STAYING THE COURSE, SHIFTING THE EMPHASIS:
                     THE BLIND IN THE 1990'S
                         by Gary Wunder

     From the Editor: Gary Wunder is the President of the
Missouri affiliate and a leader at every level of the National
Federation of the Blind. In November of 1993 he was the national
representative at the NFB of Ohio convention, and the banquet
address he delivered still has those who heard it thinking and
talking about it. Here is what he said: 

     This past weekend I had the good fortune to work with ninety
high school and college students who attended one of our seminars
to learn about the skills which would benefit them in their
education. The name of the event was Student Network, and it was
jointly hosted by Missouri's state agency, Rehabilitation
Services for the Blind, and the National Federation of the Blind
of Missouri. In general terms, they pay; we present--a nice
arrangement, and one which they encourage.
     The reactions we get from students are almost uniformly
positive. They are quick to say they appreciate our time; think
our speaking is at least passible, if not entertaining; are
encouraged by our accomplishments; and say they would attend the
next Network should we decide to have one. Interspersed with this
praise, however, are statements like the following: We would like
to hear more from students; we spend too much time listening to
old people. Sometimes I think the presenters are too rigid; it is
as though they think they know all the answers. I wish you'd talk
more about problems and how you solved them and less about
philosophy and life. Then there is the all-important request:
"Tell us more about how we can get our own Braille 'n Speaks and
computers."
     Since we ask for the evaluations in an attempt to improve
our program, we have to wrestle with ways to keep the good while
incorporating the criticisms in something positive. The
difficulty we face is one which buffets us everyday as
Federationists, workers, parents, and members of American
society. How can we convey the meaningful values which have made
us what we are, while at the same time recognizing the changes
that have taken place between the past we describe and the
present we occupy as we speak? In more concrete terms, how do we
stress the importance of old-fashioned educational values without
telling that worn-out story about walking seven miles to school
each day in snow up to our hips?
     All of this preamble leads me to what I want to talk about
tonight--the changes which have occurred in recent decades for
blind people, the ways in which we have brought about these
changes, and our current role in this new reality. Even though
our history reveals a change in emphasis from decade to decade,
never have we lost the vision which brings continuity to it all:
our vision of a world in which the blind are treated as normal,
capable people who simply do not see, a vision of a world in
which every blind person can have a job, a family, and a valued
place in his or her community. 
     When we began our movement over fifty years ago, our first
task was to establish a means of subsistence-level support for
the blind. Most blind people in 1940 lived with family members
and had no means of self-support. As long as their care and
support were the responsibility of relatives, they would continue
to be treated like children and would likely regard themselves as
inferiors, lesser beings whose thoughts and opinions were of
little significance. Our work then was to provide a monthly state
payment for the blind, and this we were successful in securing.
     After a minimal income was provided by law, our next job was
to see that blind people got training. Not only was it necessary
to learn the skills of blindness that would allow for independent
travel and self-care, but additional academic and job skill
training would be required if the blind were to secure
employment. At first the training we received was minimal and
rarely adequate, but each year saw new victories, and hope grew
as the blind of that generation witnessed the changes.
     Once we had won the right to an education and some training,
our emphasis shifted once again, and we turned our attention
toward changing the attitudes of a skeptical public who simply
did not believe the blind could work and make a contribution to
society. In the fifties you will remember our struggles with the
Civil Service, our demand that we be given the right to take
tests, our demand that our test scores be posted, our demand that
we be interviewed when our test scores were competitive, and
finally our demand that we be hired when we were the most
qualified candidates available. Through this lengthy and at times
frustrating process, we continued to do what we had always done
for one another--reminding ourselves that we truly were competent
human beings. At times we had our doubts, for few were those who
believed as we did. Each day we hoped and dreamed, sharing with
our blind cohorts our little triumphs and defeats, clinging to
the progress of each of our brothers and sisters as proof of the
rightness of our belief in ourselves.
     Throughout the sixties and seventies we did much in the
legislatures of the land to provide basic civil rights protection
for the blind. White Cane laws soon declared that blind people
could travel where we wished with our canes and our dog guides.
Landlords could not deny us a place to live or charge us more to
live in their establishments. Public transportation systems were
not only obliged to permit us to ride but were compelled to make
reasonable accommodations for us such as announcing stops and
giving us the name of the route the bus was traveling.
Restaurants were ordered to seat and serve us without regard to
our use of a dog guide, and even insurance companies were
compelled to review their policies regarding the sale of
insurance to the blind, being required to justify any higher rate
by statistically demonstrating that we were a greater risk than
others. This, of course, they could not do.
     Having made substantial gains in securing basic civil rights
protection, our emphasis gradually shifted, and the seventies and
eighties witnessed landmark legislation designed to assure that
we would be considered for jobs in the public sector without
regard to our blindness. Many of us found work as a result of
amendments to the Federal Vocational Rehabilitation Act of 1973
and some state laws which were similar in intent.
     We found, of course, that legislation was not enough. A
major portion of our energy and funding was given to enforcing
the laws we had introduced and passed, and reports of successful
court challenges were a major staple in our annual presidential
reports, our banquet speeches, and our governmental affairs
activities.
     In the nineties there is little I have mentioned that cannot
still be found in the work we do. We continue to press for a
guaranteed and adequate income for the blind, for quality
affordable housing, and for the special programs which teach the
skills and attitudes required to function independently as blind
people. We still take problems which the blind of the nation
bring, and these often result in administrative challenges,
arbitration hearings, and court battles. You will have noticed,
however, that, as our message becomes ever more widely accepted
and our legal protection more firmly secured by precedent, these
issues appear with some less frequency than they did in the past.
     What then is our major task to fulfill in the 1990's? I
believe it is to strengthen the confidence our brothers and
sisters have in themselves so that they are able and willing to
risk the possibility of failure on the chance of success. We must
deepen the faith we have come to feel in one another so that it
extends beyond faith in our power as a body and fills those areas
of our lives where doubt or contentment with the status quo now
resides.
     Let me turn for a moment from this abstract discussion of
the challenges which face us to share with you a few specific
examples which concern me, because of what they illustrate in the
way of changes we must address. I have been a member of the
Federation for twenty years, and in that time have listened to
and worked on behalf of many people who have had grievances
against the education and rehabilitation establishments. Often in
my early years the conflicts came about because the
rehabilitation counselor simply didn't believe that a blind
person could do what the client insisted he had the right to try.
Often there were elements of custodial treatment which also
aggravated the situation, and in most instances the blind people
pressing their cases were supremely qualified to do what they
wanted to do. This didn't mean that winning was easy or that the
victories were always everything we wanted, but it did mean that
every advance brought us that much closer to enjoying true
equality with the sighted.
     In the last few years I have seen a change in the kinds of
issues brought to us for resolution. Let me give you two examples
I find disturbing.
     Jim is a man who would like to get his Ph.D. in educational
administration and work as a high school principal or
superintendent. He came to us when it appeared he would be denied
admission to graduate school. He was interested in discussing
with me the problems blind people have when taking tests
administered by the Educational Testing Service. When tests are
administered under nonstandard conditions such as with the use of
readers or Braille or the provision of additional time, the ETS
sends with a blind person's test score a letter noting that it
cannot say with certainty just what the score means. Our concern
about this disclaimer is that it may be used to diminish the
learning indicated by our scores. Jim asked that I note our long-
standing objections to this attachment in a letter he might use
before the graduate admissions board, and this I did.
     When Jim came to me several weeks later to ask that we hire
an attorney to help him sue the university for its denial of his
request to enter the graduate program, I did a little research so
that I would have a better understanding of his case and could
decide how we should be involved.
     In denying Jim admission to its degree program, the school
gave four reasons: (1) his high school and undergraduate grades
were too poor for admission, (2) his grades while in graduate
school on a trial basis were mediocre, (3) he did not have
teaching experience, and (4) his Graduate Record Exam scores were
far too low. The school argued that it had tried to be flexible
in evaluating Jim as a candidate for a degree and that it had
tried to take into account the special problems which might be
faced by people who are blind. It argued that it had admitted Jim
provisionally, without first requiring him to take the GRE; that
it had overlooked his lack of work experience in the field; and
that it had been willing to put aside Jim's poor performance in
high school and college and was prepared to judge him on his work
in graduate school. The school further argued that it had
attempted to accommodate Jim in taking the GRE, that initially
accommodation had been refused, and that later it had been
accepted and provided. In short, the school argued that it could
have overlooked any one of Jim's shortcomings and admitted him,
but that the cumulative record simply went beyond reasonable
accommodation.
     Jim argued that his high school and college grades were poor
because at the time he was sighted and did not take school as
seriously as he would have had he been blind. He said his lack of
job experience should be obvious, for blind people just could not
find employment in the public schools. With regard to his GRE
scores, Jim argued that he was disadvantaged the first time he
took the test by the failure of those who administered it to
provide him with accommodation--a reader. His second score, he
said, was not a reflection of his true ability specifically
because of his accommodation--a reader. Jim said that he was not
accustomed to taking tests with readers and that this should
invalidate his score. In short, the school should understand that
he was a blind man and abandon trying to give him the test
altogether since there was obviously no good way to measure what
he knew.
     After talking with Jim and members of the department which
rejected him, I suggested that his lack of the skills of
blindness played a real role in his lack of success and that we
could help. He had argued that discrimination caused by blindness
kept him from getting teaching experience. I gave him the name of
Tom Ley, a math teacher in Louisiana, and Fred Schroeder, a
former teacher and the current Director of the New Mexico
Commission for the Blind. I discussed with him the possibility of
getting training at a center; learning to use readers,
magnifiers, and Braille; requesting mobility training; and
brushing up on academic skills to improve his test scores and
overall performance in school. 
     In the end, Jim had no interest in anything I said and made
it clear that he was angered by what he viewed as interference.
Jim hotly told me that he was interested in information
pertaining to discriminatory treatment by the Educational Testing
Service and nothing more. Blindness meant all requirements and
standards should be waived. The law was on his side, and he'd use
that law with or without us. Never mind the test scores, the
grades, the experience, or the skill deficits. He wasn't
interested in any of it. The test scores were indicative of
nothing. The value of having experience as a teacher before
becoming a school administrator was not important either. He
wanted what he wanted, and if blindness provided an avenue to
further his complaint, then that's the road he would travel.
Forget the training that would make him truly competitive and
equal. That would take too long. What he wanted was admission to
school, and he wanted it now and without unsolicited
interference. He had defined our role, and now we should function
within the boundaries he had set. We refused to take part, but he
persists.
     About this same time I was contacted by a woman I will call
Ardith. Ardith said that she was a writer of plays and movies and
that she had been working on her productions since 1987. She
wanted our help because she needed a loan for word-processing
equipment. She said she had requested the equipment from
Missouri's Rehabilitation Services for the Blind without results.
She complained about being thwarted by the bureaucracy, about the
rehab establishment's lack of faith in the blind, and about the
way in which these poor excuses for public servants were robbing
the world of good entertainment and robbing her of a lucrative
livelihood.
     Now I've been a Federationist long enough to know when it's
my turn to come on stage, so recognizing my cue, I began
encouraging her and planning how I would present her case to the
Director of Rehab Services. Just as a precaution--being a middle-
aged rather than a very young and inexperienced Federationist--I
asked if I might see something she had written. I said that,
while I was no authority on what was or was not a good play, I
knew one person who would be glad to review her work for me and
share with both of us her opinion of its worth. Ardith's response
was slow in coming, but eventually she said, "Well, maybe I could
show you something, but I wouldn't want you or anyone else to
steal it, so I'll have to get it copyrighted first. Okay?"  Then
she said that I'd have to overlook any misspellings, problems
with grammar, and mistakes in typing. That, of course, was
because she didn't have a word processor. Then I asked the really
tough question: has anyone expressed an interest in your work,
offered you any money, or performed one of your plays? I asked it
with a bit more tact than I've shown here, but the answer was an
insulted "no," as though that really didn't matter.
     Again I did some research, still prepared to get my exercise
by beating on Rehab if I needed to, but thinking at this point
that a little caution might be in order. I learned that Ardith's
relationship with Rehab was a long-standing one and that her case
had been closed following her pronouncement that her counselor
should go straight to hell. Okay, Ardith might lack something in
tact, but how could a Federation leader be upset by someone
spirited enough to tell off Rehab? Then I discovered that
Ardith's request for a word processor had been greeted with
enthusiasm, the counselor having feared that there was nothing
Ardith was interested in pursuing.
     Knowing that Ardith had no word processing skills, and
feeling that something besides Ardith's declared intention to be
a writer should appear in the file as justification, the
counselor presented Ardith with two options, either of which
Rehab would fund. One option was to go for a one-month evaluation
at a rehab center where Ardith could use many different kinds of
adaptive equipment and choose which device best suited her. The
evaluation could also be used to determine her aptitude as a
writer, and the recommendations of the rehab staff and Ardith's
own preferences would result in the purchase of a talking word
processor. The second option for Ardith was to enroll for a
semester as a student at the university near her home. She could
take an English class and use the equipment in the Student
Services labs; and at the end of the semester, provided she
passed, the equipment she wanted would be delivered.
     When I called Ardith to talk with her about what I'd been
told, I fully expected to hear that the counselor had exaggerated
the offer she had actually made or that in presenting it she had
been rude or short or negative. Ardith, however, made no such
accusations. She confirmed, in fact, that these were the options
she had been given but said she found both totally unacceptable.
I asked her why, and she said she had no obligation to prove
herself to anybody. She further said she didn't have time to
waste going for a month to a center and thought she'd get very
little out of spending a semester in a university class. "You
have to understand," she said, "that I'm very busy here trying to
get out my made-for-television movie. I just don't have time to
screw with them. Now let's talk about a loan from the
Federation."
     All of you who are here tonight know how strongly we feel
about the need to serve the blind and to be advocates for those
in need. Our role in standing up for blind people and fighting
against the agencies is well known. For a long time, if someone
had asked me what the primary work of the Federation was, with
great enthusiasm I would have said it was to defend the blind
individual against the custodial, stingy, and patronizing
professionals who work with them. While from time to time we
certainly do find ourselves in these situations, today they are
the exception rather than the rule, and with ever-increasing
frequency we find the agencies and the organized blind working
together to create opportunities and change lives.
     What I want for myself and others who are blind is a chance
to compete. I want people to listen and discuss with us the
accommodations we need, but I don't expect them to throw away the
standards they use in determining what it takes to do the job
competitively. If their job descriptions say "must be able to
read," rather than "must be able to understand written material,"
then we ought to be ready for a fight. If a training program
denies a blind person access because they say he cannot draw flow
charts, even though he can write an efficient computer program,
then we ought to champion his case.
     Our task in the 90's is to get blind people to look not only
at the forces allied against us in the pursuit of a home, a job,
and a family, but to look at the opposite side of the coin and
recognize with equal attention those forces we have rallied in
support of our ambitions. When Dr. Jernigan presented his paper,
"Blindness: Handicap or Characteristic," he challenged us to look
upon blindness as only one of many characteristics that make us
what we are. He demonstrated that some characteristics are
positive, some negative, and others neutral, depending on what it
is we wish to do. If most of us had been given the choice, we
would not have elected to be blind; but given that we are, what
problems and possibilities does this characteristic present? 
     What group's members today in American society can receive a
monthly maintenance check while attending college with books and
tuition paid by the Government? What group can request and
receive special equipment simply by expressing the intention to
use it in pursuing employment? 
     Having won through the law so much of what we have sought,
we must now shift our emphasis from what society must do for us
to what we as blind people can do for ourselves. It is critical
that we understand what the organization we have created can and
cannot do for us. Organizations are well equipped to spotlight a
problem, to bring injustice to the attention of the public, and
to work collectively to remove the barriers that block whole
classes of people from full participation. We can march together,
united in our demand that the colleges and universities of
America let us in. We can mobilize the anger of the public in
fighting the injustice that exists when a qualified blind woman
is denied a place in the classroom. What we cannot do is
accompany her into her freshman composition class and ensure
through our collective action that she will do the work
competitively. We can articulate the injustice which exists when
a blind man is denied participation in his chosen field of study
because some administrator mistakenly believes the sciences to be
off-limits for the blind. What we cannot do is ensure that the
blind man seeking entrance to an electrical engineering program
will have developed the Braille skills that will enable him
efficiently to take notes, manipulate equations, and communicate
his answers to an anxious professor.
     Our challenge in this decade is to use the incomes we have
been provided to advance, and not merely to exist. We must take
advantage of the educational resources placed at our disposal,
not simply as a method of planning the way we will spend the next
four or five years, but as a means to provide our own support.
When we elect to attend a technical school or an institution of
higher learning, we must do so with the clear intention of
pursuing a career once the training is complete. 
     The agreement we make with our fellow Americans is not a
God-given right which we accept without obligation. By our
acceptance of training, we are agreeing to make the task of
finding a job our first priority, meaning that we will not place
so many artificial restrictions and conditions on our prospective
employment that we never find a job we think we want to do. How
many unemployed sighted people can argue that they turned down a
$15,000-a-year job because it would require a move? How many out-
of-work sighted people could turn down a $25,000 job because they
felt it just wasn't worth the trouble? How many sighted people
without a job could turn down work because commuting took an hour
each way and just didn't seem worth the bother? I have personally
helped blind people find entry-level jobs, only to have them tell
me they rejected the job offer because they didn't have time to
start at the bottom. Where do they believe most people make their
entry into the work force? But, of course, this question really
misses the point because the real issue is not inconvenience or
even economics, but confidence.
     As an organization we can do much when those who oppose us
tell us no; but when we reach the point where society says yes,
it must be the individual who goes forth to take advantage of the
rights we have secured. Can he proceed in the knowledge that
others have gone before? Can she work to win a degree, confident
that we will stand by her should she encounter discrimination
when she looks for her first job? Can the blind graduate move to
another town, knowing that he is one of many who have dared to
live independently, the protection of family and friends being
hundreds of miles distant? The answer to these questions is yes,
but the choice to risk must be made by the individual, and only
through the positive choices of individuals can we remain strong.
     Having said all of this, am I making the case that the world
is now an easy place in which to be blind and that the only
barriers standing between us and first-class citizenship are
issues of individual choice? No. As long as there are more
sighted people than blind ones in the world, we will have special
problems with which we must cope, and we will always have need of
our organization to solve problems requiring collective action.
Am I saying that everyone here is capable, if he or she decides
to do so, of going out of this room and getting an education and
a job? No, I am not, for nothing I can say will undo the scarring
some of us have endured, and no matter how hard it is to admit,
for some of us it is too late.
     Our job as Federationists is to do many things for many
different people, and no one prescription will serve us all in
this task. Some Federationists desperately need our honest
assessment of their strengths and weaknesses. Some Federationists
need our encouragement as they undertake this painful assessment
themselves. Some Federationists deserve our understanding of
where they have been and of the life experiences which have
placed them where they are. All Federationists, ladies and
gentlemen, can benefit from two things we can give in abundance:
love and hope. These two ingredients have bound us together for
more than fifty years, and they will continue to unify and
strengthen us through the 90's and through the many decades to
come. As we celebrate our past and embrace our future, let us
rededicate ourselves this evening to the work which has brought
us to this place. When we do, there is no force on earth which
can stand against us. 
     I would like to leave you with a thought from Ralph Waldo
Emerson which I find both inspirational and instructive: "There
is a time in every man's education when he arrives at the
conviction that envy is ignorance; that imitation is suicide;
that he must take himself for better or worse as his portion;
that though the wise universe is full of good, no kernel of
nourishing corn can come to him but through his toil bestowed on
that plot of ground which is given him to till. The power which
resides in him is new in nature, and none but he knows what that
is which he can do, nor does he know until he has tried."