Affirmation Of My Thoughts: Advocacy For Blind-Friendly Dollars Not A Good Idea
The Midas Touch
A few posts ago I offered some views on the unreliability, silliness and impracticality of the law suit over making US currency more "blind-friendly." It appears that even leaders among some of the most active advocates for the visually-impaired and blind are in agreement with me, if not on the particulars and specifics, then on the principles and practicalities. Marc Maurer, president of the National Federation of the Blind, offers a much more eloquent expression of opposition, but he has more knowledge and experience in the field. Without ego, I defer to Mssr. Maurer's expertise and advanced field work.
I appreciate the framework Maurer places on the idea of discrimination. It changes the notion that merely being disadvantaged or differently abled is in and of itself a disability or the basis of discrimination. In his view, there has to be a denial of the same service, opportunity or level of participation because of a failure to allow accomodation.
Not only does Maurer recognize and articulate the idea that an inconvenience is not the same as discrimination, but he articulates that even those that are differently abled, or even handicapped, has some responsibility, within their ability and opportunity, for taking charge of their own lives. In my experience working with those with disabilities, most would agree that they want to be as responsible for their own decisions, their own life direction and the handling of their affairs. While the society has an obligation to assist as needed, that assistance should not inherently seek to enslave those with disabilities to the very process of being disabled.
Some many years ago I used to ride the T (Boston Commuter Rail & Subways) into Boston from Swampscott, then hop the Red Line to Downtown Quincy to go to work. It was a daily routine. I met a lot of "regulars" and as is the case with many that commute, we got accustomed to each other. A few folks I met during those commutes were disabled.
One lady was a Harvard research associate and was blind. She used a seeing eye dog to assist her through the perils of commuting and traversing the streets of Boston. The dog was a medium-sized black lab that was probably the best behaved beast I have ever seen. I knew enough from my own work with dogs and my experience in advocacy not to seek to pet the dog without permission, and certainly not when the dog was working. But we often talked about the dog, the perils of commuting (or the drudgery), issues shared with bosses and such. The one thing that this woman hated about our society and the way people looked at blind people was the sense that she was disabled by being blind. She acknowledged that being blind required some accomodation from society, presented a few challenges for her, but was not something that warranted any pity or outpouring of what she called "phony concern." She would often say that she would prefer people not to notice the dog because she had to spend a lot of time teaching others not to pity her and not to distract the dog while working.
Another person I met was a man in a wheelchair. He worked in one of the federal buildings in Boston. He used to get really ticked off at people who would park in the handicapped zones, or who would sit in the areas of the commuter rails or subways marked for wheelchairs... and those that would bitch and moan about the time it took to allow wheelchair access to a bus, railcar or subway car. But other than that, he despised the attention his wheelchair seemed to get, even from people that dealt with him every day. I met this man when he got ticked off at me because I held the door open for him at a local convenience store near the train station. He yelled at me for trying to "pamper" him because he was in a wheelchair. I yelled back that I didn't give a damn about him, but that I was holding the door open for the lady behind him and he just happened to benefit from my mother teaching me manners. He laughed, apologized for being an inconsiderate ass, and we would sometimes sit together on the commute on odd occasions after that rocky first meeting.
But the most striking handicapped person I ever met was a twelve-year-old girl afflicted with spina bifida. Her entire life had been spent in a wheelchair. Going to bed, getting dressed, urinating, defecating, showering--everything she did in life--required some accomodation and direct assistance from others. But she did not see herself as disadvantaged, disabled or someone to be pitied. She did all that she could and was quite good at what she did. She faced everyday challenges as a part of being alive and embraced that life with more gusto and love than most people I have ever met. She actually talked a lot about why others felt the need to patronize the differently abled, even in efforts to advocate for accomodation and participation to the fullest extent possible. She told me on a long road trip that she felt sorry for those people that feared her abilities and felt the need to intervene.
I think Maurer has expressed that same sound reasoning that other people I have come to know have about their different abilities. Everyone wants life to be a little easier. Everyone appreciates a hand up when it is needed. But no one wants a hand out, pity (especially when they are the object of that pity), or to be patronized.
Neither do those of us that are genuinely concerned about being genuinely accomodating and aware of the needs of others want to be bullied, taken advantage of, or tapped to pay for the ridiculous.
A few posts ago I offered some views on the unreliability, silliness and impracticality of the law suit over making US currency more "blind-friendly." It appears that even leaders among some of the most active advocates for the visually-impaired and blind are in agreement with me, if not on the particulars and specifics, then on the principles and practicalities. Marc Maurer, president of the National Federation of the Blind, offers a much more eloquent expression of opposition, but he has more knowledge and experience in the field. Without ego, I defer to Mssr. Maurer's expertise and advanced field work.
Discrimination occurs when the blind are barred from enjoying benefits, goods or services. This definition of discrimination is what most people understand the word to mean. If a landlord refuses to rent an apartment to someone because of race, color, creed or disability, then discrimination occurs. Sometimes people with disabilities are barred from certain facilities or services because of the way they are designed. A person in a wheelchair cannot climb the steps of a public building; if the building does not have a wheelchair ramp, that person is prevented from entering it. In another example, my group is suing the Target Corporation because the company’s Web site doesn’t accommodate the special text-reading software that the blind use to surf the Internet. In both cases, a person with a disability is kept out of a public place or denied use of a service, just as African-Americans were not welcome at whites-only lunch counters.
I appreciate the framework Maurer places on the idea of discrimination. It changes the notion that merely being disadvantaged or differently abled is in and of itself a disability or the basis of discrimination. In his view, there has to be a denial of the same service, opportunity or level of participation because of a failure to allow accomodation.
But while blind people cannot identify paper currency by touch, that does not prevent us from spending money. When we hand merchants our money, they take it and provide us with the goods or services we have paid for, no questions asked. People with whom we transact business provide us with correct change if needed, and we then organize the money in a manner that allows us to identify it in the future. We transact business in this way every day.
There is no evidence that the blind are shortchanged more often than the sighted; if a question does arise about a particular transaction, it is the responsibility of the blind person to sort out the matter. Identifying money by feel, as the blind are often able to do in many other countries, may be more convenient, but inconvenience is not the same thing as discrimination.
Not only does Maurer recognize and articulate the idea that an inconvenience is not the same as discrimination, but he articulates that even those that are differently abled, or even handicapped, has some responsibility, within their ability and opportunity, for taking charge of their own lives. In my experience working with those with disabilities, most would agree that they want to be as responsible for their own decisions, their own life direction and the handling of their affairs. While the society has an obligation to assist as needed, that assistance should not inherently seek to enslave those with disabilities to the very process of being disabled.
Some many years ago I used to ride the T (Boston Commuter Rail & Subways) into Boston from Swampscott, then hop the Red Line to Downtown Quincy to go to work. It was a daily routine. I met a lot of "regulars" and as is the case with many that commute, we got accustomed to each other. A few folks I met during those commutes were disabled.
One lady was a Harvard research associate and was blind. She used a seeing eye dog to assist her through the perils of commuting and traversing the streets of Boston. The dog was a medium-sized black lab that was probably the best behaved beast I have ever seen. I knew enough from my own work with dogs and my experience in advocacy not to seek to pet the dog without permission, and certainly not when the dog was working. But we often talked about the dog, the perils of commuting (or the drudgery), issues shared with bosses and such. The one thing that this woman hated about our society and the way people looked at blind people was the sense that she was disabled by being blind. She acknowledged that being blind required some accomodation from society, presented a few challenges for her, but was not something that warranted any pity or outpouring of what she called "phony concern." She would often say that she would prefer people not to notice the dog because she had to spend a lot of time teaching others not to pity her and not to distract the dog while working.
Another person I met was a man in a wheelchair. He worked in one of the federal buildings in Boston. He used to get really ticked off at people who would park in the handicapped zones, or who would sit in the areas of the commuter rails or subways marked for wheelchairs... and those that would bitch and moan about the time it took to allow wheelchair access to a bus, railcar or subway car. But other than that, he despised the attention his wheelchair seemed to get, even from people that dealt with him every day. I met this man when he got ticked off at me because I held the door open for him at a local convenience store near the train station. He yelled at me for trying to "pamper" him because he was in a wheelchair. I yelled back that I didn't give a damn about him, but that I was holding the door open for the lady behind him and he just happened to benefit from my mother teaching me manners. He laughed, apologized for being an inconsiderate ass, and we would sometimes sit together on the commute on odd occasions after that rocky first meeting.
But the most striking handicapped person I ever met was a twelve-year-old girl afflicted with spina bifida. Her entire life had been spent in a wheelchair. Going to bed, getting dressed, urinating, defecating, showering--everything she did in life--required some accomodation and direct assistance from others. But she did not see herself as disadvantaged, disabled or someone to be pitied. She did all that she could and was quite good at what she did. She faced everyday challenges as a part of being alive and embraced that life with more gusto and love than most people I have ever met. She actually talked a lot about why others felt the need to patronize the differently abled, even in efforts to advocate for accomodation and participation to the fullest extent possible. She told me on a long road trip that she felt sorry for those people that feared her abilities and felt the need to intervene.
While it is crucial that minorities have a voice in society, it is also the responsibility of every minority group to use that voice wisely and not to cry “discrimination” when no discrimination has occurred. The blind of America will fight discrimination wherever we find it, but we achieve nothing by falsely portraying ourselves as victims and engaging in frivolous litigation.
I think Maurer has expressed that same sound reasoning that other people I have come to know have about their different abilities. Everyone wants life to be a little easier. Everyone appreciates a hand up when it is needed. But no one wants a hand out, pity (especially when they are the object of that pity), or to be patronized.
Neither do those of us that are genuinely concerned about being genuinely accomodating and aware of the needs of others want to be bullied, taken advantage of, or tapped to pay for the ridiculous.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home