Throughout my life, I’ve encountered people who have perceptions about me as a blind person—what I can, can’t, should or shouldn’t do. These perceptions can be frustrating, confusing and sometimes painful. I’ve had situations where I felt others were putting parameters on my life that didn’t make sense and weren’t in my best interest. Over the years, I’ve heard so many others share similar experiences, whether they are teens or older adults, in or out of the workforce, new to vision loss or visually impaired all or most of their lives.
We encounter these perceptions from strangers in our communities, service providers, caregivers and even from coworkers, family members and friends. Sometimes people will be overly protective or try to do things for us without asking or giving us the chance to do it ourselves. Or we aren’t given access to the same opportunities as our sighted friends, relatives or coworkers. We may be overlooked for a job or promotion or not invited into an activity, not based on our skills and talents but on assumptions about living with vision loss.
Those with these perceptions may not even be fully aware of what they are doing or saying. They are often trying to be helpful and do not intend to be unkind. But in many cases, people have gotten the message over the years that having a disability is somehow a bad thing, that it makes us less “whole” and reliant on someone’s charity. This messaging starts when we are little, continues throughout our lives, and is reinforced in many ways through the media and what influential people say about disabilities. The result is a society rife with biases, often unconscious, about vision loss and disabilities. We can even hold these biases against ourselves, believing that we are less worthy, less capable or even less lovable.
These biases sometimes carry over into the decisions made in our families, communities, businesses and public institutions. These unrecognized biases lead to barriers like poor lighting in apartment buildings and senior living facilities; inaccessible restaurant menus; health care and legal forms that can’t be completed by someone without sight; inaccessible websites; lack of public transportation; unsafe pedestrian access; and lack of funding for services like vision rehabilitation. These institutional barriers create even more limitations for those of us who are blind and low vision. We are left to figure out how to navigate these barriers. That means we have to put more energy than our sighted friends, family members, coworkers and neighbors into striving for the things we want.
What I’ve described is often referred to as ableism—a belief, whether conscious or not, that people with disabling conditions, including vision loss, are somehow inferior to non-disabled people. I often say that my world isn’t made smaller by my blindness, but rather by the barriers I face constantly in a world not built for people with vision loss.
Every day here at the Council, we work to break down ableism. We know that people with sight limitations still have inherent worth, and they matter as human beings deserving of equality and access.
When our Vision Services team teaches somebody a life skill, such as traveling with a white cane, using access technology to send an email, using a magnifier to see a photo of their grandchildren, or using adaptive kitchen tools to make dinner, old biases about our lack of capabilities are challenged.
When we award scholarships for postsecondary students and they arrive on campus ready to take on the world, they show us a way forward to greater access and equality by debunking assumptions and paving their own paths forward.
When we engage with the community at resource fairs and speaking engagements, we serve as role models of what we can achieve.
Our events, like Gallery Night and Birding by Ear, showcase the incredible talent, curiosity and human potential that we bring to our communities as blind and visually impaired individuals.
Through our public policy work, we consistently strive to break down systemic barriers around non-driver transportation and pedestrian safety, voting, and access to the digital world.
Thank you to the many generations of staff, board members, donors, volunteers, clients, store customers and community partners who have contributed in small and large ways—sometimes without even knowing you did something important—to the dismantling of the barriers of ableism and creation of a better world for people with vision loss. I am truly grateful.