EASY RULES FOR THEM -- HARD RULES FOR ME.

Throughout my life, there seems to have been two sets of rules that I encountered. The rigorous set applied to me and the lax set related to everybody else.

This seemed especially true in the autumn of 1964 after I received three wonderful presents for my eighth birthday. From Deliverance From Jericho (Six Years in a Blind School), here is what happened.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Added to my feelings of suffering injustice was the fact of other children not being punished for breaking my toys. My dad's brother Bill and his wife came to visit me one October afternoon. Miss Boyce ushered me into the waiting room, normally off limits to children, where my uncle and aunt sat.

After asking how I was doing, Uncle Bill gave me a white race car, a gas station, and a silver dollar for my upcoming birthday. As we chatted, Uncle Bill assembled the gas station. Then he presented it to me. I marvelled at its gas pumps and rows of toy automotive products. A cosy feeling, similar to being home, swept through my heart as my uncle and aunt encouraged me to play with the toys. Jericho faded into the background as I enjoyed being in the company of my relatives.

All too soon, my uncle and aunt hugged me, wishing me well. Sadness engulfed my heart as they walked out the front door. Christmas was still two months away, almost an eternity for a child on the verge of turning eight years old.

"I'll keep your dollar safe in the desk and you can ask for it next June when you go home," Miss Boyce promised. As I had no reason to disbelieve her, I meekly handed it over. "A whole dollar is a lot of money for a schoolboy you know," Miss Boyce explained.

My beautiful gas station did not last long. Piece by piece, it became progressively vandalized until my supervisor threw it in the garbage. The race car did not last either. I felt heartbroken that everybody was allowed to play with my toys and wreck them with impunity while I was severely punished for taking apart Charlie's space station.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

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.

WINNING MATTERS: THE TRUTH ABOUT SPORTS

John Cleese's favourite phrase from Monty Python's Flying Circus is, "Where's the pleasure in that?" I've asked the same about sports for decades. From the examples shown by supervisors, teachers, and my fellow dorm mates, I concluded that winning is what really counts. After all, that's why people keep score and viciously condemn anybody who makes a bad play. From Deliverance From Jericho (Six Years in a Blind School), here's how the authorities turned what should have been fun into drudgery.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Playing sports for hours at a stretch was another unpleasant change which I faced that autumn. Since blind children were unable to strike a baseball in the air, our teachers taught us to lay the bat on the ground and the ball was bowled to us. Other than that modification, and having children on base calling to the runner, the rules were the same. We used an old rusty backstop on the plain at the top of Jericho Hill but the field had no proper bases or lines to indicate where to run.

We also played football. I actually scored a touchdown once. Even so, my team lost, robbing the pleasure from my accomplishment. The rudeness of the game also seemed fundamentally wrong to me. Tackling and barging through lines of players was not what I considered fun. The gloating by the winning team also soured what little enjoyment I experienced of the game.

On rainy days, we played floor hockey in the breezeway. I hated that sport too. The captain of my team placed me in goal once. Though I tried my best, I was humiliated when Charlie kicked the ball past me. My teammates hurled angry comments at me as a result of his winning goal. Once again, I was reminded of what poor sportsmanship was by their example.

Mr. Cooper ordered us to lift weights as well. Everyone crowded into a tiny windowless room off of the breezeway and pumped iron a few times per week. Once one of my weights fell off, striking Larry on the top of his head. I felt extremely worried that my carelessness caused some serious damage but he suffered no lasting injury. My unlucky friend had already lost his sight and I did not want to make his health worse because I neglected to tighten the weight's screw properly. I repeatedly apologized to Larry and he magnanimously forgave me. I believe he realized that I felt genuine remorse regarding the accident.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

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.

"AND YOU TELL THE YOUNG PEOPLE OF TODAY THAT AND THEY WON'T BELIEVE YOU"

This punch line from the Monty Python's Flying Circus sketch entitled The Four Yorkshiremen certainly reminds me of many of my generation's experiences, though we really didn't have it that bad. The fact that parents buy their school-age children smart phones with more computing power and data storage capability than my first PC, a 386SX, still boggles my mind.

Today, people under 18 years old would sneer at my first telephone. It was a black rotary dial instrument which could only be connected to terminals in the wall by a qualified Alberta Government Telephones engineer. We had to wait at home all day for him to arrive too.

Having applied for Social Assistance in the autumn of 1974, I decided I now had enough money for my own phone. I attended a special high school in Edmonton where visually-impaired students could receive help with recorded book assignments and filling out test papers. Because my dad previously gave me just enough money for groceries and rent, I used a pay phone located a block from my room if I needed to call anybody.

I felt like a real grown-up as I began using my phone. No longer did I need to beg anybody's permission to call anyone anywhere or pay a dime a time while braving the elements for the privilege.

I soon discovered the down side of having a telephone. Strangers kept dialling my number to make appointments. Apparently, my number once belonged to a dentist who had moved or quit his practice. I'd eagerly dash over to the phone when it rang, pick up the receiver, expect to hear from my mom or somebody from my church, and I'd find myself explaining that Doctor So-and-so wasn't at this number anymore. Some callers actually became irate because I wasn't him.

As the telephone was government property that we only rented, I left the phone behind when I moved out of that cosy room in 1979. This alone must sound like something from the horse and buggy era to today's cell phone users. They can buy the model they like, set up a payment plan for their service, and use their phone anywhere. Even with corded phones, nobody has to wait all day for a government repair man to bring them an ugly black telephone and connect a few wires.

The house I bought in 2000 still has it's antique wall phone. While I can't use it to choose options in voice mail, it still works well when I talk to people. Unless I find a job that requires having a cell on my person at all times, I'll stay with my old faithful technology.

Speaking of faithful technology, I wrote When a Man Loves a Rabbit (Learning and Living With Bunnies) and Deliverance From Jericho (Six Years in a Blind School) using WordPerfect 5.1 for DOS. Click here to check out these paperbacks.

THE BENEFITS OF BRAILLE

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.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

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.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

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.

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.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

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.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

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.

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.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

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.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

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.

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.

-----------------------------------------------------------------
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.

-----------------------------------------------------------------
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.