Growing Attitudes
A man’s curiosity won out as I waited for several mobility-cane users to enter the Services for the Visually Impaired (SVI) seminar. The man, just passing by, struck up a conversation with me.
“Hello. Nice dog,” the man commented. “Thanks,” I replied. “I walked right by one of them:” (He was referring to the people entering the seminar). “They said, ‘Hello’ to me. How did they know I was there?” he questioned.
My response was, “Your footsteps? Keys jiggling in your pocket? A sigh? The break in air current?”
“Oh. Nice dog.”
“Thanks:’
A surprising turnaround. The man felt invisible. Usually, invisibility is our response. We all want to count.
When the former Nebraska Commission for the Hearing Impaired was renamed the Nebraska Commission for the Deaf and Hard-of-Hearing, I perked up. Gramma was hard-of-hearing.
A friend prefers “deaf” to the euphemism, “hearing impaired.” “But,” I said, “we have to forget ‘deaf’ for a while because it was linked with the du- word for mute, which suggests stupidity.” She answered, “‘Deaf” belongs to doctors’ medical terms, so there is nothing wrong with me — just deaf.”
That helped me with “blind.” l checked to see if SVI had changed its title. Still too much stigma. I used to choke when I said “blind.” An orientation and mobility teacher said, “Accepting is naming.” Inside, I just know I cannot see what I am doing or where I am going. So I find another way. Like the wheelchair user who stresses the helpful tool rather than the difficulty, when making air reservations, I mention I am a dog guide user. I still prefer, “When I was a seeing person…. ”
Human nature insists we notice differences. New to town, I heard children say, “There’s that blind lady.” Lest it turn to taunt, I hailed them. Crossing the street, I introduced my dog guide, gave my name, then asked theirs. Next time, they called me by name. I became a person.
What is in a name? Not only what we say but the fear, anger, compassion, or embarrassment happening inside us. “If I had to live with that… “the honest inner monologue bursts out. Those living with a disability move beyond loss. Discovering what still works, we find plenty worthy of a joyful heart.
How does this relate to our churches? A church is about people connecting despite what appears to separate us. A church is an attitude-shaping place. In church, we recognize that, first, God sees us as acceptable persons with a given name. Here, when asking what’s in a name, we respond, “a whole and holy being:”
“So, how do I refer to you? Shall I say you are visually impaired, sight challenged, or blind?”‘
“Your choice, but call me Dee.”
A “Reading the Signs” column for The Record published with permission of the Nebraska Conference. Columns written by members of the Nebraska Conference Disabilities Ministries board are offered for use by Conference and Local Church newsletters as an accessibility tool.
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