Future

The Blind Lead the Sighted: Technology for People with Disabilities Finds a Broader Market

For more information about blindness and children contact the
National Organization of Parents of Blind Children
1800 Johnson Street * Baltimore, Maryland 21230 * (410) 659-9314 ext. 360
www.nfb.org * nfb@nfb.org * BCheadle@nfb.org

It is time to plan for the 2002 convention of the National Federation of the Blind. This year we will gather in Louisville, Kentucky, home of the Kentucky Derby.

We will return to the hospitality of the Galt House Hotel and the Galt House East Tower, where we conducted our 1985 convention. Once again our hotel rates are the envy of all. For the 2002 convention they are singles, doubles, and twins $57 and triples and quads $63. In addition to the room rates there will be a tax, which at present is 12.36 percent. No charge will be made for children fifteen and under in the room with parents as long as no extra bed is requested.

For 2002 convention room reservations you should write directly to the Galt House Hotel, 140 N. Fourth Street, Louisville, Kentucky 40202 or call (502) 589-5200. You can make reservations for either the Galt House Hotel (known familiarly as the Galt House West) or the Galt House East Tower (called the Galt House East) by calling this number. The restaurants and outdoor pool are located on the west side of the facility, and the East Tower is comprised of suites with a living room, refrigerator, and wet bar. The hotel will want a deposit of $60 or a credit card number. If you use a credit card, the deposit will be charged against your card immediately, just as would be the case with a $60 check. If a reservation is cancelled prior to June 1, 2002, $30 of the $60 deposit will be returned. Otherwise refunds will not be made.

The West Tower has twenty-five floors, and the East Tower has eighteen. Guest-room amenities include cable television, coffee pot, iron and ironing board, hair drier, and dataport.

The Galt House has two restaurants, the River Grill, which is moderately priced, and the Flagship, a revolving restaurant on the roof, which provides one of Louisville’s finest dining experiences, with prices to match. See later issues of the Monitor for information about tours and other attractions in the Greater Louisville area.

The 2002 convention of the National Federation of the Blind will be a truly exciting and memorable event, with a program unparalleled and a rededication to the goals and work of our movement. Make plans now to be a part of it. The schedule this year is somewhat different from our usual one. Pre-convention seminars for parents of blind children and other groups and set-up of the exhibit hall will take place on Wednesday, July 3, and adjournment will be Tuesday, July 9, at 5:00 p.m. Convention registration will begin on Thursday, July 4, and both Thursday and Friday will be filled with meetings of divisions and committees, including the Friday morning annual meeting of the Board of Directors of the National Federation of the Blind, which is open to all.

General convention sessions begin on Saturday and continue through the afternoon of Tuesday, July 9. The annual banquet will take place on Monday evening, July 8. To assure yourself a room in the headquarters hotel at convention rates, you must make reservations early. The hotel will be ready to take your call or deal with your written request by January 1.

Remember that as usual we need door prizes from state affiliates, local chapters, and individuals. Once again prizes should be small in size but large in value. Cash, of course, is always appropriate and welcome. As a general rule we ask that prizes of any variety have a value of at least $25. Drawings will occur steadily throughout the convention sessions, and you can anticipate a grand prize of truly impressive proportions to be drawn at the banquet. You may bring door prizes with you or send them ahead of time (identifying the item and donor and listing the value in print and Braille) to Kevin Pearl, 2716 Hillside Terrace, Louisville, Kentucky 40206‑2513.

The best collection of exhibits, featuring new technology; meetings of our special interest groups, committees, and divisions; memorable tours arranged by the host Kentucky affiliate; the most stimulating and provocative program items of any meeting of the blind in the world; the chance to renew friendships in our Federation family; and the unparalleled opportunity to be where the real action is and where decisions are being made – all of these mean you will not want to miss being a part of the 2002 National Convention. We’ll see you in Louisville in 2002!

Barbara Cheadle, President,
National Organization of Parents
of Blind Children
(410) 659-9314, ext. 360
BCheadle@nfb.org

The National Federation of the Blind of Alabama is honored to announce that it has been awarded a grant by the Alabama Civil Justice Foundation to conduct a weekend Parent’s of Blind Children Workshop. The Alabama Civil Justice Foundation was created by Alabama’s legal community as a charitable philanthropy, committed to the belief that every person should have a sense of well-being, a quality education, the opportunity to live and work in a safe environment, and the chance to work and earn a living.

The National Federation of the Blind is the nation’s leader in programs for the blind. The Federation has been teaching parents, students, and blind adults for over sixty years the basic principals that it is respectable to be blind and that blind people can compete with their sighted peers.

The grant will sponsor fifteen families to attend the State Convention of the National Federation of the Blind of Alabama, where they will participate in the activities of the convention and attend specially designed seminars to learn strategies for educational development, confidence building, and setting realistic expectations. At the convention parents will have an opportunity to meet positive blind adult role models as well as learn about services available to them. Classes will be conducted in Technology, Braille, and Independent Travel.

The seminar and convention will be in Huntsville Alabama at the Huntsville Hilton Hotel March 15-17, 2002. To obtain a registration form, contact, Mrs. Daphne Johnson, Chairperson
Parents of Blind Children Committee.

Reprinted with permission from the November 2000, issue of English Journal, a publication of the National Council of Teachers of English.

Editor’s Note: Deborah Hartz teaches high school English at the Arizona School for the Blind in Tucson. A few years ago, at the National Federation of the National Convention, she was recognized for her outstanding work in promoting Braille literacy through the Braille Readers Are Leaders Contest. She has also published stories in Future Reflections and in the NFB Kernel Books series about her experiences as the mother of a blind daughter.

“Mrs. Hartz, I think you are going to be proud of me.” Beth is maneuvering her wheelchair between several student desks and a printer table. She is heading for a computer equipped with voice output to take a test on a book she has finished. Beth is blind and has cerebral palsy. Four years ago she read Braille, as she describes it, “at about a kindergarten level.” She had learned the contractions needed to read Braille, but her reading skills had not yet become automatic. After physical therapy and further Braille instruction, Beth is able to read seventh grade materials independently and eighth and ninth grade materials with the help of a Franklin Language Master – a speaking, electronic dictionary. Beth occasionally has a spasm strong enough to make her hands change lines in her reading material. Her reading speed lags behind her comprehension, and she reads at speeds between ten and forty‑five words per minute, depending on the difficulty of the material.

This is the first week that Beth has been able to browse in a library independently and select the books that she wants to read. Over the weekend, she logged onto several online databases using her home computer and screen reading software, JAWS (Job Access With Speech) for Windows. She downloaded the files for several books and accessed the material using her Braille note-taking device. All of this was done independently, thanks to technology.

I teach high school English to blind and low vision students at the Arizona School for the Blind (ASB) in Tucson. Students in my classroom employ a variety of technologies on a daily basis. In this article, I report on the full range of technologies that my students are using. While some of these practices will work well with students who are not visually impaired, other technologies are blindness specific. Some equipment may not be useful in your classroom unless you have a visually impaired student.

Six years ago, my major concern was access to the printed word for my blind students. My most advanced class that year included four blind juniors and seniors who attended the University of Arizona after graduation from ASB. These students were proficient Braille readers, and yet none of these articulate, bright Braille users was registered to receive Braille books through the mail from our regional cooperating library. The National Library Service for the Blind and Physically Handicapped was established as a branch of the Library of Congress in 1931. It operates a network of regional libraries that lends Braille books to blind individuals using the United States Postal Service. There is no postage charged; the books are sent as “Free Matter for the Blind or Physically Handicapped.” My students were receiving only the taped books available through the mail from our State Talking Book Library in Phoenix.

When I questioned these students about their reading habits, three admitted that they read in Braille only those books that others selected for them. Occasionally they had been allowed to make choices among several books, but they had not really ever had the opportunity to browse and self-select books. This situation shook me. I could not imagine students going off to college who had never had the opportunity to choose their own recreational reading material. Younger students on our campus independently discovered books of interest and ordered them by calling the toll‑free number of the cooperating library. But to think that several of my intelligent, college‑bound students made it to their senior year without self‑selecting books amazed me.

When it came time for report writing, I was again amazed. I was hired in 1994. The World Book Encyclopedia in Braille, which took up a large portion of a wall of the library, had been published in 1964. Anything that took place after John F. Kennedy’s assassination did not appear in that encyclopedia. Thirty years of history and discoveries were missing. One student told me that his strategy for choosing a report topic was to pick an out‑of‑date subject to ensure that he could find materials in Braille. Of course blind individuals did choose more current topics in 1994, but they found themselves relying heavily on a sighted reader searching print books for relevant material. This material could then be recorded and read to the student, who took notes on it in Braille, or it could be transcribed into Braille for the blind individual to access. There were also periodicals that were produced in accessible formats (flexible record disks, audio cassettes, or Braille). In addition, each year the Library of Congress would decide which current print books would be converted to an accessible format to be circulated through its lending
libraries.

A college dictionary in Braille takes up seventy‑two large volumes. As I moved the 4’ x 8’ bookshelf that housed the Braille dictionary into my classroom from the teacher’s workroom six years ago, I pondered the enormity of my task. A classroom is only so big. To build a diverse classroom library that would include standard print, large print, and Braille materials in sufficient quantities to allow for browsing would be a monumental undertaking. And yet, I knew it had to be done. Students read more when they can readily sample books of all types. I tackled the task with enthusiasm, signed students up with the regional library, and ordered my first piece of technology.

The full‑speaking Franklin Language Master Special Edition was that first purchase, and it remains one of the most useful tools in my English classroom. A dictionary and thesaurus is combined in one compact device that measures an inch thick and less than six inches square. This dictionary can be carried around in a backpack. (For a complete description of the Franklin line of products, check out their Web site at http://franklin.com.)

All of my students use this talking dictionary, but it has been most helpful for students who speak a language other than English at home or who have identified, specific learning disabilities. The Special Edition costs about $450 and is well worth the price. What an improvement over that first semester, when I had four blind students moving back and forth to the bookshelf to locate the specific volume that contained a vocabulary word. As my classroom library expanded to eight tall bookshelves, a rotating display rack, and other miscellaneous bookholders, the Braille dictionary was again banished to a storage room. The “dictionary bookshelf “ now houses a collection of books for students just beginning the transition from print to Braille.

Technology is infused into all aspects of my curriculum. At one end of the room are two stand‑alone computers, one networked computer with Internet access, a printer, and a Kurzweil reading machine (a scanner with optical character recognition that converts print into spoken language). A filing cabinet stores my electronic dictionaries, a portable disk drive, a Braille Lite (a laptop computer with a refreshable Braille display – pins that move up and down to form one line of Braille at a time), and all of the necessary cables and connectors.

Eight bookshelves line my walls, providing students with a classroom library of Braille, standard print, and large print books. In addition, a disk box on top of the filing cabinet contains books that have been saved to computer disk as text files. These books can be loaded into the portable note-takers that many of my students use to be accessed via speech. When the books are loaded into the Braille Lite 40, they can be read in Braille using a forty‑cell refreshable Braille display.

Next to the door of my classroom is a desk with a dedicated printer for Braille note-takers and a tape recorder. Though the panel phone above this desk cannot be used to call long distance, it can dial toll‑free numbers. Students use this phone to order Braille books or to make tech support calls. Along the opposite wall, in an alcove between bookshelves, is the desk with a closed circuit television (CCTV) that magnifies the print in a book and displays it on a monitor.

My students now have access to a wealth of information. Scanners and Braille translation software make the transcription of materials into Braille much easier. Students read newspapers online using the World Wide Web. They save articles to disk and read them at a later time using a Braille ’n Speak, a computer with voice output, or a refreshable Braille display. Using online periodical searches, students can access abstracts of articles on a given topic and determine which branch of our city library carries the magazine. By calling that branch, we can have a fax of the material forwarded to our school for transcription into Braille.

The shelves of my classroom library are overflowing with books. Two closets in the conference room contain further shelving, as do the cupboards that line the fourth wall of my classroom. My current focus has shifted to developing the discipline and skill to handle this glut of information. How can I help students to read better and faster in order to handle the demands of an increasingly complex, information‑dense world? How do I teach the flexibility and problem-solving that is necessary in a milieu of ever‑changing technology? How can I teach students to judge the validity of information that they are accessing?

As an English teacher, my concern is to teach students to read and write effectively. I want them to look forward to reading a book. I want them prepared for the demands of life and work and college. I want them to know that writing allows communication across time and space and that one well‑written letter or article may change their world.

For writing we compose, revise, and edit on personal computers with the JAWS screen reading software and a DecTalk Express or Accent SA speech synthesizer. Students who need screen enlargement use a computer with ZoomText Extra enlargement software. Other students use a Braille note-taker (a Braille’n Speak or Braille Lite), Perkin’s Brailler (a manual Braille writer equivalent to a typewriter), or the slate and stylus (a metal frame with an awl‑like tool that produces Braille a dot at a time). Some low vision students write with a black felt tip marker, viewing their enlarged handwriting on the monitor of my closed circuit television.

The Braille ’n Speak is a laptop computer the size of a videocassette that allows a student to use Braille to input data. There is no screen for viewing; speech, print, or Braille are the output media. On this device, a student can compose and edit files with ease. It can be hooked to a printer, and the translation software within it will convert the Braille to print. When it’s connected to an embosser, Braille can be produced.

The Braille Lite 40 is a note-taking device that features a refreshable Braille display. This machine is used extensively during editing. Students write their papers on a Braille ’n Speak or a computer and then transfer their files to my Braille Lite, using a portable disk drive. The Braille Lite 40 has cursor routing. Blind students can read their files in Braille, locate the errors in the Braille text, and push a button just above the error to route the cursor to the proper location for making the correction. This is a more efficient process for editing than the use of auditory feedback on a Braille ’n Speak or a computer. Unless the student has reason to doubt the spelling of a word, the misspelling is not readily apparent with voice output. It is easier to check the spellings of those nasty homophones on a Braille display.

Our procedures for composing, revising, and editing are similar to those used in other electronic classrooms. However, since it is ineffective to write comments on a blind student’s paper, my responses are written to the student as a text file. Students revise their papers on a computer or Braille note-taker, toggling between two files to incorporate suggestions into the revised paper. Often assignments or responses to student writing are sent to students via e-mail.

Last year we went beyond the asynchronous mode of e-mail as we tested the use of Old Pueblo, a MOO that operates over the Internet from the University of Arizona. A MOO (Multi‑user dimension, Object Oriented) is a “text‑based, virtual reality site” that allows the “manipulation and interaction with cyber‑objects in addition to just chatting with other people” (Lingua‑MOO Web site). Students met with one another in a cyber world reminiscent of the old text‑based Adventure game. One room of Old Pueblo was a conference room equipped with the tools needed for a group of users to revise and edit a paper together in synchronous time.

On the reading side of the curriculum are the online libraries of books that can be downloaded as text files. These books can be put into hard copy Braille using Braille transcription software and an embosser, or they can be accessed on a Braille note-taker. By connecting the note-taker to a portable disk drive, entire books can be transferred and read via speech output or a refreshable Braille display.

I used to drive myself crazy trying to determine whether my students were reading the pages they claimed. I have had students make up entirely new plots for nonexistent books in hopes of snowing me and getting extra points for outside reading. Two years ago, I installed the Accelerated Reader Program on my DOS computer. JAWS for DOS reads the multiple‑choice tests well, and my blind students take the tests independently. We have quarterly contests between teams, with the winning team coming to my house for dinner. This has been a motivator in my classroom. I try to keep students reading a variety of books. My goal is to have students reading more challenging books without becoming frustrated. Recent research in my classroom supports the theory that students who are reading in their “zone of proximal development” will make significant reading progress.

I use the Accelerated Reader TitleFinder CD, which contains a listing of 33,000 books with estimated reading levels, as one tool to help to determine the degree of difficulty when students are selecting books. I also use the reading level estimates provided within Microsoft Word. Although the levels that are generated by this program are estimated by a formula that considers the syllables/word and the words/sentences, not the difficulty of vocabulary, they give me an idea as to the relative difficulty of books. Accelerated Reader has recently converted to the ATOS (Advantage‑TASA Open Standard) Readability Formula. The new formula takes into account the length of the book and the average grade level of words, as well as the number of words/sentence and characters/word. (Advantage Learning Systems, Inc.) My TitleFinder CD still uses the Flesch‑Kincaid, the formula used in Microsoft Word. I am looking forward to the switch to a formula that attempts to control for the difficulty of vocabulary. Even so, the final determination of the difficulty of a book needs to take into consideration the interests, experience base, and word knowledge of the individual student.

Recently, my first‑period class accompanied me to the Learning Resource Center, where we picked up eleven boxes of the new Braille ’n Speak 2000 models. Returning to the classroom, I realized the magnitude of my task. My students needed to review their files, transferring important files to a new Braille ’n Speak 2000. Some students had fifty or more files of all sorts – phone directories, calendars, math homework, biology notes, reports, stories, games, etc. Once the files were transferred, the Braille ’n Speak could be assigned to another student. In my classroom, I have one portable disk drive by which these files can be transferred easily. One student at a time was able to work with the disk drive. While this student worked relatively independently, I taught the other seven students in the class.

One week later shipping boxes still block three of my bookshelves. Blue, fuchsia, and gray Braille ’n Speaks are stacked on any free surface in my classroom so that I can record each serial number as devices are checked in and out. The accessories are driving me to distraction. The Classics and the 640s (two Braille ’n Speak models) use 9‑volt battery chargers and have rectangular ports. The Scholars and 2000s use 12‑volt chargers and have round ports. Students need to return their chargers before I issue new ones. I recheck my records and update them. A new batch of in‑the‑ear earphones arrived with the new devices. Once I issue all of this equipment, class can return to “normal.” I wonder how I ever got involved in such a process during finals’ week.

Given all of this trouble, why do I support the intensive use of technology in my classroom? The equipment is always changing. My room is in such an uproar over the arrival of these new devices that I despair of ever putting it back in order. Learning to use new technology takes time, and that is already at a premium. Some of my high school students are struggling to write a coherent sentence. Why should I devote a portion of my English classes to technology when the state standards have goals for reading and writing that are above the current performance of many of my students? The answer is that the payoffs are impressive when technology is working well. Several examples of technology that works spring to mind.

On Wednesdays during lunch, a small group of students meets with me to read Shakespeare. We are currently reading Twelfth Night. Up until this week, all of my Shakespeare‑at‑lunch students have been print readers. Three students have tunnel vision and read small print (10 or 12 point font) but with severely reduced visual fields. The other two students read Large Print or use a CCTV to enlarge the print. However, one student, Amanda, has invited more students to join us. Several are Braille readers.

Technology came to my rescue. Kathy Barry, our transcriptionist, downloaded a copy of Twelfth Night from the Internet and saved it as an ASCII text file. Within the day, I had a disk copy that could be loaded into a Braille Lite and read via the refreshable Braille display. Kathy also produced hard copy Braille for acts four and five. The computer disk was obtained within two class periods. Technology is truly amazing!

Technology motivates students to write and edit, and learn. On the first day of school, I assigned a Braille ’n Speak to Jerry and Shawna, incoming freshmen. Both of these students had been exposed to this equipment in middle school but neither had had a note-taker for personal use. Within a class period, we had reviewed creating and writing files. A day later, these students were editing documents.

Jerry is a technology fanatic. He found the internal Help file and overnight was able to explain every feature of the Braille ’n Speak to Shawna. Phone directories, recipes, files of codes for Play-Station or Nintendo games soon appeared in their directories. They could use the alarm feature to wake up in the morning or the stopwatch to check on their reading speed.

I taught Jerry and Shawna only the features that pertained to reading, writing, and editing. Students learn from associating with more proficient technology users. This concentration of Braille readers and technology users is a major strength of a residential school for the blind. Students share their expertise after school hours with each other.

The day before school began this year, Shawna appeared at my classroom door and introduced herself. She was nervous about making the transition to high school. She wanted an idea of what my English class would be like. She commented that she did not enjoy reading or writing. I asked her about her interests. She mentioned watching the World Wrestling Federation and the Animorphs on television. Shawna left my classroom with the first volume of a Brailled Animorphs’ book under her arm. Her enthusiasm for English skyrocketed the next day when I assigned her a Braille ’n Speak. Within two months, Shawna was regularly staying up past eleven to read or write. Harry Potter, the Animorphs, Stephen King ... her Braille reading speed increased from thirty‑three to seventy words per minute, and her creative stories often exceeded twenty pages in length. She began to declare that she intends to become either an author or a country‑western singer. I believe that technology was a major component in her attitude change.

Some of my students are learning Braille as their visual acuity or visual fields are decreasing. Often these students are struggling to read the notes that they are taking by hand. Once they are able to write the alphabet in Braille, they can begin to take notes on a Braille ’n Speak. I can show an academic student who knows the Braille alphabet how to create, write, and read files in a single class period. This student is then able to take notes and access them. I teach the other Braille ’n Speak features as needed within my regular English classes.

This new order of Braille ’n Speaks has allowed me to outfit an entire Biology class with note-takers. Five of these students still have usable vision, which allows them to take handwritten notes and read them back fairly easily. But for students with progressive eye disorders, it is important to teach skills that compensate for vision loss before the students need them. Only one of these students complained vociferously during the first note-taking session. Her eye condition is progressive, and yet she kept stating that she will never need Braille or a Braille note-taker. It is my hope that she will soon recognize the power of these devices and embrace rather than fight this learning opportunity.

During fourth period, I am in the Learning Resource Center (LRC) computer lab with my junior/senior class working on writing portfolios to be submitted to the Composition Board at the University of Arizona for evaluation. The reluctant Braille ’n Speak user is in this class. She has not yet written an expository piece for her portfolio, and grades for this quarter are due tomorrow. She tells me that she cannot stay after school to work on her paper because she is not a dorm student. Perhaps if I were willing to drive the twenty miles to Marana to take her home, things could be worked out. She is banking on the fact that I probably don’t have time to drive her home tonight. I tell her that by using the Braille ’n Speak she can write her paper at home. The Braille ’n Speak is, after all, a laptop computer.

Fifteen years ago, as I was training at the University of Arizona to become a teacher of blind and visually impaired children, there was a lot of debate about the impact that technology would have on the education of blind children. At that time, some people within the field predicted that technology would replace the use of Braille. Blind individuals would be able to type papers on a computer with speech output. They could listen to books on tape. Reading machines such as the Kurzweil could be used to access print material. Blind students could record their lectures. Notes could be transcribed on the computer.

There were reasons that some people advocated dropping the use of Braille. Braille was bulky – who wants a seventy‑two volume dictionary? Reading Braille was slow. Most college professors choose new books to teach from, and the books have not been put into Braille. Transcribing books would take too long – the class might be over before the book was ready. A relatively untrained individual can read a textbook onto an audio tape, whereas the transcription of a book into Braille required a skilled individual. However, as technology advanced, Braille did not become obsolete. In fact, the use of Braille has become much more important and feasible for the blind student or employee.

Scanners with optical character recognition and translation software make the production of a Braille book much more rapid. Our transcriptionist has produced some thick books within one or two days, if the typeface is clear in the print copy. With the advent of refreshable Braille, books can be saved as text files and read in Braille with no Braille hard copy needed. Blind college students are now able to carry all of their books in a disk box in their backpacks.

Braille is not always slow. Some Braille readers can read at speeds of 300‑400 words per minute. Many Braille readers do not improve because they don’t believe it is possible to read fast, and they do not practice reading Braille. Practice is essential. If students are always allowed to choose a medium other than Braille to use, their Braille skills do not
improve.

Taped books are not an efficient medium when the goal is locating specific pieces of information. Tapes are linear. They must be run back and forth through the tape head when searching for specific data. Many Braille users complain that audio books put them to sleep and that reading Braille is a more active process than reading by listening. A sighted reader or a Braille user will pause to think when new concepts appear or when information needs to be processed to be understood. As the tape plows ahead relentlessly, the mind is apt to wander. It is often necessary for a tape user to rewind the tape several times in order to comprehend the material adequately. A student searching for a specific quotation to use as supporting evidence in a literary analysis might take a great deal of time to locate it on a tape. That same person could search a disk file and locate the quote by searching for a target word or phrase in a fraction of the time, which could be used more productively to improve the
writing.

It is vital that blind students become successful Braille users. According to Kirchner, 70 percent of blind individuals of working age are unemployed. Those with literacy skills are able to meet the needs of competitive employment. Students who consider themselves auditory learners must still read and write in either print or Braille.

Beth turned eighteen last year and began receiving Supplemental Security Income due to her disabilities. She saved her money and purchased a fully speaking Franklin Language Master Special Edition electronic dictionary, a Braille ’n Speak 2000, and a portable disk drive. She also upgraded her computer and purchased JAWS for Windows so that she can access the Internet when she is at home.

Prior to her investment in technology, Beth “read” using recorded books. Spelling and the conventions of writing are often learned serendipitously while reading print or Braille, and taped books do not include the spellings of words or the punctuation. Beth had only a limited exposure to spelling, and her papers reflected that limitation.

The Franklin Language Master provides audible spellings as well as definitions. When Beth first got her talking dictionary, it would often take four or five attempts before her spelling would be close enough to standard to pull the desired word into the correction list. After a month and a half of using her Language Master consistently, Beth spelled words closely enough to the standard that about 75 percent of the time she would retrieve the desired word in her correction list on her first attempt. She was so inspired by her new freedom to learn through the use of technology that she ran down the batteries in her dictionary in two and a half weeks. (The batteries in my classroom dictionaries last about three months, and students use my dictionaries six periods per day.)

This year as I reviewed Beth’s writing goals, I noted with satisfaction that she made progress with editing for spelling. Her goal stated that she would have fewer than ten spelling errors per typed, double‑spaced page. Though this goal may not seem rigorous, it was a major improvement over the forty or fifty errors that might have occurred a year ago. One paper that Beth edited this year had just three errors in nine typed pages. Never would this progress have occurred without the Braille ’n Speak and the electronic dictionary.

As teachers we need to be flexible. When we experience technical difficulties, we need to remain composed and think of other ways to achieve our goals. Developing our students’ abilities to solve problems is crucial to their success in a complex society. One way to begin this process is by verbalizing the choices that we make as we solve problems. Another is to take the time to question the students about the obstacles they encounter and the successes they are making while using technology or completing a task.

An effective method for making this process concrete is to have students keep a learning log as a separate file in their note-takers, where they report daily on things that they learn. They record successes as well as the many frustrating details that seem to impede progress when starting a new project. I have been surprised by the types of things that cause students to get staffed on a project. Keeping and reviewing a learning log can minimize these delays. We discuss our logs in class and brainstorm for possible solutions.

Overworked? Exhausted by the demands that technology is placing upon you? Have your students read the manuals and the Help files. They can make tech support calls. Students can help each other. It is important that teachers are well grounded in the standard features of a machine, but just knowing what the advanced features are is sufficient. It is only necessary that you are able to whet the appetite of a learner. When possible, share the workload with students. They will be better prepared for life, and you will have time to plan lessons, grade papers, or read a novel.

Advantage Learning Systems, Inc. “Accelerated Reader ATOS Summary.” 13 June 2000. <http://advlearn.com/ar/aratossumary.htm>.

Kirchner, Corinne, Emilie Schmeidler, and Alexander Todorov, Looking at Employment through a Lifespan Telescope: Age, Health and Employment Status of People with Serious Visual Impairment, Mississippi State University Rehabilitation, Research and Training Center of Blindness and Low Vision, 1999.

Lingua MOO.Ed. Cynthia Haynes and Jan Holmevik. University of Texas at Dallas. 6 July 2000. <http://lingua.utdallas.edu/>.

Old Pueblo MOO. 20 July 1998. College of Humanities and the Faculty Development Partnership, University of Arizona. 6 July 2000. <http://www.u.arizona.edu/~danika/moo/>.

Blazie Engineering (producer of the Braille ’n Speak, Braille Lite, the portable disk drive, and many other products).
<http://www.Blazie.com>.

Computer Resource List (updated in March 2001 by the International Braille and Technology Center for the Blind).
<http://www.nfb.org/tech/computer.htm>.

International Braille and Technology Center for the Blind (independent evaluation and demonstration of equipment for the blind). <http://www.nfb.org/tech.htm>.

National Library Service for the Blind and Physically Handicapped.
<http://www.loc.gov/nls/>.

At the 2000 NFB Convention, Sharon Maneki (right) presents a placque to Denise Mackenstadt (left), as the 2000 recipient of the Distinguished Educator of Blind Children Award.

Editor’s Note: In July 2001, Denise Mackenstadt became the first Braille instructional assistant to receive the prestigious Distinguished Educator of Blind Children Award given annually by the National Federation of the Blind. In the next issue of Future Reflections we will feature the speech she gave at the 2001 Annual Meeting of the National Organization of Parents of Blind Children. In the meantime, we reprint the following article in salute to Mrs. Mackenstadt, and to all instructional aides/para-educators who work tirelessly and diligently on behalf of their blind students.

The greatest gift will come when the boy she has pushed and fought and cared about for six years no longer needs her.

“I’m slowly fading away. It’s a triumph,” says Denise Mackenstadt, a teacher’s aide at Skyview Junior High in Bothell.

Since 14-year-old Chris Micelli was in second grade, “Mrs. Mack,” as he calls her, has been by his side, guiding him through crowded hallways, spinning visual lessons into auditory and tactile ones, goading him into finally learning Braille, mastering the latest technology for the blind – and never letting him give up on himself.

Chris sums up Mrs. Mack this way: “She knows what I can do, and she won’t let me get away with doing less. Sometimes that’s bad.”

It is these qualities – Mackenstadt’s dedication and high expectations of blind students – that recently earned her the nation’s Distinguished Educator of Blind Children Award. Mackenstadt is the first teacher’s aide to win the honor, which the National Federation of the Blind will present to her at its annual convention July 1 in Philadelphia. Classroom teachers have always won the award. The honor comes with a $500 check, a plaque and an all-expenses-paid trip to the convention, where she will address the National Organization of Parents of Blind Children.

“This award is very heartfelt because it is coming from blind people themselves,” she said.

Mackenstadt plans to use the award to tout the hard work of all teachers’ aides and to call for more training for those who work with disabled students. She said one of the toughest struggles with Chris was teaching him to read. For two years after he lost his sight in first grade due to a congenital disorder, he refused to learn to read Braille – the only way blind people can read.

“When he was young and so angry and wanted to give up, I told him, ‘I’m going to outlast you.’” And she did. She tried everything, then came across the magic reading tool: joke books.

Mackenstadt does have a personal advantage. “My husband is totally blind – has been since about the same time Chris lost his sight – and that helps me say, ‘This isn’t working for me,’ when Chris says he can’t do something,” she said. “And that’s frustrating for him because I raise the bar and when he meets it, we raise it again.” Chris has always been in regular classes and has completed the same work as his peers. Mackenstadt says it’s a balancing act to know how much he needs from her, and how much he can – and should – do on his own. The goal, which they are on track for, is that he become almost totally independent after next year, in time for high school.

Sharon Maneki, chairman of the National Federation of the Blind’s award-selection committee, said the committee chose Mackenstadt for her “exceptional teaching” and her countless volunteer hours in the disabled community. She helps run a Saturday family program for blind kids, promotes Braille training for educators, and is involved in Northshore School District’s parent advocacy group for families with disabled children.

Noel Nightingale, President of the Federation’s Washington branch, said she nominated Mackenstadt because, unlike schools in general, Mackenstadt expects a lot from blind students. “And she has taken the time to get to know blind people and what it is that makes us successful as adults,” she said. “She doesn’t think she knows what’s best for us. She listens to us and is with us as a peer and colleague.”

Editor’s Note: Most of the teacher appreciation letters I receive are from parents, and about teachers and students that I do not know and have never met. However, I have had the great pleasure and good fortune of knowing every one of the individuals in the following letter for a number of years. I work closely with Karen, who is President of the Maryland Parents of Blind Children, on local parent projects; I’ve watched Amy grow into a young lady; and I have served with both Karen DeFeo and Betsy Clark on various committees. In fact, I had the honor of presenting Betsy Clark with the National Federation of the Blind of Maryland’s Distinguished Educator of Blind Children Award a few years ago.

The primary purpose for publishing these letters is to spotlight hard-working professionals who deserve public recognition. But these letters are more than that – they are blueprints for parents, teachers, and administrators who are often unsure about the role of the specialized professionals who work with our blind kids.

If you know a teacher, O&M instructor, Braille transcriber, teacher’s aide, etc. who deserves a public “thank you,” please send your Teacher Recognition Nomination Letter (with, if available, a photo of the teacher and/or the student) to Future Reflections, 1800 Johnson Street, Baltimore, MD 21230. You may also send it by e-mail to <BCheadle@nfb.org>. Be sure to include the name and address of the sender, the teacher’s name, the student’s name, the name of the school district, and specific details about why this professional deserves national recognition. The letters should be no less than one typed page, and may be up to three pages. If your letter is published, we will send you extra copies of the issue free of charge at your request.

School: St. John’s Lane Elementary and Dunloggin Middle School, Ellicott City, Maryland.

I am writing to commend the dedication and fine work of Karen DeFeo, the Braille instructor who has been working with my daughter, Amy, for the past four years. Karen started working with Amy during fifth grade at St. John’s Lane Elementary School and continued with her through Dunloggin Middle School.

The transition from elementary school to middle school was trying for both Amy and Karen. Many of the students and all of the teachers were new to Amy. In elementary school students have one primary teacher each year. The teacher of the visually impaired can spend one or two hours per day at the student’s school and communicate with the primary teacher each day. In middle school, there are seven or eight teachers to communicate with in the same amount of time. Karen has excellent communication skills to work with a variety of teachers. After the first two to three months of sixth grade, Amy, Karen, and the sixth grade teachers developed a very good relationship.

Karen has transcribed more than 2,000 Braille pages per year for the past two years. Many times she took work home in the evenings so Amy had Braille handouts at the same time her sighted peers received their handouts.

There were many times over the past four years when I had concerns with Amy’s personal life, such as personal hygiene, posture, and social skills. Karen was always there to listen, offer suggestions, and even help by putting some goals on her IEP to work on these issues. Karen was also available in the evenings to talk, which meant a lot to me as a single working mother.

Karen has a strong knowledge of Braille and she is totally committed to providing accurate Braille materials. Karen participates in various statewide committees where she promotes the use of Braille. I hope she will receive your continued support to participate in these committees.

Amy has built a strong foundation in Braille skills due to Karen’s efforts. Karen was open to adding items to the IEP that I felt were important, such as using the computer for e-mail and Internet access. These items may not be part of the school curriculum, but they are helpful tools for all students to know.

I would like to let you know I greatly appreciate all the hard work, the dedication, and the friendship Karen has given to Amy and me over the past four years.

The National Federation of the Blind will recognize an outstanding teacher of blind children at our 2002 convention July 3 to July 9, in Louisville, Kentucky. The winner of this award will receive an expense-paid trip to the convention, a check for $500, an appropriate plaque, and an opportunity to make a presentation about the education of blind children to the National Organization of Parents of Blind Children early in the convention.

Anyone who is currently teaching or counseling blind students or administering a program for blind children is eligible to receive this award. It is not necessary to be a member of the National Federation of the Blind to apply. However, the winner must attend the National Convention. Colleagues, supervisors, or friends may nominate teachers or other eligible individuals. The letter of nomination should explain why the teacher is being recommended for this award.

The education of blind children is one of our most important concerns. Attendance at a National Federation of the Blind convention will enrich a teacher’s experience by affording him or her the opportunity to meet other teachers who work with blind children, to meet parents, and to meet blind adults who have had experiences in a variety of educational programs. Help us recognize a distinguished teacher by distributing this form and encouraging teachers to submit their credentials. We are pleased to offer this award and look forward to applications from many well-qualified educators.

1. A letter of nomination from someone (parent, co-worker, supervisor, etc.) who knows your work;

2. A letter of recommendation from someone who knows you professionally and knows your philosophy of teaching; and

3. A letter from you discussing your beliefs and approach to teaching blind students. In your letter you may wish to discuss topics such as the following:

4. What are your views about when and how students should use Braille, large print, tape recordings, readers, magnification devices, computers, electronic note-takers, and other technology?

6. When do you recommend that your students begin instruction in the use of a slate and stylus, a Braille writer?

7. How do you determine which students should learn cane travel (and when) and which should not?

Distinguished Educator of Blind Children Award
2002 Application
Deadline: May 15, 2002

Name:

Home address:

City: State: Zip:

Phone: (H) (W)

E-mail:

School:

Address:

City: State: Zip:

* List your degrees, the institutions from which they were received, and your major area or areas of study.

* Describe your current caseload, i.e. number of students, ages, multiple disabilities, number of Braille reading students, etc.

Attach the three required letters to this application
and send all material by May 15, 2002, to:

by Paige Parrish, Parent, Tyler, Texas
and Jean Robinson, Family Specialist, TSBVI, VI Outreach

Reprinted from See/Hear, Volume 6, Number 3, a joint publication of the Texas School for the Blind and Visually Impaired and the Texas Commission for the Blind.

Paige, mother of Alexandria (Alex), has been gracious enough to share her experiences raising a child with blindness. Alex who is almost 9 years of age is losing what vision she has due to Leber’s Congenital Amaurosis. Her mom has been diligent and creative about teaching her those concepts that sighted folks take for granted.

Alex, who attends Andy Woods Elementary School in the Tyler I.S.D., had been reading about different kinds of animals along with her classmates. Paige knew that even though Alex was acing the tests she didn’t really have the big picture. This savvy mom called the Caldwell Zoo in Tyler to request a “hands on” tour. When the public relations director discouraged her, Paige persisted. Eventually the owner not only agreed to the tour, but personally showed Alex around the zoo. He asked that they come in the morning, before the zoo opened to the public, when the animals were just waking up and still in their private areas.

Alex, her mom, and vision teacher were able to feel the ear and horn of a rhino with the help of the animal trainer. Alex explored a giraffe and trailed along its tall neck! Her face lit up when she connected the words that she previously had read to the real thing! This “aha moment” brought tears to the owner’s eyes.

This experience led to another opportunity. Alex’s unique way of learning made a profound impact on the veterinarian for exotic animals. He plans to contact Paige the next time they have to anesthetize a large animal; Alex hopes it will be an elephant!

Once again, Paige has paved the way for Alex to have the same opportunities as her classmates, by encouraging her to enter a local essay‑writing contest. The Kimberly-Clark Company, in conjunction with Brookshire Brothers grocery store, sponsored the contest. The theme was “My Favorite Teacher.” Alex entered and won! One winner was chosen from each grade level for the entire district. She selected her teacher of the visually impaired as the subject. Here is Alex’s essay:

My favorite teacher is Mrs. Elsie Rao. She is my visually impaired teacher. I think that she should be selected as Brookshire’s favorite teacher because she works very hard to teach me other ways to read, write, and do math. But she is so much more than that.

She helps me learn that my vision loss will not stop me from becoming a successful person. She believes in me even when I do not, and she has a very special way of describing the world to me.

Once, I asked her why some cars did not have roofs? She said, “They are called convertibles.” She just happened to own one, so she let me feel the roof go down. She said, “You really can not understand this unless you ride with the wind blowing through your hair. [Editor’s note: Of course they took a ride!]

My mom says that Mrs. Rao always starts with a firm foundation. I really did not understand this until I asked Mrs. Rao what concrete was. She went out and bought a bag of concrete for us to make just so I could understand.

She has a big impact on my life and she also lets me teach her about being blind so together we keep on learning.

Paige reminded me that these success stories would not be possible without the support of their local school district. Connie Moore, the principal of Andy Woods Elementary, believes in “teachable moments” and understands the importance of release time for her vision teacher.

Paige believes that Alex is exposed to the expanded core curriculum because Mrs. Rao not only answers Alex’s many questions, but involves her in finding the answer. If at all possible, Alex hears about it, reads about it, and does it.

This approach pays off, the first place prize for her essay was a $1,500 gift certificate from Circuit City.

Reprinted from VIPS News 17/3, May/June 2001, a publication of the VIPS Program in Louisville, Kentucky.

Editor’s Note: This was the second article in a two-part series published by VIPS in the Spring of 2001. In the first article, Ms. Connolly discussed the importance of understanding spatial relationships, of developing cognitive concepts, and of tactile discrimination. In this part, she expands upon other important pre‑Braille experiences.

Important number concepts and patterns include few/many; some/none; more/less; pair; zero; all; one-to‑one correspondence; first/second/third; last; and counting to ten.

Play with objects in a six‑muffin tin. Find and take out one or two. Guide the child’s hand to learn how to use one hand as a placeholder and the other hand to place an object in the hole. This reinforces one-to‑one correspondence when one object is put into each hole. This will help the child imitate patterns later on.

Large pegboard play is great for beginning number relationships. Let the child play creatively and later introduce number concepts. Older infants and young toddlers will enjoy positioning large pegs and blocks to create things.

Older toddlers may be ready to imitate patterns of pegs on a board or large shaped beads on a string. Create rows of tape or Velcro strips with blocks or shapes. Again, as with sorting and matching games, begin with two and increase to three or four.

Practice doing movements with words to describe them. Also, talk to the child about what he/she is doing so the words have meaning at natural times of the day. Important movement concepts include go; start/stop; fast/slow; push/pull; scribble; draw; trace; bend; open/close; slide; roll; hold; insert/place/put; reach; sit; squeeze; turn; and follow.

Good head control and independent sitting are important to read Braille with ease. Reaching for an object based on sound or visual cues or on command is also important.

Guide the child to develop a systematic approach to searching for an object within reach to develop good skills for later exploration of pages and manipulation of books.

Fine motor skills that are important for eventual reading include grasp/release; twist/turn; rotate and examine; open/close; stack; nest, etc. Busy boxes and nesting or stacking toys are good for developing these skills.

Further refinement in motor skills can be encouraged by putting objects into and taking them out of containers of all sizes and by playing with manipulatives, such as finger foods in containers; shape sorters; pop beads; linking chains; large pegs; form boards and simple puzzles; and blocks. Important skills for dexterity include pincer grasp; poke/probe objects, spreading/wriggling fingers; pointing; isolating each finger, relaxed curving of fingers; wrist flexibility; and tracking a raised line by touch.

Babies are like sponges – they absorb information. Use words to name and request and eventually the baby will, too. Guide infants and toddlers to use words to name and request, and to follow simple directions. Help them listen to a short story with objects as props and to explore tactual books and turn pages.

1. Encourage “scribbling.” It’s fun and important. Allow toddlers to “scribble” with a Braillewriter or slate and stylus (with supervision). Plastic sheets from bacon packages, when thoroughly washed, work great for Braille.

2. Share with your toddler what you are writing – grocery lists, notes to friends, etc.

3. Braille notes for toddlers to take to family members and have them read aloud.

4. Leave Braille “love notes” under the toddler’s pillow or in his lunch box; include print so anyone can help the child read it.

5. Take the toddler’s hand to experience Braille in the community on signs, elevators, and Braille menus. Remember, sighted infants have been seeing print in their world from a very early age.

6. Get a Braille labeler or a slate with slits for dymotape for labeling. Label the child’s belongings with his name (diaper bag, cup, lunch box, snacks, etc.) Label areas of the home, familiar objects, and toys with Braille. Label the numbers on a toy telephone or animal names on a See’N Say, for example.

7. Create a box or bag with items associated with a familiar routine. Write a story on an index card about taking a bath, visiting Grandma, or going to a restaurant. Include objects associated with that experience – a story in a box or bag!

8. Clap and bounce with rhymes, finger plays, and songs; pause before the last word of a familiar rhyme to let the child anticipate and fill it in.

9. Keep textured books, cloth and cardboard books, Braille books, and sound books available for your child on a low shelf where she can find them herself.

10. Go to the library for story hour to hear richly read stories. There are usually hands‑on activities associated with these.

11. Practice turning pages together. Reinforce this by slipping treats, leaves, or pieces of fabric to find between the pages.

13. Make books meaningful by gluing an object on the front to match the story, or tie an object on it with a ribbon.

15. Roll a car or rolling toy on a table from left to right with one or both hands.

16. Play at following the track with wooden sticks, sandpaper strips, lines of glue, and Brailled materials (with and without spaces).

17. Glue objects to a strip and have the child move from left to right to discover and talk about each.

18. Place objects in a 12‑muffin tin; have the child identify the objects, moving from left to right across each row.

Braille is a system of symbolic representation of real objects and experiences, just as print is for the sighted reader. Infants and toddlers learn best at a concrete, hands‑on level. Touching experiences with objects and people are critical. Begin by describing what he is doing when he is playing with a toy: “Tyrone is banging blocks.” Talk out loud about what you are doing, too.

The next step is to use an object as a reminder or to prepare for a transition in activity, such as a key to go for a car ride. For example, let the baby hold the keys as you prepare to leave (and only at that time). The next step is to use the same or similar objects to talk about a past or future experience. This way, you see, it becomes a symbol.

Then make a book with object symbols to tell a pretend story about someone else. At this time, add a raised drawing to represent the object and match it, as well as a Braille label next to it. Then the connection can be made between the real object and the Braille word. Sighted children go through a similar progression with pictures as symbolic representations.

Match real objects to things that go together or outlines of them. Trace familiar, real objects to make puzzles out of them.

Editor’s Note: The following story was first published in the Observer, a publication of the NFB of Montana, and later reprinted in the Braille Monitor. Carolyn Brock is a teacher and an active member of the NFB. Here is her delightful report of her visit to the home of Louis Braille:

I had read Kenneth Jernigan’s article published in the July 1994, issue of the Braille Monitor, discussing the NFB’s financial contribution to the restoration of the Braille home in Coupvray, France, just east of Paris. The article also included a detailed description of the homesite itself. While planning a two-month stay in France last summer, my husband and I decided that a visit to the Braille home would be a worthwhile excursion.

On a previous trip to France in 1991, I had visited several centers for the blind, both in Paris and in Burgundy. Everywhere I was impressed with the pride that blind French people feel in the work of Louis Braille; at each center I was repeatedly reminded that Braille was originally a French system. This summer I learned that sighted French people share that same pride. Several days before the planned trip to Coupvray, we visited the Pantheon, the huge domed memorial to great French citizens in all fields of endeavor. Almost as soon as we walked in the door (I carrying my white cane), we were approached by a museum administrator who explained to me again how proud the French are of Louis Braille and directed us to his memorial site. I was given the English language version of a small book about Braille and the village of Coupvray.

The visit to Coupvray lived up to our expectations. It is only a mile or two from Euro-Disney and has only recently been surrounded by the sprawling metropolitan suburbs. But Coupvray itself retains its country village flavor. The old part of the village is very much as it must have been in 1769, when Louis Braille’s grandfather built the original house. Like most village houses of the time, it was a single room with a niche for the parents’ bed built into an outer wall. In the next generation Louis Braille’s father, a saddle-maker who also owned vineyards, was successful enough to build an adjoining workshop accessed by leaving the living quarters and walking around the outside of the house to the workshop entrance. Over the years the Brailles had the money to add an upstairs bedroom each time a child was born, with two different stairways leading up from the two sides of the house. To this day the house is on the edge of the village, with a rutted road, navigable only by a 4-by-4 vehicle, leading off into the woods just behind the house.

Into this family, very affluent for villagers of the time, Louis Braille was born in 1809, the last of four children. He was blinded at age three in an accident with his father’s work tools. When he was fifteen, his family sent him to the School for the Young Blind in Paris, an expense which no ordinary village family would have been able to afford.

At school in Paris young Louis was an outstanding student. He was taught the system of tactile writing being used at the time, which used conventional letter shapes. This embossing system had been developed by Valentin Haüy (who standardized the use of the white cane in Europe, and after whom the largest center for the blind in France is named). The disadvantage of the system was that there was no way for an ordinary blind person to write it. Young Louis also saw an experimental system, using raised dots instead of letters, developed by a French army officer, to communicate with his men at night. Not only was the raised-dot system easier for a blind person to read; it could also be written with very little special equipment. Louis Braille went to work refining the system. The result was the French version of Grade I Braille, with a symbol for each letter of the alphabet and the basic punctuation marks.

After becoming the first blind teacher at the school, Braille set to work teaching his pupils this new system of reading and writing. The result could have been predicted by anyone familiar with the story of Braille in modern times. The blind students loved the Braille system and used it to take notes and to write to each other. The other teachers at the school, all of them sighted, were totally opposed since they could not read it. But Louis Braille continued to teach the system, and by 1840 the French Ministry of Education had little choice but to accept it as the standard method of writing for the blind. It has since been modified for use in virtually all of the world’s major languages and contracted into Grade II versions to fit each one.

The Braille house in Coupvray is a monument to this remarkable chain of events. The living room of the house is still sparsely furnished, much as it was in the early nineteenth century. In the huge fireplace hang cooking pots used at the time. Next to the fireplace, in a child-sized chair, sits a life-sized doll of a little boy, Louis Braille at age four or five, dressed in the clothing of the period.

Next door in Simon Braille’s saddle-making workshop are the crude wooden workbench, table, and chairs, much as they must have been during Louis Braille’s childhood. Display cases contain collections of the saddle-making craft.

Climbing either set of stairs, one arrives at a landing, where the wall has been knocked out, uniting the two staircases and thus the two halves of the house. On the landing stands a life-size girl doll, one of the Braille sisters, also dressed in authentic clothing. She indicates the way to Louis Braille’s room, which now houses the rest of the museum. An attic room, still farther up, is yet to be completed.

It is in Louis Braille’s room that a visitor gets a sense of the magnitude of Braille’s accomplishment. Here are displays of the early equipment used to write Braille, primitive ancestors of our interpoint embossers and refreshable computer screens. But the most moving tribute to Louis Braille comes from the testimonials to him which are displayed throughout the room. There are cards and letters from all over the world, many of them bearing stamps commemorating the work of Louis Braille. Over and over, in many languages, they tell the stories of blind people whose lives were enriched and transformed by the work of this one person. It is a fitting monument to a man who over a century ago began changing what it means to be blind.

Reprinted under the title “Problem Solving” from the Spring, 2001, issue of Parents’ Writes, the newsletter of the Kentucky Parents of Blind Children, a Division of the NFB of Kentucky.

Editor’s Note: If you have a partially-sighted child or student, I think you will find the following article about using a low vision device delightfully practical and non-sentimental. Edith Ethridge is clearly one expert who understands that visual aids or solutions are not the answer to every problem encountered by a person with low vision. Her advice is sensible and well-grounded in an understanding of the importance of efficiency and effectiveness when making choices about low vision devices or techniques. In a field that is notorious for pushing the use of vision to the point of inefficiency and discomfort, Mrs. Ethridge offers a positive approach to making decisions about low vision devices. Here is what she has to say:

Our 12-year-old son will not use his monocular at school when needed. He attends half-day at the Kentucky School for the Blind and the other half-day in the public school. He admits while attending public school that instead of using the monocular, he will ask someone sitting next to him to tell him what he needs to write down. He has told us that the other students think his monocular is cool, but still he worries about ridicule from the other students. As a self-advocacy skill, we know he needs to overcome this, but we’re running out of ideas. Would love to hear any suggestions!

Reluctance to use monoculars may be due to a variety of factors. Consider some of these questions:

Is the child aware that other people use monoculars and binoculars for a variety of recreation and career activities?

Be sure the monocular improves vision enough to make a significant difference. If just moving a few feet closer can provide the same amount of improvement, most children will just want to move toward the activity. The monocular restricts the field of view and some kids don’t want to miss out on other visual interests.

Be aware that the type of visual condition may affect the benefit of the monocular. Central vision loss may make using it more difficult.

Be sure the child has had appropriate instructions in how to spot, focus, scan, and track using the device.

Prove the difference. Have the child use unaided vision for a task and then try the same task using the monocular. Let him prove to himself just what it can do and the differences in detail that can be observed.

Model it. Use binoculars and monoculars with your child. Create an environment where classmates and playmates use the same or similar devices for fun activities. Have toy binoculars available near the window or door for preschoolers and younger children.

Provide evidence that other people use vision devices for recreation and in their careers. Keep a scrapbook of pictures of vision devices being used and discuss them. Highlight pictures of surgeons, jewelers, and people at sporting events such as the racetrack, football games, and baseball games using vision devices. Look in advertisements for pictures of the monoculars used by golfers, and binoculars used by bird watchers.

Take the monocular and binoculars on family outings and trips. Use it with your child, have other family members use it, too. Keep a journal of time that it is used. Use stickers on a chart or other rewards to show just how many occasions you have used it.

Attend High Vision Games where other children are using monoculars. Find an older child who is a successful monocular user to act as a mentor and describe how useful it is in mobility.

Have realistic expectations. Remember that the monocular is just one device used to increase distant vision acuity for short tasks. It would be difficult to watch a movie using a monocular, try it! Although the monocular may not be an equalizer for all demands on distant vision, it is portable, relatively inexpensive, and doesn’t require batteries!

Nathan and Lydiah Schuck, with daughters May and Amy, take a break in the Children’s Room while touring the National Center for the Blind, headquarters of the National Federation of the Blind, Baltimore, Maryland.

Reprinted from the April 2000, Michigan Focus, a publication of the NFB of Michigan.

I have been helping my four‑year‑old daughter with her cane for a year now, but I’d never really tried to get around with a cane myself. The Michigan Parents of Blind Children seminar in November was my first chance for a mobility lesson.

I got started late, so I joined a group already in progress on their lesson. I slipped on the sleepshades (blindfolds) and Geer Wilcox directed my first steps – onto an escalator! I think starting late was a mistake. I should at least have walked down a hallway with the aid of the cane before I tried that escalator. But to Geer’s credit, I made a successful trip down to the hotel lobby.

What an amazing feeling! Getting off the escalator and, later, getting off the elevator, felt like ... well, have you ever been roller skating? Can you recall the way your feet feel like they are still moving, even when you are done skating? I think there must be something about this that is similar in my brain, because I felt like my feet were still moving as I stepped off the escalator.

As my travel lesson went on, I left Geer and went on with the help of Adam Emerson. Adam has a great teaching style and a wonderful comforting voice. [Editor’s note: Adam is the blind son of Sunny Emerson, a former officer in the National Organization of Parents of Blind Children. Now, about a decade later, her son has become a role model for other parents!] Adam helped me to locate a phone booth. I called my husband to tell him what I was doing, and his response was, “Did you tell me about this meeting? How come I never know about these things? I’d like a cane lesson, too.” So, I guess he’ll be at the next parent seminar.

We went up in the elevator. Adam told the other people in the elevator to let me find the numbers myself. We went down to the basement and up several floors before I found the Braille number seven, and I was a bit embarrassed. I realized pretty quickly that it didn’t matter.

It’s not like a subway where if I missed my stop, I’d be in the next county or something. We eventually got to the seventh floor.

It will still take me a few trips to believe my cane when it tells me that, yes, there is solid floor outside the open door of the elevator. It was a surprise to me to realize how much I rely on my eyes to step out of an elevator. I was afraid to get out at first.

We proceeded to the high point of my mobility lesson: taking a walk with Anna, my daughter, who was playing in the child care room. She was delighted that I appeared at the door with my cane. She dragged me down the hallway, quite a switch from the usual parent‑pulling, dawdling-child scenario. Adam took us down the hall and into a stairwell where we went up and down some steps. Anna had to climb the railings, too. Listening to all this activity gave me a new appreciation for blind parents. I would certainly need to learn some new ways of monitoring my children’s activities if I were blind.

We went back to the child care room, left Anna there, and then went to explore the pool area. It’s a strangely‑shaped pool, Adam told me, and I believe him because it kept popping up in the most unexpected places. The pool area was a bit of a sensory overload for me. There were voices near and further away, the smell of chlorine, the repeated bang of my cane against the deck chairs, echoes, and the continuing sense that I was about to drop over the edge. But I never did!

As we moved around the hotel lobby, hallways, stairwell, and pool area, I began to notice how the sound of the room could give me an idea of its dimensions. I could hear the open lobby below me as I went up and down the escalator. Some places just sounded smaller. I started to notice the wall in front of me, or the coke machine I passed by.

Near the end of my walk, I became careless, not trying so hard. I thought, “If I can just get back to the second floor, I can take off these sleepshades.” So at the very end of my walk, though I gained a new appreciation for the cane as a tool, I still wanted to be back in my comfort zone. For my child, mobility with a cane is her comfort zone. It was a delight to be able to have a visit in her world.

Editor’s Note: The following story first appeared in the 1998 NFB Kernel Book Gray Pancakes and Gold Horses, and was later reprinted in the Braille Monitor. The Kernel Books are a series of paperback books featuring stories by, and about, blind people. The purpose of the books is to educate the general public about blindness and the normality of blind people. The books are available in print, Braille, and cassette tape for a nominal charge from the NFB Materials Center, 1800 Johnson Street, Baltimore, Maryland 21230, (410) 659-9314. Since Tonia wrote this piece, she has married Gregg Trapp, an attorney in New Mexico. Here is the story:

I remember how surprised I was when, during my eighth grade year, a fellow student in my Spanish class approached me and said admiringly, “Hey, I was doing some research, and I found a picture of you in National Geographic World magazine. I didn’t know you used to do gymnastics!” My mom has collected all the newspaper articles about me since I was three years old; they are tangible proof that being blind, let alone a blind gymnast, is a big deal to the rest of the world. But it was not the numerous articles, the swell of being notorious, the people who said, “You’ve inspired me so much,” or the medals and ribbons that I loved so dearly: it was being a gymnast.

Mr. Roltsch was the coach who agreed to take me into his gym and teach me gymnastics when I was seven or eight years old. “I had never taught a blind gymnast before,” he told me later, “so I was hesitant and a bit skeptical when your Mom called me and asked me to teach you. But, when your Mom brought you over, and I took you down into the gym to test you out, I decided it was worth the challenge to take you on as a pupil.” He had a deep, powerful voice that I was drawn to because it said, “I expect 100 percent grit from you, and if you don’t give it to me, I will be disappointed.” At the same time his voice was gentle and reassuring. He never hesitated to correct me, and he had a not-so-subtle way of telling me when he knew I was cheating him out of valuable time by slacking off. I rejoiced at every compliment I got from him, for he gave them only when my performance was nearly perfect enough to merit them.

Mr. Roltsch was a demanding coach and a darn good one. Those of us on the team who appreciated gymnastics as both a sport and an art, just as Mr. Roltsch did, gave him every ounce of strength and determination that we had, and he, in the course of a few years, transformed us from hesitant, clumsy little marionettes into gymnasts.

The Roltsches’ gym was built into their basement, and to get to it, you had to walk down a steep, spiraling sidewalk that curled around the house and led straight to the door of the upper deck of the gym. Up there we all pulled off our sweat suits and socks, tossed our shoes against the wall, and scampered down the thirteen planked stairs onto the floor mats below. The gym had its own smell, which I came to associate automatically with the sweat of grueling workouts and the sweet, paralyzing exhaustion that always accompanied them.

I quickly became addicted to the anesthetic effect of the draining workouts, so much so that whenever I entered the gym, even before I had stripped down to my leotard, I could feel tender, invisible fingers gently massaging and stretching my muscles in preparation for the next two hours of leap, tumble, and swing.

My first victory in gymnastics came when I turned my first cartwheel. Someone had tried to show me what a cartwheel looked like by using a Barbie doll, but I could not understand. In my eight-year-old mind, I was a little girl, not a doll, and I was not able to imagine my body manipulating itself the way the doll moved in the hands of my coach. For weeks, maybe even months, I tried mechanically to turn a cartwheel, putting down slowly first one hand, then the other hand, then one foot, then the other foot. I felt like a long-limbed gorilla slapping the mat with my hands and clumping with my feet as I tried