A Mariner for Life

"If I can't see a body of water, I'm too far away." I come from a long line of maritime professionals; mainly Alaskan commercial fishers. Growing up, I was frequently around boats of varying sizes do to the fact that my parents own and operate a jet boat guide service on the Snake River that gives tours of Hells Canyon. If I was not around boats, I was playing in the creek that ran through my parent's property. As the oldest of three, and a Male, my parents expected that I would not go empty-handed, and would be treated like anybody else, regardless of my visual impairment. As a child of two maritime parents, I learned quite a lot about water, about vessels of all shapes and sizes, and a moderate amount of nautical terminology. For example, I learned the terms Left and Right, and then the nautical equivalents (Port and Starboard). Like many kids, I played with Legos, and put my nautical knowledge to work building vessels, and then testing their "seaworthiness," in the kitchen sink or the bathtub. My father was often present for these buoyancy tests, and was happy to provide me with suggestions for improvement. It was a great father-son bonding experience, but my father's suggestions also taught me several scientific principals, including buoyancy, density and water displacement. Knowing these concepts would help me to master my physical science classes in high school and college. I learned to run a jet boat by age eight. Often times on a calm stretch of the river, usually on a cargo run into Hells Canyon my father would let me drive; and what an experience. Running a jet boat, specifically a 40-foot aluminum landing-craft style boat on a free-flowing river is nothing like, say, a pontoon boat on a lake. My father and I had a system down: He would tap on my Left shoulder indicating a Left (Port) turn, and would tap on my right shoulder, indicating a Right (Starboard) turn. In addition, the terms "throttles ahead, or throttles astern meant speed up or slow down respectively. As I got older and more confident at the controls, my father would guide me through one or two class 2 (smaller sized rapids). Traversing the rough and rocky waters required cat like reflexes; if I hesitated, I could've run over large, sharp rocks that often times lay less than 2 feet below the surface of the water. My father added additional commands for manipulating the throttle controls in these situations: "throttles ahead/astern a quarter," meant to increase or decrease power by one quarter. I went kayaking and stand-up paddle-boarding with some friends a few weeks ago, and was reminded of how natural I feel around water. I have always been relatively good at water sports, and they always give me a sense of freedom that is hard to describe. These freeing sensations were born with my maritime experience. As a teenager helping my father around the jet boats, I can remember sitting in the captain's chair, putting my right hand on the heavy, chromed, ball-shaped throttle lever handles and pushing them all the way forward. The bow of the boat rising out of the water and planing smoothly a crossed the surface is one of the most freeing experiences I have ever felt. Using the joystick in my left hand to turn the boat gave me the sensation of being connected to the vessel. It was if the joystick was an extension of my hand. Perhaps that's why I felt confident in driving a boat. Whenever I participate in water sports, or handle boats of varying shapes and sizes, I'm reminded of this natural connection to the watercraft. Being around the water, and running a boat is an incredibly tactual and freeing experience, and is second to the same type of freedom that I get from walking at a heart pounding, three-and-a-half mile an hour pace with my guide dog.

A Hand Full of Wrenches: Mastering Mechanical Systems Non Visually

I have roughly 20 years of mechanical experience. I've worked around engines large and small, generators, construction equipment, large jet boats and agricultural implements. By age eight I could explain the basic principles of the internal combustion engine. Four years later, maintaining my father's ranching equipment became a standard after-school chore, along with feeding the livestock and gathering firewood. During high school most of the "gear heads," in my class were familiar with auto makers such as Ford, GM, Dodge, Toyota and Honda. I however, learned to work on such brands as Case, International Harvester, Caterpillar, Detroit, Cummins, John Deer, Four Wheel Drive CO (FWD)and the commercial versions of Ford, GM and Dodge. I was responsible for checking and maintaining drivetrain fluid levels, changing oil, replacing fuel filters, charging batteries, greasing Zerk fittings, changing tires, and the occasional removal and replacement of something more challenging, such as a hydraulic pump. Like most things in my life, I came up with many non visual methods for the safe maintenance and operation of this equipment. checking fluids: Engine oil, transmission fluid and anything else measured with a stick was relatively easy to accomplish. Most dipsticks have either two raised dots or notches pressed into the metal. Hey, what do you know? I'm good with feeling dots! The dot closest to the bottom of the stick (or end farthest from the handle) is the "add fluid mark." The dot three or four inches up the stick is the "full mark." I feel for the full mark with one finger, then with the other I gently feel for the liquid. I have to be delicate or my finger could accidentally remove the liquid on the stick, which would give an inaccurate reading. I repeat this process once or twice more to ensure I'm getting consistent readings. Engine coolant is the easiest fluid to check. I employ what I call the "pointer finger test." I remove the radiator cap and stick my pointer finger into the opening. If my finger touches coolant, there's enough; if I can't feel it I add coolant by the quart. The most challenging fluids to measure are fuel and gear grease. Fuel is of course stored in a tank and measured by a gage. I resort to an old-school method of knocking on the tank. I start at the top and listen for the sound to change. If the tank echoes, it's at least partially empty; if the tank has a more dead, non-reverberating sound, it is full or contains some fuel. The point at which the echoing of my knuckles wrapping on the tank change from reverberation to a dampened, dense sound is roughly the level of the fuel. (give or take a couple of gallons). I sometimes use a stick to check fuel levels, but it depends on how long and what shape the fill tube is. Gear grease is the hardest and most messiest thing to measure. Unlike other fluids it is injected into specific moving parts via a small (about a half inch in diameter) tube called a zerk fitting. Sometimes I can tell if there is enough grease by the amount of it I feel splattered around the fitting. Other times I have to use my keen sense of hearing to listen for unusual sounds of the machine during startup. A more accurate method is to take note of how often the equipment is used and follow the manual's suggestions for greasing. The Handling of Fluids: I've gotten really good at pouring liquids in large quantities, and I've also gotten really good at cleaning up messes. haha Heavy duty mechanical fluids such as engine and hydraulic oil, hydraulic fluid and engine coolant often come in five gallon containers because of the large size of the vehicle they are going into. A funnel and a one quart container were my best used tools wen measuring fluids. Like anything else practice brings success. Picture this: I've got four five gallon pales that all look and feel alike, how do I tell them apart? Remember in science class when the teacher taught you how to waft the smell of a chemical toward your nose? I employ the very same technique. Each fluid has a very unique smell, which I learned to memorize. Renches and other Tools: Simple, I feel them! I am unable to read the printed size stamped into the wrench. At first it was trial and error, I would feel the nut or bolt I was working with and try to find a similar sized wrench. Often times it would take three or four tries before I found the correct one. As I progressed, I began to mentally associate the size of the wrench relative to the size of the nut or bolt simply by feeling them both. I can't do it with every size, but I've got the more common one's down, such as 1/2 or 7/16 of an inch. Personally, I like metric sizes the best because a smaller number equals a smaller size. No trying to remember if a 1/2 inch wrench is larger or smaller than a 9/16 inch wrench. Sockets and screwdriver sizes are determined in the same fashion. Batteries: These are not your AA batteries that you put in your TV remote. Actually, one of those AA tubes is called a cell; notice how most of the time you need two? That's because for electricity to flow you need positive and negative circuits and terminals. Automotive batteries require some caution when working around them. Usually they are connected to the vehicle by two cables; a positive and negative. They are color-coded red for positive and black for negative. Hook them up backwards and you can potentially cause the battery to explode, or force the engine to turn in the opposite direction, which can cause problems. So naturally, working around batteries non visually posed some unique challenges. Fortunately, most batteries today have the positive sign (denoted by a +) and the negative sign (denoted as a -) embossed as raised signs. I simply have to feel for the raised signs to know which terminal is which. The battery cables too have their own unique tactual designations. Most of the time the positive cable has a slightly larger connection then the negative one. This is because the positive cable sends power to the vehicle's starter, while the negative cable acts as a grounding wire to complete the circuit. I can not claim that I learned everything I know about mechanical systems on my own. I come from a long line of mechanics, and most of what I know today was the result of my father including me in his work. He believes that I should be treated like anybody else and working around heavy equipment was no exception. He helped me to develop and refine my tactual workarounds, so it's him I thank for this wide body of knowledge. My interest in how things work started at a young age, and was a large motivator in me learning what I know about mechanical systems today. This post just scratches the surface; I think I could write a whole book on this topic.

Being Social Without Sight

Being social as a person with a visual impairment is completely possible. Like many things, acquiring friends and a lover will most likely be done in a slightly different way. There are two main challenges that I think visually impaired people face and they are: 

1. The visual impairment is an obvious disability; it can not be hidden and one can not fake being a sighted person.  

2. As a student majoring in Public Relations, I can tell you that 80% of communication is nonverbal. This is based on the theories of communication. If you don't believe me, head to the closest university book store and buy a Communication Theories textbook. 

Unfortunately, many people in our society view an outward and obvious disability as something to avoid, because "it is not the same as everybody else." I hate to break it to everybody in the world, but we all have some kind of disability. Some, like a visual impairment are obvious; while others are less discrete. The important thing to remember here is we are all on this earth together; we mine as well all get along. As a university student I have found ways to make up for "being different." The first thing I try to do is relax. It's important to be confident in yourself and who you are. If you can't be confident in yourself, how do you expect somebody else to be confident in interacting with you? During lectures and class group work it's helpful to have a pretty good understanding of the material. If you, the visually impaired person have something to offer the class, people will tend to show more interest in you. 

Let me give an example: 

I'm taking a research methods class. One of the assignments was to create a set of survey questions beforehand and bring them to class. During class the students, including myself were told to form groups of three and work together on the questions. The two people I was working with needed some pointers. Because I had invested a little extra time in the homework I was able to explain the assignment to them. I went from the awkward    visually impaired guy to the student in the group who was able to provide some suggestions to my classmates. By the end of class, the three of us were having a great conversation. People love to be offered something, and if you as a visually impaired person can do that, I think the whole fear factor that surrounds the visual impairment will be significantly reduced. People will learn that you are just like them, that you are intelligent and that you can contribute to society.  

If you are sighted, you most likely use nonverbal communication in a variety of social settings. Head nodding, facial expressions and eye contact are very important factors in the world of face-to-face communication. Just for fun, try to interact with somebody (maybe a person you know, or not) without looking at the nonverbal communication they are sending you. That should give you a snapshot of what it's like to achieve good communication as a visually impaired person. I have learned to be a little more bold in my communication. I know that I can't make eye contact with somebody a crossed a room or respond appropriately to a facial expression. Instead I generally take the firs step in communicating with others. A lot of people have a hard time with this, but believe me, it gets easier. Instead of focusing on the forms of communication that I can not accurately send or receive, I focus on what I have. I've met a lot of people in my life, and I've learned how to use voice inflection, speech  and even body posture to make up for the lack of nonverbal communication. 

Another method I use is placing myself in common areas where people want to socialize.  Enter a room, a lounge or any other common space and stand off to one side slightly. Then, listen to the people, and judge the crowd flow. Are people just passing through the space? Are there a lot of people talking? What's going on? The best places usually involve people who are there because they want to socialize. They are not passing by on their way to a class or a meeting. People are not just hanging out on their laptops and smart phones.  Once you as the visually impaired person found a good spot to socialize, pick a spot to sit or stand next to somebody and just say "hello, how are you?" in a calm, cool, collected manner. Remember, be confident in yourself. After doing  this just start asking a few context specific questions. If I were at my university I mite ask things like "what's your major? or Did you go to the football game last weekend?" If you find that the person is giving you very simple answers, try using probing questions. No, I don't mean get all personal! Probing questions are like "I've never done/ate/been there; tell me more; what's it like?" People in general like to talk about themselves, and everybody has a story. Speaking of stories, when I am having a conversation with somebody whom I just met, or even a new friend I tend to speak very little about my visual impairment. I'm not ashamed of it, nor do I think it's not important, but simply put it's a subject that a lot of people know nothing about. If I want to have a one-sided conversation about myself that will ultimately    end in a diversity session for somebody else I'll just start talking about Braille, screen readers, guide dogs and eye conditions. Believe me, nothing kills off a conversation faster than talking to somebody you just met about a topic they can't contribute to. It's okay to answer a few questions about your visual impairment if they are asked, and it's okay to reference your visual impairment if it has a point other than you just talking about it. Personally, if a person asks fewer questions about my visual impairment and my guide dog, I take that as a good sign. Most of these conversations usually end up in me making a new friend. One could argue that the person who asks fewer questions about my visual impairment is holding back, they are uncomfortable and they don't know what to say about it. I agree to an extent, but that just leaves me the opportunity to promote the message of "I'm just like everybody else, accept I can't see, and that's okay." 

The Moral of the Story?  

Creating social circles in a society that judges way too much, and holds friends and strangers up to invisible standards as a visually impaired person is challenging. However, it can be done and it is done. Remember that not everybody you talk to is going to accept you for who you are, but that's okay too. At least you can sort out the cool people from the not so cool people. If you are visually impaired don't limit your social connections because people won't talk to you. Instead make an effort to go talk to them. If you are sighted, understand that a visually impaired person who isn't making full eye contact is not being rude; they just can't see. Never the less, they, like anybody else have a story to tell, and it just may be worth it for you to go and talk to them. 

A Hand Full Of Wrenches: the nuts and bolts of a visually impaired mechanic-the boat yard

. My parents own a guided jet boat tour business called Beamers Hells Canyon Tours. It's a family business and we provide guided jet boat tours of Hells Canyon, which is North America's deepest river gorge. Hells Canyon is a mile and a half deep from top to bottom,  outstripping the depth of the Grand Canyon by a half mile.  

As a kid and later as an adult I often help with the operation of the business. My parents have owned and operated Beamers Hells Canyon Tours for the past 23 years, and in that time I've worked in every facet; answering phones and taking reservations, running one of two river lodges in the summer, working as a deckhand/tour guide and assisting in minor and major repairs and maintenance of the fleet of boats. I've learned a lot, and I never stop learning; even today. 

I spent my spring break helping my Dad and Brother  prepare  the  fleet of jet boats for the upcoming tour season. We had several projects going on at the dry dock area: 

Mounting brackets for a set of bow-entry stairs were fabricated out of aluminum, and welded to the bow of one boat. The interior of the boat next door was being reassembled after it's mandatory U.S. Coast Guard approved hull inspection was complete. A third boat was slated to have it's engines removed and overhauled. I had a hand in the three projects mentioned above as well as a few others.  My main assignment however was the removal of the two 400 Horsepower Cummins diesel engines from one boat. Like any other engine or mechanical part, jet boat engines need to be maintained or overhauled in order to provide a safe and efficient experience. 

Okay, Jet Boat Mechanics 101 

The particular boat in question is 40 feet long and 12 feet wide. 

Each of the 400 horsepower engines weighs in at just over 1800 pounds, and are similar in size and power to a semi-truck or large intercity bus. 

Each engine drives a jet pump. The pump draws water from a grate in the bottom of the boat called a Sea Chest. The water is  pressurized  and forced  out the back of the boat by way of a device called an Impeller and a jet nozzle. The nozzle can be turned left or right (Port or Starboard) by way of hydraulic arms, which are controlled by a large joystick at the controls. 

The jet pumps can also be reversed to accommodate reverse motion of the boat. This is done by way of a Deflector or Bucket, which is controlled hydraulically and  when lowered covers the nozzle of the jet and forces the pressurized water down and toward the front of the boat. 

So how does one who is visually impaired remove such a complicated sounding mechanical system? You are about to find out! 

Like many things in life, this task is certainly not "visually impaired friendly." The engine room is slightly cramped, remember it's a space that is 12 feet wide, 14 feet long and about 4 feet deep. Engines, pumps, brackets, hoses, hull braces and other vital mechanical components impede progress. I first start by disconnecting the electrical power. This allows me the ability to feel every part of the engine without accidentally touching a live electrical component such as a starter switch. I then feel toward the bottom of the engine for a heavy duty nut and bolt assembly connected to a specially designed hull brace. This is one of four engine mounts. I work my way around, loosening and removing the torqued   down inch and a half diameter nuts with a nematic air wrench. To eliminate  confusion later I keep all of the components that I remove from each engine in separate containers; nothing is "just set aside." 

I move to the back of the engine and remove the shaft that transfers the power from the engine to the pump. There are 8 locknuts and bolts to be removed. It's slow work because each nut and bolt must be removed with two wrenches; one holding the nut and the other twisting the bolt. At the same time I'm feeling to make sure both wrenches are secured to their respective nuts and bolts. It's a practiced coordinated effort.  

Next come the fuel, hydraulic and engine coolant supply lines. Many of these are copper tubes connected to wrench removed fittings. One must be especially careful here, because one wrong twist of the wrench could result in the copper lines twisting and breaking  instead of the fitting twisting apart. A steady hand and complete concentration of the placement of my wrench and the direction it is turning are a must.  

From here, there's a couple of grounding wires and an electrical cable that connects the starter to the battery, all are removed by simple nuts of varying sizes. The challenging part is (A) feeling around for the proper connections, and (B) getting your wrench and hands in place to remove them.  

The last hurtle of disconnecting the engines is removing the exhaust pipe from the engine. It's easy to find; a large (6 inches in diameter)  elbow shaped steel pipe on the back, right-hand side of the engine. This connects to a similar sized tube running toward the back of the engine room. The heavy elbow shaped pipe is removed with four bolts conveniently hidden behind said pipe. (No thanks to the manufacturer) haha 

After almost a day's work, a dozen wrenches and tools, a few well chosen expletives  and a nice layer of grease on my hands the engines are ready to be removed. This is the really tricky part and requires two-three people. Two heavy-duty lifting chains are hooked to steel rings protruding from the top of the engine and are connected to the forks of a forklift by way of a special lifting arm. The engine is slowly hoisted up and off of it's mounts. This is a very delicate task: if the lifting arm of the forklift is not perfectly centered over the engine the tension placed on the chains will raise one end of the engine first, causing the other, lower end to hang up on the engine mounts. Try to imagine lifting a smaller box out of a larger box. After the engine clears the mounting brackets and is being lifted evenly it's up to the two people in the boat to swing the engine 90 degrees in order for it to clear the deck railings. Poised on a 4 inch rail used to hold deck plates my brother and I get on either side of the engine and spin it. At the same time the forklift operator slowly backs up the forklift. The engine rocks side to side slightly and I follow the narrow rail with my feet. After several minutes the engine has cleared the boat and is lowered safely onto an engine stand in the shop where it will be worked on. The other engine is removed in the same fashion. 

While the engines are removed, the engine room undergoes a deep cleaning by your's truly. It is good practice to keep all areas of a boat clean and well maintained, and the engine room is no exception.  

It had been a while since I had removed an engine from a boat, so it took some personal orientation to the work area as well as the engines themselves. As somebody who has worked on and around heavy equipment I've learned to develop techniques and workarounds for just about any task. One thing that is a must is spacial orientation, which is the knowledge of a person's motion relative to the physical space they currently occupy. There are many different nuts, bolts and fasteners that had to be removed, many of which required me to position my wrench at different angles. I have to constantly double-check that I'm turning the wrenches in the correct direction. Left and right are easy when you are sitting upright, but wen you are bent double trying to reach that one bolt, or you are crouched sideways between a battery box and a bulkhead it can be a little tricky to know which way is which, especially if the thing you are working on protrudes at a strange angle. Now add to that and close your eyes. It can be done, and it is done; you just have to think about your orientation. 

The moral of this very long story? (sorry readers for the lengthy description) 

Visually impaired people can do just about anything. All it takes is some courage, some thought, and a willingness to get your hands dirty. (literally in this case) I think back on my mechanical experiences and realize that what I just described was the result of roughly 20 years of working in a shop. Currently, I'm not planning on a career in diesel  mechanics, however I am very thankful to have the opportunity to try something that most visually impaired people don't get to do. It doesn't look it, but working in an environment like this has taught me so much about adaptations, about awareness, about never giving up, and of course about how something works mechanically. Sometimes I reflect on a project like this and think "how did I do that?" There are times when I can't even answer that question, so my response is "I explored, I thought, I tried, I did it." 

My Abilities Don't Line Up With My passions and Dreams: what do I do?

Many of us have that one dream or passion that is unreachable do to some kind of physical or mental disability. Maybe it's wishing you were a pro football player, but you don't have the correct body type. Maybe you would love to go to the moon, but aren't strong enough in math and science to get a high level astrophysics degree required for the job. 

What do you do if you are visually impaired and most of your interests, dreams and passions are unreachable do to your visual impairment?  I have worked all my life to find the answer to this question. Sometimes  I have been frustrated by the fact that many of my interests do not line up with my visual abilities. How does one find happiness when they are unsatisfied with the "visually impaired friendly" options that society offers?  There is a positive solution to these questions: 

I have always been interested in boats large and small. As a kid I used to build them out of legos and then test out my designs in the bathtub. When I got a little older I learned how to use a table saw and I used to create wooden vessels out of pieces of scrap wood laying around my dad's shop. I told people that I was going to be a ship captain just like my dad, who taught me how to run a boat by age eight. I didn't think about the logistics of doing this job as a visually impaired person  until I was an adult, then the reality of my abilities hit me. How was I going to be a ship captain, or  a heavy equipment operator, or a pilot or an architect? The simple answer was I wasn't, at least not with today's technology. 

The story doesn't stop here however, and it does have a happy ending. I may not be able to be a ship captain or a pilot, but that doesn't mean I can't get very close to my dream or passion. The key is finding a job in the industry where my dream is and working alongside it. Let's use my interest of being a ship captain for example: 

I can't be a captain of a big ship, but there are other jobs onboard a ship that I could do. If it's a cruise ship, there are tons of jobs in hospitality, guest services, management, food service and entertainment. A job onboard a ship would allow me the opportunity to work in a similar part of the industry that I am most passionate about.   

I am getting a degree in Public Relations, and I now know why. Simply pup, Public Relations deals with managing an organization's image and actions  through the use of all forms of mass communication channels as well as teaching members of the organization how to act accordingly in front of their publics depending on the situation. I say "if I can't run a ship or fly a plane, at least I can learn everything there is to know and then talk about it to others." I believe that Public Relations will allow me to work in industries otherwise off limits to me. 

The Moral of the Story? 

I am  jus like everybody else; I have dreams and passions that I just can't get to. However, with some personal encouragement, willpower,  creativity and a positive attitude I can still chase my dreams and do a job that is realistic and attainable.  Just because one particular job is out of your reach, doesn't mean another closely related job is. 

Why the Word "Blind," is Inaccurate When Referring to Limited Eyesight in Today's World of Words

The word "blind," has been the definition of somebody who does not have the use of their eyesight for as long as there have been words. I believe in today's world of words, the definition of the word "blind," has changed to define one who is unknowing or unaware. Society often changes the definitions of words to fit our changing world. Think of the word "friend," most of us picture somebody who shares the same interests as us, somebody who has been through thick and thin or somebody who knows you well and understands your personality traits. Then Facebook was invented and the definition of "friend," changed significantly. We appear to currently define a "friend," as anybody we know. Some people however, have hundreds or even thousands of "friends," according to Facebook, but do they really have that many friends? Do they even know that many people? This is just one example of the constantly changing definitions of words. 

So back to the word "blind," Why do I think it has a different definition? 

Most of us have heard of, or been on a blind date. You are unaware of who this person is, and you know nothing about them, including if they are your type. haha Here the word "blind," is implied to mean unaware and unknowing. Now think about two different types of studies used for medical or psychological testing of products or techniques on a group of people:  blind and double blind studies. 

A blind study is when the participants do not know if they are receiving the actual treatment being tested (experimental group) or receiving no treatment/a placebo (the control group). However, the administrators know who receives which treatment. 

A double blind study is when nobody, not even administrators of the test know who is receiving which treatment. 

Both types of studies imply some degree of the unknown or unawareness. So, society has effectively changed or confused the definition of the word "blind." 

Things change, people change and life never stops. I believe it is important to embrace change to some degree. I have decided to stop using the word "blind," when referring to somebody who has a lack of eyesight. Instead I prefer to use the words "visually impaired." I know, it's two whole words as opposed to one, but it's better than saying "blind or visually impaired." From a journalistic standpoint those three words are redundant. 

There are a wide array of visual impairments, which span from the person who says "I can't see without my glasses or contacts," to the person who says "I can not see at all." All of these people have something in common: They all have impaired vision. The term visually impaired does not state to what degree of visual impairment a person has, but that's  the beauty   of using this term as opposed to the word "blind," which used to imply that somebody had no eyesight. The word "blind," has such a negative stigma attached to it; who wants to be known as the person who knows nothing about anything? Not I! 

So what is my rationale? 

I've been conducting my own personal social experiments on sighted people for the last 18 months or so,Many of which  I had never met  before. I would refer to myself as a person who is blind when talking about my eyesight, or lack of it. I would keep this up for a couple of conversations. Then I would switch the term and use the words "visually impaired." I would often talk to classmates in one college class and use the word "blind," and use the words "visually impaired in another class.  I realized that people seemed to regard me as an individual first, who happens to have less eye sight when using the words "visually impaired." When I would use the word "blind," people tended to regard me as a person who is unaware or unknowing, and that anything I knew was simply amazing.  

I'm sure many of you who may be visually impaired or who work with people who are visually impaired are shaking your heads at this post and saying "surely a simple word can't be responsible for shifting the misconceptions of people who are visually impaired." Yes, you are correct; one word is not the magic bullet. However, if society has inadvertently changed the definition of the word "blind," to mean unaware or unknowing, wouldn't it be necessary to accept the change and use two words that clearly state the definition of a person's lack of eyesight? I'm of course suggesting the words "visually impaired." Society understands that "impaired," means limited functionality. Think of what alcohol does to peoples judgments when they consume too much of the stuff. It Impairs specific parts of the brain, correct? So if somebody is "visually impaired," society should understand that to mean a person's eyesight is not functioning fully. The word "blind," means unaware and unknowing, and the last time I checked I was neither of those. 

The moral of the story? 

If you see a person who appears to have limited eyesight, and you must refer to their limited eyesight use the words "visually impaired." When you are seeing this person for the first time and your mind is looking for words to remember them by, try not to think "oh there's a blind girl or guy," instead replace the word "blind," with the words "visually impaired." You may find yourself able to see the concepts of limited eyesight much clearer. 

Winter Travel: getting around a cold, wet and slippery landscape on foot

A lone guide dog and handler  slip and slide a cross snow and ice covered sidewalks. The two of them pick  their way through piles of snow. The temperature hovers just above zero degrees F, and the winds produce  windchill readings that often approach negative ten Degrees F. The prevailing winds, which blow anywhere from 10-30 MPH polish the frozen snow to a smooth, shiny, icy finish that could rival a neatly groomed indoor ice rink. Even with all of this the team manages to maintain their standard team speed of three miles per hour. How do they do it? 

As professional pedestrians my guide dog and I face all sorts of wintery weather conditions;  bitterly cold and dangerous icy conditions, driving rain, sleet, snow, hale and high winds that can blow a 50 pound Labrador off course. Life goes on, no matter what the weather is doing, and it's all about how I prepare myself and my dog to handle the conditions. Like pilots, I follow minimum and maximum operating conditions. For example, the minimum temperature for safe travel is -20 Degrees F and the maximum operating temperature is 110 degrees F (using the appropriate gear for extremes). The only types of weather that ground travel from a safety standpoint are extreme blizzards, thunder storms and extreme winds. 

The above mentioned anecdote has been a real life experience during the late fall and winter. Every day is a judgment call on what type of winter gear will help us get safely to and from classes and around town. It's pretty easy to prepare a human for the weather, but a dog who spends roughly 50-60 percent of their time indoors, and who is unable to tell you if he or she is cold or hot is something else. Depending on the winter weather I outfit my guide with rough Wear dog booties and a heavy, fleece lined coat. 

The booties keep wet snow, ice and salt from building up in between their toes and on their pads. Salt and other de-icing chemicals is hard on a dog's feet, and in some cases can cause their pads to be very sore. If we have traveled any significant distance over de-iced sidewalks, my dog gets a rinse down in the tub at the end of the day to remove the dirt and de-icing chemicals that have been flecked on to her belly. I do not use soap, because it would dry the dog's skin out, leading to skin irritation and hot spots. Just like people's hands or feet prolonged contact with cold and or wet surfaces  can cause frostbite. Still, it's a system of give and take with the booties. My dog does not enjoy wearing them, and she gets less traction on the ice. However, they protect her feet from the elements. I always keep a set of booties in my bag just in case I decide to put them on. 

The winter coat   is more than just a fashion statement. My dog wears her coat when the air temperature drops below 25 degrees F. This keeps the dog's core warm, especially when waiting for the bus, or standing on a windswept street corner waiting to cross.   

It can be very disconcerting for a guide dog when one day the entire outdoor landscape changes from well contrasted sidewalks, curbs, steps  and crosswalks to a white, featureless work environment. Guide Dogs generally learn specific, well traveled routs, but like people with sight  they rely on visual cues to guide them along. When thees are taken away, my dog's task of guiding becomes more challenging. I have to slow down significantly to allow my dog to orient herself and make the correct judgment calls, especially when turning or locating a street curb. Sometimes I have to be more encouraging than usual in an attempt to assist my dog in locating things. 

 I must be completely focused so that I can assist my dog while traveling over snow and ice. I have developed smaller "sub-routs," along my desired travel rout to avoid the worst of the slippery conditions. Sometimes it's as simple as slowing down my dog, or as advanced as asking my dog to turn to the right or left, zigzagging around large patches of finely polished ice. Communication between my dog and I must be top notch in order to achieve safe and efficient travel. OUr reflexes must be sharp. Often times both my dog and I don't know how stable our next step will be. Is it scary? No, it's part of life, and I rely on my experience and adventurous spirit to keep me standing up. 

Winds can make a 50 pound Labrador's job of guiding quite a challenge. A cross wind blowing 25 MPH, gusting to 40 MPH has enough force to push my dog over by two or three steps. She counters this by turning her body slightly into the wind and pulley with all her strength. As a result it is very challenging to maintain a completely straight line of travel. It feels like we are zigzagging slightly down the sidewalk, and that's because we are. Sometimes slowing down helps  keep us on track. I have my own challenges with wind. The constant blowing in my ears makes it very difficult to localize traffic or other audible landmarks. My best defense is to be more cautious and assess each situation individually. Sometimes it's necessary to divert to an intersection that is easier to cross. 

The moral of the story? 

Life keeps moving, no matter what the weather is doing. One of my jobs when it comes to independent travel is to overcome, adapt and always be prepared, putting my dog's needs of comfort and safety above my own. 

The Importance of Self Image

I had to write a reflection paper on the performance theories of communication as an assignment in my Communication Theorie class. I thought some of the concepts I discuss in this short summery are important for everybody to read. There is some technical jargon because this is of course an assignment, but I hope my explanations make sense. 

Chapter 6 discussed several concepts relating to performance studies. Back stage and front stage actions have to do with personal presentation of ourselves to others. Erving Goffman developed the dramaturgical theory, which explains how people perform in their day-to-day lives. This theory is similar to dramatism theory discussed in chapter five. Performance ethnography is another theory that describes the performance of people based on their ethnicity. This theory has two parts: thick and thin readings of cultural life.  Thin readings are much like brute facts, likewise, thick readings are like institutional facts. Performance theories are often applied to political actions for change, social normalcy or to uphold standards in society.  

When I first studied the concepts of back and front stage performances I thought to myself "I'm a pretty straight forward guy; what you see is what you get." Then I kept reading and realized that I put on a front and back stage performance every day. I don't think anybody could possibly act the same in either situation, although I think somebody who is not easily swayed by public opinion of themselves could get very close. Still, we all do funny stuff at home that we would never do in front of a group of people. Personally, I find the presentation of self image to be very important to me. It is often thought that one with limited eyesight could not possibly live independently, hold down a job or be social just like his or her sighted peers. This of course is not the case, and I back that up with 25 years of living as a person who happens to be visually impaired. Still, I can't just tell you, or my classmates, or the entire  campus, or even the world. No, I have to present this claim to every person I meet. I do this by presenting  a self reliant, confident, intelligent, good natured complexion. You may be thinking "why try so hard?" or "why would you try to be somebody you are not?" It's not hard; it's natural. I grew up in a sighted world, with sighted family and friends around me. I refuse to be pigeon-holed into a pre-casted mold, which is created by society's misconceptions of me. This is why self image and performance theories are so   important. 

Reflecting on performance ethnography, if everybody walked a day in somebody els's shoes, we would all be a little more informed, a little more understanding, a little nicer to others and less judgmental. I find it very interesting to learn about how other people view the world around them. I taught independent living skills to visually impaired adults for six years and more often than not, before teaching somebody a new skill I would first stop and watch them act naturally in their home environment. In this case it was the training facility/dormitory where the students were living during their training.  I would observe as much about my students as possible. I would observe social interactions, make note about physical or emotional challenges that they faced or simply how they presented themselves when interacting with me as well as the general public. I learned if I took the time to try and put myself in their shoes and try to understand the challenges they faced I would be a better instructor figure to them. I often saw success in the lessons I taught and the techniques I implemented after taking the time to observe my students in their natural setting. So what is my point? Take time and truly get to know somebody. Listen to their story with active ears and mind, put yourself in their place and appreciate their efforts. and see how the concepts of performance ethnography apply to their lives. 

Pealing Back Society's Labeling Habit: why labeling isn't always a good thing

It was a chilly January morning as I entered my first class of the winter term, Mass Media and the Information Society. At the door of the classroom I was greeted by a friendly teacher's assistant who help me find a seat. I didn't think too much about the particular chair and small table the assistant had suggested until I began unpacking my things for class.  I don't know why, but I'm a pretty observant person, and always have been. As I settled my dog next to my chair and put my bag down,  my pin-hole sized amount of unpredictable and often unreliable eyesight noticed something on the surface of the desk. The black outline of some image or maybe even a word contrasted greatly against the white surface. With a minute to spare I took a closer look and studied the lines hard. What I saw was the universal sign for Disability Access; the outline of a person sitting in a wheelchair. Under this sign were three letters: "DSS," which in the collegiate world stands for Disability Support Services. I sat down just as the professor walked in the door and began his lecture. Like a good student I listened to the lecture and took studious notes. As I listened, I began feeling very uncomfortable about sitting behind a desk that clearly stated I was a person with a disability. I new I would have to make a change. Two days later and 10 minutes before the next session of class was due to start I walked into an almost empty classroom and confidently picked a desk that had no label, and one that looked just like the rest. It was great! I made conversation with two classmates and because of the placement of my chosen seat I could hear the professor much, much better. 

It is fact, that I'm very accepting of my visual impairment and understand that it's pretty obvious that I have limited eyesight. It's also fact that I am very intolerant of society's methods of labeling me as a person with a disability. Most people who see me know that I'm visually impaired before even saying a word to me, and this is totally acceptable. However, I do not believe it is necessary to have additional labels placed on physical objects such as a desk or chair. The  experience described above allowed me to prove to myself that I'm a person first, who is then accepting of his impairment but will stop at nothing to be just like everybody else. Some people argue that it is necessary to have a universal label placed on a physical object so that people who do not have a disability do not occupy the physical object. This is a fair reason. However, I strongly dislike labels. I find them to breed stereotypes, preconceived notions, misconceptions and skewed perceptions of people. I don't fight against the system of physical signage; instead I choose not to be in a physical space where  

such a label is placed. In the anecdote above I found a different desk without a label. 

I was raised in a sighted world, treated like a sighted person (for the most part), expected to do everything my sighted siblings had to do and was expected to "keep up," with my friends. I didn't know there was such a thing called "society's labels," until I left home and began studying and working as an adult. I was then bombarded by assumptions, strangely worded questions about my visual impairment, preconceived conclusions about me and fragmented social relationships with sighted people. My can-do attitude, along with my unwavering drive to fit in and be just like everybody else took over and I developed a system that would attempt to chisel away society's labels about myself as well as others with a visual impairment. 

So, naturally the idea of sitting behind a desk with a giant label proclaiming I was the guy with the disability rubbed against every grain inside of me. My "label avoidance system," as I like to call it took over and I created a plan that would allow me to go around society's fabricated label in an attempt to be a person first, who is visually impaired, but is able to do just about anything a fully sighted person is able to do. 

I have many physical and mental tools that are designed specifically for a visually impaired person including a guide dog, a computer with special software that interprets the output on the screen and turns it into synthesized speech, a mind designed for memorizing and the ability to know which cardinal  direction I'm facing no matter where I am in the world. Some of these tools, like the guide dog or computer are outwardly obvious to other people, and some are not. Either way I employ these tools as a way of adapting myself to the sighted world, so I can do almost everything everybody else can. These tools are not a large sign proclaiming "I'm blind, and I'm helpless." I'll do just about anything to do what everybody else is doing and I'll stop at nothing to fight off society's preconceived label of me. 

By now you must be thinking "wow this guy is really   righteous and is a non-conformist who really is scared to death of his visual impairment and is taking it out on society." Okay, fair enough, I could understand how one could draw this conclusion. I can assure you I am not righteous of the highest degree. I am a reasonable person. If I were really righteous I would have firmly told the Teacher's Assistant never to show me to a desk that has a preconceived label. As written above I said nothing and instead created my own workaround that  is positive for everybody involved. I will not let society label me unfairly, but I will not chastise somebody for asking a question or performing an action that I don't agree with. Especially if it is one where the person simply has no idea about the complex issue of society's labeling habits. Please understand I'm a person who believes in independence as well as interdependence; we all need both for the world to go around. I take a lot of pride in fitting in and honestly I enjoy the challenge most days. 

The Moral of the Story? 

Before labeling somebody I.E making assumptions, passing judgements or rushing to conclusions learn about the person first. Talk to them, hear their story and learn what they are about. Then, be creative and give them their own unique label. I personally believe this ideal can be applied to anybody, no matter their abilities. Who knows that person a crossed the room who you assumed was nuts just may become your best friend, and that is what you get when you peal back society's labels and see the person for just that, a person.