According to The National Federation of the Blind's report from the Jernigan Institute, there is a "Braille Literacy Crisis in America." They claim that fewer than 10 percent of the 1.3 million people who are legally blind in the United States are Braille readers. Only 10 percent of blind children in the US are learning Braille. Over 70 percent of blind adults are unemployed, and as many as 50 percent of blind high school students drop out. The report's authors blame this on factors such as a shortage of qualified Braille teachers, an increasing reliance on recorded audio, and text-to-speech technologies.
I now recognize the benefits of knowing braille, particularly as my vision is failing to the point that I can barely read notes I wrote to myself with felt pens. If my sight worsens, I'll have to relearn braille. It certainly would help me keep track of writing opportunities and I could make my own address and phone directory.
In the autumn of 1966, my vision was somewhat better than it is today. I couldn't understand then why I had to learn something that I believed was meant only for totally blind people. From Deliverance From Jericho (Six Years in a Blind School), this excerpt shows that even my teachers didn't realize how beneficial Lewis Braille's alphabet would be to their students.
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Another subject which caused me difficulty was braille. "I can see large print. Why do I have to learn braille?" I objected.
"You have to learn it. It's part of the curriculum," Mrs. Auld explained.
I tried not to look at the arrangement of dots on the page but occasionally the temptation became too strong. "Stop looking at the paper," our teacher admonished whenever I peeked.
As I returned to feeling the page and trying to figure out which letter my finger was on, I silently wished Louis Braille had not invented his alphabet of raised dots.
Mrs. Auld also began teaching us to braille with a slate and stylus. This device was a long strip of metal with a hinge in the middle. Half of the strip was perforated with holes which formed the braille letter cells and the other half had corresponding dimples. braille paper was inserted between the arms of the metal strips and the stylus was poked through the holds, creating braille text.
Using a slate and stylus proved difficult. I had to learn the braille letters in reverse so they would come out right on the paper. It was like learning a whole new alphabet. As with braille lessons, my teacher gave me no choice in the matter. Consequently, I hated each lesson. Using the Perkins brailler, a typewriter-like device with eight keys on its front, seemed to be a much more efficient way to write braille. The machine was heavy but at least I could relate better to it than brailling backwards with a slate and stylus.
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Deliverance from Jericho contains many more vignettes of what life was like in that government-run institution. These range from poignant experiences of homesickness to hilarious incidents of mischief. Click here to read more about this book and to order it. You may also e-mail me directly for more information.
Thursday, 30 September 2010
Friday, 24 September 2010
HOW I BROUGHT THE WORLD TO ONE ZAMBIAN PRISONER
In an institution such as Jericho Hill School for the Deaf and Blind, little things meant a lot. Like all schools, this one had its "in crowd" as well as those who languished at the bottom of the social ladder.
In the summer of 1966, my father tired of my begging and bought me a six transistor pocket radio. It was black with silver paint on its speaker grill and tuning dial. I fell in love with that little set. With it, I heard some of the greatest rock music the record industry ever produced.
Realizing how precious such a simple receiver was to me when I was exiled 500 miles from home, I sent a wind-up radio, one with a dynamo and rechargeable battery, to a Christian prisoner in Zambia. It literally meant the world to him as he could finally get news from "outside" via the BBC. His next letter to me was filled with thanks for this simple-but-effective receiver. As in my case when I had a radio at Jericho, Geoffrey's cell mates were also able to be entertained.
From Deliverance From Jericho (Six Years in a Blind School), here is an excerpt that shows how my little AM receiver changed things for me at that institution and helped me endure it.
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For the first time in my life, I owned my own radio. All the boys without receivers envied me. To have a transistor portable of one's own was a real status symbol. Instead of begging somebody to turn on their set, I could tune in the local rock stations anytime I desired. Now I had the privilege of entertaining others with my receiver.
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Deliverance from Jericho contains many more vignettes of what life was like in that government-run institution. These range from poignant experiences of homesickness to hilarious incidents of mischief. Click here to read more about this book and to order it. You may also e-mail me directly for more information.
Friday, 17 September 2010
WAS THIS A FORM OF SEXUAL ABUSE?
In recent years, the news media have exposed many egregious cases of sexual child abuse in residential schools and orphanages. Citizens rightfully felt shocked at these revelations of heinous acts perpetrated by adults upon innocent children who had absolutely no choice in the matter. In Some institutions, such as Jericho Hill School for the Deaf and Blind, even the children abused their younger dorm mates. When 350 deaf alumni and students sued the British Columbia government, Jericho was permanently closed.
We blind students were fortunate in that we could communicate with our parents, giving the perverts pause that they might be found out. Even so, we experienced a few disturbing incidents that might possibly be regarded as sexual abuse by today's public standards. From Deliverance From Jericho (Six Years in a Blind School), here's one instance which I witnessed in September of 1966. To paraphrase Fox News, I write -- you decide.
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Conditions in the dorm remained the same that autumn. Mrs. Parker was her usual domineering self. She demanded that I sleep in the little boys room again, and the food at the Dining Hall had not improved. In addition, we continued to lack privacy during the evening hours. For example, she periodically watched us bathe, ostensibly to prevent dawdling.
After supper one day, Mrs. Parker ordered everybody to shower as quickly as possible, instead of using the tubs. Because the single stall allowed for only one child at a time, we took turns. As we stood naked in the Tub Room, she positioned herself next to the stall and watched with the curtain drawn. Any boy who loitered was immediately chided.
When my turn came, I tried to wash my body as fast as Mrs. Parker demanded. As I did so, a stream of hot water hit my right pectoral in a sensitive spot. "Oh, my tit!" I exclaimed involuntarily.
"How dare you swear!" Mrs. Parker exploded. "Get out of here! Out! Go to your bedroom!" she ordered. I obeyed and stood, dripping and shivering, by my bed.
A minute later she called me back to the Tub Room door and gruffly handed me a towel. "Of course, you have to drip water all over the place. Why can't you use your head?" she complained.
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Deliverance from Jericho contains many more vignettes of what life was like in that government-run institution. These range from poignant experiences of homesickness to hilarious incidents of mischief. Click here to read more about this book and to order it. You may also e-mail me directly for more information.
Thursday, 9 September 2010
THE DICTATOR OF JERICHO
Throughout my childhood, I've known adults who, though strict about obedience, were fair-minded individuals. We had our disagreements but I sensed that these folks were basically decent.
On the other hand, I periodically encountered those grown-ups who cared only for their own power and enjoyed lording it over us. From Deliverance From Jericho (Six Years in a Blind School), here is an excerpt that proves how self-centred and petty some of our minders were.
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Our new supervisor further asserted her authority by organizing a neatness competition. Each of the three bedrooms were given names. One was called Red House, the second White House, and the third Blue House. The scores of neatness points were kept on a chart which Mrs. Parker mounted on the hallway wall. Each afternoon, she ordered everybody to sit for a half hour on the marble floor along both sides of the hallway. Our supervisor then paced back and forth like a drill sergeant, going over each of her self- imposed regulations in excruciating detail.
Mrs. Parker dispensed condemnation for infractions such as having wrinkles in our bed sheets or shoes not put away. She continually brow-beat any inattentive boys for letting their "house" down. This contest seemed to be a farce to me. I did not even try to be neat beyond what it took to keep from getting in trouble. Apart from a few sycophants, who our supervisor lavishly praised, I and most of the others hated this new system. I especially despised it because it cramped my freedom. The competition between "houses" was abandoned after a month. Doubtless, the strain of enforcing this unpopular contest took its toll on our supervisor.
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Deliverance from Jericho contains many more vignettes of what life was like in that government-run institution. These range from poignant experiences of homesickness to hilarious incidents of mischief. Click here to read more about this book and to order it. You may also e-mail me directly for more information.
Friday, 3 September 2010
R.I.P. CAROLYN
Why should death be such a shock to us when a beloved person or pet dies? We understand that it's an inevitable fact but people are still grief-stricken when it happens.
In my case, my bunny, Carolyn, passed away on the morning of August 28th. I knew something was wrong the night before when she refused to eat her pellets. She would usually hop ecstatically around her pen whenever I brought her food bowl into the living room. I set the bowl down and gently massaged her belly, hoping that it would jump-start her digestion. After a restless night, I force-fed her some Gas-X dissolved in warm water in the hope that I could relieve her intestinal pain.
As soon as the office opened, I called the vet. He picked up my ailing bunny on his way to work because I have no form of transportation. He phoned a few hours later with the bad news that Carolyn was already dead when he took her out of the carrier ten minutes after he arrived.
I believe that we have more than a physical aversion to the cessation of life. According to the Bible, we were created to live forever but because Adam and Eve sinned, they and their descendants were condemned to die. Along with humanity, the creation itself was subjected to decay. Whatever your beliefs are, it's still true that our natural instinct is to recoil from the dead.
All my friends and acquaintances know me as "that guy with the rabbits." These long-eared creatures so captivated my heart that I wrote When a Man Loves a Rabbit (Learning and Living With Bunnies), a memoir of my experiences with them as house pets. Please click here and read more about it as well as my Deliverance From Jericho (Six Years in a Blind School) paperback.
For the best information about house rabbits, please click here.
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