Column: This Side of the Fence
I am blind in my left eye. Previous to this column’s printing, it has probably been my best-kept secret, but on the occasion when I do tell someone, their reactions are always about the same: “Really? Close your right eye. How many fingers do you see?” Somehow, I think Yes. I’m blind – meaning I can’t see anything out of that side. I admit it. So let’s skip the tests. There is no need to move right up close to my face, wave your hands or make me count fingers. I already told you I can’t see them. But, of course, please realize that just because I can’t see you, that doesn’t mean I don’t know you’re there. My other four senses work just fine.
It’s amazing the kind of things I hear from people about being blind. Most people don’t think it would be that bad, at least not if it was just in one eye. That’s probably true. I’m not in bad shape; there are perks. Due to the fact that my eyes don’t track correctly, I get all my textbooks on tape from the Disability Resource Center. I have gotten some very generous scholarships from the DRC as well. Plus, I always have an interesting fact to disclose at dinner parties.
These things are good and I am grateful for them. But having a disability is not about the perks. Disabilities require practice and patience because you have to work with them all the time, even on things you wouldn’t think mattered.
For example: cooking. Last Thursday, I was pulling a cookie sheet full of hot rolls out of the oven and, without realizing it, ran the pan right into my left arm. Honestly, I just didn’t see that the pan was getting close. I didn’t see it and I got burned.
But that could happen to anyone. I mean, who hasn’t burned themselves while cooking? Fine, but add this next scenario to it.
Also last week, I was trying to walk through a doorway and caught the edge of the door frame with left arm, creating a grapefruit-sized bruise and a large abrasion on the tissue directly up from my elbow.
By the end of the week, my arm was covered in battle wounds. Good thing it was Halloween weekend; nobody really thought much of my bandages.
These kinds of things are just the beginning. I can’t tell you the number of people I have cut off, ran into or ignored due to my lack of vision – and people get angry. I have been sworn at and yelled at. I never been hit, but have come close. Utahns can get some serious road rage.
Learning to ride a bike and, eventually, learning to drive a car, was a traumatic experience – and not just for me, but for my family as well. When I was a child and blindsiding people constantly, my mother followed in my wake, apologizing to all the folks I trampled over without realizing.
Most of these troubles have cleared up with practice, but, as you can see with my door and cookie sheet incidents, I still have issues I have to deal with on a daily basis and sometimes it’s hard.
Now do you wish you were blind?
Understand – I don’t want sympathy or pity or anything like it. I have never met anyone with a disability that does. I just wanted to create a little extra awareness. I have too many people tell me that it isn’t fair that disabled students are treated differently. They get money and access to things other students don’t get.
That’s true, they do get those things. But they also have to cope with things normal students wouldn’t have to and the problems I have mentioned are at the lower end of the scale, believe me. There are students at USU who are totally blind, deaf, in wheelchairs and have learning disabilities.
Not all of these students need assistance with their education. Many, if not most of them, could function perfectly well without aid. But is that really fair? The college provides math tutors for the math-challenged, the writing lab for the writing-challenged and a wide assortment of advisers and counselors for the purpose of aiding students and easing the burdens of college. Why should the assistance given to those with disabilities be considered any different?
Let’s cease to be ignorant. People with disabilities don’t want to be coddled or waited on. They just want to be treated fairly and get the extra help they need without feeling like a charity case or being accused of milking an unfair system. Everybody has challenges they could use a helping hand with, right – whether it be math, writing or otherwise? That’s makes us all the same and honestly, what could be more fair than that?
Mikaylie Kartchner is a junior majoring in print journalism. Comments can be sent to mikayliek@cc.usu.edu.