Cell Phones for the Blind

 

That's Jenny with Hanni and me at The Bookstore in Glen Ellyn.

 

I’m heading to Geneva, IL today to do a presentation at a preschool, then speak at the Geneva Public Library. Geneva is about an hour west of Chicago – Hanni and I will take a commuter train there. My friend Jenny from The Bookstore in Glen Ellyn, IL will bring books to sell after my library presentation, then she’ll take me back to the train station (after stopping somewhere to visit over a glass of wine/beer, of course!).

Anyone living in the 21st century would figure that all these arrangements would require me to own a cell phone. I do. But I rarely use it. I know how to make a phone call with my cell phone, but without being able to see the screen, I only call people with phone numbers I know by heart. I don’t leave my phone on when I’m out an about with Hanni – I need to concentrate on her, I can’t be distracted by phone calls. I use my phone to collect voice messages that I listen to later, and I call 1-800-555-TELL (that’s the “Tell Me” number) when I’m out and about and need to know a baseball score. Other than that, my cell phone lies dormant.

I’ve heard of three companies, Code Factory, Dolphin, and Nuance that have products to make some high-end cell phones fully accessible. If I used a cell phone with this specialized software, I could attach headphones to my phone and listen to music, read text messages, even surf the web on my phone.

Gee, I’d be just like everyone else on the commuter train to the suburbs!

One problem, though. Price. The special software for these phones can cost around $300 or more. I’ve also heard of a screenless cell phone made especially for the blind. Without a screen, there is more room to make the buttons distinguishable from each other.

Supposedly all of the functions on this Owasys phone talk. something tickles me about having a cell phone without a screen – what a novelty!

For now, though, I’m happy to pack my regular cell phone and leave it off for the train ride to Geneva. Instead of text messaging and calling my friends on the hourlong ride, I plan on listening to a book. Maybe talking to the conductor. And definitely petting Hanni.

Is it Scary Being Blind?

 

The day of my visit to Walker's Grove Elementary in Plainfield, Ill., happened to be "Weird Hair Day." Now that's scary.

 

The initial questions during our presentation at Walker’s Grove Elementary in Plainfield, IL yesterday were about how old Hanni is, what kind of dog she is, does she ever get a bath, that sort of thing. But then a third grade boy got up his courage to ask the one question he’d been wondering about the whole time. “Is it scary being blind?”

I get that question a lot during my presentations to children. Adults rarely ask me that, though. Hmm. Maybe they’re afraid to!

I think it’s scarier for people to watch me being blind than it is just being me. I’m not really afraid walking around downtown Chicago with Hanni, for example. I’m focused, that’s for sure. and yes, I’m careful. And okay, I’ll admit: sometimes I’m even a little nervous. But my heart doesn’t pound, I don’t fear for our lives. With Hanni, I’m confident. I know we’ll make it. Part of the reason for that, of course, is that she and I were so well trained at the Seeing Eye.

Here’s an excerpt about that training from my memoir, Long Time, No See. A couple things you’ll need to know to understand this excerpt: Robert is the man who trained Hanni and me. Dora was my first Seeing Eye dog, a beautiful Black Lab who worked until she was 12 years old.

Over the years, Dora had become so slow that I was unconsciously pushing her along rather than letting her pull me. Hanni didn’t like this. It confused her—she was supposed to pull me, and I wasn’t letting her. Robert tightened Hanni’s harness in a way that made it difficult for me to lift it and push, and on our routes through Morristown he kept a close eye on me, scolding and coaching me to keep the harness where it belonged. It reminded me of piano lessons, teachers struggling to rid me of the bad technique I’d developed after years of playing on my own.
I didn’t fight Robert, and I wasn’t defensive. I knew that getting the harness placement right again was key to my success with Hanni. After a few days it was easy to hold the harness correctly: Any time I did, Hanni flew. We skated down the sidewalks of Morristown, narrowly avoiding parking meters, garbage cans and telephone poles. “I don’t have any fingernails left!” Robert laughed after following us on one solo trip.

Hanni is eight-and-a-half years old now, and she doesn’t always zip along quite as fast as she did back then. But if the weather is cool, and Hanni’s spirits are high, we still have days we leave some Chicagoans “eating our dirt.” You’ll know them if you see them – they’re the ones without fingernails.

You Put Braille into a Blind Kid’s Hands

Those of you who have a copy of Hanni And Beth: Safe & Sound on your bookshelf should pat yourself on the back. Not only do you recognize literary genius when you see it, but your purchase is helping create more Braille books for children.

Blue Marlin Publications donates a portion of the proceeds from sales of Safe & Sound to Seedlings Braille Books for Children, a small non-profit organization in Michigan providing high quality, low cost Braille books for children. Safe & Sound hasn’t been out a year yet, and already Blue Marlin Publications has donated TWO THOUSAND DOLLARS to Seedlings.

A little known fact about Braille: fewer than 20% of the 50,000 blind children in the United States are proficient in Braille. All too often, the “written word” has been inaccessible to kids who are blind. They listen to audio books instead, or hear words from a computer screen equipped with a screen reader. Technology is cool, but how will these children ever learn to spell correctly? How will they know where to put commas, quotation marks, paragraph breaks and so on? By producing Braille books for children, Seedlings helps promote “literacy for the blind,” providing visually impaired children equal opportunity to develop a love of reading. Safe & Sound is one of the books available in Braille from Seedlings, which means I’ve been able to read parts of the book aloud at the presentations I’ve been doing since last October.

To find out how to order a copy of Hanni and Beth: Safe & Sound in Braille, or to donate to Seedlings to help them create more books in Braille for kids, link to www.seedlings.org. Every ten dollar donation makes another Braille book possible.

But wait! There’s more! This week you’ll have yet another way to help Seedlings Braille Books for Children. This Saturday, September 20, 2008 is Macy’s <Shop for a Cause day. Here’s how it works: you purchase a $5 shopping pass from Seedlings ahead of time and use the card to “Shop for a Cause” at any Macy’s nationwide on September 20. Seedlings retains all proceeds from the sale of shopping passes, and you get special discounts — everyone who buys a shopping pass will be entitled to receive 20% off regular, sale and clearance prices in apparel, accessories, jewelry and housewares and 10% off regular, sale and clearance furniture, mattresses & rugs (some exclusions do apply). Remember, though: the shopping pass you get from Seedlings can only be used on Saturday, September 20, 2008.

Seedlings Braille Books for Children is dedicated to providing high quality, low-cost Braille books for blind children. Thanks to you, they’ve placed hundreds of new Braille books into the waiting hands of children who read by touch.

To purchase a Macy’s shopping pass for $5 each, call Julie or Dawn at Seedlings: 734-427-8552 or 800-777-8552. You may also send a check or money order to Seedlings at 14151 Farmington Road, Livonia, MI 48154.
Include your name, address, and phone number, and a Macy’s shopping pass will be mailed directly to you.

Hanni the Diamond Dog

 

Gus, Hanni and I--in front of the Hank Aaron statue outside Miller Park in Milwaukee.

 

Gus is always happy to be at a ball game--especially on his birthday.

 

 

 

A fourth grader raised his hand Friday and asked,” What happens when you go to Wrigley Field?” We were at Emma Melzer Elementary School, doing the “q&a” part of our presentation. Meltzer School is in Morton Grove, a northern suburb of Chicago. Like most north-siders, the principal -and many of the students – at Melzer are Cub fans. And sometimes Cub fans can’t imagine going to any other park than Wrigley. “You mean, how does Hanni get me to a baseball game?” I asked. After all, I told them, Hanni has been to five different major league parks with me. And as it happened, Mike, Hanni and I were leaving the next morning for Wisconsin – it was our son Gus’ birthday, and we were taking him to a Milwaukee Brewers game.

At all the parks Hanni and I have gone to together (Seattle, St. Louis, Milwaukee plus Wrigley and US Cellular in Chicago) we’ve traveled “sighted guide” – a method you might remember from reading my My Date with Billy Balducci post.

“But a lot of times the people I’m there with are all men,” I said. “So Hanni guides me through the women’s bathroom by herself.” They laughed and laughed at that one. It was a killer!

The question about Wrigley gave me an opportunity to talk about something serious, too. The only time Hanni ever went with me to a game at Wrigley Field, the man taking tickets said he didn’t know if the dog was allowed. I pointed to Hanni’s harness, told him she was a Seeing Eye dog. He sent me to a different gate. The man at the second gate wasn’t sure. He’d have to get a supervisor.

Turns out that a week earlier someone had brought their puppy to Wrigley, claiming the dog was a service dog. The dog misbehaved, and fans sitting nearby complained. After that, the people working the gates were told to scrutinize anyone coming in with a service dog.

“The guy who brought the dog in with them was pretending he had a disability, just so his dog could come along,” I told the kids. “And that’s not right.” I didn’t have to explain ADA law, or how long the Seeing Eye and other pioneering guide dog schools had worked to get access legislation passed, or what backlash means. The kids understood. And they agreed with me. “

That’s not nice!” one of the kindergartners in front said. She sounded troubled. That’s when I remembered. I hadn’t finished the story. The supervisor finally said we could go in, I assured them. “It just wasn’t right to make Hanni and me wait while everyone else got to walk right in.”

They agreed. After all, we might have missed batting practice. And everyone knows, duh, that batting practice is your best chance to get autographs. Or catch a baseball!