Tag Archives: social interactions disab

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“But…You Don’t Look Blind”

Inspired by this post, I decided to take her challenge, even though she’s said it about as well as anyone I’ve seen.

Sure, we’ve all heard it, or anyway, all of us who are blind have heard it. We know its intent, too. Of course it’s intended as a compliment. Is it a compliment?

As I’m so fond of saying, words mean things. Be careful which ones you use. “But…you don’t look blind”, “You don’t act blind”, “Wow, I forget you’re blind” have subtexts that you may not have considered, or even thought of, and probably didn’t intend, although if you think about them for a second, you might see them next time.

My first reaction when someone says that I don’t “look/act blind” is, naturally, “Really? What’s blind supposed to look/act like?” Usually, if I ask, it comes down to a lack of sureness or confidence, a slow and halting step, a bumbling and stumbling one’s way through life, things I don’t generally do (though, admittedly, sometimes doesn’t everybody?) So, the statement really points up a preconception that I, somehow, don’t fit into. I must, therefore, be special or better, or something. I assure you, I’m neither special nor better.

Some people may get this comment because their eyes look “normal”. I’m pretty sure mine don’t, if only because I don’t open them very wide, so that really can’t be why I get it sometimes. Most of the time, it’s pretty obvious I’m blind, and I’m OK with that. Sure makes some people edgy though!

Oh, but I didn’t mean it that way, I meant that, you know, you just function so normally. I mean, you do everything. You shop and travel and play games and use the computer and have a daughter and animals. That’s kind of amazing.

Stop.

Or put another way, when you’ve found yourself in a hole, stop digging.

I get it. I know you meant to say something nice, express admiration, even express that, “were our roles reversed, I’d curl up and die”, or something. Your intentions were good and kind, and I appreciate your intentions. But this is what I hear:

“Blind people don’t do normal things like have kids, pets, or hobbies, they don’t go anywhere, they need someone to mind them, they certainly don’t travel alone. Can’t expect much out of them really, what with their affliction and all.”

So you’re amazed today. What about tomorrow when you’ve decided that I’ve run up against some thing you just don’t think I can cope with?

Am I a one off? Am I really that special? Or is it just a fluke, and at midnight my carriage turns back into a pumpkin?

I have a friend who says that the greatest compliment you can pay a person who is blind is to forget that s/he has a disability. Really, I couldn’t disagree more. No, I am not my disability, but my disability is part of who I am…kind of like my odd sense of humor, penchant for random useless trivia, geek tendencies, love of animals, and sensitive nature. No, I’d say the greatest compliment you could pay would be to understand that I have a disability, then Move on and for god’s sake treat me like a human being anyway. Not an object of pity, not an object of misplaced awe and admiration, not Superman, not an incompetent, not a child. Just a human being, same as you. Maybe I’ll need your help with something different, but that’s about it. If you want to compliment me, that would be the highest compliment you could pay me. Ever.

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Has the promise of the Internet been broken?

Yesterday morning over breakfast, I read this article. It was probably not the best thing to read pretty much first thing in the morning, but there it was, and it gnawed at me all day. And kept on, even today. It disturbed me. No, I wasn’t surprised by it, hardly anything people do surprises me much anymore, especially if it’s bizarre and doesn’t make any sense. It did, however, deeply, deeply sadden me. Here’s what I wrote in the comments immediately after reading.

This makes me unbelievably sad. Just a couple thoughts. I’ve been on the Internet for 22+ years, a thing that scares me a little if I think about it. From those beginnings, when the Internet really was all text, limited to mostly educational and government users (along with some tech companies and very savvy folks–commercial ISP’s were pretty rare), it was, mostly, a free exchange of ideas. It was “the great equalizer”, where all you were in that space was what you said and how you expressed yourself. It was exciting. It was amazing. I had great optimism for this new medium, not because I could be whoever I wanted to be, but because I could be myself. Disability wasn’t a stigma. Nobody had to care that I was blind, only that I was (umm…OK, stretching a point) intelligent. To see this thing with so much potential for bringing very different kinds of people together being turned into, well, a playground for small minds and intolerance makes me despair anew. I, for one, am sorry. I also always read bios, because I think people are pretty interesting. I don’t know you. I’ve never seen you before, never read your tweets, know nothing more than this post from you. I, for one, am looking forward to changing that.

This leads me to a question. Has the promise of the Internet been broken?

Oh, sure. The Internet promised lots of things. It promised instant access to information and entertainment. Eventually, it promised easy and convenient shopping. It delivered on all that. (Of course, it also delivered lots of other things, like spam, but we’re not here to talk about that…or maybe we are, sort of.) The Internet has, indeed, delivered on all of that. I have access to more books than I could read in a lifetime, and better, at the same time as everyone else has them. I can do my own shopping and never have to hear some store employee who’d really rather be doing anything than help me say that “We ain’t got that”, even if it’s sitting right in front of his nose. I can write posts like this and have them read by total strangers, and I can be the total stranger who reads someone else’s opinions as well, and comment on them in real time. I can get news as it happens, unfiltered and immediate, which may not necessarily be a good thing, because I can also get all the rumors, misdirections, unconfirmed speculations, and contradictions from everyone needing to get the story first.

But what I can’t get, what Jamie can’t get, is that thing that was so liberating back when I discovered the Internet for the first time. I can’t think of the word for it. Respect? Equal treatment? It’s one of those things that you know when you see it.

Back when our online existence was limited to 25 lines by 80 characters, give or take, all anyone knew about yu was what you posted, and for everyone, that was text. Your thoughts, your opinions, defined you. It was a “level playing field”, and everyone had the same tools of expression. Oh, sure, there were the guys in their basements who never saw a woman before who would call for “gender check” on IRC and would virtually hit on any woman there, but for the most part, our exchanges were exchanges of ideas. I remember thinking that this was really how it should be. We should be able to get to know each other without prejudice, and, in doing so, maybe we’d all be better for it. That I was blind, or so and so was black, or a woman, or short, or didn’t speak well, or any number of things that would isolate someone, weren’t issues here. This one comic I remember summed it up well with its tag line: “On the Internet, nobody knows that you’re a dog.”

Except, now, they do.

That glorious time when our Internet persona was nothing more nor less than how you expressed yourself is gone. Commonplace, very fast connections have made it possible to have graphics, photos, and full motion video and sound. Now, all of those things that didn’t matter before have moved into this space as well. Now, the Internet is just an extension of all the ills of “out there”, but it’s even worse. Because there’s that distance still. People can still hide behind a keyboard and say things they’d never dream of saying to your face, because they aren’t. After all, there’s no one real on the other end. I once had some random person tell me, when my wife was recovering from a very serious heart operation, that we should consider euthanasia for her. OK, remember when I said very little shocks me anymore? That did. So all the prejudice, bigotry, venom, and invective that’s out there is amped up another notch in here, a place that used to be safe, a place where we discussed things as one human being to another.

No, of course it wasn’t all roses and candy way back when. There was alt.flame, after all. But still, things were a lot more civil, and the signal to noise ratio was much, much higher. On today’s Internet, I can’t read the comments often, because they make me too angry.

Maybe the Internet didn’t intend to promise that we’d evolve as human beings and we’d be able to take our level playing field of ideas to the wider world. Maybe it didn’t promise that to anyone but me. Maybe it didn’t promise anything at all, but I just assumed that it did. I wish I knew. I wish we would grow up as a race, as one race (that being human), and value each other for who we are individually. That was the promise I saw back in 1992. Instead, we are divided, we tear each other down, screw the next guy so long as I get mine, you have no value because you’re different from me, and there are no consequences for my being a complete ass, because this is the Internet and no one knows who I am.

I’m not really sure where I’m going with this. I wasn’t so sure when I started, only that I needed to sort out my feelings about it. I don’t have answers. I don’t know why we can’t just leave our bigotry and prejudice at the door. I understand and accept that as human beings, we all have prejudice. If someone tells you that he does not, he is lying, either to you or to himself. It’s an unfortunate part of the human condition. One of the really great things about being human, however, is that we have reason. Well, we’re supposed to have reason anyway. So can we not use that reason to acknowledge that, yes, I have a prejudice, or such and such kinds of people make me uncomfortable. Recognize this, then resolve to go beyond it. Simple to say, harder to do, but an we please start by veing polite and listening respectfully to other people’s ideas and viewpoints? Maybe if we can see something from the other guy’s point of view, we can all get along better. Maybe we can then find the things that bring us together rather than the ones that will tear us apart. It’s a start, anyway.

Well, I guess i didn’t really answer the question, and I also didn’t really clear this up in my own mind. I’m not really feeling any better about it either. Zero for three this time. Sorry. Better luck next time.

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Commenting On Comments;

Just a couple hours ago, I saw this article posted to an Email list I’m on. I’m happy to see that local police departments aren’t always turning a blind eye, so to speak, toward these issues of blatant discrimination. Of course, I also understand that the outcome of this story isn’t always what happens, and there are still far too many instances where the police will tell a victim of such discrimination that it’s “a civil matter”, or “they can’t really do anything”, or, worse, “Really, you should just leave.”

Whenever I read these stories, I also read the comments. They are often more enlightening (and, in some cases, saddening) than the actual story. That’s certainly the case with a couple of the comments posted after this story. Unfortunately, I was unable to figure out how to post comments myself, so I guess I’ll post them here, where nearly nobody will see them.

Nicole: you say that this guy that works at the restaurant in question should have been alerted that he violated someone’s rights, but hauling him off to jail was wrong. So, are you saying that his breaking of our country’s laws is unimportant? Or is it that you believe the laws that protect people with disabilities are somehow less relevant than other laws, and their enforcement isn’t as important? Please enlighten me. Maybe there are more important things for the police to deal with? Or maybe you really don’t believe any laws were really broken, and we people with disabilities are only allowed to travel and enjoy an evening out of our homes at the pleasure of, and with the blessing of, others?

Personally, I’m happy to see that someone’s putting some teeth into the laws. Unfortunately, fines and jail time are the only thing some people understand.

As for “dog hair flying around”, thank you, first of all, for your apology. As a guide dog owner myself, our dogs are often cleaner and better groomed than some of the so-called humans that are allowed in public. Moreover, the most you’ll ever see of my dog is as he walks by, and after that, perhaps, his head or tail, as he stays quietly tucked under my chair or table, well out of your space.

I stress here that with rights come responsibilities, such as the responsibility of keeping my dog clean, unobtrusive, and out of the way. Fortunately for all, these responsibilities are also built into the laws that protect us, which is to say, our right to be accompanied by a service dog is not absolute. A person with a disability may be asked to remove his service animal if that animal is disruptive, poorly behaved, and so forth. This is as it should be.

I’ve said that the comments are sometimes sadder, and certainly more enlightening, than the story being commented upon. In such comments, we will sometimes see what a person really thinks or believes. It saddens me that some who would read this story and other stories like it would believe, and even express, that they find that our rights to freedom of movement are less valuable than are their rights. Perhaps, I suppose, it would be better if we just stayed at home, out of the way, and let the rest of the world carry on. It saddens me that even in our “enlightened” age, some would hold such views. Just remember, there isn’t so much difference between you and me. I don’t mean this as a threat, or even a wish, merely a statement of fact. There isn’t a lot of difference between you and me.

This puts me in mind of another story, this one in the UK. This fellow and his girlfriend, who is a guide dog owner, went one afternoon to have lunch at an Indian restaurant. The prson who was waiting on them proceeded to deny him service. An argument ensued, and another diner then told the guy (who was doing the arguing for his girlfriend) to go home, to leave so they could enjoy their lunch, and to get a proper job. This, more than the actual refusal, shocked, angered, and saddened me. Do some out there really hold us with so much contempt? Are there really those who seem to believe that we are no more than an inconvenience to them, an annoying bit of their lives that should just go somewhere else so that they don’t have to deal with us? Are there really those out there who believe that our humanity is less than theirs, and that somehow, things would just be better if we’d go home, go away, and leave them in peace?

For those of you who feel this way, I have only this to say. Too bad. I’m not going home to spare you the discomfort of having to look at me. I’m not going away. I won’t intrude upon your life, but neither will I apologize for my existence in your ordered little world. I live, I love, I have a family and friends and, yes, a proper job. My world is larger than myself, and it extends beyond the four walls of my home. So get used to it, I’m here to stay, and so are the rest of my disabled brothers and sisters. Look upon us well; there is little difference between you and me.

And, to those who come to our country to seek a better life, I welcome you. Ours is a land of opportunity. There is room for everyone who comes here legally. There is plenty of opportunity for those who wish to seize it. Come, and welcome. But know, understand, and obey our laws. We are a country of laws, and they apply to you as well. If you own a business, drive a taxicab, or work in some sort of job that causes you to come into contact with people, it is your responsibility to know the laws, including the ones that cover people with disabilities. Ignorance does not make you immune, and after 80 plus years, there’s no longer any excuse for you not to know better. This applies equally to my American-born kinsmen.

Anyway, I’m sure I could go on, and probably will some other time. I always welcome your thoughts, so keep those cards and letters coming.