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Please Note: Copies of this newsletter will soon be accessible through Newsline. For ideas, or to submit an article, please e-mail it to the address above. You may also contact the editor via our toll-free number: 877-887-5902.
In This Issue:
A Word From the President Let the Freedom Bell Ring by Kathy Kennedy Making the Smooth Transition From Work to School by Diane Yoder A Voyage to Self Discovery by Amber Norwood From the Class to the Field by Jose Martinez Bridging the Gap: How A Weekend in Corpus Helped to Finance My Education by Krystle HillAt the time of this writing, we are a little over halfway through the term. I think of what we've accomplished and what remains to be completed before elections in October. Though I would not have anyone believe our student division functions according to a political cycle, the annual business meeting serves as a marker to measure our success and our deficiencies. Hence, I will save the chronological presidential report for our state convention. For now, I will tell you that what we have seen in the past few months only goes to prove the vitality of our student organization.
Based on general feedback, our spring conference achieved its intended purpose. Speakers representing various companies and organizations came out to speak to and mingle with our students. We were all reminded of how rapidly technology changes, and everyone was made aware of important services offered to facilitate various occupations inside and outside of the classroom. We heard from avid students who have lived through pressing challenges and survived to speak of their success with others. Most importantly, students were provided a glimpse of our movement in such a way as to inspire questions of the NFB as a whole and how they could become more active in our activities.
One way to become more active is to attend our upcoming conventions. The first is our national convention in Louisville. The agenda is far too expansive to begin describing, but speaking on behalf of those who have previously attended, I think everyone would agree that it is quite an unforgettable experience. More information can be found at www.nfb.org. And certainly not too far behind is our state convention, this year scheduled to take place in Dallas. Please check our web site for details. We will provide information as it becomes available.
Now I welcome you to our most recent issue of Keeping TABS. In this edition we hear from a parent who describes the temporary setback of her daughter and how, through fierce determination, her daughter was able to overcome obstacles once thought immovable. We then look at two sides of holding a job and the unique balance between working as a professional and working as a student. Because our audience will be dominated by persons making their way through high school and college, we conclude by giving you two very distinct stories of the college experience, one way to help fund it and another way to make it a bit more enjoyable.
If you have never submitted an article for our newsletter, we remind you that it is never too late to share your experiences. Remember, TABS is not always about us telling you how to achieve success. In many cases, it is about you helping us remind others that success can be achieved.
Cordially yours,
Joe Orozco, President
Texas Association of Blind Students
Editor's Note: Each issue of Keeping TABS attempts to feature an article from another NFB publication to provide a sense of the NFB organization as a whole. In this issue, we feature an article previously printed in the Fall 2003 issue of the Ohio affiliate's Buckeye Bulletin. Though not a Texan, Jennifer Kennedy is a good friend of TABS and is an inspiration regardless of her geographical origins. The article is a good reminder that without independence, one cannot hope to fully meet one's potential. The text follows:
Kathy Kennedy is the mother of Jennifer Kennedy, who is a student leader in the National Federation of the Blind of Ohio. She is also a 2001 National Federation of the Blind Scholarship winner. Here is what her mother has to say about Jen's recent rehabilitation experience:
What you are trying to tell me, Doctor, is that "Jennifer is now legally blind and progressing towards total loss of vision." How difficult those words were for a mother to embrace. The only thing that seemed real to me at the time was fear coupled with tremendous waves of grief. After all, this was not what I envisioned when the delivering doctor had pronounced her healthy just thirteen years before this devastating news was dropped like a ton of bricks on our family. "It isn't supposed to be like this, God!" I cried out in the privacy of my room that night with tears streaming down my face and my fists pounding. I thought, she has the ability, spirit, and determination to be a leader and excel in life. Without sight she'll lose her independence, have to settle for less of a career than she is mentally capable of, and forfeit the right to live life fully. I could not answer the simplest questions regarding how blind people function in a sighted world. I've never felt so helpless, hopeless, and empty.
That was over seven years ago. During these years Jen has lost more field vision, light perception, and visual acuity. With training funded by the Bureau of Services for the Visually Impaired (BSVI), she began using a cane. She was also introduced to Braille and was given some adaptive equipment. She got a CCTV, a computer equipped with JAWS, magnifiers, etc. Even with this equipment in place, Jen continued to make demands on her eyes. She was in pain both physically and mentally. Blindness began taking a toll on her. Her self-confidence and ability to function independently were slipping away as her vision diminished.
During the spring of her freshman year in college Jennifer bottomed out. Navigating the campus was difficult. Her eyes were no longer trustworthy, and the more she used them the more pain and frustration she experienced. She felt isolated in her journey into blindness, and she knew it was time to get help. "It's time to head for the Louisiana Center for the Blind (LCB), Mom," the desperate voice on the phone cried out. After a call to her BSVI counselor and a visit to her academic advisor, she exited the university and returned home. Jen had done her homework. She had already been to the Cleveland Sight Center and recognized that they had nothing more to offer her. She researched the programs of other rehabilitation facilities in the state and talked to consumers of those programs. None were as thorough and exhaustive as necessary to make blindness skills second nature. Jen knew she had to be in a program that forced her to deal with blindness during every waking hour. Moreover, it was not enough to learn the skills of blindness; she had to develop a positive philosophy about blindness. She concluded that this could only be done if she was surrounded by people who believed in the inherent normality of blind people. After much investigation, consideration, soul-searching, and agonizing about going so far away from home, Jen determined that she needed the rigorous training offered by the Louisiana Center for the Blind. She had done conscientious research and had carefully compared the confidence and skills of LCB graduates against the attitudes and abilities of Ohio residents who had completed the adult training programs offered by local agencies, and she knew that she was making an informed choice about the services she needed and the best provider to deliver them. She assumed that the funding she needed would be approved quickly by BSVI, but two weeks later came the reply-funding to go out of state for services denied.
She spent the next six months at home, frustrated, depressed, and filled with anxiety. It was agonizing for her father and me to watch this. We knew that the adjustment to blindness was difficult enough that she didn't need anything else added to it. We agonized about what we could do to help her get to the Louisiana Center. Unfortunately, we knew we did not have the money to help her. It was excruciating to know that help and hope were dangling just out of her reach, but we could do nothing to bring them close enough to her to make a difference. Through Jen's determination and the commitment, strength, and dedication of Eric Duffy and the NFB of Ohio, the decision to refuse funding was overturned. At last Jen was (as Jim Gashel said in his banquet address at the NFB of Ohio 2002 convention) beginning to move from the role of victim to victorious.
Once she arrived in Louisiana, it was difficult for us catch Jen in her apartment in the evening. She was going roller-skating under sleepshades, rehearsing for plays, cleaning her apartment for inspection, or planning and shopping for groceries to complete her cooking requirement for graduation. She had to cook and serve two meals. One was for eight people, and the other was for forty. How many of us have ever cooked and served a meal for forty people? She phoned one night from New Orleans to tell us about sleepshade navigation in crowds. She was at Mardi Gras! Her father and I could feel her confidence building as each month passed. She told us about all the new power tools she was using in industrial tech and about the original black-walnut jewelry box she was designing and creating for her final project. We marveled as the LCB, which had once seemed so far away from Ohio, became a part of our home through instructor-e-mailed pictures of Jen using the band saw, router, table saw, and other power equipment. She completed a college class at Louisiana Tech under sleepshades. She took notes with a slate and stylus. She was determined, as Dr. Fred Schroeder once wrote in the Student Slate (a publication of the National Association of Blind Students), to learn "the skills of blindness which, in the final analysis, will allow him or her to truly function on an equal footing with others."
After eight months at the LCB, Jen invited her father and me to graduation. We were excited about making the trip. We wanted to see the facility and meet the wonderful people who were inspiring her to achieve such independence. We wanted to see where she lived and how she had learned. She graduated this past June. The ceremony was a true celebration as each student and instructor took the opportunity to talk about Jen's growth and reminisce about humorous things. We heard stories about the completion of her final travel requirement. She had to complete a 5.6-mile independent walk around the town of Ruston. As we listened, adults of all ages commented on what an inspiration Jen was to them, urging them to strive to be all they could and to forge ahead on days when they'd rather pull off the shades and say, "I can't do this!" As one student commented, "This is one spunky girl." We heard how she recaptured her life and was living it fully. The Center was filled with people, warm, supportive, and loving, each more special than the next. Here were adults facing their fears and reclaiming their lives with the help of LCB's outstanding instructors, all of whom either are blind or can function under sleepshades in their area of instruction.
Jen returned home for a visit, but the week after the national convention she flew to Maryland to work with the NFB Corps. She was excited to have a real job and put her skills to the test. It took no time at all to realize that we no longer had a blind daughter named Jennifer Kennedy; rather our daughter Jennifer views her blindness as a mere inconvenience. It is easy to see why she insisted on the best rehabilitation facility available, with a program unparalleled in its field. She learned the philosophy of blindness and how to handle herself in various public situations. She learned when to accept assistance and when to insist on her right to remain independent. She travels with grace and poise gained from the travel experiences she mastered. Whether she is using public transportation, walking through airports, or exploring new cities, she strides with confidence. The NFB program worked because she lived it twenty-four hours a day. Sometimes she spent evenings in her apartment memorizing play lines or reading sixty pages of Braille to increase her speed from twenty words per minute to ninety-five. She spent evenings with readers transcribing the autobiography of Michael J. Fox into Braille. She presented the completed book to the LCB library upon her graduation. This fulfilled her computer requirement. Graduation from LCB brought with it far more meaning than graduation from high school. Indeed this was something special she worked very hard to achieve. As part of the graduation ceremony Pam Allen, the director of LCB, presented her with a freedom bell complete with engraved name and graduation date. Jen rang the bell with vigor and a smile that seemed to span a mile. As parents, our hearts and eyes overflowed with tears of gratitude and pride. We also left LCB having been given a gift, freedom from the worries about blindness and the future for our daughter. Instead we were filled with the knowledge that our daughter has a future filled with promise, the skills necessary to succeed, and the NFB there to support her each step of the way.
Editor's Note: Diane Yoder is currently a first year doctorate student in rehabilitation administration at the University of Texas. Among other countless awards, she has been the recipient of the ELISA COSTILLA ENDOWED SCHOLARSHIP IN EDUCATION. Diane enjoys singing and has previously been chosen by Congress to perform for the National Advocacy of the Arts. She was the keynote speaker at this year's spring conference for our student division. On her spare time, Diane enjoys sky diving, bungee jumping, rowing and ballroom dancing. She has certainly spent a number of years wearing countless hats, and in this article, we learn of how she has dealt with going from a professional to a student, her challenges and how she has overcome these obstacles.
I am honored to contribute an article for the Texas Association of Blind Students. As I reflect on my own transition from work to school I find many similarities to the transition process from school to work. My career in Transition (school to work) began in 1989 when I worked as a college entry counselor. Throughout the years, my understanding of student empowerment and its role in transition success continues to increase especially now that I am a full-time doctoral student. Like the students I taught, my academic success relies on the confidence to achieve and the competence to complete academic tasks.
Transition, as defined in the Individuals with Disabilities Education Act, focuses on the identification of individual student needs. Smooth transition from school to work or post-secondary education depends on many factors. The transition process relies on the development of academic and everyday living skills, adjustment to the disability, and strong linkages to support systems. Hence student confidence and competency make college life a successful one.
I am in my first semester and finals are around the corner. Academic opportunities are filled with competitive challenges. As the only blind student in the program, I often need to cope with misunderstandings of blindness. A successful outcome requires confidence as a blind person. I learn confidence through internalization of the NFB philosophy. When I attend a meeting, read the Braille Monitor or attend convention I enhance my confidence.
Having confidence allows me to participate fully on group projects and meet the same expectations as my sighted peers. For example, when a member of our group presentation got sick, I was able to jump in and cover her tasks. There was never a doubt in my mind I could complete additional duties. Attitudes shape our behavior, and having a confident attitude ensures inclusion.
I was told I didn't have to achieve in the same ways other students do and that I should just compete against myself. I know that if I want the same kind of opportunities as other people, I have an obligation to be as equally qualified. A confident attitude provides a defense against the oppression of low expectations and moves me ahead toward equality and success.
My first semester has other challenges. Limitations in technology and accessibility create barriers yet there are multitudes of alternative techniques that help to problem solve the random situations. Braille keeps production flowing through use of a slate and stylus. Direct communication creates a partnership with my professors and ensures my accommodations. Whether attending class, traveling around campus or dealing with difficult professors, problem-solving skills are imperative to academic success.
I use Braille when I teach classes, need to take notes or look up references. I have found some of my books through web sites that offer electronic texts. I do a lot of research, and navigation of several databases at a time requires proficiency in technology. I am often expected to communicate with my class through bulletin boards and need to routinely post assignments on the web. The more I explore and experience success on the computer, the better I get. I am not a computer guru and it is like a big adventure. The last time I attended school I used a typewriter for assignments and the card catalogues were on paper!
Lastly, advocacy skills are a necessity. I communicate with professors about my accommodation needs and still there are times they forget to provide me with class documents. It takes confidence to advocate for these items sometimes on a weekly basis. Again, alternative techniques save the day. When electronic materials are not provided the use of a reader or scanning transfers the needed information. Flexibility and persistence make these difficult situations manageable.
Oh yes, I forgot to mention the Services for Students with Disabilities. At first glance, their services seem helpful. My experience this semester taught me it is better to use them as little as possible even if they have a super large scanner that converts the whole book all at the same time! Their procedures and practices squelch my autonomy and slow down my pace. I don't have time to wait; there are deadlines to meet. There were a couple of instances where my translated documents were delivered late and this was enough to convince me to rely on myself as much as possible. It seems to me, people think that blind students have all the time in the world to sit and wait!
My academic success increases when I connect with other blind students. Experienced competent blind students offer the most reliable information on college life. I receive information about campus directions, useful resources, technology solutions and overall college life. I find competent mentors in the NFB.
I was told the APA handbook was not scannable. After talking to other blind doctoral students, I received a scanned version from a student whose blind wife scanned the book! Professionals in the field will tell me no but my mentors in the NFB tell me yes. If experience is the best teacher, then the NFB must offer the best education around due to its tremendous history of experience from the people who are blind themselves.
I admit, I was nervous returning to school. I called many students at the beginning of the semester and asked questions and wrote down their words of wisdom. I learned from their failures and successes. These mentors freely shared their time, resources and encouragement with me. It made the difference between a successful semester and an unsuccessful one.
In conclusion, these are only a few of the factors that have helped me make a smooth transition from work to school. I am grateful to my friends in the NFB for their support. I am surrounded with many examples of strength, creativity and success. In addition, I have the love and support from my husband and parents who also embrace the philosophy. I had the opportunity to attend a training center immersed in the NFB philosophy. I urge any student reading this to go to a NFB center; it will change your life in ways you never dreamed were possible.
Transitions are a part of life no matter what age. Whether attending college for a first degree or fourth, the success equation remains the same. Attitudes plus skills plus connections make dreams come true. Everyone makes a transition of some kind and confidence and competence ensure success.
Editor's introduction: Amber is a new friend to the Texas Association of blind Students, and is what we call a real go getter. In the following article, Amber describes how a short hiatus from her education was filled with many life learning experiences. Employment is a huge issue in the blind community, and we are all ways glad to hear about blind person's adventures in the work force. We hope to hear more from Amber in up coming Newsletters and future seminars.
My name is Amber Norwood. I am 21 years old, and since birth, I have been legally blind. Because of my blindness, life has thrown many challenges my way. The past few years especially, have presented * challenging situations, but also new opportunities. Although I've known for a long time about things that interested me, deciding what I really wanted to do with myself has been a mystery.
In the summer before my junior year of high school in 1999, I was involved in a three month summer internship program with GSA (General Services Admission). I worked in the Systems department answering calls, entering data, troubleshooting, and eventually correcting some small computer problems myself. GSA made adaptations to my blindness with a Close Circuit Television and zoom text computer software. It was after my exposure to this professional atmosphere that I considered graduating a year early and getting into the working world.
After taking a few senior classes during the next summer in 2000, I graduated one year early from A&M consolidated high School in college Station. From there, I moved back to Fort Worth, the location of my internship, the previous summer. I decided on Fort Worth because I deduced that a bigger city would have more job opportunities and readily available public transportation. Both things would be vital for self support and for being self reliant.
From my work with GSA, I had a variety of short lived experiences. I seasonally worked in a photography studio for the fall of 2000. The experiences that I gained, such as interaction with people and technology helped broaden my communication and interpersonal skills. I then worked for a few months at a small print shop as a telemarketer selling custom made sportswear. Due to a variety of reasons, I then found a job at the mall and worked for a summer at Bath and Body Works, and next was my job for Charlotte Russ, a trendy ladies apparel store. After my occupations in the marketing and retail fields, I knew I wanted to work with other people and help them in some way. However, I was still uncertain as to how to reach my goal.
In May of 2002, I got a call about an available part-time position at the Fort Worth Lighthouse for the Blind as a rehabilitation assistant. After two extensive interviews with supervisors, I knew the job was perfect. Working for the Lighthouse had been one of the most versatile experiences I have ever had. Modifications and training were given patiently and generously. I supported the sales, community service, accounting, and rehabilitation departments through correspondence, voucher reports, and organization. I also had the privilege of assisting in the Summer Youth Work Program, atwo month activity that provided summer jobs for blind high school students. It was also at the Lighthouse that I really polished my Spanish skills. I began conducting consumer assessment interviews in Spanish and translating during orientation and mobility lessons for Spanish speaking employees. My passion for helping others and my intrest in using Spanish grew, but it was stilll limited. I honestly felt like something was missing.
After downsizing at the Lighthouse in April of 2003, I had to make a decision about wherelife would take me next. I accepted a compensation job at the SERVMART at the Carswell Reserve Base in Fort Worth for several months. Thanks to stacking shelves, sweeping, and delivering 50 pound cases of computer paper for five months, I was able to come to the realization that I wanted more to my life than mundane routine. Although the job was accommodating my financial needs, there was no room for advancement. Upon that realization, I faced the fact that I would need to somehow improve my credentials to achieve what I wanted to do.
After much consideration, I knew that to achieve my goals, and full potential I would need to go back to school. A week later I enrolled at Tarrant County College in Fort Worth, Texas. Although at times it can be a long commute, I am able to use the public bus to get back and forth to school, and thus maintain my independence. Currently, I have completed 31 credit hours, I am on the Dean's list, and I'm working toward an Associates of Applied Science degree in business with occupational specialty in Human Resource Management. I have benefited both professionally and personally from my education thus far and hope to work with others, helping them find jobs they love, specifically reaching out to the blind Spanish community that is growing so rapidly right here in Texas. Through my voyage, I was able to find myself, and better who I am. I hope to one day pass the importance of reaching one's full potential and the importance of the voyage to self discovery to others.
Editor's Note: Jose Martinez serves as treasurer to the Texas Association of Blind Students. He is currently a sophomore at Texas State University and is majoring in public relations, minoring in social work. A bright and dedicated student, Jose maintains enviable grades but reminds us in this article that the college experience is not always about books.
When I first came to college, I did not know anyone and that was, to say the least, a bit intimidating. But I thought, "So what, I'm here to get an education, not to meet up with friends." So I went on knocking out my studies. But the feeling of doing something that I enjoyed and would help me with relieving stress was missing in my daily activities. That was when I came across an e-mail that was promoting intramural soccer.
I was a bit hesitant. I didn't know how my peers were going to react or if I was even going to make one of the teams. I even said to myself, "Maybe I should wait a year so I can get to know more people and I am more comfortable." But I realized that in order to be successful in my studies, I had to have something that I could use to relieve stress and help me clear my mind. In that way, I could begin to study with more efficiency.
So I casually spoke with the director and explained my situation. Actually, everything went well. He had no problem with me joining a team. Of course, things weren't always that easy. At first, my teammates felt that I did not fit in with them, but time went by and I persistently kept going to practice. Eventually, they had no choice but to accept me as the dedicated athlete I was proving to be.
I really had a great time playing. I enjoyed the sport, and being around people who actually started liking having me around made things that much better. Before each game, one of the other guys would orient me to the field. Before the ball was passed in my direction, they all agreed to call my name so that I could know when to expect the pass and make my play accordingly.
All in All, it was a rewarding experience. It was great to just hang out with the boys. If there's one thing I learned, it was that one can always prioritize school and social activities. Studying is beneficial, but every now and then, we all have to get out there and have a little fun. Blindness does not have to keep you from having as much fun as anyone else.
Editor's Note: Krystle Hill is currently a freshman at Stephen F. Austin University. She is double majoring in political science and Spanish and hopes to practice international law. She was also one of four scholarship recipients at last year's state convention. In this article, she tells her story of that very weekend.
Eventually, most of us will have gone through it. I certainly did, and it is an experience I am not likely to forget anytime soon. There is nothing in the world like the college selection process. It is very hectic. However, it is not so much waiting for the letter in the mail to determine acceptance or rejection that makes one feel so anxious. Once that bridge has been crossed, there is yet another large bridge that must be conquered. It's the ominous concept of financial aid, and in many ways, this second question can be just as complicated as the first. In my case, I was fortunate enough to have had the question answered for me.
I will never forget the day. My mother and I were out shopping. We were about to enter a store when she received a phone call from my step-dad. He informed her that a lady had called to say that I had received a state-level scholarship from the National Federation of the Blind of Texas. I was ecstatic, to say the least! To me, this meant two things- financial assistance for college and a weekend in Corpus Christi where the state convention was to be held.
But of course, because things never work quite the way we want, this fact presented a little bit of a conflict for me. The state convention that I was required to attend was the Friday after move-day at Stephen F. Austin State University, the college I'd decided to attend. My family moved my brother into his respective school, and then we were off to move my own things the day before I was to fly out of Tyler. After getting over the realization that Tyler actually had an airport, I flew to Dallas and boarded the second plane, where I met the other three scholarship winners: Samuel, Amechi and Janice.
When we arrived in Corpus Christi, we were shuttled to a Holiday Inn that was conveniently right on the beach. We registered, found our rooms and, naturally, headed for the beach. The highlight of the evening was the business meeting of the Texas Association of Blind Students, where we had our first opportunity to introduce ourselves to the convention guests. I was interested to listen to the informative speakers.
The next day, I had the pleasure of having breakfast with the chair of the scholarship committee, Ms. Elizabeth Campbell. She and I discussed many interesting things, such as her experiences while a student at Baylor University and her experience after having attained her degree in journalism. Ironically, Ms. Campbell is also interested in Spanish as am I. She asked me questions about my goals in life and what degree I hoped to earn. When I told her of my having a double major in political science and Spanish and that I hoped to become a bilingual international attorney, she was not at all surprised. She proved to be quite encouraging.
The rest of the day was spent involved in informative meetings addressing a myriad of topics. At noon, scholarship winners were spoiled in an exclusive luncheon where we all discussed our future plans with the scholarship committee. Leaving that luncheon was quite a suspenseful moment since it was there that the committee decided who would receive what award. The awards would be distributed at that evening's banquet, so one can only imagine the mounting anxiety of having to wait so long!
Finally, the banquet arrived. We were all served a nice dinner, and then the scholarship awards were announced. I was given the scholarship in the amount of $1,000. Janice and Amechi both received the $1,500 scholarships, and Samuel received the $2,000 scholarship. After receiving the $2,000, Samuel gave a wonderful speech which made it obvious that he was receiving his master's degree in communications. I was proud to be in a scholarship class of future leaders. Janice attends Texas A& M University at College Station and is majoring in Psychology. Amechi is a graduate student in Accounting at the University of Texas at Dallas. Samuel is receiving his master's degree in communications and attends the University of North Texas in Denton.
I would like to conclude by saying that I will never forget the weekend that I spent in Corpus Christi. If any student ever has the opportunity, whether they are scholarship recipients or not, they ought to attend at least one state convention by the National Federation of the Blind of Texas. For me, it was quite a unique experience.