If you are a student in my freshman composition class, you will be asked to analyze the title of any given reading on the syllabus. I tell my students, “Titles mean a lot; writers choose them deliberately.” I don’t say this because I’ve read extensive theory validating this claim. I say it because I, as … More Three Little Things
Dear Christina, I don’t know quite how to begin, so I just will. It’s really hard not having you here. I miss you so much. On most days, I can smile, remembering all the fun we’ve had, but today, I just can’t make it work. I’m crying as I type this, blowing my nose on … More Dear Christina
(In this entry, I am going to shamelessly use Javier as a narrative catalyst. He drives me where I want to go, describes some events and expressions after the events take place, and has 1-2 lines of significant dialogue. I can’t tell the story without him, so I hope he’s OK with being a rather … More Wax On, Wax Off
I am standing at the front of the classroom, a black dry-erase marker clutched in my hand. As the class settles down, I pop the marker’s cap on and off, enjoying the satisfying click of the plastic. My colleague, Chris, has just handed the lesson over to me. The room fills with the sound of … More A little help
Now that I am traveling independently on campus, I am responsible for opening doors for myself and calling for my own elevators. I do not mind these tasks; I use them as an opportunity to rejoice in my own autonomy. I reach eagerly for the high-contrast chrome door-pulls and jab resolutely at the glossy roundness … More Braille Fail: On the Blink Investigates the Dotty Placement of Elevator Embossment
it’s the second day of class and I am assigning group work. The students must gather in groups of 5-7 and complete a series of definitions. While they work, I sit at my desk (which is much too high for me) and take notes on their work habits. On my paper, I write things like … More Overheard and Underwhelmed
During my senior year of high school, a newspaper reporter interviewed me for an article on the organization that had awarded me a generous scholarship. Because the organization regularly offers scholarships and other attentions to blind and visually-impaired people, the article focused heavily on my vision and how I use it. At some point in … More Perfect Vision
She has appeared in previous blogs, wielding a bottle of Puffy Paint and wearing a determined expression. She has uttered such maxims as, “A clean house is a sign of a boring woman” and “Disappointment builds character.” She has encouraged me to try everything from sewing on buttons and making lemon meringue pie to painting … More Empowerment
At 6:45 on Tuesday night, Sherry and I enter the rehearsal space. We are among the first to arrive. We thread our way through the round tables toward the front of the room and deposit our bags. Internally, I’m bouncing with excitement. After six long years of absence, I finally get to sing with these … More In the Care of a Chorus
It’s a big day. Graduation. The sky is blue, the geese are honking, and the sun is shining — almost entirely on me, I think, because I can feel its heat, intensified by my black robes. They work as effective solar panels as Adrianna, my good friend and long-time sighted guide, and I walk toward … More Commencement: Sometimes a cane takes you places beyond your imagining.
It is a beautiful day to be outside. With bright sunlight throwing the path before me into high contrast and a cool breeze threatening to yank the cane out of my hand as I walk, it’s the kind of day I revel in, a day where my concentration is wrenched from cautious mobility by a … More Accidental Affability
Dance lessons always begin the same way. I enter the room, walking confidently with my cane and possibly holding the arm of a girlfriend, and we laughingly find our way to a chair or bench, depending on the room’s amenities. We take off our everyday shoes and strap ourselves into Dancing Shoes – high heels … More On the Floor: Blindness & Ballroom Dancing
Springtime. Adorable baby chicks. Pastel colors everywhere. The punchy smell of vinegar as Mom prepares the colors for dying eggs. A line of little coffee cups hold the little colored tabs fizzing away. I claim the red one. And the purple. A beribboned Easter dress in shades of pastel pink or lavender, maybe even yellow. … More Happy Easter, Boys and Girls!
A few years ago, my brother and I were doing a bit of grocery shopping, and, as we wandered through the produce section, he abruptly stopped the cart. Trying to suppress a mischievous laugh, he reached for something on a shelf and said, grinning, “Feel this!” When he put it into my hand, I immediately … More “How does it feel?”: Exploring touch and texture
After I graduate, I want to audition for a group that brings musicians and artists to hospitals, nursing homes, hospices, and similar facilities. The idea of singing as healing has always appealed to me, much more so than the thought of performing. I don’t feel the urge to be the center of attention onstage where … More The curing hymn
On the Blink 