Future Reflections Special Issue: Sports, Fitness, and Blindness
Future Reflections
The National Federation of the Blind Magazine for Parents and Teachers of Blind Children
Vol. 26, No. 2 Special Issue: Sports, Fitness, and Blindness
Barbara Cheadle, Editor
ISSN-0883-3419
Copyright © 2007 National Federation of the Blind
For more information
about blindness and children contact:
National Organization of Parents of Blind Children
1800 Johnson Street, Baltimore, MD 21230
(410) 659-9314, ext. 2360
www.nfb.org/nopbc • nfb@nfb.org • bcheadle@nfb.org
CONTENTS
Vol. 26, No. 2 Special Issue: Sports, Fitness, and Blindness
From the Editor
FEATURES
So Dad, When Can I Go Surfing?
by Eric Vasiliauskas
A Lesson from Life: Take Your Cane!
by Lisamaria Martinez
FIT FOR LIFE
Get Off the Couch and Onto the Bandwagon
by Seth Lamkin
Fit for Life
by Jennifer Butcher
PHYSICAL EDUCATION (P. E.)
Me and My P. E. Teacher
by Melissa Williamson
Physical Education and Recreation for Blind and Visually Impaired
Students
by Angelo Montagnino
California Considers Legislation to Increase Blind Students’ Access to Physical Education
COMPETITION
A Blind Swimmer Uses Her Hearing and Boundless Courage to Compete
by Curtis Anderson
Seeing Beyond the Impossible
by David Wright
THEN AND NOW
T-Ball and Beyond
An Independent Spirit
LIFESTYLE
Fun, Fitness, and Family
by Barbara Mathews
Blind Kids Love Sports, Too! and Still (Sports) Crazy After
All These Years
by Tom Balek
Erica Costa, a Red Sox Fan, Stays Up-to-Date with NFB-NEWSLINE®
by Eileen B. Hogan
CAMPS
Tips About Summer Camps
by Barbara Cheadle and Lisamaria Martinez
My Horseback-Riding Camp Experiences
by Ana Gschwend
IN THE COMMUNITY
Blind Kids in Sports--Focus on Golf
by Christina Zani
Goalball--The Great Equalizer
by Vasantha Ayilavarapu
ADVENTURE
Adventure on Top of the World
by Barbara Pierce
Blind Mountain Climbers Challenge Prejudice, and Reach for the
Sky
by Kim Puntillo
Mountains to Climb: Blind Dillon Teen Conquers Baldy Mountain
by Maryanne Davis Silve and Marty Greiser
RESOURCES
What is the truth about blindness? The pursuit of the answer to this question is not some head-in-the-clouds, philosophical exercise far removed from the realities of everyday life for parents and teachers of blind children. It is not even one of many important questions--it is the only question.
Consider, for example, an ordinary life skill typically taught by parents: making a bed. Can a blind kid learn to make his/her own bed? If so, when should he/she learn? On average, how fast and how thoroughly can he/she be expected to make the bed? Is it possible for a blind person to be as efficient, as thorough, and as fast as a sighted peer? If one blind person can demonstrate equality or even superiority in bed-making, does this prove anything regarding the capacities of blind people in general? What difference will it make in the life of a blind child whether he or she ever learns to make a bed? Does the capacity to make a bed have anything to do with the larger question of whether or not this child will someday be able to get a job and earn a competitive paycheck? The answers to these questions about a simple, mundane task are all connected to what one believes to be true about blindness.
And that’s what this publication is all about: The pursuit of the truth about blindness. We--that is, the collective “we” of the National Federation of the Blind--provide our readers with all the evidence we can muster based on the accumulation of knowledge gained over decades through the collective experiences of thousands of blind people. This task is not easy for it involves busting down some tough myths about blindness. For it is these myths, not the physical fact of blindness, that are the greatest barriers to full participation in the community. The purpose of this special issue on sports and fitness is to help you break down such barriers for your son, daughter, or student at home, in school, and in the community. Of all the myths about blindness, one of the most stubborn to overcome is the belief that blind people can’t do anything physically challenging.
Some of the articles in this issue are originals and some are reprints from previous issues of Future Reflections or other publications. They are a collection of stories by and about blind adults, blind kids, parents, PE teachers, and coaches which confirm this truth: blind kids don’t have to be relegated to the swing on the playground, keeping score during PE class, or sitting at home listening to music while everybody else goes to the ballgame. Blind kids can swing a bat, race down the soccer field, rock-climb with friends, dive at the community pool, compete on the gymnastics team, hike up mountains, play a family game of touch football, cheer on his or her favorite team at the sports stadium, and more. They can, that is, if we expect it and give them lots of opportunities to practice and build up stamina, dexterity, strength, and resilience in body and in mind. This is a truth you can count on.
by Eric Vasiliauskas
Young children, whether sighted or blind, share an innate curiosity to learn about the world. This is why they constantly ask questions and want to do this or try that. While it is particularly important to create an atmosphere that actively encourages and supports a blind child’s desire to explore, sometimes such quests for new experiences can catch you off guard. This is how one such request played out.
Several summers ago, I was invited to lecture at a medical conference in Hawaii. My wife and two boys, Vejas and Petras, accompanied me. Disney’s Hawaii-based cartoon movie “Lilo & Stitch” débuted that very week. I was not particularly surprised when, after listening to the Read-A-Long audio book version of “Lilo & Stitch,” my ever-inquisitive, soon-to-be first grader asked, “Dad, what exactly is surfing?”
As we continued to drive, I did my best to explain. Vejas was already very familiar with kickboards. Before the trip we had already discussed that a boogie board was in a sense a bigger version of a kickboard that you lie down on to ride a wave. I further built on these concepts and elaborated that a surfboard was sort of similar to a boogie board, but much longer and that rather than lying on it, you actually stand up on the board to ride the wave.
Since I knew where this line of conversation was likely to lead, I decided to preemptively divert the discussion by enthusiastically reassuring him that we would go boogie-boarding later that week and that the activity would give him a sense of what surfing is. I could tell that this parental diversionary tactic was only partially successful; I’m convinced that that is when Vejas first started to dream of surfing.
A vacation in Hawaii could hardly be considered complete without attending a luau. As part of the pre-dinner festivities, in addition to exhibits featuring hula dancing, Hawaiian instruments, and local arts and crafts, there was one devoted to surfing. Vejas had never actually laid his hands (or feet for that matter) on a surfboard, so once the crowd around the exhibit thinned out a bit we walked over to meet the young local surfer in charge of the display.
Vejas in his usual fashion struck up a conversation and asked a barrage of questions about surfing. As Vejas then climbed onto one of the surfboards, I started to make wave sounds and to move the board around in an attempt to simulate the motion of waves, so as to give him a sense of what it might feel like to surf. He was visibly intrigued and excited.
My then five-and-one-half-year-old enthusiastically seized this opportunity to ask, “So Dad, when can I go surfing?” I did what I imagine many parents of a recent kindergarten graduate might do in this situation and decided I would try to “punt” this one for a while by rationalizing that as we were near the end of our trip, we would try surfing “the next time we go to Hawaii.” As a compromise I proposed that we not only go boogie boarding the next day, but sea-kayaking as well.
We in fact had a great time the following morning. We rented a two-person sea-kayak. Vejas sat in front wearing his life jacket and I sat behind him. As we paddled out into the calm bay we discussed water safety and I shared some stories from my younger days as a lifeguard. Towards the end of our adventure, a rogue wave snuck up on us from behind. Fortunately, I noticed it just in time to yell to Vejas to brace himself and hold on as tight as he could. As my adrenaline surged, I leaned into my paddle with all my might. The wave literally lifted and carried us forward as it proceeded toward the shore. We essentially surfed the wave in our kayak and to this day I am amazed that we actually managed to remain upright.
As we recovered from the excitement, I explained to Vejas how we would have handled the situation had we gone for a major tumble. It occurred to me that this was a perfect opportunity for a real life lesson. Thus, after conferring with Vejas, once we reached the shallow water near the beach, we together tipped the kayak over--on purpose. I then showed him how to right the kayak and how to pull himself out of the water and climb back in. Vejas got such a kick out of this, that upon his request we repeated this maneuver over a number of times.
Next we went boogie boarding. Only adult-sized boards were available for rent and it soon became evident that Vejas was not long enough to be able to effectively kick or to really stabilize the board, nor could he adequately anticipate the bigger waves in this part of the bay. We discovered that if he lay on top of the board and I positioned myself directly over him, I could kick with my fins and make sure we caught the waves. This way we were able to ride bigger waves together. We caught some great waves and had our fair share of spills as well. Vejas beamed radiantly as he relayed the morning’s adventures to his mother and little brother that afternoon. Yet while boogie boarding was lots of fun, Vejas knew it was not the same as surfing.
Well, as fate would have it, we decided to go on a real two-week vacation (no work this time) to Kauai the following summer. As soon as the airplane’s wheels lifted off the ground Vejas stopped reading the book his mother had Brailled for him for the flight. He turned his head towards me and in a very focused fashion extended his hand to find my face and gently guided it in his direction with the clear intent of making sure he had my full attention. (I wonder where he learned that maneuver?) He then pointedly posed his question, a question that undoubtedly had been brewing ever since we began to plan this trip: “So Dad, when are we going surfing?” I reassured him that we would look into it once we got to Hawaii.
About a week into the trip, Vejas again asked, “So Dad, which day is my surfing lesson?” I realized at that point that there was no getting around it. That evening I looked through the multitude of brochures and visitors’ guides we had accumulated and saw a promising ad for lessons by a local world-renowned champion surfer.
Rasa and I both believe that our children should have the same types of experiences as other children. By this time we had met or heard of many remarkable blind individuals and of their accomplishments. We had thus already come to understand and fully believe that there is virtually nothing a blind person can’t do if they put their mind to it. Inspired by Cara Dunne-Yates and her family, I had even taken Vejas skiing with me when he was three years old. Yet as I dialed the number listed in the advertisement, I began to imagine what the person answering the phone would think. Not only was I asking for surfing lessons for a six-year-old, but a blind one to boot. To my pleasant surprise, the lady who answered the phone with a friendly “aloha” took this all in stride. She called me back within the hour and informed me she had arranged for a private surf lesson.
Several mornings later, we woke up very early and drove forty-five minutes to Poipu Beach, where at seven a.m. we met Vejas’s surf instructor, Miguel. He had grown up in Hawaii and had started surfing at such a young age that he didn’t remember how old he was when his father first put him on a surfboard. Miguel had been on the professional surfing circuit for a number of years. He had a nine-year-old son who he had taught to surf at three years of age on this very beach. He did not seem even a little bit phased by the blindness issue. He asked appropriate questions in a tactful way. He wanted to know how strong a swimmer Vejas was and was pleased to learn he had been taking formal swimming lessons weekly since three-and-one-half years of age. He asked if Vejas had enough residual vision to distinguish the water, the sand, or the surfboard. Vejas informed him that he could only see light.
They first practiced on land for half an hour. Miguel had Vejas explore the entire surfboard. He explained that the front of the surfboard is termed the nose while the back end is called the tail. Vejas learned that the sides, or the rails, are particularly important, as that is where all the balance is. The deck is the part you ultimately stand on.
They went over the dynamics of positioning on the board. He had Vejas lie on the surfboard with his hands holding onto the rails and his toes pointed towards the tail. He then had Vejas start out in paddle position and pretend to catch a wave. Miguel described how, as Vejas first engaged the wave, he would need to position his arms in push-up position and then pop up into surf stance. (I must admit that it was refreshing for me to hear an outside person emphasize the importance of body posture and head positioning.) Then like a drill sergeant of sorts, the instructor had Vejas practice by verbally and tactilely guiding him through the motions of springing up and assuming the proper surfing stance over and over and over again until this kinesthetically was integrated to the point it was nearly automatic.
Miguel then looked at me and announced that it was time to graduate and move the lesson to the ocean. He chose a spot in the coral reef where the waves gently rolled in. Miguel instructed me to wait in the shallow water by the shore to catch Vejas when he arrived. I watched as they headed out to the water and I prepared my camera. In the distance, Miguel then guided the surfboard around so that it pointed towards the shore.
When the right wave finally came along, Miguel gently pushed the surfboard forward. From there the wave and Vejas took over. On his very first run Vejas pushed up, then moved his back foot into position, followed by his lead foot. His legs were appropriately bent and his head looked forward as he assumed a near perfect surf stance.
I am somewhat embarrassed to admit that I was not fully prepared for what followed. I was in fact so mesmerized and blown away that not only did I forget I had a camera, I literally watched Vejas surf right past me. As I cheered him on, I forgot that I was supposed to catch him. I was suddenly shaken from my trance when a few seconds later the nose of his board lodged into a sandbar and Vejas unexpectedly lunged forward off the board. Ouch!
I rushed over to him, not quite sure what to expect. Before I could ask him how he was, he exclaimed: “Did you see me Dad? I want to do that again!” You should have seen the joy on his face and the beaming sense of accomplishment that radiated from him after catching his first wave, standing up, and riding the wave all the way to the shore. He was, as we say in California, “totally stoked!” It was a storybook-perfect first run. He surfed for another hour that morning taking his fair share of spills and wipeouts amongst the better runs.
I too was beaming with fatherly pride the rest of the lesson and have to admit that it was fun to watch the smiles on the faces of passers-by out for an early morning stroll on the beach, amused as they saw this six-and-one-half-year-old kid realize one of his dreams and enthusiastically persist despite the spills. I kept imagining what they would be thinking if they knew that this determined youngster was blind as well.
Talk about a self-confidence building experience! Vejas’s accomplishment commanded an immediate sense of respect from his peers.
During parent orientation night a few weeks later, the teacher had allotted me five minutes to talk about Vejas and blindness as it related to his first grade class. I explained how for Vejas to successfully compete in life he would ultimately be held to the same standards as his sighted peers and thus it was crucial that he learn to be independent and to do things on his own. I had prepared a brief handout for the parents that included child-oriented Web sites about blindness, pictures and descriptions of some remarkable blind individuals, activities Vejas enjoyed, and suggestions on how parent-volunteers and classmates could facilitate our son’s socialization as well as promote his independence in the classroom and during extracurricular activities.
The pictures of Vejas’s summer activities were by far the most powerful part of the handout. We included these in our parent’s portion of his IEP document as well. In a way that written and verbal description could not quite do justice, the pictures of our blind six-year-old surfing immediately challenged the established paradigms of the parents, teachers, and other school staff, and even VI professionals. Preconceived notions of what a blind child is capable of began to melt away. The minds of those that would be interacting with our son were opened, allowing them to see him as a capable adventurous boy who is eager to take on life’s experiences.
It was during that same vacation that Rasa and I read the Future Reflections, Introductory Issue paperback for the first time. We read with great interest as blind adults, educators, parents of blind children, and even blind kids themselves shared experiences covering a wide variety of topics pertinent to growing up blind and to raising a blind child. Importantly, each was presented from a positive, uplifting, practical, and success-in-academics and success-in-life prospective. How refreshing and comforting it was to find such a concentration of viewpoints that paralleled and supported those we had come to develop!
One of the chapters in this introductory issue included the presentations of a panel of five blind youths who spoke at an NFB Convention on the topic of “Fun, Friends, and Fitting In.” The young panelists individually and collectively demonstrated that blind kids can do--and in fact do do--things that sighted kids do. They highlighted the importance of independence and stressed how actively working to enhance their blindness skills not only facilitated their independence, but also their self-confidence and socialization.
During the flight home I read each child’s speech to Vejas. He eagerly listened to every detail. Vejas was very excited by the “virtual encounters” with each of the young presenters who, like he, was blind and who shared many of his own interests. The profound impact that Adam, Brian, Jennifer, Noel, and Lauren had on my son soon became evident when afterwards he turned to me and excitedly and earnestly exclaimed, “so that’s why you want me to be more independent!” Indeed, these five young Federationists had managed to get across this message and ignite an internal desire to strive for increased independence in our son in a way that his teachers and we as sighted parents had not quite been able to do.
Next we read excerpts from an issue of the Braille Monitor about a large number of blind high school graduates and college students who had earned scholarships from the NFB. Even at this young age, Vejas was excited by the range of careers these success-oriented young men and women were choosing to pursue. As I watched, an amazing transformation began to take place in my son before my very eyes--a transformation sparked by the stories and ambitions of blind children and blind youth--I began to truly understand the potential power of the National Federation of the Blind.
Vejas is now ten years old and is the proud owner of his very own seven-foot yellow surfboard. He had a second lesson with Miguel a few years later and he has had several additional formal lessons with other surf instructors since then. I have to admit that Vejas looked like he was having so much fun out there on the waves, that he inspired me to take up surfing last year. I once asked Vejas which instructor he thought was the best. “Miguel,” he responded without much hesitation. When I asked him why, I was admittedly a little surprised by his insightful response: Vejas said it was because Miguel paid the most attention to detail and had the highest expectations of him.
Perhaps some of the biggest limitations the blind face are conceptual biases that most of us have grown up with. Unfortunately these misconceptions of the capabilities of the blind are relayed either directly or indirectly to our blind children even at a very young age by the adults and even children that they interact with. The NFB is devoted to changing what it means to be blind. I submit that accounts of the accomplishments of young Federationists may have the greatest potential to influence changes in perceptions of what it means to be a blind child. “Perceptual early intervention” via such peer-based stories has the potential to serve as seeds of inspiration of what is possible to other blind children, their parents, and teachers.
I thus urge more parents, children, teenagers, and young adults to take the time to write down and share your adventures and experiences to help develop a childhood-focused resource of what is possible. If enough of you do so, perhaps some day they may even evolve into a dedicated “Kids Corner” in Future Reflections or the Braille Monitor.
by Lisamaria Martinez
President, NFB Sports and Recreation Division
When I was in the fourth grade, I was in the Gifted and Talented Education (GATE) program. That particular year we learned about theater and the arts. When Christmas time approached, we put on a play called Santa and the Snowmobile. I was cast as one of the eight reindeer and had the opportunity to dance around stage during most of the songs while the elves sat at a table and pretended to build toys.
One day during rehearsal
I took the arm of a fellow reindeer and exited the stage. I had done this many
times in previous rehearsals. However, every other time the stairs were at a
ninety-degree angle to the side of the stage. Well, on this particular day the
janitors had set the stairs at a ninety-degree angle to the front of the stage.
Even though I was being guided to the stairs, I fell off the stage, and my Girl
Scout uniform was never quite the same. One thing I did not have with me that
day was my cane. The fall resulted in five stitches on my nose and a play director
who was very concerned that I would repeat my not-so-graceful exit during the
actual performance.
The director had wanted me to play an elf from the beginning, and my fall only
proved to her that I should be sitting at the back of the stage with the other
elves. However, I didn’t want to be an elf. I wanted to be a reindeer, and I
told her that. I also began to use my cane to exit off stage. I learned a very
valuable lesson that day: I learned the importance of using a cane, I learned
to advocate for myself, and I learned the importance of getting back up when
you fall down.
Looking back now I realize that my attitudes about blindness started with my parents. They never let me shirk my responsibilities because I was blind; blindness was not an excuse but a reason to be somebody. They pushed me to become the young woman I am today. They always told me that I could do anything I set my mind to do. From the very beginning my parents had a can-do attitude and held very high expectations for me.
I benefited immensely from such positive attitudes and high expectations. I took my parents’ high expectations for me and made them my standards. For example, I decided that I wanted to be involved in the sports that my peers were getting involved in. In elementary school, we had an Olympic Day, and I was told I couldn’t participate in many of the events. This upset me immensely. I knew I could do them, but I was told I couldn’t because it involved running, climbing, throwing, and jumping. The teachers and school staff thought that blind kids shouldn’t or couldn’t do these things. But, in the end, I found ways, and I made sure that my cane took me through some of those obstacle courses or led me to the next event.
In junior high and high school, I began competing in track and field events. I lost some races and I won some races. Through it all, I made sure that my cane waited for me at the end of every race to take me back to the bleachers so that I could cheer on my fellow teammates.
When I was told that I could not compete in my high school’s track meets because I used a running guide, I found a way. I learned how other blind runners competed in track and field and I went to the media and told my story. After a reporter and photographer attended my first track meet and sat along the sidelines with me, all the coaches in the division suddenly had a change of heart.
In college, like many of my friends, I wanted to experience a semester abroad. The idea of studying in a different country absolutely terrified me. However, fifteen years of positive attitudes and high expectations told me that I couldn’t bypass such a wonderful opportunity just because I was blind and afraid. So, I enrolled for a semester at the Institute for Shipboard Education. I traveled to ten different countries while studying sociology, psychology, and biomedical ethics. I proved to myself that I could and, simultaneously, gained just a little bit more confidence in my abilities as a blind person to get out there and travel in all kinds of circumstances using my cane.
The ship staff members were a bit nervous to have a blind person aboard. Before I even started my semester abroad, I was firmly told that they would absolutely not change any of the physical structure of the ship to make it safer for a blind person. I explained to them that changing the physical structure of the ship (whatever that meant) was not necessary and would most likely make things more complicated for all concerned. I assured them that with my cane I would have no problems navigating through the halls and decks of the ship. And, once I stepped foot onto foreign soil, it was my cane that guided me through the potholes in the streets of Brazil, the careening rickshaws of India, and the rugged streets of South Africa.
Today I am a graduate of the Louisiana Tech University orientation and mobility program. I am a certified cane travel instructor. In my mind, this was the most natural and obvious career choice. I want to be able to teach other blind people a skill that is so essential to my successes in life, a skill that so obviously factored into so many of my life experiences. I am also the president of the Sports and Recreation Division of the National Federation of the Blind. Sports and other recreation activities played a significant role in my early life, and still do. I had to learn to be creative in order to play alongside my peers. Through sports, I learned to advocate for myself and gained confidence in my abilities as a blind person to succeed and to achieve in whatever I set my mind to.
I am very grateful to my parents for sparking that flame, that desire to go forward into life independently with my long white cane in my hand. Through all of my experiences I learned that independent travel and movement infiltrates every aspect of life. Therefore, it is such an essential skill for a blind person to know and do well. I guess, too, I am grateful for that little knock on my nose because without it I may have never gotten to know the value of my long white cane.
by Seth Lamkin
The current trend in popular culture today is to lose weight
fast, and to do it as effortlessly as possible. Fitness ads are targeting middle-aged
adults, while politicians, TV personalities, scientists, parents, and even fast-food
chains are turning their attention to the nation’s children. Mixed messages,
yes, and it may feel like you’re sifting through a lot of garbage, but don’t
throw it all away, because it’s often the thought that counts--a growing appreciation
of fitness and personal health.
In today’s American culture, instant gratification is the norm, or rule, I should say. From high-speed Internet to one-stop-shopping to fast food: the invincible six-year-old’s Kryptonite. The current childhood obesity problem in America is a product of many things, one of which is the ease and availability of fast food. We all know how easy it is to drive up to your local fast-food establishment and order your family dinner in a paper bag, with an easy-to-tote cardboard box for the kid. According to research, they can’t help but love the stuff. Healthy eating early on “is constrained by children’s genetic predispositions, which include the unlearned preference for sweet tastes, salty tastes, and the rejection of sour and bitter tastes. Children are also predisposed to reject new foods…” 1 The key is to introduce healthy foods early and stick to them.
According to the Department of Health and Human Services, the percentages of obese kids under the age of nineteen have nearly tripled since 1980. And what do you get when you have obese kids? Eventually, you get the adult versions that become burdens on the health care system. Besides producing poor self-esteem and negative social interactions, obesity can be blamed for a variety of serious health concerns including hypertension, high cholesterol, type 2 diabetes--which coincidentally can cause blindness--heart disease, stroke, respiratory problems, and some forms of cancer.
The current trends in entertainment aren’t helping matters. Video games are a prime culprit that addictively entertains children and, admittedly young men, while keeping them glued to the couch. While the PlayStation® may be improving children’s manual dexterity, it is certainly not providing them with the opportunities for exercise and exploration that little minds and bodies so desperately need. And while studies may disagree as to whether video games are a cause or a result of obesity, the link is undeniable.
As the attacks on video games and television increase in the anti-childhood obesity movement, it may be easy to overlook the other, more innocent contributors. A study released by the Kaiser Family Foundation found that the time taken by a child’s attention to electronic media alone does not necessarily lead to decreasing athletic activity. Any form of non-active entertainment that may dominate a child’s day will be destructive--including reading. Kids today spend an average of five-and-a-half hours a day using some form of media--more time than they spend doing anything else besides sleep. 2 This is not to discourage you from encouraging your child to read, in fact, the NOPBC encourages Braille readers to be leaders in their community. The goal is a balance in activity to produce qualified, well-adjusted adults--renaissance men and women in their own way.
Unless you’ve been living under a rock--an enviable position at times--you may have noticed the enormous volume of get-thin-quick schemes. Most are obvious frauds, but the point is that an emerging American paradox is the obsession with fitness and appearance, with a propensity towards sloth and obesity. It would be funny if it weren’t so frustrating. News broadcasts warn you about the nation’s obesity epidemic, showing unflattering footage of sweatpant-clad, overweight Americans from the waist down. Then, their commercial break is littered with fast-food and sedentary entertainment ads, with the occasional Bowflex® piece. Fast-food restaurants now scramble to tell you how their quarter-pound grease bomb is better for you than the competitor’s.
But while the tension between the two sides is confusing at times, it is important to note that the fitness bandwagon is racing by, and there is no reason why you and your blind child should not be on it. According to American Sports Data Inc., over 39 million Americans belong to health clubs, and many more participate in regular fitness activity of some form. Masterfoods, the producer of M&M’s® and Snickers®, has announced that it will stop marketing to kids under twelve by the end of 2007. In 2000, the Department of Health and Human Services launched Healthy People 2010, a health promotion and disease prevention campaign to try to improve the nation’s health in the first decade of the new millennium. The attention may be due to the perceived drain on the health care system and the dollars associated with it, but in any case, even Uncle Sam is getting involved.
So the pressing need for physical education and proper nutrition is being recognized, and marketing schemes from both sides continue to fight for your fifteen minutes of attention. Now you’re wondering why you needed one more article to tell you this. Well, the answer is this: children who are blind consistently display a lower level of activity and exercise than their sighted counterparts.3 As parents of blind children, you know the hurdles to physical activity that go beyond what sighted children must face: poor self-confidence, lack of training, lack of opportunity, and a low level of expectations from those around them.
But blind people are excelling at all levels of physical fitness. The United States Association of Blind Athletes (USABA) is a community-based organization of the United States Olympic Committee, and reaches blind athletes across the country. USABA athletes have served as U.S. Olympic Team members and won medals against sighted competitors. In fact, a blind runner named Marla Runyan qualified for the 2000 Olympic Team in the 1,500 meter race, competing all the way to the finals. She also finished as the top American in the Boston and New York Marathons. As recently as 2006, she finished first at the Twin Cities U.S. Marathon Championships.
There’s a whole host of options waiting for you. Your child doesn’t have to be a superstar or an Olympian. In fact, he/she doesn’t even need to play organized sports--although if he/she doesn’t, it shouldn’t be because of blindness (as you will see throughout this issue). With the modern American parent living life by routines and schedules, many have placed similar restrictions on their children. But there is a growing movement towards a form of exercise focused on exploration and creativity: a period of time in which children are free to develop their own method of active play.
The importance of this “free play” is being recognized both at home and abroad. The Free Play Network, based out of the UK, works to counter the trend towards restrictive and overly organized play opportunities for children. Your children may not have the affinity towards traditional, organized sports, but that doesn’t mean they shouldn’t exercise. In fact, the American Academy of Pediatrics wrote a report on “The Importance of Play in Promoting Healthy Child Development and Maintaining Strong Parent-Child Bonds.” They found that free play develops creativity and imagination, builds confidence, helps to practice decision-making skills, and generally creates a better understanding of the world around them.
Getting off the proverbial couch can sometimes be a scary notion when one lacks confidence. That is why encouraging it when children are young is so important. The recklessness of youth should be supervised, but it shouldn’t be overly restrained. And while media trends may change, and even send mixed messages, the current push towards exercise and play should be seized and encouraged. So, take the concept and run with it--no really, run--and hop on that fitness bandwagon.
Works Cited
1. Birch, Leann L., Fisher, Jennifer O. “Development of Eating Behaviors Among
Children and Adolescents.” Pediatrics, Mar 1998. 101:539-549.
2. “The Role of Media in Childhood Obesity.” Kaiser Family Foundation. Issue Brief 7030. 2004
3. Blessing, D. L., McCrimmon, D., Stovall, J., & Williford, H. N. “The Effects of Regular Exercise Programs for Visually Impaired and Sighted Schoolchildren.” Journal of Visual Impairment and Blindness. Volume 87. 1993. (50-52)
by Jennifer Butcher
Physical Education Teacher
Washington State School for the Blind
Editor’s Note: Jennifer Butcher is an exemplary model of the modern PE teacher. She is also a talented and well-informed speaker, as demonstrated by this presentation that she made to parents at a recent seminar sponsored by the National Organization of Parents of Blind Children (NOPBC). Smart, young, attractive, energetic, creative--and blind--Jennifer wasted no time getting to the point of her speech: PE is about movement, and everyone--blind kids, too--can move! In keeping with the philosophy that “doing” is the best way to learn, Jennifer engaged the audience in a little physical exercise to dramatize her theme. After saying “Good morning,” Jennifer moved from behind the podium, sat facing the audience--feet flat on the floor in front of her, arms to her sides, and proceeded to take us through a rigorous workout, while we remained firmly seated in our chairs. Here’s an edited version of the workout and the subsequent presentation Jennifer delivered to her attentive audience:
Good morning. We’re going to do a small activity because you guys need to move, and because that’s my job--getting people to move. If you’re sitting really close to someone spread out just a little tiny bit. Now, put your stuff on another chair or under your chair.
What I want you to do is imagine you have a disability. I don’t care if it’s vision impairment, one arm, one leg--just think of some kind of disability that you might have as you do this exercise. Okay, so follow me. Here we go. We’re walking. [Feet move in walking motion as people remain seated]. So, does someone want to tell me where he or she wants to go? Anybody? Okay. My kids usually want to go to Disneyland. But how are we going to get there? I don’t think we’re going to walk. That’s pretty far away, so let’s fly. Put your arms out to the side, be careful--don’t hit anyone in the face. Put your feet flat on the ground. We are on a runway; so we’re going to move our feet really fast until we get in the air. Are you ready? Here we go [feet move fast as everyone pretends to be the plane moving down the runway]. We’re going to take off--feet in the air, arms out--and we’re going to fly--arms wave up and down. We’re flying. Here we go. We’re flying. It’s kind of bumpy [begin bouncing in the chair]. There’s a lot of turbulence. It’s kind of bumpy [continue to bounce, twist, arms wave up and down]. Okay, we’re getting ready to land. Ready! Feet down! And they [the feet] go fast. We land. Okay.
When we go to Disneyland we like to go on rides. So we’re going to go on a roller coaster, but it has really huge stairs that we have to climb up--high knees, high stairs [knees and legs lifted up high as if climbing up steep stairs]. Here we go. We’re on the roller coaster. It’s one of those wooden ones. So we go up and down, up and down, and around to the right, and around to your left, and move all around [bob and twist torso around while remaining seated]. It’s bumpy. It’s going, it’s going--and it stops [stop movements].
Another place kids like to go is to the park. So let’s walk to the park. Here we go. Walk your feet. Oh my gosh! There’s a huge dog chasing us. Let’s go. Run fast [feet move rapidly in running motion]. Let’s go. Oh, you see someone you know; wave to them. Oh, you see someone else you know; wave with the other hand. Okay, we got rid of the dog. You can walk again. At the park we like to play some volleyball. Put both hands up by your ears and let’s bump the ball up. Up and up. It’s a fastball. It’s a faster ball. Come on! Come on! Okay [stop movements]. Now, we like to play some baseball. Hands together on a bat and bat the ball. Bat the ball on both sides--first on your right, then your left. Let’s work on our coordination--right, left. Okay, now let’s throw the ball. Throw the ball at me; throw it. Okay.
Now, we’re going to go swimming. Put your hands together, bend over, and let’s dive in the pool. Climb back up [climbing motion with hands, feet]. That was so fun; let’s dive again. Okay. Now we’re going to go swimming. Do that crawl stroke. Now, let’s do a backstroke, and a breaststroke. Okay, we’re going to kick our feet. Put your feet up in the air, and do small kicks with your feet and move your arms, too. Guess who’s chasing us? It’s Jaws! Let’s go fast. Come on; let’s go, let’s go. Okay, stop.
Now, let’s go to McDonalds. We have our food, and guess what we do? We have a food fight! So, throw the food. That’s it; throw it, throw it, throw it. Oh, the manager’s so mad at us. He’s going to make us clean it up. Put the rag in your hand and wash the walls. Wash the ceiling. Wash the floor. Okay. Now walk again, and come to a stop. [The workout is over. Jennifer returns to the head table and proceeds with her presentation.]
This is just one example of a fun physical activity you can do with children. They don’t have to be able to see anything. They don’t have to be able to walk or run anywhere, but they’re moving, aren’t they? And that is the main part of my job--to make it fun for kids to move. In fact, it’s more than a job to me; it’s my passion.
I believe that physical exercise, recreation, and sports are vital to blind and visually impaired kids. The first reason is obviously the physical reason. I don’t need to preach to you about what exercise does for your body. It helps your heart, it helps your lungs, and it gives you the energy to do what you need to do every day. Blind kids need to move and be physical active for the same health reasons that everyone else needs to move--there’s no difference.
But there are other benefits, too, and ones that I think are especially important for blind and visually impaired kids. Athletics, sports, and recreation can give you lifetime skills that are transferable to other aspects of your life; skills that can help you become successful socially and professionally.
I have been an athlete for seventeen years. I have been a competitive swimmer since the age of seven, before my vision started going bad. (My vision began going bad in grade school and I reached the legal blindness stage in late high school. Finally, in college, my visual impairment was diagnosed as Stargardt’s.) But I didn’t stop swimming. I didn’t stop competing. Regular competitions or Para-Olympics, for me the competitiveness goes on. What I learned as an athlete throughout my life gives me the confidence and ability to stand here today. I’m a certified (and employed) teacher with a bachelor’s and master’s degree because of the lessons I learned as an athlete.
First, I learned the value of motivation. After I lost a significant
amount of my vision, there were so many times that I wanted to quit. “Why do
I have to do this? It’s not fair. Everyone else can see. I can’t even tell who’s
in front of me. I can’t see the chalk board.” But athletics gave me something
to live for; it gave me lots of reasons to not give up. Athletics also gave
me the energy and endurance to handle the headaches, learning to do things differently,
and the frustration when people didn’t understand my visual loss.
Athletics also taught me perseverance. When you do sports or compete in athletics
you learn to hang in there; you learn to keep going. There are many obstacles
blind kids will face in life because of blindness or attitudes about blindness.
Perseverance can help them overcome those obstacles. Athletics is a good way
to acquire and practice perseverance.
I learned goal setting from athletic competition. That’s what life’s all about. That’s how you succeed. You set goals. You achieve them. You set more goals. You achieve them. I set goals for a bachelor’s degree. I achieved that. I set goals for a master’s degree. I achieved that. I learned goal setting in athletics, then transferred the skill into my daily life.
But most of all, through athletics I developed positive self-esteem. Having a visual impairment can really make you wonder how you fit into the rest of the world. This world is very oriented toward the sighted. It’s especially hard for kids to figure out how they fit in. Being an athlete and accomplishing your goals and succeeding makes you feel good about yourself. It gives you a purpose. Makes you feel worthwhile. Ten thousand people watched me compete in swimming at the Para-Olympics where I won a bronze medal. Talk about a self-esteem builder. It was amazing.
So, that’s the importance of fitness, of athletics. Now, how can you help your visually impaired kids or students get moving? Let me start by describing my experiences as a PE teacher at the Washington State School for the Blind.
When I came to work at the Washington State School for the Blind I knew I had a hard, challenging job ahead of me. Most of the kids were overweight and most of them didn’t move. I heard rumors that they all hated PE--“I’m not going into that class. They’ll throw a ball at my face and it’s going to hit me and it’s going to break my nose.” Those fears were so deep that I knew that something drastic had to be done.
I began by first giving all the students some fitness tests. I used the national YMCA fitness test and the Brockport fitness test (which is designed for children with disabilities) and I came up with these results. Of the sixty-one students that I tested, fifty-four percent had a body fat percentage above a healthy limit. Seventy-six percent scored below the good standard for muscular strength. Sixty-five percent were below standard for flexibility. Forty-eight percent were below standard for abdominal strength, and ninety-one percent were below a good standard for cardiovascular endurance.
So, these statistics told me that these kids are at risk for obesity and for a variety of health-threatening diseases. These kids had too much fat mass. This didn’t mean they were all fat on the outside--it’s not what you look like on the outside, it’s what’s in the inside. It’s about fat mass around the arteries, around the muscles. You can be the skinniest person on the earth and have the highest body fat percentage. These kids needed to gain muscle mass, and lose fat mass. They needed to start moving! To do this, I needed to overcome their stereotypes about PE, and I needed to make moving FUN!
So what we did at the Washington State School for the Blind was to create the Fit for Life Program. It’s a PE class, but it isn’t. It’s more like a health club. We have treadmills, stationary bikes, a swimming pool, and a gym--anything that you would find at a fitness club. When the kids come to me, I ask them, “What are you interested in?” If a kid likes to run, but doesn’t want to run with a human guide on a track, I put them on the treadmill. I show them how to use it and how to monitor their heart rate. If another kid wants to play basketball, I say, “Okay, this is a basketball. This is how it’s really played, now let’s figure out how you can play it.” They learn to run and dribble the ball, make shots. They may not be able to compete in a regulation basketball game, but they are moving, building up muscle mass, and having fun.
In the Fit for Life Program we begin with finding out what kind of physical activities each kid enjoys, because if he or she doesn’t enjoy it, he or she will not take responsibility for it, and will not do it. Once I find out what the kids like, I teach them how to access, monitor, and perform the activity. Now they love coming to PE class. They still have to dress-out, do stretching routines, do sit-ups, and things like that--but it’s okay because we do it in a fun environment. We’ve created a non-threatening “movement” environment.
I took statistics at the end of the year just to see if the program was working. We found that twenty-nine percent of all students improved their body fat percentage. This may not seem like much improvement, but when you consider that it can takes years to change body fat percentage, I think this is pretty good. Sixty-nine percent increased in muscular strength, fifty-seven percent increased in flexibility, sixty-five percent increased in abdominal strength, and forty-nine percent increased in cardiovascular endurance.
So, the statistics show it is working, and the attitudes tell me that it will keep working. No longer do we have the “I hate PE” attitudes. We don’t even call it PE anymore. It’s “Fitness Time;” it’s very social, very movement oriented, and it’s a lot of fun.
That’s what we do at the Washington School for the Blind. So,
what can you do with your kids? When parents and educators ask me what sports
or recreation blind kids can do, or how they can get blind students interested,
I tell them to do the four Es: expose, excite, explore, and engage.
The first “E” is expose--expose your kids to physical activity. It doesn’t matter
what it is; expose them to everything--basketball, swimming, soccer, wrestling--you
name it. Most of us can watch games on TV and learn about the game, but what
about the kid who can’t see it? They need you to explain what’s going on, explain
the rules, show them, and let them try it. Your kid may not care, but that doesn’t
matter--do it anyway. They have to be exposed to lots of things before they
can find something that is exciting to them.
Which brings us to the second “E,” get them excited. Show excitement yourself, and nurture the interest your kids show in an activity. If your kid likes to play in the water, follow up on it. That interest can turn into excitement and excitement can lead to swimming lessons, and maybe even competitive swimming. So first expose them, then excite them.
The third “E” is explore. Explore ways to adapt this activity so your kid can participate to the fullest extent possible. This isn’t as hard as you may think. Some activities need little or no adaptations and some need a lot. There is no one single way to adapt an activity, either. Your child may need a different adaptation than another blind or visually impaired child doing the same thing. Be creative. Problem-solve. Don’t stop if the first thing you try doesn’t work. Keep trying until you find something that works. That’s how you adapt things. There’s no magical answer. There are specific rules regarding adaptations for certain competitive sports, but until your child gets to that point, there’s no need to follow rigid rules and guidelines. Your kids just need to explore and experience.
The fourth “E” is engage. Engage your kids in a variety of activities at many different levels. Get them to move, play with other kids from school or the neighborhood. Get them involved in local clubs and organizations. Join the United States Association of Blind Athletes (USABA). They have affiliate chapters all around the country. They can help your child develop the skills needed to become a better athlete, to become a better person. Sign your kids up for a summer sports camp. There are sports camps all around the nation--regular sports camps, sports camps for blind kids, and sports camps for disabled kids. We are very fortunate at the Washington School for the Blind in that we won a grant to have our first-ever blind sports camp on campus this summer. So, engage--find ways to make recreation a part of your child’s routine life.
So, those are the four “Es.” There is one more thing I think you need to do--help your kid find a hero. Sighted adults and kids have lots of possible sports heroes. Who’s the blind athlete’s hero? Who can be a role model for your kid? There are many athletes out there who have visual impairments who have accomplished many things--find them.
I’m really fortunate that I get to be a role model for the kids that I teach. I just say, “This is really good for you.” And, you know what? They go do it because they respect me. If I say a blind or visually impaired kid can do something, they know it’s true because I’m visually impaired, I’ve gone through the training, and I know what it takes. I didn’t win my bronze medal by chance. I worked for it. I teach them how they can work for things, too.
To summarize, remember to implement the four “Es”--expose, excite, explore, engage--find some blind athlete role models/heroes, but whatever you do…get your blind kids moving!
Originally published in Future Reflections, Volume 22, Number 1.
by Melissa Williamson
Editor’s Note: Melissa Williamson shatters more than a few stereotypes. For example, cheerleaders are typically portrayed as cute, perky, outgoing, and--of course--dumb and stuck-up. Well, Mrs. Williamson is not and never has been either dumb or stuck-up. However, she is still as cute, as perky, as outgoing--and as blind--as she was about two decades ago during her cheerleading days. Today, Melissa Williamson is an experienced elementary school teacher, a mother of three, and a well-known leader at the state and national levels of the National Federation of the Blind (NFB). In the following presentation, which Melissa made to parents at a recent NFB convention, Williamson talks about an ordinary high school coach who had no special training in matters of blindness, but who made an extraordinary difference in her life. Her advice and insights are relevant and timely. Here is what she has to say:
Sometimes as a blind person I get lucky enough to encounter a sighted person who, in regard to the capabilities of blind people, just gets it. I met one of those people in the form of my PE coach in sixth grade. He worked with me from sixth through eighth grade in the public school system where I was mainstreamed. At a time when I didn’t quite get it, Coach John got it.
Up to that point in my life I had been physically active. I was a decent gymnast and I water-skied. I played outside, but I did not participate in team activities, and I did not intentionally modify any sport so that I could play. Therefore, when the coach said we were going to play whiffle ball, which is a game something like baseball for those of you who don’t know, I thought that he meant that “they” were going to play whiffle ball. He didn’t. With some modifications, I played. The coach put people on the bases to call to me so that I would know where to run. He watched my batting swing enough to know where to throw the ball so my bat would actually hit it. I played, and because I played I came to understand how to swing a bat and how to run bases. I understood whiffle ball, but I still didn’t get it.
When Coach John said we were going to play football, I thought he meant that “they” were going to play football. He didn’t. I learned to pass a football with a sighted guide; I learned to run passing routes, to hand-off the ball, and how to receive a hand-off. By spring of sixth grade, I finally got it.
It was time for those who were interested to prepare for cheerleading tryouts. My friends were interested. I was kind of interested, but I was scared, too. I showed up for the first day of practice. Coach John, who was the cheerleading sponsor, didn’t miss a beat even though he had no idea I was coming. (My mom wasn’t even sure I was going to do it.) As he demonstrated various techniques involved in cheering, he also described them. When he talked about the various positions of hands, he showed me. He explained that jazz hands were splayed fingers. He explained that candlestick hands were hands held up like you were holding candlesticks. He showed me everything I needed to know. When he demonstrated a cheer, I stood behind him with my hands on his arms. As we worked on the cheers in small groups, he came by and corrected our mistakes. He corrected me just as he corrected the others. I made the squad both years that I tried out. Incidentally, Coach John was not one of the cheerleading selection judges.
I experienced full inclusion in my physical education class. My PE teacher understood that alternative techniques were equal for the purposes of education--even physical education. I cannot fully describe how my confidence grew from experiences made possible by this teacher--a teacher who seemed to instinctively understand that blindness is a nuisance, but not an insurmountable tragedy.
Participation in physical activities is crucial for maintaining physical fitness. We all know this. But just as importantly, participation in PE classes on an equal level with peers is a means of achieving self-confidence and, to some degree, social acceptance. Kids who play together early on have shared experiences. These shared experiences (which often turn into shared interests) can spawn friendships as time passes. Furthermore, a blind child gains an experiential understanding of sports and other recreational activities when he or she actively participates in a structured PE program. This can be a social asset in our somewhat sports-obsessed nation. But of most significance is the confidence children can gain from participating in PE. Through physical activities, children--blind as well as sighted--gain coordination; they gain the ability to move their bodies confidently and intentionally to achieve a particular goal. This impacts the way a child carries himself or herself. And, realistically, a child who moves and acts confidently is more likely to make friends and less likely to be a target for bullies.
Additionally, the skills a child gains in PE will be used in many ways, some unpredictable, throughout that child’s life. For example, I learned that when I throw a ball I should point my nose and the toes of my front foot toward the spot I intended the ball to go. It works. I became quite good at trashcan basketball in high school. You know--the teacher leaves the room and the students make paper-wads and throw them at the trashcan. I got good at it. Now I use that same skill to throw baseballs for my own kids so they can practice batting and catching. (To my kids’ dismay, however, I still can’t catch a baseball, and they’ll gladly tell you about that.)
However, more experience is needed in the outdoors than can be gained in a PE class. It’s vital that we give our blind kids the same kinds of opportunities that our sighted kids have. The other day my husband and I took our children to Chucky Cheese for a birthday party. It rained prior to our arrival so as we were walking toward the building across the parking lot, my sons began jumping into every puddle they could find--half-inch deep? Splash! Four-inches deep? Splash! They did not care. I started to stop them, and then I realized that puddles just seem to call to kids. They say, “Jump right in. Splash as far and as high as you can!” Mud puddles call to kids, too, not just water puddles. Mud puddles call to kids to muck about in it and make mud pies. Fences and trees beg to be climbed. Flowers call to be picked. Rocks call to be thrown (particularly if there’s water around). And large open spaces call to kids to run. Our blind kids need to do all of these things--to experience the joys of the outdoors to the fullest.
But for blind kids we must think outside and beyond the traditional outdoor kid play. Blind kids don’t need to have a stick bug described to them; they need to touch it. My experience suggests that that’s what sighted kids want to do anyway. It’s the same for worms, just-caught fish, caterpillars, plants, and anything else that we can imagine for them to touch. Our blind kids need to get messy. They need to get dirty. They need to get wet. They need to experience.
Let me give you a concrete example that will, hopefully, illustrate my point. I’ve heard since I was a kid that giant redwoods in California are huge. I know that these trees can be over one hundred feet tall and six feet or more in diameter. But until I attempted to put my arms around one of these trees, I had no concept of how big a BIG tree really is! Honestly, I still can’t fathom what a one hundred foot tall tree might look like. I said that to my husband last night and he said that we needed to go find one for me to climb. (My husband is one of those sighted guys who get it.) There’s no description on earth that can compensate for touch. Touch can make objects real, just as physical education experiences can make sports and concepts of space and dimension real.
We don’t just want to give blind kids the same childhood experiences as sighted kids. We want to--we must--give them more. Sighted kids don’t need encouragement to climb a fence. They climb them because they are there, they see them, and what else are you going to do with a fence if you are a little kid? But our blind kids don’t have that visual incentive, so they might need our active encouragement to climb fences and trees and play with worms. The more experiences they have when they are little, the stronger their knowledge-base about the world, and the stronger their confidence. And with this knowledge and confidence, they will eventually be ready to strike out and explore on their own. Certainly this can only help them to be more successful as they grow.
Originally published in Future Reflections, Volume 22, Number 1.
by Angelo Montagnino
Editor’s Note: Angelo “Monte” Montagnino taught movement, games, and recreation skills to blind children for over three decades. He was also, for many years, the head coach of the Association for Blind Athletes in New Jersey. The following piece is a slightly edited version of an earlier article originally published in the Volume 20, Number 4, issue of Future Reflections.
Learn About the
Student’s Eye Disorder
Check the student’s records to see if any physical limitations are imposed on
him. Take advantage of any residual vision the student might have. Find out
if the child sees better under certain lighting conditions. Some children prefer
incandescent light (yellow light) to fluorescent light (white light). Others
may desire high intensity lamps to do detail work or require a high degree of
light to best see a target, while some children are bothered by the glare of
bright light.
Use Descriptive
Verbal Instructions
Since the main avenue of learning for many blind or visually impaired children
is through hearing, verbal instructions should be given when demonstrating a
skill. Give clear, concise, and consistent directions. Say what it is you are
actually doing in body-oriented language. For example, when teaching a child
to hop, say, “Stand on your left foot, raise your right foot, and jump in the
air on your left foot.” Use directional words such as, “right,” and, “left.”
Cite large landmarks in the playing area to guide a low vision child: “Walk
to the exit door, turn toward the window.” Using terms like, “quarter turn,”
“half turn,” or “full turn,” may be helpful. Use tactual, hands-on demonstrations
with verbal instruction. Describe where things are by using the face of a clock
for orientation. For example, with the child at a six o’clock orientation, you
might say, “The water fountain is at seven o’clock, twelve feet away.”
Use Movement as
a Mode for Learning
Guide the student but do not overprotect him. It is much better for a child
to get a few bumps and bruises by interacting with his environment than to let
inactivity stagnate his body. By moving and physically interacting with his
environment, the blind or visually impaired child has another way to learn about
himself and his world.
Give the Student
Physically Active Roles
Try to avoid having students only participating as scorekeepers or timers in
a game. They need the physical activity. See to it that the blind or visually
impaired child is totally active during his gym period. Try to work the student
into at least part of the game or enjoy and experience the activity with another
student.
Allow the Student
to See or Touch Demonstrations
A child with low vision may be able to observe procedures if he is near enough
to the demonstration. For the totally blind child or child with unreliable vision,
the demonstrator or some other participant may have to position the child’s
body or allow the child to touch another person in the correct position and
give more verbal explanations. Allowing the child to perform the activity with
individual guidance is also helpful.
Provide a Fun and
Safe Environment
Give the student an orientation to the area in which he and others will be playing.
Help him discover where large pieces of equipment are placed. If equipment is
moved into a different location, help him find where it is relocated and its
relationship to walls and other equipment.
Beware of Flying
Objects
The surprise element of not knowing where the ball is going in a fast-moving
ball or flying-object type game can result in frustration and grave consequences
for the blind or visually impaired youngster.
Make Use of Partners
In many activities and games, a partner can greatly enhance the enjoyment and
safety for the blind or visually impaired student.
Carefully Experiment
Within reason, experiment and see what works best for the blind or visually
impaired student. Each student has his own unique abilities and difficulties.
Don’t underestimate his ability.
Consult
Consult with the blind or visually impaired child to determine activity preference
and to decide which activities might be safe. As mentioned earlier, there are
eye conditions that may limit a child’s activity. This should be discussed with
the parent, physician, or low vision specialist. Consultation with these persons
will give the recreation specialist a great deal of information about the needs,
interests, and abilities of the child. For example, children who are at high
risk for a detached retina should not participate in contact sports or diving.
Children with diabetes may be advised to avoid certain sports or to increase
their daily exercise gradually.
Modify the Rules
of the Game
Rules may be modified to accommodate visual limitation but care should be taken
not to alter the basic structure of the game if at all possible. For example,
in volleyball, the ball may be permitted to bounce once, or the blind or visually
impaired student may take one serve before each team begins serving. The student
will want the activity to remain as close to its original form as possible.
Use Special Equipment
if Needed
In some cases, special equipment is desirable to facilitate the full participation
of the child in a given activity. This equipment can be purchased from a supplier
or can be developed by the physical education or recreation specialist. In archery,
for instance, an auditory signal can be placed behind the target. When developing
modified equipment, it is advisable to seek the assistance of the blind or visually
impaired child. For example, the student may or may not want to use a balloon
or beach ball in place of the regulation ball.
Suggested Adaptations for Development of Fundamental Skills
Encourage the student to
move and explore.
Focus on how the body moves by bending, stretching, turning, swinging, and curling
the body by itself and in relationship to objects and other people. Help students
to become aware of their body and the ways in which it can move. A good movement
vocabulary will help the child to learn new skills more efficiently.
Teach the child to jump, land, and roll while standing in place, while moving, and while jumping off equipment. This is a good safety skill that will help the child become more confident because he will then know that he can handle himself on a spill.
Go from the less difficult to the more difficult skills and break down skills into their component parts.
For example, to teach the child to catch a ball, begin by bouncing the ball to the child from a short distance away. Gradually increase the distance. Then decrease the distance again, but eliminate the bounce. Finally, increase the distance again. A large, lightweight, soft ball will help.
Be aware of the child’s previous experiences in recreation and other areas. Some blind or visually impaired children have not developed activity skills because they were never given opportunities to participate in play. Thus, the physical education/recreation specialist may need to begin with basic skills before involving the child in regular play activities.
Limit the playing space.
Table tennis is an example of a game with a limited area that a child with a
narrow visual field may be able to enjoy. Playing games in a small gym or a
handball court may facilitate greater involvement for the blind or visually
impaired child without greatly distorting the experience for the normally sighted
participants.
Slow down the action.
For example, instead of a regular ball, a balloon may be used in a game of catch.
A child with a field loss may be able to keep the balloon in the central portion
of vision because it is moving with less speed.
Use larger or smaller playing
objects.
For example, a beach ball can be used to play volleyball. If the child has an
acuity loss he may be able to see the object when he is far away from it if
it is larger than regulation size. Also, targets can be made larger or moved
closer to the player. If the eye condition has resulted in limited visual field,
it may be helpful to use a smaller ball or move the target further away so it
can be seen in the field of vision.
Use proper lighting and color contrast.
A ball can be taped with bright yellow/orange fluorescent or black tape, so
that it contrasts with the floor and walls. A shuttlecock can be painted a bright
color to contrast with a playing court. Colored tape can be used to mark the
playing areas. Contrasting colors can also be used for table games.
As previously discussed, find out if the child sees better under certain lighting conditions. It is also helpful to discuss with the child what factors may be visually distracting. For example, some children are bothered by stripes, polka dots, certain plaids or colors, strobe lights, and lights reflecting off glass.
Games
Tag Games
Have the person who is “it” wear on the wrists or ankles an elastic band with
bells on it, or maintain verbal contact while pursuing the blind or visually
impaired student. Alternatively, you can buddy the student with a helper.
Boundaries
Provide a change in the floor texture. For example, place a rubber carpet runner
or tumbling mats next to the wall so that the child knows when he steps onto
the changed surface that he is stepping out of bounds. The change in surface
is also a warning signal to him that a wall or object is coming up so he needs
to put on the brakes. The child will move much more freely if he knows that
hazardous objects are not in the playing area.
Throwing and Catching
Before throwing the ball, give the receiver a sound clue. A bounce pass will
be easier to receive than a direct pass. Utilize large heavy balloons to slow
down the speed of the ball. The use of yarn balls, fluff balls, and nerf balls
lessens the impact of a direct hit to the body. These should be used when playing
the popular game dodge ball. When throwing at a target, provide a sound reinforcement
such as a bells behind the target. Beepers can also be used, or just have someone
strike the target as a sound cue.
Striking and Hitting
To practice striking skills, place a ball on a tee or have a ball suspended
from the ceiling. If you want the ball to move through space upon hitting it,
use Velcro. Place Velcro on the end of a rope suspended from the ceiling. Then,
place matching Velcro tape onto a light-weight ball with a bell in it. The ball
will stay attached to the rope until it is struck or hit by a bat or other object.
In this way, the child will learn about the projection of the ball as well as
how to control his hit in determining the power and direction in which the ball
will go. The student may also use a slow motion ball or large whiffle ball and
oversize plastic bat. A ball can be rolled on a table or the floor. A large
ball or a large wiffle ball with several small bells placed inside it makes
an excellent rolling target.
Running
Partners can provide safe assistance in running. They may hold hands or use
brush contact (lightly touching hand or forearm to the partner’s hand, wrist,
or any part of the arm). Another technique is for the blind or visually impaired
student and guide runner to each hold the end or loop of a flexible piece of
material. Alternatively, the loop can be placed over the guide’s right wrist
and the blind student’s left wrist. For a short run, a blind runner may be able
to run toward a “caller.” A student can also run by himself by holding onto
a rope or wire stretched out between two points. Provide a warning signal about
eight feet from each end. If tape is wrapped around the rope, the student can
quickly turn at that point and continue a shuttle run.
Body Centered or Individual Sports and Activities
These activities are most valuable for the blind or visually impaired student and require very little change. Give explicit body oriented instructions such as “to your left,” or “pull elbow into sides,” or “reach forward and then up.”
Dancing
Line dances--One line, everyone holding hands.
Novelty dances--All doing same movements in own self-space.
Partner dances--Maintain body or voice contact.
Modern or Jazz--Give student a specific boundary area that is free of obstacles.
Aerobic dance--Step aerobics and basic movements are great. When needed, provide
extra verbal instruction and up-close or hands-on demonstration.
Gymnastics
Vaulting--Start with hands on vault or use a one-step approach.
Beam--Encourage bare feet or light slippers; practice using a long strip of
carpet the same size as the beam on the floor.
Tumbling--Provide an area free of objects; create a buffer area around the exercise
mat to give a warning of upcoming obstacles. The mat should be of the best color
contrast. A verbal cue will help the student to keep going straight and be a
signal for the blind tumbler when he approaches the end of the mat.
Archery
Provide a tactual floor cue, such as a long board or sidewalk, which is perpendicular
to the target. Position the student so he/she is standing sideward to tactual
floor cue. Provide a sound cue below or in front of target. Help student zero
in on target by telling him to move bow to the left, right, up, or down. Use
large traffic cones about one-third distance to help a partially sighted student
to locate the target.
Bowling
Use a handrail with the free hand to guide bowler in a straight path toward
pins. Square student up with pins. Give immediate feedback as to how many pins
are knocked down.
Golf
Square student up with ball and target. Help the student get the side of his
body facing the target. A sound or visual cue can be used. Student should wait
for an “all clear” signal before swinging.
Swimming
When swimming the front crawl along the side of the pool, watch that the student
doesn’t bump his head against the wall. Teach him to use a delayed arm stroke
as he anticipates the upcoming wall. Make the racing lane about three feet wide
in order to give immediate input to the student about the direction of his stroke
in relation to a straight line. When diving, have the student request an “all
clear” signal before taking his dive.
Track and Field
Run tandem with a sighted guide (use “brush” or “holding” contact with a guide).
In high jumping use a one-step approach; some students may be able to take more
than one step and be successful at clearing the bar. The hop, step, and jump
and the long jump can be attempted from a standing start. Provide a sound source
from the direction to which you want the student to move.
The discus and shot-put require the use of a sound clue (clap, beeper, or counting) from the direction you want the object released. Some partially sighted students may not need any modification and some may need a visual cue to see the jump board or the bar.
Wrestling
Use a hand-touch start. Whenever body contact is lost, start again in the stance
position with the hand-touch.
Popular Team Sports
Although the actual game of most team sports can be quite difficult for total
involvement of a blind or visually impaired student, most of the fundamental
skills of each sport can easily be taught to the student and then modified games
played. The game should not be changed so much that it no longer resembles the
intended game. Placing the focus on the basic skills of the sport not only benefits
the blind child but also helps improve the sighted students’ skills. Try to
find the best position or part of the game for the blind or visually impaired
student to play and participate in.
Basketball
Focus on dribbling skills. Blind or visually impaired children can become very
skilled at dribbling a ball in different directions and while supported on different
body parts. Make up short ball-handling and dribbling routines.
During free throws, position the student at the free throw line and give a clapping sound clue while standing directly under the basket. With some exploration and trial and error, the student will learn at what angle he must release the ball in order to make a basket. If needed, tap the rim with the ball once or twice. If needed, protect the student from a rebound.
A beeper can be placed at the back rim of the basket and the student can use this sound source to shoot his basket. A small carpet square can be stuck to the free throw line. The student can dribble around the court and when he gets to the carpet square, he can then turn to the sound source and shoot. Blind or visually impaired students can also be designated special foul shooters.
When playing with a partner or group, be sure to warn the blind student of an upcoming pass. For example, “Hey, Todd,” (get attention, pause) “catch”(then pass the ball). When passing the ball, the use of a bounce pass gives additional warning.
Baseball/Softball
Practice hitting a ball off of a tee or from a suspended rope (see the discussion
earlier about using Velcro to attach a bell-ball to a rope). First use the hand
and then practice with a bat.
Playing in the field can be extremely hazardous, but some blind or visually impaired students may be able to safely play the field, especially with a good buddy.
A good choice is to be a designated hitter for both teams. The use of foam balls or wiffle balls and rubber or plastic bats can provide a much safer environment and the game can also be played indoors. Be a designated batter for both teams. Bat off tee if needed, run to the foul side of first if needed. Run with a partner. The partner is on the inside. Get behind the partner or buddy if on third.
Kickball
Run bases with a sighted guide. Avoid having someone else run for the blind
child. He needs the running activity.
Kick at a stationary ball if needed. Be a designated kicker for both teams.
A blind or visually impaired student can learn to deliver the ball in a good underhand pitch while the catcher gives him a sound clue. Have a defensive player to the side and several feet closer to a blind or visually impaired pitcher.
Soccer
If needed, a beep soccer ball is available.
Alternatively, use a box about one foot square. The child can hear where the box is sliding to; when the sound stops, so has the movement of the box. The child can easily locate the box and kick it again.
A milk carton with bells in it is also a fun item to kick and track. (Keep-away games can also be easily made up with a partner or small group teams.)
A tin can with pebbles in it can be utilized when playing outside on an asphalt or concrete surface.
Hockey
Make use of the same hitting items as in soccer.
Allow the blind or visually impaired student to use the goalies wider and flatter stick (the greater surface area will aid the student in finding the puck or ball).
Volleyball
Practice lead-up skills of volleying with the use of a large, heavy balloon.
The slower speed of the balloon gives the partially sighted student a better
chance to track the balloon. This activity could provide more success for sighted
children, also.
Modified games can be played with a sponge ball, Nerf ball, beach ball, or large balloon. Partially sighted players may stay up-close to the net, or may be able to do everything without modifications under ideal or good visual conditions. A blind or visually impaired student can be a designated server. The team gets their regular serves in addition to the designated serve. A totally blind student should be given a chance to learn all the striking fundamentals with a good toss and a strike command.
Often blind children are excluded from the physical education activities of their peers, or are denied physical activity coursework outright. It is not as if the teachers are malevolent sources of authority, bent on hurting children’s self-esteem and physical well-being. Instead, it is usually from a lack of training, knowledge, and resource availability.
In 2006, the National Federation of the Blind of California (NFB/CA) recognized a need for greater access to physical education for blind children. At their convention last year, they passed a resolution demanding such access in the form of adequately trained teachers. In order to make this result a reality, Chad Allen, the legislative representative for the NFB/CA, contacted Senator Jeff Denham of California’s 12th District and found a proud supporter of such legislation.
As a result, on February 1, 2007, Senator Denham introduced Senate Bill 168. If passed, the bill would create an advisory task force to develop guidelines for physical education teachers with blind students. This task force would be comprised of experts in the field of both blindness and physical education, and would, according to Mr. Allen, “develop a guide of best practices which will allow for teachers of physical education to become more aware of some methods already used to ensure blind children equal access to the curriculum of their physical education class.” The task force would be required to report to the Superintendent of Public Instruction, the Governor, and the Legislature by June 30, 2009.
“Childhood obesity is at epidemic proportions in our county. This bill gives local educators the tools they need to effectively teach physical education to blind and visually impaired students,” said Senator Denham.
It should be stressed that if the legislation is enacted, these
guidelines would not be standards but a resource to be used by the teachers
to best involve their blind students in physical education. “As always,” Mr.
Allen explains, “it will still be the responsibility of the student, parent
and teacher relationship to ensure that the child is actively participating
in their curriculum effectively.”
“If SB 168 passes and a resource guide is developed here in California, parents,
teachers, administrators, and counselors will have access to written examples
of some of the most successful and effective practices in physical education
with respect to blind children. This resource guide will enable students to
participate effectively in the classroom, further empowering them to be successful
in their educational experiences.”
As we go to press SB 168 has been unanimously passed in the Senate and has been sent to the Assembly where it is currently in committee. While the guide is for California public instructors, Mr. Allen expects it to be used as a model for other states as well.
by Curtis Anderson
Reprinted from the Register Guard, Oregon, Tuesday, February 8, 2005.
Editor’s Note: If you are a blind kid, like Megan Smith in this story, it’s hard sometimes to know how you stack up against others. It’s the “isn’t it amazing” syndrome--when people are amazed that you as a blind person can function in the most ordinary ways and perform the most ordinary tasks, how do you know when your performance really is extraordinary and praiseworthy? Sports competitions can provide much needed definition. Although the following news article occasionally succumbs to the “isn’t it amazing” reaction to blindness to which newspapers are prone, Megan Smith herself seems to have developed a realistic sense of how her accomplishments compare to others, and her own comments often counter the hype of the reporting. Here is the story about Megan and her swim team:
Megan Smith will have two chances to perform at this year’s Midwestern League district swim championships. The fifteen-year-old freshman from Sheldon High School will open the meet at Springfield’s Willamalane Pool on Friday by singing the national anthem. Later in the day, she will take her spot on the starting blocks for qualifying heats of both the 50- and 100-yard freestyle events.
Smith harbors no qualms about her first assignment. She is an accomplished singer and a member of the Sheldon varsity choir. However, she’s never quite sure what to expect when she dives into the pool. After all, she has been blind since birth.
“Singing is something I’ve done in front of big crowds since I was five years old. Hopefully, I’m better at that than swimming,” she said with a laugh. “I came out to make friends, to branch out a little bit. It’s been hard at times, but everybody on the team has been great. They all help me out.”
Not that Smith requires an abundance of assistance. Tenacious, determined, and fearless of new situations, she has, with minimal aid, been downhill skiing at Mount Bachelor and rock climbing in Central Oregon. She played T-ball as a youngster--she ran the bases with a sighted guide--and attends camp each summer. An excellent student who gets As and Bs in the Sheldon honors program, Smith can play the violin and flute, but has set those instruments aside to focus on singing. And now, she may have found another comfort zone.
“Megan has always loved the water,” said her mom, Beth Smith. “It’s the great equalizer for her. Even sighted people have to deal with water. I was pleasantly surprised when she said she wanted to be on the swim team. It’s been wonderful. She’s made some nice friends and found a niche.”
There were concerns, of course, the most obvious being how to prevent Smith from crashing into the wall. Most blind swimmers make use of a “tapper,” a long pole or stick with a tennis ball attached to the end. When a swimmer nears the end of the pool, a person on the deck reaches out with the tapper and touches the swimmer on the back, head, or shoulder to indicate that the wall is approaching. But Smith, who is wiry and deceptively strong at 4-foot-10 and 85 pounds, has her own solution.
“I can hear the wall,” she said. “I know it sounds strange, but the water goes off the wall and I can hear that. I’ve used my hearing instead of my eyes since I was born and those other senses have developed.” However, she admitted, “sometimes when I’m swimming fast, I forget about that. I’ve hurt my hand a bunch of times.”
That pales in comparison with what Smith endured as a child. Megan Smith met Lauren Joli while singing in the Sheldon choir program. Joli urged Smith to try swimming, and the two are now teammates, despite Smith’s blindness. Joli helps Smith navigate the pool deck, one of the few concessions Smith makes to her condition. She was born in Grass Valley, California, with a condition known as bilateral microthalmia, which means her eyes never developed. She also had a herniated abdomen that required surgery on her stomach when she was twenty-four hours old, followed by sixteen days in the neo-natal intensive care unit in Sacramento. At age two, she underwent open-heart surgery to correct a heart murmur.
The Smiths moved to Oregon before Megan entered grade school, and one of the most important reasons was that Eugene was known as a place with tremendous resources for visually impaired children.
“Megan is battle-tested and she has the scars to prove it,” said her father, Kevin Smith, a teacher at Danebo Elementary School.
“As a teacher, I see things that are missing in education today, but the special education opportunities which exist for kids are unbelievable. They’ve allowed her to lead a normal, mainstreamed life. If those things had not happened back in the 1970s, she might be in an institution.”
“You have a choice,” added Beth Smith, who works with the autism program at Cesar Chávez Elementary School. “You can sit the child on a pillow and protect them, or raise them to be independent. Megan doesn’t want to be known for what she can’t do. One of her responsibilities in life is to educate people, to let them know that being blind is not as bad as we imagine it is.”
On this subject, Megan Smith gets the last word. “Sometimes I want to tell people to back off,” she said. “It’s good they want to help, but I want to tell them, ‘I can do this, let me do it.’”
For Scott Kerr and Trevor Hoke, co-head coaches of the Sheldon swim team, Smith has provided a unique challenge to their coaching abilities, plus a level of courage that inspires the entire squad.
“Megan is tough,” Hoke said. “She wants to be treated just like everybody else, and if you don’t do that, she’ll let you know.”
At first, Hoke maintained a constant vigilance over Smith, walking
up and down the side of the pool with every length she swam. More recently,
he has been able to loosen the reins, trusting her teammates to provide assistance.
And that’s exactly what happened. During practice, they tell her “stop” when
she nears the wall, and they let her know when it’s time to begin her laps.
They adjust her swim cap when it becomes slightly askew and offer an escort
whenever needed.
At the loud and chaotic swim meets, there is always somebody at Smith’s side
to keep her posted on who’s swimming which event, and to help walk her to the
starting blocks. And even though she can “hear” the wall, they gladly take turns
at each end of the pool during her events as an extra safeguard.
“Megan has a great personality and the whole team loves her,” said sophomore Lauren Joli, who first encouraged Smith to try out for the swim team after the two became friends in choir class.
“She’s amazing. She learned how to dive off the blocks perfectly the first day, and it took some of us two or three days. And she always knows where the wall is. Sometimes we ask her, ‘Megan, are you sure you’re blind?’”
Kerr has been astounded at Smith’s learning curve. In just a couple of months, she has progressed from a “pinball machine that would bounce from the lane line to the wall” all the way down the pool to swimming “incredibly straight.” Her personal bests are 44.29 seconds in the 50-yard freestyle and 1:44.49 in the 100 free, but both Kerr and Hoke expect those times to drop significantly once she learns how to do a flip turn in competition. At one dual meet earlier this season, Smith’s time in the 50 freestyle was faster than one other swimmer, and her delightful sense of humor prompted this response: “Oh gosh, it sucks to lose to a blind girl.”
The Sheldon swim coaches have ambitious goals for Smith.
“By the end of her senior year, we want Megan to be able to swim every single event,” Hoke said. “The biggest thing for me is to make sure I don’t just do an OK job. I want to do a really good job with her and make sure she has a lot of fun. We want her to be looking forward to getting back in the water next November.”
Kerr is most impressed with Smith’s inner drive and motivation.
“Megan doesn’t see any obstacles at all, and I wish we all had that outlook in life,” he said. “When I tell kids they’re going to learn the butterfly, their first response is usually ‘I can’t do that.’ Megan’s first words are ‘Okay.’ The inspiration she has given our program is incredible, and her demeanor is so positive, she makes a rosy day for everybody. I’m sure she has down days, but I haven’t seen one yet.”
When Kerr first found out that Smith planned to join the swim team, he called a friend with the U.S. Paralympic team. For athletes with disabilities, the Paralympics are the equivalent of the Olympic Games. At the time, Kerr wanted to discuss safety issues, but now he plans another consultation once the season is over.
“For people of her ability and experience, Megan is probably one of the top swimmers right now,” Kerr said. “Who knows? With a couple more years, she could be one of the elite, and in four years, we could see Megan Smith at the Paralympics.”
While Smith, a first-year swimmer, has never even considered such a scenario, there are competitive opportunities for blind swimmers.
According to Jennifer Butcher, a bronze medalist for the U.S. Paralympic team at the 2000 Sydney Games, the qualifying time for the 50-meter freestyle in the S11 category (no sight at all) is 32 seconds, which converts to 27 or 28 seconds in yards.
“(Megan’s) times tell me that she is just starting. But if she really likes swimming, she could easily train and get there in no time,” said Butcher, a health and physical education teacher at the Washington State School for the Blind. “The (S11) class is small right now and we’re looking for people.”
Butcher was a competitive swimmer at Linfield College before she lost her eyesight to Stargardt’s disease, the same degenerative disorder that afflicts Eugene’s world-class runner, Marla Runyan.
“The possibilities for her are endless if she wants to do this,” said Butcher, who is now retired from swimming. “I competed in able-bodied swimming before I lost my eyesight and I figured my swim career was over. But then I found out about disabled swimming, and it has taken me all over the world. That’s why I get so excited when someone new comes into the sport.”
No matter what the future holds, Smith is determined to lead her own life.
“I like to be as active as I can and do as many things as I can,” she said. “The only thing I can’t really do is see. There may be adaptations for sports because of that, but that doesn’t mean I can’t do them.”
by David Wright
Editor’s Note: David Wright is serving this summer as an intern in Baltimore, Maryland, at the National Center for the Blind, headquarters of the National Federation of the Blind. He will return to school this fall to the University of Illinois at Chicago where he is pursuing a degree in Kinesiology and Psychology. David’s story about sports and competition and the role they’ve played in his young life speaks for itself. Here is David:
As far back as I can remember I’ve always had an interest in physical activities. Like any active kid, I enjoyed climbing trees, swinging from ropes (pretending that I was Tarzan), and jumping off the garage roof (hoping that I could fly). I also read a lot of books, and as a result, I had a tremendously active imagination. The one aspect of childhood that set me apart from other children was that, at the age of six, I was adopted from an orphanage in Vietnam, and only three weeks after relocating to America, I found out that I would eventually go blind.
Despite the pains and frustrations that came as a result of my degenerating vision, I was a very resilient child and adapted easily. My parents did the best they could to make sure that I received the best education both at home and in school. For the most part, my parents were pretty open-minded when it came to encouraging me to participate in mainstream activities that had to do with academics and music. However, when it came to physical activities such as sports, I was often left on the sidelines. When I asked why, the answer was always something to do with people not wanting me to get hurt, or some such thing.
I suppose I was taught early, like many blind children, that I was different and that I had no future. I remember my kindergarten teacher asking me one day what I wanted to be when I grew up. Innocently, I told the class that I wanted to be a detective, an inventor, a martial artist like Bruce Lee, or maybe an astronaut. Needless to say I went home crying that day because a lot of the kids laughed at me and asked how I was going to do those things when I couldn’t even see clearly. Some of the children thought it was funny that I dreamed of flying airplanes and helicopters.
As you may imagine I went through elementary school with very few friends, but the ones I did make were open-minded and dared to dream with me. I spent many a day at recess learning from my friends how to get into a variety of trouble: walking on top of the monkey bars, jumping off the swings to see who could go the farthest, and climbing fences. Those days of physical mischievousness helped me to realize that I really could compete physically with my sighted peers.
Despite the uneducated assumptions from so many people (including my parents) about what I could not do, I had a deep-seated determination to succeed and to prove to myself that I could be equal to my sighted peers. In order to understand the rest of my story though, I must digress a bit. My determination was severely tested in my early teenage years, a time of unrelenting depression and despair over my vision loss.
At the age of thirteen I lost the rest of my vision, and it took a few years for me to realize that when one door closes, another is opened. During the years that followed, I went through a number of pretty big life changes: I was placed into a group home by my parents, I relocated to a new and immensely larger school system, and I competed on a regular high-school gymnastics team. Although I am usually a pretty optimistic person now, my placement into a group home by my parents when they were unable to handle my depression, caused me to sink deeper into depression. I remember spending many nights lying awake and wondering what I had done to deserve this retribution from my parents and from God.
In the end, I was able to rise above my feelings of depression by diving into my academics and getting involved in as many extracurricular activities as I could. Many of these activities played an important role in developing my independence skills and my confidence. Although I spent much of my high school career attempting to find ways to avoid being at the group home, as I look back on it, I believe being there forced me to hone my level of independence. Now, back to my story.
My love for sports began with my fascination for martial arts. It seemed to me that in every mystery novel I read, all of the detectives were proficient in karate or some form of fighting art. So I figured, in order for me to be a good detective, I too must learn how to throw my weight around. I remember also wanting to learn how to play your traditional sports, such as basketball, football, and soccer. However, I was always excluded from these activities both in school and at home because of my lack of sight.
Throughout my school years, I fought the school system to remain in mainstream physical education classes. Although I managed to convince my counselors most of the time to let me in the regular classes, I was often forced to sit on the sidelines and not allowed to participate in the day’s activities. Exclusion from team building activities made me feel that I was unwanted and incapable of participating in normal sports. I lost my struggle with the school system to remain in mainstream physical education when I relocated to the group home in the western suburbs of Chicago. But when one door closes, another opens. At the beginning of my sophomore year, I discovered that my high school had a wrestling team.
Although my parents discouraged me from joining the team, I managed to gain their grudging approval with the help of my therapist. When I walked into the wrestling room for the first time, I wish I could have seen the look on my head coach’s face. Some of the other team members told me later that he looked confused and slightly annoyed, as if I were wasting his time. My coach soon learned that I was just as hard working and capable as any of the other members on the team. I ended up wrestling from my sophomore through my junior years, winning more than I lost.
Then, in the winter of my sophomore year, I was talking to one of my new friends during lunch about blindness. He was curious and amazed at my level of independence; he wanted to know how come all blind people were not like me. At one point in our conversation, I remember telling him confidently, “Other than driving, name me something that you think I can’t do, and I’ll show you otherwise.” He said that he would think about it and that he would get back to me after practice. I asked him what he was practicing for, and he said that he was a member of the school’s gymnastics team. Being interested in sports, I asked him if he’d ever heard of a blind person doing gymnastics. He said that, come to think of it, he hadn’t. He paused and then finally said, “I dare you to join gymnastics.” That day, I attended my first gymnastics practice with my friend, Brandon.
When Brandon introduced me to the coach, I asked the coach if he thought I could join and compete as part of the team. To my great joy, he said, “I don’t see why not.” He proceeded to have one of the team members show me all of the gymnastics equipment corresponding to each event. Then, he asked me to choose an event in which I thought I could succeed. After trying out all of the events, and making more or less a fool of myself, I didn’t know if I could live up to my friend’s challenge. After the first practice I was a little discouraged. The sport turned out to be quite a bit harder than I had first believed.
But after the first month or so, I noticed that my workouts were easier and that I was making progress in my performance. My coach discussed my strengths with me and suggested that I either compete on pommel horse or still rings. He also said, after a second’s thought, that I looked like a good candidate for parallel bars as well.
Each practice began with my coach explaining the routine and describing the body positions to me. Each gymnastics routine has a number of basic requirements that have to be met. Routines are scored based on a number of criteria ranging from body position to smoothness, completion of transitions, and smooth mounts and dismounts. After my coach had finished explaining a routine to me, he would often ask me to perform it in front of the team. After I would try (and usually fail) at performing the routine, my coach would lift and maneuver my body through the proper positions, all the while telling me the name for each and how long to hold each.
Although I may not have been the best gymnast, my blindness brought a brand new perspective to the way that the team learned. It wasn’t long before the coach told my team members that they should try thinking about learning gymnastics the way I did in order to truly understand it. Instead of using the eyes, he challenged them to use their other senses. My team members soon began to teach me my routines using the coach’s methods. This helped me to learn, and it helped them gain new techniques for their performances.
After our first gymnastics meet (which we won!) we were interviewed by a local newspaper. My team captain told the reporter that he wouldn’t have done as well if it weren’t for the hours he spent teaching me my routines. He said that by teaching me the routines, he had to think of alternative ways of expressing the concepts to me, which in turn gave him a better understanding of what he had to do. By the end of my senior year everyone on my team agreed that they performed better because they had learned to think about the sport using alternative methods.
Although my friend dared me to join gymnastics, he really didn’t think I could do it. But my coach dared to believe. As silly as it may sound, “seeing beyond the impossible” really is possible. Impossibilities are no more than self-limitations. With the right techniques, sufficient encouragement, and self-motivation, I was able to compete in mainstream sports. At the end of my senior year, I was no longer a novelty to the gymnastics community. When I started scoring higher than some of the “good” gymnasts, I was shown the respect that I deserved as a person competing on an equal playing field.
Enrolling blind children in sports, or challenging them to be physically active, is beneficial in so many ways. Children who are active are overall healthier and are able to focus better in school. And blind children who are active have better spatial and kinesthetic awareness; that is, an understanding of their physical position within different environments. This is invaluable later in life when it comes to independent travel. Good spatial awareness also enhances comprehension of mathematical concepts, such as height, distance, and geometry. All this is to say that physical activity (or sports) plays a very crucial role in the development of all children, blind or sighted.
Editor’s Note: Mike Uhle and his wife, Keisha, became acquainted with the NFB shortly after their son, Ryan, lost his vision as a toddler. Despite their grief, they didn’t waste any time reaching out to get information. I met them at a retreat for parents sponsored by the National Organization of Parents of Blind Children and the National Federation of the Blind of South Carolina. A few years after the retreat, they sent me an article about Ryan playing T-Ball, and we reprinted it in Future Reflections, Volume 22, Number 2, under the title, “T-Ball Rules! Father Shares Passion for Baseball with his Blind Son.” That was five years ago. I wondered if that experience had meant much to Ryan and his family over time. So, we contacted Mike and asked him if he wanted to give us an update, and he did. So, here is our “Then and Now” story--the original T-Ball article followed by Mike’s reflection on that experience and the impact it had on the father-son bond:
THEN…..
Through his father’s eyes
Rob Novit, staff writer
Reprinted from the May 5, 2002, Aiken Standard, Aiken, South Carolina
The players, all of four-, five-, and six-years-old, race onto the field at Graniteville’s Gregg Park--a spring in their step, their caps pulled low to protect against a late afternoon sun that tinges their matching red shirts with an orange glow. It’s a timeless moment in small town USA and of course it’s about baseball, a game only a few decades younger than America itself.
In short right, a small boy named Ryan Uhle pounds his glove and places himself in good position. Nearby, his dad Mike soaks it all in proudly, smiling and laughing with uncomplicated delight. Mike Uhle was a multi-sport athlete at Aiken High as a teenager, but baseball was always his thing. And years later, when his wife Keisha gave birth to their first child, Mike held Ryan in his arms and could envision a future for his son a lot like his own.
“I had definitely wanted a boy so he could play sports,” said Mike. “I love baseball and when the TV is on, I’d rather watch baseball than anything else.”
Without warning
Ryan was just six months old when he was diagnosed with retinal cancer and in
the course of treatment over the next year, his right eye was removed. The prognosis
for the left eye was very good, but a large tumor appeared unexpectedly when
Ryan was two. During chemotherapy his retina detached and could not be repaired.
The little boy had beaten the cancer, much to the relief and joy of his parents.
But now they had to accept a new reality.
“Even with this form of cancer, we never imagined Ryan would be blind,” said Keisha Uhle. “We just thought he would be a one-eyed kid the rest of life. We had a plan in our heads of how we hoped our child’s life would be and then our expectat