Blindness is not what defines me, but it certainly influences who I am and how I experience the world, as well – I’m sure – as how the world experiences me. Though being blind does not stop me from doing most things sighted people can, it does mean that often I have to find other, more creative ways of doing them. As a female in my late twenties, living in the heart of one of the most beautiful and progressive cities in the country, with an insatiable appetite for travel and adventure and a brand-new guidedog, I am continually met with this challenge in an endless variety of ways throughout my day to day life. I decided to start this blog as a way of getting more perspective on and making better sense of my experiences. After reaching a major transition point – a shift from always having a strong sense of what I want and where I am headed, to then receiving my Masters degree and suddenly no longer having any idea of how to proceed in life – I have a strong desire for some new form of inspiration and guidance. So, I am hoping that writing will help me to clarify a sense of purpose and direction in my much more uncertain, post academic life.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
New York, New York - November 22, 2010
Did that really just happen? Did that man really just try to take a blind girl’s sunglasses, and did that woman really just go out of her way to see if they were mine and help me get them back? It definitely did, and well, that is just one of the reasons I love Manhattan, ‘cause things happen here, and you just take the good with the bad.
So, on my first venture out on my first day back in the city in over a year, I manage to unknowingly knock my sunglasses out of my pocket during the half block from the apartment to
While waiting at the corner to cross, a woman walking with a bunch of school kids asked if I had lost my sunglasses. A quick pat of my pockets confirmed it, and she said, “I think that man working back there has them. I found them on the ground and asked if they were his. He said they were, all casually, but after I handed them to him and walked away, I realized they were probably a woman’s glasses because they were like mine. Here, let me take you back there to get them.”
She had her aide take all fifteen or so children over to the park while she escorted me back to the workman and asked him to give me back my glasses. He nicely enough got them from his truck and handed them to me with an apology. Whether it was seeing a girl with a guidedog and no sunglasses that led the woman to think they might be mine, I can only guess, but that is one stereotype I’m really OK with since I need the protection, and it means I got my expensive-ass sunglasses back.
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