THE BRAILLE MONITOR January, 1990 Kenneth Jernigan, Editor Published in inkprint, Braille, on talking-book disc, and cassette by THE NATIONAL FEDERATION OF THE BLIND MARC MAURER, PRESIDENT National Office 1800 Johnson Street Baltimore, Maryland 21230 * * * * Letters to the President, address changes, subscription requests, orders for NFB literature, articles for the Monitor, and letters to the Editor should be sent to the National Office. * * * * Monitor subscriptions cost the Federation about twenty-five dollars per year. Members are invited, and non-members are requested, to cover the subscription cost. Donations should be made payable to National Federation of the Blind and sent to: National Federation of the Blind 1800 Johnson Street Baltimore, Maryland 21230 * * * * THE NATIONAL FEDERATION OF THE BLIND IS NOT AN ORGANIZATION SPEAKING FOR THE BLIND--IT IS THE BLIND SPEAKING FOR THEMSELVES ISSN 0006-8829 NFB NET BBS: (612) 696-1975 WorldWide Web: http://www.nfb.org THE BRAILLE MONITOR PUBLICATION OF THE NATIONAL FEDERATION OF THE BLIND CONTENTS JANUARY, 1990 OF RESOLUTIONS AND RETROSPECTION SOUTH CAROLINA DIRECTOR PERMITTED TO RESIGN: ORGANIZED BLIND PREVAIL by Donald C. Capps SWEEPING UP THE KRUMS: CALIFORNIA STATE POLICE INVESTIGATE THE BUSINESS ENTERPRISE PROGRAM by Barbara Pierce BLIND FAITH by Mike Pearson SCHOLARS ARE SOMETIMES STUMBLING BLOCKS by C. Edwin Vaughan, Ph.D. STATE DEPARTMENT THINKS TWICE ABOUT THE WISDOM OF BREAKING FEDERAL LAW THE BLIND SCIENTIST AT LOS ALAMOS by John Rowley, Ph.D. TECHNOLOGY AND THE JOB by Curtis Chong LITERACY: THE KEY TO OPPORTUNITY by Fred Schroeder ETHEL INCHAUSTI: LOCAL LEADER FROM FARCE TO SLAPSTICK: HOW MUCH LOWER CAN THE IOWA DEPARTMENT FOR THE BLIND SINK? SHACKLED IMAGINATION: LITERARY ILLUSIONS ABOUT BLINDNESS by Deborah Kent Stein BLINDNESS: IS LITERATURE AGAINST US? by Kenneth Jernigan SOCIAL SECURITY, SSI, AND MEDICARE FACTS FOR 1990 LETTER FROM A STATE DIRECTOR WHITE CANE/GUIDE DOG SAFETY DAY RECIPES MONITOR MINIATURES Copyright, National Federation of the Blind, Inc., 1990 OF RESOLUTIONS AND RETROSPECTION From the Editors: We wrote it; we believe it; and we hope you will do something about it. Here it is: Whether you are a purist, believing that no new decade begins until the date ends in the number 1, or whether your view is the simpler one that, when the digit in the tens place changes, the new decade has arrived, we can all agree that the Nineties really are here. The National Federation of the Blind enters the last eleven (or is it ten) years of the century and, for that matter, of the millennium in a much more vigorous and active position than it did the Eighties. Our growth since the National Center for the Blind opened for business in February, 1979, has been meteoric. We came from Iowa with a staff of three in the spring of 1978 and rented an office which doubled as a bedroom. The boxes of material were stacked so high that the spaces between them seemed more like tunnels than pathways. When we took possession of 1800 Johnson Street with somewhat under 10,000 square feet of office space for our use, we thought ourselves incredibly lucky, and so we were. But the best still lay ahead. In the almost eleven years that we have occupied the Center, we have renovated for our own use an additional 140,000 square feet of space, as well as remodeling virtually all of the areas rented by our tenants. At the same time our staff has grown more than a thousand percent. This personnel expansion has occurred in an effort to keep pace with the explosion of crises and challenges demanding our attention. Luckily, with hard work and dedication on the part of committed Federationists at every level of the organization, our income has increased enough thus far to keep pace with the cost of our escalating programs. In 1989 the National Federation of the Blind raised more money than ever before in a single year. This would be a statement worthy of rejoicing if our expenses had not increased at a still greater rate. We are doing what we can to conserve our resources since, unlike the federal government, we cannot print money when we find ourselves running a little short. But everyone will have to help if we are to avoid slashing programs that blind people have come to depend upon. If you are a frequent reader of the Braille Monitor , you will remember reading the notice that says, Members are invited and non-members are requested to cover the costs of their subscriptions. Though the cassette and Braille editions cost considerably more than either the print or the disc versions, we have established $25 as the subscription rate for the Monitor . If you enjoy reading this periodical and truly cannot afford to contribute the cost of your subscription, we want you to continue to receive the publication anyway. Getting the information included in these pages into the hands of the blind of the nation is one of the most important services we perform. But if remembering to send your subscription check for the Monitor is one of those little tasks that keep slipping your mind, this is the moment to drop everything and go write it. While we are mentioning small notices that readers begin and then skip, remember the one that starts, If you or a friend would like to remember the National Federation of the Blind in your will,... ? Have you taken the time to do something about that suggestion? Almost all of us have a little financial worth, and even a token remembrance will help us carry on our struggle for justice and equality in your memory. Together we can insure that the work of the Federation continues, but it will take all of us to accomplish this goal. You can help by working with your local and state affiliates to strengthen the organization and to meet the needs of blind people in your area. You can recruit your friends and acquaintances as members-at-large and invite them to become associates of the Federation. You can also contribute whatever you can to support our work, and you can pay for your 1990 subscription to the most influential publication in the field of work with the blind right now. Together we can insure that none of our programs has to be cut back painfully in the coming year. Happy New Year to you, and may 1990 be filled with accomplishment and prosperity for us all.SOUTH CAROLINA DIRECTOR PERMITTED TO RESIGN: ORGANIZED BLIND PREVAIL by Donald C. Capps As Monitor readers know, the National Federation of the Blind of South Carolina has been engaged for a number of years in a struggle to improve the quality of service provided by the South Carolina Commission for the Blind. (See the February, 1989, Braille Monitor story about audit shenanigans and telephone abuses in the Commission.) William James, Director of the Commission, has never been a friend to the blind. He has refused to be accountable to the people he serves, and beyond that, he has done everything he could to make life difficult for the organized blind movement. When word began filtering out, therefore, on September 20, 1989, that the Commission Board had permitted James to tender his resignation provided that he clear out his desk within two days, there was rejoicing among the blind of the state. The straw that broke the camel's (or in this case the Commission's) back was a nasty problem with a senior staff member who was making racial slurs and in other ways setting a tone in which charges of racial discrimination were rocking the agency. James did nothing decisive to clean up the situation despite an outcry made by virtually all the Commission's black employees. (See the Monitor Miniature section of the October, 1989, issue of the Braille Monitor .) The situation provided the excuse the Board needed to respond to the growing pressure brought by the National Federation of the Blind of South Carolina for the removal of the Commissioner. The temperature had been rising steadily on Board members since the NFB of South Carolina's legislative banquet in February, 1989, where legislators were given copies of a brochure detailing the serious problems within the agency and making clear the Federation's contention that James was ultimately responsible. In the two days James was given to wind things up, he apparently intended to call a staff meeting for Friday the 22nd, but hurricane Hugo canceled that plan. Instead James wrote a bizarre farewell message to the staff, part of which is reprinted in this article. It is not surprising that a man who had just been fired should try to put the best, most cheerful face he could on the situation, but the tone of William James's comments is peculiar, to say the least. He is clearly a bitter man with little judgment, who is striving to appear to have a sense of humor. Perhaps if he had treated the blind of South Carolina with respect and dignity, if he had been committed to working with them to solve their problems, he would not have found himself in this difficult and painful situation. Perhaps, too, his successor will have the intelligence to learn from James's mistakes. Let us hope so. The blind of South Carolina deserve better than William James. Here is the article that appeared in the Fall, 1989, edition of The Palmetto Blind, the publication of the National Federation of the Blind of South Carolina: On Wednesday, September 20, in Executive Session the Board of Commissioners of the South Carolina Commission for the Blind accepted the resignation of William K. James, who had served as commissioner of the agency since July, 1984. The resignation was not unexpected by the NFB of South Carolina. At the August convention of the NFB of South Carolina, the state president told the members that the Commission was actually sitting on a powder keg. A few days following the Federation convention a lengthy article appeared in the [Columbia, South Carolina] State which covered racial strife at the Commission caused by the racial slurs by Paul Jones, Director of Administrative Services, who was hired by Mr. James only a few months ago. News of Mr. James's resignation was carried by several newspapers. The State contained the following comments by Mr. James. He said that he felt powerless to bring about a speedy solution...[to] a serious racial problem within the agency. I feel that somebody can, James said, I think it is very important that it be done for the agency to continue on course. I would like to say I have enjoyed working for the agency...I think it's an excellent agency certainly one of the best in the country...I can't say enough good things about the staff. The September 22 edition of USA Today stated the following: William James, 58, head of State Commission for the Blind that's been investigated since four black workers cited bias in August, leaves office today. He said he felt, `powerless to solve agency's racial problems.' One obvious thing the NFB of South Carolina believes Mr. James could and should have done was to fire Paul Jones immediately when his racial slurs were brought to James's attention. After all, the Commission for the Blind has a number of black staff members and also serves hundreds of black blind people across South Carolina. Had Mr. Jones been immediately discharged by Mr. James, the terrible and damaging press received by the Commission for the Blind would have been avoided. No doubt the concerns and grievances of black staff members have validity and should be fairly and effectively addressed. At the same time, the NFB of South Carolina is concerned that the public now has the perception that Mr. James's resignation was based entirely upon racial strife, which of course is not the case. It is also unfair to the black staff members to be blamed solely for the resignation of Mr. James as reported by the media. The NFB of South Carolina supports graceful resignations whenever and wherever possible, but at the same time, the affairs of the blind are too important for the public to be given a distorted picture. At last January's legislative dinner the NFB of South Carolina presented brochures to all legislators containing well-researched and documented information outlining the very serious problems associated with the administration of the Commission for the Blind. Copies of these brochures are still available. That is what The Palmetto Blind had to say about the exit of William James. It is interesting to consider what Mr. James thought it worthwhile to say to his staff upon the occasion of his precipitous departure. Memorandum from William James September 22, 1989 I deeply regret having to cancel the scheduled staff meeting because of the pending hurricane. I wanted to have the opportunity to personally express my appreciation to all of you for the outstanding job that you have done and for the support which you have given me. I also wanted to have the opportunity to pick a few bones with you before I left. First of all, you need to have a funny bone. Most of us take ourselves too seriously but do not take life seriously enough. If anybody wants to know why I resigned, you can tell them it was because of illness and exhaustion. The Board said they were sick and tired of having me around. I want you to know that I carry a grudge against no one I just get even. I must admit that I do have mixed feelings about leaving joy and ecstasy. Next, you need to have a wishbone. That's what sets us apart from other animals. We can catch a glimpse of how life can be better for others, as well as ourselves. The clearer this vision is and how our portion fits into the overall scheme of things, the more likely we are to realize our dreams. All of you have the opportunity to make your dreams come true. Don't let them slip through your fingers. The remaining portion of Mr. James's statement was the conventional commendatory sentiment about the staff and the work they have done. We certainly wish Mr. James no ill, but it seems clear to an outside observer that the South Carolina Commission for the Blind as well as the blind of South Carolina will be better off starting over. Let us hope that this time those charged with searching for and selecting a new Commissioner will avail themselves of the experience and expertise of the organized blind movement. SWEEPING UP THE KRUMS: CALIFORNIA STATE POLICE INVESTIGATE THE BUSINESS ENTERPRISE PROGRAM by Barbara Pierce Anyone who has ever suffered an injury knows that, unless you take great care to rehabilitate and strengthen the affected part, you will always experience twinges of pain and weakness in the area. Unfortunately, the same phenomenon is also frequently true of institutions. Old habits of sloppy practice and impulses to cut corners and blur distinctions die hard in bureaucracies. New brooms must sweep very carefully and very zealously indeed if they are to clean up old messes. Early in 1977 the San Francisco Examiner ran a series of articles exposing to the light of public notice a number of unsavory problems in California's Business Enterprise Program (BEP). Briefly, these included overpricing of equipment and supplies, disappearance of millions of dollars of inventory, and misappropriation of considerable amounts of the trust fund intended to assist the vendors in the BEP. Despite the then Director of the Division of Rehabilitation Ed Roberts's characterization of the problems as minor administrative and bookkeeping difficulties, major investigations were undertaken, and heads rolled as a result. One Roger Krum was brought in to head the BEP, and many thought that he was being demoted or punished (according to his own statement in the Examiner ) by being handed this assignment. But he went on to assure the reporter that he wanted the job because he knew that the man who could clean up this mess and did so would have his reputation made. He allowed as how he welcomed the challenge, or was it the opportunity. In the light of recent events in California, it is instructive to read the final article in the newspaper series. It appeared in the San Francisco Examiner on January 14, 1977. Here it is: Brown's Help to be Sought on Blind Mess by Jim Wood and Larry Kramer Senator Bill Greene, D-Los Angeles, says he will go personally to Governor Brown in an attempt to straighten out the state's tangled program for blind businessmen. Greene also has called on the state auditor general's office for a full report on the Business Enterprise Program. Greene said he was requesting action because the Department of Rehabilitation has never been able to present an accurate, definitive accounting of the BEP trust funds. For well over 10 years requests for precise figures have been met with evasions, he said. Greene also noted that there are compelling reasons to believe that accepted accounting and fiscal procedures have been violated. He said that disbursements have been made for purposes other than those spelled out in the state and federal laws concerning the BEP. Some of these have been challenged and others have been arbitrarily continued for lack of challenge, he said. Greene met last week with critics of the fund's management and with representatives of the auditor general's office to plan the investigation. Greene urged that particular note be taken by the auditors of using trust funds for administrative purposes and consultants' fees. Calling the program a morass of mismanagement, he said that the department had used single source vendors when competitive bids could have been obtained, spot purchases made for expediency, and obsolete equipment continued in use in the name of economy. All the foregoing has been done at costs far beyond any reasonable standards of good business practices and management, he said. Greene also told the auditor general's office that there is no precise central inventory of BEP equipment. Over the years, a considerable amount of BEP equipment has been disposed of in one way or another, he said. The accounting for this equipment, if any, is very suspect. At a news conference yesterday, Edward Roberts, director of rehabilitation, said the state auditor general has been quoted as saying there is no scandal in the fund. John Williams, the state auditor general, said, however: There is no way I can say at this time whether allegations that have been made are or are not true. That is the purpose of this audit. We don't have any documentation at this point that indicates any form of scandal, but we've just barely begun our field work, Williams said. At the news conference, Roberts called reports in the Examiner concerning the program false and misleading and said he fears they may do irreparable damage to our service for the blind generally. Roberts said he was proud of the program and regretted seeing it bruited in the public press. The program has minor administrative and bookkeeping problems. These have been rectified and have been corrected. he said. The series, quoting from taped interviews, said that Roger Krum, the program administrator, called the problem mind boggling and an eightball situation, and former administrator Robert Melody said the program faced a hell of a serious problem. At the news conference Elliott Allen, deputy director for administration, was asked whether it was possible for an individual to misappropriate funds or property from the program. The series had quoted a state report noting such a potential. The potential does exist. Allen answered. We are concerned about it. That is one of the things we are working on. Roberts added, however, that he is convinced that no corruption exists, even though central inventory is not complete. Krum was asked if the existence or location of equipment could be verified. He replied: The equipment in location can be verified. The equipment in the warehouses, most of it, can be covered. One of the things we're working on is a problem of having stuff not show up on a printout, or show up two or three times. Roberts said that we think of it in terms of a problem in accounting and the inventory system. We are in the process of rectifying these problems by establishing a new system. That's what the Examiner had to say twelve years ago. And what it is fair to ask has happened in the intervening years to rectify the situation? Surely with the computer revolution an inventory-management system has been put in place to keep track of the materials in use and warehoused in the nation's largest BE Program. At the very least the Trust Fund is now safe from sticky fingers, and the administrative staff has come to work with the BEP business people in an atmosphere of mutual respect and good will. After all, Mr. Krum came in intending to make his reputation for better or worse on what he could do with the Business Enterprise Program. And so he has! His attitude toward vendors has been clear for years. The BEP vendors report that he refers to them as the boys, a term which even the male vendors find demeaning. Mr. Krum also enjoys putting his feet up on his desk in his office and on tables when he is taking part in meetings in other rooms. Participants in these gatherings report that he points the toe of one shoe at the person whom he is addressing, particularly if he does not agree with or respect the individual. These are small things, but Californians find them indicative of his general attitude toward blind people who are not willing to be subservient. On May 5, 1989, the Vendors' Chapter of the NFB of California conducted a seminar for interested business people with an emphasis on issues of concern to those associated with the Business Enterprise Program. Jim Gashel, Director of Governmental Affairs for the Federation, was the keynote speaker, and the seminar was scheduled so that those interested in attending the spring meeting of the California Vendors Policy Committee (CVPC) could do so since both events were taking place in Sacramento at different times on the same day. The seminar was by all accounts a great success, and most of the attendees went on to the CVPC meeting. The regulations that established the Vendors Policy Committee stipulate that the Director of the Business Enterprise Program or his or her designee should attend this meeting, but Roger Krum has always brought a crowd of staffers (six were present on May 5) to participate in the meeting and, many vendors feel, to keep the Policy Committee in line. But this time a number of CVPC members requested that Mr. Krum or his designee stay in the room and that the rest of the staff members leave. Instead of complying with state regulations, Krum, his staff, and several members of the CVPC (including Krum's hand-picked Chairmen of the Policy Committee) walked out. A quorum of the Committee was left, however, and John Friesen was elected as chairman. So the group got down to work on the agenda of the meeting. Without the usual help of the BE Program support staff, minutes were taken, duplicated, and circulated. But Krum has steadfastly refused to recognize the actions of the Policy Committee taken that day, and one more festering problem has been added to the concerns of blind people in California. Sharon Gold, President of the NFB of California, wrote a long and informative letter to the state's vendors on May 20, 1989. She reviewed for them several issues and cases of general interest to blind vendors and offered the Federation's assistance to those who needed it. Then, in an effort to prepare the ground generally for the dispute that was clearly on the horizon, she raised several points for vendor consideration. The concluding paragraphs of her letter read as follows: ____________________ As you know, the California Vendors Policy Committee (CVPC) is mandated by federal and state law. The CVPC is to function separately from the Business Enterprise Program to present the views of the vendors to the licensing agency and is to represent the interests of the vendors in the policy- making decisions of the agency. Recently, certain disputes have arisen between the CVPC and Roger Krum, the Administrator of the Business Enterprise Program. Throughout California vendors are being prevailed upon to pass judgment and take sides. Information from both sides has come to me as well, and I have considered the following: Has the CVPC been functioning separately from the Business Enterprise Program as mandated by federal and state law? Have members of the CVPC been free to express their concerns during committee meetings without a threat of reprisal? Do vendors want a committee which is free to present the views of vendors to the BEP administration or a committee which is expected to transmit to the Business Enterprise Program policy suggestions which have been planned and solicited by the BEP administration and which rubber stamp the actions of the administration? Are the elected delegates taking an active part in the Vendors Policy Committee meetings? Does the Business Enterprise Program administrator have a moral or legal right to declare a CVPC meeting concluded when the delegates have not chosen to adjourn the meeting? Should the elected delegates be required to submit to the orders of the administrator and leave a CVPC meeting without carrying out the business on the agenda? To whom do the set-aside fees belong, and should the Policy Committee or the Administrator of the Business Enterprise Program have control over the expenditure of these funds? Do the delegates to the CVPC have authority to choose the chair of the Committee, or does the chair serve at the pleasure of the Administrator of the BEP, to be automatically accepted by the committee? These questions sent me to reread federal and state statutes relevant to the Business Enterprise Program. For the Vendors Policy Committee to function properly, it must be free to hold its meetings and conduct its business without undue influence of the licensing agency. It is not an accident that neither federal nor state statutes or regulations mandate that the licensing agency send a representative to the meetings of the Vendors. Policy Committee Bylaws (as amended January 17, 1989) do not mandate the presence of an agency representative but state that (m)eetings of the Committee may be attended by the Director or his designated representative... [not Directors or representatives]. The responsibility of the Licensing Agency is to provide to the Vendors Policy Committee such information as may be necessary for the Committee to make reasonable and educated decisions on behalf of the blind vendors. Further, the Licensing Agency must consider and respond to the recommendations of the Vendors Policy Committee. Where a licensing agency makes an effort to intimidate or otherwise to control the process of the functioning of the Vendors Policy Committee, it is almost certain that vendors will eventually notice the development of dissension between the administration and the vendors. A final note: following the May 5th CVPC meeting and under dates of May 8th and May 9th, letters were sent to Westley Whitelaw [the CVPC Chairman who walked out of the May 20 meeting] stating the Department's position concerning the chair of the Vendors Policy Committee. One letter was signed by Roger Krum, Administrator of the Business Enterprise Program, and one was signed by Hao Lam, Deputy Director, Program Management and Support Division. In reading the two letters, one finds much identical language. One also finds that the letters were prepared by the same secretary and that they were both printed on letterhead bearing the telephone number of the Office of the Business Enterprise Program. The program for blind vendors is an old and respected business opportunity for blind persons. The National Federation of the Blind of California stands firm in support of this program and the California vendors who are striving to bring their program into conformity with federal and state statutes and regulations. Cordially, Sharon Gold, President National Federation of the Blind of California ____________________ That is what Sharon Gold wrote on May 20, in the wake of the high-handed actions of Roger Krum and company. Life in the Business Enterprise Program apparently went on pretty much as usual across the summer. Then, on September 2, the Friday of the Labor Day weekend, the California State Police blew the whistle on what had been going on under the table. Officers escorted Krum and three others from their offices and off State property, and they changed all the locks on the warehouse doors so that no one could tamper further with the equipment and supplies supposed to be available for vendors. A Department of Rehabilitation spokesman repeatedly assured the Braille Monitor that the disappearance of 1.2 million dollars worth of inventory had been discovered during an internal Department audit and not by the police. Given the department's track record in identifying fraud, embezzlement, and payoffs in the past, perhaps the fact that the 1989 problems were discovered through an internal audit is worthy of commendation, but it hardly generates confidence in the objective observer or the vendor whose livelihood depends in significant measure upon the honesty of the Business Enterprise Program managers. Regardless of who discovered the discrepancy, however, the fact of the missing material was of real importance to California's blind vendors, so the NFB of California circulated a letter to them that weekend. Here it is: September 2, 1989 Dear California Vendors: An investigation has been launched in Sacramento which is of great importance to blind vendors in the Business Enterprise Program (BEP). According to the Sacramento Bee , Channel 3 News, and other informed sources, on September 1, 1989, four executives of the Business Enterprise Program were escorted from the Department of Rehabilitation BEP Office by State Police after an internal audit revealed that part of the Program's multi-million dollar equipment inventory is missing. While the news reports did not cite names, informants have identified the officials as Roger Krum, BEP Administrator; Jim Flint, Assistant Administrator; Joe Parlio, Supervising Business Enterprise Consultant (SBEC); and Tony Budmark, Property Manager. The four officials were placed on administrative leave until State Police can complete their investigation. During the investigation Hao Lam, Deputy Director, Program Management and Support Division of the Department of Rehabilitation, is serving as Acting Administrator of the Business Enterprise Program. The investigation reportedly involves 1.2 million dollars worth of allegedly missing BEP equipment equipment purchased with California Vendor Trust Fund monies. The National Federation of the Blind of California has received anonymously a copy of the Conference Notes concerning the missing equipment, which outlines eight findings concerning BEP equipment: 1. Physical Inventories 2. Correction Documents 3. Decal Tagging 4. Surveys and Dispositions 5. Transfers to Outside State Agencies 6. Lack of Monthly Reconciliation 7. Volunteer in Los Angeles Office 8. Notification of Alleged Theft of Equipment For your information a copy of the Conference Notes is included herewith. All five Business Enterprise Program equipment warehouses have been searched, and State Police have changed the locks on each warehouse to prevent tampering. The Department has announced that the BEP officials have been notified not to return to their BEP offices until further advised, not to go to BEP locations, and not to communicate with BEP staff, vendors, and contractors. A similar situation was discovered in 1976, shortly before Roger Krum became Administrator. During the week of January 10, 1977, a series of articles which revealed much about the 1976 investigation was published in the San Francisco Examiner . For your information, the 1977 series of articles is included with this letter. It is amazing how easily one could shift the date from 1977 to 1989 and have the content of the articles apply to the many problems which continue to plague the Business Enterprise Program today. For some time there has been rising dissension throughout the Business Enterprise Program between the vendors and the administrator. Blind vendors throughout the state have expressed concern about the unwillingness by the BEP Administration to disclose information relevant to the Vendors Trust Fund, into which each blind vendor pays the monthly six percent set-aside fee. An increasing number of vendors have been speaking out about irregularities and unfair practices in the Selection Committee process used to assign vendors to locations. The California Vendors Policy Committee Bylaws (as amended January 17, 1989) do not mandate the presence of an agency representative but state that meetings of the Committee may be attended by the Director or his designated representative... (not Directors or representatives). Therefore at the May California Vendors Policy Committee meeting, the delegates insisted that the Bylaws of the Committee be followed and invited Mr. Krum or his designee to remain in the meeting and instructed that the remaining six staff members leave in the past there have been as many as 8 staff members present at a given CVPC meeting for which there are 14 elected delegates. When Roger Krum tried to cancel the meeting, an intimidated few Policy Committee delegates followed Mr. Krum's orders and left the meeting, leaving behind a quorum to conduct the May business of the CVPC. Since the Committee meeting, Roger Krum has failed to recognize the CVPC's selection of its new Chairman, John Friesen. He has refused to address the new Chair or to recognize the other Committee-elected officers. This is a critical time for the Business Enterprise Program. If there was ever a time for vendors to unite, it is now! Inquiry should be made as to the management of the Vendor Trust Fund monies and the management of the equipment purchased with these monies. If a new administrator is to be chosen, vendors should insure that they play a role in the selection process. Some vendors have suggested the establishment of an Escrow Account to handle Vendor Trust Fund monies until the completion of the current investigation and until vendors receive assurances from the Department of Rehabilitation that proper audit controls are established for the Vendor Trust Fund and the equipment purchased from the Fund. Vendors wishing to join the Merchants Chapter of the National Federation of the Blind of California or to make a donation to help with the distribution of these materials may send $10.00 annual dues and/or donations to Nick Medina, Treasurer, Merchants Chapter, NFB of California, 2018 Newton Way, Concord, CA 94518. Vendors may also contact Frank Rompal, Jr., President of the Merchants Chapter of the NFB of California, at 415-236-3800. Cordially, Sharon Gold, President National Federation of the Blind of California ____________________ That was the news that the NFB of California communicated to the vendors around the state the day after the police escorted Roger Krum and his minions off State property. Federationists were pleased to know that state government was prepared to hunt for the missing inventory and assign responsibility for the disappearances, but there were very real fears that the trouble ran still deeper. As in the late Seventies there was worry about the trust fund. Vendors pay a monthly charge (six percent of net proceeds in the case of California). This is called a set-aside, and out of this pool the Department of Rehabilitation pays certain costs of conducting the Business Enterprise Program. With so much else going wrong in the BEP, Vendors were naturally worried about the safety of the trust fund. Blind people began asking whether it wouldn't be prudent to appoint a conservator to manage the trust fund until the investigation was completed. Sharon Gold approached Congressman Robert Matsui's staff with our concerns, and they too were alarmed. As a result, on September 11 Congressman Matsui's office asked the Attorney General of California to appoint a conservator, and he agreed to do so within ten days. Meanwhile, the NFB called a meeting of all interested parties for September 22 so that vendors could hear from everyone involved and make up their own minds about what was happening. A staffer from Congressman Matsui's Sacramento office came, as did Sharon Gold and other Federationists; John Friesen, the newly elected chairman of the California Vendors Policy Committee; and concerned vendors approximately fifty in all. Some of these were concerned about Department practices, and some (about ten in number) were there to cause trouble and stir up ill-feeling any way they could. The one group that was conspicuous by its absence was the Department of Rehabilitation. Neither Hao Lam nor those whom he appointed to administer the Business Enterprise Program during the crisis were available to explain things to the vendors or reassure desperately worried people that the Department wanted to preserve their livelihoods perhaps no one in the Department was prepared to give such comfort. An attorney representing the Department of Rehabilitation did try to slip in unobserved, but he was forced to introduce himself and admit who he was and whom he represented. According to Federation participants, at one point during the meeting the Matsui staffer said to the Department's attorney that he was glad that the attorney had come because he had a message he wanted carried back to the Department. He said that he, as Congressman Matsui's representative, found it outrageous that members of the Department of Rehabilitation staff were not present, and he then announced that the Attorney General had indicated that he intended to appoint a conservator for the trust fund very soon. This article is being completed in late October. The California Attorney General has changed his mind about appointing a conservator, having decided (with who knows how much externally-applied encouragement) that, since the Department of Rehabilitation is undergoing an investigation, he will wait until it is completed before determining whether or not a conservator is necessary. There is no way of telling how long the investigation will take. The State Police recently told Sharon Gold that it would probably be eight months to two years, during which time the trust fund continues to be vulnerable. And in the meantime, the people of California will pay Roger Krum's salary and those of his cronies sharing his administrative leave. No one can know with certainty whether the trust fund is safe, and no one is looking into the question of whether funds have disappeared from it in recent months or years. But Roger Krum is keeping busy despite his paid leave from state employment. Again this year he is the director of a local jazz festival, for which he receives a hefty salary of some $43,000, according to sources in the community. It is comforting to know that his cultural work this year runs no risk of interfering with his state job. In the past some people have expressed concern that a man who was holding down two full-time jobs might be tempted to short-change one employer or both, but the festival people, at least, seem satisfied with Roger Krum's performance. In many ways the saga of the California Business Enterprise Program is a disturbing story. It is far from over, and the vendors of California are very far from being able to count on their state agency to help them or protect their interests. The good news is that the National Federation of the Blind is still on the job, working with the State Police, attempting to persuade the Attorney General to protect the trust fund, and informing vendors about what is happening and what their rights are. In the midst of all this, the affiliate goes right on doing all the other things that Federationists should be doing week in and week out. In September the state organization contacted Governor Deukmejian to request his annual proclamation of October 15 as White Cane Safety Day. The Governor wrote the proclamation, but he also wrote a letter to the NFB of California. It is clear that the work of the organized blind movement is not going unnoticed, and it is good to know also that at some levels of state government our efforts are receiving the recognition they deserve. Here is what the Governor of California spontaneously and without solicitation wrote: ____________________ October 4, 1989 TO: National Federation of the Blind of California On behalf of the citizens of California, I would like to commend your dedicated efforts to provide services and programs to meet the special needs of visually impaired citizens throughout our state. Visually impaired citizens rely on organizations such as the National Federation of the Blind of California to provide counseling and support, job training, and employment opportunities so that they may realize a greater sense of independence and self-sufficiency. As October 15, 1989, is White Cane Safety Day in California, I would like to join in this celebration by honoring your many contributions to the health and productivity of blind and visually impaired citizens throughout our state. Your efforts are most commendable and have earned the respect and appreciation of all Californians. Please accept my best wishes for every future success. Most cordially, George Deukmejian Governor of California BLIND FAITH by Mike Pearson From the Associate Editor: On July 2, 1989, just as delegates to the convention of the National Federation of the Blind were beginning to gather in Denver, the Rocky Mountain News Sunday Magazine printed a feature article about the technical rock-climbing course offered to the students at the Colorado Center for the Blind. The pictures were breath-taking, and the story (reprinted here by permission) was positive and well done. For those of us who had signed up to go rock-climbing with a group the next day or one a week later, it was also sobering. I, for example, began to doubt whether I had the necessary strength to haul myself up rock faces as sheer as the ones described by the writer. Judy Nichols, the secretary of the Public Relations Committee, realized for the first time that her fear of heights might be a problem since she was not going to be scrambling over rocks as she had assumed. Reports circulated through the convention that the group who went climbing on July 3 had had a wonderful time. Those of us who gathered out front of the Radisson Hotel early on the morning of July 10 were excited and a little nervous. We were all bone-weary after the stimulation of the convention. Several admitted to feeling some anticipatory fear, but I did not worry at all about danger. Our instructors were climbers who had tackled cliffs all over the world, and they said that we could trust the ropes, so I was prepared to believe them. Everyone talks about the beauty of the Rockies, but somehow I was unprepared for it when we arrived at the International Alpine School. We were fitted with climbing boots, harnesses, and hard hats. Stowing this equipment, our water bottles, and lunches in our backpacks, we began hiking. The air was incredibly clear, and though it was hot, the shade was cool and the breeze invigorating. There were thousands of birds who had had the good sense to take up residence in this ruggedly beautiful country, and not many insects. Much of the way we were accompanied by a noisy little stream rushing over rocks and generally adding a great deal to our appreciation of the place. The guides had been busy before our arrival placing ropes at several points on rock faces for us to climb. As far as I could gather, this entailed someone's climbing without the protection of a rope to the top of the rock to fix an anchor into the ground, through which the rope was then passed. When one of us decided to try a particular climb, an experienced climber would sit down at the bottom and control one end of the rope. The other end was passed through the special loops on the novice climber's harness and tied securely and quite mysteriously. We were shown how to tie these knots, but I, for one, was happy to let the experts do the job for me. Then, with the rope securely connecting climber to stationary belayer by way of the anchor at the top of the rock, one began to climb. The early rock faces had obvious hand and foot holds as well as some slant. These were steeper scrambles than I had ever tried before, but with a rope and climbing boots, they were physically taxing but not hard. Then came an all but vertical rock face with a few a very few cracks in it. The people from the climbing school protested that these were not very challenging, but they seemed pretty formidable to us. The October, 1989, issue of the Braille Monitor includes a picture of me walking backwards down this climb a process which requires the climber to lean backwards until he or she is perpendicular to the rock face. The rope holds the climber in this position, enabling him or her to walk backwards down the distance that has so laboriously been crawled up. My grin in that picture is a measure of the exhilaration one feels after having pitted oneself against the rock and won. Those of us who wanted to try something even more difficult were then directed to a small cliff I use the word advisedly. As President Maurer commented incredulously, it was absolutely vertical, and there was almost nothing to stand on. He was the first one to pit himself against that rock, and he made it further than any of the rest of us who were new at the game. When it was my turn, I began to understand what he had been talking about. I did not get more than ten or twelve feet off the ground, though at the time that seemed quite an accomplishment. My undoing came while I was sprawled across the rock. My left foot was more or less anchored in a shallow hollow in the rock, and my hands were spread wide far above my head, clinging to outcrops that were no wider than a quarter of an inch. The guide who was holding my rope said in a calm (not to say placid) voice, Now find a place to put your right foot, (which was, as I remember it, flailing around in a frantic effort to do just that). She told me to look higher, that there was a nice hold about two feet above my out-thrust foot. Eventually, I found what she was talking about. It is no exaggeration to say that the crack in question was at the level of my right shoulder. When I got my foot up there, it felt like it was above my head. Then the guide said, Now, just transfer your weight to your right foot. She was so calm about it, as if such a thing could be done. I suggested that she had better begin singing Climb Every Mountain, and several folks obligingly began doing so. This was the point at which the absurdity of the situation made me begin to laugh, and I peeled off the rock and hung there, helpless with laughter. My guide told me to rest before trying again. I did so, but by this time my limbs were shaking with fatigue, and eventually I asked her to lower me to the ground. If I had been a member of a real class, however, I would not have been able to get off so easily. For the only time that day I was glad that I was not engaged in a real rock- climbing course. This entire experience is a small jewel in my personal collection of memories. Beauty; the camaraderie of adventure shared with good friends; the encouragement and help of warm, calm, and unsentimental experts; and the exhilaration of testing myself against a formidable challenge: these things set that day apart in my memory. I can readily understand how valuable a whole course of rock-climbing would be as a part of a rehabilitation program. One emerges from such an experience more confident and self-assured. This is the very essence of rehabilitation. One word must be said about the International Alpine School and its staff. Joanne Yankovich, the Director of the Blind Program, and Alison Sheets, who works with her, are dedicated to providing climbing experience to blind people. They and their other instructors are wonderful people to work with. They begin with the premise that all climbers can benefit from experience on the rocks. They are unflappable and very encouraging without being at all supercilious, but above all, they are inspiring climbers, who believe that there is no reason why blind people can't learn to climb well too. Climbing programs can be established for any organizations that are interested. For more information about the International Alpine School contact: Alison Sheets, International Alpine School, Boulder Mountain Guides, Inc., Box 3037, Eldorado Springs, CO 80025, (303) 494-4904. Here is the story that was printed in the Sunday Magazine of the Rocky Mountain News on July 2, 1989: F aith and fear are fraternal twins born a heartbeat apart. On a cold May morning at the tail end of sunrise, the twins lie in wait in a canyon in Eldorado Springs. They watch silently as a group of seven students disembark a bus and prepare for their first climb up a jagged rock wall. Muscular, cheerful instructors from the International Alpine School scurry around untangling ropes, threading harnesses, handing out soft-soled shoes. The students are a bit more tentative in their enthusiasm. The scent of a challenge hangs heavy in the air, and casual conversation masks their apprehension. The idea of scrambling up the face of a 200-foot-high rock would take most mortals aback. Falling is not a pleasant concept. But these mortals, armed with backpacks and water bottles and guts, are more extraordinary than most. They're from the Colorado Center for the Blind in Denver, and on this morning they will defy the conventional wisdom of the sighted and stalk the mountain sky. As instructors make last-minute adjustments to equipment and brief their charges on the quarter-mile hike up the canyon, Diane McGeorge stands off to one side smiling as though she has just won an Academy Award. As director of the Center for the Blind, McGeorge has accompanied two previous groups of students through the six-week program. She is a veteran mountain tamer, no less fierce for her lack of sight, with unshakable praise for the program. This has really been great for our students, she says, a hint of anticipation in her voice. One of the neatest things it's done for blind students is challenge their self-discipline. It's also been a great way of teaching team travel and building confidence in skills they don't get an opportunity to use in the city. Sure, the students are worried. All of us come here with a lot of fear and a lot of misgivings. But perhaps the most important part of the program is that it teaches us that we can reach way down inside and do a lot of the things we didn't think we could do. We can overcome our fears physical, mental, and emotional. The best way to undermine a stereotype is to confront it head-on, she says pointedly. Don't argue the absurdity of the notion that blind people should be shuttled off to schools and quietly cared for. Prove it wrong. I really believe this program dispels stereotypes, she says. People say, `How can you do that when you're blind?' They don't expect blind people to be out tramping around in the wilderness using their white canes. They think of us on a hike as having to hang onto a sighted guide or use a bell. Well, we are using our canes to see what's in front of us to give us that freedom. One of the most common things I hear people say is, `It's probably easier for you because you don't have to worry about the fear of looking down.' I tell them everybody has fears, and it doesn't have anything to do with being blind. If you're climbing and you realize, `My God, I'm 100 feet in the air,' or you hear the river rushing way down below, you really learn the meaning of trust. This is an extremely safe sport, or we wouldn't be doing it. But fear is inside you all the time. If you're afraid, you're afraid whether you're sighted or not. And you have to conquer that fear every day. The sun has finally burned off the morning mist as the caravan starts down the trail into the canyon. The students can't see the sheer beauty of their surroundings, the angry curve of the rock, the sliver of sky that forms a canopy as they hike farther along the trail. But they can hear and smell and touch the world around them. The chatter of birds, the thrashing of a swollen stream are as vivid as any colors known to man. As the wind brushes by with a soothing sigh, they know the adventure has just begun. In the summer of 1983 Paul DiBello was working with handicapped youths in North Conway, New Hampshire, when he thought of teaching them rock climbing. People immediately thought it was a great idea; it was just a little surprising because you don't normally expect blind people to participate in a program like that, he recalled. But I got together with some other climbers, and we took seven kids out to White Horse Ledge with the idea of having them do rappelling: nothing very strenuous or dangerous. It was a two-day program where we taught the history of rock climbing and some of the basic mechanics. At the end of the first day, the other climbers and I realized that the kids were adapting to being on the rocks faster than anyone had expected. We thought they could probably handle climbing up, rather than just rappelling down. So the next day we scrapped our original plan and took them to the first pitch of a standard ridge, and they completed it. The instructors and kids were equally elated. That was the first and only time the program was run in New Hampshire. Yes, it was a success. But it was temporary an exciting, one-time occurrence. Nobody imagined or even suggested that it could be done on a regular basis and provide more than esthetic thrills. No one saw it as a tool for teaching mobility. Still, DiBello knew there was more potential to the program than the first group of students had realized. They had spent only two days on the rocks. What if a group of blind students were to spend a week, even eight days, climbing? By 1984, after DiBello moved to Winter Park and became director of the Handicapped Competition Program, the concept of blind rock climbers became an obsessive pursuit mild but persistent. He joined forces with Paul Sibley and Sandy East, who owned the International Alpine School in Eldorado Springs, and they made a video guide for those interested in leading blind rock climbers. A year later DiBello met Homer Page, a blind Boulder County commissioner who was toying with the idea of opening a school for the blind in Denver, a school of limited enrollment with a curriculum that stressed self-reliance. The meeting occurred in Jackson Hole, Wyoming, where Page had gone to cover the ski competition for The Handicapped Coloradan , a newsletter he runs when he's not teaching experiential education at the University of Colorado. When Paul told me that he'd been trying to get a rock-climbing program started for the blind, I said: `That sounds really interesting, but I'm not interested,' Page recalled. Why should I want to go out and kill myself when I've got a lot of life left to live? Paul said, `I think blind people can do this, but all these professionals tell me that they can't.' Immediately that changed my position. While I hadn't thought much about climbing, the idea that blind people can't climb was insulting. So I said, `Let's do it.' I got two of my students, and the three of us climbed with Paul. Convinced of the sport's benefits, Page made the rock-climbing class mandatory when he launched the Colorado Center for the Blind in January, 1988. Students would learn to read Braille. They'd learn how to travel independently, cook for themselves, and live on their own. And they'd learn to climb rocks. The most recent class was the third to complete the course (it's offered in the spring and fall). About 20 students have participated in the program, the only one of its kind in the country, and so far no one has been seriously hurt. Most blind children growing up today don't receive the kind of education, positive attitudes, and skills needed to become solid adults, Page said. In most cases, families love the children, but they don't really know how to relate to a blind child. They tend to protect them, and they don't understand that a blind person can be a competitive part of society. They try to make life easier rather than making it realistic. Students at the Colorado Center for the Blind will spend six to 12 months learning to cope with life in an urban environment. By the time they graduate (each course is individualized), they are prepared to go to college or enter the job market. Page believes rock climbing forces blind students to confront their fears. Some of them never do like it, whereas others want to continue climbing for years, he said. You can tell people that blind people aren't limited by lack of sight, and it goes in one ear and out the other. It's just not the same as going out and tackling a tough physical challenge. We want them to come away with a feeling that they can do many things they never imagined. They don't have to quit. They don't have to be afraid of life. I t's high noon on a sweltering June day in Gregory Canyon on the outskirts of Boulder. The sun bleeds sweat from the pale pink rock, banishing shadows to the safety of an occasional crack. This is the fabled amphitheater, where the last class of each session takes place. And today is graduation day. The group's composition has changed somewhat. A few of those who started six weeks earlier are gone. In their place are some new faces. Eager. Anxious. Unbowed. The objective is for students to top-rope it up this unforgiving rock and rappel back down. By this final day, the instructor's primary role is to offer encouragement from below. It will be a test of blind faith. Courage and commitment. Yet, unlike the first day of class, when anxiety was the prevalent emotion, today the talk is boisterous, the laughter common, and the energy level high. For 40-year-old James Wolcott, the six-week span has brought a big change. This is the first time I've ever taken a class like this, and I think it's great, he said, lightly stepping over a carpet of broken rocks. It's definitely been a challenge. The hardest part has been forcing myself beyond what I thought I could do. Society probably doesn't understand what we're doing here. They probably don't think something like this is possible, but I know it's very possible. I'm scared every time I climb up there. But afterward I feel really great. For group leader Joanne Yankovich, who has been leading the class since its inception, such an endorsement makes the long hours and tiring regimen including a couple of 3-mile death marches to condition the students worthwhile. The funny thing is how much I learn about myself through this class, she said, securing a top rope for the first of the students. The climbing issues are the same as any other class fear, athletic self-doubt, and learning to trust your equipment and your partner. But the fact that these are people who don't have sight brings up special issues, especially social stereotypes about what they can or can't do. Whenever I tell (sighted) people about this class, they're surprised. They've just never considered a blind person's being able to climb a rock, or even wanting to. Of course, the school's main objective is mobility. If they can get through this, it gives them a lot of confidence to try other things. This is probably the most complicated set of mobility problems you can give anybody, blind or sighted. I mean, in an urban environment everything is normally square or rectangular. When you're climbing a rock wall, a cane isn't of much use. Every challenge provides an opportunity for growth. It's about assuming responsibility for one's self in an age when people are more and more willing to abdicate that, she said. Yes, there is risk involved. But it's like anything else: if you want to test your limits it can be hard. But ultimately, it is also rewarding. For Tom Anderson, 36, who teaches typing and Braille at the Center for the Blind, there's nothing quite like the thrill of a climb. I think a person goes through different feelings when climbing, he said of his third time in the class. At first, it's kind of scary because a person may not be sure where the footholds and handholds are. But as one gains more confidence, the feeling changes from one of being really scared to one of exhilaration. It's reminiscent of when I was a kid and used to climb around on things. Some climbs are plain hard work, but once you make it, there is a real sense of accomplishment. There is also a valid practicality to the course, he added. If you can climb a rock, crossing Broadway and Evans in Denver isn't so scary, he said. Something like this gives you a sense of perspective. SCHOLARS ARE SOMETIMES STUMBLING BLOCKS by C. Edwin Vaughan, Ph.D. In his presidential address to the 49th Annual Convention of the National Federation of the Blind, July 1989, President Marc Maurer focused on the importance of language to the future of the blind. One of the major purposes of this largest consumer organization of blind persons is to change the meaning of blindness in this society. Images of blindness carried in our popular culture, earned from advertising, humor, newspaper accounts, etc., provide the symbols which prospective employers, new friends, or strangers use to guide their behavior toward and treatment of blind people. Maurer noted, If the language is positive, our prospects will be correspondingly bright. If the words used to describe the condition of the blind are dismal, we will find that our chances for equality are equally bleak. In addition to folk or popular images of blindness existing in a society are the images or symbols created by the intellectuals or experts who make careers out of studying the peculiar conditions of the blind. Symbols, created by experts, frequently guide or at least are a part of public policy decisions about programs for the blind. Scientific protocol, the creation of complex new constructs to further explain the problems of blind people, and the frequent use of mathematical manipulation of newly created data all lend heightened status to the images of blindness created by professionals. This article will examine one such academic effort to explain the concept of self-esteem as it applies to the development of the self-concept of blind people a book by Professor Dean Tuttle of the University of Northern Colorado entitled Self-Esteem and Adjusting with Blindness. This book attempts to interpret self-esteem and the development of the self of blind persons using a wide array of concepts from the history of developmental psychology ranging from William James to contemporary writers. Tuttle also analyzes problems encountered in adjusting to the trauma of blindness. Using trauma either as a medical or psychological concept, the book describes a severe condition requiring significant intervention and often having lasting or permanent consequences. At four different places in the book, Professor Tuttle briefly mentions that no special psychological principles are necessary to understand blind people. He notes that personality traits are as variable among the visually impaired as among the sighted (Page 38). After his brief statements about no new psychological principles being required he goes on to write a 300-page book describing the special and peculiar problems blind people encounter as they experience self-development. To support or illustrate his arguments he uses quotations from more than fifty biographical and autobiographical works of blind individuals. A social scientist and educator in the field of blindness and a blind person as well would presumably present a fair balance and evenhanded approach as he described the peculiar and special situations of blind people. I will analyze several aspects of this book to illustrate how supposedly scientific and scholarly work can contribute unnecessarily to negative images about blindness. I will also show how the narrow focus displayed by this book can create an artificial and restricted picture of the world in which blind people are socialized. He supports his argument by more than 250 quotations from the approximately 50 biographical and autobiographical books and articles cited in his text. These biographies and autobiographies usually describe the lives of fairly successful, and sometimes quite successful, blind people who have published their life stories for sale to the general public. Most of these life stories reflect successful adaptations to blindness. Whether one is illustrating the concept of self- esteem, relationships to significant others, or any other of the dozens of psychological concepts illustrated by Professor Tuttle, one could have selected, at least, one half of the illustrative citations which would have reflected positive or successful adaptations. When I first read Professor Tuttle's book, I was so struck by the pervasiveness of the negative language about blindness reflected in these biographical quotes that I re-read the text. Of his more than 250 quotations, less than 25 reflect positive images of blindness. Another 20 could be called neutral with respect to positive or negative images about blindness, while approximately 200 portray negative or dismal images about blind people. The following are three examples of quotations of the type I judge to be negative: I got along the pavement as best I could and that is another frightening experience difficult to describe to anyone who has not been blind, because though you are surrounded by noise, you have no coherent mental picture of what is around you.... I walked along in an enclosed gray little world a two-foot-square box of sounds around me. p. 22), No other day in my life stands out quite so clearly or so horribly as the day on which I got the verdict. His manner had kept full realization at bay until I was out in the street, then it struck with such force as to make it touch and go whether I did not go raving and screaming through the heart of Melbourne. (p. 161), and ... A numbing terror fastened itself upon me when I was thus brought to realize that I was doomed to live the rest of my life in complete darkness. There was an agonizing feeling of helplessness and dismay at the thought of going through day after day without eyesight... (p. 175). I am not arguing that any scholar should necessarily present a positive interpretation about blindness, although it would be refreshing. I do suggest that the overwhelming preponderance of negative imagery reflects an unrecognized bias on the part of Professor Tuttle. Despite his claim to a sociological perspective on self- development, Mr. Tuttle also completely ignores the organized blind as a source of influence on blind people being socialized in our society. In discussing significant others and reference groups, he advises that a blind person should be introduced to a teacher, school superintendent, counselor, friend, etc., and at one point he goes so far as to suggest meeting another blind person to learn some practical strategies. However there is a time when the credibility of a message is much stronger coming from another blind person. The professional may want to arrange for a competent blind person to meet with the individual who is mourning. Areas of concern to be discussed with the recently blinded might include some `tricks of the trade' or some quickly and easily learned adaptive techniques (pp. 179-8O). He does not suggest that it would be useful for a blind person to encounter groups of blind people who have positive images about blindness and who are committed to assisting themselves and others in the development of their human potentials. Richard Scott and Father Caroll made this same mistake that of ignoring the organized blind in their major works about blindness. However, I would have hoped that by 1984 a specialist in the field of blindness such as Mr. Tuttle would have been aware of the sociological importance for images about blindness and for the importance that the organized blind movement has been in the lives of a great many blind people. He seems almost to go out of his way to interpret the influence of high technology gadgetry as a potential influence on the lives of blind people, but he has not a single quote from Jacobus tenBroek and Kenneth Jernigan or countless hundreds of other people who have published successful stories of adaptation in the Braille Monitor or other periodicals about blindness. In fact, after he departs from the mainstream of literature about self-development, most of his scientific material about blindness comes from a very narrow range of publication outlets usually associated directly or indirectly with the American Foundation for the Blind. How are we to explain the negative imagery that characterizes this text and the lack of attention to a major positive influence in the lives of many blind people as well as the general public? This book is just one more example of the self serving nature of much that passes for scientific research about blindness it provides, to the true believer, much additional evidence about the special and peculiar problems that blind people encounter and which require the exclusive attention and assistance of especially trained professionals. Professionals are needed in the education of blind persons, just as they are for anyone else, but they, as a minimum requirement, must be knowledgeable about the organized blind. In his dozens of pages of advice to professionals he neglects to instruct them to learn about the positive philosophies, programs, and legislative successes of the several consumer organizations that should be a part of the professionals' understanding as he or she approaches rehabilitative relationships. Positive attitudes and images on the part of rehabilitation workers and educators can make a major contribution to the developing self-understanding of a blind person. It is an example of professional ideology in the sense described by Carl Mannheim in his book Ideology and Utopia. Thus, it is not men in general who think, or even isolated individuals who do the thinking, but men in certain groups who have developed a particular style of thought in an endless series of responses to certain typical situations characterizing their common position. He analyses the relationships between the intellectual point of view held and the social position occupied. Sociologically and historically he clarifies how the interests and purposes of certain social groups come to find expression in certain theories, doctrines, and intellectual movements. My interpretation of Mannheim's work would locate Professor Tuttle's effort as one more example of the creation of images about blindness that serve the self-interests of a social network of professionals and academicians who are making careers out of the study of and care of blind people. It is also an example of the narrowness and departmentalization of the social sciences that leads scholars to focus narrowly on some aspects of self- development while being oblivious to major social movements that are changing the conditions in which blind people live. It is a shame that the vast resources represented by the agencies and professionals are so irrelevant, sometimes even harmful, to the education and rehabilitation of many blind people. These vast resources will be better used when agencies and their employees drop defensive posturing and educate themselves in the positive views and aspirations reflected in the organized efforts of blind people themselves. References: Mannheim, Karl. Ideology and Utopia. Harcourt Brace, 1936. Tuttle, Dean W. Self-Esteem and Adjusting with Blindness . Charles C. Thomas, Publisher. 1984. STATE DEPARTMENT THINKS TWICE ABOUT THE WISDOM OF BREAKING FEDERAL LAW At its annual banquet on July 8, 1989, the National Federation of the Blind presented its Newel Perry Award to Congressman Gerry Sikorski of Minnesota for his outstanding service to the blind of the nation in championing our struggle to establish the right of blind citizens to serve in the United States Foreign Service. During his address to the convention (see the December, 1989, issue of the Braille Monitor ) Mr. Sikorski pledged that he would continue this fight for justice until the State Department changed its policy. Sikorski has been as good as his word. In mid-October he and Congressman Merwin Dymally arranged a joint hearing before their respective committees: the Sub-Committee on Civil Service of the Post Office and Civil Service Committee and the Sub-Committee on International Operations of the Foreign Relations Committee. On October 12 the Undersecretary for Management of the Department of State, Ivan Selin, was called to testify before the two committees at their hearing. There he announced that the Department had reversed its earlier decision to prohibit blind applicants from taking its written and oral examinations using Braille or human readers and notetakers. He went on to say that the Department of State had also abandoned its opposition to the concept of employing blind foreign service officers and would soon make a job offer to a qualified blind candidate. It was soon clear that the qualified candidate was Rami Rabby, whose case triggered the most recent round of controversy between the Federation and the State Department over its policy of discrimination against the blind. Within the week Mr. Rabby was contacted and offered a contract for his consideration. Already a diplomatist with all of the requisite negotiating skill, Rabby countered with alternative language that more clearly delineated his specific requirements for reader and computer support. Before these negotiations could be completed, however, Rabby was required to leave the country for a number of weeks on business. But assuming that all goes well and one can never be certain that it will he will return to begin two months of intensive training and ongoing talks about an appropriate assignment in the Foreign Service. In an interview with Congressman Sikorski the Associate Editor of the Braille Monitor asked him why he thought that the Department of State had changed its policy concerning the blind. He replied that he believed that Department of State officials were eventually convinced that they were going to have to deal with an irate Polish Congressman from Minnesota, and that I was in it for the long haul. He also pointed out that the Department was in an embarrassing position. The National Federation of the Blind had made it look bad, and public officials do not like to be on the short end of the public relations stick. When asked whether he thought that the State Department was serious about its decision to hire blind foreign service officers, Mr. Sikorski said, I don't care whether they think they're serious or not; they're going to be serious. The door is now open, and it's not going to close, ever. So there it is. Whether or not the Department of State yet recognizes the fact, the day is past when it can pretend that the laws prohibiting discrimination against the disabled by the federal government do not apply to it. Here is the press release circulated by the National Federation of the Blind on the day following Undersecretary Selin's history-making announcement: Foreign Service Open to Blind: State Department Says Baltimore, October 13/PRNewswire/ In a dramatic (180 degree) turnaround Undersecretary of State Ivan Selin has announced that his agency will begin to offer positions in the Foreign Service to qualified blind persons. Selin's announcement came Thursday during a hearing on Capitol Hill. Congressman Gerry Sikorski, who chairs a House civil service panel, has been pressing the State Department to employ qualified blind people in overseas posts. Selin told Sikorski, Thursday, We have considered your objections to our former policy and decided that we agree with you. You are right. One year ago, the State Department decided that its Foreign Service qualifying examinations could not be taken by blind persons who were unable to read the printed tests by themselves. At that time, and for several years before, State Department officials had come under fire from the National Federation of the Blind for pursuing discriminatory hiring practices, Federation leaders said. Marc Maurer, President of the 50,000-member Blind Federation, hailed Thursday's announcement as a Victory for equal rights and human rights. Blindness should not be a barrier to service in foreign lands, Maurer said. The Federation President cited the case of Mr. Avraham Rabby, a blind applicant already found qualified for the Foreign Service. Rabby's case caught national attention last year when State Department officials refused to allow him to have a sighted person present to read printed documents during a test. Rabby had previously passed identical tests and had been designated as qualified for the Foreign Service. Under pressure from Congress at the time, State Department officials admitted that Rabby's blindness was considered to be a barrier to any overseas assignment. Maurer said of Thursday's change in policy: The State Department would now show its good faith and a true change of its policy if Mr. Rabby is offered a job to serve our country abroad. That's what the press release said, and the story was picked up all over the country. The Cable News Network conducted a lengthy interview with Rami Rabby about the change of events, and their coverage of the story included a good bit of footage showing Rabby walking around Washington, D.C., and discussing the competence of blind people. And still people ask why the National Federation of the Blind? What does it do for blind people? The answer is clear and unequivocal. Without the National Federation of the Blind the Department of State would still be discriminating against blind applicants and calling it common sense. Tomorrow's corps of Foreign Service officers will be stronger and more effective because of the work of the Federation. The United States of America has established for itself a little more integrity now that its international pleas for human rights are no longer being made by those whose agency refuses to admit or respect the qualifications of its country's blind citizens. Make no mistake about it: the National Federation of the Blind is responsible for what has happened. And we will continue to fight for the right of every blind person to demonstrate his or her individual capacity to contribute to the well-being of this nation. This victory is one more reason for the National Federation of the Blind. THE BLIND SCIENTIST AT LOS ALAMOS by John Rowley, Ph.D. From the Associate Editor: We in the National Federation of the Blind remind ourselves often that we are changing what it means to be blind in America, and it is most certainly true. But some things seem to take more time to alter than others. We successfully work for the passage of a law, and the conditions affected by that law change relatively swiftly. We persuade one educator teaching blind children of the importance of early Braille and cane instruction, and those youngsters are immediately better off. We establish one training center that bases its instruction on a sound philosophy of blindness, and suddenly the blind of the entire area receive a new lease on life. But some things take a very long time indeed to change. When attitudes are involved, when an individual or a family must struggle to find the private courage to take a difficult course of action, then we are reminded just how slowly progress is made. Nearly fifty years ago Dr. Jernigan was told by his rehabilitation counselor that his ambition to be an attorney was not feasible. Twenty-five years ago I was told that Advanced Placement high school English would be too difficult for me. Fifteen years ago a Federationist in Ohio, who did not then know about the NFB, was denied enrollment in an advanced college chemistry course which she needed for a pre-med major. And it still happens every day all across this country. Experts, friends, family, and blind people themselves conduct well-intentioned campaigns to protect blind youngsters from the strain and stretch of serious challenge. Social work, teaching blind children, rehabilitation: these are today's safe occupations the ones that make sense for blind people. In fact some people are gifted in these areas, and some such individuals happen to be blind. But it is no accident that most of the blind engineering and science majors who have applied for Federation scholarships in recent years have had a good bit of residual sight. It is desperately important that we not close off the options for blind children before they have a chance to determine for themselves whether or not they have what it takes in the vocational fields they find attractive, whatever they are. Dr. John Rowley, who addressed the 1989 convention of the National Federation of the Blind on Saturday afternoon, July 8, made this point very clearly when he said that anyone interested in science had better want to do science and be prepared to work hard at it, but that he saw no reason why blind students should not pursue such careers if they had the dedication to do so. He knows what he is talking about. A scientist and engineer for many years before the onset of blindness, John Rowley returned to the Los Alamos Laboratory after completing several months of hard work at the Louisiana Center for the Blind in October of 1988. He was given his choice of several projects and chose one that required his special combination of scientific and engineering skills. He was charged with moving to Las Vegas, Nevada, for about two years to establish and strengthen the management office for the High Level Waste Project conducted by the University of California Los Alamos National Laboratory on the west side of the Nevada test site. The Department of Energy's project here is supported by the University of California, and Dr. Rowley's task is to hire staff, establish the office, compile large technical documents, and generally bring to bear his expertise to get the project started efficiently. When he finishes this project late in 1990, he will be assigned another trouble- shooting job. Here is what he had to say about his work as a blind scientist: W hat I want to talk about I have titled Reflections at the Interfaces. There are really two interfaces I want to talk about. One is the type of science I practiced for a third of a century (well, actually, forty years is probably closer), and the second one, of course, is the interface between sight and blindness. I'll try to touch on two other questions in the meantime. Should young blind people consider a career in science, and is blindness an important issue in studying for being a scientist? I will assert the answer to those two now, and then I'll try to convince you, through my example, that indeed I would encourage young blind people to go into science, but only under certain conditions. You must really want to practice science. You must prepare yourself thoroughly, and you must be prepared to work very hard. I don't believe and I think I can speak from experience that blindness is a very important issue at all in practicing science. Here I must be very careful because I've only been practicing science for about a year as a blind person. Actually I think it's added a little bit of spice to the game. Some people might say challenge, but science is enough challenge already, so I think really spice might be a better term. The first interface I want to talk about had to do with the type of science I practiced. Probably it's true that scientists and engineers (and I'm both) do as many different things as there are individuals. By the way, there aren't many of us scientists. I think there are only a half a million or so (maybe a little more) in the country. It's a pretty specialized trade. One of the things that I tried to do when I was young was to learn everything there was about science. My parents just thought I couldn't make up my mind, which actually was the truth. You know, many young people can't decide exactly what it is they want to do. But I hid that very nicely by studying chemistry and mathematics and chemical engineering and physics and I've forgotten what all else. As a graduate student I worked on many applied projects. I found applications of science that is, engineering quite fascinating. So I really trained myself in a lot of areas during that process of not being able to make up my mind. When the time came to look for a job, I found it very difficult because it turns out the job market in physics, chemistry, and many other fields of engineering is really very narrow, and that wasn't my game. So I looked around the country (this was in about 1955), and I found a place which takes concepts, ideas, findings, discoveries that is, the research aspects of science and converts them into hardware prototypes, working models. That happened to be the Los Alamos National Laboratory. I've practiced that interface between the two areas that is, research discovery (findings if you will) and the application of these for a third of a century. Now I'd like to talk about the other interface, which is a more recent one the interface between blindness and sight. I perhaps was quite fortunate. When I was a teen-ager before the second world war, I had an ophthalmologist who very carefully explained to me the risk factors to my vision. I was very, very near sighted, and I used an alternative technique all those years. I used glasses refraction, you know. And I actually had no problem. My retinas did not detach, which was one of the risks. And I did not avoid all the things he said not to do. I enjoyed football, parachuting, and a number of other activities. But he also mentioned that maybe, later on in life, the retinal material would deteriorate, although he suggested (and the literature I read at that time suggested) that I might outlive all that or die before it happened. And so I really didn't ignore it; I think I was forewarned and prepared. However, in 1982 I noticed my right eye was clearly starting down hill, and I lost my peripheral vision. By 1984 I believe I was essentially blind. The testing was a little nominal, but I gave up driving at that time. And soon thereafter, I had to start making a decision. At first I thought it was simple. In my laboratory, as far as I'm able to determine, everyone who was blinded or had gone blind before had retired. It turns out that our laboratory has a very generous medical retirement program and, quite frankly, has a very, very tough safety program. Ours is a very hazardous workplace. By the way, we're also extremely safe people. The two go hand in hand, I might add. So everyone else prior to my case (I use the word lightly, although my view of it was a little tougher than that) had retired. So I thought I would retire. Maybe that was the alternative to take. But you know, I really liked work. In fact, I wasn't really bothered by the second interface although I was having a little trouble getting to work, and my productivity was dropping. I found myself doing different kinds of work still interesting, still productive in some ways, but certainly not with the amount of reading and writing that I was used to. So what did we do? Well, my wife Mary and I went to a nice retirement seminar two days delightfully done by our laboratory. At the end of those two days, I was totally convinced I didn't want to retire. Now, how does one manage? What is the tactic? Well I started getting books out of the library on blindness. I opened a notebook on retirement on the one hand; I opened another notebook on blindness on the other hand. And I found you can learn Braille. So I signed up for a correspondence course. I got hold of the New Mexico Commission for the Blind. An itinerant teacher came up and said, Why you know, there's orientation and mobility. (You see, I got the buzz words right away, too, and I got a white cane.) By the way, I got some literature about the National Federation of the Blind at the same time, I might add. I went down to the drugstore and got a pair of sleepshades because, even now, I have a little bit of vision in my left eye, and I started practicing. After a few months of that, I figured that it might take five years if I worked rather diligently at it, and I was starting to work quite diligently. So clearly that wasn't a very good way to get from where I was across this interface. I wanted to be a working scientist, but how to do it? Well, pretty soon my supervisor got worried, and with good reason. I was bumping into things, particularly in unfamiliar areas. I was having trouble in low-light conditions. My productivity in reading and writing (even though I tried to divert some of my activities away from that) was getting lower. Fortunately, he brought up the issue of safety. I was clearly a safety hazard to my laboratory. What was to be done? I must say I was a little bit upset about that, but on the other hand, I realized they really were talking about liability (although, of course, that issue never really came up). However, I thought, there must be a way around this. Then it dawned on me that our laboratory has a policy that will pay for safety training. I don't believe they're allowed to pay for rehabilitation training access, accommodation, all kinds of things, but not rehabilitation. So I explored the possibility of getting orientation and mobility training at the laboratory. I thought, well I'll take a month or two off, I'll get somebody good in here. They'll take me all over the lab and my home area all that. And I'll be safe. I started calling around the country, and I was very, very fortunate in contacting, among other people, Mary Ellen Reihing (at that time) on the staff at NFB Headquarters. And she said, It's an interesting idea. I'll try to find you an O&M instructor. How lucky I was that she didn't find one! She also said in her own very persuasive (well, not too subtle but very persuasive) way, Really you need six to nine months or perhaps a year of good rehabilitation training if you're going to do what you want to do. I was convinced. I admit that I think I was very receptive. I have never in my life believed that blind people couldn't do what they wanted to do. I find out now there are many people who do. I was fortunate, so what to do next? I made many phone calls, talked to many institutions, and finally I heard about the Louisiana Center for the Blind. To make a long story short, I called Joanne Fernandes. In November of 1987 we visited the Center around Thanksgiving time, and I'm very thankful I might add. We found it precisely as described. One of the criteria that I established at that time was that I wanted instructors who were blind. I was anxious for that. I've trained myself in many, many areas before. I've also trained many other people. And I'm firmly convinced that's the absolute best way to go. I found the Center to be exactly as represented. I felt it would totally satisfy my needs. It did, absolutely. I spent from January to July last year, 1988, at the Center; and I believe I graduated with some honors. I really enjoyed that experience. I've heard it called a boot camp. Now let me tell you that if you do go through a boot camp, you're going to know precisely what it is you want to do along with being able to do it. So, if you have any hesitation about one of the centers, please come and speak to one of the graduates. I assure you that this has changed my life because I think I probably would have had to retire had I not gone to that center. What happened when I returned to my laboratory? Well there is some indication you can be a nice senior science advisor you know, kind of a soft nice job demanding in a way, but not too taxing. After a few months, however, they offered me a position in Las Vegas to solve a very tough problem. I couldn't resist. I have solved lots of problems in the last third of a century from my laboratory. But what a delightful challenge this was, what a blessing. Here I had to do all those things that Joanne and her staff had taught me. I had to find an apartment. I had to cook for myself, and the cane travel! I must confess, I've tried to reach as far out into Las Vegas as I can. The strip is a thing you wouldn't believe. I must say, I could tell you a few stories well never mind. That's a fascinating thing to do. I've been able to extend every one of my skills and use it. The only one I'm deficient in still is Braille, and I'm going to get back at that. But I suspect it's going to take me perhaps another year to complete solving this problem. We've hired a number of people, got the office set up, and the projects moving. We're starting to produce deliverables. The science is coming together. The people are coming together. And soon, I think, we'll close this one. Could I have done that without the NFB? No way! There is no way. I've looked back and said, Oh, I could have learned all that. There is no way. And I certainly want to thank you all. I want to share in closing one small bit of philosophy that I think we share in common: scientists and the NFB. That is the old, time- honored phrase: You shall know the truth, and the truth will set you free. Thank you. TECHNOLOGY AND THE JOB by Curtis Chong As Monitor readers know, Curtis Chong is the President of the National Federation of the Blind in Computer Science (the NFB's computer science division) and an active member of the NFB Research and Development Committee. In recent months he has been asked to address groups of potential employers of the blind in conjunction with Job Opportunities for the Blind seminars sponsored by several state affiliates. The following article is drawn from these speeches. Mr. Chong's expertise and solid common sense make his remarks valuable to everyone who is interested in the subject of technology and the blind. Here is what he has been saying to employers about technology and the blind: T here is no question that with the advent of so-called high technology, more jobs have been opened up to blind people. What kind of jobs are we talking about? Consider these for starters: electrical engineer, computer programmer, systems analyst, software developer and marketer, airline reservationist, customer service representative, technical consultant the list could go on and on. Just as technology has created jobs for the sighted and eliminated others, so it is with the blind. It seems, however, that in the latter case technology has come to be regarded with an almost unhealthy fascination. Part of the reason for this lies in the lack of information about what technology can really do for a blind person. The other part is closely related to society's basic notions about blindness and what we believe blind people are capable of doing. Here are some of the more useful devices that technology has spawned: the talking clock; the talking calculator; the talking scale; the talking cash register; the Braille 'n Speak; the VersaBraille; the Braille Blazer; the Speaqualizer; the Kurzweil Personal Reader; the Optacon; the Romeo Brailler; the Thiel Braille embosser; the speech synthesizer; talking programs for the Apple computer; Grade 2 Braille translation systems; optical character recognition systems; and a tremendous variety of speech, Braille, and large print screen reading systems for the IBM Personal Computer (PC). In fact, when viewed in perspective, technology can also be said to have brought us the slate and stylus, the long white cane, the Braille writer, the Braille watch, the cassette recorder, and every other mechanical or electronic device that blind people have found useful. You may be surprised to know that two of the most valuable assets in my job as a systems programmer are my Perkins Braille Writer and my sighted reader, and they have nothing to do with technology. Yes, I have access to a variety of talking computers and a Braille embosser. I can even connect to my employer's mainframe from anywhere in the country to access my electronic mail and diagnose some network problems. However, my Braille writer enables me to take notes without electricity, and my sighted reader allows me to visit any office in the company to assist users who are having trouble with one or more of their terminals or PC's. Let's examine some of the technology that has resulted from the so-called computer age. The Braille 'n Speak, a portable talking note taker, has captured the imagination of a lot of blind people. It is the one piece of technology that appeals even to the person who classifies him or herself as a computer illiterate. For about a thousand dollars a blind person can purchase his or her very own Braille 'n Speak, including clock, stopwatch, and four-function calculator. What can a user do with it? It's easy to take notes; store names and addresses; perform some basic text editing functions; transmit data to and receive it from a computer; and carry around the equivalent of 180 Braille pages of information in a single portable unit. The Braille 'n Speak can be attached to a Braille embosser; and if the notes have been entered in Grade 2 Braille, they can be embossed that way. The Braille 'n Speak can even be hooked up to a standard printer in order to print the material entered. What are some of this device's limitations? For those of us who have used commercial, off-the-shelf word processors such as WordPerfect or WordStar, the Braille 'n Speak simply cannot compete nor is it meant to. The Braille 'n Speak cannot run commercial programs written for other computers. Proficient Braille readers might well have difficulty studying for final exams with their notes stored only in the Braille 'n Speak. Without a Braille printer, the only way of reviewing what has been entered is to use the built-in synthetic speech. The Braille 'n Speak has a limited amount of storage: about 180 Braille pages. A typical college student will fill that up in less than a week. How does the Braille 'n Speak compare to the good old slate and stylus? To put some perspective on the matter, let me say that I still carry around a slate and stylus everywhere I go. Although I find that the Braille 'n Speak is much more convenient for taking notes in bulk, I also find that I cannot do without the slate and stylus for communicating information to other blind people and for providing a backup system for note-taking when the Braille 'n Speak fails, as any piece of technology will. I firmly believe that, before anyone acquires a Braille 'n Speak, he or she should be a competent slate and stylus user not to mention being proficient in the reading and writing of Braille. The Apple computer is an interesting and useful piece of technology for those blind people who can't be bothered with screen layouts and disk operating systems but who still require the power of a full-fledged computer. A whole series of talking programs for the blind have been developed to run on the Apple II series of computers. These programs are significant in that one need not learn anything about a screen review system. They are designed to talk when they are supposed to. The user doesn't have to move a review cursor around the screen to hear what the computer has to say. If the goal is to acquire a working system that will bring the user into the computer age and if there is no need to run software that sighted people use, check out the Apple computer. Particularly, check out Raised Dot Computing, located in Madison, Wisconsin, and Computer Aids Corporation, located in Fort Wayne, Indiana, to see what kind of talking programs they market. Speaking of the microcomputer, I think we can safely say that no one type of computer has played as significant a role in our entrance into the computer age as has the IBM PC and related compatibles. A tremendous variety of speech, Braille, and large print mechanisms now exist which permit blind people to have independent access to most text-based programs that a PC can run programs such as word processors, spreadsheets, database systems, and terminal emulators. Consider these popular software packages: WordPerfect, WordStar, Lotus 1-2-3, DBASE III, PROCOMM, QMODEM, Attachmate Extra!, IBM 3270 Entry Level Program, and Novell. With the proper combination of hardware and software, every single one of these packages can be used by the blind without the assistance of a sighted reader, and this list is far from complete. Beyond the programs themselves, there are the systems and networks to which they provide access. Using PROCOMM, for example, a blind person can dial into a variety of mainframe systems and, using the proper terminal emulation facilities of PROCOMM, can work with just about any mainframe online application. Even more exciting to blind people is the very real ability to have that information converted into Braille, simply by attaching a Braille embosser to one of the computer's communication ports. Using the Novell network operating system, a blind person can share information over a local area network with colleagues in the office and can do so with the same programs that everybody else uses. With a 3270 emulation system a blind person can independently access text applications on just about any IBM mainframe. This hitherto impossible task has tremendous potential benefit for the blind when one considers the widespread use of IBM equipment in this country. What impact does this have on the world of work? Consider that, with the IBM PC and the proper screen reading mechanisms, chances are very high that the blind person will be able to use the same software as his or her sighted co-workers. The blind secretary is now in an excellent position to use the same word processor as others in the office. The blind programmer or engineer has access to most of the mainframe applications, even to the point of putting up with the annoying flood of notes, messages, and documents occasioned by electronic mail systems. Consider the blind executive whose sighted secretary regularly uses a word processor to type memos and reports. Technology now exists that enables the secretary to convert those memos and reports into Braille without having to know anything about the Braille code itself. Or consider the blind secretary who is required to proofread documents before printing them in final form. With a word processor, a Braille translation program, and a Braille embosser, this task is a snap. In my office everyone uses IBM's Display Write 4 word processors to produce memos and reports that are eventually printed on paper. I sometimes ask my coworkers to furnish me with a diskette containing their documents. I can then feed them into the PC on my desk. From there it is a simple matter to convert the document into Braille or to read it using synthetic speech. Let me hasten to point out, however, that in most cases I find that a sighted reader is far more efficient to handle the mountain of paperwork that comes across my desk. I find the technology useful when it is necessary for me to lift passages from someone else's work for inclusion in a report that I am preparing. The blind themselves, through the National Federation of the Blind, are taking a hand in helping to shape the technology that is being developed. When it became clear that the IBM PC would play a significant role in today's industry, the Federation embarked upon the development of a hardware-based screen-reading speech-output system for the IBM PC and compatibles. We searched long and hard to come up with a name for this system, and it was our own Rami Rabby who proposed the name Speaqualizer. The Speaqualizer can be obtained from the American Printing House for the Blind for about $800 and works with more programs than any software- based screen reading system for the PC. Recently the National Federation of the Blind, in cooperation with officials from the Discover Card Company, developed a talking card-verification system that can be used by blind retail clerks to check on credit cards. The actual development consisted of attaching a speech synthesizer to an already-existing credit card checking computer and slightly modifying the system software in order to send verbal prompts to the synthesizer. It is important to note that the Discover Card Company wisely chose to discuss the project with the people whom it was designed to benefit namely, the blind, themselves. Consequently, the system that has emerged is one that is truly useful to blind people across the country. Any time one considers applying technology to solve a problem involving a blind person, it is important to keep in mind that the technological solution may represent a long and painful road fraught with many obstacles and problems. Not all screen reading systems for the IBM PC are equally flexible, and not all screen reading systems for the IBM PC work with all programs that need to be used in the office. In other words, one must consider the issue of compatibility. For example, I know from personal experience that if a blind person needs to use a 3270 emulation system, a great deal of care needs to be exercised in the selection of a screen reading system for the PC. I also happen to know that people wishing to use Microsoft Word as their word processor are likely to experience problems with its relationship to their screen-reading software. Consider, too, that only recently has the Apple Macintosh computer become accessible, even partially, to the blind. The problem is to find the right person who has all of the information about what works with what all in all, a rather difficult task. Some of you may have heard about optical character recognition systems and reading machines that supposedly convert printed information into speech or electronic digital media that can be processed by a computer. It is true that equipment (costing anywhere from five to ten thousand dollars) is available to convert print into a form that can be used by a blind person. However, this technology still has a number of significant limitations. For one thing, although it can read a lot of printed information, it can't handle handwriting or poor-quality print. For another, reading machines and optical character recognition systems lend themselves to sequential reading that is, reading a document from cover to cover. They are not at all useful to a blind person who has to read small amounts of information scattered across a large number of pages that are not arranged in sequence. In my job, I am often placed in a position where I have to glean information from three or four computer manuals at a time. I am often forced to scan each manual repeatedly, lifting a bit of information from, say, page 150, going back to page 50 to look at something else, and then turning to another book to page 45 to round out my research. This task would be extremely cumbersome and time-consuming with an optical character recognition system. We must be careful, I think, not to fall into the trap of trying to solve every problem with a piece of technology. Recently, in my home state of Minnesota, I heard a story about a blind person who, after four months, was in danger of losing his position as a programmer because some technology had failed to arrive. Simply put, the problem was that the blind programmer did not have independent access to the company's mainframe system. Further investigation revealed that no one not even the blind person had considered the possibility of hiring a sighted reader while waiting for the technology to arrive. In other words, the blind person did virtually nothing for four months. If the programmer, the employer, and the rehabilitation agency had not been lulled into a false sense of security because of the availability of technology, the short- term solution for the problem would have been apparent early on. Many employers do not really believe that the blind can be just as productive, mobile, and competent as their sighted peers. They are too quick to accept the notion that the technology is the determining factor when it comes to productivity. For example, it never occurs to many of them that in order for a writer to use a word processor effectively, that person must, first and foremost, be a decent writer. It never occurs to some of them that a fancy computer terminal does not a programmer make. And I would bet you that a lot of employers never even knew that thousands of blind people held professional, high-paying jobs long before the Braille or talking microcomputer was invented. Is technology the total answer when we are considering the employment of the blind? I don't believe so. Although technology can help a lot of blind people to better their lives and has done so and although technology has opened up some jobs for the blind, it can in no way be viewed as the total answer to the problem of the seventy-percent unemployment rate that now plagues blind Americans of working age. Employers still require information and education about the competence and innate normality of the blind. Rehabilitation officials need to stop regarding technology as a panacea for the blind and recognize it for the tool that it is. Sure, technology can be a tremendous help. But more important than any technology are acceptance; equal treatment; a positive attitude toward blindness and blind people; and a belief on everyone's part that we, the blind, are just as capable as the sighted of living normal productive lives and getting the job done. LITERACY: THE KEY TO OPPORTUNITY by Fred Schroeder On February 3, 1989, Fred Schroeder (member of the Board of Directors of the National Federation of the Blind, Director of the New Mexico Commission for the Blind, and authority on the education of blind children) addressed the Josephine Taylor Leadership Seminar, sponsored by the American Foundation for the Blind. The seminar was held in Atlanta, Georgia. Mr. Schroeder's remarks were insightful and very much to the point, so we have decided to print his entire text. Here it is: I n today's information age there can be no question that literacy represents the primary tool by which individuals compete. Literacy unlike other skills is not an end in itself, but rather the means to a virtually unlimited variety of ends. It is the very key to prosperity since literacy opens the way to information by tearing down barriers of myth and ignorance. Blind people have come to value Braille, recognizing its role as the primary means to literacy for the blind. Dr. Abraham Nemeth has described Braille as having liberated a whole class of people from a condition of illiteracy and dependency and given them the means for self-fulfillment and enrichment. Nevertheless, large numbers of blind people do not know Braille and, therefore, find themselves in a state of functional illiteracy. As a result, blind people have lacked many of the fundamental opportunities which enable them to become self-supporting, contributing members of society. It is estimated that seventy percent of working-age blind people are unemployed. Those who are employed are frequently under-employed or trapped in entry level jobs. While it would not be fair to say that the staggeringly high unemployment rate among the blind is due solely to lack of Braille literacy, Dr. Nemeth observes that, Braille makes it possible for a blind person to assume a role of equality in modern society, and it can unlock the potential within him to become a contributing member of his community on a par with his sighted fellows. Many professionals have sought to explain away the low level of Braille literacy through claims that Braille is too complicated and difficult to learn, too bulky and costly to produce, and made obsolete by tapes and speech technology. In addition, they argue that many of today's blind children are multi-handicapped and therefore cannot be expected to master Braille reading. Finally, modern pedagogy has asserted that many blind people, given appropriate low vision aids, can become competent print readers, thereby rendering Braille unnecessary. Yet, alternatives to Braille frequently come with problems of their own. Tapes, while helpful for reading large quantities of text, do nothing to enhance spelling or teach a child about punctuation or format. Similarly, while tapes may be relatively compact and inexpensive, it is difficult to skim a tape or turn readily to a specific section of the text. In terms of writing, unlike tapes, Braille allows the individual a portable means of making notes, keeping name and address files, making grocery lists, keeping recipes, and so on. This is not to say that tapes have no place. My point is simply that their role is not to replace Braille. Other alternatives, such as low vision aids, often reduce reading speed and comprehension by virtue of diminishing the amount of material that can be seen at one time. Still other low vision aids (the closed circuit television, for example) are certainly large and cumbersome. Nevertheless, as with the use of tapes, low vision aids have an important function, provided that their use is kept in perspective. Braille, tapes, low vision aids, and speech technology comprise a cadre of techniques which, when applied correctly, enables the blind person to function on terms of real equality. The small number of blind people using Braille is a problem receiving increasingly sharp attention from the National Federation of the Blind. We believe that, given proper training and opportunity, blind people can compete on terms of equality with the sighted. Central to this conviction is the understanding that true equality is a product of having the skills necessary to compete and the confidence to put those skills into practice. It is our conviction that, while blind people need training, training alone is not sufficient. For it to be effective, the blind person must believe that it is respectable to be blind and that he or she possesses the capacity to compete on an equal footing with his or her sighted peers. As with many other issues facing the blind in education and rehabilitation, blind people and professionals often have strikingly different views concerning the cause of this problem. The profession tends to view problems from the perspective of the technocrat. Declining Braille literacy indicates a flaw in the code, a problem of cost, or proof that Braille is antiquated. Similarly, the profession may acknowledge a lack of skilled personnel, summing up the Braille literacy problem as merely a training issue. Given this orientation, the solutions proposed by the profession are predictable provide more money for teacher preparation, simplify the Braille code, or replace Braille with low vision aids or speech technology. The blind, however, believe that the real cause of Braille illiteracy is rooted in societal beliefs and misconceptions about blindness. What professionals believe about blindness has direct bearing on both their methodology and their expectations. As a result, if a teacher does not believe that a blind child can truly compete on terms of equality, the teacher will settle for and even praise inferior performance. The teacher's conception of blindness becomes the yardstick by which performance is measured. Professional judgments become clouded and are ultimately shaped by age- old myths and misconceptions about the abilities of the blind. Dr. Kenneth Jernigan, Executive Director of the National Federation of the Blind, observed that Many of the very people who administer and work in the governmental and private agencies established to provide services to the blind have all of the misconceptions and false notions about blindness possessed by the public at large. If a teacher harbors negative attitudes about blindness, then he or she may wish to avoid dealing directly with blindness and, therefore, avoid the teaching of Braille. As a result, parents and educators find themselves increasingly at odds over the question of which children should be taught to read print and which should be taught to read Braille. A case in point concerns a young blind child who possesses a fair quantity of residual vision. When this child began kindergarten the school he was attending felt that his vision was not adequate for all of his reading needs and, therefore, began the process of teaching the child to read Braille. In the first grade his family moved to another state. Being convinced of the importance of Braille they sought Braille instruction from the new school district in which their child was enrolled. The new district agreed and continued Braille instruction throughout first, second, and third grade. Beginning in fourth grade the family again moved, enrolling their child in yet another school district. This one conducted its own educational assessment and determined that Braille instruction was not needed. If the story were to end here, it could be written off as nothing more than a lack of precision in generally accepted assessment criteria. However, the story does not end here. The district in question not only refused to teach Braille, but launched a vicious attack against the parents, accusing them of treating their child as if he were blind, thereby causing him significant emotional and educational damage. The district asserted that a child could not be taught to learn both print and Braille. To do so (they alleged) would result in the child's functioning poorly in both reading media. When the parents pointed out that their son would never be a fully competent print reader because of his impaired vision, the district argued that they were wrong, pointing to the fact that their son was reading print at grade level at least for short periods of time. This shows the first in a long series of ensuing contradictions. If the child was reading at grade level in the fourth grade and yet had received both print and Braille instruction from kindergarten through third grade, then what evidence is there to show that simultaneous instruction in print and Braille will reduce efficiency in both? The parents, concerned for their son's future, sought three independent evaluations by qualified professionals to determine whether their son should, in fact, receive instruction in Braille reading and writing. I conducted one of the evaluations in November of 1987. I hold a master's degree in the education of blind children from San Francisco State University and have worked as a teacher of blind children and as a special education administrator responsible for programs for blind children in the Albuquerque Public Schools. The other two evaluators were similarly qualified, experienced teachers of blind children. Although each of the evaluations was done independently, all three of us agreed that this child should be instructed in Braille. The basis of our findings was not a wild-eyed fanaticism that all children, regardless of degree of visual functioning, should be taught Braille. Instead, our conclusions were based on experience and direct observation of the child's visual functioning. For my own part I considered such factors as the child's suffering eye fatigue after a period of only 20 to 30 minutes of reading. In addition, the child had great difficulty copying material and was virtually unable to read back his own handwriting. He was unable to read small print such as a conventional dictionary and was not helped by low vision aids. Large print was not beneficial since this child's eye condition includes a field restriction. Large print simply reduced the number of words or letters he could see at a time, reducing his reading efficiency. Again, because of his particular eye condition, glare was a problem making him highly dependent on particular lighting conditions. In short, I concluded that this child needed Braille both as a reading and writing system. Armed with three independent evaluations and a renewed conviction that their child needed Braille, the parents again approached the district. Nevertheless, the district persisted in its refusal to teach Braille, resulting in the matter's being brought to a hearing. The hearing officer, appointed by the district, concluded that the district was correct in refusing to teach the child Braille. In spite of the fact that the child had received Braille instruction for four years and in spite of the fact that three qualified evaluators had independently arrived at a recommendation for Braille instruction, the hearing officer brushed the evidence aside and concluded that the district was correct in refusing Braille instruction. To add insult to injury, the hearing officer dismissed my evaluation by saying that since I knew the parents through my affiliation with the National Federation of the Blind, my report contained the smell of doubt, thereby discounting its validity. At this point, fourth grade had drawn to a close. The child had lost an entire year of critical instruction. Last August, in a final attempt to secure Braille instruction, the parents arranged for a hearing before a panel representing the State Board of Education. At that hearing the parents presented all of the relevant documentation, including the three independent evaluations which they had secured. The district, presumably operating on the smell of doubt principle, stated that the evaluations were not independent. In particular they discounted my evaluation as being suspect because of my affiliation with the National Federation of the Blind. The district's representative stated that the National Federation of the Blind believed that any visually impaired child regardless of circumstance should automatically receive Braille instruction. The district asserted that it had alternatively proposed its own impartial evaluation which the parents had refused. It came out that the district had given the parents a list of names prepared by the district and had offered to allow the parents to select any name they chose from the list. As could be anticipated, the parents questioned whether this process would truly yield an independent, impartial evaluation. It was finally agreed that the parents and the county would jointly select an individual to conduct the evaluation. The individual selected was perhaps the most renowned expert in Braille instruction in the United States. The parents hoped that by employing a professional of her caliber the question of Braille instruction could be settled once and for all. It looked promising since the district agreed during the hearing to accept the findings of this expert as representing a truly independent evaluation. In late September, 1988, the evaluation was conducted and shortly thereafter the report received. It contained a recommendation for a minimum of three-forty minute periods of Braille instruction each week. Was it finally over? No. In November, the district proposed an Individualized Education Program (IEP) that included a grudging provision for including Braille in the curriculum. Rather than recognizing the validity of Braille as a reading system and the need for Braille for this particular student, the district characterized Braille as a subordinate, substandard, laborious method only to be used as a last ditch alternative. One of the short term instructional objectives identified in the proposed IEP was that to alleviate fatigue, the child will use his existing Braille skills when occasionally appropriate. Regardless of the technical inadequacies of this instructional objective, the tone is very clear. The district, in a cloud of bitterness and professional arrogance, persists in its conviction that Braille is nothing more than a second-class reading medium, connoting inferiority. It is interesting to observe that, while the district accused the National Federation of the Blind of holding an arbitrary view that all visually impaired children be taught Braille, the district, on the other hand, seemed unshakably rooted to the equally arbitrary albeit opposite point of view that a low vision child, regardless of need, should be taught print to the exclusion of Braille. It is not difficult to understand what drives this kind of thinking. To the district and to many others in society, Braille equates to blindness while print equates to sight, and on an emotional level, be it conscious or unconscious, the attitude persists that to be sighted is the be normal while to be blind is to be dependent and inferior. This thinking, not learned research and educational theory, drives the decision-making process of selecting which children will be print readers and which will be Braille readers. Dr. Kenneth Jernigan tells the story of visiting a classroom of blind children and being told by the teacher: This little girl reads print. This little girl has to read Braille. The development of negative attitudes toward Braille can be traced back to the instruction provided in some of our nation's teacher preparation programs. Many teacher preparation programs regard the slate and stylus as a relic of bygone days, assuming that they are mentioned at all. Throughout the nation it is not unusual to see blind children using Braille writers for taking notes in class. As recently as a generation ago, teachers of the blind would have thought it ridiculous to use Braille writers in class. Braille writers are awkward and heavy to carry around, not to mention noisy and disruptive to others. The truth of my assertion can be seen in the marketing strategies being used by manufacturers of portable Braille note taking devices. They point out that these high tech, portable Braille writers are smaller and quieter than Braille w