by Mike Godino
(Editor's Note: The report which is presented below serves several purposes. First of all, Mr. Godino wrote the report to present to members of the ACB of New York, concerning a trip he took with a number of teenagers to the NFB Center for the Blind. Godino says, "The members of our state affiliate needed to know just what goes on on these New York Commission for the Blind- sponsored field trips, so that we have a basis for taking any necessary action if the Commission attempts to use public monies to conduct similar excursions in the future."
ACB Executive Director Charlie Crawford and Mike Godino took copies of the report with them when they met with New York's Commissioner, Tom Robertson, on May 23. Robertson said he would take the information under advisement.
Discussions with the Commissioner were frank. At this writing, ACBNY still awaits a concrete response from the Commissioner.) The Report
While many ACB leaders were spending an energizing weekend at the Council's mid-year presidents' meeting in Houston, Tex., and others were checking out all the President's Day sales at the Wal- marts and K-Marts and shopping malls in their towns and cities, I was spending four days, along with 30 or so teenagers, cloistered at the NFB's Braille and Technology Center in Baltimore, Md., where the New York State Commission for the Blind had sent us to learn all we might need to know about the latest and greatest in assistive technology for people who are blind. Yes, here I was, after a lengthy drive down Highway 95 awaiting a long-anticipated rendezvous with my philosophical and technological destiny, Federation style.
How, you are probably asking, did this trip come to be, and why in the world had I asked -- chosen even -- to give up four days of my life to accompany a bunch of teenagers down the rather long pike to the fabled "Center for the Blind" on Johnson Street in Baltimore City? Let me explain.
Background
Over the Martin Luther King long weekend of 2001, the New York Commission had sponsored a similar trip for high school students. The purpose of that trip, according to a parent who had called the American Council of the Blind of New York (ACBNY) to actually complain about what had happened in Baltimore, was to inform blind and visually impaired kids about various technologies that could assist them. The parent had called to ask ACBNY why her child had to join the National Federation of the Blind to receive services from the New York State Commission for the Blind. Surprised by such a peculiar question, we wondered too. We decided to ask the Commission. I called the Director, Tom Robertson, and asked why our state agency was sending children from New York to the NFB center, and he responded that the NFB had assembled the world's largest and most encompassing technology lab available to people who are blind or visually impaired.
Having no way to investigate what might or might not have happened on that trip in January 2001, because the parent was afraid of retribution if she lodged a formal complaint, and having no way to actually investigate the claim about the Federation's access to more technology than anyone else in the world, I asked Robertson if ACBNY might send a representative on the next such trip to the Center on Johnson Street.
Robertson agreed. When January rolled around, I contacted the Commission and reminded them of their promise, and a few days later I got a letter, addressed to trip participants. The letter said, among other things, such as what kind of clothing to bring, and who the chaperones would be, "You will have the opportunity to see the latest computer equipment at NFB and actually use it firsthand. We will also be going to Washington, D.C. during this trip. You will definitely have an exciting time."
Day One
On the morning of the 19th, I made my way into Brooklyn to meet the bus. There were more students than I had anticipated. The bus arrived, we loaded and were off shortly after 9 a.m. The bus ride was long, and by the time we got to the center around 2:00, we were all starving. We dropped off our bags in a conference room and were directed to the cafeteria.
NFB President Marc Maurer welcomed us to the center while we ate our lunch. He addressed us as though we were in boot camp. He told us about the rules, the locked and alarmed doors, the curfew. He emphasized that the doorbell is turned off at night, and he told us about the $10 fine for any spills on the carpet. After outlining all of the rules, Maurer turned and walked out of the room.
After lunch, we convened in a conference room for our first afternoon session. Maurer sat at the head of a long conference table and began the meeting by calling roll. One staff member seemed to be missing. "We'll wait," Maurer said.
And we did. Carl Jacobson jumped up and began to page the missing Marianne, and the rest of us waited in silence until she arrived 10 minutes later.
The topic for the afternoon session seemed to be blindness. Maurer asked which of us seated in the room was blind. When no one volunteered an answer, he asked us each individually. Then he wanted to know what it meant to be blind. A couple of students replied rather tentatively, but Maurer explained that we really didn't know what it meant to be blind. Then he elaborated, at length, about definitions of legal blindness and usable vision and the fact that blindness is just a mere inconvenience, more of a problem for the rest of society than for blind people themselves.
Finally, having been educated about the true nature of our disability, we were separated into two groups for a tour of the fabled Center for the Blind. I did not know then that this would constitute just about my only opportunity to actually explore the center. Had I guessed, I might have paid more attention.
The tour guide for our group was Mrs. Chong. She told us about all the NFB scholarships and how NFB was making a difference for all blind people. Then we assembled in the Harbor Room for a talk by Mr. Cobb, who, we were given to understand, was the Director of Employment for the Federation. Cobb described the NFB scholarship program, and explained how the Commission could help us with our technology needs and the Federation could help with college expenses.
Then he said that if we preferred to go to work rather than to go to college, the NFB could also help via a collaborative program with the Marriott Corporation. "You're looking at about $7.50 to $8 an hour," he said, "and that's a good job."
When one of the students asked about the Statler Employment Program, Cobb said that it was not a good option, because the Statler hid blind people away down in the hotel laundry rooms. I was chuckling quietly to myself while Cobb described the "demeaning" jobs at the Statler. I happen to know a blind person who works in such a laundry facility. Even with his limited English proficiency, my acquaintance is making twice what Cobb indicated the Marriott trainees are making at their "good jobs."
Turned loose for the night, I began looking for ways to occupy my time. No outside media was available, either that first night or any other that we spent on Johnson Street. I was very glad that I had brought along the January "Braille Forum." That issue is one I probably read more thoroughly than any other in the history of my reading the Forum -- I read it from cover-to-cover, three times!
Day Two
Wednesday morning began with a start. I bolted upright out of my deep sleep to the sound of bagpipes blaring at top volume -- from where? I searched frantically for a knob to turn off the sound, but I discovered that the "music" was emerging from a speaker in my room. An alarm clock or a simple wake-up call would have worked fine for me, I mused. Hurriedly, I dressed and headed down to the cafeteria for breakfast.
After breakfast, we boarded buses and were off on our trip to Washington, D.C. The rest of the day was wonderful. As a matter of fact, it almost made the whole experience worthwhile. We toured the Capitol, where I thought the Rotunda and the "Whispering Room" were particularly fascinating.
We headed for the Smithsonian, but there we found that we had arrived too late for the hands-on tour of Air and Space. Disappointed, we went to a different museum where the kids were given a hands-on tour of an exhibit. Even though the exhibit was really geared for children who were younger than our teenagers, our kids were enthusiastic and excited. They had never participated in a hands-on experience at a museum before.
Back on the bus, we drove by the Washington Monument. None of the adults on the bus pointed this out to our kids, but the ones who could see thought it was great! Then the bus came to a stop. We sat, with the motor idling, for about 45 minutes.
"Where are we?" and "When are we going to get something to eat?" The teenagers were restless, but no one told them where we were and the question about when we might eat was answered curtly, "We'll get something when we get there," they were told. I, on the other hand, realized that we were at the Holiday Inn on Sixth Street, and that the adults were inside buying fudge.
Their cravings presumably satisfied, the adults returned to the bus and we headed toward Baltimore's Harbor for dinner. We could order anything we wanted off the menu, and the food and the dinner were wonderful. We had been promised an opportunity for shopping, but time ran out, and we had to forgo the shopping excursion.
Once we left the Harbor, we found ourselves stopped for another 45-minute wait -- this time it was one of those six-mile-long freight trains that caused our delay By the time we got back to the center, everyone on the bus was more than ready for a little personal space.
Thursday
The wake-up song on Thursday was not as abrasive as the one the morning before. In fact, I thought that the series of chuckle tunes were quite funny, and I got a good laugh. At breakfast, Mr. Maurer remarked that he had just almost spilled his cereal all over me. "Good thing you didn't," I replied, "That would have cost you $10."
Maurer was apparently not amused. He sat at my table and didn't say another word for the rest of the meal.
Another roll call began while staffers carried in armsful of white canes. Again someone was missing; again we waited.
The morning's topic was "Power:" how powerful the NFB is; how students could tap into this power if they decided to join. Then came the description of the scheduled events for the day. Maurer told us that he was disappointed about not being able to demonstrate his operation of the chain saw. Sadly, construction projects outside the building prevented him from doing so. But, he said, we would all be able to operate the radial arm saw in the basement. All, except for those who chose not to wear blindfolds. Of course, the choice about whether to wear the blindfolds was ours to make, he explained. But a person who had chosen not to wear the device would not be allowed to actually participate in any of the hands-on activities.
And there were lots of hands-on activities. The shop, with its assortment of tools, including the radial arm saw, the kitchen where we prepared our own pizzas -- I took part in all of it with my blindfold on, and I was pleasantly surprised that I did pretty well.
I did rather regret that most of the students (who were after all partially sighted) did not really have an opportunity to get a sense of the radial arm saw. Yes, they used it, but there was no opportunity to examine its size or its potential for causing harm, so many may not have actually realized the enormity of the task they performed. I thought the learning experience would have been more meaningful if the kids had had the chance to examine the saw, either visually or tactually, before they were handed the piece of lumber or shown how to turn on the switch.
Preparing the pizzas under blindfold was no "piece of cake." Most blind people experience their lessening and ultimate lack of vision over time, and many have been without sight for as long as two years before they are thrown into a situation like the one that confronted us in the NFB kitchen. This was the first instance of being totally blind some of us had ever really experienced, and it was surprising how well we managed. However, the situation wasn't representative of the way that most people who are totally blind first experience preparing food or working in a kitchen. The Gashell Encounter
After lunch, we assembled in a conference room, where Maurer once again talked about how meaningful it was to be a part of the NFB. There was another man sitting at the table next to him, but Maurer didn't introduce him for several minutes. Finally, Jim Gashell introduced himself and began telling us how Kenneth Jernigan had brought him into the NFB. Back in the 1960s, he told the kids, people had told him he couldn't do much because he was blind. Even the superintendent of the high school where he had graduated told him he should think about an "alternate" career, he continued. It was Jernigan who had convinced him that blindness was not really a handicap and had taught him how to put his best foot forward and achieve anything in life he wanted to achieve.
Gashell did not tell the kids that things have changed in the world since the 1960s, that there are laws like Section 504 of the Rehabilitation Act, the Americans with Disabilities Act, the Individuals with Disabilities Education Act -- all of which are there to guarantee people with disabilities opportunities, to level the playing field, and to outlaw discrimination. He didn't tell the kids about how discrimination against people who are blind is illegal or about how all the service providers and the superintendents of high schools nowadays, know about these laws. He told them how the NFB had helped him, and he told them that the NFB could help them as well.
Gashell said that we could help the NFB with their legislative advocacy efforts. It would be great, Gashell said, if the students who read braille could come on down to Washington and testify at a Congressional hearing. Braille readers, he said, make an especially good impression on legislators, since they can look in the direction of their audience while continuing to read.
Gashell continued that he did not want any of us who were partials and couldn't read braille up there in front of the senators. We were to stand there, canes in hand, and be quiet.
The final speaker for the day was a pretty effective fund-raiser for the Federation -- at least if she is to be believed, she raises lots of money with lots of very high-profile celebrities. She talked about how she had succeeded in persuading some pretty famous and powerful people to lend their names and their identities to the Federation. Among others, she mentioned Andre Boccelli, whom she was trying to persuade to participate in the next NFB NewsLine Day.
The kids were mesmerized. I was thinking that this name- dropping was pretty darned manipulative and might even be considered kind of coercive by a child psychologist or two I have encountered. And the fund-raiser? Oh, by the way, she also has a Ph.D. in psychology.
Dinner that night was another extravaganza. We were the guests of Mr. and Mrs. Curtis Chong; they took us out to another nice restaurant and we were allowed, once again, to order anything we wanted from the menu. A good thing about this trip was that we ate very well indeed, on our excursions away from the center.
Back at the center, I began looking for a TV in the hope of catching some of the Winter Olympics which I was missing. No TVs were to be found. Finally, I located a staff person who explained that the TVs were all put away so that we would be forced to talk with one another and prevented from engaging in outside distractions. Back to the January "Braille Forum" -- wasn't that a great issue!
Friday: The Journey Ends
Another goofy song came over the speaker in my room. Another breakfast, then we were assembled in the conference room. Another roll call. Finally, with everyone who was supposed to be there present, Maurer began to dial the speaker phone, to acquaint us with the NFB's JobLine. While he dialed the phone, he told us about the service which job-seekers can use to find jobs in their own cities or towns. He set up a profile and began to search for a job. He became annoyed when the students began to laugh after his fourth failure at matching his profile parameters with any available job.
So, he dialed up the NewsLine instead. He couldn't get through there, and finally he called the administrators in Salt Lake, who happened to be still sleeping. When he finally got through, he began to play with the server and to explain how it worked and how much better it was going to be the next week when it was expected to go national. We could sign up, we were told, once we had proved our legal blindness. And the Technology?
What about the technology? What about the best selection of assistive technology anywhere in the world? Well, here's what we saw.
We saw some A. I. Technologies and Sequoia accessible voting machines. They were cool. We have some accessible voting machines in New York too. We saw some computers with text-to-speech screen readers; we saw some braille embossers.
Out of the whole three days, 90 minutes were devoted to technology, and half of that time was taken up by the lecture which Curtis Chong gave on the subject of technologies that can assist people who are blind. Only four of our kids were totally blind. They found the braille embossers and the computers with screen-readers interesting, although not particularly novel.
The low-vision kids were shown some large print, but the type size was only 14-point, so most of us non-braille readers couldn't read the "large" print either. Most of the kids who were not totally blind gathered around the talking globe and the electronic (piano) keyboard that were on a table in the middle of the room.
When one of our kids asked Curtis Chong about what kinds of technologies could assist them with reading, he said that there weren't really many very efficient technologies. "Your best choice, he explained, "is still a biological interface."
What's that?, you're wondering. It's a reader. Hire yourself a reader, that's the best reading solution according to the guru at the world's best collection of assistive technologies for people who are blind.
So there you have it. After we cleaned our rooms for which the New York Commission was kind enough to give us a $50 shopping certificate as a reward, we boarded the bus for our long trip up 95 and back to the Empire State. Good-bye NFB Braille and Technology Center for the Blind. While there were some interesting and enjoyable parts of the trip and I was especially grateful to the New York Commission for funding my trip to Washington, D.C., I don't think I'll be going back to the NFB facility in Baltimore again.
Conclusions
Remember the original question about whether one has to be a member of NFB to get services from the New York Commission? Clearly there was no expressly stated requirement to that effect; however it is understandable from the above description how some might conclude that to be the case.
The representation that NFB has such an advanced and comprehensive technology center, the likes of which is completely unavailable in New York, and the exposure to which served as the basis for the expenditure of New York and federal tax money, cannot be supported by either evidence of comparable equipment which is not available in New York, or by a total of 90 minutes devoted to direct and indirect exposure to assistive technology -- out of a total of three days of opportunity.
It can be more than reasonably concluded from my firsthand observations that the trip served the primary purpose of a heavy introduction to the National Federation of the Blind, its philosophy, its programs, and its own private agenda; based upon the false pretext of exposure to technology which was, reportedly, unavailable anywhere else -- and all at the expense of the taxpayers.
The American Council of the Blind of New York therefore expects that our state agency for the blind will no longer financially or otherwise support evangelical trips to Federation headquarters and that the agency will seek to recover public funds expended under false pretenses and for private purposes outside the legitimate use of taxpayer money. Failure of the state agency to remedy what may well have been its unwitting participation in this mis-represented activity will result in ACBNY's seeking the necessary state and federal audits to rectify the situation.