Orientation and Mobility: by Liz Graves

We have a guest blogger today, Liz Graves. Liz is currently an Orientation and Mobility student at Louisiana Tech University. She is very trendy, aware of things and is a great friend of mine. Below is her experience with being blind and an Orientation and Mobility student.

(in this picture Liz is sitting in a large chair with her cane)

By Liz Graves

The long white cane is a symbol of freedom for the blind.  It is a tool that allows the blind to travel independently through the environment without relying on another person to provide direction or guidance.  Unfortunately, the white cane is often mischaracterized as a last resort that only the blindest individuals should use when there is no one to take sighted-guide with and no other alternative.

(Liz participated in a fashion show and is showing off her cane)

The blind cannot be fully independent and capable if they are not confident in their ability to travel independently.  The National Federation of the Blind (NFB) is changing this negative misconception about canes through education programs like the Meet the Blind Month and training centers such as the Louisiana Center for the Blind (LCB).  The Free White Cane Program is helping put more canes in the hands of the blind by offering a new cane every six months to blind children and adults free of charge.

I, like so many others, had negative ideas about the cane throughout my life.  I was born blind, but was told by professionals that I had too much vision to learn Braille and should primarily use my vision to navigate through my environment.  I never carried a cane because I didn’t see the point of drawing attention to myself with a tool that I didn’t use.  After college, however, I heard about LCB, an adult training center that teaches cane travel, Braille, home management skills and industrial arts with the use of sleepshades for those with residual vision.  It made perfect sense to me—use sleepshades to focus on learning non-visual skills.

(Here is Liz with frineda and former LCB students)

The most important thing LCB taught me was confidence; both in my own abilities and in non-visual skills.  The importance of relying on my cane rather than only my vision really sank in at the 2010 NFB Convention in Dallas.  I had attended LCB for a whole two weeks and thought I knew what I was doing.  I was tap tapping about in heels using a not-so-good pencil grip with my cane looking for the door to the outside.  I looked around and saw light on the floor, an indication for what I thought was the door.  I exclaimed to the group “There it is,” and clipped-clopped over.  I then ever so gracefully fell down the three marble ballroom stairs without ever realizing I had missed them with my cane.

                                        (Here is Liz with some friends and her cane! They are all adorable in hula skirts.)                                       

If this had happened to me before LCB I would surely have been mortified and retreated to my room to sulk in solitude.  Surprisingly, I wasn’t terribly embarrassed.  I got back up and laughed, and assured the friendly UPS volunteer I was fine.  I didn’t feel awkward as a blind person or like I needed to crawl under a rock; instead, I realized I wasn’t using my cane well enough and that, more importantly, I should first use the non-visual skills I was learning at LCB to gather information instead of throwing them aside when I thought my vision was accurate.

(Liz with friends and former LCB students Shantel Flores and Gabe Cazares)

I really knew I was hooked on using the long white cane after it was accidentally broken only two days into my week-long post-convention break.  Much to my chagrin, I was forced to take sighted-guide for the rest of the week.  I had tasted freedom and had no intention of going back to relying on others to get me where I wanted to go!

(Liz using her skills and enjoying the day at the Ruston Peach Festival)

As I gained more experience through my training, I learned techniques for crossing all types of streets and intersections; navigating indoors in wide open spaces without getting entirely turned around; how to use cardinal directions and mental mapping to stay on track; how to find businesses using the address system; ways to keep oriented in rural and outdoor areas; and how to get usable information from others so I could make my own decisions.  More importantly than the techniques I learned, I gained confidence through experience and learned how to talk to the public more gracefully.  As any blind person knows, people can sometimes act pretty silly around someone holding a cane or dog guide harness.

I had absolutely no idea how to talk to people about blindness or how to get the information I needed from them before LCB.  Honestly, it boiled down to the fact that I had no confidence as a blind person.  Confidence has a huge role in talking to others.  You need to be confident to put others at ease and to receive the amount of information or assistance you need.  I remember asking LCB students and instructors “how do you know what store you’re walking into.”  The answer, simply, is you ask!  Ask what the store is, what the address is, what they sell, what is on clearance, ask relevant and specific questions to get what you want.  If you as a blind person are confident in your abilities, others will be as well.  Confidence in one’s self as a blind person can only be earned through conquering or at least attempting and learning from truly challenging situations.

(Liz at her LCB graduation with her dad)

After graduating from LCB, I decided to pursue my master’s degree in Orientation and Mobility through Louisiana Tech University so I could help others gain that feeling of truly liberating independence I found through cane travel.  I am currently working on my internship from 8 to 5 at LCB teaching students at all levels of training.  I see aspects of myself in each of them: I see how high-strung and self-conscious I was before, I see how I had never thought of simple non-visual solutions like simply touching things to gather information, and I see the development of a positive philosophy about blindness being validated through successes in cane travel lessons.  They are learning these skills and building their confidence the same way I did, through meeting the high expectations set upon them by positive, competent blind role models.

(Here is Liz with others from the Professional Development and Research Institute on Blindness at Louisiana Tech, where she is getting her masters degree. Aren't they all just a cute bunch?)

The confidence gained through traveling under sleepshades with a cane is the most powerful confirmation of one’s abilities as a blind person.  It proves to one’s self and others that the blind are capable of going anywhere and participating in anything they wish.  This confidence and skills, however, must be developed over a period of time traveling under sleepshades with a long white cane and high expectations.  I hope that as a cane travel instructor I will help others build the confidence in themselves to live as a whole blind person rather than a damaged sighted person, the way that LCB did the same for me.

(Liz is pictured here with a student teaching them how to go down steps)

Thanks Liz!