The following story came through my Google alerts today. It’s from the opinion page of the Chicago Tribune and is written by someone with low vision. I thought some of you would enjoy it.
I’ve always tended to be conservative on the reasonable accommodation front. I believe that nothing in life is really free, and that there is a price to be paid when you ask for something – so you better make sure it’s worth the cost – financial, emotional or social.
If we as blind/low vision people really want to be equal members of society (as we all believe we are) than we must restrict our “ask” to the things that really do create equality. We need to ask for things that level the playing field in the greater world, and not things that simply change the field altogether.
I’m not saying that there’s anything wrong with asking for an accommodation – I do it! I’m just saying that some accommodations promote independence while others foster dependence.
Here’s an example of what I mean. When I was in college I ran a group for blind students for a while with several other friends. One of the challenges we faced was some division about what should be expected from the University – a university, by the way, that seemed to us to comply with things like ADA in a very window dressing sort of way. There was no doubt we needed services we weren’t getting – and didn’t need some of the services we were getting – but what was worth advocating for?
Some things were an easy agreement. At the time, (the early 90s) there was not a single computer on campus (a university with 30,000 plus students) acceessable to the blind or the visually impaired. Yet, more and more classes required the use of a computer. There were computer labs all over campus, but they might as well have had a big sign on the door stating: “no blind/visually impaired students allowed.” For sighted students there were countless classes offered by the computer center to help learn to use various programs and enhance one’s skills for employment – but none were accessable to us. Each department, each student, had to reinvent the wheel constantly and each time the University acted as though it was somehow a surprise to them that they had roughly 20 blind and visually impaired students on campus.
There was a minority, however, who wanted a whole myriad of other services. For example, note takers. Now, there are different situations and different types of classes etc. for which one really might need this – but when evaluating the need the students never seemed to think ahead to how they were going to accomplish the same tasks in the work force. Often their requests were based more on a lack of low vision/blindness skills than anything else. It wasn’t the university’s fault that they didn’t have these skills, nor was it the university’s responsibility.
Every student is expected to meet a certain standard of readiness before attending college. And if you’re not ready, you’ve got to take a step back and get ready.
The social cost to the rest of us was the perpetuation of the myth that as blind and visually impaired students, we really couldn’t make it with independence. Some of us didn’t appreciate that very much.
Because of this experience, I find myself perhaps overanalyzing everything I ask for – is the ask going to make me independent, or is it going to create dependence? Is there anything I can do to adapt?
I, for example, don’t really care what a print newspaper looks like. There are a number of newspapers available for free across the country on a dial-up basis. And thanks to the Web, I can pretty much adapt the text to my liking on my own. It would be nice if some sites improved some of the navigation behind the scenes to make it easier for those that use screen readers – an equality creating accommodation.
But some of the other things mentioned I can SO identify with. It drives me bananas that the only way to really see a theatrical production well is to pay through the nose for tickets – that doesn’t seem fair to me.
And yes, if a bookstore does happen to have a large print section, why, oh why, do they insist on either putting the books on the top or bottom shelf making it incredibly difficult for anyone that might need large print to browse.
And the airport kiosks – I HATE THEM!
It annoys me that the airlines have installed these things so that now you can never figure out where the line is and where you’re supposed to go to get help. How often have I, with my cane, wandered around for an extended period of time trying to get some direction or help while some airline employee likely watched the whole time? There’s nothing equal about that.
And if there is a clearly defined line, it’s usually filled with travelers that are having problems with their tickets. If I could see the kiosks I could come and go in minutes – but when I can’t read them I can stand in line for as long as a half hour or more while each major customer service crisis is attended to – and that doesn’t seem fair.
And yet we must all recognize that there’s often more than meets the eye to anyone’s situation or needs. Sometimes I feel a lot of pressure to be the “super blind” lady, the walking public relations billboard.
I have some uber-independent blind friends who poopoo the fact that I now ask for assistance at the airport – something that as a frequent traveler with good O&M skills I’ve almost never done.
But I’m not asking because of my vision. I’m asking because of my health issues. Going through security with me is a nightmare – you really don’t want to be behind me and it isn’t fair if you are. Traveling with a laptop, CPAP, a backpack full of drugs and inhalers etc. is quite the scene. There I am trying to take out the laptop, the camera, take off my shoes, jacket, and then take out my CPAP as it must be screened separately. The pill bottles start to roll all over the place. Sometimes there are items in my ostomy care supplies that create suspicion. I lose track of valuable possessions going through the machine making me ripe pickings for a crook because I’ve got TSA searching this and carrying away that. Sometimes it’s not just about the vision.
Okay, that’s my rant for the day – enjoy!
chicagotribune.com
Visually impaired must raise voices
By James Alan Fox
August 15, 2008
If you can read these words—that is, without straining, squinting, holding the paper under a magnifier or using any other low-vision aid to decipher this small font—then this column is not about you. Still, please read on, as the message has everything to do with you and the majority of people who are uninformed about the special struggles of the visually impaired.
By way of establishing my own credentials in this area, I was for very many years registered with the Massachusetts Commission for the Blind as "legally blind." I received wonderful assistance from the agency, as well as certain government benefits, such as an extra tax exemption and excise tax abatement on my automobile (an irony that always amused my friends). More recently, after eye surgery, my vision no longer falls within the limits of legal blindness. Whatever it may be called now ("illegally blind"?), I still struggle in a world that is itself blind and ignorant to vision impairment unless it comes with dark glasses and a white cane.
The examples of low-vision challenges—some rather unnecessary ones—are all around. These are but a few:Presumably to save space and cut costs, most daily papers put certain features well beyond the abilities of those with less-than-normal sight. I thought my vision had improved, yet I can no longer distinguish lefty from righty in the daily pitching form. And there is surely no space-saving purpose for using a gray backgroundfor certain graphics, with aesthetics trumping readability.
I always seek out the tiny large-print section in bookstores. But for some unexplained reason, these editions are sometimes arranged on the very top shelf where the titles can't be read except by people who needn't read them. Although I complain, bookstores fail to see the incongruity and choose not to alter the corporate-imposed store layout.
Traveling is consistently difficult for reasons that make little sense. Why do airport monitors have to be hung so high? The new check-in kiosks, which are not all that simple to read or follow, have at least freed up the ticket agents to stand around and look on with puzzlement as I bend or kneel to read the computer screen.And there is absolutely no blind justice at airport food courts. Forget about reading the menus placed high up on the walls behind the fast-food counters. It is demeaning and embarrassing to ask some disinterested cashier to read off the breakfast selections while a line of hungry and impatient travelers grows behind me.
Entertainment must really be a luxury, as so many house policies seem to be stacked against those like me. On countless occasions, the visually impaired "accommodation" at concert halls and sporting events is the wheelchair section located in the very back row. To add insult to injustice, the ticket-seller for the rock concert has the nerve to ask why it matters where I sit because all that is important is hearing the music. Do you suppose the "good seats" are expensive just because the music is louder up front?I do not mean to suggest that all businesses and establishments turn a blind eye to issues of sight impairment. A few enlightened Major League Baseball teams, for example, have a wonderful policy of reserving a few selected seats for visually impaired fans, right behind the protective home-plate screen. This seating arrangement definitely helps, though I must truly look stupid to folks watching the telecast at home in high definition when I raise my powerful binoculars to see the batter some 40 feet away.
Of course, there are those in the crowds who complain when, on occasion, people like me have access to purchasing some really choice seats without being scalped in the process. They simply fail to see what I don't see: The front row seems as close up to me as the back row does to them.It is high time for we of limited vision to raise our voices and collectively demand fairness. The farsighted world is blind, or at least myopic, when it comes to seeing the somewhat unnecessary struggles of those in the low-vision set. The fundamental problem is that when people think disability, they think paraplegic. When people think accommodation, they think wheelchair accessible.
Meanwhile, many midrange disabilities go unacknowledged.The U.S. Congress is working to reinforce the prescriptions and requirements of the Americans with Disability Act. However, lawmakers give relatively little thought to the challenges of the visually impaired. It is yet another disappointing case of out of sight, out of mind.
James Alan Fox is a professor of criminal justice and law at Northeastern University. His sight impairment has existed from birth.
I’ve always tended to be conservative on the reasonable accommodation front. I believe that nothing in life is really free, and that there is a price to be paid when you ask for something – so you better make sure it’s worth the cost – financial, emotional or social.
If we as blind/low vision people really want to be equal members of society (as we all believe we are) than we must restrict our “ask” to the things that really do create equality. We need to ask for things that level the playing field in the greater world, and not things that simply change the field altogether.
I’m not saying that there’s anything wrong with asking for an accommodation – I do it! I’m just saying that some accommodations promote independence while others foster dependence.
Here’s an example of what I mean. When I was in college I ran a group for blind students for a while with several other friends. One of the challenges we faced was some division about what should be expected from the University – a university, by the way, that seemed to us to comply with things like ADA in a very window dressing sort of way. There was no doubt we needed services we weren’t getting – and didn’t need some of the services we were getting – but what was worth advocating for?
Some things were an easy agreement. At the time, (the early 90s) there was not a single computer on campus (a university with 30,000 plus students) acceessable to the blind or the visually impaired. Yet, more and more classes required the use of a computer. There were computer labs all over campus, but they might as well have had a big sign on the door stating: “no blind/visually impaired students allowed.” For sighted students there were countless classes offered by the computer center to help learn to use various programs and enhance one’s skills for employment – but none were accessable to us. Each department, each student, had to reinvent the wheel constantly and each time the University acted as though it was somehow a surprise to them that they had roughly 20 blind and visually impaired students on campus.
There was a minority, however, who wanted a whole myriad of other services. For example, note takers. Now, there are different situations and different types of classes etc. for which one really might need this – but when evaluating the need the students never seemed to think ahead to how they were going to accomplish the same tasks in the work force. Often their requests were based more on a lack of low vision/blindness skills than anything else. It wasn’t the university’s fault that they didn’t have these skills, nor was it the university’s responsibility.
Every student is expected to meet a certain standard of readiness before attending college. And if you’re not ready, you’ve got to take a step back and get ready.
The social cost to the rest of us was the perpetuation of the myth that as blind and visually impaired students, we really couldn’t make it with independence. Some of us didn’t appreciate that very much.
Because of this experience, I find myself perhaps overanalyzing everything I ask for – is the ask going to make me independent, or is it going to create dependence? Is there anything I can do to adapt?
I, for example, don’t really care what a print newspaper looks like. There are a number of newspapers available for free across the country on a dial-up basis. And thanks to the Web, I can pretty much adapt the text to my liking on my own. It would be nice if some sites improved some of the navigation behind the scenes to make it easier for those that use screen readers – an equality creating accommodation.
But some of the other things mentioned I can SO identify with. It drives me bananas that the only way to really see a theatrical production well is to pay through the nose for tickets – that doesn’t seem fair to me.
And yes, if a bookstore does happen to have a large print section, why, oh why, do they insist on either putting the books on the top or bottom shelf making it incredibly difficult for anyone that might need large print to browse.
And the airport kiosks – I HATE THEM!
It annoys me that the airlines have installed these things so that now you can never figure out where the line is and where you’re supposed to go to get help. How often have I, with my cane, wandered around for an extended period of time trying to get some direction or help while some airline employee likely watched the whole time? There’s nothing equal about that.
And if there is a clearly defined line, it’s usually filled with travelers that are having problems with their tickets. If I could see the kiosks I could come and go in minutes – but when I can’t read them I can stand in line for as long as a half hour or more while each major customer service crisis is attended to – and that doesn’t seem fair.
And yet we must all recognize that there’s often more than meets the eye to anyone’s situation or needs. Sometimes I feel a lot of pressure to be the “super blind” lady, the walking public relations billboard.
I have some uber-independent blind friends who poopoo the fact that I now ask for assistance at the airport – something that as a frequent traveler with good O&M skills I’ve almost never done.
But I’m not asking because of my vision. I’m asking because of my health issues. Going through security with me is a nightmare – you really don’t want to be behind me and it isn’t fair if you are. Traveling with a laptop, CPAP, a backpack full of drugs and inhalers etc. is quite the scene. There I am trying to take out the laptop, the camera, take off my shoes, jacket, and then take out my CPAP as it must be screened separately. The pill bottles start to roll all over the place. Sometimes there are items in my ostomy care supplies that create suspicion. I lose track of valuable possessions going through the machine making me ripe pickings for a crook because I’ve got TSA searching this and carrying away that. Sometimes it’s not just about the vision.
Okay, that’s my rant for the day – enjoy!
chicagotribune.com
Visually impaired must raise voices
By James Alan Fox
August 15, 2008
If you can read these words—that is, without straining, squinting, holding the paper under a magnifier or using any other low-vision aid to decipher this small font—then this column is not about you. Still, please read on, as the message has everything to do with you and the majority of people who are uninformed about the special struggles of the visually impaired.
By way of establishing my own credentials in this area, I was for very many years registered with the Massachusetts Commission for the Blind as "legally blind." I received wonderful assistance from the agency, as well as certain government benefits, such as an extra tax exemption and excise tax abatement on my automobile (an irony that always amused my friends). More recently, after eye surgery, my vision no longer falls within the limits of legal blindness. Whatever it may be called now ("illegally blind"?), I still struggle in a world that is itself blind and ignorant to vision impairment unless it comes with dark glasses and a white cane.
The examples of low-vision challenges—some rather unnecessary ones—are all around. These are but a few:Presumably to save space and cut costs, most daily papers put certain features well beyond the abilities of those with less-than-normal sight. I thought my vision had improved, yet I can no longer distinguish lefty from righty in the daily pitching form. And there is surely no space-saving purpose for using a gray backgroundfor certain graphics, with aesthetics trumping readability.
I always seek out the tiny large-print section in bookstores. But for some unexplained reason, these editions are sometimes arranged on the very top shelf where the titles can't be read except by people who needn't read them. Although I complain, bookstores fail to see the incongruity and choose not to alter the corporate-imposed store layout.
Traveling is consistently difficult for reasons that make little sense. Why do airport monitors have to be hung so high? The new check-in kiosks, which are not all that simple to read or follow, have at least freed up the ticket agents to stand around and look on with puzzlement as I bend or kneel to read the computer screen.And there is absolutely no blind justice at airport food courts. Forget about reading the menus placed high up on the walls behind the fast-food counters. It is demeaning and embarrassing to ask some disinterested cashier to read off the breakfast selections while a line of hungry and impatient travelers grows behind me.
Entertainment must really be a luxury, as so many house policies seem to be stacked against those like me. On countless occasions, the visually impaired "accommodation" at concert halls and sporting events is the wheelchair section located in the very back row. To add insult to injustice, the ticket-seller for the rock concert has the nerve to ask why it matters where I sit because all that is important is hearing the music. Do you suppose the "good seats" are expensive just because the music is louder up front?I do not mean to suggest that all businesses and establishments turn a blind eye to issues of sight impairment. A few enlightened Major League Baseball teams, for example, have a wonderful policy of reserving a few selected seats for visually impaired fans, right behind the protective home-plate screen. This seating arrangement definitely helps, though I must truly look stupid to folks watching the telecast at home in high definition when I raise my powerful binoculars to see the batter some 40 feet away.
Of course, there are those in the crowds who complain when, on occasion, people like me have access to purchasing some really choice seats without being scalped in the process. They simply fail to see what I don't see: The front row seems as close up to me as the back row does to them.It is high time for we of limited vision to raise our voices and collectively demand fairness. The farsighted world is blind, or at least myopic, when it comes to seeing the somewhat unnecessary struggles of those in the low-vision set. The fundamental problem is that when people think disability, they think paraplegic. When people think accommodation, they think wheelchair accessible.
Meanwhile, many midrange disabilities go unacknowledged.The U.S. Congress is working to reinforce the prescriptions and requirements of the Americans with Disability Act. However, lawmakers give relatively little thought to the challenges of the visually impaired. It is yet another disappointing case of out of sight, out of mind.
James Alan Fox is a professor of criminal justice and law at Northeastern University. His sight impairment has existed from birth.
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