The National Federation of the Blind Magazine for Parents and Teachers of Blind Children
Volume 27 Number 2 Cane Travel and Independence
Barbara Cheadle, Editor
ISSN-0883-3419
Copyright © 2008 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
Volume 27 Number 2 Cane Travel and Independence
FROM THE EDITOR
WHO NEEDS A CANE?
Blind Enough for a Cane?
by Carrie Gilmer
Mobility: Kyra Prepares for High School
by Barbara Mathews
From Tumbles to Triumphs: Using a Cane from a Wheelchair
by Treva Olivero
Kendra’s Sonar
by Stephanie Kieszak-Holloway
Big Brother has a Cane; Little Sister Wants One, Too
by Carrie Gilmer
How I Learned to Stop Worrying and My Daughter Learned to Love the Cane
by Patricia Renfranz
INSTRUCTION
Step Toward Equality: Cane Travel Training for the Young Blind Child
by Fredric Schroeder, PhD
O&M Assessments: Erring on the Side of Positive Expectations
by Douglas C. Boone
A Good Orientation and Mobility Program in the Public Schools
by Denise Mackenstadt, NOMC
TOOLS AND TECHNIQUES
My Introduction to Sleepshades and Independence
by Craig Eckhardt
Stepping Out: One Mom’s Sleepshade Experience by Connie Bernard
Common Questions about Canes and Cane Travel
Street Crossing with Lights: Basic Skills
by Doris Willoughby and Sharon Monthei
Public Places: Going through Buffet Lines, Carrying Trays, and Using Elevators
and Escalators
by Maria Morais, Paul Lorensen, Roland Allen, Edward C. Bell, Arlene Hill, and
Eric Woods
PHILOSOPHICAL FOUNDATIONS
Mobility: Whose Responsibility Is It?
by Gary Wunder
The Promotion Model
by Joseph Cutter
Structured Discovery in the Classroom
by Edward Bell, PhD
The Nature of Independence
by Kenneth Jernigan
JUST FOR FUN
Almost 101 Ways to Decorate Your Cane
by Cortney Osolinski
The Night Search
Review by Peggy Chong
CHALLENGE FOR THE FUTURE
Quiet Cars and Blind Pedestrians: Problems and Progress
by Barbara Pierce
RESOURCES
For thousands of parents and friends of blind children, PARENT POWER means membership in the National Organization of Parents of Blind Children. The NOPBC is a national membership organization that provides vital support, encouragement, training, and information about blindness to members and to the broader community. As an affiliate of the National Federation of the Blind, the NOPBC is a bridge that connects families to blind role models and mentors. NOPBC is also a vehicle for expanding resources for parents, changing public attitudes about blindness, and creating greater opportunities for blind and visually impaired kids everywhere. Your NOPBC membership matters. NOPBC is a 501(c)(3) not-for-profit organization.
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In the National Federation of the Blind (NFB), we have a saying: “We are changing what it means to be blind.” I think there is no more visible evidence of this truth than the pride and joy an unprecedented number of modern parents of blind children take in their children’s use of the long white cane. Because of the Federation’s work, the long white cane--once viewed as a symbol of the pitiful, helpless blind person--is increasingly viewed with admiration and respect as the tool which provides freedom, mobility, and independence for the blind.
But the NFB’s influence goes far beyond that of changing attitudes, incredible an accomplishment as that is. The NFB creates new cane designs, and it was the first organization to design and market kid size canes. For decades, the Federation has been stimulating and/or nourishing the development of new cane techniques and instructional approaches for adults and children. And the evidence is mounting--our canes, our approaches, and our techniques achieve superior results when implemented by instructors and parents who are grounded in the Federation philosophy of normalcy and high expectations.
The purpose of this special issue is to bring together, for the benefit of
parents and teachers, a sampling of Federation and Federation influenced approaches
to cane travel for children from birth through the teen years. The issue contains
practical information, descriptions of specific techniques, personal stories
from parents, and thoughtful philosophical discussions that probe the meaning
of true independence and responsibility. We answer specific questions: Who needs
a cane? What does a good cane travel or orientation and mobility program look
like? What does a good O&M assessment include? When should a child get a
cane? What kind of cane? What role do parents and others play in this process?
What about blindfold (sleepshade) training? These and many other practical questions
are addressed by material from well-known award-winning educators and authors:
Dr. Fred Schroeder, Joe Cutter, Doris Willoughby, Dr. Eddie Bell, Doug Boone,
Denise Mackenstadt and others. If there are inconsistencies, they are only indicators
of the dynamics of evolving knowledge and experience within the Federation.
What you will not find in this issue is a discussion about Global Positioning
Systems (GPS) or echolocation training. As you can see, our special issue was
quickly turning into a small book. We can’t even say that we have covered all
of the basics thoroughly--that’s why we included the Resources section. We urge
you to buy one or more of the recommended books, DVD’s, and/or do further reading
from the recommended articles list.
The issue concludes with sections on Just for Fun and Challenge for the Future.
The challenge for the future--the impact of quiet cars on independent travel--is
one the NFB is taking aggressive steps to address, and we invite our readers
to get informed and get involved.
by Carrie Gilmer
Until Jordan was eight years old he walked bent over, not unlike my ninety-year-old grandmother whose spine was severely humped from osteoporosis. Jordan also walked with a slow, halting gait. All of his energy was focused on the ground in front of him. He was nervous and scared to cross the street by himself. He constantly reached for my hand when we were out in public. He was especially nervous in parking lots. I was becoming more and more concerned; this wasn’t what my other children did when they were nine.
At elementary school he could find the office, follow the line to the lunchroom and carry his own tray to the table, and he could follow the line to the bus. He could also follow the line to the playground, but once there he often stayed in one spot and played alone. Everyone at school thought he was doing really well. His orientation and mobility (O&M) instructor said he was doing great. What took us some time to realize was that they all thought he did really well--for a blind kid. Part of me wanted to rebel against these low expectations, but part of me wanted to be proud that he did so well--for a blind kid.
My husband and I didn't know any independent blind people. We had never seen anyone use a cane. No one had ever mentioned to us that Jordan should use one. I assumed that he wasn't given a cane because he wasn't blind enough. But here we were, faced with this fact: Jordan might be at the top of the heap of blind kids for independent mobility, but he was at the bottom of the heap of sighted kids. This meant that in his daily life he was always at the bottom because he was the only blind kid around.
In the spring of second grade, my concern about him being at the bottom of the heap day in and day out compelled me to go to the local NFB chapter. Judy Sanders, a totally blind woman from birth, volunteered to come to meet us and visit his school. I picked her up at the nearest bus station to Jordan's school. She traveled independently using a long white cane. She had never been to our neighborhood before, but it was no problem for her to find her way from the big city to the suburbs, from the bus to my car, and from my car through the parking lot into the school. I was very excited to see such normalcy in my first meeting with a real blind person. I thought she was definitely at the top of the blind heap, and I also thought she mixed in normally with the sighted heap; she traveled equally with me, anyway. I thought maybe she was allowed to have a cane because she was totally blind.
As we left the school, Judy told me about a national convention of blind people coming up that summer in Atlanta. She said there would be thousands of blind people there. She said it would take me years to learn what I could learn at this convention in one week. We decided to go, Jordan and I. When we got there, one of the things we found out was that not only could Jordan have a cane, he should have one. Joe Cutter (a nationally known expert in children's travel) told him that the cane is like a third eye on the ground. Jordan got his first cane and almost immediately his posture completely changed. He walked erect; chin up. He didn't grab for me on the stairs or at the curb as we walked around downtown Atlanta. I realized then that his spirit had been as bent over as his posture had been. I had a good cry.
After we got home from Atlanta I made him take the cane regularly whenever he went out. But I noticed that it was like he now had a big neon sign that said BLIND KID. He was a curiosity; he really stood out. I'm sure most of these people had never seen a blind kid with a cane before; I never had. I had the strange feeling of being glad for his blindness; glad that is, that he couldn't see all the people staring at him.
At first I wasn’t totally convinced that it was right to ask him to take the cane everywhere.
He almost never tripped or fell but, on the other hand, he always walked cautiously and never ran. I just couldn’t comprehend how his O&M instructor, the teacher of blind students, had never even mentioned the cane as a possibility for Jordan. I told the president of the NFB of Minnesota, herself a blind person who had grown up with partial sight, that every time I told Jordan to take his cane I had the weird feeling I was parking in a handicap zone without the tag.
But everything I had seen and heard and felt at convention told my gut that these blind people were totally right. They knew what they were talking about. They lived what they were talking about. I decided to trust them and do exactly what they said, and I mean exactly. Today I thank God over and over that I did.
At first, Jordan would forget the cane; he wasn’t used to thinking about it, but I would remind him. His posture continued to improve and he seemed less anxious overall about everything, not just travel. But he got very little instruction in how to use the cane from our school. The teachers let him carry the cane, but they still wanted him to use his vision primarily for travel. His technique seemed similar to what I saw other blind people do, so I just let him use the cane and explore with it. He soon discovered he could use it to tell the depth of snow and puddles and the height of ceilings among other things.
Before too long though it became clear that Jordan didn’t grasp the cane’s full potential; he needed some good training. Sometimes I caught him bending over, looking at the near ground while holding the cane up or out instead of on the ground. So, we sent him to the nearby Buddy Program; a camp for blind children run by BLIND, Inc., an NFB training center that was located not far from us in Minneapolis. There he learned how to travel with a cane under blindfolds, or sleepshades. He didn't completely comprehend what the cane could do for him or fully trust it until he experienced this sleepshade training. Once he understood what the cane could do and trusted it, he discovered that he could walk without fear and use his vision to look around at the buildings, trees, sky, or the person next to him. He learned how to rely on the cane for information about what was just in front of him, and to use his vision for gaining other information—usually just pleasurable—because now he could look up and out and around.
Since then, Jordan has gone all over town and all over the United States with cane in hand. He rarely walks beside me anymore, which is the norm for a teenager. He walks near me now only when it is normal to do so, like at the state fair, in a crowded museum, or at a holiday-packed mall. Usually, however, we have to yell at him to wait for the rest of us.
Through the years we have also become used to public reaction to the cane. We have learned through our NFB friends how to handle it. Here’s some of the worst examples: Once, a mother literally yanked her two young children out of Jordan's path and screamed at them to watch out, "That kid is blind!" (I was tempted to call child protection to report her treatment of her own children). In a mall parking lot a man went on and on and on about this amazing blind person he had met once on a Scout trip. A couple of times store clerks have accused Jordan of pretending to be blind. Some people are overly solicitous and try to help without being asked. Some people dramatically, but silently, move away. Some act panicked and over-apologetic if they should bump into, or be touched on the foot by, the cane. It’s common for little kids to ask what it is. A few young children wonder where they too can get one of these cool white sticks. Kids are usually delightful. These are not uncommon experiences for the independent cane traveler. Because we witnessed and experienced these with him, we were able to discuss what had happened and use it as a learning opportunity for him to develop self-advocacy skills.
At times it seemed that it might be easier to just let him leave the cane at home. Easier for us, his parents, that is. But this wasn't about us. It wasn’t Jordan who should be ashamed or embarrassed in these public encounters. The NFB helped us realize that it is respectable to be blind. It was ignorance that led to disrespect and fear on the part of the public. Instead of hiding the cane or leaving it at home, we taught Jordan and others that the cane is a respectable tool of independence. I was consistent and firm. It was like needing a coat when the weather was cold or rainy: his blindness called for a cane, and it was as simple as that. Leaving it at home would have denied him practice and self-discovery, including learning how to handle those incidents with the public.
Through constant use, Jordan has come to be a confident and proficient cane traveler. Using the cane is as natural and normal and routine to him as brushing his teeth or wearing shoes. It has become so natural to him now that the only way he can articulate how it works for him is in these words, “It is an extension of my body.” He can problem-solve in new environments. He can nonchalantly explain its use to the general public (all ages). He handles people's awkwardness with humor and quickly puts them at ease. He feels comfortable with it, uncomfortable without it. He is fully integrated into the heap. (I no longer think of it as the sighted kid or the blind kid heap; it’s all one, now).
This year when Jordan brought his class pictures home I noticed that he held his white cane proudly across his chest in the picture. He had never done this before. When we had started down this road the one thing we were determined about was that we never wanted Jordan to be embarrassed about who he is. We had succeeded. I cried again--this time they were tears of joy.
Carrie Gilmer is the secretary of the NOPBC and president of the POBC of
Minnesota. She and her family live in the Minneapolis metropolitan area.
by Barbara Mathews
My daughter, Kyra Sweeney, will start high school in a few months. It’s a huge school with three thousand students and multiple buildings spread out over a couple of acres. So mobility is on our minds.
We all like to tout the skills and accomplishments of our children (and, implicitly, I suppose, our own). Well, here’s an admission: mobility is not Kyra’s greatest skill. We have a couple of excuses. One is that she seems to have inherited my sense of direction, or lack thereof. Those “You are Here” signs just confuse me. And at our vacation home in the mountains, I swear the sun rises in the west. Another reason is even harder to admit. It’s that we’re busy. We’re often in a hurry. It’s usually quicker just to guide her.
But I’m not really concerned about how she’ll get around in high school. Why not? Because, with the help of the NFB, we have actually been preparing for a long time. Here are some steps along the way that I remember most vividly.
Wake-Up Call at Convention: When Kyra was four, we attended the NFB national convention in Dallas. It took place in a big hotel in the middle of the Dallas-Forth Worth airport. The hotel is no longer there, but some readers may remember the long, long hallway connecting the two towers. We were walking down that hallway. Kyra was holding my hand. Along came a blind mom and her blind daughter, who was probably under two years old. They were not holding hands. The daughter was walking independently using a cane. She seemed to be having fun walking by herself. They passed by us. I realized I was doing something wrong. Kyra was already behind where she should be. We bought an NFB cane and, since that day, Kyra has not left the house without her cane.
Big Step into Middle School: Three years ago, we were preparing for Kyra’s transition to middle school. It’s also a big, sprawling school with twelve hundred kids. She was coming from a small elementary school where she had more help than she needed, or we wanted her to have, from staff and friends. Three things made a difference in developing her independence. First, we developed an IEP goal that she would have mobility lessons on campus during the summer. She went every day during the week before school started to learn her way around. Second, we had it written into the IEP that she would get her class schedule before school started, so that her mobility lessons could include learning the routes to her classes. For reasons that escape me, getting the class schedule early is always harder than it should be. But we kept after the counselor, and got the schedule a bit early. Finally, and most importantly, Kyra was motivated to learn. She did NOT want an aide or a classmate guiding her from class to class.
I will never forget the first day I dropped her off and watched her walk by herself down a long, outdoor corridor. I wondered if she would remember where to make the left turn toward the classroom. She did. I was very proud.
Taking Ownership: Kyra recently returned from her eighth grade trip to Washington, D.C. When she, together with two good friends, boarded the plane to come home, the flight attendant tried to take her cane, saying “Your nice friends can help you.” They all laughed; Kyra said, “No, thank you,” and they proceeded down the aisle. When she told me about it, I said, “You should have said, ‘They won’t be able to help me if they’re dead.’” But we agreed that might have sounded a little harsh. I was really thinking, “All those times I embarrassed even myself by insisting that she keep the cane with her--it paid off; the lesson did sink in!” And beyond that, even her friends get it.
Finally, we have not depended entirely on school mobility lessons to teach travel skills. Summer is a great time to take advantage of other opportunities to learn. When Kyra was ten, she first went to Buddy Camp at BLIND, Inc. She went for two more summers. This summer she is planning to go to the middle school program at the Colorado Center for the Blind. It’s a great way to make friends, as well as to boost mobility skills. [Note: Both of these programs are owned and operated by the National Federation of the Blind.]
Here are some lessons learned:
Have your child start using the cane when she is very young. It will become a habit before she realizes it’s “different.”
Convey a positive attitude about the cane. Help the people around her understand that the cane is not only essential; it’s a symbol of independence and pride. When people call it her “stick,” I say, politely I hope, that it’s called a cane, then go on to respond to whatever point they’ve raised. It’s a matter of respect. It’s also a matter of remembering that part of “changing what it means to be blind” is teaching others. Our children are ambassadors from the blind community to the sighted world.
Take the time to let the child travel independently. There’s a story about an old man walking through the forest who sees a young man cutting down trees for firewood. He watches a while, then says, “Young man, if you’d sharpen that saw, you could get the job done faster and better.” The young man responds, “I don’t have time to sharpen the saw. I have to get this all done by sundown.” When we are impatient, and we don’t take the time to let the child learn and explore moving around independently, we’re not thinking logically about the future.
Be a pest about the mobility lessons and “cane rights.” It’s hard sometimes to keep after educators. It takes time to learn about the rights you have. But it’s worth it, and sets a good example of self-advocacy skills that your child will need when she leaves home. An aside on that: No school or mobility instructor has the right to tell your child what kind of cane to use or when she can use it. You should buy the cane (or canes--having a spare around comes in handy) yourself. Canes are not expensive. They are easy to order from the NFB Independence Market (<www.nfb.org>). If the mobility instructor insists on teaching with a different type of cane during lessons, you can decide whether to fight it or not. If they try to tell you what kind of cane your child should use otherwise, you can laugh and say, “No, thank you.”
By the way, and this is especially important in the teen years, Kyra’s friends have opinions on which canes are “cool.” Needless to say, the sleek long white NFB cane is cool; those short heavy canes are not.
Kyra’s IEP meeting is coming up soon. I have requested that an administrator from the high school be present so that we can include provisions for getting her class schedule early and mobility lessons on campus before school starts. I’m prepared to work through the summer to make sure the promises are carried out. And on September 2, I plan to drop her off at school at 7:00 a.m. and watch her head off to her first class--probably Marching Band--with her backpack, her lunch, her flute, and her cane.
Barbara Mathews is a member of the board of the National Organization of Parents of Blind Children and the president of the California Parents of Blind Children Chapter of the NFB of California. Her family lives in Santa Monica.
by Treva Olivero
Although my parents tried to shelter me when I was growing up, I inherited their self-determination, which in turn fueled my desire to be as independent as possible. My parents exhibited their self-reliance by rarely asking for assistance. They didn’t file for Supplemental Security Income (SSI) for me, even when they were eligible. In financially difficult times, instead of asking for assistance from extended family, the church, or the government, my Mom got a second job to help support the family. When my siblings were older, they were also expected to get jobs and be independent. But for me, the standard was different. Although I didn’t want to rely on the government, my parents urged me to apply for SSI when I turned eighteen. Even after I demonstrated my ability to listen for traffic and make good travel judgments, they wouldn’t allow me to travel independently on the rural road on which we lived. However, despite what they said, I chose to follow their determined example of self-sufficiency and refused to let my disabilities get in the way of my desire for independence.
I was born legally blind, and for me my blindness has always just been another part of my life. I haven’t always known how to deal with situations surrounding my blindness, but I do not dwell on what life would be like if I weren’t blind. However, I haven’t always been in a wheelchair. When I was five years old, I was diagnosed with a bone disease, but I could still walk until age eleven when my right leg was amputated above the knee. Although I went through physical therapy, I was never really able to walk normally, and I have used a wheelchair ever since. I didn’t want to let being in a wheelchair stop me, but I always wished for the ability to walk again.
Throughout high school and college, I “got by” mostly by using the little remaining vision I had. However, after toppling down several flights of steps and falling off of a curb into a busy street, I had to admit that my vision was getting worse, and that it was no longer reliable. For a while I dealt with this by limiting my activities and only going to familiar places. When I did travel to an unfamiliar place, I usually had a sighted person with me to push my chair, but this took away more independence. I continued to “get by” until I attended my first National Federation of the Blind convention in Louisville in 2002. There I met a blind man who successfully used a cane from his wheelchair to independently navigate the hotel. This surprised me; I had always thought that I couldn’t use a long white cane in a wheelchair. During high school, my orientation and mobility instructor told me that instead of using a cane I should put a tall pole with an orange flag on the back of my chair so that people in cars could watch out for me. I never did this, not only because the flag looked ridiculous and was extremely cumbersome when I traveled indoors, but this solution took responsibility for my safety out of my control. I was amazed at the idea that I could travel with a cane. I immediately bought an NFB cane and started using it while I was at the convention. I felt free to travel on my own. I didn’t have to wait for my co-workers or look down and strain to see the curb cuts; I was no longer limited in my travels. It took me a while to adjust to using a cane, but I persisted because my independence is valuable to me. Since I first started using a cane, I have learned some tips through trial and error that have helped me be successful in my travel, and I want to share these with you so that you can help your child:
1. Your child can use a manual chair and a cane. I prefer a manual chair because of the portability of it. Because I don’t have a car, I need a wheelchair that can just fold up and fit into almost any vehicle. The way I use my cane is by grasping the handrims of my wheelchair with each hand while at the same time grasping the cane in my right hand. This way I can still push both wheels while holding onto the cane and arcing it with my right hand.
2. Training in the techniques of nonvisual travel is essential. I have not had extensive training with sleepshades, but I have discovered that when I do activities nonvisually, I am more observant of my surroundings. I wish I had gotten training using sleepshades in high school or before I went to college because I know from my blind friends who did, that it would have significantly increased my confidence.
3. Find the cane that works. I currently use a sixty-one-inch fiberglass NFB straight cane. The length of the cane helps me to make a wider arc, and the narrow handle works best for me because I can grip it and the handrim on my wheelchair at the same time. I didn’t start out by using a straight cane because I thought it would be easier to store a telescoping cane, but I became frustrated with my cane randomly collapsing. Now, after using the straight cane for a while, I have discovered that it really works well and the inconveniences are minor.
4. Make your home wheelchair accessible. Your child needs to be able to get into and around the house independently just like any other child. For a while, my parents just carried me up the steps, but this limited my independence because I couldn’t go outside on my own. Eventually they made the necessary changes, and then I could come and go freely.
5. Sometimes it’s better to not use your cane inside. Just like many other blind people who are not in chairs, I have discovered that in familiar places, such as my home, I don’t use the cane. But I don’t always use it in unfamiliar places, either. For example, it’s easier to go through interior doors, which are usually not very wide, without the cane in use. I tuck my cane under my chin and grab onto the doorframe with my hands. I can feel where the door is, line myself up, and sometime just pull myself through the door.
6. It’s okay to travel slowly when necessary. For safety, I will slow down when I am on a downhill slope or when I come to an intersection and need to find a curb cut.
7. Educate others. People don’t understand how I travel independently, so I will talk to them about it and explain to them how my blindness and being in a wheelchair are not barriers for me. For example, recently I was out shopping with my husband when I encountered a man who was trying to give me directions to a ramp. He had seen me stop just before getting to a flight of stairs. He was extremely worried that I was going to fall down the stairs. I explained to him that I was using my cane. He was trying to tell me how to get to the ramp, but his directions were horrible. I explained to him that I would find the ramp by myself by using my cane. I told him that if I discover it myself, it will help me when finding the same ramp in the future. He left me alone, and I successfully found the ramp and was on my way.
8. Let your child be independent. Don’t push your child’s wheelchair just because you don’t think he or she can travel independently. Sometimes I let my husband Tony (he’s blind, too, but does not use a wheelchair) push me because it is the best way that we can walk together “arm in arm,” but I value my independence. For example, when you’re at the mall with your child, he or she will most likely want to be independent, so don’t take this away by pushing your child’s chair.
My final advice: Don’t limit your child just because of blindness and being in a wheelchair. It may be doubly tough to get stared at in public while your child learns how to wheel and cane at the same time, but just remind yourself that your child will someday thank you for believing in him or her. I’m independent and your child can be, too.
Treva Olivero is the coordinator of the Mentoring and Outreach project of the NFB Jernigan Institute. The job requires out-of-state travel about twice a month. She lives in Baltimore with her husband Tony.
by Stepanie Kieszak-Holloway
--From an entry in the journal I keep for my daughter, dated February 2, 2007:
Today Kendra and I read a book called The Little Sailor. It’s about
a submarine and it has buttons to push for sound effects. One of the sounds
is sonar. She and I started talking about how her cane is like sonar because
it tells her what’s in front of her the same way the sonar tells the submarine
captain. Then she started saying, “Tap, tap, tap, tap.” I asked her, “What’s
that sound?” and she said, “It’s Kendra’s sonar.”
Before my daughter Kendra was born, I would never have described myself as being particularly assertive. However, having a blind child forced me to learn to speak up for the things I knew she needed and deserved. Sometimes that meant going against the status quo. Sometimes that meant I had a bunch of experts angry with me for challenging them. And sometimes that meant that I had to push forward on my own to obtain the things I knew Kendra needed. Thus began the history of our personal “cane wars.” I think my husband Richard and I both felt like we were, at times, fighting a losing battle. We knew we wanted Kendra to have a cane as soon as possible. Why was it so difficult to convince others that we were making the right decision? Perhaps our experiences will smooth the way for other parents.
Kendra started walking when she was fifteen months old. At the same time, my husband and I began talking about getting her a cane. We did not receive any support from the agency we were working with so I contacted the National Federation of the Blind’s (NFB) parents division, the National Organization of Parents of Blind Children (NOPBC), to ask for advice; and I was given Joe Cutter’s phone number. Joe is a nationally recognized specialist in pediatric orientation and mobility (O&M). Our first phone conversation lasted over two hours. It was such a relief to talk to him and to receive confirmation that we were not insane for wanting Kendra to have a cane at such a young age. It’s very easy to start to doubt yourself when all the “experts” are telling you that you’re wrong. Joe was the sounding board I needed. He also suggested several books and articles for me to read so I’d be better prepared to handle comments like, “Your daughter will learn bad habits with the cane if you give it to her so early,” or “Get her a pre-cane device if you think she needs to have something.” Joe made one particular observation that has stayed with me through the years. He talked about how the universe for a blind baby is limited to what is within arm’s reach. If you give that child a cane or even a long wooden spoon to reach out with, then suddenly that child’s universe has expanded. How could this possibly be considered a bad thing?
Over the years, we have met others through the NFB who have convinced us that we made the right decision. Richard and I met Fred Schroeder at an NFB of Georgia state convention one year and talked to him about cane use for young children. Fred is currently the first vice president of the NFB. I have read several pieces about and by Fred and was struck by his statement in a 1989 Future Reflections article about how keeping a cane away from a young blind child was like keeping crayons away from a young sighted child:
The traditional thinking in the field is that giving a cane to a very young child will result in the child’s developing bad habits which will need to be remediated later on. We have found this concern to be wholly vacuous and perplexing by its lack of understanding of child development. It would certainly be an exceptional two-year-old who would hold a crayon in the same manner as an adult holds a pencil. Nevertheless, it is recognized that a young child’s early scribbling is providing good practice in the development of the fine-motor skills which will eventually enable him or her to hold a pencil properly later on. To deny a child of early writing experiences so as to avoid the development of bad habits would be considered ludicrous and would be recognized as retarding the development of eye-hand coordination and other important skills. (Fredric Schroeder, “A Step Toward Equality: Cane Travel Training for the Young Blind Child,” Future Reflections Vol. 8, No. 1.)
Kendra is currently five years old. She is on her fifth long white cane. With the exception of one cane that needed to be replaced after someone stepped on it, each of her canes has been longer than the previous one. At eighteen months of age, Kendra received her very first cane through the NOPBC. It was twenty-four inches long. Of course she didn’t use it correctly at that age; we never had the expectation that she would. What we did expect of her was that she would understand it was hers and that it was to go with her whenever she went out. We also wanted her to understand that it would “tell” her things. To this day, if I see her ignoring cues from her cane and heading towards something that she could avoid, I’ll ask her to think about what her cane is telling her. We would never consider leaving the house without Kendra’s cane. It’s so much a part of our routine that I have caught myself thinking on more than one occasion that we need to bring R.J.’s cane with us when we go out as well. (R.J. is Kendra’s fully sighted two-year-old brother.)
At the age of two, Kendra attended school one day a week at The Center for the Visually Impaired (CVI) in Atlanta. We sent her to school with her cane although we knew that it was not part of their philosophy for children that young to have one. I recall the family counselor individually taking aside the other parents on the first day of class to tell them that Kendra’s use of the cane was the parents’ personal decision, and it was not on their recommendation. Three years later, I heard from a parent with a child in the CVI program that the current O&M instructor works with her three-year-old son with a cane, and that the overall atmosphere is one of greater tolerance.
When she was three, we enrolled Kendra in a Montessori school. She had O&M lessons twice a week for forty-five minutes each session. Kendra’s instructor, Libby Hall, was trained in the traditional O&M approach but she was open to reviewing some articles I gave her by Joe Cutter. Last summer, Libby attended her first NFB convention in Atlanta. I recall seeing Libby at the convention one day and she held out her arm to show me the goosebumps. She seemed energized by the O&M information presented at the convention. She left with every piece of NFB literature available, and with a new NFB-style long white cane. Libby recently told me that she could go on and on about her reactions to and feelings about the convention, and about how she has been stimulated and challenged by NFB ideas and techniques. Libby continues to be Kendra’s O&M instructor at her current public school and we have been very pleased to see some of the new approaches she has tried with Kendra this year.
In case you think that this early experience with a cane means that Kendra’s acceptance of it has been smooth and trouble-free, let me set the record straight. Kendra went through a period when she stubbornly refused to use her cane. I wrote to Joe Cutter for advice and racked my brain trying to figure out how to make the cane more acceptable to her. The event that turned things around was attending an NFB convention and hearing the tapping of canes all around her. No longer was she the only one with a cane! Even though Richard and I have teaching canes (adult-size canes that we use to model cane use for Kendra), it wasn’t the same as Kendra hearing other blind people using their canes all the time.
Reactions to Kendra’s cane by people outside our family have varied widely. On the one hand, Kendra has sighted friends who devise makeshift canes for their blind dolls. On the other hand are people who continue to call her cane a stick, even after being corrected. We’ve certainly had our share of stares and whispers. Sometimes I try to turn things around and consider the situation an opportunity to educate people. For example, if I hear another child whispering “Is she blind?” to a parent, I usually stop and tell the child that yes, Kendra is blind and she uses her cane to help her know what’s in front of her when she’s traveling. I need to remind myself that most people have never seen someone Kendra’s age using a cane. Last Halloween, Kendra wanted to dress up as a doctor so I bought her a set of scrubs. While we were trick-or-treating, an adult told us what a funny costume Kendra had; she thought Kendra was supposed to be a blind surgeon. I told her that Kendra is blind but that she was dressed up as a “regular” doctor, not a surgeon. It’s important to us that Kendra doesn’t become ashamed to use her cane, and hearing us address public comments about blindness and the cane in a positive manner is one way to make sure that doesn’t happen.
In 2007, the Georgia Organization of Parents of Blind Children started a cane bank in memory of Jared Cochran, a little boy who died unexpectedly at age three. We provide a child’s first cane for free to any parent in Georgia who requests one.
Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap……..
Stephanie Kieszak-Holloway is president of the POBC of Georgia and a member of the board of the NOPBC. She and her family live near Atlanta.
by Carrie Gilmer
When my daughter Maya was three years old she wanted one thing more than anything else--a white cane of her own. There was only one problem: she wasn’t blind. But her older brother Jordan was, and she wanted to be just like him.
My husband and I noticed that there was something wrong with Jordan’s vision when he was four and at age five he was diagnosed with cone-rod dystrophy. Then they told us that he was legally blind. But we didn’t find out how normal a blind kid could be until Jordan was eight and we discovered the National Federation of the Blind (NFB). Jordan’s older siblings, Joe and Kate were on the same learning curve of shock, grief, and acceptance that Phillip, my husband, and I experienced. Maya, however, was just one month shy of being two years old when Jordan and I attended our first NFB convention. At that convention our attitudes changed from mere acceptance to really going forward; full dreams ahead.
During Maya’s second year we had regular contact with many blind adults at local NFB meetings, and she celebrated her third birthday with all the buddies (blind kids) at the Buddy Camp Jordan was attending for the first time. In her early years, when she was forming her understanding of the world, there were blind people and sighted people, and to her there wasn’t an overall discernable difference between them. Mainly the difference was that blind people got to have white canes and read Braille, and blind kids got to go to a fun-filled camp. She wanted those things, too.
When she was three she began to pick up sticks in the yard and use them like a cane. Then she began to ask for a cane of her own. I didn’t think that as a sighted child she should have one. I also didn’t want her to think of Jordan’s cane as a toy, so I told her only blind kids got real canes. Of course, this only made her want one even more. She began to insist on taking her stick with her whenever we went out. But often the stick was too short or had little branches sticking out of it and we were in a rush to get out the door so mostly we told her, “No, you can’t take your stick.” But if Maya is anything, she is persistent, and she wanted a cane.
For nearly two years we went through lots of sticks. But they were brown, not
white, often crooked, and even though many made it to the grocery store and
back, they broke easily. Then, during the summer she turned five, a sort of
miracle happened. We had gone to the Mississippi river (it is much cleaner up
in Minnesota by the source) to spend the day with my father on his boat. As
usual we had day-camped on a sandy shore. Suddenly I heard Maya yelling, “Mom!
I found my cane! I found my cane!” Sure enough, Maya had found a perfectly straight
stick; it was cane width and strength, of correct length, bleached white, and
smoothed by the river. I could never again bring myself to tell her “No.”
Maya was growing up with a blind older brother who was just like any other older
brother. He read her stories; he met her at the bus stop when I couldn’t; he
made her snacks; he took her to the park, played with her, and made sure she
was safe; he had cool stuff that she liked to borrow (or get into); he could
reach things she could not; he got to do things she wasn’t old enough to do;
and he was there to practice debating skills with her. She tried to discover
what the blindness part meant by wearing sleepshades or closing her eyes and
exploring with her own senses the alternative techniques Jordan used daily.
To this day Maya’s attitude about blindness is matter-of-fact in a much deeper
way than that of his older siblings.
Last year the Minnesota Parents of Blind Children partnered with Qwest Corporation volunteers to sponsor a beeper Easter Egg Hunt. Siblings were welcomed and had a chance to wear a colorful bandana over their eyes and use a white cane. A ten-year-old boy, Austyn, came with his sighted three-year-old sister Bayleigh. I had a cane just the right size for Bayleigh, and she was not afraid to put on the bandana. As I watched her I thought of Maya and the difference it made to let her grow up learning about her brother and blindness at least in part through imitation.
Austyn had a folding cane that he had obviously outgrown. I asked him if he would like to try a longer NFB straight cane with a cool metal tip. He whooped and hollered and took off down the sidewalk. He acted as though he had traded an old jalopy for a sleek new Corvette. And in my opinion he had. His excitement was cemented when I told him he could keep the cane when the hunt was over. I also asked Bayleigh if she would like to keep her cane. She said yes. Her mother and grandmother were a little hesitant--perhaps concerned that a blind child needed that particular cane--and questioned (like I had done with Maya) whether a sighted child should have a cane. But I told them it could be a good way for Bayleigh to discover what it means for her brother to use a cane, and explained how Maya had learned about her older brother this way.
Brenda Johnson, Bayleigh and Austyn’s mother, recently told me how it is going for Bayleigh and Austyn and their canes. Here’s what she said:
“Bayleigh has not separated from it since she got it. She has learned how to make rainbows (making a proper arc), and often reminds Austyn how to use his cane appropriately. One day in April, Bayleigh went to the grocery store with her Nana. Of course she needed to take her cane. As she walked through the store, she got a lot of looks from other shoppers and comments about how well she got along. When it was time to check out, the clerk commented about how well she got along, especially when she ran to the Hannah Montana poster display. Of course, grandma needed to explain that she really wasn't blind but was imitating her older brother. Bayleigh now has taken to wearing her Hannah Montana sleepshades when she goes out with her cane.”
Maybe Maya (or Bayleigh) will decide to become a cane travel instructor when she grows up. Wouldn’t that be awesome? As parents of blind children we cannot choose “if” our child will be blind, but we can definitely choose to model for them “how” to live with it through our actions and attitudes. We can also teach those in our families and who are in the lives of our child what blindness means, and what it doesn’t, through that choice of “how.”
Carrie Gilmer is president of the Minnesota Parents of Blind Children and
secretary of the National Organization of Parents of Blind Children. She and
her family live in Minneapolis, Minnesota.
by Patricia Renfranz
My daughter Caroline, who is now twelve, is congenitally blind. She has been enrolled in a mainstream elementary school program since second grade. We spent many joyful and many frustrating hours encouraging her to explore her world as a toddler and preschooler. One day she’d be up to her armpits in a pumpkin--gleefully enjoying the gunk--and the next day she’d be crying at the top of a slide--afraid to come down but determined to do it nonetheless. A few times I crammed myself into the McDonald’s Playland tunnels to orient her or encourage her to keep moving. The worst times were those when we felt the glare of other parents as we “tortured” that poor crying blind toddler who couldn’t make up her mind to go up or down on the playground slide. We had to remember that we knew our daughter best. We knew she wanted to slide down; we just had to hang in with her until she had the courage to do it. Fortunately, my family’s resilience in these matters has paid off. Perhaps this is why I was asked by the Future Reflections editor to write about cane travel and training during the elementary school years. So, here goes.
Caroline received her first cane in preschool at the Utah Schools for the Deaf and the Blind. This cane, in fact, was a little tiny NFB cane, the significance of which I did not appreciate at the time. I don’t think Caroline saw this cane as a great emancipator, but she did receive encouragement and training. As she moved into elementary school, her various orientation and mobility instructors (OMIs) provided her with a number of different cane types (usually the red and white aluminum cane) and cane tips. She used her cane at school--in the halls, in the lunchroom, and on the playground--fairly responsibly. On the other hand, she was always encouraged to leave it at the doorway of her classroom, even though a classroom is the least predictable space in the whole school. Caroline mixed her techniques and grips to use the cane as she saw fit, while receiving instruction on its proper usage.
I do not think it is heretical or dangerous for her to have mixed and matched techniques; she was just being a kid. However, technique was a focus of her IEP goals. Technique is intimidating, and while an OMI (or a parent) may know a lot about techniques, they do not necessarily know how to translate techniques devised for blind adults into a program appropriate for children. It makes me wonder if OMI training programs have any sort of pediatric specialty. Are any of those folks who are just terrific working with children--we know who they are, even if we can't describe the type--ever recruited into OMI training programs? What about teachers with an elementary education background? Are OMIs working in the school system able to receive training in child development or child psychology? Are OMIs eligible for special endorsements for working with children? Our family certainly could have benefited from such cross-disciplinary expertise. We’ve just discovered the Modular Instruction book by Willoughby and Monthei and I was delighted to learn that Willoughby was a former elementary school teacher. I wish we had discovered the book years ago.
In any case, at home and in the community, Caroline’s use of the cane was a different story than at school. Picture us in a busy parking lot, Caroline standing outside the car door sans cane, insisting quite stridently that she will neither use her cane nor walk with an adult. In retrospect, I can see this as a young child’s yearning for independence--yearning desperately in fact--without the maturity to understand that independence requires skills and responsibility. Her desire to be independent (not to be quashed!) blossomed without the cognitive skills to understand that safe, responsible travel by a child in a very large parking lot requires either the use of the cane with supervision, or guidance from an adult. Her spirit wanted to be free (not holding hands with mom or dad) but her mind could not accept the limited choices--use your cane with someone nearby or hold our hands--that we (her parents) decided to give her in that circumstance.
This brings me to one side note, which is this question: Does every trip to the grocery store have to be a lesson in cane travel, orientation, or mobility? I feel guilty if I don’t give Caroline the opportunity to practice every chance we get, but sometimes I have to do what is best for me or for my family as a whole, not just what is best for my blind daughter. So, sometimes I leave her in the produce section to explore to her heart’s content while I go round up something for dinner. I do what I can to keep her safe, and I am guiltily relieved to not be there to see the looks of other customers or clerks as she handles all the unusual (or not so unusual) items. It is a decision that gives us both, parent and child, a little independence. She needs to know I trust her. Of course, sometimes she just stays in the car while I run in to get milk. I know, I know--Bad Mom.
Caroline and I went shoe shopping a few weeks ago. Like all the other times, I insisted she walk around the shoe department to try the shoes out. A few years ago, she was quite reluctant to do this. I could see the wheels turning in her mind: "Use a cane--stand out. Not use a cane--bump into shin-height display tables. Other kids around? I can’t see them, but I know they are staring at me." Even a little task like trying on shoes became fraught with significance. I would ask myself questions, too. Do I mention the cane? Do I just let her decide? If she doesn’t use it, do I let her bruise her shins or trip on open boxes, and learn her lesson the hard way? Why am I giving so much significance to every little thing in her life? I need therapy before we’ve even picked out what shoes to try on!
Our last shoe expedition, though, worked. We had to go to the grown-up shoe department because she’s growing so fast. There were fewer kids but more people and more obstacles, and it was in a busier part of the store. So, we get there and soon off she goes, trying her new shoes. Cane in hand, she avoids the pillars and the shin-killing shelves; she doesn’t quite avoid all the people, but that’s okay. We still get the looks--“Oh, that child is brave; oh, that parent is brave; oh, poor thing--look at her maneuvering around all the stuff on the floor.” They don’t realize it’s not about bravery. It does not take bravery to wander around a shoe department. This time, however, it did take a remarkable confluence of physical, social, and cognitive skills that we have journeyed long to find.
This year, Caroline has taken ownership of her cane, and we are so proud of her. Unfortunately, it resulted in a brouhaha with her OMI over what type of cane Caroline should use. Caroline decided she preferred the NFB-style cane, which is lighter, made of fiberglass, has a narrow round grip, and a metal tip. Her OMI insisted it was not safe. She wanted Caroline to use one of the other types of canes: the heavier aluminum cane, a folding cane, a cane with a golf grip, a cane with a plastic tip, a cane with a marshmallow tip—any cane but the NFB cane. Meetings had to be held and tempers flared. As parents, we were ecstatic that Caroline had decided to use any type of cane at all. As I told our friends, she could have chosen a telephone pole and I would have been happy. Our years of struggle, both public and private, to get her to take a cane and use it, had finally paid off! Instead of celebrating, her OMI refused to instruct her, indicating to us a lack of appreciation for what a blind child must go through to accept a cane in her life (I guess her OMI had never seen us in certain parking lots). With strong support from us, Caroline now has another OMI, one who has an open mind and who respects a blind kid’s feelings about using a cane. Things are working very well now.
I learned many things from reading Kenneth Jernigan’s article, “The Nature of Independence.” [That article is also reprinted in this issue.] One is that independence comes from knowledge and training, and from those come the power of choice. I think that OMIs, whether from within or outside the NFB, should respect the fact that there is no fixed prescription for independent mobility for any blind child. One child may need more or less time than mine to acquire the cognitive skills to understand what the cane is and how it can help him or her move independently. One child may be more or less sensitive than mine about balancing how the cane makes one different versus how it non-intuitively makes that child fit in. One family may be better able or less able than mine to find a good balancing point between the disciplined attitude that “every action has import--use the cane every day or you’ll never be independent” and a laissez-faire attitude of “hand the cane to the child and let her or him decide when to use it.”
Next year, Caroline will be going to junior high. She’ll have a big, complicated school to navigate. Thanks to a wonderful OMI, she is already learning the layout, not just routes but how to figure out for herself where she is. I am confident that she is discovering her own path to being an independent blind student who carries a cane.
Pat Renfranz is a new member on the board of the NOPBC and a leader in the Parents of Blind Children of Utah. She and her family live in Salt Lake City, Utah.
Editor’s Note: Pat raised an important question about the
university training of O&M instructors. At least one program addresses the
need of future instructors to have some knowledge about how children develop.
The Louisiana Tech orientation and mobility degree program requires that students
take a three-hour course in developmental aspects of blindness with a focus
on child development. Students are taught the milestones for typically developing
children, and how to use and adapt them as standards for O&M assessments
and instruction. Contact information about this program is in the Resources
section at the end of this issue.
by Fredric Schroeder, PhD
Reprinted from the Volume 8, Number 1, issue of Future Reflections.
Editor's Note: Dr. Fredric Schroeder is the first vice president of the NFB and a professor specializing in leadership and public policy at San Diego State University. However, he began his career in work with the blind as a cane travel (orientation and mobility) instructor for the blind at the rehab agency for the blind in Nebraska. He moved on from that to become the Coordinator of Low Incidence Programs for the Albuquerque Public Schools from August of 1981 to June 1986. In 1986 he accepted a position as Director of the New Mexico Commission for the Blind, and in 1994 he was appointed commissioner of the Rehabilitation Services Administration (RSA) by President Clinton, a post he held until 2001. Schroeder was a pioneer in advocating canes for blind kids. He established the first school-district-wide O&M program to routinely provide canes and O&M instruction to all blind and visually impaired students as soon as they entered school as kindergarteners. The principles, protocols, and techniques he developed in that program continue to be the standard and the model today. Here is his description of that program as reprinted from an earlier issue of Future Reflections:
Beginning in 1981, the Albuquerque Public Schools implemented a unique program of providing cane travel instruction to blind children as they begin kindergarten. This program is viewed as radical by some since it operates from the philosophy that all blind children should begin cane travel instruction at a very early age. One of the most fundamental parts of a blind child's training is the development of independent travel skills. Without these skills, the blind child is placed in a position of being dependent on others for inclusion in daily activities. As a result, we find a direct correlation between the acquisition of independent travel skills and the development of self-confidence. As self-confidence increases, we find a marked increase in the degree to which blind children are accepted by their peers.
There presently exists a controversy in the orientation and mobility field concerning the age at which cane travel instruction should begin. The traditional practice is to introduce cane travel instruction in high school or mid-school and in rare cases in the upper elementary grades. It is felt that young children are not able to use the cane responsibly before this time. Further, it is felt that young blind children are not developmentally ready to begin cane travel instruction due to the coordination required for handling the cane and the spatial concepts needed for orientation. The controversy hinges upon the meaning ascribed to the concept of “readiness” for using the cane. Those of us who believe that very young blind children should receive cane travel instruction pose the counterargument that the traditional method of orientation and mobility training is designed for adults and, therefore, it is the method of instruction which is deficient for encouraging early use of the cane rather than the child's maturational inability to use a cane effectively.
Certainly, very young children will not handle a cane in precisely the same manner as adults; however, this is not to say that the very young child uses the cane incorrectly or inappropriately.
The way in which cane travel instruction is taught to very young children differs in a number of ways from conventional travel training. The first modification concerns the type of cane to be used. For very young children it is necessary to have a cane which is lightweight, flexible and durable. We do not use metal canes of any type since they are heavy and become bent with significant use. The best cane we have found is manufactured and distributed by the National Federation of the Blind (1800 Johnson St., Baltimore, MD 21230, 410-659-9314). This cane is of the hollow fiberglass type and uses a metal glide tip. The hollow fiberglass makes for a lightweight, flexible cane, and the metal tip reduces the likelihood of catching the cane in tall grass or shrubbery. We believe that a child's cane should be longer than normally recommended. We measure a child's cane so that it comes up to his or her nose or higher. In this way, the child is provided a two- to three-step warning of upcoming objects, thereby allowing the child to move quickly and confidently.
Next, we modify the way in which cane travel instruction is introduced. The two-point touch technique in a formal sense is not practical for five-year-olds. However, the two-point touch technique remains the goal, and therefore early instruction must be structured with this goal in mind. For example, the two-point touch technique requires that the individual use a particular grip with the index finger extended along the shaft of the cane. The hand must be centered with the body, and the cane is to be moved from side to side in an arcing motion. The arc of the cane should ideally reach a height of one and a half inches at its highest point. The width of the arc should be two inches to either side of the body. Finally, the cane tip should touch in opposition to the leading foot. That is, as the cane touches to the left, the right foot should be forward. Without a doubt, a five-year-old would be hard pressed to master all of these skills and coordinate them while walking. Nevertheless, it is well within the ability of a five-year-old or even three-year-old to master the fundamental concepts of cane travel and implement them to a developmentally appropriate level.
The initial objective is an awareness that the cane can detect objects in the environment. Since the cane is a natural extension of the arm and hand, few children have difficulty in understanding the usefulness of the cane as an exploration device. Next, the instructor will encourage the student to move the cane from side to side for the purpose of establishing a clear path. A centered hand position can be introduced at the same time. At this point, the instructor should not be concerned with the student's keeping in step. Similarly, it is not necessary for the student to have the index finger extended while gripping the cane. These refinements will come later. At this stage, the primary objective is to encourage the student to move independently, using the cane to find a clear path. In this way, children develop an awareness that the cane will allow them to move easily and without fear. Unlike conventional orientation and mobility training, from the time cane travel is introduced our students are required to use their canes at all times.
Our students are required to use their canes at all times. This includes using the cane in familiar environments such as within the school building, in the cafeteria, and on the playground. Using the cane in familiar environments helps the child learn to interpret information received from the cane. If stairs or a familiar object can be anticipated, then the child will learn to use the cane to find these familiar landmarks. At this stage, attention to the width and height of the arc should be of the most general type. The teacher should resist focusing on technique in lieu of encouraging independent travel and exploration.
It is very important for children not to become dependent on using memorized routes of travel. During orientation and mobility lessons children should be encouraged to make use of landmarks for orientation which are naturally encountered by the child. Students should not be allowed to trail walls with their hands, count steps or slide their feet to find stairs. Furthermore, children should not be allowed to use protective arm techniques (particularly the upper hand and forearm technique), since it interferes with the child's ability to make use of auditory clues. In addition, children should not be allowed to square off with walls as a means of making ninety degree turns. Instead, children should be encouraged to use the cane to find landmarks which would naturally be encountered in the environment.
It is critical that children be encouraged as soon as possible to travel independently through wide open spaces. This will enhance development of the child's ability to orient him or herself by means of broad environmental clues. Our students use the cane on the playground and are able to find their way to the swings, slide, and other playground equipment. When necessary, students will ask directions of other children.
Similarly, all of our students are expected to function independently in the cafeteria. They are responsible for going through the line with the other children, using the cane, gently, to determine when the student ahead has moved forward. Our students carry their own trays, using the cane in either a diagonal technique or, for more experienced travelers, using the pencil grip. The pencil grip is a technique for holding the cane at a nearly vertical angle. As the name implies, the cane is held like a pencil using the thumb, index and middle fingers to move the cane from side to side. This technique leaves free the ring finger and little finger which can be used to hold one end of a tray with the free hand holding the other end. Our students find their own seats and are expected to bus their own trays after lunch. In short, we believe that children who are provided cane travel at an early age are able truly to mainstream themselves in all aspects of school life.
As time goes on, the orientation and mobility specialist begins to help the student refine his or her cane technique until it takes the form of the conventional two-point touch method. We have not encountered any of the difficulties which are generally presumed to occur with the introduction of cane travel at a very early age. The traditional thinking in the field is that giving a cane to a very young child will result in the child's developing bad habits which will need to be remediated later on. We have found this concern to be wholly vacuous and perplexing by its lack of understanding of child development. It would certainly be an exceptional two-year-old who would hold a crayon in the same manner as an adult holds a pencil. Nevertheless, it is recognized that a young child's early scribbling is providing good practice in the development of the fine-motor skills which will eventually enable him or her to hold a pencil properly later on. To deny a child of early writing experiences so as to avoid the development of bad habits would be considered ludicrous and would be recognized as retarding the development of eye-hand coordination and other important skills. As previously stated, we do not expect young children to use the cane in the same manner as adults. We have found that as children grow, they become developmentally ready to master new aspects of efficient cane technique. In addition, there are many residual benefits to early introduction of the cane.
We find that children, if provided canes at an early age, develop the ability to orient themselves easily in complex environments, which frees them from the limitations of route travel. It appears that early exploration is the key to enabling young children to develop spatial concepts. Furthermore, we find that use of the cane greatly improves posture by eliminating the need for the student to shuffle his or her feet or walk with his or her hands extended. Finally, we find that use of the cane improves children's feelings of self confidence and self-worth as they are able to participate independently in the school community.
Let me now address the issue of “pre-cane” techniques. The orientation and mobility profession has identified a number of pre-cane skills, including protective arm techniques, trailing walls, and use of sighted guides. We believe that these skills are rendered useless once cane travel has been introduced.
[Pre-cane techniques] are a separate and less efficient travel system which is unrelated to eventual cane travel. Furthermore, they are a separate and less efficient travel system which is unrelated to eventual cane travel. Therefore, we do not consider them “pre-cane” skills since they do not provide developmental readiness for eventual cane use. For this reason, we are philosophically opposed to conventional pre-cane techniques since they promote unnatural and inefficient mobility.
In particular, we discourage the use of sighted guide procedures. It is our experience that the use of sighted guides places the blind student in a subordinate status which is damaging to the child's development of independence. When being led by a sighted guide, it is difficult to remain well-oriented since natural landmarks are not encountered. More importantly, there is a tendency for the blind child to relinquish responsibility for his or her own orientation. In some instances, such as traveling through a crowded shopping center or sports stadium, the use of the sighted guide technique may be helpful in keeping track of a companion; however, at no time do we refer to the technique as “sighted guide,” nor do we allow the child to give up responsibility for his or her own orientation.
To accomplish this end, we introduce crossing of major intersections, bus travel, and travel through large shopping centers in elementary school. We often have the children go in pairs with the more experienced traveler serving as a role model for children less experienced. In this way, the children learn how to rely on their own abilities to reason their way through new situations without significant intervention by the orientation and mobility specialist.
Let me hasten to add that the process I have been describing is not limited to a select group of students with extraordinary ability. Our students include blind children with other conditions. For example, two of our students have been identified as having communication disorders. This would normally be assumed to cause great difficulty in understanding and following directions as well as conceptually understanding large open spaces. We also have a student with a hydrocephalic condition and a hearing loss in one ear, which makes localization of sound more difficult. Let me also add that the success of our students is not based on the degree of residual vision. Students with any vision (including light perception) wear ocular occluders (sleep shades) during all orientation and mobility lessons. In this way, the children genuinely develop the ability to rely on the cane as well as landmarks and auditory clues. Properly developed, these skills will enable the child with residual vision to function easily and confidently in situations where glare or other physical conditions make his or her vision unusable.
The benefits we have observed from the early introduction of cane travel have been greatly encouraging. Children benefit individually through increased confidence and self-esteem, as well as benefiting socially by being able to participate on an equal footing with their peers. For these reasons, we remain firmly committed to early cane travel instruction from both a philosophical and practical standpoint. As educators, there is no greater gift we can give a child than the skills to take charge of his or her own life and take a step toward equality.
by Douglas C. Boone
Editor’s Note: What should a good O&M assessment look like? According to long-time cane travel instructor and consultant, Doug Boone, one of the crucial elements of a good assessment is the evaluator’s expectations and attitudes. The following piece by Doug Boone is adapted from an article entitled “Linda Gets a Cane: Parents Prevail in Due Process Hearing” in the Volume 13, Number 2, issue of Future Reflections. It is included in this special issue because it provides an excellent example of all the elements that make up a thorough O&M assessment--including that elusive element: positive expectations. Here is Doug Boone:
In the middle of April 1993, I received a phone call from Karen Mayry, President
of the National Federation of the Blind of South Dakota. She informed me that
a seven-year-old blind person, Linda Perez, was not receiving instruction in
the use of her long white cane. Furthermore, she was not being encouraged or
allowed to use her cane in the school. The wishes of Linda and her parents,
as presented to the Douglas School District (which is near Rapid City) during
IEP meetings were being discounted in favor of the recommendation by the regional
orientation and mobility (O&M) consultant who had prescribed a precane device
for Linda.
As a private consultant in the field of blindness/visually impaired issues,
it has become my policy not to rely on others’ perceptions of a situation. Instead,
I like to evaluate each situation or human need personally and then pursue a
course of action which is based upon fact. I also proceed on the assumption
that it is best to err on the side of positive expectation--I always first assume
that a given task or challenge can be accomplished by the person with whom I
am working.
The foundation of experience and philosophy I bring to this process consists partly of my experience in the employ of three state blind rehabilitation agencies. While an employee of the state rehabilitation agencies I was often called upon to consult with educational facilities regarding the needs of blind and visually impaired adults and children in issues related to cane travel and industrial technology classes. Also vital to my foundation of knowledge is the extensive sleepshade training I received when I first entered the field, and my continued philosophical growth by way of my association with the literature and members of the National Federation of the Blind. With this background, I set about designing an appropriate evaluation of Linda Perez’s ability to function with the long white cane. Here is the text of that evaluation:
Proposal For O&M Assessment
The following is a proposal for contract services to assess the feasibility of the introduction and subsequent instruction in the use of the long white cane, as an aid to mobility, for Linda Perez, beginning on Sunday, May 9, 1993, and concluding on Monday, May 10, 1993.
The assessment will be conducted in a two-phase process: at the student’s residence on the first day and at the student’s school on the second day. The assessment schedule will help to minimize the Hawthorn effect by allowing for the development of rapport with the consultant in the secure environment of the home on the first day. This arrangement will also allow for parent observation of the process. The second day of the assessment will provide for an expansion of the assessment in a more structured environment with observation by interested instructional staff. The second day will seek to provide a review of those areas (listed below) which were assessed on the first day. The provision of two days of assessment will seek to minimize the chance that the student might have an off day and thus skew the results of the assessment. Both days of the student’s assessment will cover, to the extent possible, the following:
1. Establish rapport between the evaluator and parents and student.
2. Begin evaluation of student’s: a. expressive and receptive language skills,
b. level of community/environmental awareness, c. level of social awareness.
3. Evaluation of student’s ability to collect, correctly assess, and/or use
auditory, tactile, and other available environmental information.
4. Provide for the evaluation of the student’s balance under a variety of situations
and conditions.
5. Evaluation of the student’s ability to grip the cane and begin manipulation
of same.
6. Instruction in, and evaluation of, the ability of the student to slide or
tap cane in such a manner as to provide for a clear path of movement.
7. Confirm the ability of the student to maintain, at a level consistent with
that of beginning students, incorporation of the following elements in the use
of the cane: a. grip, b. slide or tap, and c. acceptable width of arc.
8. A basic assessment of the student’s psychomotor skills in general.
9. An assessment of student’s maturity level and ability to maintain concentration
necessary for beginning use of the cane.
10. Evaluation of the student’s ability regarding stowing the cane in an appropriate
location and retrieval of the stored cane.
All of the above will serve to determine the readiness of the student to begin a course of instruction in the use of the long white cane. Of necessity the assessment will be conducted at a pace commensurate with the student’s attention and tolerance levels. To provide for these considerations, the assessment will be interspersed throughout both days of evaluation.
A written report will be sent by FAX to the school no later than the morning of May 14, 1993, and a FAX sent to the parents to a location of their choosing. This will be done in order to acquaint all interested parties with the findings of the assessment.
The summarized results of the evaluation are provided below:
O&M Evaluation Report
Locations For The Assessment: Student’s residence, Rapid City Mall, and the Douglas School Badger Clark building, Carousel building, and surrounding school environment as it relates to Linda’s instructional needs.
The evaluation began on the morning of May 9, 1993, at the residence of Linda Perez. My first efforts were directed toward establishing rapport with Linda and her parents. I asked Linda to get her cane. Linda independently found the cane, with only a verbal prompt from her parents to tell her that the cane was on the porch. Linda was receptive to becoming acquainted, and I soon asked her to show me her favorite toy. She took her cane, without prompting, and returned with a busy box. Approximately fifteen minutes later I asked Linda to put her toy back, which she did without any difficulty. I then asked her to get another toy. This time she chose a puzzle. She came back to the table and began working on the puzzle. After a short time, she asked about the location of her cane. It was at this point that I demonstrated to Linda how she could store the cane under her chair. Linda exhibited a good attention span while working on her puzzle.
Mr. and Mrs. Delker next provided me with information regarding various self-help skills which Linda is able to accomplish. While this is not directly related to the assessment of Linda’s ability to use a cane, a cursory review of her level of functioning is desirable in order to understand her behavior when using the cane. The discussion revealed an overall development in the range of a three- to four-year-old. Her parents stated that Linda has specific tasks to do in the home. A recommendation was made to encourage Linda to become involved in the selection of her own clothing since activities of this nature contribute to independent thinking and concept development. It should be noted that this portion of the assessment was for the benefit of the consultant, and was/is not intended as an official finding regarding age-appropriate development.
Evaluation Of Outside Use Of The Cane: As we prepared to leave the house for the outside evaluation, Linda prompted her parents by asking for her cane. I believe this was a significant act, demonstrating an awareness of the cane as a tool for independent mobility.
As we came down the ramp from the house, Linda found a section of plywood with the cane, then stomped on it to confirm the feedback she had received from the cane--an act not inconsistent with beginning users of the cane of any age. This demonstration of an awareness of the auditory feedback available from the cane is significant in view of the limited experience Linda has had with the cane.
Once in the yard, Linda followed her father’s voice toward the place where the bus stops. Linda continued to use her cane in a somewhat sporadic arc, mostly keeping it near to the ground but occasionally raising it. Linda displayed an ease with using the cane in either the right or left hand. This ambidextrous approach to the cane is a skill well worth fostering, as it provides for independent mobility when carrying heavier objects which can be shifted between hands to minimize fatigue. While I generally introduce this skill later in a student’s instruction, I do not view the early alternating of hands to use the cane in a negative light.
From the bus stop we proceeded to the lamb pen. Again, Linda followed her father’s voice. She used the cane surprisingly well over uneven surfaces, including tire ruts, unmown grass, mud, and loose gravel. When she arrived at the lamb pen, she was not facing the pen, but was parallel to it. Her father made note of this fact and prompted her to put the cane in front of her. She extended the cane and swung it to her left, found the fence with the cane, then turned and appropriately faced the lambs. This action represents an understanding of the value of the cane as a tool to collect information from the environment.
Next, I asked her to find the chicken house. (I had heard a chicken as Mrs. Delker was gathering the eggs.) Linda needed one additional auditory cue, then proceeded in the direction of the building. After locating the chicken house she turned and approached the feed shed which Mr. Delker had entered. After arriving at the feed shed, I showed Linda how to determine the height of a step by using her cane. The step was inordinately high, approximately fourteen inches off the ground. After several exploratory tries, Linda crawled into the shed. At all times she maintained contact with the cane or remembered where she had placed it. This behavior demonstrated Linda’s awareness of the value of the cane in enabling her to move effectively in her environment. As we returned to the house Linda continued to use her cane while following sound cue information from her parents’ voices.
Evaluation At The Mall: At my request, Mrs. Delker drove Linda and me to the mall for an evaluation of cane usage in an unfamiliar location. Upon arrival at the mall, Linda unbuckled her seat belt. This was the first time she had self-initiated and independently accomplished this task.
As we entered the mall Linda immediately noticed the sound feedback available from the cane, and swung her cane with additional vigor. Initially, Linda seemed a little intimidated at the prospect of walking about using only her cane and not hanging on to her mother’s hand. This behavior was not surprising given her limited instruction in the use of the cane to date. Most people tend to experience some degree of fear and apprehension when encountering new environments.
As we walked in the mall, Mrs. Delker asked Linda to find a bench. Linda, without further information, reached out and found the bench using her cane. During this portion of the evaluation I observed multiple incidents of Linda’s swinging the cane vertically and horizontally at waist height or above. After a number of interventions by Linda’s mother failed to produce a controlled arc, I suggested to Mrs. Delker that she briefly take the cane from Linda the next time she failed to heed a verbal warning to use the cane properly. Linda once again inappropriately swung the cane. Mrs. Delker took the cane and told Linda she would have to walk the mall holding her (Mom’s) hand, not using the cane, if she were to again swing the cane improperly.
At this point I suggested that perhaps Linda was tired and we should conclude the evaluation. It is significant to note that no additional misuse of the cane occurred as we returned to the car! In my opinion, the modification of Linda’s negative behavior, which coincided with the prospect of losing the cane because of misuse, demonstrated the value she places on the cane. As we left the mall, Linda found a two-foot drop-off with the cane. She knelt down to feel the drop-off, sat down so that her feet were on the lower surface, then stood up again. We returned to the car and concluded the day’s activities.
Evaluation In The School Environment: The evaluation on the morning of May 10, 1993, was conducted at Linda’s school and included the Badger Clark building, Carousel building, and other areas used in the provision of Linda’s education plan.
I began the school portion of the evaluation by observing Linda exiting her main school bus and moving to the small bus in which she waits until a school staff member comes to escort her to the building. In going from the large to the small bus, Linda exhibited excessive vertical raising of the cane similar to what I had observed in the mall on Sunday, May 9, 1993. When leaving the bus and encountering the bus steps, Linda did not seem to know how the cane could provide information regarding the step height. Both of these observed deficits do not represent inability, but instead reflect lack of instruction and consistency of cane usage. It is worth noting that when Linda went up the steps to the second bus, she seemed to instinctively use the cane to locate the next step. Once again, she showed her appreciation for the cane by maintaining constant contact with it at all times.
After a short wait, two school staff persons came to the bus to get Linda. I introduced myself and let them know I was present for the day to observe Linda using the cane at her school. Linda then began to follow the staff to the building, located a metal grate on the sidewalk, crossed it, and proceeded into the building. She followed the staff persons down the hall, located the door to her classroom with her cane, and entered. Without asking Linda’s permission, a staff person took the cane from her and hung it up. At that point I offered to put on a pair of sleepshades and demonstrate how the cane can act as an effective tool in mobility. None of the school staff indicated a desire for me to do so.
Linda’s first class was physical education, and it was necessary to walk approximately one-and-a-half blocks outside to the track area. The staff person who was taking her to the track referred to the cane as a stick. I explained that the proper term was cane, and she apologized. I informed her that no apology was necessary as no one could expect her to know all of the terms related to blindness and visual impairment.
As we continued, I again observed the ease with which Linda switched the cane from one hand to the other. At one point, Linda walked off the sidewalk and onto playground gravel. When asked by the staff person to get back on the sidewalk, Linda located the sidewalk with her cane and, after some independent re-orientation, continued in the proper direction. At another point Linda stepped off the sidewalk onto a grass edge and seemed to be exploring and experimenting with her cane. This action of using her cane as a tool to collect information and to satisfy her curiosity is yet another indicator of her readiness to use the cane.
At one point, the staff person grabbed the cane and was teasing Linda by pulling on the cane and saying they were going to get her with it. I asked the staff person not to engage in this kind of activity because Linda, like most students, will benefit from positive reinforcement in the proper treatment of equipment; be it a baseball bat, eyeglasses, or a cane. These examples of the staff’s lack of knowledge regarding blindness are not a negative comment on the staff personnel, but rather reflects the need to empower staff through a specialized in-service training conducted by professionals and blind role models.
As we came back from physical education and were approaching the building, the staff person asked me if I wanted Linda to trail along the wall. I told her that I preferred that Linda not do this since the cane could find things for her which she would miss if she were just trailing the wall. Furthermore, by using the cane Linda would be developing transferable skills. When asked for additional information I explained that if a maintenance worker or teacher left a toolbox or some other item in the hall, trailing the wall would result in a collision. On the other hand, when using the cane correctly, items hurriedly placed in the hall could be easily detected and walked around. To the credit of the staff person, this explanation made sense to her.
Just before we entered the building Linda began to tap more heavily, again indicating her ability to use echolocation information produced by the cane. She stomped a few times, to confirm the cane information, and proceeded into the building. Once inside, her speed increased as she walked down the hall without trailing. Soon she asked the staff person if she could stop by the office and was allowed to do so. When she was in the proximity of the office, she heard sound cues coming from within. She extended her cane to her left and entered the office without contacting the door. Even the staff person commented on how well Linda was doing with the cane.
As Linda left the office, again smoothly passing through the door, she turned
left to proceed to her homeroom. The staff person and I arrived at the homeroom
and paused; Linda continued past the door approximately thirty feet. She stopped,
without comment from either the staff person or myself, turned around, and walked
back to the door. When she reached the door, she swung the cane into the opening
and then she entered. The staff person acted very appropriately, allowing Linda
to discover and resolve her error on her own.
Once again I extended an offer to demonstrate, under sleepshades, the full cane
technique used by blind persons. I told the staff persons they had but to ask.
No one asked to have the demonstration.
While waiting for Linda in her home room I heard an instructor outside the classroom repeat twice to a sighted student, “Please keep your hands off the wall; we have art work on the walls.” Encouraging trailing walls in place of using the cane does not facilitate mainstream efforts, but instead serves to enhance differences between Linda and her peers. This subtle and unnecessary allowance can have negative implications for both Linda’s self-concept and the expectations which peers have for Linda.
The next significant event, related to this assessment, occurred when it became time to go from Linda’s homeroom to her mainstream class. A staff person informed Linda that it was time to go to Carousel (her mainstream classroom). Another student in the class was looking at Linda’s cane. The staff person, while retrieving the cane from the lad, informed Linda they were running late and would have to hurry. As she finished her statement the staff person hung up the cane, took Linda’s hand, and proceeded down the hall. Approximately one quarter of the way to the mainstream classroom I heard Linda ask for her cane. The staff person told her that they were late and didn’t have time for the cane. Linda’s question reflects the value she places on her cane. The response to the question indicates the need for staff training regarding the importance of cane usage in the development of self-confidence and independence.
That failure to permit Linda to have her cane with her was a lost opportunity to reinforce her independence. Indeed, after arriving at the mainstream classroom, Linda needed to go from one location in the room to another. The staff person told her to go on over. Then, almost immediately she said, “Take my hand; there are kids on the floor.” Again, this was another example of a lost opportunity to teach Linda and her peers that blind people can do things by themselves.
Next, the class members, including Linda, were asked to go outside and get an egg carton which had been filled with dirt and planted. Linda’s assigned staff person accompanied her, helped her find a carton, and lined up with her to come back into the building. They had stopped just prior to the sidewalk while waiting for other children to move inside. When the staff person indicated to Linda that the line was moving, Linda moved forward, caught her toe on the edge of the sidewalk, and almost fell. With the cane Linda could have been in control of her own mobility and collected information relevant to her needs. She might still have stumbled, but then again, maybe not. Because she was not allowed to take her cane to the mainstream class, she did not have it available for recess or for the walk back to her homeroom.
Also, a different staff person led Linda back to homeroom by a different route.
This inconsistency in going to and from various locations occurred several times
and appeared to be the norm. It would be helpful for the staff to learn the
value of Linda’s using the same routes during this early period of learning
how to maintain orientation.
It is salient to the evaluation that Linda, when she used the cane at school,
exhibited none of the negative behaviors she had displayed while at the mall
on Sunday, May 9. Whatever the cause for this improved respect for using the
cane, the absence of negative behavior simply means one less thing the staff
at the school would need to modify.
Also noteworthy is that during the morning I observed Linda at school, with the exception of one staff person, no one else prompted her to use either the pre-cane device or the long white cane. Instead the staff consistently took Linda’s hand to accompany her to various class activities.
It is significant to note that, while staff were reluctant to expand their knowledge of the cane, I did observe a high level of commitment and concern for Linda and a good deal of coordinated effort in expanding her knowledge of geometric shapes and enhancing various concepts in general. These efforts should contribute significantly to Linda’s development of spatial awareness and the ability to generalize information when moving about with her cane.
Summary of Findings
Linda demonstrated:
1. a willingness and motivation to use the cane;
2. awareness of the value of the cane as a tool to assist her in her mobility;
3. awareness of sound feedback available from the metal cane tip and ability
to use same;
4. awareness of texture variables, as they relate to orientation and mobility;
5. good echo/sound cue usage;
6. recognition that the cane can locate objects and openings through purposeful
extension of the cane in the desired direction;
7. a willingness to explore her environment with the cane;
8. a firm grip on the cane for extended periods of time;
9. excellent balance in a variety of evaluation environments;
10. an increased pace when using the cane as opposed to trailing the walls;
and
11. good travel orientation.
Recommendations
As a result of the evaluation, I make the following recommendations:
1. Future instruction in orientation and mobility be conducted using the long
white cane.
2. The cane be used for all independent mobility as often as possible in the
school and in home life.
3. Staff, parents, and peers receive in-service training in basic use of the
cane by blind role model(s) and professional staff so that they will be better
able to reinforce the use of the cane in and out of the school environment.
4. Establish set routes during this early phase of O&M instruction for going
to and from classrooms. This will allow Linda to concentrate more on the skills
associated with manipulation of the cane and less on keeping oriented.
5. Some emphasis and priority be given to cane usage until Linda develops more
skills. For example, perhaps on Mondays and Wednesdays Linda might use all of
her allotted time just going to and coming back from, say, physical education
(or some other class). Learning independent mobility is a priority on those
days. On Tuesdays and Thursdays Linda takes her cane, but may also take a staff
person’s hand to quickly get to P.E. so she can participate. On these days the
emphasis is on class participation. This approach is suggested as an interim
solution, pending Linda’s development of speed and self-confidence in using
the cane. Careful consideration should be given in a plan of this nature to
assure minimum disruption of her academic curriculum.
Those were my findings but the school continued to resist the Delkers’ request
for Linda to receive instruction in the use of the long white cane. Indeed,
the Douglas School District chose to contest the payment of my services even
though it is the right of parents to seek outside evaluation in cases where
the school and parents disagree.
In July of 1993 the Hearing Officer handed down his ruling and found in favor of Mr. and Mrs. Delker and ordered the Douglas School District to reimburse the Delkers’ for the cost of the independent evaluation. The school district has since obtained the regular services of an O&M instructor for Linda Perez, and she is reported to be making fine progress in the use of the cane, using it not only at home, but also in school!
Doug Boone is still in the consulting and training business as D. Boone
Consulting. A resident of Kalamazoon, Michigan, he consults with and trains
staff for rehabilitation agencies and schools for the blind. His intense training
sessions feature blindfold experiences that focus on the cane and the possibilities
available to blind people when skills are developed. He can be reached at <boonerehab@aol.com>.
by Denise Mackenstadt, NOMC
Orientation and Mobility Specialist
Editor’s Note: Denise Mackenstadt has over thirty years of experience working with blind people. For ten years she was a paraeducator and Braille transcriber in the public schools. From 1994 to 2004 she served as a trustee of the board of the Washington State School for the Blind. In 2001 she received the National Federation of the Blind’s Distinguished Educator of Blind Children Award for her exemplary performance as a paraprofessional working with blind students. In 2004 she graduated from the Stephen F. Austin State University preparation program for orientation and mobility instructors, and in 2005 she was certified by the National Blindness Professional Certification Board as a national orientation and mobility certified (NOMC) instructor. She currently works under contract for two local school districts in the Puget Sound area of Washington State as an itinerant mobility instructor. She is also under contract with a local birth-to-three program. Her current caseload includes students from preschool through high school, including students with multiple disabilities. Her professionalism is solidly grounded in a lifelong relationship with consumers. She is the wife of Gary Mackenstadt, a long-time NFB leader, and is a leader in her own right in her state affiliate and in the National Organization of Parents of Blind Children. In the following article Mackenstadt sets forth her vision of the components of a good orientation and mobility program for students in a public school setting.
Author’s Note: I wrote this article to articulate what the components of a good program serving public school blind students should look like. Much of the literature in the field has been written by instructors from residential programs for blind or visually impaired students or university professors. In recent years the education of blind children has been affected by No Child Left Behind (NCLB) and changes in the delivery of special education services. We have literature that addresses the itinerant programs for visually impaired students, but very little about orientation and mobility programs. Very little material addresses the delivery of services using the structured-discovery learning approach in the itinerant setting. I hope that parents, mobility instructors, and others interested in the teaching of travel skills to blind children will read this article and begin to expect better mobility training for blind students.
Terminology: The instruction in independent travel by blind people is variously called mobility, orientation and mobility, O&M, or cane travel training. I use all of these terms interchangeably in this article. Also the student who uses these skills may be called blind, visually impaired (VI), partially sighted, legally blind, or low vision. I do not like to use the term legally blind because this definition does not apply to all of the students who need mobility instruction. To simplify and to save space, I use the term “blind” to describe all students whose vision cannot be corrected to within normal limits and who, for safety and efficiency, need to learn to use nonvisual tools or techniques as alternatives to limited vision.
Instructional Methods
In this section
• Guided Learning
• Structured Discovery
• Nonvisual Skills Training
• Role Release
• Family Role
In the field of orientation and mobility instruction, two terms describe distinctive instructional philosophies and methods: guided learning (conventional approach) and structured-discovery learning. Many instructors trained in O&M university programs may assert that they use discovery learning in their teaching; however, this is not always demonstrated by the way they work with students.
Guided Learning
Typical elements of the guided-learning approach
• Rigid sequence of instruction
• Route travel
• Technique-driven instruction
• Primacy of the O&M instructor--does not incorporate other staff or the
family in instruction
Guided learning methods are organized in a rigid sequence of instruction. For example, the typical sequence is to begin with human-guide (sometimes called sighted-guide) technique. This is a skill that can be taught in a half hour, but in the conventional approach instruction takes place over several lessons. Even the student who has been using a human guide is required to go through these lessons. This rigid sequence of instruction can lead to frustration and boredom in a student who is ready for instruction in the use of the cane.
Abiding by this sequence can also delay progress for students who have problems mastering a specific skill. For example, some students with motor difficulties have a hard time learning to hold the cane in a particular way. The conventional approach requires the student to learn to hold his or her cane in a prescribed manner, even if the student can meet the standard of effectively and safely covering the path of travel by using a modified cane hold. Again, this rigid approach can be frustrating and defeating for the student.
Routes (set patterns of travel) are a major component of the guided-learning approach. Diverging from the route is discouraged. A good deal of the instructional time is spent on a series of routes to locations that are part of a student’s daily activity. A typical route for an elementary student may be learning to go to music from his or her regular classroom and back. For example, the student might be instructed to shoreline a building, turn right at the end of the wall, cross a short passage way, then use the building line to find the door to the music classroom. No deviation from this route is tolerated even if the student could reach the same destination by another path. In addition, the student is not expected to use other orientation skills that could transfer to other parts of the building or campus.
For some students route travel is an appropriate approach. Teaching a set route does not require a great deal of time. Once the student has learned the route, her instruction is complete. However, some students will not be able to remember the complex steps in many routes. In addition, this method does not allow for flexibility. Let’s say that the student who has learned the route described above goes to school one day and the schedule has been changed. Instead of going to music from the classroom, the student has to go to the music classroom from the playground area. But the student does not have the problem-solving experience to use other environmental clues to get to music class. Routes have been planned for him or her without taking into consideration that these routes do not meet the needs of the student in all circumstances.
Guided learning emphasizes specific and detailed techniques. It dictates precisely how a student must hold a cane, use a human guide, or navigate a blocked pathway. Again, for some students this may be appropriate, but most blind people naturally adapt techniques for their own specific personalities and lifestyle. It is important to discourage sloppy techniques that will endanger the student, but some flexibility is necessary to allow for the development of a relaxed and confident traveler.
Many conventionally trained O&M instructors are convinced that only an O&M teacher is capable of giving instruction in the use of a cane. This would be adequate if the student were with a trained mobility instructor twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, but that’s not possible. So, for real progress to be made, it is necessary to give guidance to the other people who are part of the blind student’s life. In this way, as it is with reading or writing, parents, teachers, and other responsible adults who work with the student need to reinforce and encourage the child to practice so that he or she can integrate mobility skills into everyday activities. This is one of the strengths of the structured-discovery learning approach, as described next:
Structured-Discovery Learning
Typical elements of Structured-Discovery Learning
• Sequence of instruction is guided by functional needs.
• Routes are not so much taught as discovered by using critical thinking and
problem-solving.
• Emphasis is on transferable skills.
• Techniques used are guided by the student’s developmental stage.
• Other adults, professional and personal, are included as part of the instructional
team.
It is important to have a sequence of instruction that builds to more complex and difficult skills. However, this sequence should be determined in part by the student’s immediate needs as well as his or her long-term goals. Techniques learned in isolation will not be internalized by the student. The instructor must be aware at all times of the student’s functional needs as the student progresses in learning mobility skills and techniques. This sequence must be flexible because opportunities for learning that may not fit neatly into the prescribed sequence of instruction come up. Flexibility is the hallmark of a good instructor. Good educators take advantage of unexpected teachable moments.
Structured-discovery learning demands that students work constructively with the environment. For example, if a student is learning to travel from the playground to the classroom at the end of recess, the instructor guides the student to notice other students’ movements and discover terrain details (restroom doors, water fountains, exhaust fan noise, etc.) that would be useful in finding the classroom. The instructor provides guidance only in interpreting the environmental clues and how to use them in traveling. As a result the student learns the clues that can be used in a variety of travel situations.
The student develops routes by interpreting the clues that come to his or her attention and discovers ways of using these clues to meet different travel needs. He or she learns to work with a variety of environmental clues while gaining flexibility and confidence.
Travel skills must be transferable to other situations to enhance one’s ability to live, work, and go to school. Discovering how to use basic clues, a young traveler becomes confident in tackling any travel situation.
Spatial orientation and motor skills begin developing at a very early age. Movement is the major ingredient in developing these skills in an age-appropriate order. This is why it is very important to include orientation and mobility instruction at a young age. Requisite skills such as good spatial orientation (knowing up from down, left from right, over from under, front from back, etc.) and motor skills (grasping with fingers and thumb, balance, pulling, pushing, crossing midline, etc.) must be in place before advanced skills can be taught. A solid foundation in these skills enables the student to discover and develop more and more complex skill sets. There is more to O&M than walking on sidewalks and taking buses. These advanced skills become more difficult for the student to learn if the basic developmental concepts that are a part of independent movement are not in place.
So which approach is best--guided learning (the conventional approach) or structured-discovery learning? Good cane travel (O&M) instructors will include elements of both approaches. In the end, whatever the approach, the outcome must be that the student has the ability to process environmental information, think through what this information means, and do it while traveling independently.
Nonvisual Techniques
• Build confidence in learned skills
• Build on efficient use of partial vision
Most blind people have partial vision. Often this limited vision can prove to be more of a hindrance than a help. Most people use partial vision beyond what is practical or efficient. It is presumptuous to think that the student is not using his or her vision to its fullest degree. In fact vision is a consuming sense. Using sight generally overpowers our other senses. To learn nonvisual skills effectively with our senses of hearing, touching, and smelling, one needs to incorporate a method that will not allow vision to dominate. Anyone who has learned to keyboard (touch type) has had this experience. Often the only way to counter the bad habit of looking at our hands is to cover the keyboard during the learning process. This is common sense. This is why using a blindfold is the most effective and efficient way to teach nonvisual techniques.
However, we must not expect children to react to blindfolds the same way adults react. We do an injustice to the flexibility and openness of children when we project onto them our own fears and apprehensions. All of which is to say that most children will not have problems accepting blindfolds in O&M training if it is presented to them in a positive, creative way.
Role Release
• Training additional staff to reinforce skills learned when the O&M specialist
is not present
• Including family members in the student’s daily O&M training
The O&M instructor has a limited amount of time to spend with a student. This creates a challenge because repetition is an essential element in skill development, and mobility skills are used in every aspect of the blind person’s life. So how can students get the practice they need? The student comes in contact with many other staff members throughout the school day. It is important, therefore, for the O&M instructor to spend time with these staff members to train them and support them in working with the blind student. With repetition and practice the student will develop confidence and belief in him- or herself as a competent traveler. Independent travel is directly related to what can be called road time--that is, practice and repetition. Clearly, including other school personnel as part of the O&M support team is essential in meeting the educational needs of the blind student.
The professional O&M instructor must include family members as part of the educational team. Most families understand the importance of the goal of traveling independently, but rarely if ever see it in practice. They may never have seen a blind adult or child travel independently with a cane. Imagine what it would be like to be a nondriving parent whose teen is taking driving lessons, but who has never seen a car, much less seen one driven. It is not reasonable for the instructor to believe that a parent can support meaningful travel training for a child without having knowledge of the capabilities of independent blind travelers. Therefore it is important for the O&M instructor to educate parents about the skills their children are learning. Blind children are usually delighted when they can share these new skills with their own families.
Tools
• Appropriate length of cane
• Tactile and resonant qualities of different cane materials
• Rigid versus folding canes
• Cane tip characteristics
• Blindfolds (sleepshades)
• Precanes
One of the primary functions of the cane is to detect objects and drop-offs. Just as in driving a car, a certain amount of reaction time is necessary to slow down or stop. Using short canes either trainees have to extend their arms, locking the elbow in place to extend the reach of the cane to provide greater reaction time, or they have to slow down. Young children get tired or bored or frustrated too easily to extend their arms stiffly for any length of time, so why not avoid these problems by starting with a longer cane? Blind kids also need to run, skip, and physically move about and play just like sighted children. A longer cane allows them to do this with greater safety and security.
Regarding the composition of the cane, some materials, such as fiberglass or carbon fiber, conduct tactile information more efficiently than others such as aluminum. In addition, lighter canes made of fiberglass or carbon fiber also provide better resonance--a sensory input that helps a blind person determine surface texture and other meaningful characteristics in understanding the environment.
For the beginner a rigid cane is ideal. Tactile feedback is enhanced by the continuous shaft of the straight cane. Breaking a cane into its connecting pieces adds to the weight, and the breaks in the cane inhibit sensory feedback. Then there is the mindset of the student who is just beginning to use a cane every day. A student, especially an older one, may be uncomfortable using a cane at first. An easy way to avoid using it is to fold up the cane and put it away. Of course, as the student matures and gains skill and comfort with the cane, he or she may need different canes, including a telescoping or folding cane, for many reasons, and that’s certainly okay.
Cane tip characteristics are important. The commonly used nylon tip does not give the tactile, resonant, or auditory feedback that a flat, disk-shaped metal tip gives. In addition, a lighter tip (such as the metal tip) maintains the balance of the lighter cane shaft. If a student does not keep the tip on the ground, you can add weight just above the tip of the lighter cane without compromising these characteristics.
The positive results of learning nonvisual techniques by using a blindfold were discussed earlier in this article. To reiterate: the blindfold is a tool, nothing more, nothing less. It is not a device to mimic total blindness. It is an instructional tool in the same way that a number line on a student’s desk is an instructional tool. After the student has mastered place value in math, it is not necessary to have a number line placed on the desk. Another example is a young baseball player who uses a batting tee until he or she can hit a pitched ball. So it is with using a blindfold in mobility training.
Precane devices are constructed from PVC piping and are used as an alternative to the cane. They are often introduced to the very young student before he or she is instructed in the use of the regular long white cane. It has not been adequately demonstrated that learning to use the precane in any way improves the student’s capacity to use the long white cane later. In fact the pre-cane device requires a different set of motor skills than does the long white cane. Since it is more difficult to unlearn a skill than to learn a new one, it therefore seems more sensible to begin with developmentally sound instruction in the use of the long white cane. If the student has other physical problems such as an orthopedic disability, then techniques using common support devices such as crutches or walkers can be devised.
IEP Issues
• O&M Goals and Objectives
o Age appropriate/stage appropriate
o Short term – long term
o Across a variety of environments
• Appropriate service time for O&M
As the educational team formulates an IEP, the mobility instructor must be an integral part of the process. The skills of independence are as essential as any academic achievement. Movement is an important ingredient in cognitive development. Movement encourages a developing neurosystem to mature. Body awareness, spatial orientation, and motor planning are all linked to movement experiences. These skills are also part of learning literacy skills, i.e., reading and writing. It is unfortunate when a highly intelligent blind student is limited because he or she is not able to move about independently in the neighborhood, home, or school. As much attention needs to be given to mobility goals as is given to Braille or other academic