How do blind people use iPhones?

One of the many, many reasons I decided to buy an iPhone two years ago was to support the idea of universal design: the iPhone 3GS was the first touch-screen device that blind people like me could take out of the box and use right away.  It comes with speech software called VoiceOver — built-in screen access for people who are blind. Miraculously, it allows blind people to interact using the touch-screen.

The iPhone 4 came on the market in 2010, just before I left town to train with Yellow Lab Harper. During training at the Seeing Eye I could hear phones murmuring text messages to the younger students in class while we were waiting in the lounge. Carlos regularly updated his Facebook status from his iPhone while we commuted in the Seeing Eye van together. He and Marcus would point their phones at their dogs from time to time to take photos, then manipulate their phones to send the photos home to loved ones.

My classmate snapped this photo of Harper on his iPhone and sent it to Mike.

Apple drastically reduced the price of the iPhone 3GS to $49 the very month I came home with Harper. I bought one, and after learning how to use it to make a phone call (in case of an emergency) I put off learning how to do anything else with it.

My two-year contract ends next month. I finally devoted time over the holiday break to climb the very steep VoiceOver learning curve so I can decide whether or not to renew.

The simplest way for you sighted iPhone users to understand how VoiceOver works is to give it a try yourself. Here’s how you turn VoiceOver on :

• go to Settings
• choose General
• choose Accessibility
• choose VoiceOver
• turn it on.

Still with me? Okay. Now press the home key. Slide your finger around the screen, and Voice Over will call out the icon you’ve touched. Don’t worry, it won’t select that icon, it will just call it out so you’ll know where you are on the screen. Hold the iPhone so that the earpiece is facing up, toward the ceiling. If you touch the left edge of the screen about an inch below the earpiece, you’re likely to land on the top left icon. VoiceOver will call out what that is. Flick one finger right to select the next one. If you flick your finger four times to the right , you’ll get to the first app on the second row of apps. If you come across an app you want to open, tap the screen twice, and…voila! Note: If you open an app BY MISTAKE, just press the Home button and you’ll return to the home screen.

Is your head spinning? Then you can imagine what a dither I was in the past two weeks learning how to listen to voice mail, Google, send and receive email using my iPhone. I can get into all that in a future blog post if you are really interested, but I’m guessing that all you sighted folks want to do right now is learn how to turn the #(@%! VoiceOver off. If you follow the bulleted directions above, below the heading at the top of the VoiceOver screen you’ll hear a button labeled “VoiceOver on.” Notice that VoiceOver gives you a hint out loud by saying, “Double-tap to toggle setting.” When you hear that, go ahead and Double-tap to turn VoiceOver off.

I reached a big goal over the weekend when, ta-da, I exchanged a series of text messages withmy sister Marilee. I’m OMW. TTYL!

A succession of extraordinary days

My foot is feeling better. If I’m allowed back in normal shoes after my doctor appointment this Wednesday, I’ll be so busy dancing I won’t have time to assess that list I posted here of all the things I’d accomplish during my 12-week convalescence. Better do it now.

Fingers crossed: A good visit with the doctor on Wednesday means I can retire these things.

• Read books. This was a joy. I thoroughly enjoyed In Zanesville by Jo Ann Beard and Ursula Under by Ingrid Hill, and I especially recommend The Year We Left Home by my friend Jean Thompson. I finished State of Wonder by Ann Patchett yesterday –fantastic! Today I’ll start Turn of Mind by Alice La Plante. I am friends with Alice’s little sister Lynn and sat with Lynn to hear her big sister give a presentation on this book at printers Row Lit Fest in June – am looking forward to getting lost in Turn of Mind now.
• Brush Harper. Another joy, for both of us. Even with my fiberglass cast on, we managed to hobble to the little city park next to our building for a daily grooming.
• Watch White Sox games on TV with Mike. Did that, but considering how things are going this particular baseball season, I prefer listening to Brewers games on WTMJ-Am. No one announces a game like Bob Uecker.
• Attend lectures. I only went to one, but I wonder. Does it count if I gave one?
• See a few plays. Again, we only saw Porgy and Bess. We had ideas about seeing Chinglish until I found out a lot of it was in Mandarin. Subtitles don’t work when you can’t see!
• Play fetch with Harper. Over and over. And over. And over. And over again.
• Check my blood sugar levels. Over and over. And over. And over. And over again. When I went to my endocrinologist the other day, the results from my A1C test was 5.9. (For you lucky ones who don’t have Type 1 diabetes…that’s a very good number!)
• Get more comfortable using my iPhone. Took a cab over to Guild for the Blind in Chicago for one-on-one tutoring from a volunteer last month. I’m making progress, but am still on the uphill side of the learning curve.
• Work up some jazz tunes on the piano.I have been playing piano more lately than before the break. Can’t say I’ve worked up any new tunes, though.
• Share stories with friends. As corny as this sounds, my friends carried me through my convalescence. Thank you, friends. Thank you.
• Practice my newly-repaired accordion. Mike has been amazing during my convalescence, too. To thank him, I’ve kept my accordion in its case.
• Publish blog posts. This took up the majority of my time with a foot in a cast. Supervisors at my part-time job at Easter Seals Headquarters allowed me to work remotely, so I continued writing and editing posts for their blog about autism from home. The Bark started something they called The Broken Foot Chronicles and published a number of posts I wrote about Harper’s disposition while I healed. And then there’s the posts I publish here. Thanks for reading them, loyal blog readers!
• Write a few books. Okay, that was a lofty goal. While my foot was still in a cast, though, I did manage to write a piece for a book National Geographic School Publishing is putting together. Maybe that counts?!

Today, August 28, happens to be Goethe’s birthday. Along with giving Chicago one of its best street names, Goethe also gave us this fabulous quote: “A man can stand anything except a succession of ordinary days.” When I found out my foot had been broken, I wondered if I’d be able to stand a summer of ordinary days. With the way things have turned out, though, I find myself wondering what the heck I was worried about.

Money, money, money, money

Back in 2009 I wrote a piece for the Chicago Tribune about how difficult it can be for people who are blind to keep track of U.S. currency. From the article:

180 countries use printed paper money, and the United States is the only one that prints bills all the same size and color, no matter how much each bill is worth.

A federal appeals court had ruled in 2008 that the U.S. currency system discriminates against blind people, but Henry M. Paulson, Jr., (the Treasury Secretary back then) had testified against the ruling. He said that people who are blind can function fine using credit cards or electronic scanners to identify different bills, and if that didn’t work they could rely on help from others.

Treasury Secretary Paulson did have a point. I’ve been blind for 25 years now, and in all that time I have never been shortchanged by a cashier. Even Chicago cab drivers — who have an undeserved reputation for being rude — have been honest with me, correcting me when I’ve made mistakes and tried to pay them too much. Still, I feel pretty stupid sometimes when a bill unfolds itself — or gets mangled up in my wallet — and I have to ask what money I’m carrying. So I was happy to find out this week that the U. S. Bureau of Engraving has developed a free app that people like me can use to increase accessibility to U.S. paper money. I was even happier still when Mike offered to download the EyeNote app onto my iPhone for me — I’m still crawling up the learning curve on using that thing!

I’m gaining ground, though — after a bit of a hitch at the start, Mike and I were able to get the EyeNote app working pretty quickly. The app is available as a free download at the Apple App Store. It runs without any special filters or background material, and you don’t have to have a data connection for the app to work. I double tapped on the EyeNote app, My iPhone read the directions out loud to me, I pulled a bill out of my wallet, pointed the iPhone camera lens at it, listened for the shutter to sound, waited a few seconds and…voila! A woman who sounds like she’s from Ireland called out the denomination! EyeNote was designed to work when the banknote is held in one hand and the mobile device is in the other hand — real life conditions. We played around with it, and it didn’t matter if I pointed the lens to the front or the back of the bill — I could even point it at an angle and that Irish woman inside the phone got it right. And if there comes a time I don’t want to hear her sweet little voice, I can go to “privacy mode.” Specially keyed vibrations/tones will identify the denomination for me. The U.S. government’s Money Factory site claims the EyePhone app is not in lieu-of any other accommodation they are considering, but in addition to other ideas.

It simply provides another option for the public which would preclude a user from having to carry a separate reader if they also own a compatible mobile device.

Recent studies say that over 100,000 people who are blind or visually impaired own Apple iPhones. The EyeNote app is one of a variety of measures the government is working on to help us keep track of our cash. A recent Federal Register notice says other measures include

• implementing a Currency Reader Program whereby a United States resident, who is blind or visually impaired, may obtain a coupon that can be applied toward the purchase of a device to denominate United States currency,
• continuing to add large high contrast numerals and different background colors to redesigned currency, and
• raised tactile features may be added to redesigned currency, which would provide users with a means of identifying each denomination via touch.

EyeNote will not be able to tell me if a bill is counterfeit, but the app will be updated to recognize when the design of U.S. paper money changes from time to time. The Bureau of Engraving says my EyeNote will work with the new $100 banknote after its introduction into circulation, so if any of you want to send one of those my way, let me know and I’ll give you my mailing address. I’d be happy to check that out.

Sturgeon Bay Snow Day

Harper didn't know what to make of the Jacuzzi.

While Harper and I were giving an evening presentation at Door County Community Center in Wisconsin last Tuesday night, it started snowing. The next morning, there was 15 inches of snow on the ground.

I tuned in to the local AM radio station and learned Door County has an army of 35 snow plows. Only one of them was assigned to Sturgeon Bay, where Harper and I were staying. “We’ll pass through all the major streets once today,” an official said during an interview with the radio host. “But if anyone especially needs a street plowed, call me at home.”

School was cancelled on Wednesday, and so were the three presentations we were scheduled to give that day. Harper and I were stuck in our hotel room. Ever seen the movie The Shining? Maybe if Jack Nicholson had brought a dog with him he wouldn’t have had such a rough time. Harper and I played endless rounds of fetch with his squeak toy, tinkered with the Voiceover feature on my new talking iPhone, listened to audio books, enjoyed warm baths in the Jacuzzi (well, I did, not Harper–though he was interested) and wandered outside now and then so Harper could pee – and play – in the snow.

A voice from behind the front desk called out a friendly hello during one of our lonely walks through the lobby. It was the hotel bookkeeper. “I live just down the street, so I could walk here,” she said. A cook had made it in, too, so the hotel restaurant would be open for lunch.

My friend Jenny is director of Women and Children’s Services at Ministry Door County Medical Center, and she’s the one who got the ball rolling for Harper and me to come “up north” to make all these presentations. Her husband Dennis owns a truck, so later that evening they plowed through the snow to rescue Harper and me and drive us to the only tavern open in the storm. Neighborhood Pub boasts a wall full of TV screens and was offering a Lenten Special Fish Fry that night. Leinenkugel makes a draft Pub Ale especially for Neighborhood Pub, and it paired well with the perch. By the time we left the pub, it was packed.

Jenny’s cell phone rang on the ride back to my hotel. A man named Ralph Bronner had come from Milwaukee to hear me speak that night. He’d booked a room at my hotel, and he was disappointed my event had been cancelled. Was I willing to meet him personally? I turned to Jenny’s husband Dennis. “As long as you guys come along,” I said. They agreed.

Ralph’s caretaker, a woman from Poland, had muscled their car through drifting snow to get to Door County. We joined Ralph and some of his friends in his room, and over a bottle of wine he regaled me with stories of his father.

If you came of age in the 60s and 70s, you must remember bathing with Dr. Bronner’s all-natural peppermint soap. Shampooing with it. Brushing your teeth with it, too. Even more fun than the soap’s peppermint tingle was reading all the quirky philosophical all-one-God beliefs Ralph Bronner’s father wrote on the label. That’s right: Ralph’s father was the Dr. Bronner who invented the formula for the famous soap.

From what I could gather, Dr. Bronner was more interested in his soap than his kids. Ralph grew up in 15 different orphanages and foster homes. Dr. Bronner was committed to an insane asylum in Milwaukee but escaped in 1947 and fled to California to start his soap company. “They didn’t think he was crazy there,” Ralph told me. Ralph and his brother eventually joined the soap company, and now it is run by Dr. Bronner’s grandsons. Dr. Bronner’s Magic Soap is still available in health food stores all over America, and the Bronner family is scrupulous about being an environmentally-friendly business. It gives employees generous bonuses and donates 70% of profits to charity. Over the years the Bronners have donated to arts programs in Door County. That’s how Ralph heard about my presentation, and that’s why he made the trip from Milwaukee to hear me speak.

We didn’t stay long in Ralph’s room. They needed to head out for dinner at, where else? Neighborhood Pub! Harper led me back to my room then for one last soak in the Jacuzzi. My trip to Door County may not have turned out the way I’d expected, but it sure was interesting. And here’s some good news: Jenny is going to try to work it out so Harper and I can return in the Fall to make up for the presentations that were cancelled. If Ralph Bronner makes the trip again, I’ll see to it that he gets a front row seat.

Don’t ask, don’t tell

That's me at Kipling. But is it Hanni or Harper?

Last year when I called the Seeing Eye to tell them I’d be returning to train with a new dog, I told them I wanted one who looked just like Hanni. They laughed, and I laughed along with them. But I was only half-joking.

Ever since Hanni and Beth: Safe & Sound came out in 2007, I’ve been enjoying traveling to schools and libraries with Hanni to talk with kids who’d enjoyed reading the book. Wouldn’t these kids be disappointed if I arrived without the star? I figured maybe, just maybe, if my new Seeing Eye dog even looked a teeny-tiny bit like Hanni, the kids would never know the difference.

When we apply for a dog, the Seeing Eye listens politely to our preferences—“I love German Shepherds” or “I’d really like another male” – but they make no promises. When it comes to matching us with our dogs, other more important qualities take priority. Harper was the dog in the November/December 2010 class who best matched my strength, size, walking speed, energy level, lifestyle and personality.

And lucky for me, Harper looks a lot like Hanni.

Harper and I took a train to Deerfield last Thursday to visit Kipling Elementary School. When Linda, the nice mom who met us at the train, opened her car door, she said, “Hanni can sit back here.” I didn’t tell her it wasn’t Hanni. The minute we walked into Kipling’s media center a chorus of second-graders squealed in delight. “There’s Hanni!” How could I disappoint them? I kept my mouth shut.

During my speech to the Kipling second-graders, I constantly referred to the dog at my feet as “my Seeing Eye dog.” I explained the three rules to keep in mind if you happen to see a guide dog with a harness on: don’t pet the dog, don’t feed the dog, and don’t call out the dog’s name.

“Those things can distract a Seeing Eye dog,” I told them. “It’d be like if someone nudged you or kept calling your name wile you were working on your spelling words at school. You wouldn’t be able to concentrate on your work.”

I suggested we come up with a fake name for my Seeing Eye dog. “We’re going to be around here for a while, and you might want to say hello if you see us in the hallway,” I said, explaining that iff they use my Seeing Eye dog’s fake name to say hello, the dog wouldn’ notice. “My Seeing Eye dog will think you’re talking to someone else!”

I asked the kids what their principal’s name was. Being the polite children they are, they gave me their principal’s formal name. “Does anyone know Mrs. Mosley’s first name?” A sweet little voice rang out. “I do! It’s Adrienne.”

Adrienne. A huge smile crossed my face. That could be Adrian, right? A girl’s name, or a boy’s name. “How about we call my Seeing Eye dog ‘Adrian’ today?” The kids ate it up.

During the Q&A part of the session, a student asked if Adrienne sleeps with me. It was a good question – it gave me a chance to explain that Seeing Eye dogs are not allowed on furniture. “Seeing Eye dogs usually sleep as close as they can to their owner,” I said. “Adrian lies right next to my bed. If I get up for a glass of water in the night I have to be careful so I don’t step on my dog.” Students asked whether Adrienne likes other dogs, does Adrienne ever slip on the ice, can Adrienne go on escalators. They wanted to know a lot about Adrian, but really, most of their questions had more to do with blindness: how do you shop, how do you eat, how do you cook.

“Can you use a cell phone?” one girl asked. I told her that most cell phones have a dot on the number five. “That helps me dial,” I said. The phone I use now is just a regular cell phone. It doesn’t talk or anything, so I have to memorize the phone numbers I use. “Did you ever lose a number?” another girl asked. She sounded very concerned. And somehow, even though I’d been lying about the Seeing Eye dog at my feet for this entire session, I couldn’t lie to this girl about my cell phone. “Yes,” I said. “Lots of times.” This gave me a chance to talk about the iPhone I am hoping to get soon. I sensed them creeping closer and closer to Adrian and me as I answered questions. They were intrigued.

The hour flew by, and we left the room to a chorus of cheers and goodbyes to Adrienne. We pulled it off, I thought. But on the way back to the train station with Linda my pride turned to horror. Harper had enjoyed a big bowl of water while we were at Kipling. He would have to pee before we got on the train.

I tried to distract Linda while Harper did his duty, asking her questions about her family, a recent wedding they’d been to, that sort of thing. I’m not sure if she was looking at me or at Harper as we talked, but she did get quiet all of a sudden.

iPhone, here I come

When I first heard that iPhones came with VoiceOver for the blind, I figured Apple must have done this just to get some good PR. I mean, come on. How could a blind person possibly use a touchpad?

Then I went to the Seeing Eye to train with Harper. All the young people (well, all the people under age 35, I guess) there used, you guessed it: iPhones. Their phones murmured text messages to them while we were waiting in the lounge. Carlos regularly updated his Facebook status while he and I commuted in the Seeing Eye van together. He and Marcus would point their phones at their dogs from time to time to take photos, then manipulate their phones to send the photos home to loved ones.

My classmate snapped this photo of Harper on his iPhone and sent it to Mike.

I worked on my knitting while we gathered for Seeing Eye lectures in the evenings. These iPhone kids spent that down time discussing their favorite apps. “Do you guys use Color Identifier?” They showed each other how to point the iPhone’s camera at things to hear it call out colors. The iPhone being the iPhone, of course, the color names were fun – and specific. “Crimson lipstick,” the robot’s voice would say. “Jukebox yellow.” “Moon Mist.“ I was intrigued. I wasn’t sold, however, until one of the students put the phone in my dirty little hands.

Marcus Engel and I were in the student lounge, killing time before it was our turn to do a route with our trainer. “Wanna try my iPhone,” he asked, placing the little gadget in my palm. “I’ll show you how to dial a number. Do you ever use ‘Tell Me’?” I do.

“Tell Me” is a service that yet another blind friend, the wonderful George Abbott, told me about in 2005. The White Sox were gearing up for the World Series back then, and I was having trouble keeping up with all the other teams in the running. You call 800-555-TELL for free and an automatic voice gives you the time, the weather, news and sports updates. Marcus was wise to choose “Tell Me” as a way to start me on the talking iPhone. I am so familiar with “Tell Me” that I felt comfortable giving it a try, and I knew what it should sound like if it worked. It was also reassuring to know that if I made a mistake it wouldn’t cost Marcus any money.

“Tap the screen to see where you are on the number pad,” Marcus said.” Double tap it if it’s the number you want.” I was expecting this to be a frustrating and time-consuming ordeal. To my amazement, I picked it up immediately. All I had to do was run my finger across the screen, and the voice called out “three!’” I moved my finger down. “Nine!” To the left. “Eight!” Tapped twice, and I was on my way. Spatial information. Imagine.

After I enterred all the numbers, Marcus told me to go to the bottom of the screen to push a button. I didn’t have to memorize special key commands to get there. I could just drag my finger to the bottom, and the iPhone called out the button when I found it. Tap twice, and the button was pressed.

Within 30 seconds, I’d connected to “Tell Me” and knew what the weather was supposed to be in Chicago that day. Warmer than in New jersey! Marcus brought up a web site next, explaining how I could swipe three fingers to scroll, hold down one location and tap another. There’s a learning curve to VoiceOver, he said. “But it’s so worth it.”

“There’s this cool rotor you activate by turning your fingers like a dial. You can double triple-finger tap to toggle speech, and a triple triple-finger tap…” Just then our trainer returned. Time to go out with our dogs. I welcomed the interruption. I’d learned enough. I was already sold.

Mike was thrilled to hear I’d finally come around to the iPhone – he’s been trying to get me to “go Mac” for years. The Apple store on Michigan Avenue here in Chicago has a full-time associate (they don’t like to call them salespeople) who is blind, and they offer regular classes to teach VoiceOver applications. Harper and I returned to Chicago on December 15. Best to wait until after the holiday rush before tackling the Apple Store.

The rush is over, and once we find some free time we’ll head to Michigan Avenue to make the big purchase. Only question now is…do I go with Verizon, or AT&T?

And the new guy’s name is …

Harper.

Like Harper Lee, who wrote one of Beth’s all-time favorite books, To Kill A Mockingbird.

Beth likes the name, and so do I. She’s not corresponding much because The Seeing Eye is keeping her way busy. But she did report that Harper doesn’t mind the rain one bit. That’s a good thing, because Hanni — despite her Lab lineage — absolutely hates the rain.

Say hello to Harper, or at least part of him. Thanks to Marcus for the photo.

One of Beth’s classmates — Marcus Engal, who’s a public speaker and writer himself – has an iPhone; apparently, the voice interface works really well and a lot of her classmates have iPhones, so who knows, maybe there’s one in Beth’s future. Anyway, this classmate took a stab at taking a picture of Harper. You’ll see it’s not maybe composed as well as we might like. It’s kinda’ hard to tell head from tail. But I think we can forgive the photographer, and you can tell that Harper looks a lot like Hanni, at least in his coloring.

Speaking of Hanni, she’s doing quite well, but the first couple days were a little trying. Luckily, I’ve seen it before. Years ago Beth visited our friend Sheelagh in Northern Ireland. Taking a guide dog overseas is problematic, so Beth left Hanni with me and made the trip accompanied by our friend Siobhan. They had a rollicking time from the get-go.

Meanwhile, for the first couple days Hanni moped, either lying near our condo door or near Beth’s office chair in hopes that her buddy would come home any minute. I was chopped liver.

But after Hanni figured out that I could serve the food as well as Beth, she started hanging next to me. We went for walks, she was off-duty, and she got petted lavishly. She played with other dogs, and their companions struck up dog conversations with me. So we bonded. At least until Beth got home, at which point I was again chopped liver.

It’s been like that this time, too. She was sullen at first (except for meal time), but she’s rallied, and we’re having a good time. She gets petted on every elevator trip or walk down the block. And I can tell she’s going to do just fine in her new life with our friends in Urbana.