Blindness doesn’t bring a whole lot of advantages. So I relish the ones I have. I walk arm in arm with people all the time. My dog goes with me everywhere. And when friends drive me somewhere? we park in handicapped parking!
Best of all, I can’t judge people by the way they look. Fat, skinny, beautiful, homely, young, old, White, Black– it’s all the same to me. I judge people “not by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character.”
From what I’m told, my friends these days have many different skin colors. I don’t always realize this when I first meet them. And the longer I am blind – nearly half my life now –, the less it matters to me. It’s getting where I don’t bother figuring out what new friends look like. I think of people more as impressionistic paintings, blurs and swatches of colors. And those colors are not always skin tones. Minerva, one of my favorite students in the writing class I teach for senior citizens, was violet. Dignified. Royalty. Billy, our bartender friend, is blue-green: thoughtful and funny, both at the same time.
Here’s the irony, though. While I am unconcerned with what people around me look like, I am paranoid about how I look to others. I was 26 years old when I lost my sight, and a Vietnam Vet who was blinded in a military training accident was assigned to teach me how to cook. A friend who visited me at Braille Jail (that’s what I called the facility I was sent to in order to learn new blind skills) told me what this teacher looked like. “Beth! You wouldn’t believe it! This guy has long sideburns and long hair. Bell bottoms! He looks like a rock and roller from the 70s!”
The year was 1985. I was horrified.
Right away I started fidgeting with the buttons on my denim jumper, wiggling my toes against the flat cotton shoes on my feet. These clothes I’d bought when I could see would wear out sometime. What would I replace them with? Would I forever DRESS as if it were 1985?
We didn’t have much money back then, but Mike saw to it from the start that I shop at the most expensive and exclusive clothing store in town. My first time there, I paraded out of the dressing room in a tight pair of leggings. The store owner gasped. “Oh, honey – you’ve got some big hips!” Now here was a woman I could trust.
I’ve never put on leggings again, but most of the clothing I’ve worn since has come from that store. I especially like buying dresses. No need to memorize which shirt matches which pants, or worry whether my top goes with my skirt.
I don’t want people to feel pity when they stare at Hanni and me. The staring doesn’t bother me that much anymore, I’ve gotten used to it. But as long as they’re watching, I want to look good. Apparently, I do. That’s what people tell me, at least. And Without being able to look in a mirror and judge for myself, I have the luxury of believing them.
Some sighted people work a lifetime to overcome visual prejudices. Blindness has given me an advantage. A handicap. I’m ahead of the race.
Perfect blog for the MLK holiday. Your color choice for Minerva was perfect!”Box of 64 crayons”- sounds like a book!
Dawn’s husband, Fred, is blind too, so the job of keeping Dawn’s wardrobe up-to-date is my job. I love it because it’s a fun girls’ day out, it shows how much Dawn trusts my judgment and at the same time satisfies my shopping jones without having to buy stuff for myself.
Beth, you have a great look—kind of Bohemian—relaxed and casual—and because you’re so tall and athletic-looking (I still think that you look like Lindsay Davenport, the tennis player), you probably have never had to know the meaning of a hem.
Aha, Benita, you are wrong there – I *have* needed to know the meaning of a hem. As in, “Ahem, Beth, the person you are gossiping about is standing right next to you…!”
And Marilee, your “Box of 64 Crayons” idea is well-timed – I just signed up to take a 4-hour writing seminar on Saturday, we’re supposed to “learn how to use personal, family, and even someone else’s history to create impactful writing.” I hate that use of the word “impactful” so much that I almost didn’t sign up, but the class is held nearby at Harrison and Michigan and the first part of the seminar is dedicated to figuring out “how to evaluate your idea for a particular work” so thought I’d give it a try.
Even if the seminar leaders can’t help me narrow in on the subject of my next children’s book, maybe the seminar will give me new ideas I can use when teaching my senior citizen memoir class!!
I had a strong feeling you’d do a riff on “a hem” the second I wrote it! Thanks for not letting me down.
ah I wish you were wrong about blindness and race. Being blind myself and having worked with many blind people and being involved in the blindness community to the small extent I am, I see racism all the time. the racism may be incorrect, as in “I think this person is black, because they sound black” for example, which is just as racist as being able to see that and then act on it. Same thing with fat/thin, rich/poor, etc. Just because one can’t see, one can still assume and making assumptions and acting on those can be just as dammaging.
Interesting! But haven’t you or your friends who are blind ever been *wrong* about someone’s skin color, or someone’s weight? What happens then? A quick example: Early on in my blindness I assumed Harry Connick, Jr. was African American. Based that on how he talked, where he was from. Had I known he was Caucasian, the only son of a judge in New Orleans, I may not have paid as much attention to him or marveled at his success at such a young age, would have assumed he’d been spoiled as a kid, had lots of advantages. By the time I was told he was White, I had already listened to his music for a long time and realized, hey, it didn’t matter — I still liked trying to imitate some of his chord changes when I sat down at the piano. That experience marked the beginning of my thinking of people as swatches of colors rather than skin tones.
Another example unrelated to skin color: I picture most people as being fit, not overweight. When I reach for an elbow to go sighted guide and feel a VERY BIG arm I am surprised, the person seemed so lively and energetic, but wow, they’re fat. By then it’s too late for me to stereotype the person as “fat and lazy,”, I’ve already formed an opinion on the person by what they say and what they do, not by their weight or skin color. Hope these examples are explaining what I mean…
You lay down some very good points here. and I can’t deny these are good points and may add to your points in your blog. I just think there’s a huge danger in categorizing blind people as not being racist. many sighted people assume that because we are blind we can’t be racist and all I’m saying is that’s not the case. I will say that I would hazzard a guess that not as many blind people are racist, but you better believe they are out there, and more prevalent than you think.
I also think that overt racism— he’s black so he must be lazy or not as smart as white people is perhaps not as prevalent— but I think underlying prejudice is still there.
an example of this is anyone can be racist by a last name. I can’t tell you how many people, both blind and sighted have assumed something about my nationalism or race because of my last name. You assume someone with the last name of Riverra, for example, would be Latino, but if it’s a woman, perhaps she married a Latino man, or maybe that person was adopted.
the same goes for how someone speaks. many in the African American community will say they have a certain accent, but I’ve met some white people who have grown up in largely African American areas that have the same accent.
I guess what I’m saying in my totally rambly and disjointed way is the examples you have given are mostly positive forms of race assumption and the examples I’ve seen are more negative and dammaging. It could also be based on how you spin it. I really hope this made sense. If not, I’ll use it as an excuse to ingest more coffee.
I’m with Marilee. There’s a “Box of 64” book in there somewhere. I know we’ve talked about this subject (“what do you think I look like?” questions from people) before Beth. And how you’ve said you have that luxury of it not mattering anymore … so, who cares? For what it’s worth, your “vision” is 20/20 when you talk to me about Monica, who you’ve just summed up perfectly at times. Great MLK Day post.
I really like your post and look at it in the same way you do. I appreciate the chance to get to know someone simply by who they are and not let what they look like impact that experience. I also love to shop, dress stylish and enjoy the latest fun things.
Am enjoying these comments from other people who are blind, interesting to get your perspectives!
Enjoyed Mikely’s comment, too, that I’d “summed up” his friend Monica perfectly. It gave me pause, made me think about what it is I’ve said to him about her – I remember asking him if she has a nice smile, because when she talks it often sounds as if she’s smiling. I’ve also told him how lovely her voice is, how I could listen to her talk for ages. Not just because she says smart things –which she does –but because her voice has such a nice resonance.
And so it was very interesting to hear Mikely say I have “20/20 vision” when it comes to Monica, as I don’t think I’ve ever summed her up by what she looks like, just by what she does (smiles!) and says.
So what color is Hanni, then?
Hanni? She is bright and sunny. And so, quite conveniently, she is…yellow.
Interesting comments.
I was thinking about how we use our appearance to make a statement about who we are, or how we want to be perceived. And that can change with the situation. Business suit vs. sweats. Hair highlighted and gelled or just pulled back. Make-up or not. Even our posture. There are many aspects of our appearance that we can control, but these don’t matter if the person we are trying to impress (or deflect or repulse or attract) can’t see us.
Ah, your comment brings up yet *another* interesting notion –There are times I give a speech or presentation and everyone in the audience is Blind. Even then I “dress up,” both out of respect for my audience and for myself – when I am dressed formally I feel more professional. That said, last summer I did an informal talk for teenagers who are blind, and for that I dressed down a bit so I’d feel more in synch. Sounds silly, I suppose, since *none* of us could see each other, but still, I can feel different emotions inside depending on what I’m wearing on the outside.
I’ve heard of many people who work at home who feel they need to shower and dress before they sit in front of their keyboards and start their work day. No one can see them, yet they don’t feel comfortable working in their PJs. Do they need to be dressed to feel professional, or impress people over the phone? And then there are countless others who work from home in their sweats. Hmm.
Another aside: along with the help of shopowners, I look for outfits that actually *feel* good when I’m wearing them –certain fabrics, certain textures, the lay of the fabric or the way it drapes. I find that when my clothes *feel* good on me, and I feel comfortable wearing them, I get more compliments on what I’m wearing.
So here’s some fashion advice from a woman who is blind: focus less on what looks good in the mirror and more on what feels good on the skin. After that, just wait for the compliments!
Hi, Beth,
Your blog is always so interesting! I’m looking forward to hearing or reading the essay on NPR. I doubt that we got it since our public radio station is in DeKalb not Chicago.
The “blind to race — way we look” discussion reminds me of how voices alone can create mental images even for sighted people. When I was young, I listened to the radio a lot and remember being surprised whenever I saw a photo of one of my favorite radio personalities. The opposite happened when John F. Kennedy ran for president. At first, I read about him in the newspaper and in magazines. I was about 15 at the time and thought he was quite dashing. What a shock when I heard him for the first time on the radio! It was a while before I was able to accept his voice and accent.
Readers are often unhapppy when a book is made into a movie and the characters don’t look OR sound the way they’ve been imagined. On the other hand, as an author of children’s books, I have to admit that my mental image of my characters is often very fuzzy when I first create them. I’m more interested in getting to know them inside — their thoughts, feelings, fears, what they love or hate. But eventually, I begin to “see” them, too. But the inside of people and characters — that’s what matters, I think, both in books and in the real world. So, Beth, even though you DO look great, I admire you for those inner qualities.
To bring this back closer to the topic (sorry I’ve wandered all over . . .), I remember when my husband was in graduate school and I was getting phone calls in responce to a sign I’d posted, offering to do home day care. A young mother called me about taking care of her two-year-old. I said I was certainly interested and we began to make plans to meet. Then she said, “I don’t know if it’s a problem for you, but I wanted to let you know before we go any further, we’re an African-American family.” I told her that made no difference to me. (We already had a four-year-old Black son–and eventually adopted four more). But I will always recall how I felt, hearing her say those words. It seemed truly dreadful that she thought her little boy might not be welcome, simply based on his appearance. I know the attitude toward race has changed tremendously since that day in 1974. But I wish we could all be seen as you “see” us Beth — as colors that probably match our inner qualities, not our skin.
Whoops! I hit “submit” before correcting some spelling mistakes or the box for notification of follow-up comments.
Sheila
Can’t say exactly why, but I found this blog entry to be the most interesting one so far. The idea of attaching colors to people means that, in some wild way, your world has much more color and visual appeal than the sighted person’s world. That is just about the coolest thing I’ve heard in a really long time.
Sheila, you say my blog is always interesting – well, I have the same opinions about your comments –*they* are always interesting, too! I know you are an illustrator as well as a children’s book writer, so I assumed you’d have the visual picture of your characters in your head first, then do the writing. How interesting to learn that the mental image of your characters is often very fuzzy when you first create them, you are more interested in getting to know them inside!
Another lesson for me, thanks!
And Francine, I gotta admit, I never thought about it that way, that my world might have more visual appeal than the sighted person’s world. That’s something to ponder!
I *will* say this, though –without being able to screen or filter people by the way they look, I find myself engaging with all sorts of people. Thanks to all the characters I meet, I often think, hey, maybe my world *is* a bit more colorful than the average Joe’s.
Beth,
I saw on the IL SCBWI listserve about your interview, and i just wanted to check out this great post. Very interesting! 🙂 And congrats on submitting an essay and getting some recognition. GO IL!!! 🙂
Margo
Dear Beth – Would that we were all “blind” to differences and as
accepting as you. Lee
Hi Beth – (I thought I’d left a comment, but even tho I’m sighted,
I don’t always see what I’m supposed to do!)
My comment: “Would that all people would “see” as you do!
Lee
[…] way I think of people now — as huge swatches of color. (For more about all that, link to my A blind eye to race […]
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