourth grade as a challenging transition year. However, in Rachel’s school, as described in the article “A Typical School Day in the Life of a Blind Fourth Grader,” enough supports were in place so that Rachel could keep pace with her peers in academics and in personal independence. However, it was a different story for Macy. Here is how her mother tells the story, and describes the difficult decision their family had to make:
Macy started kindergarten in our neighborhood public school. We live in a small town, and Macy was the only blind student the school had ever had. Before she started school, I did everything possible to ensure her success in the public school system. The one statement that I am thankful that I didn’t make was “My child will never go to the Ohio State School for the Blind” (OSSB). I have heard parents make that statement, and I have heard horror stories about public school placements. I am very glad that I learned the lesson about never saying “never”!
As president of the Parents of Blind Children Division of the National Federation of the Blind of Ohio, I saw and heard many stories, some good and some bad. A common story goes something like this. A child starts school in his or her local district, and by the time he or she gets to junior high the student is so far behind that the parents have no choice but send their child to the school for the blind. This is not the case with all parents I talk to, but I have found it true in many cases. I decided that was not what I wanted for Macy. I remember saying that, if and when Macy began to fall behind significantly in a school year, I would consider sending her to OSSB. I did not want her to fall into an academic pit.
The time came for Macy and our family when she was in the fourth grade. Those of you who have lived through the fourth grade with your child will testify that it is a significant academic year due to the pressures of the dreaded Fourth-Grade Proficiency Test.
Many factors contributed to the problems that we had in fourth grade. Here are a few I recognized. Macy is not the most intelligent kid in Ohio. That is hard to admit publicly. She struggles academically, and the fast-paced world of the fourth grade and the whole proficiency preparation turned into a nightmare. Macy’s Braille teacher did not have adequate time to spend with her in order for her to succeed in the fourth grade. This next item was a big one for me; Macy did not have all of her materials in correctly-written and formatted Braille in a timely manner. This was especially true in math. Another issue was technology; no one knew enough about the Braille Lite to teach her how to use it. These are the major problems I can identify; I am sure both the school and Macy could point to other things as well.
I want to stress that the problems were not one-sided. There were things that the school could have done better, but I felt that I couldn’t devote my time to attacking the school when Macy was part of the problem. I knew that the most important thing was to get her a quality education. I believe that, for the blind student, going to college is even more important than for a sighted child. A sighted child who doesn’t go to college is much more likely to get a decent job in a factory or business than is a blind child. This is why education is so important to me.
In the early part of the fourth-grade school year, I recognized we had problems. The first thing we did was to have a multi-factored evaluation done at OSSB. Our next step was to take an entire school day and sit in on the third/fourth-grade class at OSSB. We visited in October. We went to music, gym, and technology with the class. We sat through spelling, reading, and math. Macy seemed to be ahead of most of that class academically, and that scared me a little. She was a much more fluent reader than the other kids in the room. Here are some things that I liked:
* Small class sizes (approximately eight kids per class)
* A technology class each day with a knowledgeable blind teacher
* Good Braille everywhere
My concerns were these:
* The music program was not what I hoped it would be.
* Lots of students didn’t use canes regularly.
* I didn’t think the curriculum was at a level comparable with that of public schools.
* Macy would be a residential student.
Our next move was to visit the cottages. If Macy were going to go to school at OSSB, she would be staying in the cottages. Macy and I drove over after school one day and spent the entire evening. We saw how the house parents dealt with homework, bath time, and other daily routines. We really liked the two women who were in charge of D-1, where Macy would stay.
Since Macy would be going into fifth grade, we visited that class as well. The academic work was at a much higher level in this class. I really liked the teacher and discussed with her my concerns and hopes for Macy. After all of this we made the decision to send Macy to OSSB. We didn’t make a long-term commitment. Basically we said that Macy would go to school at OSSB in the fifth grade but that we would decide later about sixth grade. I can honestly say that I believe we made the right choice.
Fifth grade has gone all right for Macy. She had to adjust to her new school and to the fact that all of the kids there are blind. She loved living in the cottages. We worked out a different arrangement from that used by most families. Most kids went to the school on Sunday afternoon and stayed until Friday afternoon. My best friend lives in Bellefontaine, where we live, and works in Columbus. She took Macy to school on Monday morning in time for breakfast. Then on Wednesday I finished work at 2:00 p.m. and went straight to Columbus. I got there just as school ended. Her dad took her back on Thursday morning, and she then stayed and rode the bus home on Friday afternoon. This arrangement meant that she spent three nights in the cottage instead of the typical five. We liked getting to see her during the week. I have to admit that sometimes she didn’t want to come home. She was too busy having fun with all the evening activities.
I still have concerns for Macy; including the fact that I don’t think she has enough homework. I also noticed that she was really upset that she was totally blind while lots of kids at the school had varying amounts of vision. This was really troublesome for her. However, Macy has made improvements while at the school for the blind. We are all looking forward to a good sixth-grade year.
I hope that other parents of blind kids will be open-minded when they make placement choices. You have many options; choose what works best for your child in your situation right now. Recognize that you are not stuck permanently with one placement choice. You can change settings when you think your child’s needs require a different solution. Good luck, and have a great school year.
[PHOTO: James McCarthy]
Textbooks on Time: A Progress Report on the IMAA and the
Reauthorization of IDEA
by James McCarthy
Parents of blind children, educators of blind children, and the blind have advocated over the last several years for passage of the Instructional Materials Accessibility Act (IMAA). This legislation would vastly improve the process by which books are provided to blind children in the formats they need. Under the existing system, most blind children receive their books late in the school year, receive relevant textbook sections after they are no longer needed, and sometimes do not receive them at all. In the present session of Congress, the IMAA was introduced in the House of Representatives by Congressman Petri of Wisconsin and cosponsored by 107 others. The IMAA was not introduced in the Senate, but both the House and Senate incorporated provisions of the IMAA in their versions of legislation to reauthorize the Individuals with Disabilities Education Act (IDEA).
The prospects for passage of the IMAA are the best ever, but they are contingent on passage of legislation to reauthorize the IDEA. Due to this fact, an analysis of the IMAA, the IDEA, and the possibilities surrounding both is in order. The House and the Senate take vastly different approaches to both the IMAA and the IDEA, with the approach of the Senate preferable in both cases.
The bill passed by the House, H.R. 1350: “Improving Educational Results for Children with Disabilities Act of 2003,” incorporates the Instructional Materials Accessibility Standard found in the IMAA. Within two years of a file standard being published, states will need to adopt it. State and local education agencies must also include a requirement that publishers must provide electronic files consistent with the official standard. While the House bill could go much further toward recognizing the goals of the IMAA, the inclusion of this language in the IDEA is a significant step forward to improve the infrastructure necessary to ensure that blind children receive their books in a timely manner.
The Senate bill to reauthorize the IDEA, S. 1248: “Individuals with Disabilities Education Improvement Act of 2003,” takes the House bill one step further with respect to the IMAA. In contrast to the House bill, the Senate bill contains all of the critical provisions necessary to develop the infrastructure to provide books to blind children in a timely manner. The most significant provision in the Senate bill not included in the House bill would establish a national center within two years of enactment. The Center “shall coordinate the acquisition and distribution of print instructional materials prepared in the Instructional Materials Accessibility Standard.” Responsibilities of the center include:
* To receive and catalog print instructional materials available to state and local educational agencies;
* To provide access to these materials to authorized entities free of charge; and
* To establish procedures to protect against copyright infringement with respect to the instructional materials it receives and makes available.
The Senate bill furthers the goals in the IMAA in other key respects. It clearly permits authorized entities to provide instructional materials in large print, which is officially not permitted by law. It enumerates the alternate formats permitted for conversion of files using the Instructional Materials Accessibility Standard. It also more clearly defines the Instructional Materials Accessibility Standard.
S. 1248 has passed out of committee and awaits a vote of the full Senate, where it is expected to pass. Both Senate Republicans and Democrats have sought to work in a bipartisan manner to develop this legislation. This is a sharp contrast to the partisan process engaged in by House Republicans when crafting H.R. 1350. If the Senate provisions in support of the IMAA, found in Sections 612(a)(22), 613(a)(6) and 675, are adopted in their entirety, the infrastructure to facilitate blind children receiving books on time will vastly improve.
While neither approach to reauthorize the IDEA is entirely adequate, the Senate version is preferable. The House would make dispute resolution an extremely unattractive option for parents while permitting schools to reduce their contact with parents regarding student progress. The Senate’s approach would more closely maintain existing law with adjustments. It strives to parallel the No Child Left Behind Act, to address paper work reduction, and to establish some model forms for Individual Education Programs (IEPs) and procedural notices. Finally, when developing an IEP for a blind child, it also requires consideration of orientation and mobility and skills in the use of assistive technology devices, including low vision devices.
At this time it is difficult to know whether agreement of the IDEA reauthorization will occur this year, but there is a second year remaining in the 108th Congress. The Senate still must pass its legislation before the end of legislative business, probably in November, and the Senate agenda is quite full. Once it does so, there are substantial differences between the two bills to be reconciled by a conference committee of the two chambers. At the time of the conference, as supporters of the IMAA we must do all we can to ensure that all the provisions of the IMAA are included in the final legislation.
[PHOTO: Michele Gittens]
My Long Journey from Partially Sighted to Really Blind
by Michele Gittens
Reprinted from the Braille Monitor, June 2003 issue.
Editor’s Note: Michele Gittens is currently a student at BLIND, Incorporated. (Blindness: Learning in New Dimensions). She is also a member of the Metro Chapter of the NFB of Minnesota. She tells a painful personal story with a happy ending. That’s right, a happy ending, and yes, we got the title right. This is a good article to read in tandem with “Why Megan is Learning Braille,” printed elsewhere in this issue. Here is what Michele has to say:
I am grateful to be able to share with you my journey from the NFB national convention to Blindness: Learning in New Dimensions (BLIND)—which is essentially my version of “partially sighted, really blind.”
Let me first give you a brief overview of my relationship to blindness in the past few years. The cause of my blindness is unknown. I just remember that one morning, when I was in the third grade, I could see the board clearly, but when I came back from recess later that day, I couldn’t see it anymore. My parents took me from our home in New York to many doctors in various countries; we traveled all over the place.
Finally somebody referred us to the local chapter of the National Federation of the Blind. I remember my parents putting me on a train and schlepping me all the way down to Manhattan. We went into a room and sat around a rectangular table, and I was very upset because I was with all these old people (I was about twelve, and they must have been in their twenties, but to me that was very old). I didn’t say a word; I just sat there very still.
Afterward I made it clear to my parents that I didn’t want to have anything to do with these people. My father, being the wise man he is (I didn’t think so at the time), said, “How do you expect to live as a blind person if you don’t know any other blind people?”
I said, “Dad, these people are blind. I am legally blind. We are in two different worlds; they do not understand where I come from.” From then on the only relationship I had with the NFB was that every year I would get two flyers—one about the New York state convention and the other about the national. The little NFB logo was in dark print, so I could always see it, and as soon as I saw it, I would just tear it up and throw it in the trash before my parents saw it. I didn’t want to hear anything about the NFB.
I went through school, and as a teenager I no longer saw myself as legally blind; I became visually limited. I loved being visually limited because I never did understand the legal thing. High school was great; it was like going to school with your mom: I had readers, notetakers, and advocates. I didn’t have to deal with any of the blindness issues that came up; they just magically disappeared.
Then I went to college, where I got a dose of reality. Suddenly on the first day I was expected to manage my own readers, schedule my exams, and talk to my professors. Sometimes I went to professors who said, “Michele, how can we help you?”
I would get frustrated and angry, thinking, “Shouldn’t you be telling me what to do? Haven’t you had visually impaired students before?” (In college I was visually impaired.) I was so frustrated and stressed out that in my junior year, I left college and never returned. It really disappointed my parents, but nobody could tell me anything; I wasn’t going back.
I did have the sense to know I needed some training, so I enrolled at a service-delivery agency in New York. I was there for about four years, and I went through all the programs they offered (I’m a very thorough person). There I learned that I am now visually disabled. In one program in which I took part twenty people were enrolled, and only one used a white cane. We were taught to “maximize our residual vision.” We had computer class, and we used ZoomText, the screen-enlargement program—never JAWS or any other speech-access program. I also had travel class and was given a white cane, but I wasn’t encouraged to use it outside of class, and the class was certainly not a requirement. I remember being on the corner of Broadway and 42nd Street and saying to my instructor, “How do I know if this is the right corner?”
He said, “Use your common sense!” (That’s how people in New York talk). “Look up at the pole, and you see there’s a street sign. Broadway is a longer word, so it is a long white strip, whereas 42nd is two numbers, so it’s a short strip. So that’s how you know.”
I thought to myself, “But where’s the sign?” I graduated from that program with honors and decided to move on. It was time to work, so I auditioned and got a job in London as a background singer. When I moved there, my mother made me take my white cane (that was my parents being wise again).
As soon as I arrived in London, I made a discovery: I might really be blind. I had grown up in New York, so I didn’t realize how little I was actually seeing and how much I was relying on my mental picture of everything to get around. When I got to England, everything was totally different. For the first month I would not leave my apartment unless somebody came to get me, and, without exaggeration, I cried every single day.
My parents and family and friends called and pleaded with me to use my cane, but I refused. Somebody from the agency whose program I had attended called and said, “Michele, somebody from New York died because she crossed a street without using a white cane and got hit by a car.” Even that wasn’t enough for me.
I said, “Well, that’s nice; I’ll take my chances.” In England traffic moves on the left side of the street instead of the right. One of my cousins called me and said, “A lot of people from America go to England and get killed. If you don’t use your cane, you might get hit by a car, and we’re not kidding.”
I’m embarrassed to repeat this, but I said to him, “I’d rather die than use that stick.” As soon as those words came out of my mouth, I realized I had hit rock bottom.
I decided I had to do something, so I called the Royal National Institute for the Blind and made an appointment to meet with a counselor. I wanted to hire a travel instructor, but she said that would not be possible because I was a partial. I said, “Partially what?”
She said, “You’re partially sighted, like me.”
I asked, “What do you do about it?”
She said, “You just get used to it.”
Every day I had to go someplace different to work, and I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to die, but I still wasn’t going to use that stick. I started coming up with my own alternative techniques—my blind-person-pretending-to-be-sighted tricks. It worked somewhat, but I decided to interview other blind people to find out what they did. That led to reading books and doing a lot of research; suddenly I had to go to every seminar on blindness I heard about.
One day my mom called and said that there was a letter for me from the NFB (of course I hadn’t had a chance to tear it up). She said that they were having a convention in Philadelphia, and I decided to go because I hadn’t yet figured out a good way to walk down a flight of steps. I was once doing a show in which, to get off the stage, I had to come downstairs from the stage into the audience. I fell down the stairs, got up, and fell down the stairs again. I was mortified, and I had a thing about stairs from then on. I used to tell people that I would have no problem if there were no stairs in the world—the problem was not my eyes; it was the stairs. So I flew to this convention to learn about going downstairs.
I got to the hotel with a friend, and we noticed all these people with white poles. I thought to myself, is this a try out for the summer Olympics? Then we went to registration, and I saw that everybody had them. I realized that of course they were canes, but I had never seen them used like this before. I got excited because I saw people walking by themselves without guides. I was beside myself. I talked to everybody (well, almost everybody, since there were three thousand people). I called my mom and said, “Mom, do you know blind people have jobs?” Almost every blind person I had met until then was on SSI (Supplemental Security Income). I said, “Mom, do you know they have houses and families?” I had assumed that I would never have a family.
My father got on the phone and said, “I told you: how do you expect to live as a blind person if you don’t know any?” At the convention there was a presentation about cane travel, and I talked to Joe Cutter from New Jersey and told him my sob story about stairs. I didn’t have a cane with me, so when I finished my tale, he said, “I have a present for you.” He offered me a cane; it was beautiful. I was now happy because I had a pole like everyone else.
Joe Cutter introduced me to Ron Burzese. Ron listened to my story, and he was both gracious and patient. We went to a staircase, and he told me to close my eyes; I’m from New York, so I was suspicious and made sure my friend was watching, but I did it. He showed me how to use the cane going down the stairs, and it was the safest feeling. When I got to the bottom of the stairs, Ron said in his deep, Barry White voice, “You have a decision to make. You can either live the rest of your life as a clumsy sighted person, or you can become a respectable blind person.” Those words hit me. Many people had pleaded with me, but when he said that, it was as if he knew me. Now I thank him every day, about twice a day.
After the convention I went back to London to finish up my jobs. Then I came back home. Three days later was 9-11 (September 11, 2001), and I thought to myself, I am never getting on a plane again! So much for my dreams of going anywhere. A few weeks later there was a big deal in the news about how Mike Hingson got out of the World Trade Center, and I said to my parents, “How much you wanna bet he’s from the NFB? Anyone who went to the training center I did would never have gotten out!” A while later I received the Braille Monitor with the article about him, and I went crazy. I thought, “This is another sign.”
I know many people in those towers did not have the opportunity to get out, but even if I had been there and had had the chance, I probably wouldn’t have taken it, because my fear of coming down a flight of stairs was so deep I would have sat there and perished. I realized then that getting good training wasn’t just about becoming respectable; it could be a life and death matter.
All my life I have said that there were two places I wanted to live: London and Minneapolis. I grew up watching Mary Tyler Moore, and I wanted an M like the one she had in her apartment. I did check out the other NFB training centers, but I already knew I was coming to Minneapolis. It was very challenging to get New York to pay for me to come to BLIND, Incorporated, but that story is for another time. I kept knocking on the agency’s door because I knew that eventually they would give me what I wanted just to shut me up, and they did. My thanks go to Shawn Mayo and a lot of other people.
I have been at BLIND, Incorporated, only since September 16, 2002, and I have already seen a huge change within myself. I knew I needed confidence but could never figure out why I couldn’t get it. I realize now that the key is the training. I’m walking around and not banging into things. As a singer I travel a lot, and I used to get someplace, cry for a week, and then get going. I have not cried yet in Minneapolis, and I am thrilled.
In closing, I’d like to thank the Federation on behalf of myself and my fellow BLIND, Incorporated, students. Thank you not only for challenging us to embrace our blindness (or aspects of our blindness) but for providing us the opportunity, the wisdom, the mentoring, and the tools that enable people like me to stand now as a respectable, independent, sky’s the limit blind person.
PHOTO: Marla and Mike Palmer and children: Adam, baby Lauren, and Megan.
Why Megan is Learning Braille
by Marla Palmer
The IEP Team shall—in the case of a child who is blind or visually impaired, provide for instruction in Braille and the use of Braille unless the IEP Team determines, after an evaluation of the child’s reading and writing skills, needs, and appropriate reading and writing media (including an evaluation of the child’s future needs for instruction in Braille or the use of Braille), that instruction in Braille or the use of Braille is not appropriate for the child.
Individuals with Disabilities Education Act (IDEA)
Public Law 105-17
Section 614(d)(3)(B)(iii)
Editor’s Note: It’s been six years since the Braille provision (above) was added to the IDEA—the federal law which mandates that public schools that accept federal funds must provide a “free and appropriate education” to children with disabilities. Nevertheless, many parents and teachers still contact the NFB office to ask why and/or how partially sighted children can be effectively taught Braille. The following article provides some insight into this process from the prospective of a mom. Marla Palmer, a resident of Utah, is a member of the board of the National Organization of Parents of Blind Children. She and her husband, Mike, have three children: Lauren, nine-months-old; Adam, age four; and six-year-old Megan. Here’s what Marla has to say about why and how her daughter is learning Braille:
A few days ago I peeked in on a Braille party that my daughter was attending. The students were putting on a puppet show that was entitled, “Why I am learning Braille.” I heard the innocent but profound answers, “I am learning Braille because I am blind.” Another response was, “…so I can read.” When the spotlight hit my daughter she said,
“I am learning Braille so I don’t have to learn it when I am big.” I couldn’t help but chuckle. I am sure there have been numerous times when Megan has overheard her blind adult mentors, including her mom’s cousin, exclaim how they wished they had learned Braille when they were younger!
When Megan was born and we received the news that she was “visually impaired,” “legally blind,” partially sighted”—we weren’t sure what to expect for her future. Doctors and educators were positive that she would have a “normal” life with fewadaptations. I vividly remember when Megan’s eye doctor exclaimed, “Megan will be just fine, and she won’t need many services like Braille.”
With that in mind I couldn’t understand why my cousin, Kris Cox repeatedly called me to share her personal experiences with the National Federation of the Blind (NFB). She kept asking that annoying question, “So Marla, are you going to have Megan learn Braille?” I thought I was doing a good job at explaining why I didn’t feel it was necessary, but for some reason (which I now understand) Kris would politely disagree. Kris grew up as a child with low-vision and was not given the opportunity to learn Braille. She expressed how much easier it would have been to learn Braille then (instead of now, as an adult) and gave examples of how Braille can be an effective literacy tool.
Kris invited us to our first National Convention of the NFB held in Dallas, Texas. Frankly we weren’t sure why we were attending a convention for “the blind” when our child was “visually impaired,” “legally blind,” “partially sighted.” The convention and those we met there created some defining moments for us. My husband and I discovered that Megan has been blind all along (smile) and most importantly that it’s okay to be blind. Our daughter could become a successful, contributing member to society if she could get the proper training and tools. And one of those tools was Braille. At that time, Megan was only eighteen-months-old. It’s hard to believe that five years later she is six-years-old and approaching first grade. Here’s part of our story from that time to now:
Early Intervention
Some parents that have children with partial vision oftentimes don’t take advantage of the early intervention programs that are available to them. Megan has received services since she was an infant. It was a great networking tool with professionals in the field and with other parents. Because it was a zero-to-three program, there were written individual and family goals. From day one, we had pre-Braille goals written into our plans.
This was actually suggested by our Parent Infant Program advisor. She said it serves several purposes:
1. It’s never too early to start pre-Braille skills.
2. When it came time to write your child’s first IEP, there should be no question from the team that you, as parents, want your low-vision child to learn Braille. It had been documented from day one.
Preschool
Upon the transition from Early Intervention to Preschool we were given three educational options for Megan: enroll her in the Utah School for the Blind, choose the Davis County District Preschool, or select a private preschool of our choice. After careful consideration, we opted to mainstream Megan in the district preschool program. I would not consider Megan’s first year of preschool a huge success when it came to Braille services. The preschool teacher had wonderful talents and skills, but was very uncomfortable with having a low-vision child in her class. She would often forget how to make simple adaptations and seemed overwhelmed when given advice. Megan received consultant services from a teacher of the visually impaired two times a month (it would have been once a month if we had chosen a private preschool). However, the consultant had to spend all of her time concentrating on the preschool teacher rather than working on the IEP goals with Megan.
The next year we searched high and low in our district and found a wonderful teacher who truly understood the power of inclusion, was comfortable with working with children that needed adaptations, and was willing to be an integral part of the IEP team. We had overcome a huge hurdle. Now, the consultant for the visually impaired could come in and work one-on-one with Megan to help her achieve her Braille goals.
I had high expectations of the consultant that was visiting my child a whopping two times a month. I quickly learned that in order for Megan to effectively have a head start in Braille, we had to have daily Braille activities at home. I became good friends with Megan’s Braille consultant and we agreed to work together. The two concepts we concentrated on were having a good understanding of the Braille cell, and familiarity with the Braillewriter. After Megan was introduced to these concepts we were able to work on them approximately fifteen minutes per day at home. We concentrated on using the Braillewriter to build finger strength, to type the Braille letters she also knew how to write in print, and to pretend to write stories. (In other words, she “scribbled” pretend stories with the Braillewriter just as sighted children scribble stories with a pencil.) Megan is a visual learner and she liked to see the shape of the Braille letter as well as feel it. She memorized the Braille alphabet by sight and by touch. Megan had no problem wearing her “blinders” as she understood at a young age the importance of learning Braille tactually. I think it helped that everyone—her teacher of the visually impaired, her regular teacher, and her family—had a positive attitude about using the sleep shades (blindfolds).
We were able to find some wooden Braille tiles (about one-and-a-half inches wide, two-and-a-half inches high, and one-half inch thick) that had large Braille knobs on one side and large print on the other (Note: Mr. Arnold Dunn in Florida makes these and donates them to families or institutions). One afternoon we found a small box and Megan decorated it the way she wanted. We cut two holes in the side where her hands could fit in. After practicing learning several letters, we would mix the tiles up and put them in the box. Megan would slide her hands through the holes, feel for the different tiles, and tell me which letters they were. This is still a favorite game.
By the end of her third year in preschool Megan could read and type her name in Braille. She had memorized all the letters in Braille (tactually and visually) and could also tell which dot sequence formed which letter. During the summer before her kindergarten year, her preschool consultant for the visually impaired checked out a copy of The Mangold Developmental Program of Tactile Perception and Braille Letter Recognition (Exceptional Teaching Aids, California) for us to use at home with Megan. I feel Mangold was one of the best teaching tools available to us. The workbook was very easy for a parent with little Braille background to use and to follow.
Kindergarten
When Megan entered kindergarten she was seventy percent finished with the Mangold curriculum. We felt that it was necessary to have Braille instruction every day for forty-five minutes, and the IEP team agreed. We had a great rapport with Megan’s itinerant Braille teacher with whom we communicated on a daily basis. Megan had a Braille homework folder in which the teacher recorded what Megan practiced that day and what she—the teacher—wanted Megan to practice for homework. Megan was responsible for helping me record her homework and report back to the teacher each day. The teacher had a reward system for homework turned in on time, for good work, etc. This was a great motivator for Megan.
Megan finished Mangold during her kindergarten school year and was introduced to the Patterns Braille Reading Series from the American Printing House for the Blind (APH), which we are continuing with this summer. This series has helped her transition from uncontracted to contracted Braille. She is a dual-reader, learning and becoming efficient in both print and Braille literacy skills. Megan’s latest progress report states that she is on the same reading level in Braille as she is in print. I don’t know what her future holds for her visually, but I do know this: she will be prepared for it. She will never have to struggle to learn Braille as an adult like my cousin Kris.
In summary, never settle for less than your child needs. Have the attitude that each transition in a child’s life is important. Early intervention and preschool CAN and SHOULD be used to concentrate on preliteracy skills and Braille. Of course, each child is different. Be flexible and be aware of how they learn and use that to their advantage. Be involved and work with your child at home. Be part of the working team, not just a cheerleader. If you have high expectations for your child’s teacher, have high expectations for yourself, too, and be willing to do the necessary work at home. And, yes, a child with partial vision can be successful at learning both print and Braille.
[PHOTO: NFB President, Marc Maurer, stops by for a chat with busy Braille Readers Are Leaders volunteers. On the left (left to right) are NFB members Bernice Lowder and Mary Kuforiji, and on the right are Rolling Hills Federated Women’s Club members Katherine Carbonneau and (seated) Aline Norris.]
Building Dreams for Blind Children One Page at a Time: A Report on the Braille Readers Are Leaders Program
by Aloma Bouma
Editor’s Note: When the Braille Readers Are Leaders contest begins on November 1 this year, it will be the twentieth conducted jointly by the National Organization of
Parents of Blind Children (NOPBC) and the National Association to Promote the Use of Braille (NAPUB). That seemed like a pretty good reason for a party, and that’s what the two groups threw, with the help and support of the United Parcel Service (UPS) Foundation, on the Monday afternoon of the 2003 convention in Louisville. During that event, division officials announced an expansion of the Braille Readers contest beginning this fall, again with considerable financial support from the UPS Foundation. In this issue you will find a one-page form for the use of those interested in participating in the 2004 contest and literacy program. Even if you are reading this notice or sending the form back after November 1, you still have time to ensure that the blind child in your life takes part in the contest or participates in the program for prereaders. But act today. Consult the tear-out form for exact details and complete and return it immediately.
This moment of looking forward to an expanded program also seemed a good time to look back over what we have accomplished during these last nineteen contests and to pay tribute to some of those who have made our success possible. Aloma Bouma, a former journalist and one-time member of the staff at the National Center for the Blind, did a review of our very successful Braille Readers Are Leaders Program. Here it is:
Nearly twenty years have passed since we first began our Braille reading contest for blind children. The Braille Readers Are Leaders program was born out of a commitment to design a national reading contest for blind children similar to reading programs for sighted kids. Sponsored jointly by the National Organization of Parents of Blind Children (NOPBC) and the National Association to Promote the Use of Braille (NAPUB), this contest has brought blind children the education and adventure they need to shape their dreams, a foundation of skills necessary to build those dreams, and the encouragement and self-confidence to make them come true.
Since 1984 thousands of blind children have participated in our Braille Readers Are Leaders contest. Hundreds have been winners, and hundreds of thousands of pages of Braille have been read. All contestants receive certificates and ribbons for participating, and the contest, which runs from November through January each year, awards cash prizes, certificates, and ribbons to the top five winners in each of five categories. These include the beginning (first year) Braille readers and four grade levels: K-1, 2-4, 5-8, and 9-12. In the Most Improved catagory, special ribbons are awarded to the top-ten most improved readers each year. Applicants can enter every year, and the winners are determined by the number of Braille pages read and verified by a designated parent, teacher, or librarian.
Keeping track of the applicants, winners, and pages read each year is a tremendous project. Accomplishing this job efficiently takes a lot of work—work that would not be done smoothly and consistently without a lot of help. Judges, parents, teachers, contest supervisors, and those who manage the computer files for the contest all play an important part. Since 1997, however, some of the most complex, time-consuming, and intensive parts of the work have been done by a remarkable group of volunteers from the Rolling Hills Women’s Club of Catonsville, Maryland.
In 1997, designated internationally as “The Year of The Child,” the wonderful partnership between the Catonsville Women’s Club and the Braille Readers Are Leaders contest began. “We have been incredibly fortunate to have the help of these women,” said NOPBC President Barbara Cheadle. “There is no way to estimate the tremendous value of their contribution to the Braille Readers contest. Their commitment to blind children and to this project has built friendships and respect among all of us,” she said.
Ruth Burgess, a club leader, now seventy-five, was looking for a project for the club that would benefit the blind—one of the suggested service projects by the National Federation of Women’s Clubs. Burgess thought that perhaps her club could donate toys or determine another project to benefit blind children, so she began to look through her local telephone book. And the rest, as they say, is history. She contacted the National Federation of the Blind and talked to Barbara Cheadle, and together they developed a plan.
“We were invited to tour the Federation office, and our eyes were opened to all that the NFB does,” Burgess explained. “We learned about blindness, and we quickly wanted to work with the Braille reading contest.” And worked they have. For seven years Burgess and other club members have helped to tabulate and record the number of pages read by every Braille Readers Are Leaders contestant—no small accomplishment. Every year, during the last two weeks of February and the first week of March, dedicated club members arrive at the National Center for the Blind to contribute their time and energy to help blind children, and they have come to look forward to it. “Those of us who have done it before are really anxious to come back,” Burgess exclaimed. “We really love to do it. It makes a difference to us. Sometimes, when you are doing something that you believe in, you think you are doing it to help someone else, but you are really doing it because it is something that has become important to you,” she said.
The work the women perform is certainly detailed. They begin by reviewing the application form submitted by each applicant. This form lists the child’s name, age, grade, and school and the author, title, and number of pages read in each book. These numbers, previously tabulated by the supervising parent or teacher, must be reviewed and double-checked for each applicant and every book. Once they verify the number of pages read, one of the women dictates the information from the form to a blind volunteer, who records this information in Braille. Both print and Braille copies are then filed together in the various contest categories.
The Rolling Hills Women’s Club participates in other areas of the contest as well. They help place all of the awards, certificates, and ribbons in the applicants’ award packets, and they share in the joy and excitement of the awards ceremony held for Maryland contest winners, where they provide and serve refreshments. “It is a wonderful experience to see the kids get their awards,” said Burgess. “We are always impressed with the way these young people conduct themselves; it is just a revelation to see how they do. All of us have learned so much about what the blind are doing. We are always impressed when a youngster has read three thousand pages. But someone who has read eight pages has worked just as hard as the one who read three thousand. For the person who read eight pages, it is just as much of an accomplishment,” Burgess said.
Volunteering with the Braille Readers Are Leaders contest is a team effort for the Rolling Hills Women’s Club. About a dozen women have participated over the years, and they are all proud of their work. The club has also been recognized for its efforts, winning a regional award for the project from the National Federation of Women’s Clubs. Mary France, who was club president from 1996 to 1997, tries to come every year. “Even though my husband graduated from the Maryland School for the Blind, I personally knew very little about Braille,” she said.
The club’s current president is Rae Warshaw, seventy-one, a retired schoolteacher. She likes to work with numbers, so she helps to tabulate all of the pages read by each contestant, although she is also eager to pitch in wherever needed. Rae feels very strongly about the importance of getting kids to want to read, and she supports incentive programs and competitions like Braille Readers Are Leaders. “If you can’t read, you are lost,” she said.
The contest has grown substantially over the years, increasing from approximately two hundred applicants each year to over four hundred. This means, in turn, that the number of pages read and tabulated each year has increased. For example, the total number of pages read by all contestants in the 2000-2001 contest year was 476,015. One enthusiastic Braille reader managed to read twenty thousand pages! While this is an outstanding achievement, we are proud to say it is a feat attainable by many blind children who have received instruction in reading and writing Braille.
Of course the growth of the contest means additional work for the Rolling Hills Women’s Club and all of the other volunteers who work on the project. Two volunteers in this second group are Bernice Lowder and Mary Kuforiji, both blind parents from the Baltimore area. It is up to these two women to copy into Braille all of the print contest information read to them by the Rolling Hills volunteers. This is no small task. Each year Kuforiji and Lowder have dedicated long hours to helping with the Braille Readers contest, and we couldn’t manage without them.
In addition to transcribing into Braille the information from each applicant, Kuforiji and Lowder tabulate the annual number of contestants and track each applicant’s contest category. Lowder emphasizes the value of a contest like this, saying, “These kids are given a chance to learn to love reading, and the challenge of the competition really helps them improve their Braille skills.” The importance of building better Braille literacy for blind children is an important component of the contest, agrees Kuforiji. “It is the only way to become a fast Braille reader, especially when you are young,” she said.
The contest judges also play a vital role in the Braille Readers Are Leaders contest. For many years the two judges were blind Braille instructors, Ellen Ringlein and Ruth Sager. Their job was to make sure the applicants met all of the contest requirements and to verify what type of Braille materials each read. Textbooks and homework, for example, cannot be counted as a part of the contest. Some schools and children have a difficult time acquiring enough Braille books and materials, so the contest allows students to read a book more than once. The judges, however, have to make sure that students did not read a book more than three times.
Ringlein said that another important job of the judges has been to select the ten most improved readers each year. This isn’t easy, because the winners are chosen based on the number of pages increased, not simply the number of pages read. Winners of the Most Improved category must not have won in any contest category in previous years. This special award, she said, motivates readers. “It is designed as an incentive to those who are not likely to be competitive in other categories, and it encourages them to keep working on their skills,” she said.
Sager has seen great improvement in the number of pages contestants have read over the years. You might expect that, as children grow older and have more ability and experience, they would increase their reading amounts. However, Sager is particularly impressed by the increases she has seen among young children. “The number of pages read by the kindergarten through fourth grade categories has increased substantially. At one time the top young winners would have read approximately one thousand pages, but today a young child has to read about three thousand pages to compete in the top three placements,” she noted.
In recent years the judges have also awarded special Honor Roll ribbons for readers who have not yet achieved top honors but who show remarkable ability. These color-coded ribbons are awarded in classifications based on the number of pages read by non-award-winners. “Many students read from five hundred to over eight thousand pages. We want to show them that they are making great progress, and we need to encourage them to keep improving,” she said.
Nadine Jacobsen, president of NAPUB, cannot say enough about the volunteer Braille transcribers, the judges, and the women of the Rolling Hills Women’s Club. “A national contest like ours takes a lot of effort, dedication, and love for the project. We have the very best group of volunteers anyone could ask for,” Jacobsen remarked. “The Braille Readers Are Leaders contest has proven to increase the interest and ability of blind children as they develop Braille reading skills. Developing these skills at an early age will be one of the best gifts we can give our children as they grow into independent, successful, and competent adults,” she said.
It isn’t just the volunteers who love the Braille Readers contest. The students, parents, teachers, and administrators share our feelings for the importance of this reading program. Following, you will find letters from a previous contest winner and a teacher. They express the overwhelming need, interest, and gratitude for this Braille reading competition. Here they are:
Dear NFB,
I liked when I got first place in the Braille Readers Are Leaders contest. I worked hard to achieve my goal. Your contest encourages kids like myself to read. I got a bike with the money I won. We went to Wal*Mart to get my bike. I picked out the pink one. My dad put training wheels on the bike. Thanks again.
Sincerely,
Paige Tuttle
Just wanted to mention that when I first started working with Paul, one and one-half years ago, he barely would read one page of Braille independently. Even though he probably won’t be a contest winner, I am very proud of what he has accomplished.
Sincerely,
Mary Ellen Smith, teacher of the visually impaired
Not only has our Braille Readers Are Leaders contest increased blind children’s interest in reading, it is helping to lay the educational foundation these children need as they grow older. The Braille skills they develop will help them in many ways in the years to come. Preparation and review of class notes; using office and professional materials; and maintaining order in personal or financial records, files, videotapes, and other belongings are just a few of the hundreds of other uses they will find for Braille.
Blind people today have a myriad of devices and electronic systems that rely on Braille. Computers with Braille displays, portable notetakers, and computers with Braille keyboards and displays, Braille printers to produce documents, and many similar types of equipment are found at home, in school, and on the job. Without Braille skills blind people cannot take advantage of this technology. The following letter from a teacher of blind children illustrates this point:
I came to work with Nare just this year. She is a bright, motivated young lady. She had retinal detachment while in middle school and was taught grade 1 [uncontracted] Braille at that time. Prior to this year Nare was not familiar with grade 2 [contracted] Braille or technology for persons who are visually impaired and had been completing her high school education aurally. Nare knows she will need to continue to work hard (so much to learn) to be successful in college. This year she has finished grade 2 [contracted] Braille, and she has learned to use a BrailleNote [a portable Braille notetaker] and can now print her work in both Braille and print. She is also just beginning to use a computer with JAWS [a synthetic speech program]. I am so proud of her and thought you would be too! It pains me to think of how long ago she should have learned Braille. She did read much more than got documented and she chose to read some difficult stuff. I’m just proud of her for entering the contest.
Sheryl Smith
The Braille Readers Are Leaders contest has played a vital role in the development of blind children in need of help beyond increasing literacy skills. For example, children who have emigrated from other countries have used our contest to learn both Braille and English. Children who are deaf-blind and children with multiple disabilities who rely on Braille often require additional educational support. These students, who often struggle to keep up with their classmates, have found our contest an exciting way to improve their reading skills and also share in the same reading experiences as their friends.
The Braille Readers Are Leaders contest is clearly a labor of love. The blind children who participate love the reading they do and love the competition. Their parents and teachers love the increased skills and reading ability the children gain. The women of the Rolling Hills Women’s Club love their work on this important project, and we love them and are grateful for their help. The contest volunteers and judges love the awards, prizes, and honors given to the contestants, and the National Organization of Parents of Blind Children and the National Association to Promote the Use of Braille love sponsoring the contest. Most of all, though, we all love the children, and we love seeing the difference this contest makes in their lives.
We have an outstanding team working together to make our contest the successful program it has become. For twenty years now we have nurtured, educated, cared for, and watched our children as they have grown into successful blind adults. Thanks to everyone involved in the contest, we are looking forward to seeing future generations of blind children achieve the same success and accomplishment as their predecessors. When it comes to the Braille Readers Are Leaders contest, everyone is a winner.
Braille Readers Are Leaders Expands Program
by Barbara Cheadle
The Braille Readers Are Leaders Contest is a national contest for Braille students, kindergarten through twelfth grades. It is sponsored by the National Organization of Parents of Blind Children (NOPBC) and the National Association to Promote the Use of Braille (NAPUB); both organizations are affiliated divisions of the National Federation of the Blind. From November 1 to February 1, parents, teachers, or librarians help students keep track of the number of Braille pages they read of extracurricular material. At the end of the three months, thirty-five students from six different categories earn recognition and cash prizes as the top winners. Students who read five hundred or more Braille pages for the contest are also honored with special Braille ribbons, and all contestants receive recognition for participation.
Since 1984 the Braille Readers Are Leaders contest has inspired thousands of blind students to read more Braille. In 1994 a special award was instituted for participating schools for the blind, and in 1998 an outstanding teacher or librarian was first selected for public recognition of his or her support for the Braille Readers Are Leaders contest.
The dramatic increase in recent years in the number of students who participate and the letters and comments we receive from teachers and parents demonstrate that the program is a success. However, we are not content to rest on our laurels. As NOPBC and NAPUB laid plans to celebrate twenty years of promoting Braille through the Braille Readers Are Leaders contest, we also considered the next twenty years. What more could we do to promote Braille literacy?
We listened to teachers and parents and concluded that Braille Readers Are Leaders needed to be more than a contest; somehow it needed to include the kids who weren’t reading yet—the prereaders or emergent readers. It is common knowledge that the foundation for literacy skills and the motivation to learn to read are laid down years before a child begins formal reading instruction.
Thanks to a grant from the United Parcel Service (UPS), the Braille Readers Are Leaders Contest has expanded. It is now the Braille Readers Are Leaders Contest and Literacy Program for Braille Readers and Prereaders. Beginning November 1, 2003, Braille Readers Are Leaders will include the first annual BRL Reading Pals—a non-competitive Braille literacy program for blind infants, toddlers, preschoolers, and older students with reading delays.
The goal of this program is to encourage parents to read aloud to their children a minimum of fifteen minutes a day during the three-month period beginning November 1, 2003, and concluding February 1, 2004. Upon registering for BRL Reading Pals, parents will receive a three-month reading journal, a print/Braille children’s book, a Reading Pal (a small beanie-baby-style stuffed animal), instructions about how to complete the program, a resource list for children’s print/Braille books, and tips on how to promote a positive attitude about Braille and reading. At the conclusion of the program the parent and child will receive a certificate of completion and a special prize they can share together. Teachers or other adults, such as grandparents, may also register a child for this program. However, the adult must have regular and frequent opportunities to read aloud with the child.
To request contest entry forms or the BRL Reading Pals registration forms, please complete and send the following information to Braille Readers Are Leaders, 1800 Johnson Street, Baltimore, Maryland 21230; email <bcheadle@nfb.org>; (410) 659-9314 ext. 361.
Braille Readers Are Leaders
November 1, 2003 - February 1, 2004
Mail to: Braille Readers Are Leaders, 1800 Johnson Street, Baltimore, Maryland 21230; email <bcheadle@nfb.org>; (410) 659-9314 ext. 361.
[ ] I wish to request contest entry forms. I understand this is a contest for Braille-reading students, kindergarten through twelfth grades (including students in un-graded programs). Please send me ______ entry form(s)
[ ] I wish to request BRL Reading Pals registration forms. I understand this is a pre-Braille literacy program for blind and visually impaired prereaders (babies, toddlers, preschoolers, and older children who are not yet independent readers). Please send me ________ registration forms.
Please send them to my [ ] school/work address [ ] home address
Name ____________________________________________________________
[ ] Parent [ ] Teacher [ ] Librarian [ ]Other ______________________
Address___________________________________________________________
City, State, Zip _____________________________________________________
The best way to contact me is by:
Email: __________________________________________________________
(PLEASE PRINT LEGIBLY)
Telephone: (H)_______________ (W)_______________ (C ) _______________
For more information about these and other programs sponsored by the National Organization of Parents of Blind Children (NOPBC) or the National Association to Promote the Use of Braille (NAPUB), contact Barbara Cheadle, President, NOPBC, (410) 659-9314 ext. 360; email <bcheadle@nfb.org>; or Nadine Jacobson, President, NAPUB, (952) 927-7694; email <Nadine.Jacobson@visi.com>.
Receiving a High School Diploma in New Mexico
by Jennifer McClarin
Reprinted from Volume 7, Number 4, of Howe’s Now, a publication of the Council of Schools for the Blind, COSB.
Editor’s Note: There are two things that I find noteworthy and newsworthy about the following article. First, it provides a peek into the complexities and changes occurring around something that once seemed rather straightforward—the high school diploma. I do not have a position, pro or con, on the diploma program adopted by New Mexico and as described below. My purpose in reprinting this article is merely to stimulate—maybe even jolt—readers into investigating what’s happening on the diploma front in their own states, and the implications of any changes for all blind students. The other item I find of great interest concerns a specific graduation requirement at the New Mexico School for the Visually Handicapped (NMSVH), and is contained in the last two sentences (feel free to skip ahead and read them if you like). Kudos to the NMSVH! Other schools for the blind would do well to emulate this forward-looking practice in the support of Braille literacy. Here is the article in full:
In January 2000, New Mexico instituted new standards for special education students to receive a diploma. The New Mexico State Department of Education (SDE), via an Individualized Education Plan (IEP) Graduation Task Force, addressed the issues of integrity, consistency, and accountability and developed new state regulations in regards to IEP graduations. Students receiving special education services are able to earn their high school diploma by following one of three clearly defined programs of study: Standard, Career Readiness, and Ability. These are called Pathways to the Diploma.
Based upon student needs and the impact of their disability, the IEP team determines the most appropriate program of study prior to the student entering high school. Rationale for the selection of the particular program is documented in the IEP and goals and objectives are written. A graduation program, including a four-year plan of courses, must be a part of an IEP prior to the student entering the ninth grade or reaching age fourteen.
Due to the core curriculum needs of students with a visual impairment, sometimes the four-year plan becomes a five-year plan. A longer high school program is best discussed as an option when a student is in middle school, so that when high school plans are being made, a five-year plan may be viewed as an opportunity rather than a failure.
The program that must always be considered as the first option is the Standard Program. In this program a student must complete all SDE high school graduation requirements, with or without accommodations. In New Mexico, graduation requirements consist of the completion of a minimum of twenty-three units in specified content areas and passing of the New Mexico State Competency Exam.
The Career Readiness Program takes into account a student’s needs as a result of the disability and allows for substitution of classes as appropriate. It may be chosen only after the Standard Program of Study was considered. The career readiness program is based on the New Mexico Career Readiness Standards with Benchmarks. The student’s IEP should document classes, courses, and/or experiences that will be utilized to assure that the student achieves the IEP standards and benchmarks.
The Ability Program is based upon a student’s needs with IEP goals, objectives, and benchmarks identified to provide the most appropriate program for the student. Under this graduation plan, the majority of the goals and objectives relate to life and community skills. The ability program is typically identified for students with severe cognitive, physical, and/or mental health challenges, and may be chosen only after the other two programs of study have been considered.
All IEPs should document the student’s progress toward completing the identified program of study. Students who do not take the New Mexico High School Competency Exam must take the New Mexico Alternative Assessment (developed and approved by the SDE). Successful completion of the program of study earns the student a high school diploma and the right to participate equally in all graduation activities. The receipt of a high school diploma terminates access to special education services, as does a GED.
If, at the time of planned completion of a program, the student has not completed all graduation requirements, the student may receive a certificate indicating the number of credits earned and the grade completed. If a certificate is awarded, a follow-up plan of action must be made and the student is still eligible for special education services until receipt of a diploma or until the end of the academic year in which the student turns twenty-two years old. A student receiving a certificate has the option of participating in graduation activities at the time they would normally have received their diploma (i.e. with their “class) or they may elect to participate in graduation at a later date when they can receive their upgraded diploma.
All pathways lead to the same diploma. The Standard New Mexico General Education Diploma will be awarded upon completion of any of the three programs of study. All diplomas awarded by a school district must be identical in appearance, content, and effect, except that symbols or notations may be added to individual student’s diplomas to reflect official school honors or awards earned by students.
In addition to courses stipulated by the state, the New Mexico School for the Visually Handicapped (NMSVH) requires the completion of two other classes unless it is determined by the IEP team to be inappropriate for a student. Seniors are required to take a Life Competencies course. This class focuses on survival skills after high school. Students research careers, practice applying and interviewing for jobs, complete resumes, open checking accounts, fill out rental agreements and tax forms, complete college applications and practice functional activities in many other life skill areas. The other requirement for graduation from NMSVH is completion of two semesters of Braille. For students who are already proficient Braille users (assessed annually), this requirement is waived.
Jennifer McClarin is a Teacher/Inclusion Coordinator at the New Mexico School for the Visually Handicapped.
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It’s Perfectly Normal
Editor’s Note: We do not take paid advertisements in Future Reflections, but we do pass on information to readers about products or literature that we think will be of interest to them. The National Braille Press (NBP) publishes many useful books in Braille for adults, children, and youth. We thought you would like to know about the following items:
Book: It’s Perfectly Normal: Changing Bodies, Growing Up, Sex, and Sexual Health, by Robie H. Harris. Ages 10-14. In Braille (2 volumes) or PortaBook, $10.99.
In this caring, conscientious, and well-crafted book, author Robie Harris offers a candid, thorough, and reassuring introduction to human sexuality.
In forthright and detailed te