_______________________________________________________________________________
Vol. 51, No. 2 February 2008
Barbara Pierce, editor
Published in inkprint, in Braille, and on cassette by
The National Federation of the Blind
Marc Maurer, president
National Office
1800 Johnson Street
Baltimore, Maryland 21230
telephone: (410) 659-9314
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THE NATIONAL FEDERATION OF THE BLIND IS NOT AN ORGANIZATION
SPEAKING FOR THE BLIND--IT IS THE BLIND SPEAKING FOR THEMSELVES
ISSN 0006-8829
Vol. 51, No. 2 February 2008
Dallas Site of 2008 NFB Convention
Lead Photos
Introduction to the Dare to Be Remarkable Conference
by Daniel B. Frye
Diplomacy, Reality, and the Organized Blind Movement
The Elements of Rehabilitation
by Marc Maurer
Independence and Expectations
by Fredric K. Schroeder
Leading and Managing Change in Public Vocational Rehabilitation
by Deana Graham
Making Things Pono in Hawaii: Changes at Ho`opono
by Lea Grupen
Structured Discovery in the Classroom
by Edward Bell
A Governing Philosophy
Strategies for Implementing a Progressive Approach in a
Center-Based Environment
by Shawn Mayo, Pam Allen, and Julie Deden
My Path: My Perspective
by Rosy Carranza
A Summary of Essential Blindness Philosophy in Residential Rehabilitation Training
by James H. Omvig and Joanne Wilson
The 70 Percent Solution
Employment Preparation in a Center Environment
by Dick Davis
Medical Issues and Special Populations
Providing Training to Students with Mental Health Issues
by Mary Ann Goodwyn
Understanding Brain Injury
by Duncan Larsen
Innovative Employment Outcomes
The Real Results of Effective Residential Rehabilitation
by Stacy Cervenka and Nicolas Crisosto
Messages to Take Away: Final Reflections on Residential Rehabilitation
by Allen C. Harris
Recipes
Monitor Miniatures
Copyright 2008 National Federation of the Blind
The 2008 convention of the National Federation of the Blind will take place in Dallas, Texas, June 29-July 5, at the Hilton Anatole Hotel at 2201 Stemmons Freeway, Dallas, Texas 75207. Make your room reservation as soon as possible with the Hilton Anatole staff only. Call (214) 761-7500.
The 2008 room rates are singles, doubles, and twins $61 and triples and quads $66 a night, plus a 15 percent sales tax. The hotel is accepting reservations now. A $60-per-room deposit is required to make a reservation. Fifty percent of the deposit will be refunded if notice is given to the hotel of a reservation cancellation before June 1, 2008. The other 50 percent is not refundable.
Rooms will be available on a first-come, first-served basis. Reservations may be made before June 1, 2008, assuming that rooms are still available. After that time the hotel will not hold our block of rooms for the convention. In other words, you should get your reservation in soon.
Guestroom amenities include cable television, coffee pot, iron and ironing board, hair dryer, and for a charge high-speed Internet access. The Hilton Anatole has six excellent restaurants, twenty-four-hour-a-day room service, first-rate meeting space, and other top-notch facilities. It is in downtown Dallas with shuttle service to both the Dallas/Ft. Worth Airport and Love Field.
The schedule for the 2008 convention will depart from what many think of as our usual schedule:
Sunday, June 29 Seminar Day
Monday, June 30 Registration Day
Tuesday, July 1 Board Meeting and Division Day
Wednesday, July 2 March for Independence and Opening Session
Thursday, July 3 Tour Day
Friday, July 4 Banquet Day
Saturday, July 5 Business Session
The “Dare to Be Remarkable” residential rehabilitation conference was held at the National Center for the Blind from Wednesday, December 5, to Friday, December 7, 2007. Over one hundred and fifty professionals gathered to discuss a wide range of issues involved in operating residential rehabilitation centers for the blind, but the conference was not all work. Luncheons and a reception were also part of the program.
1. The NFB of Utah auditorium in the Jernigan Institute was filled to capacity
when Joanne Wilson, executive director of affiliate action, called the Dare
to Be Remarkable conference to order.
2. Conference delegates are pictured here assembled for the Thursday luncheon.
Festive holiday decorations can be seen.
3. Chad Allen, one of the luncheon speakers and a Federation leader from California,
performs magic tricks with a wooden box at the illusions reception on Wednesday
evening.
Conference participants socialize at the Illusions reception on Wednesday evening.
Pictured left to right are Pat Byrnes, Lorinda Riddle, Richard Davis, Shawn
Mayo, Jeffrey Thompson, and Zacharia Ellingson.
Note from the President: I have asked Dan Frye to do much of the editing
for this issue of the Monitor under the direction of Barbara Pierce.
During the past few months Dan has written a number of pieces for the Monitor
and edited others. Most of the time he serves as a manager of programs in the
affiliate action department, where he played a significant role in planning
the conference reported about in this issue. He is an effective writer, and
he likes to express interesting concepts involving the Federation. I will undoubtedly
call upon him from time to time to do further writing for the Monitor.
Because he has been responsible for much of the editorial work in this issue,
his name appears frequently.
by Daniel B. Frye
“Dare to Be Remarkable” was the title and theme of the national conference for
residential rehabilitation training centers for the blind held at the National
Center for the Blind from Wednesday, December 5, to Friday, December 7, 2007.
Jointly sponsored by the National Federation of the Blind and the National Council
of State Agencies for the Blind (NCSAB), this training event featured two and
a half days of instruction in a wide array of topics in both plenary sessions
and interactive, concurrent workshops of particular interest to administrators
and teachers working at residential rehabilitation training centers for the
blind across the country.
Over one hundred and fifty professionals working in the field of blindness rehabilitation and education from thirty-two states attended the conference. They represented twenty state rehabilitation agencies, ten private rehabilitation organizations, five residential schools for the blind, and one university.
The idea of holding a training conference catering to the unique programmatic needs of staff members in residential rehabilitation centers for the blind was first conceived in 2002 under the leadership of then Rehabilitation Services Administration (RSA) Commissioner Joanne Wilson. Two such conferences were subsequently held in Albuquerque, New Mexico, and Nashville, Tennessee, in 2002 and 2004. Since then, however, the commitment of influential RSA leaders has waned. They have abandoned even the most modest pretense of supporting the quality delivery of categorical rehabilitation services to blind recipients, as manifested by RSA’s decision to close all ten of its regional offices; dismantle the Office for the Blind; abdicate its ethical (if not statutory) obligation to preserve and promote the priority of the Randolph-Sheppard vending program for the blind in military dining and general program maintenance; and wage an unofficial war of morale and opportunity against existing and would-be agency employees—particularly blind professionals—who understand, appreciate, and champion the value of targeted disability-specific rehabilitation services. In light of the inhospitable climate currently prevailing at the RSA for blindness-specific rehabilitation initiatives, NFB and NCSAB leaders determined to convene a third national training conference for staff of residential rehabilitation centers for the blind. By all accounts this third national conference compared favorably with its predecessors in size, program, and participation.
During the three plenary conference sessions, participants heard from sixteen presenters. Notable among these presentations were addresses by NFB President Marc Maurer; Dr. Fredric Schroeder, research professor at San Diego State University and former RSA commissioner; Ed Kunz, Dr. Deana Graham, and Lea Grupen, managers at the Criss Cole Rehabilitation Center in Austin, Texas, and Ho`opono Services for the Blind in Honolulu, Hawaii; the executive directors of the NFB-operated residential training centers for the blind in Louisiana, Colorado, and Minnesota; Dr. Edward Bell, director of the Professional Development and Research Institute on Blindness at Louisiana Tech University; five graduates of state and privately administered residential rehabilitation centers for the blind; and Allen Harris, executive director of the Iowa Department for the Blind.
An innovative programming feature of this conference was the facilitation of seven different discipline-specific breakout meetings for managers and administrators of residential rehabilitation centers and for teachers of Braille, adaptive technology, orientation and mobility, home management and independent living, industrial arts, and employment and career counseling. During these discipline-specific sessions, those working in common professions were able to share ideas and strategies for enhancing their teaching or management duties. The concurrent afternoon sessions addressed employment preparation in a center-based environment, legal affairs and consumer empowerment, blindness philosophy, research issues, transition and follow-up matters, teaching strategies, challenge activities and self-confidence discussions, personnel development and training, special populations and medical issues, and approaches to operating summer programs for blind youth. Finally, the Dare to Be Remarkable conference included two formal luncheons with keynote speakers and an evening reception encouraging informal networking among participants.
This edition of the Braille Monitor reprints the principal addresses delivered during the plenary sessions of the conference and highlights selected breakout session topics of special interest. Space limitations prohibit our including every presentation offered during the conference, but what follows will give Braille Monitor readers a sense of the spirit and flavor of this early December assembly.
It is significant that the National Federation of the Blind, the nation’s oldest and largest consumer organization of the blind, and leaders of the National Council of State Agencies for the Blind, the recognized organization of rehabilitation professionals specially committed to serving blind people, have over the last decade or so forged a partnership. This shift in the historical pattern of professional and consumer relationship promises to be of tremendous benefit to all blind people in America and may in time revolutionize opportunities for our community. It is heartening to observe the dawning of a day when both consumers and professionals are coming to realize that our mutual efforts may yield untapped hope and levels of independence for blind people everywhere. Focusing, then, on the development of this partnership in general and the topic of rehabilitation in particular, in this special edition of the Braille Monitor seems appropriate and timely.
by Marc Maurer
From Dan Frye: President Maurer delivered the opening address at the
Dare to Be Remarkable residential rehabilitation conference held at the National
Center for the Blind from December 5 to 7, 2007. In addition to providing a
historical context for the development of the rehabilitation system in America,
his remarks offered a succinct perspective on the Federation’s views about the
essential elements of effective residential rehabilitation for blind consumers.
President Maurer proposed commonsense solutions and gave candid advice to the
assembled professionals. The text of his speech follows:
Sometimes, when I think of rehabilitation, my attitude becomes whimsical.
With this in mind, consider the following:
Rehab is our business;
Rehab is what we sell.
Rehab is our business,
The system we know so well.
All the students learn from us
Everything they should know,
How to get an education,
How to travel where they want to go.
The complications of legal rights,
The mysteries of different schools,
The federal/state rehab scheme,
The regulations and the rules.
How to compose resumés,
Create the documents to find work,
Teaching an integrated lifestyle,
Before your clients become berserk.
Rehab is our business;
Rehab is what we sell.
If rehabilitation is noncomplicated—simple and easy to perform—why is there
not uniformity of result throughout the nation? Why does the system seem to
work better in some places than in others? Are the clients different from locality
to locality? If the clients are much the same, the rehabilitation programs must
be different.
According to the dictionary, rehabilitation was known in the English language as early as 1533. The rehabilitation of that time denominated an act of the king or the pope to restore legal or ecclesiastical rights to a person who had lost them. The restoration of an individual to a previous condition of value, of prominence, or of authority was contemplated by the term. In this sense rehabilitation is a concept still used in the law today.
Rehabilitation of the kind we are discussing today, finding a method of training or instruction adequate to permit individuals to employ their talents despite a severe disability, is a much more modern concept. The story is related that those who were injured and disabled during the Civil War were known as "the invalids." During World War I many, many soldiers were severely wounded and disabled. Something had to be done for them. The first United States Rehabilitation Act was adopted in 1920. The Smith-Fess Act, otherwise known as the Civilian Vocational Rehabilitation Act, was the first federal law to authorize rehabilitation efforts.
Blindness programs were first specified in rehabilitation law in 1943. Some of the writers on rehabilitation have stated that the early rehabilitation act did not emphasize blindness because it was thought that this disability was too severe for rehabilitation to take place. It was not possible to restore blind people to productivity, they thought. However, in a great many states, agencies for the blind had been created. These agencies attempted to perform rehabilitation. The Bardon-LaFollette Act of 1943 first authorized federal support for separate programs for the blind. Schools for the blind had been established beginning in the late 1820s, but often the students who graduated from them were unable to pursue higher education or to find employment. Furthermore, a number of people became blind after their school-age years. During the 1920s and 1930s the American Foundation for the Blind, founded in 1921, made a concerted effort to encourage states to adopt legislation establishing service programs for adult blind people.
In 1951 Dr. Jacobus tenBroek, then president of the National Federation of the Blind, worked with others in California to create the California Orientation Center for the Blind. Dr. Kenneth Jernigan, who became president of the National Federation of the Blind in 1968, joined the faculty of this center in 1953. It was the first program to attempt comprehensive orientation training that incorporated faculty members from the National Federation of the Blind and the principles of independence espoused by the Federation. The Carroll Center for the Blind in Massachusetts was creating a training program that taught mobility for the blind at about the same time, and it expanded services to include other orientation classes during the 1950s.
In 1955 Dr. tenBroek delivered an address to the American Association of Workers for the Blind in which he outlined theories behind the approach of the National Federation of the Blind to rehabilitation training. He expressed the view that rehabilitation training is based upon the constitutional right of freedom of expression, which necessarily implies freedom of movement. Dr. tenBroek's speech, entitled "The Pros and Cons of Preferential Treatment," outlines the thinking of the Federation with respect to the necessity for orientation training and the requirements to be expected of rehabilitation programs in providing it.
In 1958 Dr. Kenneth Jernigan, who had served his apprenticeship in the California Orientation Program from 1953 until that year, became the director of the Iowa Commission for the Blind. He quickly established an orientation program which became the most powerful of its kind. By 1968 Dr. Jernigan had received an award from United States President Lyndon Johnson for the excellence of his efforts in the state of Iowa.
I participated as a student in this program from June of 1969 until my departure for college at the University of Notre Dame in August of 1970. My memory of that year of training is that I learned so much so fast that it changed the direction of my life. As I reflect upon my own experience, I sometimes feel a bittersweet amusement at the comments of some of the blind people I have met based on my experience with orientation training. I spent a little more than a year in the program. I have no interest in doing it again. Some of the blind people I have met have told me that the rehabilitation programs in which they participated were excellent. They enjoyed them each of the several times they went through the classes. One blind person I met said that she had been rehabilitated seven times. I wondered when she would be finished. At the time I spoke with her, she was in her early forties.
To delineate the elements of residential rehabilitation training for the blind is fairly straightforward. To implement them satisfactorily is enormously difficult. Rehabilitation training for the blind requires a fundamental belief that blind people have ability—as much ability as anybody else. When rehabilitation personnel believe that the people they are teaching can achieve enormous potential, the expectations for blind clients go up, the effort poured into the program by the trainers increases, and the results improve.
The rehabilitation program will instill a demanding work ethic in the clients. It will teach the essentials for performing tasks using blindness techniques that would be performed with sight if the clients had it. It will train the clients to understand the nature of blindness—what the limitations of the condition are, what society expects of blind people, what is reasonable for blind people to achieve, what misunderstandings exist about blindness, and the way to address the social aspects of the subject. It will expect the clients to come to be able to manage their own lives—determining what kind of education they want, deciding what kind of livelihood they will seek, choosing the lifestyle that they want, and making other decisions for themselves. It will assist the clients to achieve the objectives chosen by the clients. It will recognize the necessity for the blind to offer something to society. Making a contribution to the society in which a person lives is a necessary part of achieving integration within it. It will help the clients to come to understand that they may not expect a livelihood without having something to trade for it—in other words, productivity is essential. It will take all other necessary steps to assist in creating a climate conducive to the integration of the blind on the basis of equality. This is the task of the rehabilitation program.
In my own case the teachers in the rehabilitation program that I attended expected me to begin each day at 5:30 a.m. with gym class that lasted an hour. Many blind people are encouraged to believe that gym class is not for them. I encountered this argument at the University of Notre Dame when I matriculated there. At the university my gym class commenced at 8:00 a.m. A strong temptation crossed my mind to accept the argument that blind students should be exempted. However, with proper rehabilitation I knew this argument to be an attempt to duck my responsibilities. If I wanted all the benefits the university could offer, I must be prepared to accept the responsibility for performing the duties demanded of all other students. Gym class was a requirement; I went.
When my gym class in the rehabilitation program had concluded at 6:30, I was free to clean up and dress for the day. I purchased breakfast from a blind vendor. By 8:00 a.m. I was expected to be ready to learn to travel with a cane. This class lasted until 10:00 a.m., when the period for wood and metal shop began. At noon I was free for lunch. Home economics commenced at 12:30; Braille began at 2:30; typing began at 3:30. At 4:30 we had a business or philosophy class. At 5:30 in the afternoon we were free to look for dinner or to engage in other activities. Sometimes evening activities occurred. In other words, the schedule was demanding—not to say intense. The blind vendor who sold breakfast and lunch had a vending facility in the rehabilitation agency. However, no facility was open for dinner. The objective (we were told) was to get us out of the building. We were expected to seek our supper at a restaurant in town not too far from the rehabilitation agency. By necessity we learned to travel the streets of the town with our canes because we were quite interested in getting something to eat.
During my period of rehabilitation I asked the shop instructor to teach me how to overhaul an automobile engine. Although this activity had not previously been a part of the program, he agreed. I was expected to provide the automobile. I had asked to overhaul the engine because I had heard the teachers saying that blind people could do almost anything that sighted people could do. I wondered if the teachers really meant it. I thought overhauling an automobile engine would be a challenge for them. They challenged me right back by demanding that I figure out a way to get an automobile. Though I did not know where to obtain one, I promised that I would get it.
Within a few days the shop teacher took me to a hardware store, where we bought thousands of dollars worth of tools that could be used to overhaul an engine. When they said they would help me, they meant it. I got the car, and they taught me how to rebuild its engine. It worked very well when I was finished. I was impressed by the experience because I loved automobiles. I was more impressed by the experience because I had asked the program to do a difficult thing, and it responded. From this I learned that the wishes of blind people are sometimes granted, and the desires of blind people to build interesting lives can have substance and meaning. In other words, this program taught me that my life mattered.
Our philosophy class, the one that began at 4:30 in the afternoon, concentrated on the subject of blindness. I remember the day that one of the teachers told me I should learn about this subject. I was seventeen at the time, and I had been blind all of my life. I thought to myself, "What in the world is there to know? I have dealt with this topic every single day for years." However, I had not dealt with it in an informed way.
This class was conducted by a senior staff member who had become acquainted
with a broad range of literature regarding blindness. Questions considered included
what blindness means, what blindness does not mean, what limitations are inherent
in blindness itself, what the misunderstanding of blindness can do to the thought
processes of a blind person, what might be expected from a blind person, what
misconceptions exist within society about blindness, how these misconceptions
can be managed, and how independence is created. All people are frightened by
blindness—some more than others. All people misunderstand blindness at least
to some extent—even those who have lived with it for extensive periods and have
studied it. All people sell blind people short at least part of the time, regardless
of their training or experience. I realize that these global statements may
seem to overstate the case, but my experience tells me that they don't.
The skills portion of rehabilitation programs is important, but the blindness
study gives the skills segment of training meaning and depth. If it were possible
to teach either the skills necessary for independent cane travel or the understanding
of independent travel without the skills, it would be more desirable to teach
the second than the first. It is enormously difficult to teach either without
teaching both.
As I said earlier, the rehabilitation program I attended scheduled activities for me from 5:30 in the morning until 5:30 in the evening, and sometimes evening activities occurred. The reason for the extensive day of exercise and study is that this schedule demonstrated in a tangible way the notion that hard work is an element of rehabilitation and independence. Unless the teachers are willing to demonstrate this characteristic, most students will not believe that it is essential. Therefore teachers must expect long hours and hard work.
Then there are the elements of faith and love. Unless the teachers in a rehabilitation program become invested in the lives of their students, they will not easily be able to impart the necessary emotional and spiritual support that are required to instill a belief in the minds of the students that they have the capacity to face the world and to handle the problems that come up. Students need to know that their teachers believe in them and care about them. Blind people are routinely told that they have no ability and that their lives are without value. Most of the time these things are said with kindness, but they hurt no less for all that. The teachers represent a change of mind and a change of heart for the students. Unless the teachers believe and care enough to share that belief, the students' minds and hearts will remain unaltered and rehabilitation cannot occur.
During the course of rehabilitation the teachers will be a primary point of contact with the students. However, greater depth of understanding becomes possible when members of the organized blind movement, the National Federation of the Blind, are also incorporated into the classes. Furthermore, long-term support is available from the Federation, and the organization has thousands of role models from whom to gain experience and advice, and the Federation conducts hundreds of activities to inspire blind students. This is a major factor for the outstanding success of the training facilities operated by the National Federation of the Blind. The spirit of the Federation breeds success.
Some administrators have said that they cannot work closely with the Federation because they must remain neutral. This argument is a dismal cop-out. Neutrality in rehabilitation has never been required, and it has almost never been practiced. Rehabilitation officials should go wherever they can get the best support for their clients. My opinion is that the Federation is that place. We are prepared to work with you and build alongside you. We believe that fairness to all clients is necessary. No client should be penalized for membership in any organization. However, neutrality means that you believe membership organizations are unimportant. This is shortsighted.
One final observation must be made. Many believe that the world should be fair but that for the blind it is not. This leads a number of blind people to seek a way to get even or to look for opportunities to demand retribution or to soak the sighted. The thought is, "I'm blind, and you owe me." This thought process—soaking the sighted and retribution—is an expression of bitterness. It is destructive, and it hurts those who employ it. The blind must come to know that with proper training and opportunity blind people have the capacity to compete with others and to succeed. Blind people are not victims; nobody owes us anything. We must earn our way just as anybody else must. Rehabilitation shows us that we can, and it gives us the tools to do precisely that. It has enormous potential. Properly conducted, it is among the most honorable professions that exist anywhere in the world. It is an honor for me to talk with you about the remarkable capacity of rehabilitation in the twenty-first century.
by Fredric K. Schroeder
From Dan Frye: Dr. Fredric Schroeder, commissioner of the Rehabilitation
Services Administration during the Clinton administration, recognized professional
in the fields of blindness education and rehabilitation, and first vice president
of the National Federation of the Blind, delivered a powerful address to the
participants attending the “Dare to Be Remarkable” conference during the first
plenary session of the gathering on December 5, 2007. Resurrecting the often-discussed
themes of independence and expectations with fresh and fascinating insights,
he said the following:
I suppose we should begin at the beginning. Where did the structured discovery
model of orientation center training come from? As Dr. Maurer indicated, it
began in California in the early 1950s and was brought to maturity a decade
later under the leadership of Dr. Kenneth Jernigan during his tenure as director
of the Iowa Commission for the Blind.
Of course other programs were providing blindness skills training. So what was different? What was distinctive in the training Dr. Jernigan developed? What made it so much more dramatically effective? In a word, it was expectations, or, said another way, it was the National Federation of the Blind. For at its core the National Federation of the Blind is blind people asserting their right and ability to live normal, productive lives--as Dr. Jernigan so often said, the belief that, given proper training and opportunity, blind people can compete on terms of equality with their sighted peers.
The Iowa program stood alone. It was not just better than other programs; it
eclipsed them in its impact on the lives of blind people. It set an entirely
new standard, so different from conventional training that the two could not
be compared, as different from one another as the infinite and the finite. But
why was this so? What made the Iowa program extraordinary? What was the quintessential
difference?
Was it the quality of the skills instruction? Was it the rigor of the program?
Of course, but it was more than technical competence and a demanding curriculum.
Dr. Jernigan understood that the isolation of the blind--the lack of opportunity--was
the outgrowth of societal misconceptions about blindness or, said another way,
prejudice based on myth and misunderstanding.
The Iowa program was rooted in a recognition that the condition of the blind was not the consequence of limited ability but prejudice. It affirmatively set out to help blind people free themselves from their marginalized status by changing their own attitudes about blindness. It worked to instill in them an understanding that society's low expectations did not reflect the truth about blindness but only the view of the majority, people who could not imagine the blind living and working alongside the sighted.
To combat a lifetime of conditioning, the Iowa program pushed its students beyond anything they could have imagined. It showed them through words and deeds that blind people are limited mostly by stereotypic thinking and low expectations, not by blindness itself. This is what made the program vital and effective, but Dr. Jernigan did not stop there.
Every day, every month, every year the program became better still--more challenging, more rigorous, and as a result more effective and more successful. There was no sense of defensiveness, no sense that to do better today must mean that we did poorly yesterday or that to do better tomorrow must mean that today's efforts are wanting. Instead staff and students alike recognized that low expectations are in us all and that there is no shame in acknowledging that fact. They took pride in a shared sense of restlessness, a sense that the limits had not and would never be reached. But the value of doing better presumes that we are building on a strong foundation, building on a shared sense of purpose and on a clear vision of where we are going.
Unfortunately, conventional programs have used the idea of doing better, making progress, as an excuse for failing to challenge their students, as a shield for low expectations. For all of their history conventional programs have used the doing-better standard to justify and defend uninspired and uninspiring programs.
As rehabilitation professionals we believe in the inherent worth of all people regardless of their ability to achieve according to external measures. We acknowledge and respect individual differences, individual strengths and abilities. But our own humanity is turned against us, used to justify low expectations. We are told that, if a person is doing better, making progress, who are we to devalue the person's achievements just because those achievements fall short of our elitist expectations? We are told that, if a person only learns to pour a cup of coffee, that should be respected every bit as much as the achievement of a blind person who graduates from Yale Law School. But there is no accountability in such a view. If the person taught to pour a cup of coffee had the ability to do more, the potential to attend Yale Law School, but was denied the opportunity, the person has not been helped but damaged. And we can and must denounce that damage even when done with caring, kind words and sincere sentiment. Without a sound foundation, without a shared vision of where we are going, the doing-better standard serves only to relegate the oppressed to continued oppression.
I respect the illiterate, but I do not celebrate the lack of opportunity that inevitably results. I respect the unemployed, but I do not celebrate the 80 percent unemployment rate among the blind. As Tevye in Fiddler on the Roof so eloquently put it, "There's no shame in being poor, but it's no great honor either.” I respect differences, but I do not celebrate the consequences of low expectations. I respect the victims of oppression and prejudice, but I do not respect prejudice and oppression. Doing better is not enough, not enough if it means helping blind people move from despair to lesser despair, from hopelessness to lesser hopelessness, from poverty to lesser poverty, when something more is within reach.
This week we will share ideas, analyze our successes, and discuss the challenges that remain. We know the fundamentals. We know the principles that make the Iowa experience the model. But how do we know if we are doing well, doing enough? How do we know if our programs are good, very good, excellent, or poor? We know we must continually strive to do better, to make progress from day to day, month to month, year to year. But does making progress mean we are doing enough, doing all we should; or has it become an excuse for complacency, justifying mediocrity by saying, "We're doing better than we were, and we're doing better all the time"?
Doing better is not enough in and of itself and cannot be the sole measure. If a racehorse is running at half the speed of others, it can be argued that it is making progress while still falling farther and farther behind. I am reminded of the story of the haberdasher who sells a suit for one hundred dollars even though he paid a hundred and twenty dollars for it himself. When asked how he can afford to take such a loss, he says "I'll make it up on volume." Doing better is not enough; it only works if we begin with a sound foundation and if we have a clear idea of where we are going.
I believe the greatest challenge that confronts us is not external. It is not the challenge of finding the money to support our programs, even though it may feel like that from day to day. It is not the challenge of recruiting more students. It is not the challenge of working with a changing demographic--more and more older blind individuals, more and more people with additional disabilities--or even the challenge of finding new activities, new experiences to keep our programs vital. I believe our greatest challenge is not external, but lies within ourselves, within each of us individually and within all of us collectively. It is the challenge of resisting false pride, the idea that there is nothing more for us to learn. It is the challenge of resisting complacency, resisting falling into comfortable patterns, putting off the hard things. It is the challenge of facing our own beliefs about blindness, facing our own fears and uncertainty. It is the challenge of resisting the paralysis of doubt.
Our responsibility is not to perpetuate comfort, create an illusion of success, a facade concealing our own conditioning and low expectations. We cannot allow doing better to replace doing well, nor should we try.
Can a blind person do anything a sighted person can do? The answer is no. I cannot be an NFL quarterback in spite of my obvious physical prowess. I cannot be a brain surgeon in spite of my Einsteinesque intelligence. The problem is not in identifying the impossible. Blind people can do most things with a greater or lesser degree of adaptation. The difficulty is in knowing when the amount of adaptation is so great, so disproportionate as to make it impractical if not impossible for a blind person to do. I believe some things cannot be efficiently done without sight, but where I draw that line--the line between the impossible and the impractical--has been determined by my own beliefs about blindness, and consequently, I suspect, it has been set too low. I need you to help me. I need you to push and challenge me, not as an inquisitor or bully, but as a friend and colleague, as someone who shares a deeply held belief in the ability of blind people and who wants our programs to be a part of helping blind people break free from the bonds of stereotype and tradition. I need you to help me, and you need me to help you. By helping each other, will we be able to replace doing better with doing well, replace progress with real success? Who knows? But without it failure is certain.
Dr. Jernigan's assertion that with proper training and opportunity blind people can compete on terms of equality was not just a slogan, not just a dream or far off hope, not simply hortatory words to lift our spirits, cheer our otherwise empty lives. The assertion of equality for the blind was meant deeply and literally. It was a remarkable declaration made by a remarkable man on behalf of a class of people for whom equality had never before been imagined. It was remarkable in the 1960s and continues to be remarkable today. Not remarkable because of a deficiency in the will and ability of blind people to compete, but remarkable because of the oppression and associated lack of opportunity that blind people continue to face.
We should celebrate the work we have done, the difference we have made in the lives of our students, but we should view our success with a skeptical eye--always questioning, always wondering if we could have done more. The truth is that, if we are to learn from the Iowa experience, learn from Dr. Jernigan's example, we will acknowledge and accept that we could have and should have done more. I do not say this out of harshness or to demean or belittle our past efforts. I say it because I believe that understanding our own attitudes about blindness and their impact on our work is fundamental to our success.
What held us back, what kept us from that greater effort, that greater push, was not laziness or lack of imagination. What we did yesterday and what we do today and what we will do tomorrow are driven by what we believe about blindness. Changing society's attitudes about blindness is a long and painstaking process. Changing our students' attitudes--raising their confidence and expectations--is equally long and painstaking, but neither is longer or more painstaking and painful than changing our own attitudes and elevating our own expectations.
Our challenge--our responsibility--is to face our own prejudices, our own misconceptions about blindness. Face them honestly, not with a wink and a nod, not with an unspoken smugness that, while we have a vestige of societal conditioning, others are consumed by it. There is no place for arrogance, no place for false pride or, for that matter, false humility. The work we do is too important to allow ourselves to drift into complacency, too important to allow ourselves to become comfortable and self-satisfied. To achieve this goal, I need your help and you need mine. We need each other, and we need the collective dreams and aspirations of blind people, blind people who have joined together to encourage and support one another, to expand opportunities in education and employment and to change society's low expectations for the blind. We need the National Federation of the Blind. We cannot do it alone, and, more to the point, we the professionals cannot take the lead. The drive, the perspective, the push for equality must come from blind people themselves. That is the lesson of the Iowa experience. That is what made the difference. It was true in the 1960s, and it is true today. Doing better is not enough. Doing better is effective only if we begin with a strong foundation, the foundation that is the blind themselves, the foundation that is the National Federation of the Blind.
by Deana Graham
From Dan Frye: Dr. Deana Graham, program manager at the Criss Cole
Rehabilitation Center, Division of Blind Services, Texas Department of Assistive
and Rehabilitative Services, was the lead presenter on a panel that addressed
the topic of effecting change in a center-based environment during the first
plenary session of the Dare to Be Remarkable conference on Wednesday, December
5, 2007. She has distinguished herself as an expert on management change theory,
and she took the opportunity to share her perspective and research on this critical
issue with conference participants. The essence of the message that Dr. Graham
delivered during the gathering is reflected in chapter five of the thirty-first
Institute on Rehabilitation Issues (IRI), a chapter she authored which
provides clear formulas and strategies for introducing change in public vocational
rehabilitation programs. Dr. Graham’s reflections promise to be of considerable
help to rehabilitation-center administrators and blind consumers who are interested
in causing meaningful change to occur in local programs around the nation. No
substantive amendments to Dr. Graham’s work have been made here; only changes
to bring the writing and format into compliance with Braille Monitor standards
have been made. Bibliographic references have been omitted. These may be obtained
by acquiring a copy of the official publication. Finally, readers particularly
interested in this topic may wish to read the entire IRI for broader context.
Occasionally references are made in this excerpt that might be better appreciated
with this additional information, but the main messages about change shine through
nevertheless. We print below Dr. Graham’s chapter on change theory found in
IRI XXXI:
Defining the Change Framework
As a leader you are often faced with change that is major in scope and designates
a fundamental reorientation in the way your organization operates. This radical
or transformational change requires a fast shift in mindset. Relationships change,
both internally and externally, and systems change as the transformation process
moves forward. Quick, significant outcomes are expected, and implementation
of the new order is rapid, jolting, and often fatiguing.
The bad news is that making your organization what it should be and positioning it to create positive change in your community (not to mention changing the world) will probably involve transformational change. The good news is you already know where to start.
Transformational change begins with you. Renee Hanson, in Organizational Change: How to Survive and Thrive, states, “What organizational change ultimately requires is that people develop not just new skills and knowledge, but a whole new way of looking at things.” In the preceding exercises you envisioned a better future for yourself, your organization, your community, and your world. You have a whole new way of looking at things. Now you can take action to share that vision with others and work together toward making it a reality. As a Three-Dimensional Leader, you can begin building a framework for change.
Five basic elements are important to consider, regardless of the scope of the change. Successful change is dependent on how well you
Step One: Call to Action. Before you can even begin to deal with or lead major change, you must stop to ask and answer some tough questions. For example:
For the most part life is not made easier for leaders by major change. When radical, transformational change that is looming on the horizon has already begun as a result of outside forces or both internal and external factors are at work, the “why” questions are important ones to answer honestly and candidly.
Change occurs on multiple levels and is driven by multiple perspectives. The answers to the “why” questions are different based on perspective. The call to action must be designed to take into consideration as many perspectives as possible. It is important for you to understand your own perspective before you can effectively influence others to act.
As a leader at the top you must view change from a wide variety of perspectives, including its impact on the organization you lead. You may need to consider issues related to rapidly changing technology; national and state politics; funding; disability advocates; and changing local, state, and national regulations. You must always be cognizant of how to position your organization and use your influence to develop and sustain a positive, powerful vision for the future.
As a middle-management leader your issues relate to the internal operating systems of the organization, the partnership needed with your service community, and the impact you can have on the rights of people with disabilities. Your concerns may relate more directly to the quality of consumer services, meeting performance goals, communication challenges, and collaboration with internal customers and local external resources.
As a nonmanagement leader your questions may relate to yourself and your colleagues. How will the changes impact your ability to do your job and serve your consumers? How will the changes impact your status and influence? How will you work together with others in new relationships?
Regardless of the organizational level from which you lead, or which of the three dimensions you seek to influence, the call to action is a critical element in any framework for change. You must:
Step Two: Assess Attitudes. As the vision for change emerges, it is important to assess just where individuals are in their willingness to embrace the new ways of thinking, communicating, and behaving.
In order to move forward and proactively deal with the challenges of radical, transformational change, you must facilitate a confrontation with the undiscussables. These are issues that are critical to opening communications and building trust but have been too threatening to discuss in open dialogue. These issues become the proverbial elephant in the living room. Failure to deal with the undiscussables can make change at both the collective and personal level impossible.
How are the people impacted by the change reacting to the call to action? As a leader it is up to you to accurately determine who supports the change and at what level. In order to do that, you need to determine whether those impacted by the change are true believers, forced believers, or nonbelievers.
True believers, who are enrolled (fully behind the change) or committed (willing to actively enroll others), truly want the new reality promised by the vision. The committed person brings energy, passion, and excitement to the process. The committed person doesn’t play by the rules of the game. She is responsible for the game. If the rules of the game stand in the way of achieving the vision, she will find ways to change the rules.
Forced believers make up the majority of individuals impacted when radical, transformational changes begin to occur. These are folks who are riding the fence. They are not sure that the changes are positive on any level, but they are willing to reserve judgment, at least temporarily. Some forced believers exercise grudging compliance. They tend to dislike the changes and mistrust the true believers, but they are minimally cooperative in implementing changes, generally out of fear of retribution or job loss.
Another category of forced believers is the formally compliant group. They remain reasonably neutral about the new vision and changes but are always careful to obey the letter of the transformations, if not the spirit. They want to be perceived to be on board. They generally have a surface-level understanding of what is happening, but their heart is not yet in the new game.
Finally, the forced-believer category includes those who are doing their best to genuinely comply. They have some level of understanding and even agreement with the new state and are struggling to add passion and excitement to their belief. They are the best candidates to become true believers early in the process.
Nonbelievers are an inevitable part of all change processes. Individuals who take a stand in this category are either apathetic or noncompliant. Those who are apathetic were probably not very productive in the old order of things and will likely present similar problems in the new order. Their issue is less about change than job performance. Noncompliant members of the organization are those who have strongly held disagreements with the new direction of things. They may have been satisfied with the way things were done and remain firmly unconvinced that changes need to be made.
Every participant in the change process requires your support and encouragement. As a change leader you must manage the white space. The white space is the gap between what people do and say and what they think and feel. The larger the gap between action and belief, the more dysfunction the individual, and ultimately the process, are likely to experience. The goal at this juncture in the change process must be to provide forced and nonbelievers with as much information, support, and guidance regarding nonnegotiable aspects as needed to transition them to the ranks of the true believers. Ultimately individuals who are unable to embrace at least forced-believer status will leave the organization, voluntarily or otherwise.
True believers require significant amounts of encouragement and support as
well, especially from the leader whose vision they embrace and whose call to
action they support. As the new environment emerges, they are in the minority
and outside the mainstream of standard systems. These are the transformational
leaders who are willing to die for the cause and provide the energy and persistence
all change processes require to be successful.
You Are Not Alone
Change is a process that relies heavily on overcoming inertia. As a change leader,
once you have successfully negotiated steps one and two above, the good news
is that you are well on your way to facilitating radical, transformational change.
The other part of the good news is that you are not alone.
Step 3: Form a Powerful Coalition. As the change process gets underway, you need to identify the true believers. This is called “diagonal slicing.” Those who strongly support the changes embodied in the vision will be found at all levels impacted by the change process. They will have diverse work responsibilities, levels of power, informal authority, and motivations.
They will communicate within their work groups their thoughts and support for the new ideas and changes. At some point they will become a critical mass. There will be enough true believers to begin implementation of significant changes, provide training to other participants, and explain the changes to external constituents. Experimentation will occur and insight will be gained which will continue to improve services and create success. Nothing breeds success like success.
While true believers become a driving force for change, very powerful coalitions may be formed with others who share commitment to similar long-term outcomes. There may be dissenting voices among coalition members and a healthy diversity of perspectives. There may be opposition to some of the strategies planned to reach the change goal. However, if the coalition is aligned toward the long-term change, differences create opportunities for problem solving and alternatives that may be greater than those devised by true believers alone.
Step Four: Expand Commitment and Empower Others to Act. The change process is well underway. The entire dynamic of change is feeling and acting a bit chaotic. Transitions are occurring at different rates and levels. Overall productivity may be temporarily lower. Realignments are taking place, resulting in significant communication and management challenges.
You may very well feel regretful for having taken on the challenge of change at all. The prevailing insight tends to be, “If I had known it would be this difficult, I never would have started.” Transformational leadership is risky business and clearly not for the faint-hearted. This is the time to remind yourself that change in all three dimensions is necessary to the survival of organizations, community services, and opportunities for people with disabilities.
This is a time to expand the numbers of those who are true believers and expect others to move from grudging compliance to at least formal compliance and so on up the scale. You should expect true believers to spend a significant amount of their time teaching others about the new state. Experimentation continues, and useful insights lead to confirmation of valid ways of thinking, improved practices, new relationships, and value-added outcomes for people with disabilities.
Empowering others to act is a key element in any successful change strategy. Participants in the change who have the authority to make choices and the support to take risks will provide the innovative and creative ideas needed to move through the chaotic transition phase and into the new emerging state. Empowered true believers develop and create new systems and models that will provide small, successful wins, which can become the foundational building blocks for new structures within the organization.
Encouragement and avenues for sharing success stories must become a priority. Even small successes reinforce new ideas and behaviors and promote learning and professional growth. Overall confidence increases, and the number of people willing to give the new way a try grows. Participants have new experiences and develop new ideas and concepts, which result in new perspectives. Roles are redefined to match the new, emergent order of things. New roles encourage new patterns of action, and the cycle of empowerment begins anew.
Step Five: Consolidation, Mastery and Normalization. Eventually chaos subsides and life returns to a more manageable level of activity. The new reality is better able to meet the emerging needs of the internal and external environments. Values have shifted to encompass the current state. New technologies and systems have been mastered, informal organizational structures have reformed and consolidated, and all is back to a somewhat different normal.
Normalization, which is a necessary part of the cycle, can become a dead end. For transformational change to continue, the transformational cycle must be complete. The change process will continue when there is ongoing evaluation, reinvention, and realignment by 3-D leaders.
As a change leader in any of the three dimensions, you must be aware of pitfalls that often doom the best-intentioned changes: stagnation, illusion, panic, and exhaustion.
by Lea Grupen
From
Dan Frye: Following the theoretical discussion of elements necessary to effect
substantial change in public rehabilitation programs, Lea Grupen, orientation
center director and field services supervisor at Ho`opono Services for the Blind,
a branch of Hawaii State Vocational Rehabilitation, spoke movingly about the
reforms that she has shepherded at the residential rehabilitation center that
she administers. Her remarks represent a model of how theory and practice can
be successfully married. Readers will marvel at the change that has occurred
in Hawaii, rejoice in the newly found promise for blind consumers of this state,
and enjoy the vicarious Hawaiian cultural experience that her address provides.
Here is what she said:
Aloha, my name is Lea Grupen, and I am the orientation center director and field
services supervisor at Ho`opono Services for the Blind, a branch of Hawaii State
Vocational Rehabilitation.
I am humbled and grateful for being invited to speak to you today about our experiences in changing our training program. I want all of you in the audience who are thinking about making a change to believe that it is possible. This sounds like such a cliché, but change is not easy. It is definitely easier to stay the same. Now I am going to throw a few Hawaiian words at you. I think you will be able to relate. You have to make a decision. You have to want pono--justice; you have to have ha`aha`a--humility. You must have an attitude of imua--moving forward; malama and aloha--genuine caring for your students. Your staff, from the administration down, must accept kuleana--responsibility; you must be wiwo`ole--courageous. And you need to have lots of help from friends who know what they are doing.
About seven years ago we had an adjustment-to-blindness-training program that was running under the traditional medical model. It was a day program in which students could come in when they wanted and take the classes they wanted using whatever vision they had, and it was run by primarily sighted staff who cared about their students and were doing the best they could to train blind consumers in the basic core areas of cane travel, Braille, computers, and home management. There was also a class called “GT,” or “Give and Take,” which was a sort of group therapy session. Many students had been coming to the center over and over again and did not really get to know one another. Staff and students did not interact much except in the classrooms. We ran a sheltered workshop producing items such as brooms, mops, and pens.
In the year 2000 my boss, Dave Eveland, visited the Iowa Department for the Blind as part of a conference and saw a very different kind of training program. He saw students who were independent, happy, and successful. As you all probably know, this program was founded by Dr. Kenneth Jernigan and employs a structured discovery model. Students are given instruction under sleepshades using long canes and problem solving, and—most important--are immersed in a positive philosophy of blindness. There, students come to believe that, given the proper training and opportunity, blindness can be reduced to a nuisance level, a characteristic. Students and staff understand that the main problems facing blind people stem from the misconceptions they face from society. Shortly after Dave’s visit, I was hired at Ho`opono, having been a vocational rehabilitation counselor at the general agency in Hawaii for a number of years. I was fortunate enough to receive sleepshade training at the Iowa center. It all made sense to me. Why couldn’t we do it in Hawaii? After all, both consumer organizations in our state had been asking us to make a change for quite some time. We knew we needed to do better. It was our kuleana--our responsibility.
I came home and told Dave of my experiences. We decided that there was no reason why we couldn’t make things better for the blind of Hawaii. But where to start? Shortly after my Iowa trip, in early 2001, I went to a management-training program sponsored by RSA. There I met Carlos Serván, deputy director at the Nebraska Commission for the Blind, where they have been teaching the structured discovery method for a long time. We had long discussions about blindness and about good training, and he helped me to believe we could make it a reality. He suggested I call Fred Schroeder. Fred Schroeder! I thought, how can I just pick up the phone and call this guy? Will he really take me seriously? Well I swallowed my fear and made the call. He listened. He gave me encouragement. He suggested I call Doug Boone to have him come and do some training with staff. Doug did an excellent job with our staff, returning several times to work in small groups with staff under sleepshades, doing travel and philosophy discussions.
Then I was fortunate enough to meet Allen Harris, now director of the Iowa Department for the Blind, although at the time he was working in New York. He was in Honolulu for an NFB state convention. I told him of our thoughts and plans, and he gave me more encouragement, more ideas. He took me seriously. He told me we could do it. I started to really believe we could.
In early 2002 Sandy Tigges, director of the orientation center in Iowa, agreed to come to Hawaii to meet with Ho`opono administration and staff, and to discuss our plans for change further. She helped us all to understand the commitment we were about to make, and as a large group we created a mission and vision. We were a little bit further along the path to change. We began sending all staff to Iowa for two to three weeks at a time, so they could receive training and also shadow teachers and counselors there. Staff came back with a slightly better understanding of the structured discovery method, but we knew we needed much more. Imua…we moved forward. In November 2002 we renamed ourselves as the New Visions program. We changed our training program to one using sleepshades and the long cane exclusively (no exceptions), taking all classes (with the addition of woodshop), and coming every day. Classes were now taught in groups. We were trying our best to work toward change. We had a core group of committed staff and the support of large numbers of consumers in the community. We closed down our sheltered workshop.
Now don’t get me wrong, we also had opposition on our staff and in the community. Some staff thought we weren’t changing fast enough, or we weren’t doing it right. Some staff strongly disagreed with the change. People said we were not providing informed choice. People said we were cruel. People said we were being given orders by the National Federation of the Blind and that the NFB has a one-size-fits-all approach for only the superblind, the cream of the crop. It was for only haoles--white people, and was not culturally sensitive. It went on and on. Attacks came daily, weekly, monthly. We had countless town hall meetings, letters, and phone calls. We even had to face legislators because of complaints. We had to hang tough. We knew what we were doing was right. We were working for pono--justice. We were wiso`ole--tireless. It was our kuleana, our responsibility, to do the best we could for the consumers we served. And we definitely had malama and aloha from friends in the National Federation of the Blind, in Hawaii and here on the mainland.
I was the first staff member ever to become active in a consumer organization when I joined the NFB and attended my first national convention in Philadelphia in 2001. There I would seek out confident blind people and ask them questions: Where did you get your training? What was it like? Now that I think about it, I was probably a pest, but no one ever turned me away. Every single person I talked to had graduated from a structured discovery program and was willing to take time, to encourage, to show interest, to answer my millions of questions. I found more support from people such as Jim and Sharon Omvig, who invited me to their hotel room for Grape Nuts and juice and talked with me, encouraged me, made time, and showed aloha for what Ho`opono was undertaking. Don’t give up, they said. We are here for you, they said. Anything we can do, they said. Ramona Walhof, Chris Boone, Ron Gardner, and countless others answered the call.
We still had staff going to the Iowa center for training. Some started going to the Louisiana Center for the Blind as well. We kept learning. Staff were returning with new ideas and with a renewed energy in their jobs. The naysayers also kept on. We were wiwo`ole. We wouldn’t turn back. Some staff left us when they realized we were heading in this direction and were not going to compromise. We hired new people with open minds, blind and sighted. They became role models for our students. We got rid of the GT class and changed it to BOBB–Business of Being Blind. We no longer had a psychologist or occupational therapist on staff.
So we had a taste of structured discovery training, but we still didn’t fully understand how to make it work. We needed to take the next step. With the help of Dave Eveland, Dr. Schroeder, and Dr. Eddie Bell, a contract was negotiated--and it wasn’t cheap, but it was well worth it--to bring staff--we called them coaches--from the Iowa department and from the Louisiana Center for the Blind to Honolulu each and every week for a period of twelve months starting in January 2006. A coach from each instructional area would come to work one on one with our staff on a rotating basis, observing and modeling the way for us. They worked with each of the orientation center staff and students. Now we were starting to understand more. Things were starting to click. And, most of all, our students were learning faster, exceeding our expectations. They were finishing the program, which was now about nine months, more ready to continue to college and good jobs. We were working harder, but also laughing and enjoying ourselves. Students and staff were eating lunch together, going out together, and just hanging out.
However, things were not all rosy. Union grievances were filed by some staff who either did not agree with the changes or did not like having coaches working with them so intensively. After all, it takes a lot of ha`aha`a—humility--to open oneself up to admit to not knowing how to teach and think in this new way. But almost all of the staff, as time went on, came to see that the rumors were not true: the structured discovery method, yes, is employed by NFB centers, but the Iowa and NFB center staff are not militants or robots, advocating a one-size-fits-all, cookie-cutter approach. They have students of all kinds, just like we do. Blind people in Hawaii have the same needs and the same possibilities as blind people anywhere else.
After the first coaching cycle, we started another. We were in this for the long haul. We had come a long way, but we still needed more. We were wiwo`ole. We wanted to get it right. And we now had a new vocational rehabilitation administrator who really believed in what we were doing: Joe Cordova. With Joe’s unwavering support, in January 2007 we expanded the coaching staff to include weekly visits from instructors and directors from the Colorado Center for the Blind and BLIND, Inc., the other two NFB centers. He gave us his commitment to find funding for student apartments. We took recommendations from the coaches. We implemented almost all of them because they made sense and because it was our kuleana--our responsibility to do this thing right. The coaches were never condemning or scolding, always patient and respectful. They were obviously dedicated to their jobs and made us feel proud about what we were doing. And our staff were ha`aha`a, wanted to do their best and continue to learn. They were not passive in the process. They were fully engaged, they worked hard, and they saw that this new way of doing things was paying off in huge dividends for our students. I am so proud of all of them; seven of them are here today. Why don’t you guys stand up.
Now the coaching cycles for the teachers have finished, although many continue to stay in touch with their coaches by phone calls and emails. The administrative coaching continues as well. I am still fortunate to be receiving enormous amounts of support from my administrative coaches. Dr. Schroeder, Allen Harris, Pam Allen, Shawn Mayo, Julie Deden, Sandy Tigges, Joanne Wilson, Dick Davis, and the countless others I know I can call on any time, and they will be there. They are wiwo`ole, they always believe, they always encourage. They are generous with their time, always willing to listen and give advice, to tell me when I am doing things right and to tell me when they think things could be done differently. All of our coaches, without exception, have also told us they have learned things from the Ho`opono staff.
Finally we are in the process of taking all that we have learned so far and synthesizing practices and beliefs that enable us to work toward doing the best that we can do. We are a little bit Iowa, a little Louisiana, a little Minnesota, and a little Colorado. But we also know we are Hawaiian, and we must have our own identity. What I know for sure is that we are a very different place than we were seven years ago. We are now functioning at full capacity and have a long waitlist to get in. We have students wanting to come to our center from Guam, Saipan, Samoa, and here on the mainland. We have off-campus apartments that are extensions of our classrooms and have built a whole other dimension into New Visions.
Our students are traveling independently all over the state, with the majority now using the bus rather than paratransit. They are reading the Braille code. They are confident users of technology. They are giving back to the community through volunteer efforts and participation in consumer groups. They are managing their families and households independently. They are making more money per hour now at closure than they ever have before; in fact, I believe their wages at closure are some of the highest in the nation. Our staff are functioning as a cohesive team. We believe deeply in what we do. We have hired a couple of New Visions graduates as well as some from the Louisiana center and the Nebraska center on our staff as NOMC cane travel teachers, Braille teachers, home ec teachers, and counselors. We now have new staff go through training in our center for up to four months before they start their jobs.
We still have rough days, but now that I look back, and with reminders from our supporters and our students, I see that we have come further than we ever imagined. On behalf of all the staff at Ho`opono, I want to take this opportunity to thank all those who have believed in us from the beginning, who have given your tireless support and encouragement, and helped us to get where we are today. I feel great hope knowing that we will continue to have your support in the future as well. We promise to imua, to malama, to be wiwo`ole. The wisdom you have shared with us is priceless, and we promise to continue to do our best with the gifts you have given us.
And again, to those of you sitting in the audience today, where I once was, wondering if change can be realized: please believe that, if you are committed, humble, tireless, and courageous and really care about the consumers you serve, all you need to do is reach out to the experts. If you are serious, they will support you every step of the way. Please find me and talk to me if I can be of any help to you as well.
Mahalo nui and aloha.
by Edward Bell
From Dan Frye: Dr. Edward Bell, director of the Professional Development
and Research Institute on Blindness at Louisiana Tech University, delivered
an illuminating lecture on the definition, purposes, and practical application
of the structured discovery teaching method and general philosophical mindset
at the Dare to Be Remarkable conference during the second plenary session on
December 6, 2007. Using his personal life experience, theoretical underpinnings,
and quantifiable research to illustrate the concept of structured discovery,
Dr. Bell makes clear this often misunderstood approach and shows how it can
be put to practical use in the context of rehabilitation training of blind consumers.
His comments, while not exhaustive on the topic, will be a good primer on structured
discovery for us all to consider. This is what he said:
“Structured discovery” is the term that has been coined to define a specific
methodology used in the rehabilitation of blind people. This methodology, born
out of the collective knowledge, experiences, and beliefs of successful blind
men and women who have achieved independence, serves as the driving force behind
effective rehabilitation training today. But what is structured discovery, and
how can it be implemented in classrooms and training programs throughout the
country? The answer is simple yet allusive and intangible.
Before one can implement structured discovery in a training situation, one
must first have a fundamental understanding of this concept at both the intellectual
and intuitive levels. Structured discovery is not a set of principles or rules
that can be written down and taught in a couple of modules. It is instead a
fundamental shift in the worldview, philosophy, and scope of practice within
which a person operates. It is part and parcel of who a person is as a teacher.
Anyone who tells you that he or she teaches both conventional and structured
discovery methods has a fundamental misunderstanding of the idea—it is not possible
to pick and choose which methodology to use if you are a true structured discovery
instructor. In attempting to clarify the issue, I will use personal experiences,
theoretical foundations, and research to explain structured discovery.
Personal History
I was born in Albuquerque, New Mexico, and was raised as a hopeful, independent
sighted child. Although I grew up in poverty with no opportunity for a college
education, I was at least raised with the expectation that I would work, have
a family, and contribute to society in some way. When I was suddenly blinded
at age seventeen as a result of a gunshot wound, my entire world changed. Although
I had never met another blind person in my life, I knew in my gut that my life
would be severely limited, that my opportunities for employment were nil, and
that my expectations for a normal life were gone. This was evident to me despite
the fact that I had had no exposure to blindness prior to my own accident.
Knowing nothing about blindness, we contacted the state VR agency to learn about our options. I learned that I had access to informed choice and had the right to choose my own employment goal and service providers. In the age of informed choice this would have been the expected course of action. This information alone, however, would have been, not informed choice, but uninformed chance, and the results would have been disastrous.
You know the choice in the old adage, give a man a fish…or teach him to fish…. At that point in my life I did not want to fish, I did not believe that blind people could fish, and I was not motivated to learn to fish. Had I lived in many other states, failure to fish would have been my choice, and my case would have been closed. I lived in New Mexico, however, where my rehabilitation counselor knew better. She recognized that my diminished hope and lack of aspiration was not my true goal, but rather a result of the diminished expectation of society that I had internalized. My counselor expected that I would go to the orientation center, expected that I would complete my GED, and expected that I would then go to college. She did not hold another gun to my head, but rather insisted on my success through her unending love, encouragement, and support. She was not content to provide me with options and allow me to make a choice knowing that I would sell myself short. This is an example of the way structured discovery works.
At the orientation center positive blind role models (both staff and students) surrounded me. They immediately put a cane in my hand and got me out onto the streets. They taught me techniques, helped me to overcome my fears, and demonstrated to me through my own success that I was going to make it. Each time I attempted to gain sympathy from my instructors by telling them my dramatic story of being blinded in a drive-by shooting, their response was, “I am sorry to hear that, but what are you going to do now?” I quickly concluded that no one was feeling sorry for me and that I should get over it. Once the pity party was over, my only choice was to look forward and never to look back. This is the way structured discovery works.
So I immediately jumped into college and then into my present career, right?
Wrong. I was still the uneducated kid from the ghetto who did not have a strong
academic background, had no role models from home, and had no interest in pursuing
higher education. My instructors at the center and fellow students, who today
are my dear friends, would not allow me to sell myself short. They encouraged
me, helped me to study for remedial classes, and expected that I would be successful.
They helped me to problem-solve challenges in college, picked me up when I fell
down, and reminded me that we were all in this together. This is the way structured
discovery works.
Theoretical Foundations
For some of you my story is entirely illustrative, while for others structured
discovery remains illusive. I will try to explain. While it is often characterized
by a cane and sleepshades, structured discovery is more accurately a holistic
approach to the way we work with all blind people. It is simultaneously a set
of specific skills and an overarching approach to the way we view the condition
of blindness. Too often professionals in the field view the longer white cane
and sleepshades and come to the conclusion that they have defined structured
discovery. In true behavioral psychology it is easier to describe that which
is directly observable. Structured discovery, however, borrows much more heavily
from the cognitive-psychology side of the fence, where considerably more emphasis
is placed on the changes that happen within an individual, but, which are not
directly observable by the naked eye. Far more than a philosophical approach,
over forty years of empirical research in social cognitive learning supports
the foundations of structured discovery.
True, a structured discovery program depends heavily on a long white cane, and sleepshades are used throughout the instruction. These, however, are merely the means to the end, but not the end in itself. Structured discovery at its core has much more to do with the cognitive, emotive, and behavioral changes that occur within the individual. Dr. Jernigan built this methodology by focusing on mastery of blindness skills, building self-confidence, learning to cope with public attitudes about blindness, and changing the way individuals think of themselves as blind people. His foresight and knowledge are the foundation of the methodology that has come to be known as structured discovery.
Albert Bandura, a leading cognitive psychologist, has helped us to articulate the concept of self-efficacy and the way these processes are achieved through structured discovery training. Bandura did not study blindness, and Dr. Jernigan did not study Bandura, but the philosophy and research are inseparable. It is important to note here that self-efficacy is not unique to blindness but is fundamentally the way human beings learn. More than forty years of empirical research has been done to explain how individuals succeed in accomplishing their goals. These are the tenants found in structured discovery training.
Bandura stated that self-efficacy is the cornerstone of human agency and is defined as an individual’s belief in his or her capacity to carry out actions effectively to achieve desired goals. According to Bandura there are four primary ways to increase self-efficacy, and it is these tenets that underlie structured discovery training.
1. The most powerful way to increase efficacy is by succeeding at tasks one considered difficult or impossible—success breeds success. It is not achieved through counseling or talking about it, but by having the direct experience for oneself in a meaningful way. Structured discovery functions to provide extensive experiences to people in real-world situations. Through Socratic questioning they learn to problem-solve in every situation, from how to judge the safety of a street crossing to living independently. Each small success builds efficacy to accomplish greater and greater goals.
2. The second most potent means to increase efficacy is through role modeling or witnessing someone who is similar to you doing the very task you fear. This is not trivial but a cornerstone of structured discovery learning. It is simply not sufficient for an instructor to talk about how important nonvisual skills are. If he cannot put his money where his mouth is, the student will lose all confidence in him. This is why structured discovery centers hire blind instructors and insure that sighted instructors can do their jobs nonvisually. By the same token, if blind students see their fellow students constantly going sighted guide, deferring to students with more vision, and depending on sighted instructors to protect them during challenging tasks, they will come to believe that blindness means dependency, not independence. The actions of instructors and other students have a far greater impact on the outcomes for the student body than any amount of rhetoric about independence.
3. The third way to increase efficacy is through persuasion, which is the encouragement, support, and praise we give students when they succeed at their goals. Critical to structured discovery is that instructors find ways to praise students for their success, but only for meaningful success. When praise is given for accomplishments that are mundane or trivial, it serves more to lessen and not strengthen efficacy. Structured discovery centers work constantly to recognize the day-to-day accomplishments of each student, while continuing to push them to move onto the next challenge. Announcing bell ringers [victories worthy of celebration], sampling each other’s creations in home ec, and debriefing after lessons are all ways that the instructor provides encouragement and motivation for the student to try harder.
4. Finally, emotions effect efficacy in two ways--by increasing positive feelings or pride in success, and by reducing fear and anxiety about performance. In other words, a small amount of stress challenges the student to work harder; however, confidence may be diminished if stress exceeds one's current ability. In structured discovery, no matter what the student’s capacity, it is critical to push that student continually to meet higher and higher challenges. People tend to live up to the expectations that others hold for them, whether the expectation is high or low. What is wrong with shooting for the moon? If you miss, you will still be among the stars. Once you stop providing meaningful challenges to students, you can stop the training--you can send them home because you are no longer using the structured discovery method.
Structured discovery centers build self-efficacy in many ways. It is counterproductive
to try to come up with a list of activities or modules to teach using the structured
discovery method. In the first place, the list will quickly become outdated,
and, in the second place, attempting to do so contradicts the very nature of
structured discovery. Teaching occurs in many environments, and the learner
must be challenged on all levels. Structured discovery is about providing students
with meaningful experiences that build their skill sets while simultaneously
boosting their confidence in their ability to do more things. This is done through
experiential learning, viewing positive role models, and continually raising
the bar for one another. This is the methodology that Dr. Jernigan laid out
fifty years ago, and it is based on the same principles that have been empirically
validated for more than forty years in many realms of human learning.
Research Data
The proof is in the pudding. What has happened with all of these people who
have learned using the structured discovery method? In attempting to understand
the true nature of structured discovery and to provide the evidence that supports
its efficacy, we at the Professional Development and Research Institute on Blindness
at Louisiana Tech University have begun to study students who have received
structured discovery training. The following studies highlight the important
factors of structured discovery. Some of the participants graduated from structured
discovery centers, learned through their experiences in the NFB, or participated
in programs that used structured discovery elements.
Functional Independence: In 2004 Dr. Ram Aditya conducted a study involving 228 blind adults who had graduated from residential training programs across the country. The study used a measure created by Dr. Aditya to quantify the functional independence of blind adults in their daily lives. The scales included measures of daily living, mobility, information access, and home management skills. The results demonstrated that individuals taught using the structured discovery model of training had statistically higher scores on the functional independence scale. Not only did recipients have significantly higher reported belief in their ability to function independently, but they had even more highly significant scores on their reported behaviors of living independently. This means that, not only did individuals state that they were more confident in their abilities to live independently, but they were in fact more engaged in society and living independently. The data support the premise that the structured discovery teaching method is more efficacious in cultivating ability and behavior of independent functioning.
Focus Group: Just over a year ago Professor Mary Ann Goodwyn and I conducted two focus group studies of blind adults whom we determined to have met objective criteria of success, and we asked them to illuminate the factors that they believed had led to their success. This qualitative study of fourteen NFB members revealed that success, beyond economic factors, was defined by having control over one’s life, achieving important goals, doing the things one wanted to do, giving back to others, and having a quality life led with integrity and good will towards others. After more than twelve hours of focused discussion, participants reported that the factors they associated with their success were having strong family expectations for success; finally coming to accept blindness and identifying themselves as blind; gaining skills for independence, especially in mobility and Braille; having access to positive blind role models; learning problem-solving skills for work and life; involvement in an organization which provides personal identity, social support, an opportunity to give back, and a feeling of normalcy and commonality; and the collective efficacy that comes from knowing that one is part of a social network of like-minded individuals who work collectively to achieve their common goals.
Mentoring: We have already said that role modeling is a critical component of structured discovery. Dr. Betsy Zaborowski, former executive director of the Jernigan Institute and a beloved NFB leader who recently died of cancer, knew this and endeavored to create a national model for mentoring blind or visually impaired youth. Through this one-to-one role modeling and the infusing of problem-solving techniques, structured discovery has been implemented. Data have now been collected for youth who have participated for two years in the NFB mentoring program along with new applicants who have not yet benefited from a mentoring relationship. Data have been collected on 153 individuals, fifty-four of whom have completed the mentoring program and ninety-nine of whom are just beginning. The results demonstrated that youth who have participated in a mentoring relationship with a member of the NFB for at least one year had statistically significant higher attitudes about blindness. These youth also demonstrated a measure of hope for their future. Those in the mentoring program had significantly higher scores than those who had not participated. As was revealed in the focus group study, affiliation with the NFB was associated with greater acceptance of blindness, which in turn was associated with higher levels of hope and healthier attitudes about blindness.
Youth Slam: In July 2007 the NFB conducted the first ever Youth Slam, which brought nearly two hundred youth to Baltimore to be surrounded by positive blind role models, to encourage their interest in science-technology-engineering-and-math-related (STEM) careers and to provide them with a network of blind mentors to assist in their success. I have been involved in the data analysis of participating youth. Pretest data were collected on 131 youth, and posttest data were obtained from 122 of those youth. While the results are still being compiled, the data so far demonstrate that youth who participated in the Slam had statistically higher attitudes about blindness after their participation. Additionally, youth reported significantly higher rates of confidence in their ability to achieve passing grades in STEM-related courses. Here again we find an association between the exposure to positive blind role models, the use of nonvisual techniques, and problem-solving skills with personal attitudes about blindness, and confidence in succeeding through challenging events.
For those interested in these statistical analyses, all significant findings
reported here were found with probability values less than .05 and .01. Neither
the qualitative nor the quantitative research studies capture the full scope
of structured discovery, yet each supports the fundamental elements that make
up a structured discovery program. The anecdotal evidence that supports structured
discovery training is noteworthy. I have had an opportunity to work with several
programs interested in adopting the structured discovery methodology. When I
ask why they are interested, the first thing said is, “We have seen graduates
of NFB centers walking around, and they are so confident and poised.” At least
once a month I receive phone calls from centers around the country hoping to
hire our graduates. While their O&M needs are great, these programs recognize
the value of structured discovery, and the directors insist on this type of
training. Although such information is not quantifiable, when it is taken as
a whole, it is compelling.
Summary
In summary, the job of a structured discovery instructor is to consider the
entire individual, including his or her desires, aspirations, hopes, and dreams.
It is not sufficient for such an instructor merely to provide a set of skills
and feel that her work is done. She should feel that it is her professional
responsibility to change the attitudes about blindness of individual students
and society as much as it is to do anything else. It is not just philosophy.
It is her ethical responsibility to the profession. It is her role as a structured
discovery instructor, and it is entirely within the scope of best practice in
her profession.
For, though we all want to teach a man to fish so that he will eat for a lifetime, we must first inspire him to pick up the pole, we must stand by him when he falters, and we must show him how to cast the line that is his future. This is what structured discovery is all about.
by Shawn Mayo, Pam Allen, and Julie Deden
From Dan Frye: Shawn Mayo, Pam Allen, and Julie Deden are the executive
directors of BLIND, Incorporated, the Louisiana Center for the Blind, and the
Colorado Center for the Blind, our three NFB training centers. On Thursday,
December 6, 2007, during the second plenary session of the Dare to Be Remarkable
conference, these women offered a collaborative presentation outlining the essential
elements for operating a top-notch residential training center. Material from
their remarks will be of benefit to administrators and teachers working in residential
training centers across the country. Even where the formula for a successful
residential training center for the blind may be fluid and hard to capture in
writing, readers of the Braille Monitor will also gain additional insight
from the complementary perspectives of these three center directors. This is
what they said:
Shawn Mayo: The word “organic” is a very popular term these
days. We hear it often and in varied contexts, from the produce aisle at the
grocery store to the latest book on business success. Merriam-Webster has many
definitions for the word “organic,” but the two that speak to what we are going
to talk about are: “developing in the manner of a living plant or animal” and
“an integral element of a whole: fundamental.” These definitions encapsulate
our position toward curriculum.
We have had discussions about whether we should produce a manual that outlines how NFB centers do our training. I think such a manual would be impossible to create. Curriculum is a living thing. It is constantly changing to fit its environment, the tools and strategies available, and the individuals who put it into practice. The part of curriculum that is written down is only as useful as a football team’s playbook. It is an important part of preparation, but it won’t tell you which play will work best in a given game situation, and it is absolutely worthless without a team to execute the plays. In fact, if you want to be a championship team, you need to have players who know when to run the play as designed and when to improvise. For example, if a student comes into computer class after having finished a travel assignment in which he is preoccupied because he was just pulled across the street by a stranger and the instructor knows from seminar class that his family has been telling him that he does not need to use his cane, the instructor may have to discuss what has happened with the student to identify solutions and ways of educating the public and his family rather than working on the dialog box assignment that was called for in the curriculum.
All curricula must begin with a goal. An outcome that the curriculum is meant to achieve must exist, or there is no point in going to the work of building a curriculum. The primary goal of adjustment-to-blindness training at our NFB centers is for our students to make blindness become a nonfactor in all areas of their lives. Many factors abound that shape the kind of life that a person will have—intellectual ability, skills and talents, work ethic, education, economic status, etc.; but blindness shouldn’t be on this list. Other things should also probably not be on this list, but those would be the domains of other types of programs.
What we know is blindness, and we know that all blind people can be as successful
and fulfilled as they would have been if they had had perfect vision. Our job
is to create an environment in which blind people can gain the skills, self-confidence,
and positive attitude they need to take blindness out of the equation–to become
as independent, socially adapted, employable, and successful as they would be
if they were not blind. Every other goal we set and everything we do stems from
this aim. Everyone we hire and every member of our boards believe in and actively
work to achieve this objective. I was going to make the analogy that this goal
is the trunk of the curriculum tree, but it is really like the tree’s DNA. It
both defines the very nature of our programs and is embedded within every aspect
of our training.
From this primary goal there come secondary goals that form the basis for the
different classes we offer. In order to make blindness a nonfactor in one’s
life, one’s practical needs must be met. A person has to be able to travel,
read, write, access information, and take care of oneself and his or her home.
Everyone has to achieve these things, but the extent to which each person needs
to accomplish each of these subgoals depends on his or her own personal attributes
and aspirations.
We require students to complete drop-offs. This is where they are taken to an unknown location and expected to find their way back to the center while asking only one question. Sometimes we have had students who have memory loss or other cognitive disabilities. They still complete the drop-offs, but they may need to ask more than one question. We never tell our students that they cannot learn anything—in fact we know that students can always reach far beyond what they expect--but we always keep our ultimate goal in mind. It’s not just whether they meet this or that preset standard of achievement; it’s whether or not they are making blindness a nonissue in their lives. Success is not a static term. The equation of success will be different for each individual, but blindness won’t determine whether a person reaches his or her potential.
The term “the blind” has historically given society the erroneous impression that blind people are all alike. The only real common denominator among blind people is blindness. The only real common denominator among our students is the way they conceptualize blindness and live out that conceptualization in their daily lives. One of our assistant directors at BLIND Incorporated, Dick Davis, has a tradition of giving each student a rock when he or she graduates. He explains that this rock started out large and rough and has been made small and smooth by flowing water. He explains that the rock represents blindness and that, when a person is first blind or hasn’t dealt with blindness, it is the size of a boulder, and they have to use a lot of energy to drag it around everywhere they go. But during training a student erodes the boulder, little by little, until it is a manageable size—a rock that fits in the pocket. Sometimes it will feel uncomfortable, and other times they will forget it’s there and accidentally run it through the laundry, but it won’t ever command much of their attention or strength. They won’t have to organize their lives around blindness—they can organize their lives around what matters most to them.
Now I would like to introduce Pam Allen, executive director of the Louisiana
Center for the Blind. Pam will expand on the tools that we use to help each
student wear down blindness to a manageable size.
Pam Allen: In order to make blindness a nonfactor, we need
tools--ways to help our students confront their fears and increase their expectation
levels. These tools include sleepshade practice, long cane use, Braille and
computer literacy skills, daily living experiences, confidence-building activities,
a residential living component, exposure to peer support, a unified staff, role
modeling, and immersion in a positive philosophy about blindness. These tools
are time-tested and can be tailored to different environments to meet the individual
needs of our students. At our NFB training centers we immerse our students in
an environment designed to help them question their belief system about blindness
and to master the skills needed for independence. Since our students stay an
average of six to nine months and participate in a required core curriculum
which weaves the development of problem-solving and self-advocacy into all aspects
of training, they have the opportunity to master the skills and, most important,
to develop the philosophy which makes blindness a nonfactor.
Because our students are surrounded by the positive message of the National Federation of the Blind, they learn to appreciate its history and come to understand that they are part of a nationwide support system. We incorporate the National Federation of the Blind into all areas, including our philosophy classes, through attending state and national conventions and by connecting students with NFB affiliates in the states where they will reside upon graduation. We realize that training at our centers is the beginning and that students need to stay connected with positive role models who can provide ongoing support and encouragement. Also our students understand the essential element of giving back--of working together to effect positive change.
One of the tools I mentioned is philosophy class–a chance for our students to express their thoughts, feelings, questions, and opinions. I can promise you that sometimes these classes are quite interesting because they force our students to confront honestly their fears, anxiety, anger, and stereotypes about blindness. It is critical for these classes to offer a positive and constructive environment. Simply instituting a philosophy class will not empower students unless the class is truly promoting a positive attitude about blindness. A philosophy class should not reinforce negative attitudes and support fears; instead it must help students break free of these negative ideas that impede potential. Let me illustrate this point. If the person facilitating the philosophy class does not understand fully the importance of using sleepshades, when a student questions why sleepshades must be used, the facilitator might promote a negative idea or undermine a key tool of training.
Similarly, challenge and recreation activities must be geared to help students gain confidence. For example, if an activity is organized in which students go to a movie and then to a restaurant for dinner, staff members must use this activity as a time to develop problem-solving and not to foster dependency. When we organize field trips like this, for instance, sighted staff members cannot read the menu to students so that students must employ alternative methods to find out the items offered. Also, if a student is at dinner and needs to find the restroom, what a wonderful teaching opportunity--a great time for students to combine travel skills and problem-solving to locate the bathroom. Our staff members would celebrate with the student when he or she returned to the table because we know that the larger goals cannot be accomplished until one truly believes that blindness is a nonfactor and masters the skills to implement that belief and the little things. Recreational activities during and outside of class time are learning opportunities, experiential learning moments, not a break from training.
Another key element in our programs is our staff members. Like master artisans, our staff members on all levels, from the receptionist to the director, believe that, with proper training, opportunity, and a positive attitude, blindness can be reduced to the level of an inconvenience. We know that students will look to staff members for guidance and support. Change will not occur, though, by simply implementing the tools I mentioned earlier. Staff members must truly believe in the importance and effectiveness of the tools and be able to help students with individual needs to gain confidence in these methods. For example, sleepshades are a critical component of our training because they teach students that vision is not essential for performing tasks. By wearing sleepshades in all types of settings, our students replace their anxiety about their vision loss with confidence. If our office manager or receptionist sees someone not wearing sleepshades correctly, they understand that it is their responsibility to talk to the student about the importance of this strategy.
Although six to nine months sounds like a long time to some, we have a relatively short time to shape attitudes and strengthen skills. We use every minute, whether during the class day or during evenings and weekends. If our residential manager notices a student traveling around the apartment complex without his or her cane, she will make the student get the cane and take the opportunity to talk about why this is important. Because our students know that staff members will empower them and not enable them, they begin to chip away at their fears and misconceptions.
Even though the three of us are directors of our centers, we know that students need to know us in order to understand that we believe strongly in the capabilities of blind people and that we have high expectations for them. Consequently, we participate in challenge recreation activities, run philosophy classes, fill in when needed for residential living, and interact with our students and staff regularly. I certainly do not want to know my students only when they come to my office with a problem. I also want my staff to understand that I believe in them and I appreciate the hard work they are doing to help our students become empowered.
It is not always easy to help our students challenge their views about blindness. As we've discussed at this conference, change is hard. But as we often hear, anything worth having is worth working hard for, and our staff members exemplify that idea. It would be easier to put all of the ingredients on the counter for a student in home economics class instead of having the student find them independently. But what message would that send?
Just like all of you today in this audience, we face challenges on a daily basis. Like you we must constantly search for funding opportunities and work on recruiting students to our programs. We also serve many students with disabilities in addition to blindness, so we need to be creative and apply our philosophy to meet individual needs. We meet with resistance from our students. Sometimes they are so anxious and fearful that they struggle to be open to our methods—the methods that we know will lead to empowerment and independence. Our students ask us why they have to wear sleepshades. They want to know why they cannot use a folding cane. They ask why they have to go rock climbing or whitewater rafting when all they really want to do is increase their computer skills.
Like you, we are here at this conference to share ideas and to stretch ourselves. But we know that as Mark Caine said, "The first step toward success is taken when you refuse to be a captive of the environment in which you first find yourself." We know that we must take advantage of every moment to give our students the tools, philosophy, and connection with the NFB in order to help them achieve true independence.
I would now like to introduce Julie Deden, executive director of the Colorado
Center for the Blind, who will share ideas on how we combine goals, tools, and
philosophy to empower our students.
Julie Deden: It's exciting, it's wild, it's challenging, and
most of all it is wonderful working at an NFB training center. Anything can
happen at any time, and it often does. Our students learn how important it is
to be flexible. Sometimes we may make a schedule change or go on an impromptu
activity. Even though our students don't realize it, everything we do serves
a purpose.
Shawn discussed the foundation of our centers, which is the philosophy of the National Federation of the Blind. Without this philosophy only a shell of meaningful training exists. Pam instructed us about the tools that are an integral part of training. From her remarks we know that these tools must be used carefully and masterfully in order to achieve the results that we want.
Working with our students and our staff creates so many variables that each day is new--filled with energy and electricity. At our centers we begin each day with announcements, and it's hard to believe that we have so much to discuss. Our students know that we expect them to be on time every day. There is no excuse for being late. Students are expected to take an earlier bus if necessary; they definitely learn that they should leave early if there is a lot of snow on the ground. Teaching these strategies isn't necessarily part of the curriculum; it is just part of life, whether you are sighted or blind.
One of my favorite times of the week is our staff meeting because we get to work together as a team in order to figure out what methods we should use to move our students and each other forward. A couple of weeks ago someone brought up Terry and said, "What are we going to do with him? He just doesn't seem to understand why he is here. He doesn't wear his sleepshades like he should and only seems to follow through with things because we want him to, not because he wants to. Maybe he should not stay here." Then someone jumped in, "Remember, Terry has bipolar disorder and is having a lot of family problems. He has always been told that he will not measure up. We need to challenge him in an encouraging way because he needs to hear that he is making progress." I am happy to report to you all that Terry is making great progress now in dealing with his blindness. In fact he encourages others to wear their sleepshades, and he is now gaining more and more confidence in himself each day. This has happened for Terry because we were all on the same page with him. Each of us encouraged him in the way he needed it. Kelly is blind as a result of brain cancer. Part of his face has been removed as he has undergone extensive therapy. Kelly was determined to come for training and had to fight to be with us. He is highly motivated, but he can be single-minded. Change is not easy for him. One morning Merle was teaching him the route to the center from his apartment. At the light rail station Kelly became very frustrated and agitated. He threw his cane on the ground and began yelling, "This is not the way I want to be taught!" Merle said, "Tell me how you want to learn. I know that you can do this, and you will. We will take our time." Merle believed in Kelly and encouraged him while at the same time letting him know that he could handle this route and much more. Today Kelly has not only mastered this, but he also takes a short cut each day where he jumps over a fence to get to the center more quickly. Kelly is flourishing.
The seemingly little things often have the most impact for us and for our students. In October we all went fishing, and one of our newest staff members was asked, "Will you show me where the restroom is?" Wayne replied, "I will give you directions." Wayne knew that this was the right thing to do, but prior to training and being around all of us he would probably have just walked with the student to the restroom, and that student would not have believed that she could find it on her own. Always keep in mind that it is not days that we remember but moments.
What do the Louisiana Center, the Colorado Center, and BLIND, Incorporated, have in common? What we have is a deeply rooted belief system--a philosophy that it is respectable to be blind. We will take full responsibility for ourselves as blind people, and we will work together to gain opportunity for all blind people.
Take the challenge to be remarkable within yourselves and the work that you do. You can make a difference. Remember these three principles:
1. Believe in blind people.
2. Challenge yourself each day–take a risk.
3. Be passionate and love what you do.
by Rosy Carranza
From Dan Frye: Rosy Carranza, coordinator of program services in the
NFB Department of Affiliate Action, delivered the Thursday, December 6, 2007,
keynote luncheon address. Youthful, dynamic, and professional, Rosy has evolved
to a mature and nuanced understanding of blindness over a short time, but has
spanned different cultures, a cross-country migration, formal adjustment-to-blindness
training at the Louisiana Center for the Blind, higher education, marriage,
and ultimately a deep and abiding commitment to the work of the NFB. Her journey
offers a compelling story and a solid rationale in support of quality residential
rehabilitation centers for the blind. Rosy’s experience will have universal
appeal to Braille Monitor readers and will particularly speak to the
spirit of candidates facing the question of whether or not to secure training.
Here is a slightly edited transcript of what she said:
It has been said that ability is of little account without opportunity. Like
thousands of other blind people, I grew up never truly knowing my own abilities.
It seemed as if blindness controlled every aspect of my life and limited every
opportunity before me. Blindness governed how late I could stay out, what books
I could read, what clothes I could wear, and which places I could go. Ultimately
I thought it had the power to determine how happy I could be.
I grew up in a large Latino family in central California. My parents moved from Mexico to the United States in search of a better life and in pursuit of the American dream. Shortly after my diagnosis of eventual blindness, their ideas for me and what would happen to me seemed more like a nightmare than anything else. Lacking knowledge of the English language and critical resources, they used their amazing work ethic, great judgment, and belief in God to steer me in the right direction. I never lacked for encouragement or support growing up; everyone wanted me to succeed. My parents, family members, and friends always told me things like “If you can believe, you can achieve” or “Nothing is impossible if you try.” These well-intentioned words meant nothing to me. I had already believed and not achieved. I had already tried, and everything still seemed impossible. I ate tons of carrots, lots of fish oil, and plenty of other nasty concoctions in hopes of restoring my vision. At the end of the day all I had to show for it was shiny hair, a great complexion, and no vision.
In every aspect of my life I felt visually inadequate. I can remember as far back as elementary school, when kids were getting together to play kickball, no one would ever pick me--the blind kid; it was always the kids who could run fast or the kids that were strong who were chosen, never me. Now, to be fair, I did have a chubby physique and short little legs, but still I'm sure I could have participated.
At family functions I never quite felt comfortable. I always worried about being able to see. On one occasion we were all gathered together to celebrate the first communion of my cousin, Nora. In my family first communions were a big deal. We would have huge parties with lots of food, music, and dancing. My cousins and I were outside playing tag. We were all asked to come back in the house because we were about to cut the cake. I had a huge glass of bright red Kool-Aid that I was using to quench my thirst. I was coming into my grandmother's house, and my vision had not yet quite adjusted to the change in lighting. Before I knew it, I had run straight into Nora. I stained her perfectly white dress. Nothing could have been done at the time to remove the stain from her dress or to remove the scar from my heart. I felt terrible, and Nora was crying. I was upset, and I knew that my parents were embarrassed. Meanwhile everyone tried to blow it off and just keep on going. But inside I hated the way my blindness made me feel.
As I got older and my vision decreased, my visual mishaps kept increasing. The most memorable blind moment came the night of my high school prom. I was not going to miss this event for anything. Even though I knew I would have trouble seeing in a dimly lit party, I wanted to go and participate. I convinced my best friend, Vanessa, to wear a