THE BRAILLE MONITOR



                     Barbara Pierce, Editor


     Published in inkprint, Braille, on talking-book disc, 
                        and cassette by 


              THE NATIONAL FEDERATION OF THE BLIND 
                     MARC MAURER, PRESIDENT 
 


                         National Office
                       1800 Johnson Street
                   Baltimore, Maryland 21230 

                             * * * *



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        subscription requests, orders for NFB literature,
       articles for the Monitor, and letters to the Editor
             should be sent to the National Office. 

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Monitor subscriptions cost the Federation about twenty-five 
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made payable to National Federation of the Blind and sent to: 
 

                National Federation of the Blind
                       1800 Johnson Street
                   Baltimore, Maryland 21230 

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THE NATIONAL FEDERATION OF THE BLIND IS NOT AN ORGANIZATION
SPEAKING FOR THE BLIND--IT IS THE BLIND SPEAKING FOR THEMSELVES



ISSN 0006-8829THE BRAILLE MONITOR
A PUBLICATION OF THE NATIONAL FEDERATION OF THE BLIND

                            CONTENTS

                                                   DECEMBER, 1993

BRINGING HOME THE CHRISTMAS TREE
by Marc Maurer

CONVENTION 1994: MAKE PLANS FOR THE BIGGEST AND BEST
by Kenneth Jernigan

MICHIGAN CALLS IN '94

FAIR LABOR STANDARDS: FACT OR FICTION FOR BLIND WORKERS IN THE
SHELTERED SHOPS
by James Gashel

BLIND MANAGEMENT, BLIND WORKERS, AND SUCCESS IN THE WORKSHOP
by Joe Cordova

SUCCESS IN ORGANIZING SHELTERED WORKSHOPS
by Richard Edlund

A GUARANTEED MINIMUM WAGE FOR MORE THAN FIFTEEN YEARS, AND
PRODUCTIVITY REMAINS HIGH
by Fred Puente

FAIR LABOR STANDARDS: ARE BLIND PEOPLE BENEFICIARIES OR VICTIMS?
QUESTIONS OF PHILOSOPHY
by Donald Ellisburg

FAIR LABOR STANDARDS: A CONCEPT FOR ALL, INCLUDING THE BLIND
by Austin Murphy

THE DETECTABLE WARNINGS DEBATE CONTINUES

THE WASHINGTONIAN MAGAZINE GETS IT RIGHT

JUST PLAIN BIZARRE
by Larry Streeter

LEARNING TO TEACH
by Kathy Kannenberg

PBS GETS LOW MARKS FOR ACCURACY

THE UNIFIED BRAILLE CODE: SOME MYTHS AND REALITIES
by John Jackson, Darleen Bogart, and Hilda Caton

UP, UP, AND AWAY
by David Hyde

MEETING WITH JUDY HEUMANN
by Kenneth Jernigan

RECIPES

MONITOR MINIATURES

     Copyright National Federation of the Blind, Inc., 1993
[2 LEAD PHOTOS: 1) Decorated Christmas tree in reception area at
the National Center for the Blind, 2) Harbor Room at the National
Center for the blind (with mantel and walls decorated for
Christmas). CAPTION: Each December finds the National Center for
the Blind decorated for the holiday season. A Christams tree with
festive packages tucked beneath it graces the reception area of
our fourth-floor offices, and the mantel above the fireplace in
the Harbor Room is draped with evergreens. In short, it is the
season to be jolly, to love one another, and to wish everyone a
blessed holiday season and a happy New Year.]


                BRINGING HOME THE CHRISTMAS TREE
                         by Marc Maurer

     From the Editor: The most recent addition to the National
Federation of the Blind's Kernel Series of paperback books is
titled Making Hay. The following Christmas recollection, written
by President Maurer, appears as one of the selections in the
book. It seemed particularly fitting to include it as part of the
month's Monitor. It comes with our sincere wishes that every
reader may have a joyous holiday season and that together we can
work for equality and justice for all blind people in the year to
come. Here is the excerpt from Making Hay, beginning with Dr.
Jernigan's introductory note:
     Marc Maurer is a husband and a father. He is an attorney. He
is also blind. He is a man of determination, sensitivity,
integrity, and hope. I am glad he is all of these things, for he
is also President of the National Federation of the Blind. To a
great extent the well-being of future generations of blind people
depends upon the National Federation of the Blind and the
personal qualities of its leadership. With Marc Maurer leading
the organization I am content to have it so. Read "Bringing Home
the Christmas Tree," and I think you'll agree with me.

     Christmas was for me the most wonderful holiday of the year
when I was a boy. There were many small surprises and much
happiness.
     Thanksgiving was memorable because I was able to come home
from the school for the blind which I attended for the first five
years of grade school, to be with my family. There was always an
enormous basket of fresh fruit as well as a huge bowl of nuts to
be cracked and eaten. But the best part about Thanksgiving was
that it signified the beginning of the Christmas season. Before
Thanksgiving, it was simply autumn. After Thanksgiving, Christmas
was on its way.
     My Christmas problem was to find a way to obtain suitable
gifts for my family and friends. My allowance--the weekly grant
from my father--just was not large enough to meet all of the
demands. When I was small, it was a nickel. By the time I had
reached high school, it had grown to the grand sum of a dollar. 
     When I was in the ninth grade (or maybe it was the tenth), I
persuaded the newspaper to put me on as the only blind paper boy
in town. Every morning--all three hundred sixty-five days of the
year--I rose at five o'clock to collect my papers, deliver them,
and walk home. The distance covered in the round trip was a
little over two miles.
     I liked the walk--especially in the midst of a snow storm.
When the wind was blowing, and the snow was falling, I felt
humble. It seemed to me that God was reminding us that He had
created the world and everything in it.
     The paper route brought in a little extra money--as I
remember it, between four and five dollars a week. The increase
in my financial well-being seemed dramatic.
     During the summers I could mow lawns or do other odd jobs.
One time I was hired at a dollar an hour to roof a garage. The
work was completed in twenty-nine hours. But these summertime
activities didn't help at Christmas.
     It was all right to begin thinking about Christmas the day
after Thanksgiving. However, planning for the most important
holiday of the year before the season arrived was out of the
question. In my hometown Christmas decorations were hung in the
streets before Thanksgiving, but our family ignored them until
the proper time. 
     The Christmas season was special and had to be saved until
using it was appropriate. This meant that I could not purchase
Christmas presents before Thanksgiving. Therefore, I had
available only those resources which could be mustered between
Thanksgiving and Christmas. Sometimes the money ran out.
Nevertheless, gifts must be procured. But buying them was not
essential. They could be manufactured, and sometimes they were. 
     One year I fashioned a wooden rifle for one of my brothers.
Another time I baked homemade Christmas rolls for a friend around
the corner. Bread making was a skill I acquired early. And I was
not the only one in my family who turned lovingly to handicrafts
for the Christmas season. One of my most treasured Christmas
presents was a handmade wooden desk designed and built by my
father. I used it for almost ten years.
     Part of the delight of the Christmas season was that many
unusual things occurred. Visiting neighbors, friends, and
relatives came unexpectedly; mysterious packages arrived with
contents that must remain secret until the great day; plates of
goodies were presented that had been made in a kitchen whose
customs were not the same as our own. The cookies and cakes were
not the same as the familiar standbys I had come to know so well,
and some of them were extraordinarily good. 
     I was the second of six children and the only member of the
family who was blind. My sister and my four brothers attended
school in our hometown. From the time I was six years old until I
was eleven, I attended the school for the blind. At Christmas for
two weeks--or a little more--we who were students would say
goodbye to the routine at this residential school. 
     The wake-up bell rang at 6:30 in the morning. By 6:55 we
were expected to be dressed, our faces washed and teeth brushed.
At that time we lined up to march from the dormitory to the
dining hall for breakfast. Breakfast began at 7:00 and lasted
half an hour. Between 7:30 and 8:00 we were expected to clean our
rooms and make our beds. My roommate and I divided up the
cleaning chores. I dusted the furniture while he dusted the
floor. Classes began at 8:00 and continued until noon. We marched
in line to lunch, which also lasted half an hour. 
     After lunch we were free to play on the playground for a few
minutes. Classes in the afternoon started at 1:00 and finished at
4:00. One period each day was devoted to gym class. After the
4:00 adjournment of classes we were free to play until we marched
to the dining hall at 5:25. After supper there was an hour of
mandatory study hall. Then for an hour we could read or play or
do as we pleased. By 8:30 all students were supposed to be in
their rooms, and at 8:45 the bell rang for lights out. 
     Two nights a week at the school for the blind there were
special events. On Wednesdays and Saturdays we were expected to
bathe, and (before bath time) we were permitted to go to the
basement of the dormitory for "snack bar." This was the name for
the student-run store. At the snack bar we could buy candy bars,
ice cream bars, and a limited selection of penny candy. A
prepackaged ice cream cone that had been dipped in chocolate and
nuts (we called it a drumstick) cost fifteen cents. I didn't have
fifteen cents very often, so my visits to the snack bar were
infrequent.
     On Saturday the schedule for meals was the same as it was
for the rest of the week, but after our rooms had been cleaned
and our shoes polished, the remainder of the day was free. On
Sunday we were expected to dress in our Sunday clothes, and we
were then sent to church.
     When the Christmas holidays came, all of this changed. At
home there was no scheduled time to wake up, no pre-set moment
for breakfast, no routine for dusting the furniture and making
the bed. Furthermore, there were family members to play with, and
there were the exciting and mysterious Christmas activities. In
the kitchen there were homemade cookies and candies. The aroma of
varnish and wood shavings emanated from my Dad's shop in the
basement. There were usually sewing and knitting projects that
had to be worked on late at night in order to be ready for
Christmas. 
     The days are short in December, and in the Midwest, where I
grew up, they are often snowy and cold. When school was out, we
would tramp the fields and woods around our town and find places
to use the toboggan that our parents gave us one Christmas. The
cold felt good, especially at the end of the day when we got home
to sit by the fire. And the pungent aromas of clove and cinnamon
that came drifting from the kitchen were a mouth-watering promise
of the cakes, pies, or cinnamon rolls that could be found there. 
     One Christmas I read a story about the Yule Log--the large
chunk of timber which in England is traditionally set ablaze on
Christmas Eve to initiate the celebration of the holiday. I
decided to cut such a log. With an old handsaw we found, I set
out to bring home the largest piece of a tree that would fit in
the fireplace. I measured the opening with a piece of stick and
marked the length by cutting a nick with the edge of my knife.
The saw was old and dull; the log was heavy, thick, and damp. It
seemed to me that the job of cutting it would take forever. When
the cut was finally complete, I hefted my prize and dragged it
home. I rolled it into the fireplace and stuffed as much kindling
around it as I could cram into the opening. Our Yule Log burned
for many hours and brought warmth and cheeriness to the hearth. 
     Then there was the Christmas tree. In our family we all went
together to get the tree. We would pile into the old 1954
Plymouth to go hunting in the Christmas tree lots for just the
right one. The various members of the family had different
objectives. Dad wanted the tree to be cheap--affordable, if you
want the polite word. Mom wanted it to be full and pretty. We
kids wanted it to be big. 
     When we arrived at the Christmas tree lot, the kids would
spread out in all directions, hunting through the trees. Every
few seconds somebody would yell that the perfect specimen had
been located. The whole family would come to admire it, and I
would be asked to examine it with my hands to see what I thought.
The spruce trees were my favorite, the ones with the little short
needles and the teeny little pine cones.
     When the best of the trees had been discovered, the price
negotiations began. This was my father's responsibility. A good
tree was one that had plenty of branches, no holes, a height of
at least nine feet, no bare spots, and a nice Christmas tree
shape. Such a tree was acceptable, but it could be made much
better if my father got a "deal." If the asking price for the
tree could be reduced by a third or a half, our Christmas tree
was one of the best. 
     We would climb back into the old Plymouth and lean out the
windows so Dad could hand us the prized possession. We would
drive home slowly, freezing our hands and ears, clutching tightly
to the tree, which we held pressed to the side of the car. With
four or five of us grasping the trunk, the branches of the tree
filled the windows on the driver's side of the car. It wasn't
easy to see on our side, so we honked the horn a lot at
intersections on the way home. 
     When we arrived home, it was my father's job to set up the
tree. Because of a number of disasters (I remember a particularly
unfortunate Christmas morning when the tree fell over in the
middle of a number of packages), it became the custom in our
house to anchor the tree with a cord to at least two separate
brackets on the wall.
     Then it was time to decorate. This was Mom's special area of
interest and talent. She directed all of us in the process and
added the finishing touches herself. When the balls were hung,
the tinsel meticulously arranged, and the lights lit, the tree
changed the living room from a nice place to be to the center of
enchantment. 
     As I remember the Christmases of my growing up years, it is
clear to me that my blindness was not a major ingredient.
Christmas memories remind me of home and of family members who
care for one another. Gentleness, admiration, hope, and faith--of
such as these are memorable Christmases made.
     I did not know, when I was a student at the school for the
blind, what my own life could bring. However, as I prepare for
Christmas this year, I am reminded of those joyful experiences of
long ago. I now have a family of my own. One of the important
ceremonies in our household is the procurement of the Christmas
tree.
     My son David (a third-grader) asked me to help him build a
Christmas present for his mom. Together we are cutting the wood
and fitting the pieces. The staining and finishing must be
accomplished before the festive day. The aroma of varnish will
mingle this year with the smells of cinnamon and chocolate as we
prepare for the giving of gifts. 
     Perhaps my joy in the season is even greater because there
were many times when I wondered if it would be available to me.
Can blind people have good jobs and raise families? These are
questions which come inevitably to the mind of a blind student
growing up. They demand answers, but information is scarce, and
sometimes the messages are discouraging.
     When I came to be a part of the National Federation of the
Blind in 1969, I met caring people who were willing to give me
the benefit of their knowledge and experience. I met those who
had hope and faith. I came to be a part of an organization of
individuals who cared for one another. 
     The responsiveness, the support, the warmth, and the caring
I found in the National Federation of the Blind are reminiscent
of the gentleness, the faith, and the hope I had come to
associate with the Christmas season. I have known the commitment
of the National Federation of the Blind for almost a quarter of a
century. In that time many thousands of blind people have been
given encouragement and support. Many Yule Logs have been cut,
and many trees decorated. A number of blind children have come to
be blind adults with children of their own. The blindness, which
might have prevented a full life, was not permitted to interfere.
The Christmases for those blind people have been warm, hearty,
hopeful celebrations. We are planning for many more.
[PHOTO: Skyline of downtown Detroit, Michigan (Detroit River in
foreground, city skyline in background). CAPTION: This city
skyline, viewed from the Detroit River, includes the Renaissance
Center at the right. The Westin Hotel, site of the 1994
convention of the National Federation of the Blind, is located in
this sprawling tower complex.]

                        CONVENTION 1994:
               MAKE PLANS FOR THE BIGGEST AND BEST
                       by Kenneth Jernigan

     The time has come to plan for the 1994 convention of the
National Federation of the Blind. As Federationists know, our
recent national conventions in New Orleans, Charlotte, and Dallas
have been record-breaking in every sense of the word--excellent
programs, good facilities, and wonderful hospitality. However,
Detroit in '94 promises to be the best we have ever had.
     We are going to the Westin Hotel at the Renaissance Center
in Detroit. You have to be there to believe it. The hotel is over
seventy stories high with a revolving restaurant at the top,
giving a view of Canada and adjacent areas in Michigan. Mrs.
Jernigan and I were there in late October to meet with Michigan
leaders and make plans; and as we walked through the extensive
facilities, I was repeatedly impressed and pleased. As one
example, at the third-floor level there are two huge outdoor
grassy lawns, totally almost 40,000 square feet. What a wonderful
spot for a Fourth of July evening outdoor picnic and barbecue--
high above the traffic and noise and immediately adjoining our
meeting rooms!
     As usual, our hotel rates are the envy of all who hear about
them. For the 1994 convention they are: singles, $38; doubles and
twins, $43; triples, $45; and quads, $48. In addition to the room
rates, there will be a tax, which at present is twelve percent.
There will be no charge for children in a room with parents as
long as no extra bed is required.
     In recent years we have sometimes taken hotel reservations
through the National Office, but for the 1994 convention you
should write directly to Westin Hotel, Renaissance Center,
Detroit, Michigan 48243, Attention: Reservations; or call (313)
568-8000. Westin has a national toll-free number, but do not (we
emphasize NOT) use it. Reservations made through this national
number will not be valid. They must be made directly with the
Westin in Detroit. The hotel will want a deposit of $45 or a
credit card number. If a credit card is used, the deposit will be
charged against your card immediately, just as would be the case
with a $45 check. If a reservation is cancelled prior to June 20,
1994, the entire amount of your deposit will be returned to you
by the hotel. Requests for refunds after June 20, 1994, will not
be honored.
     Here are the convention dates and schedule: Friday, July 1--
seminars for parents of blind children, blind job seekers,
vendors and merchants, and several other workshops and meetings.
Saturday, July 2--convention registration, first meeting of the
Resolutions Committee, some other committees, and some divisions.
Sunday, July 3--meeting of the Board of Directors (open to all),
division meetings, committee meetings, continuing registration.
Monday, July 4--opening general session, evening picnic and gala.
Tuesday, July 5--general sessions, tours. Wednesday, July 6--
general sessions, banquet. Thursday, July 7--general sessions,
adjournment.
     Remember that we need door prizes from state affiliates,
local chapters, and individuals. Prizes should be relatively
small in size and large in value. Cash is always popular. In any
case, we ask that no prize have a value of less than $25.
Drawings will be made steadily throughout the convention
sessions. As usual, the grand prize at the banquet will be
spectacular--worthy of the occasion and the host affiliate. The
1993 grand prize was a thousand dollars in cash. The 1994 grand
prize will be at least as good. Don't miss the fun! You may bring
door prizes with you or send them ahead of time to: Donald
Drapinski, 111 West Woodward Heights, Hazel Park, Michigan 48030;
phone: (313) 546-6910.
     The displays of new technology; the meetings of special
interest groups, committees, and divisions; the exciting tours
(more about them in this and later issues of the Monitor); the
hospitality and renewed friendships; the solid program items; and
the general exhilaration of being where the action is and where
the decisions are being made--all of these join together to call
the blind of the nation to the Westin Hotel at the Renaissance
Center in Detroit in July of 1994. Come and be part of it--and
for further information read the following article from the
Michigan affiliate for color and details.


[PHOTO: Entrance of Fox Theatre. CAPTION: The recently renovated
Fox Theatre in Detroit's theater district.]

                      MICHIGAN CALLS IN '94

     Welcome to Detroit, birthplace of the Motown music era and
host site of the 1994 convention of the National Federation of
the Blind. The National Federation of the Blind of Michigan is
proud and excited to have the convention returning to Detroit
after more than thirty years.
     Some of the outstanding events surrounding convention week
include the largest fireworks display in the country, held on the
Detroit river, which you can view from the comfort of your room
in the beautiful Westin Hotel, or from the riverfront with one
million other spectators. You will also be able to enjoy the
International Freedom Festival, as well as other weekend ethnic
festivals.
     The Westin Hotel is located in the spectacular Renaissance
Center, which includes ninety stores and eating establishments.
Cuisine includes everything from McDonald's to the Summit, an
extraordinary revolving restaurant on the 71st floor of the
hotel. The people mover station, within the Renaissance Center
complex, connects you to the famous Greektown, Harbortown, Grand
Circus Park, Cobo Hall, Joe Louis Arena, and other attractions of
the downtown area. Easily accessible by bus is Tiger Stadium, as
well as Fairlane Town Center, home of 220 stores and shops and
definitely the place to visit for those who like to "shop till
you drop."
     Detroit boasts the busiest international border crossing
between Canada and the United States. It is the only place in
North America that you travel south from the U.S. to get to
Canada. You can drive to Canada from Detroit via the one-mile
tunnel under the Detroit River, by the tunnel bus, or via the
Ambassador Bridge.
     Benefitting from the ethnic diversity in the Detroit Metro
area, you will find a wide variety of restaurants specializing in
Greek, Lebanese, German, Polish, Arabic, African-American,
Mexican, Chinese, Japanese, Italian, Vietnamese, and Thai
cuisines.
     The Detroit area also boasts corporate headquarters for such
corporations as Chrysler, General Motors, Ford, K-Mart, and
Unisys. Tours will include an auto plant, trips to Greenfield
Village, a Tiger baseball game, overnight trips to Toronto, a
trip to Cedar Point, and a cultural tour including the Motown
Museum, Museum of African American Affairs, Detroit Institute of
Arts, and the Science Center. Also featured will be dinner
cruises on the Detroit River and casino gambling just across the
river in beautiful Windsor, Canada. Frankenmuth, home of
Bronner's (the world's largest and most famous Christmas store),
Zehnder's, and Bavarian Inn restaurants famous for family style
chicken dinners will be on the tour agenda as well as the
Marketplace Mall, featuring over 200 outlet stores.
     For those looking for more entertainment, Detroit's theater
district includes the Fox Theater (recently renovated to its
original state), the GEM theater, Orchestra Hall, and the brand
new Second City Comedy Club.
     Make plans to attend the 1994 convention. We look forward to
being the host affiliate and promise you a wonderful time.



[PHOTO: James Gashel at podium microphone, reading Braille.
CAPTION: James Gashel.]

              FAIR LABOR STANDARDS: FACT OR FICTION
            FOR BLIND WORKERS IN THE SHELTERED SHOPS
                         by James Gashel

     From the Editor: The latter half of the Wednesday, July 7,
general session of the 1993 convention of the National Federation
of the Blind was devoted to a discussion of the need to extend
minimum wage protection to blind workers despite the protests of
some sheltered shop managers that they cannot afford to pay it.
James Gashel, Director of Governmental Affairs for the National
Federation of the Blind, moderated the discussion and introduced
the speakers. The following articles are the presentations of
several of those who took part in this presentation. Here is what
Jim Gashel began the discussion by saying: 

     The exemption from the minimum wage that is permitted in the
case of blind people is a policy that has long since crossed the
line from opportunity to exploitation. That policy is
wrong.[applause] We must begin this morning by saying that and
remembering it. The policy is wrong. It was premised on the
notion that employment opportunities would be decreased for
disabled people, including blind people, if employers were
required to pay them at least the federal minimum wage. So sub-
minimum wages have been authorized. However, there has never been
even the slightest bit of proof or research or information to
show that, in fact, employment opportunities would be curtailed
if the sub-minimum wage authority for blind people were to be
withdrawn tomorrow. At best, it is only a guess that employment
opportunities would, in fact, be curtailed--no proof, nothing
more, just a guess. That is what the whole sub-minimum wage
premise is based on, just a guess.
     What we have in the present law is really nothing more than
a double standard. For workers who are not blind, we say that
there is a floor under all wages. No one who is not blind or
disabled in this country will be paid less than the statutory
minimum. Employers must accept this as a matter of doing
business. They have to build this into their labor costs and
ultimately into the cost of goods sold. Consequently employers
have come to accept the minimum wage as one cost of doing
business. In one sense all American consumers helped to pay for
the fact that we have a minimum wage. Employers don't get into
extensive measurements to determine each individual worker's
productivity in order to decide whether he or she has earned the
minimum wage. They just pay it because it's the law. Not so in
the case of the blind, because here we have the double standard.
Each worker exempt from the minimum wage is supposed to be paid
in accordance with the worker's individual productivity,
individually determined by the employer. That's what the law
says. That's a pretty nice theory; but, if it's really such a
great theory, then why isn't everybody paid solely on the basis
of his or her productivity? Why don't we try the same theory out
on sighted people, not just blind people?
     Why should blind people be held to the strict productivity
standard just to earn the minimum wage when everybody else who
works in this country is entitled to the minimum wage because he
or she works, not because of a particular physical condition?
That's what this issue is all about. It's really about the double
standard.
     Here's an example of the effect of the double standard with
real people, real figures from a real workshop system in this
country, employing sighted as well as blind people. Such figures
are not easily obtainable because workshops really don't want to
report them, as you will see. The case in point involves
workshops operated by the State of Connecticut. Several years
ago, the last year for which figures such as these were
available, seventy-eight percent of all of the employees
(including management, non-labor, and direct-labor employees)
were blind. Sighted employees represented twenty-two percent of
the work force. If the distribution of jobs and pay were
equitable, then you would expect that approximately seventy-eight
percent of the pay and fringe benefits would be received by blind
employees because they represented seventy-eight percent of the
work force. You would expect that they would be randomly
dispersed throughout the industry work force. Not so. In this
case, only thirty-six percent of the pay and fringe benefits--not
seventy-eight percent but thirty-six percent--went to blind
employees, even though they represented seventy-eight percent of
the total work force. Likewise, sixty-four percent of the pay
went to sighted people even though they represented twenty-two
percent of the work force. 
     Now here is something else about the Connecticut workshops
to chew on. The average wage for direct labor workers (blind,
sighted, and sighted with other disabilities) was $4.09 an hour.
The minimum wage at the time of these figures was $3.35 an hour.
Surely blind employees on average, you would think, would be
earning at least the minimum wage or perhaps a little higher. The
average wage for blind employees in the Connecticut workshops,
however, was the princely sum of $2.04 an hour. It was less than
half of the wage paid to sighted employees. Most of the managers
and supervisors were sighted (twenty out of thirty-one, to be
exact). The average pay for the twenty sighted supervisors was
$8.25 an hour. The average pay for sighted direct-labor workers
without disabilities was $4.20 an hour. Need I remind you that
this compares to the average wage for blind direct-labor workers
of $2.04 an hour? 
     The figures tell the story. I can't do any better or any
worse than that. Congress has been told that the workshops must
exist to help blind people who really couldn't be employed were
it not for these special work settings. Most members of Congress
have probably never really thought about the matter too much, but
those who have probably have the impression that blind people
take home the lion's share of the pay and fringe benefits from
the workshops. That's just assumed. But we know the real story;
the figures tell the real story, which is that the economic
winners from the workshops are the sighted managers and
supervisors, not the blind workers.[applause]
     Why are they the real winners? Because of the labor of blind
workers and the double pay standard which exists under the law.
It is time to put an end to this double standard.[applause] Our
brothers and sisters who work in direct labor workshops are
victims of the double standard. But really all of us are victims,
because the double standard exists for blind workers, not because
they're unproductive, but because they are blind. To the extent
that one of us is diminished, all of us are diminished. To the
extent that one of us is exploited, all of us are exploited every
day and every hour.[applause] The exploitation will not end just
because we wish it would. Discrimination doesn't die on its own.
Those who are the victims of exploitation and discrimination, in
this case blind people, must rise up in a social movement and
force the issue to the point of change. This morning we are
beginning that process once again. In what we do and say here in
the next little while we are going to build a record, so let us
be clear on the goal--sub-standard jobs and sub-standard pay for
blind people, wherever we work, including sheltered workshops,
are intolerable! [applause] We call upon lawmakers and the public
at large to join us in stating that goal forcefully and taking
the actions which will turn it into a reality in our lives.
     To our blind brothers and sisters, the direct victims of low
pay and sub-standard jobs, we say this: your struggle is our
struggle. We will not forget you. Unfortunately, old practices
die hard. The decades of exploitation will not be erased in a
day, but we assure you they will be erased.[applause]
     For those in the workshops who are part of our movement, as
well as those who are not, we say: you must help lead the effort.
You must do so on behalf of all blind people. You can do this by
speaking out. Don't suffer in silence. Become part of us.
Challenge the system; remember that the National Federation of
the Blind is by your side and in your work place every day and
every hour that you work. We will help, but you must also help
yourselves by speaking out and by becoming an active part of our
movement. We are changing what it means to be blind in all
aspects of our society, and we fully intend to change what it
means to be blind in sheltered workshops as well as everywhere
else in our land. That is our commitment, and that is our pledge
to you.[applause]
     To the operators of sheltered workshops we say, "It is time
for change to come, and that change will come." Some of you have
recognized that fact and are here this morning. You have adopted
pay policies that are more enlightened than the law. Please share
your successful experiences with your colleagues, other managers
of workshops. Share them with the unconverted. 
     To the unconverted we say: "The days of using the law as a
shield for exploitation are already numbered. The day will come
when sub-minimum wages and the authority to pay them that you
have been exercising to the detriment of the blind will
absolutely be a thing of the past. We will make it so." That is
our commitment, and that is our pledge to you.
     To the responsible federal administrators and members of
Congress, some of whom are here today, we say this: "You are
experts in setting labor standards and in their enforcement. We
ask you to accept, as we do, the fact that the work situation for
the blind in any sheltered workshop in America is essentially the
same as the work situation for any sighted employee in factories
across our land. If there is any difference, it is far less
sophisticated management and far less automation. Consequently,
the wages for blind people are certainly lower. We ask you to
accept, as we do, the premise that, when a program holds itself
out to the public as being for the blind, it should really be for
the blind. That means blind people should take home the lion's
share of the pay and fringe benefits resulting from that
program."[applause] We are asking you to join with us in standing
up for pay equity and real jobs, good jobs for blind people in
sheltered workshops and in other sectors of the community. 
     Most immediately, we are asking you to join us in sending
the clear and unambiguous message to the operators of sheltered
workshops that the excuses of the past will not be acceptable in
the future. Blind people will no longer be second-class workers
because it will not be permitted by the law. That is our
commitment, and that is what we are asking of you.



[PHOTO: Joe Cordova standing at podium microphone, reading
Braille. CAPTION: Joe Cordova.]

                BLIND MANAGEMENT, BLIND WORKERS,
                   AND SUCCESS IN THE WORKSHOP
                         by Joe Cordova

     From the Editor: Joe Cordova is President of the National
Federation of the Blind of New Mexico. He is also the Manager of
the workshop program at the New Mexico Commission for the Blind.
Mr. Cordova is blind himself, and he knows firsthand how
important it is to build confidence in sheltered shop employees.
Here is what he had to say:

     When the New Mexico Commission for the Blind came into
existence in 1986, one of its first tasks was the complete
overhauling of the sheltered workshop, the New Mexico Industries
for the Blind, which was administered by the agency. In 1987 Fred
Schroeder, Director of the New Mexico Commission for the Blind,
asked me if I would be interested in coming to the Commission to
assist in the development of this newly created agency. 
     I had been working as a special assistant to the mayor, and
I had no formal background in rehabilitation other than having
been a former client myself. However, I thought this would
certainly be a great challenge and opportunity to make some
contribution to the rehab system. But when I learned that one of
the programs which Fred had in mind for me to administer was the
workshop, I seriously wondered what I could contribute to the
agency. I had no background in business, management,
manufacturing, or finance, those areas which are typically
thought of as important in the operation of a workshop. However,
Fred reassured me that, although these elements were certainly
involved in operating the workshop, they were not the essential
ingredients currently lacking. Leadership and a sense of purpose
and direction were missing. What was needed was someone who truly
believed in the abilities of blind people and could in turn
convince the blind workers to believe in themselves.
     We needed to get the workshop workers to raise their own
expectations of themselves as blind people to move on to better
employment where they could receive higher wages and have greater
opportunities for advancement. These were the real challenges. If
necessary, we could bring in business and financial experts to
assist us in these areas of the operation, and we have done so.
But without this basic belief in the abilities of blind people,
all else would have been meaningless.
     Prior to the Commission for the Blind the workshop
functioned as a traditional sheltered facility with a minimum
wage exemption and a work activity area often referred to as
adult day care for the blind. It operated on the premise that
once a blind person entered the shop, he or she was pretty much
there for life. There were blind people earning as little as
eighty cents an hour, and they were told that this was all they
were capable of earning. They, of course, believed this. We were
told by previous management that they had been unable to
guarantee workers payment of the federal minimum wage because the
shop would, in their words, "eventually go broke since, after
all, the blind workers were incapable of earning the minimum wage
by their productivity." But I'm here to tell you that ever since
1986, when the Commission took over the management of the shop,
every single blind worker has been guaranteed the federal minimum
wage. Today, seven years later, we are not anywhere near going
broke. In fact, we are prospering financially more than ever
before. 
     I would also like to point out that the federal minimum wage
has gone up twice since 1986, and each time we have upped our
wages right along with this increase. The way we look at it, if
minimum wage is good for the rest of the country, it ought to be
good enough for the blind. We did away with our work activity
area and integrated these workers into the regular shop. We do
not believe that having a separate segregated area such as a work
activity area, where blind people often become indefinitely
trapped in performing only the most menial tasks for a pittance,
is a viable way of rehabilitating blind people into employment.
If an individual is unable to perform the required job tasks
because of lacking the skills of blindness, that person then
would be more appropriately referred to our orientation center
for further training. If an individual is incapable of performing
the required tasks due to an additional disability that we are
unable to accommodate, that person will be referred to a more
appropriate community service. Otherwise, any blind person who
qualifies and is accepted into our industries program is expected
to work and produce at a level of performance comparable to the
standards which have been determined for that job task.
     Our experience has been that, if blind people are treated
with equal respect and dignity and are held to the same standards
and expectations as other employees, they will behave and perform
like other employees.[applause]    It is not surprising then
that, soon after the wages of the shop workers were increased,
their performance likewise increased. The production rate
increased significantly. Their attendance improved, and overall
morale was much higher.
     Another important change we made was in the area of
benefits. We thought that, if this was going to resemble real
work as much as possible, then the shop workers ought to have
what is typically expected in the normal work place. That
includes the full range of employee benefits. We learned that
previously the shop workers had not been paying into Social
Security because the rehab system had considered them clients of
the agency; and therefore their wages were considered rehab
stipends. We had shop workers that had been receiving rehab
stipends for twenty years! We told the state that the shop
workers were every bit as much state employees as any other state
employee. And we convinced the state personnel department to re-
classify the shop workers as regular state employees.[applause]
Today all the shop workers pay the Social Security tax. Again we
raised their wages to cover the cost of their portion of the
Social Security contributions. We later made them eligible for
regular state retirement. And again we upped their wages by an
amount equal to the cost of their portion of the retirement
benefits. We still haven't gone broke, and their production
continues to go up.
     Finally, we made the shop workers eligible for regular state
health insurance. Today every single shop worker receives the
same employee benefits as any other state employee. There were
critics who said we were making things too comfortable and cozy
for the workers in the shop and that they would have no incentive
to leave to find better employment. But the facts simply do not
support this argument. In the past, when the conditions were much
less favorable, very few blind people left the shop. Today, when
conditions are much more favorable, there has been a constant
increase in the number of blind people leaving for competitive
employment. Last year alone four blind people left the shop for
better jobs,and two others received promotions within the shop.
One was a clerical position, and the other was as a supervisor.
Another blind person decided to start his own business making the
same products he had been making in the shop. This would not have
been possible without the increased expectations of blind people
in the shop.
     In conclusion let me say that, if shops are to exist at all,
they ought not to become permanent dumping grounds for the blind
people that the rehab system considers too difficult to place in
competitive employment. They ought to be used only as temporary
or transitional employment options, in which blind people can
gain the necessary confidence to move on to better employment
elsewhere. It can be done. We've done it in New Mexico.[applause]



[PHOTO: Richard Edlund standing at podium microphone. CAPTION:
Richard Edlund.]

            SUCCESS IN ORGANIZING SHELTERED WORKSHOPS
                        by Richard Edlund

     From the Editor: For many years Dick Edlund served as
Treasurer of the National Federation of the Blind. He also led
many battles as we fought for blind sheltered shop employees to
win the right to organize for collective bargaining. He is now
the Representative of the people in the Thirty-third District in
the Kansas Legislature. This is what Richard Edlund had to say:

     Jim just called me honorable in his introduction. Someone
asked me the other day what it would take to make you honorable,
and I said, "an action of the legislature, of course."[applause]
It does me a lot of good to hear the success story that Joe
Cordova has just described in New Mexico. 
     In 1974 in the Kansas City, Kansas, shop, a number of the
employees knew something had to be done, and they prevailed on me
to do it. I didn't much want to take it on. At that time I didn't
think much about sheltered shops, but I didn't think they ought
to exist. I have since changed my mind on that at least until
something better comes along. At that time the employees were
making ninety-six cents an hour. I will not bore you with all of
the details--strikes, a warrant out for my arrest, and a bunch of
other things. By the way, the guy who swore the warrant out for
my arrest was Dr. Robert Harder, head of Social and
Rehabilitation Services, the Kansas vocational rehabilitation
agency. He is now the Secretary of Health and Environment. I
happen to sit on the Committee that controls his budget now. 
     I certainly wouldn't do anything to get even with him or
Health and Environment, but he doesn't know that. In any event,
when we did go on strike and persuaded enough people to decide
that probably it should be resolved, we wound up with ten of us
in a meeting: this same Dr. Harder, the Attorney General, two
blind guys from the shop, myself, an attorney friend of mine, and
several state employees. Before the negotiations commenced, I
couldn't help reflecting on the fact that there were only two
people sitting at that conference table who produced anything,
the two blind guys who worked in the shop, making mattresses. The
rest of the people produced absolutely nothing but a bunch of
paperwork and perhaps some hot air. Probably there wasn't one
non-producing person at that table who didn't make more in a
month than those blind production workers made in a year. I
somehow didn't think that made much sense. And it doesn't. We
still see some of it happening.
     In 1977 at the New Orleans convention of the National
Federation of the Blind, the delegates from Cincinnati were
talking with Dr. Jernigan, and he asked me to take on organizing
the Cincinnati shop. I said: "Fine. We'll just go out and do it.
Something ought to be done." So we did. It took a number of years
to get through all the courts, proving things over and over
again, but the most important thing we proved nationwide was
probably that blind workers in sheltered shops are actually
workers and not clients or inmates or patients or whatever tags
the social workers used. We have done that, I think, in our
organizing efforts throughout the country, starting with
Cincinnati, then Houston, Little Rock, Raleigh, and a variety of
other places. One of the things we did cause to happen was that a
lot of shops decided to take a look and improve their wage
structures--not all, but some. 
     The reason we decided in 1977 that this had to be done was
that we had been urging Congress for forty years to change the
law. But for some reason or other, in their infinite wisdom they
decided it probably didn't need changing. At that time the law
said that you could pay a blind guy as little as twenty-five
percent of the federal statutory minimum wage. The law was
probably passed that way because no one believed that blind
people could be productive. Today people know better. We've
gotten that accomplished. I'm proud to say that now in the Little
Rock shop, as I understand it, the beginning wage is something
over $6.00 an hour, and the Houston shop is the same. I'm more
familiar with the Houston shop. We've got a solid Teamster
contract with all the fringe benefits, the whole mess that
everyone is and should be entitled to.[applause] Trading the
sweat of your brow and the strength of your back is certainly
worth something. You're investing your life, and I believe that's
the nature of free enterprise. I think that's the way we ought to
do it. I don't think that the people who are managing the shops
should get off scot-free for not being business people, for not
knowing a thing about business.
     What I see happening is that the National Industries for the
Blind negotiates the pricing on these contracts. The contracts
are then delivered through the shops. The shops have the
opportunity to accept or reject the contract. Some do refuse
contracts they can't make money on; some don't know that they
have the right or don't take the opportunity to reject them, even
though they could if they knew anything about running a business.
They could figure what it costs to produce the product, but a lot
of them just don't pay any attention to costs at all. They know
they are going to be subsidized either by charitable
contributions or by state money. Other shops, ones that know what
they're doing, turn poor contracts down. You see, NIB is not very
tough when it comes to getting government contracts. They are
always sure of getting their four percent up front; so, if there
is nothing left as profit for the shop, that's how it is. I
resent having the labor of blind people subsidize mistakes by
National Industries for the Blind and subsidize the federal
government. 
     Probably most of you have heard the other speeches I have
made about this subject, so that pretty well wraps it up. I
believe we have enough power to persuade Congress, and I think we
have the ear of some Congressmen who can do what needs to be
done. And, of course, we're willing to help them. 



[PHOTO: Fred Puente standing at podium microphone. CAPTION: Fred
Puente.]

     A GUARANTEED MINIMUM WAGE FOR MORE THAN FIFTEEN YEARS 
                  AND PRODUCTIVITY REMAINS HIGH
                         by Fred Puente

     From the Editor: During the 1970's, while then NFB of
Maryland President John McCraw was chairman of its board of
trustees, Blind Industries and Services of Maryland (BISM)
stopped paying sub-minimum wages to its production line
employees. Today Fred Puente chairs the BISM Board of Trustees,
and the organization continues to provide leadership in the
sheltered shop field. Here is the report that Mr. Puente made to
convention delegates:

     Good morning Dr. Jernigan, President Maurer, Federationists,
and guests. I want to thank you for this opportunity to speak
with you today. My wife Marsha and I thank you for our warm
reception here in Dallas. I must admit, though, it is somewhat
different from my first exposure to the NFB.
     When I was first appointed to the Board of Blind Industries
and Services of Maryland (BISM), I received a call in my office
the day before the meeting, and I was instructed to enter the
building through the warehouse by way of the fenced parking lot
because those wild-eyed, radical NFBers would be picketing the
front entrance. The first real living, breathing Federationist
that I ever met was Connie McCraw. It was a sincere pleasure to
serve with Connie on our Board. Connie was truly the conscience
of that Board. I want to share a true story with you about Connie
McCraw. Each Christmas we share a luncheon with all the BISM
associates. We eat, sing carols, and all that. Well Connie was
sitting next to me, and I wasn't singing. She said, "Come on
Fred, sing." 
     I told her very confidentially, "Connie, my wife has told me
never to sing in public." 
     She said, "Ah, Fred, never you mind that; just sing." So I
did. I sang the next song. 
     After it was over, Connie leaned over to me, patted my hand,
and said, "Fred, listen to your wife." 
     Today I want to share some reflections with you on our
journey from sheltered workshop to Blind Industries and Services
of Maryland, an organization employing blind individuals. Our
journey has not been an easy one; we have faced significant
roadblocks along the way, but our journey has always been a
worthwhile one--one that we are proud to share with you today.
I'm sure that you are aware of some people who have a real knack
for holding back the tide of productivity and stifling
opportunity. But the BISM Board and our management team maintain
a firm commitment to exploiting opportunity, and not people. We
are an independent organization and hold no ties to NAC (The
National Accreditation Council for Agencies Serving the Blind and
Visually Handicapped).
     The past four and a half years are an incredible record of
this commitment. Our achievements are tangible evidence of our
efforts to listen to and work with the blind community--the NFB
and others. Without help from all these sources, we would not be
the organization that we are today. In the last fiscal year we
took the major step in addressing our goal of fair and equitable
compensation for each member of our organization. Our
compensation program centers on performance. Employees have the
opportunity to capitalize on their earning potential through our
system. No one in our organization makes less than $4.30 an hour,
five cents above the federal minimum wage. Our highest-paid
production worker earns $7.95 an hour. Guess what, that person is
blind. Our employees are paid for their performance in their
jobs, not for their personalities or physical characteristics.
Our commitment to raising the wages of our employees continues to
be one of our top priorities. The NFB has been instrumental in
helping us realize increased communication with our employees. We
recently implemented a new program to foster increased
management/employee communication. We actively solicit input from
our work force and openly engage in debate over many work-place
issues. We are proud to say that we are lowering our absenteeism
rates as a result of an ongoing dialogue about our attendance
policy. This is true evidence of the benefits of a
management/employee partnership. BISM is proud to acknowledge the
NFB as a friend and a major resource. There are a few key people
deserving of much of the credit for our relationship and the
resulting successes. Dr. Jernigan and President Maurer have
shared their views and opinions with us on many issues. They have
been critical when they thought we were in error, and they have
been supportive when they thought we were on the right road. We
thank them and ask for their continued support.[applause]
     Sharon Maneki, President of the NFB of Maryland, meets
regularly with our rehabilitation students and our employees. She
attends our board meetings and openly shares her views with us.
She is a member of the BISM Pricing Committee, which determines
the sales price of products BISM sells to the State of Maryland.
Thank you, Sharon, for the time and effort you expend on our
organization. We believe we have forged a lasting friendship with
the NFB and look forward to nurturing the growth of that
relationship. We are confident that you will share our vision of
the future. In January our Board charged BISM's management with
the responsibility of finding the best, not the second-best or
almost best, but the best rehabilitation program director in this
hemisphere. The director will take our program to new heights,
setting examples for other rehabilitation programs in the
country. After an extensive national search we are happy to say
we found the best right there in Baltimore, Maryland. We are
proud to boast that Rosemary Lerdahl, formerly Assistant Director
of Job Opportunities for the Blind at the NFB, is now a member of
our team.[applause] Rosemary is developing a rehabilitation
program that within five years will be the best in the country,
and we thank you for her. 
     Eileen Rivera, President of the Baltimore Chapter of the
NFB, is a new member of our Board. We look forward to her
contribution in leading BISM into the future. We have one other
NFB member on our Board, whom I would like to credit with a very
large portion of our success. He's been my antagonist; he's been
my advisor; he's been my advocate; he's been my coach and
teacher. He is also the Secretary of the NFB Blind Vendors
division and Treasurer of our Board. Most important, he's my
friend--Mr. Don Morris. Don's analytical mind and his keen sense
of the numbers, his grasp for the big picture, and his passion
for our mission never fails us. I am glad to have the chance
publicly to thank him and his wife Shirley for all their help and
support and friendship. Thank you very much.
     When President Maurer asked us to participate in a panel
discussion about sheltered workshops, we hesitated for two
reasons. One, we are not a sheltered workshop; and two, we don't
believe blind people need sheltering. They need the same
opportunities that everyone else has. The term "sheltered
workshop" is no longer part of our vocabulary. I find it hard to
say, and we all strongly discourage the use of the term. In fact,
during the recruitment process, a special effort is made to
educate candidates about BISM vocabulary. We are a business, not
a sheltered workshop. We have employees, not clients. Perhaps our
mission statement captures it best: Blind Industries and Services
of Maryland is a business committed to excellence in providing
quality products and services to our customers and employees. We
accomplish this through employment opportunity, job training,
rehabilitation, and services for blind adults. 
     One more story. Billy Brittingham works in our Salisbury,
Maryland, plant. He's blind. The Navy was having a design problem
with a backpack that we manufacture for the Navy Seals. All the
naval engineers, all the government quality engineers, and all
the experts were stumped. The problem was that the Seals couldn't
see to operate the mechanism, and the engineers couldn't figure
out a way to make it work. One day Billy overheard some
technicians discussing the problem and said, "I can fix that. All
you have to do is this...." Billy's solution was incorporated
into the Navy specs.[applause] At BISM not-for-profit is a tax
status, ladies and gentlemen, not an operating philosophy. We are
nothing without our employees, and each one of them plays a role
in our continued success. 
     We are not without problems at BISM. Responsibility and
challenge come with new opportunities. Some of our associates,
both blind and sighted, are experiencing difficulty adjusting to
the requirements of regular attendance, performance-based
evaluation, and empowerment. We will work through these
challenges together. We ourselves are empowered by the knowledge
that we have left behind forever the mentality of a sheltered
workshop and its custodialism, and we are on the road to
excellence.
     I leave you with this one final thought. BISM is proud to
serve as a model for other organizations seeking change. We will
never again be a sheltered workshop. We are a business committed
to excellence. Thank you.[applause]



[PHOTO: Donald Ellisburg standing at podium microphone. CAPTION:
Donald Ellisburg.]

                      FAIR LABOR STANDARDS:
           ARE BLIND PEOPLE BENEFICIARIES OR VICTIMS?
                     QUESTIONS OF PHILOSOPHY
                       by Donald Ellisburg

     From the Editor: In 1979 Donald Ellisburg was serving as the
Assistant Secretary for Employment Standards at the U.S.
Department of Labor in the Carter Administration. Because he was
the Director of the Sub-minimum Wage Program, he spoke to the
1979 Convention of the National Federation of the Blind. Since
that time Mr. Ellisburg has entered private law practice and has
now represented blind sheltered shop workers in both Lubbock,
Texas, and Buffalo, New York. He worked closely with the NFB in
both cases, and both times he won clear-cut victories, though one
could have wished for larger settlements for the workers. Because
of his experience in attempting to make the procedures
established by the Department of Labor function equitably for
blind workers, Mr. Ellisburg has formed clear opinions about the
current system and what must be done to reform it. Here is what
he had to say:

     Thank you very much for the kind invitation to participate
on this panel today to give my testimonial on the subject.
     It's also a pleasure to share a panel with chairman Austin
Murphy. He has been and remains a true friend and strong advocate
for workers and their rights. Let me say hello to Dr. Jernigan,
whom I remember fondly from my appearance at your organization
fourteen years ago. He seems to have survived the time much
better than I. But since then I have become a dues-paying member
of the NFB.[applause]
     Thank you President Maurer again, not only for the
invitation, but for the closeness with which you were willing to
work with me on behalf of all of you on this very difficult
subject of fair labor standards. I really appreciate your
valuable assistance.
     Thank you to Glenn Crosby over there, President of your
Texas Chapter. Your dedication, persistence, and first-hand
knowledge on behalf of those who worked at the Lubbock Workshop
were a tremendous inspiration to me as together we tried to
correct a terrible wrong. Thanks also to Vince Tagliarino, who is
not here today, who made our Buffalo experience personally
pleasant despite the enormous frustration of dealing with the
workshop officers.
     I'd also like to acknowledge my colleague, Charlie Brown,
who labored long and hard at the Department of Labor on good
works, and my friend Paul Kay, who is doing his thing and trying
to straighten out the D.C. courts. Special greetings to those of
you who are in the audience today and were my clients, both in
Lubbock and Buffalo. You were willing to stand up, be counted,
and declare that things weren't right. I respect your courage
against tremendous odds. 
     And finally, I have to acknowledge my good friend, Jim
Gashel, with whom I have worked and sparred these many years. In
these areas he has truly shown me the way. I've been asked to
give you some of my impressions on the operations of the Fair
Labor Standards Act, Section 14C provisions, that are supposed to
give workers a chance to challenge the wage rates paid to them in
a sheltered workshop situation. Under the law, if workers don't
believe they are paid the proper wage in a sheltered workshop,
they can file a complaint with the Department of Labor. Of
course, each person has to file a separate claim. The Department
of Labor is supposed to have a fast-track system to evaluate the
claim and explain how the wage is justified.
     I don't need to spend too much time on trying to provide
more of an understanding of the mechanics of this problem. I
tried twice, and our success has been a brutal reminder of the
way in which a system can defeat the little guy, no matter how
right or how good the arguments. I will just tell you that there
is no such thing as a fast track in government. In Lubbock,
Texas, we had a clear-cut case of wrongdoing. We had a clear-cut
case of a company totally mismanaged and out of control, and we
had a Department of Labor investigation that documented a
situation that warranted substantial payment to workers for
failing to deal properly with their wage needs. With all of the
wrongs, what was the result? The workshop filed for bankruptcy,
and we were forced to a settlement that was a fraction of the
money due. It seems that the bankruptcy laws don't protect
workers' wages beyond ninety days. It seems that the bankruptcy
laws only protect bank loans and other debts. 
     In Buffalo, New York, we had another good case. However, we
also had a Department of Labor that was not prepared to stand up
for the cause, despite a clear case of violations and a record-
keeping approach that was awful. In that case we were able to
obtain settlements for a two-year back-wage claim, but we could
not get the judge to accept willfulness. Therefore, we were once
again faced with a sheltered workshop board of directors that
refused to understand its obligations to its workers and decided
that its mission was only to make money for the non-profit
company. 
     So what does all of this mean for the program and the law?
This issue is not about economics. It is not about productivity.
It is not about government procurement regulations. It is not
about that hallowed term "competition." It surely is not about
the workers' ability. No, the issue is about justice, fairness,
equity, and responsibility. The issue is about bureaucratic
inertia and indifference, misplaced priorities, and a system that
is broken and probably can't be fixed without dramatic change.
     Finally, the issue is about exploitation and abuse by
seemingly well-meaning people who perpetuate an image of the
blind worker as needing to be treated as a child, and not as
someone who could ever become a productive member of an adult
society. The system is playing let's pretend. Workers with real
experience and proven talent are forced into a work environment
that is regressive, repressive, and counterproductive to anyone's
well-being. It is a scheme that rewards mistreatment.
     Let's look at a couple of specifics. This entire scheme is
based on a premise that blind workers can't keep up with normal
production; therefore, they can be paid something called a
commensurate wage that is supposedly proportional to the
prevailing wage that non-disabled workers would be earning for
the same or similar work. This is simply false. There is no basis
for any blind worker's receiving less than the minimum wage or
the prevailing wage for government production work. The United
States government should never have had people producing
materials for Desert Storm at $2.00 an hour, if the only
disability was that the worker couldn't see. What we have is a
system that says, "You can't get there from here. No matter how
good you get, the exploitation will follow you, and you will
never earn what you deserve." This is the ultimate
disincentive.  Yesterday I had the pleasure of listening to
President Maurer describe the work of the NFB and its many, many
programs leading the organization and the movement into the
twenty-first century. I sat there and I said, "That's real
interesting." Today, we're going to talk about a program that is
charged apparently with moving workers back into the nineteenth
century. It does not matter how much I vent my frustration at
this podium. All I can say is that the disappointment I have felt
in having to tell smart, bright, and productive people that the
system of protection really could not help them very much was a
very depressing experience. Compared to their unhappiness, my own
feelings were irrelevant.
     The actual experience of trying to make this non-system work
has led me to believe that there is a need to reorder the entire
sense of sheltered workshops. We need to revisit the problem and
ask ourselves, "Who are the constituents?" We need to have much
more control in how workers are to be treated, and we need to
provide empowerment to the workers in order to establish an
honest and equal relationship between them and the organizations
for which they work. We can no longer tolerate the master-servant
atmosphere that is a reminder of the eighteenth century fading
royalty's noblesse oblige. It is more than a technical-process
issue for Section 14C. It is true that we need a procedure that
enables workers effectively to challenge the economics of the
wage determination that has been imposed on them. It is also true
that the existing procedure places a totally impossible burden on
the worker to examine records and participate in an economic
hearing proceeding that is totally impossible to conduct without
legal assistance and the participation of professional labor
economists and production-methods experts. And the Department of
Labor's determination that the workers--even if successful--are
not entitled to have their legal and expert costs paid for by the
defending workshop makes a mockery of the workers' right to
counsel. Imagine asking a worker making $2.00 an hour to pay for
legal services and economic consultants.
     Process improvement is important and desperately needed, but
improvements in the process are useless if the underlying premise
is as bankrupt as the Lubbock Lighthouse or as fouled up
administratively as the Buffalo situation. The important premise
to deal with is to understand just who these blind workers are
and how we are to treat this alleged disability. This is not
about work therapy; this is not an issue involving opportunities
for those individuals who are severely disabled with mental
disabilities and limitations that take them out of the regular
work force. That's another issue. This is about workers who are
educated. They have gone to regular and special schools. Many of
them have gone to college. Many have worked in regular
employment, and many may have worked in other government defense-
production plants. These workers have families. They have raised
children and educated them. In short, they are you, and you are
American citizens, and you deserve the protection of our society
and assistance without the badge of second-class
exploitation.[applause]
     The real question then is what are we expecting in 1993 from
the Section 14C Program. How are we to reconcile this provision
of the Fair Labor Standards Act with the imperatives of the
Americans With Disabilities Act? This is a profound question for
the Administration and the Congress, but is anyone listening? Do
they hear the wake-up call, and will they answer the phone? The
government has a federal committee for purchases from the blind
and handicapped. It works with the National Industries for the
Blind to assign federal government procurement contracts to
sheltered workshops.
     A number of questions need to be asked of this committee
about its goals. The questions also need to be addressed to the
President and the Secretary of Defense. The questions should be
direct: Do workers whose only disability is that they are blind
have a patriotic obligation to subsidize the federal defense
effort at $2.00 an hour? Do workers whose only disability is that
they are blind have to submit to being treated as second-class
citizens when federal money funds the production contracts? Why
do federal officials continue to allow a system to exist that
clearly exploits a segment of our society? Why are they afraid of
the future? Is this the way that our government should be helping
its citizens? Why won't they work with us to correct the wrong?
This is 1993, and we have to solve 1993 problems with 1993
solutions. 
     We also need to ask the Department of Labor some questions
about their understanding of 14C and sheltered workshops: Who is
their client, and how do they really look at this program? In
addition, we need to ask ourselves what we are expecting from the
sheltered workshops. What do they expect from themselves? My two
experiences were frustrating in having to deal with organizations
that were governed by boards with a very strange commitment and
with virtually no willingness to understand their clientele. When
pushed, their only answer was to file for bankruptcy or, as in
the case of Buffalo, get out of the business. In this situation
bankruptcy just becomes another method of exploiting and
degrading the workers. And going out of business rather than
complying with the law is a cynical response to the agency's
mission.
     How does all this conclude? We have a new administration in
Washington that is looking at government from top to bottom. We
have a Secretary of Labor who is committed to finding solutions
for helping workers find new ways into the employment stream. We
have a recognition by the Congress that individuals with
disabilities are to be given a fair shake in the work place. If
we take all of these new promises and actually turn attention to
this little-known but widely abused provision of the law, then we
are at the threshold of a great opportunity for a fundamental
change in the way workers whose only disability is that they
can't see are given access to and are treated in the work place.
We have an opportunity to stress the need to help with real
employment, and we have the chance to re-examine the mission and
change the focus so that the sheltered workshop can really help
people as originally intended.
     Now is the time to seize the day, to seize the moment, and
to tell everyone who will listen that it is time to correct a
wrong. It is time for you to be trained with skills that will
give you the opportunity to work outside of the workshop, and it
is time that you were paid the minimum wage. Thank you for
listening. Good luck.[applause]



[PHOTO: Austin Murphy standing at podium microphone. CAPTION:
Austin Murphy.]

                      FAIR LABOR STANDARDS:
             A CONCEPT FOR ALL, INCLUDING THE BLIND
                        by Austin Murphy

     From the Editor: Austin Murphy is a Member of Congress from
Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. He serves as Chairman of the Sub-
committee on Labor Standards, Occupational Health, & Safety in
the House of Representatives. It is his committee that will hear
testimony concerning the possibility of abolishing the exemption
from paying the minimum wage to blind workers which is currently
written into Section 14C of the Fair Labor Standards Act. This is
what he told the 1993 Convention of the National Federation of
the Blind:

     Good afternoon. I regret to say that this is my first
meeting of the National Federation of the Blind. But I want to
tell you, Dr. Jernigan and Mr. President, what I have learned
here today is that, although there may be some limited ability to
see, on this rostrum there is certainly no lack of the ability to
speak.[applause]
     I have been here since ten minutes till nine this morning,
and I have heard the able and distinguished speakers. I'm the
clean-up batter, so let me quickly wrap up this program by saying
that I believe that, in fairness to the Congressional framers
back in 1936 when they were writing the Fair Labor Standards Act,
they were operating under a nineteenth-century mentality which
held that certain segments of our population were not equal to
others. They therefore created exemptions to the minimum wage.
The minimum wage in that first year, 1938, was established at
twenty-five cents per hour. And, as our distinguished previous
speaker said, it is now up to $4.25 an hour, hardly in keeping
with the rate of inflation since 1938, but we're now at that
lofty figure of $4.25 an hour.
     I believe that kind of attitude and that kind of exemption
back in 1938 were what created the sheltered workshop in the
first place. I don't believe that it was a desire to help the
disabled or a desire to help the sightless or a desire to help
anyone. It was the fact that the exemption was in place that
caused the entrepreneur to say we can now (of course they would
not have used the term "exploit") but we can now utilize the
services of people that we can pay less per hour. And as so many
of the speakers before me have pointed out (Fred, Mr. Cordova,
the Honorable Mr. Edlund), it was that very type of attitude that
has created a syndrome over the years in our country that you
could treat some workers differently from others. 
     We took a giant step when we passed the Americans With
Disabilities Act a few years ago. We have now made it quite clear
that there is no need to continue with any exemptions in the
minimum wage laws of this country. And as we have now entered
into a twenty-first century economy, in which we are relying more
on the service and technical fields than on the old industrial
and mining fields that kept this country afloat for a couple of
hundred years, we're into a new era. Unless we correct this
problem now in the twentieth century, we will carry into that
twenty-first century an anachronism from the 1800's. That is not
fair to this country; it is not fair to the people of this
country, and I'm not just talking about blind people. I'm talking
about every worker in this country. It is not fair to have their
labor undermined with being able to hire cheap labor, whether it
be in Arizona, Pennsylvania, California, or Taiwan.[applause]
     Both Mr. Ellisburg and Mr. Gross talked to you about the
application of the ADA, how we hope it's going to take effect. Mr
Ellisburg has pointed out to you the success in two cases, and
those are only the first two that he is going to be handling. But
I hope that, before this session of Congress ends in November of
1994, we will have adopted a new minimum wage law, one without
the exemptions, one without the encouragement to exploit laborers
in this country.[applause] Let me say to Jim, who pointed out job
loss, every time I have a hearing on minimum wage, I have
employers come in with figures and charts to tell me there will
be loss of jobs. Let me say to the sheltered shop managers that,
even if higher payroll costs result in the loss of some jobs,
there will not be more job loss in the sightless community than
there is in the total employment community. So such stats for
blind workers have absolutely no business in the question of how
we will treat every American worker. Those who have ability to
work should be paid for that ability, the same as every other
worker.[applause] 
     I publicly extend to you an invitation, as I have in
conversations last evening and this morning with some of the
panelists and your national officers: I want you to compose a
panel to testify before my Committee sometime this fall when we
open the hearings on a new minimum wage bill. I want you to be my
first panelists. I want you to come in, and I want you to give to
my colleagues in Congress the facts and statistics to back up the
arguments that we are discussing here today. Thank you very much
for your time.[applause]


     At the conclusion of this presentation, President Maurer
said, "As I said to Congressman Murphy, "That is a pledge that we
will be only too happy to accept."
           THE DETECTABLE WARNINGS DEBATE CONTINUES

     From the Editor: At the 1992 Convention of the National
Federation of the Blind, Peggy Pinder, NFB Second Vice President,
reported on the decision of the A117 Committee of the American
National Standards Institute (ANSI) to drop from its
accessibility standard all specifications for detectable
warnings--the so-called path-finder tiles or truncated domes.
(See the October, 1992, issue of the Braille Monitor.) 
     In the months since the ANSI decision, all three federal
agencies with principal responsibility for access rules--the
Department of Justice, the Department of Transportation, and the
Architectural and Transportation Barriers Compliance Board (now
commonly known as the Access Board)--have publicly indicated a
wish to re-examine the whole issue of truncated domes. All three
agencies have published in the Federal Register a series of
notices seeking comment on the desirability of suspending the
current requirements for the installation of truncated domes
while further research on the need for and the specific design of
detectable warnings is conducted by the Access Board. The two
areas where domes are most widely required are on the edges of
subway and train station platforms and on all curb ramps, which
for all practical purposes means warning strips across eight
separate curb cuts at every intersection in the country. If all
the proposed suspensions are put into place, all these
requirements would be postponed until January of 1995, except for
those involving new train and subway stations, where no
suspension has been proposed.
     Another way of putting the question is to ask: What should
government assume is its responsibility, and what should
government assume is the responsibility of the citizens? This is
a question that we have dealt with in the Republic since before
its founding, and this very question is what brought about the
passage of the Bill of Rights, the first ten amendments to the
Constitution. Rights and responsibilities go hand in hand, and we
have always been careful in this country to define clearly what
role the government may play in our lives or, to put it another
way, to define clearly the image of its citizens that the
government is allowed to have in its mind when it makes laws and
regulations. It is reasonable to ask the question: what is the
province of government, and what is the province of the
individual? This is not only a cost question--how much of our
hard-earned salaries we as taxpayers want to pay for which
services. It goes deeper than that to the very core of the
relationship between government and the citizen. Do we as blind
people want government to assert and maintain responsibility for
our safety? Do we want government to require the rebuilding of
the world for blind people as a result of this assertion of its
responsibility? Or do we blind people wish to assert and maintain
responsibility for ourselves, take the time and make the effort
to learn the skills to protect ourselves as we move about our
communities? As a part of thinking this through, we must keep in
mind that, no matter how many detectable warnings are put down
throughout the country, there will always be places where we must
be alert to and aware of our surroundings and ready to take
responsibility--places where there will be no domes. The same
skills that will keep us safe in such places will also allow us
to detect the so-called hazards the domes are designed to warn us
about. Do we want government-promulgated safety some of the time
or personal safety all of the time? Federationists think the
answer is clear. 
     Emotions and passions have run high on both sides of this
issue, however, particularly since two blind women were killed
earlier this year when they fell off transit platforms. Opponents
of the decision to postpone requirements to install detectable
warnings contend that cost considerations should not stand in the
way of saving even one human life. Those who maintain that
detectable warning requirements should be abolished altogether
point out that the Access Board is in the business of
establishing regulations to insure that disabled people have
access to public services, businesses, and governmental
facilities. Assuring such access, they say, is a far cry from
guaranteeing the safety of the disabled, for which the Board is
not empowered to establish regulations. 
     Moreover, they say, the very fact that thousands of blind
people every day travel safely on the nation's streets and in its
transit systems demonstrates conclusively that an access problem
for the blind does not exist. Even if safety were an appropriate
issue to be raising with the Access Board, there are strong
reasons for resisting the lure of headline-grabbing demands for
expensive and degrading transit reform to protect the blind.
     There are federal regulations that require that children's
sleepware be treated with flame-retardant chemicals. Everyone
knows that youngsters have little judgment about the consequences
of their actions and that they are often careless and clumsy.
Because as a society we recognize our custodial responsibility
for young children, we insist that they receive this extra
protection from themselves and the consequences of their unwise
actions when they are near open flames. 
     Though adults are sometimes burned or killed when their
night clothes catch fire and though sometimes such accidents are
due to their own carelessness or inattention, the federal
government does not insist on the expense of a requirement to
treat their garments with fire-retardant substances. Adults are
presumed to be capable of keeping themselves safe even though the
evidence is clear that occasionally an adult is hurt by flaming
nightware. Blind adults resent, or should resent, the presumption
that they are incapable of taking the steps necessary to preserve
their safety, even if they do not always take those steps. 
     No one would argue that all blind and visually impaired
people are always and in all places safe and competent travelers.
We are not, and most of us who have difficulties recognize them
and make appropriate arrangements. These can consist of changing
our plans or finding someone to accompany us. But better methods
of independent travel are available to all blind persons. We must
insure that good travel training is readily available, and we
must find ways of eliminating the stigma associated in the public
mind with using a white cane or guide dog. These solutions to the
problem of safe travel for blind people require us to put forth
effort and to take responsibility ourselves. They are the only
ones that will work and that will actually result in safety for
blind travelers.
     Even if society were prepared to expend the funds to install
detectable warnings at the edges of all train platforms and at
all points where vehicular traffic crosses pedestrian walkways,
blind people could never count on having all such possible points
equipped with detectable warnings or be assured of having those
warnings cleared of snow, ice, and debris in order to protect
blind pedestrians. And the very fact that blind travelers could
usually expect to have them present to identify points of
potential danger would incline them to carelessness and a level
of dependence on the warnings that would itself constitute a very
real and increasing danger. In addition, to travel independently
from detectable warning to detectable warning--from one end of
the block to the other or from the street to the subway car--the
blind person must use the same skills that allow him or her to
find the street or the platform edge without the necessity for
the detectable warning. One wonders how the proponents of
detectable warnings think blind people are supposed to get from
one set of domes to the next without falling down open manholes
or wrapping themselves around sign posts.
     Moreover, the time has now come in this debate as well as in
other areas of the social contract to ask the painful but
increasingly necessary question: how much is society willing to
pay to save one or a very few lives? Presumably there would be
fewer accidents at intersections, for example, if traffic
engineers were to employ railroad-crossing-style barriers instead
of redlights. But the cost would be staggering, and drivers would
resent both the implication that they were likely to behave
irresponsibly and the inconvenience of losing precious seconds as
the light turned green.  Likewise, blind people must look at the
larger social picture any time we decide to demand a change in
public policy toward us. It is always easy for the living to use
a tragic death to generate publicity about the sanctity of life
and the waste of a wonderful, contributing human being, whose
momentary carelessness or pure bad luck resulted in death in a
traffic or train accident, regardless of whether the person is
blind or sighted. We must all mourn such losses, but we must also
place them in the perspective of the entire struggle of blind
people for full inclusion and real participation in society as
equal and responsible partners. 
     The following article appeared in the July 15, 1993, issue
of New York Newsday. Karen Luxton Gourgey is a blind woman
employed at Baruch University in New York. Here it is: 

                    When Danger is Invisible
                     by Karen Luxton Gourgey

     New York Newsday, Thursday, July 15, 1993. A competent and
busy executive wakes up, helps the kids prepare breakfast,
harnesses her guide dog, and sets out for work. She boards the
Long Island Rail Road and arrives at Penn Station without
incident. She and her dog head for the 7th Avenue subway. She's
walking down the platform, as she has done every day. It's
mobbed, as it is every day. It's an island platform with tracks
on both sides, and, as usual, the dog walks on her left. She's in
a hurry and probably doesn't check to see just how close she is
to the edge. She doesn't feel anything under her foot to alert
her. Yes, there's a painted strip with sand to provide texture,
but she can't feel it through her shoes--especially now that most
of the sand has worn away. 
     The dog thinks everything is fine, too: "She's walking
straight, not veering, so it's okay to walk here." 
     But it's easy for someone to veer just a little, or to
stumble, or to get hot and dizzy. Before anyone can react, the
woman puts her foot down too close to the edge. Maybe she gets
surprised and lurches. The rest of the story is horrible and
unforgettable.
     Pam Schneider, the social service director who fell to her
death on the subway tracks at Penn Station on July 7, was very
much a teacher, always looking for ways to help all kinds of
people learn. I believe her tragedy can teach us one last lesson.
     No one would ever question the absolute need for stop signs
along roads or at intersections. Their function is obvious. They
are built into the vehicular environment to warn drivers and
pedestrians of danger.
     To ensure safe travel, pedestrians who are blind also
require stop signs. They can't be auditory, since environmental
noise could easily drown them out. They must be underfoot, and
they must be detectable.
     On some subway platforms, the New York City Transit
Authority has installed textured warning strips. An alert
traveler might detect them through his or her shoes, if the sand
strips are well maintained. But in most cases these strips are
worn, and one does not dare use them as any kind of guide.
     New warning strips are now being tested at stations like
34th Street and 6th Avenue. They are tiles that come up
approximately .2 inches from the surface. They haven't caused
problems to people in wheelchairs, or caused others to trip, but
they feel just different enough to send a signal. A friend, who
is a cane user, recently traveled to that station and said, "For
the first time in my life I was able to walk parallel to the
platform edge, slowly, but very independently, and not feel
afraid."
     I truly believe that if such a strip had been installed at
the 34th Street and 7th Avenue Station, Pam Schneider would be
alive today.
     When the original Department of Transportation regulations
were written to implement Title II of the Americans with
Disabilities Act (ADA), detectable warnings were mandated for all
transit facilities and all "hazardous vehicular areas," such as
intersections. However, Transportation Secretary Federico Pena
may suspend the mandate until 1995. And just two days after Pam
Schneider's fatal accident, the Justice Department proposed
suspending warning strips for curb cuts as well. Ironically,
something designed to assist people with one kind of disability
can endanger people with another: Since many of the new curb cuts
for people who use wheelchairs are completely flush with the
pavement, they are particularly dangerous for people who are
blind, who often cannot tell where the sidewalk ends and the
street begins. I have traveled with a guide dog for more than
twenty years; nevertheless, these curb cuts blend so perfectly
with the sidewalk that I have often found myself suddenly in the
middle of a street with no warning whatsoever.
     In the face of such obvious dangers, who would oppose
detectable warning strips? Transit authorities across the country
claim they need more time for research. Municipalities, plus
commercial establishments that must also install such strips, are
complaining about the expense and the need for maintenance.
     Tragically, the National Federation of the Blind,
headquartered in Baltimore, claims to be so concerned with
"sending the wrong message to society" about the competence of
blind and visually impaired people that it opposes any such
environmental supports. It is dismaying that this group has
become so concerned about the attitudes of what it calls "sighted
society" that it could risk the lives of brothers and sisters.
     It's time for everybody to realize that warning strips are a
life-and-death issue. Only by implementing these regulations now
will we do fitting honor to Pam Schneider's memory.
                      ____________________

     That's what Karen Luxton Gourgey wrote, and it certainly
attempts to play on the pathos of Ms. Schneider's accident to
make her point--a competent, productive mother died; and despite
this tragedy, money-grubbing transit officials, unfeeling
governmental bureaucrats, and blind people eager to sell their
souls for a mess of social-acceptability pottage are uniting to
insure that more blind people will needlessly die. But Dr. Paul
Gabias, President of the National Association of Guide Dog Users,
read the column and took exception to Ms. Gourgey's complete
rejection of Ms. Schneider's personal responsibility for the
tragedy that so sadly occurred. Dr. Gabias and Ms. Schneider were
good friends, and he has been a friend of Ms. Gourgey's husband
for some years, so his response was carefully considered and
arose from his own personal sense of loss. Here is his letter:

                                         British Columbia, Canada
                                                  August 25, 1993

     I just read the article written by Karen Luxton. The
disturbing implication is that if the National Federation of the
Blind had not fought against truncated domes, they might have
been installed and Pamela Schneider would be alive today. I know
Karen Luxton, and I knew Pam Schneider. Pamela's travel skills
were excellent; I can attest to that from personal experience. As
far as I know, Karen is also a very good traveler.
     The implication in this article is that Pamela fell because
she didn't know where the edge of the platform was. The article
assumes that Pamela might have been in a hurry and therefore
didn't check to see just how close she was to the edge. My own
observation is that, when I walk along an island platform with a
guide dog, I ordinarily don't check for the edge either. I know
that I have inculcated sufficient knowledge about the danger of
platform edges in the dog's training so that I don't have to
worry about it anymore. My dogs have always been taught to stay
at least two feet from platform edges unless the train is in the
station. They behave in a similar manner with respect to other
edges as well, be they cliffs, edges of docks, edges of pools, or
any other major sudden drop-off.
     Of course, the proper use of the long white cane will keep a
person at a safe distance from any sudden drop-off as well.
     The world is full of sudden drop-offs. Blind people, in
order to be safe, must be able to keep away from these precipices
in all circumstances and at any time. It is wishful thinking to
expect that the earth, with its natural brinks and cliffs, will
redesign itself to accommodate blind people. In order to feel
completely confident and secure, we must be able to travel
independently and safely despite the natural brinks and cliffs on
the earth. Subway platforms mimic these natural drops. In order
to feel completely secure, it seems to me that one must provide
some preemptive solutions which one believes to be foolproof. I
trust my dog's training; I trust my cane skills. And I believe
that I can get around anywhere on earth using my mobility tools,
without any special architectural adaptations designed
specifically for the blind. I wouldn't have it any other way. I
wouldn't travel if I couldn't feel safe everywhere and anywhere I
went. My philosophy is "Do what you will to the earth or the
ground or the sound around me; I refuse to have my feeling of
safety and security determined by architectural changes in the
external environment."
     Apparently, given our resolutions against audible traffic
signals and tactile warnings, other people in the NFB feel the
same way. What we do hope is that blind people will be given
sufficient training so that they will not feel at the mercy of
this or that architectural change which is supposed to be
designed to keep the blind safe. With proper training and
opportunity, we can manage our own affairs and keep ourselves
safe, regardless of the architectural trends in vogue at the
time. We don't have to worry about the installation of special
adaptations for the blind. We have confidence that we are safe
with or without such adaptations and whether or not they are
carefully maintained. Our desire is that all blind people will
achieve this level of confidence. Judging by the number of us who
have this confidence, we believe that it is possible for everyone
who needs such training to benefit from it if the funding and
good training are available.
     But, getting back to Pamela, she did have good training, as
far as I know; yet she was killed. Why? The article would have us
suppose that Pamela was in a hurry and probably didn't check to
see just how close she was to the edge. The dog thought
everything was fine, too. But was everything fine? And whose
responsibility was it to ensure that everything was fine? Was it
the dog's or Pamela's? It seems to me that in the end it was
Pamela's because she was the handler, and it was her job to make
sure that the dog was performing as it should.
     The article goes on to say, "But it's easy for someone to
veer just a little or to stumble or to get hot and dizzy." My own
feeling about all of this is that, even if I veered a little or
stumbled or got hot or dizzy, even if I fell, maintaining a two-
foot distance from the edge should be far enough to keep me from
falling off the platform. If a two-foot margin is not sufficient
distance to prevent someone from falling onto the tracks,
regardless of the circumstance that caused the fall, then
truncated domes would have been of no use in Ms. Schneider's
accident. If the dog did not keep a two-foot margin of safety,
the problem lies in the handler and not the platform. If this is
the case, we cannot blame the transit authority for the result.
The problem lies in the guide dog's training, the transfer
training with the student, the blind traveler, or the blind
person's handling of the dog. If a two-foot clearance is not
enough, then we still cannot blame the transit authority. People
sometimes fall for peculiar reasons in peculiar positions, and
there is nothing to prevent such tragic accidents from
occasionally happening. I am deeply sorry that Pamela died, and
in such a horrible way, too. We will never know why.
     The notion that truncated domes should be located at street
corners is not terribly useful either. In snow-covered
conditions, which can last up to six months in northern climates,
truncated domes are useless. Nevertheless, blind people travel in
these conditions and keep themselves from walking into the street
in heavy traffic. Blind people and their guide dogs learn to deal
with these conditions safely and efficiently. I know lots of
blind people who travel around Montreal in the winter; and,
although they complain bitterly about the snow like everyone
else, they go where they need to and get on with the business of
living. Obviously people have developed techniques to deal with
the absence of curbs. They use the traffic noise and the
architecture and landscaping around them. I'm not saying that I
like the absence of curbs at corners, but I do believe that there
are better ways to spend federal, state, and local tax money than
on truncated domes, and many other blind people agree with me. We
are glad that the Department of Transportation agreed with the
position of the National Federation of the Blind to oppose
truncated domes.
                      ____________________

     There you have the comments of one knowledgeable blind man
who is an experienced guide dog trainer and user. Here is the
comment submitted by the National Federation of the Blind in
early September to the Architectural and Transportation Barriers
Compliance Board:

                                              Baltimore, Maryland
                                                September 3, 1993

Mr. James G. Raggio, General Counsel 
Office of the General Counsel
Architectural and Transportation Barriers Compliance Board
Washington D. C.

Dear Mr. Raggio: 
   This is the official comment of the National Federation of the
Blind, responding to the notice published at 58 FR 37052 on July
9, 1993, concerning the proposed suspension of the guidelines for
detectable warnings. As explained in the detailed comments below,
we support the proposed suspension but request more decisive
action. We also feel that the action being taken by the Board,
the Department of Justice, and the Department of Transportation
does not go nearly far enough. In light of the information which
now exists and the information which is likely to be assembled
through further study, we favor the eventual elimination of
detectable warnings from the guidelines.

       Statement of Organizational Interest and Expertise

   The National Federation of the Blind is a membership
organization of blind people. As such, virtually all of our
members will be affected directly by the decisions made on this
matter. The Federation has a total national membership exceeding
50,000, and the vast majority of the members are blind. State
affiliates of the NFB exist in each of the fifty states, the
District of Columbia, and Puerto Rico. Local chapters of the
Federation can be found in most sizable population areas. Because
of its widespread and large membership the Federation is often
referred to as "the voice of the nation's blind." 
   It is an organizational requirement in the NFB that a majority
of the active members must be blind. This is true at all levels.
Only blind persons may hold elective office at the national
level. Therefore, the NFB is not an organization speaking for the
blind; it is the blind speaking for themselves. In the present
instance the views expressed in this comment reflect the
Federation's officially adopted position concerning detectable
warnings. NFB policies on matters such as this are determined by
national convention vote, and the convention is the
organization's supreme authority. 
   The presence or absence of detectable warnings in all of the
areas specified in the guidelines has a direct impact on blind
people. Therefore, of those affected by the proposed rule, those
whom we represent are the most directly affected. Also our
experiences in traveling about both with and without detectable
warnings provide the most relevant testimony concerning the need
or lack thereof for the warnings. As both the notice and logic
indicate, detectable warnings have been intended for blind and
visually impaired people. Therefore, in making its decision on
the proposed rule, the Board should rely most heavily on the
expressed views of persons who are blind or visually impaired. 

                      Statement of Position

   The NFB supports suspension of the detectable warnings
guidelines. However, we oppose a time-limited suspension. In
point of fact, a suspension with an announced reinstatement date
is not really a suspension. Building and facility operators must
assume that the detectable warnings guidelines are actually still
in effect although not currently being enforced. Therefore, there
is not really a suspension at all. The Federation supports
eventual elimination of the guidelines. With respect to
transportation facilities, the Federation opposes continued
application of the guidelines to newly constructed or altered
platforms. We also oppose reinstatement of the guidelines on
existing platform edges at key rail stations on January 26, 1995,
or at any later date. 
   Detectable warnings should not be included in Americans with
Disabilities Act Accessibility Guidelines (ADAAG) or any other
standards or guidelines for the following reasons: (1) in
assessing the need for a detectable warnings guideline, it is
sound public policy to apply an "individual responsibility test"
to determine whether it is reasonable to expect blind persons to
travel without detectable warnings; (2) a safety need for the
warnings is not supported by factual evidence; (3) the warnings
communicate no information about the environment that is not
already available to blind persons and routinely used by them;
and (4) detectable warnings actually create a threat to safe
mobility for blind persons and others.
     (1) In assessing the need for a detectable warnings
guideline, it is sound public policy to apply an "individual
responsibility" standard. Traveling about in a safe and efficient
manner is and must remain a matter of individual responsibility.
Access guidelines must acknowledge this fact. The guidelines
should also acknowledge the methods--use of cane or dog--which
are effective and safe for blind people. The guidelines should
not disregard these methods or in any way encourage blind people
to reject them. Use of effective travel methods is an individual
responsibility. If a blind person elects not to use effective
methods, the guidelines should not condone such behavior.
Furthermore, it is not a responsibility for the government under
the ADA to insure access for individuals who do not use the
methods available to live independently. 
     As a matter of public policy it is the responsibility of
society as a whole to provide a safe environment, but a rule of
reason must also apply. Not all people--sighted as well as
blind--will travel entirely safely at all times. The physical
environment cannot possibly be built in such a way that no one is
ever injured. Quite apart from that, the aim of access guidelines
issued under the ADA is to insure access. Safety is a broader
social responsibility, and safe movement within facilities that
are safe is an individual responsibility. The goals of the ADA
have been met as long as individuals with disabilities have equal
access. The absence of detectable warnings probably does not
limit the mobility of blind persons who are employing responsible
methods of independent travel. 
     (2) A safety need for the warnings is not supported by
factual evidence. Buildings and facilities that are covered by
the ADA are now as safe for use by blind people as they are for
use by sighted people. This is the critical consideration. As
stated above, personal safety is largely a matter of individual
responsibility. Access guidelines and their enforcement cannot
assure safety for each person in all places at all times. The
guidelines can assure that facilities are designed to be safe for
society as a whole, including for blind individuals. It is
demonstrably the case that without detectable warnings buildings
and facilities covered by the ADA are on the whole no less safe
for blind people than they are for sighted people. 
   Safety is certainly an appropriate concern, but in the making
of public policy, concerns about unwarranted actions and
expenditures are also appropriate. Therefore, the safety concern
cannot be based on fear; it must be based on fact. Fear of being
unsafe because of blindness is an understandable feeling for
sighted people, but it leads to conclusions based on emotional
responses, not factual information. Emotionally it is hard to
accept the fact that sight is not an essential sense to protect
against most hazards in the physical environment. But blind
people already move about safely. Daily this provides empirical
evidence that fears of falling or being injured are groundless
since hazards can be identified in advance. 
     (3) The warnings communicate no information about the
environment that is not already available to blind persons and
routinely used by them. Detectable warnings do not add to the
information now available about the location of building hazards
or environmental characteristics. The hazards or characteristics
can be located, with or without the warning, by means of the cane
or guide dog. In addition, the warning does not indicate the
nature of the hazard ahead. Therefore, further exploration by the
blind individual is always needed. The warning on its own is
confusing. It does not provide any form of assurance that vital
information is communicated to the blind person. 
     The legal premise for including detectable warnings in ADAAG
is that such warnings allegedly assure blind persons of
accessible communication about environmental characteristics.
However, characteristics of the physical environment already
provide essential information and the warnings themselves add
nothing. Consequently, the legal premise for requiring detectable
warnings must fall. The warnings do not insure an environment
that is discrimination-free for blind people and are therefore
not justified under the ADA. 
     (4) Detectable warnings actually create a threat to safe
mobility for blind persons and others. If detectable warnings are
ever accepted as an appropriate travel aid for the blind, there
is no rational argument for limiting their application. Yet, if
their use is not limited, the initial cost and continuing
maintenance costs would be prohibitively expensive. If as a
matter of policy one accepts the need for detectable warnings,
why should any obstacle in the path of travel not be bounded by
such a warning? If only some hazards are marked by warnings,
inconsistency is likely to be a serious (even dangerous) concern.
How can the average blind traveler have any confidence that a
warning will be provided against apparent dangers, if only some
warnings are required at only some locations? 
   If detectable warnings are as effective as their proponents
believe them to be, it is reasonable to expect that blind people
will come to rely upon them. That would be a dangerous outcome.
The guidelines do not require warnings to protect against every
hazard, but the average blind individual cannot be expected to be
an expert in the guidelines. For example, if warnings are only on
the platforms of key rail stations, what will happen to the blind
person who uses or travels to a station that is not key? How is
the individual to know whether to expect or not to expect the
warnings? The assumption that a warning must be present could be
deadly either in a subway station or on a street. 
     For people who are not blind, detectable warnings themselves
pose new obstacles and dangers. For example, persons with
mobility impairments (including people who use wheelchairs,
walking canes, crutches, walkers, or other mobility aids) find
that these warnings obstruct their smooth, level path of travel.
Injuries can be caused when the integrity of the surface is
disrupted. So, rather than creating greater access for
individuals with disabilities, detectable warnings are additional
barriers. In that sense they defeat the purpose of the ADA. 

               Special Considerations Relevant to
                    Transportation Facilities

   The current suspension of the detectable warnings requirements
on platforms of key rail stations until January 26, 1995, is
patently absurd. If one accepts the need for the warnings on
platform edges, then the need exists now. If one does not accept
the need, then the need will not exist to any greater degree in
1995 than it does at present. Since the Board has decided to
submit the matter of detectable warnings to further study, it
would make far more sense for the Department of Transportation to
join in that study. Meanwhile, the guidelines applicable to
platforms at key rail stations should be postponed indefinitely. 
   Training methods are definitely available for blind people to
use raised transit platforms safely and confidently. Unlike a
slight slope at a ramped street crossing, the platform edge is a
sharp drop-off. It is a natural, detectable warning which can be
found by cane or dog. Blind travelers locate the platform edge
(using either cane or guide dog) and orient themselves to it. The
traveler knows with confidence that the train will arrive at a
platform edge and therefore wishes to be safe by deliberately
locating the edge immediately upon arrival on the platform. 
   For the blind person a detectable warning along the edge
presents nonspecific information about a change in the floor
surface. It also interferes with effective use of the cane at a
critical point, causing the cane to jump and lose contact with
the floor surface. It does not establish that the edge has been
reached and in fact can cause a blind person to miss the edge
with the touch of a cane. With or without the warning the blind
person must find the edge of the platform and do so at a safe
distance with cane or guide dog. The only way that the traveler
knows for certain that the edge has been found is positively to
identify the edge, not the warning. The procedure just described
is safe and efficient. 
   Concern has been raised about two tragic deaths in major urban
transit stations (Boston and New York) which occurred in June and
July, 1993. The women killed in each instance were blind and
using guide dogs. They both stepped off the raised platform after
their dogs had already stopped. Proponents of detectable warnings
have used these deaths as evidence for the need. They say that
detectable warnings on the platforms of each station in question
could have prevented the tragedies. 
   As to whether the deaths could have been prevented by the
warnings, that is a question of fact. Although the deaths cause
feelings of sadness for all of us, the facts which led to the
deaths must be examined in making public policy. Since she lived
for several days after her fall, Peggy McCarthy, who was killed
in Boston, reportedly told her friends that she realized her
mistake in proceeding after her dog had stopped. Thus the dog
provided Ms. McCarthy with an appropriate warning, which she
apparently misinterpreted, at least to some extent.
Unfortunately, tragedies of human error such as this cannot be
prevented. Ms. McCarthy could misinterpret a detectable warning
just as she misinterpreted her dog's warning. 
   Pamela Schneider, who was killed in New York, had found the
edge of the platform, her dog had stopped to inform her of the
edge, and witnesses reported that she continued to walk, weaving
along the edge with the dog. Finally she lost her balance and
fell as a train was arriving in the station. The temperature in
that station at the time was said to be 110 degrees, and Ms.
Schneider was diabetic. The observers' reports suggest that
physical instability was the likely cause of the fall from the
platform. The platform itself had a detectable warning. 
   In one sense, decisions to require or not to require
detectable warnings come down to matters of genuine human
concern. Therefore, there is an almost inescapable draw toward
accepting the emotional response to tragedies such as these. But
the successful experiences of blind people using transit systems
every day can help to balance the perspective and cannot be
ignored. In point of fact, finding the edges of raised platforms
is something that any blind traveler who uses a train must do as
a routine matter of daily life. 
   The best way to travel with safety and confidence is to employ
deliberate measures to find the platform edge and not to shy away
from doing so. Unlike some other characteristics of the built
environment, the edges of raised train platforms cannot be hidden
or obscured by other surroundings. They can be found with
certainty by cane or dog. Transit operators and government
regulators alike can be assured that these techniques work
safely. This statement represents the informed view of blind
people who for reasons of self-interest have absolutely no desire
to be unsafe. 

                           Conclusion

   For the reasons set forth in this comment, the National
Federation of the Blind requests the indefinite suspension of all
detectable warnings guidelines. The partial and time-limited
suspensions contemplated will simply add to the confusion and
send a signal of government uncertainty. If the agencies
responsible are in fact now in doubt about the efficacy of
continuing to enforce guidelines for detectable warnings, they
should say so in a straightforward manner. This policy would be
far more responsible than taking the partial and indefinite
action proposed. This is not to say that the matter should not
receive further study if the agencies decide to do so.

                                          Respectfully submitted,
                                                     James Gashel
                                 Director of Governmental Affairs
                                 National Federation of the Blind


[PHOTO: Yeager family walking on sidewalk, Mrs. Yeager holding
daughter's hand. CAPTION: Nancy, Jerry, and Tracy Yeager explore
the neighborhood near their Alexandria, Virginia, home.]

            THE WASHINGTONIAN MAGAZINE GETS IT RIGHT

     From the Editor: Jerry and Nancy Yeager are leaders of the
National Federation of the Blind of Virginia. Like thousands of
other couples living in the suburbs of Washington, D.C., they
both work for the federal government, and together they share the
joys and challenges of raising their two-year-old daughter Tracy.
There is nothing unusual about the Yeagers' life, except that
their neighbors and acquaintances are still learning that two
competent blind adults can and do live a perfectly ordinary life,
contributing to their community and enjoying their child.
     In the October, 1993, issue of The Washingtonian magazine, a
story appeared about the Yeager family. The reporter, Randy
Rieland, resisted the temptation to resort to piled-up adjectives
and maudlin sentimentality. Instead he reported on a happy,
normal family, the sensible modifications they have made to keep
their daughter safe and happy, and the problems they sometimes
have with those who distrust their ability to rear their daughter
successfully. Here is the story:

                       LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT
                Nancy and Jerry Yeager Are Blind.
                     Their Daughter is Not.
           Together, They Learn to Live in Two Worlds.

     Early on, Tracy knew that her parents' eyes didn't work.
     Even at a few months of age, she realized that pointing at
things brought no response. So Tracy, an infant testing life,
found another way. She began grabbing her parents' hands and
putting them on whatever she wanted. If she was hungry, she would
touch her fingers to her mother's mouth. Together, Tracy and her
parents, both blind since birth, began to shape their world.
     Nancy and Jerry Yeager know all about pity. How to the
sighted theirs seems a poignant world, rife with limitations.
They know they will never see their daughter's smile, or watch
her run across the room to them. But these images, they point
out, are memories of the sighted. "If you don't see, what you
aren't able to see of her is a non-issue," says Nancy.
     It seems odd, then, to find a video camera on a tripod in
the Yeagers' living room. To them, the camera makes perfect
sense, even if, like most parents, they don't use it as much as
they thought they would. "If we think she's doing something
cute," says Jerry, "we aim the camera in the direction of the
sound. It gives us an audio record."
     Tracy's sounds are their baby snapshots, collected on tape
or stored away in their memories, keepsakes of these times. "I
love to hear her talking to herself in her bed," says her father.
     Jerry, who's thirty-eight, had always worried about what
kind of father he would be, because he didn't have much patience
with babies. Nancy, forty-one, was nervous about how having a
child would affect her career--she works for the Farm Credit
Administration. "It was never an issue of `Do we not want
children because we can't see?' We knew we had both overcome
enough obstacles. We knew we would deal with whatever came up."
They also had heard the stories from other blind parents of
sighted children. Some people, the Yeagers were told, would think
they had created a child to give them eyes. Others would feel
sorry for Tracy, imagining a life dimmed by her parents'
blindness.
     Not long ago the Yeagers heard a woman tell Tracy, who had
just turned two, "Now, honey, don't let your mom and dad get
hurt." And neighbors have volunteered to take Tracy to the pool
or to the neighborhood Halloween parade. "That suggests we're not
capable of doing it," says her mother. "These are things we want
to share with her."
     Nancy is particularly sensitive to the "poor blind person"
treatment, no matter how well-intentioned, in front of her
daughter. "We can teach her that blindness is okay. But when
people act like we're helpless, what kind of message does that
send to her about us?" Jerry is more philosophical. "Let's face
it. Some days you're able to say, `It's better if we do this with
Tracy.' Other days you're more tart with people."
     The Yeagers describe themselves as being like any other
couple with a child. Little in their Alexandria high-rise
apartment suggests otherwise. Toys lie scattered around the
living room, flotsam from a toddler wave. "You learn to shuffle
like this," says Jerry, sliding his feet along the carpet, "and
kick them to the side."
     A Barney tape sits ready next to the black-and-white TV.
Nearby is a Sesame Street book--its Braille notations not only
translate the words but also describe the images. At one end of
the room is a red plastic table, crayons strewn across the top.
It's the only place in the apartment where Tracy is allowed to
color. Nancy and Jerry always know where she is, but they don't
always know what she's doing, and they don't want her wandering
around the apartment with a crayon in her hand. Not that most
parents wouldn't feel the same way, but the Yeagers, more than
most, must set boundaries they can't guard.
     So they make rules, rules as ironclad as they are practical.
Tracy knows, for instance, that she must answer when she's
called. "Hide-and-seek is not a game we ever play," says Nancy.
     Tracy also has learned to give her parents any strange
object she finds. Once she handed them a wet caterpillar. "Our
first thought was, `Did she have this in her mouth?'" Jerry
remembers thinking. "I figured, `Well, she's gotten her
caterpillar protein for the day.'"
     "Daddy, can I run?" Tracy asks. She is standing outside the
apartment door, looking down the long, narrow hallway that leads
to the elevators. Jerry says okay and she's off, scrambling
stiff-legged across the carpet. This is the one place where Tracy
is allowed to run free, but even here there's a rule. Once the
elevator bell rings, she has to grab one of her parents' hands
and wait to get on with them. "She is a good little hand-holder,"
says her father.
     The family tries to go out for a restaurant meal once a
week. Just as often they go to the neighborhood playground, a
trek that takes them through a parking lot and the sounds of
moving cars.
     Nancy and Jerry are used to maneuvering around traffic, but
doing it with a two-year-old brings new risks. So before they go
out, they fit Tracy into a little harness. When it's secure
around her waist, Tracy grabs the loose end of the tether and
presses it into her mother's hand.
     To see them walking together, Nancy and Jerry with their
canes and Tracy connected to them by the tether, the notion of
Tracy as a tiny guide is not completely unfair. From a distance,
it is hard to tell that they, not she, are leading.
     The Yeagers appreciate that, but not so much that they can
forgive the security guard who followed them around their
apartment complex one afternoon. "Beyond a certain point," says
Nancy, "there's nothing we can do about that attitude. When you
go into a new place, you take it all in with your eyes. For us,
taking a place in means taking our canes and walking all around
it. But people see that and think we're lost.
     "When we go out," she says, "we like to explore things
together. I'll ask Tracy if she sees the birds that I hear. Or
I'll ask her what color the flowers are that I smell. And if she
asks me what something is and I don't know, I just tell her that
I don't know. Sometimes we have to learn together."
     What they have learned, above all, is that their lives are
not about the disparity of blindness and sight, but rather how
the two can merge. Sometimes Tracy will grab a cane and tap it in
front of her. Sometimes Nancy will join in a game of mother-
daughter peekaboo.
     Tracy, across the room, crouches behind a playpen. Suddenly
she pops up, giggling, "I see you, Mama."
     "I see you, too," answers Nancy.
     Nor does Jerry miss a beat a moment later when he is
complimented on Tracy's grin.
     "She has a beautiful smile," he says. "I just know."



[PHOTO: Picketers walking down sidwalk and standing on grass lot
(holding signs). Camerman in foreground. CAPTION: Members of the
National Federation of the Blind of Nebraska picket the Applewood
Tanning Center while a local television camerman records the
action.]

                       JUST PLAIN BIZARRE
                        by Larry Streeter

     From the Editor: Larry Streeter is one of the leaders of the
National Federation of the Blind of Nebraska. Several weeks ago
he wrote an article describing recent activities of the Omaha
Chapter. The story reminds us once again that we must always be
ready to defend the rights of blind people and to educate the
public while we are about it. Here is what Larry had to say:

     It seems only yesterday that I resided in Dallas and served
as the President of the Progressive Chapter of the National
Federation of the Blind of Texas. On occasion something very
unusual would occur, and Mark Noble, who now resides in Seattle,
would mutter, "That's bizarre." 
     I was working July 29 when the phone rang. I picked it up to
hear the pleasant voice of hard-working Omaha Federationist Vicki
Hodges. She said, "Are you sitting down?" When I responded in the
affirmative, she said, "On July 16 they opted for a jury trial."
Suddenly I recalled Mr. Noble's expression, "That's bizarre." I
found myself thinking: "But this is 1993! This situation is
ludicrous; these people are every bit as arrogant as I
suspected!" However, I can't really say that I was shocked by the
news of their decision.
     In my years as a member of the NFB, I have noticed that some
people escape the indignity of discrimination almost entirely,
while others fight it on a regular basis. Those who are lucky
enough to escape or avoid it are something of an endangered
species. However, eventually lightning is bound to strike. When
discrimination finally hits, it can do so with terrific force.
     Several years ago Vicki and I met on a bus one bright sunny
morning and struck up a conversation. I learned that she had
lived in Iowa, had been trained at the Iowa Commission for the
Blind under Dr. Jernigan, had attended NFB national conventions,
and was a student at the University of Nebraska at Omaha. Vicki
agreed to come to our chapter meetings. Until May 15, 1993, Vicki
was a member of that endangered species--those who had
experienced little discrimination.
     But on May 17 Vicki called me to relate her experience. She
was angry and humiliated. Discrimination was new to her. But her
battle was soon to become the battle of the Omaha Chapter, and it
would ultimately include Federationists from throughout the area.
     On Friday, May 14, 1993, Vicki had called the Applewood
Tanning Center (ATC) to get information about their tanning rates
and to reserve a time to tan. She also inquired about the cost of
the accelerator products sold there. Before the call ended, Vicki
asked the owner, with whom she was talking, if ATC required new
customers to fill out a general medical-information card. Vicki
has been going to tanning salons for about two years and has
filled out information cards for other facilities. She wanted to
allow herself enough time before her appointment to comply with
their procedures and to provide ATC the necessary information.
Her appointment was set for Saturday, May 15 at 10:30 a.m.
     She called a cab at approximately 9:45 a.m. This gave the
cab driver plenty of time to pick her up and arrive at ATC's
front door far in advance of her appointment. After minor route
difficulties she arrived at the salon at approximately 10:10 a.m.
and paid the driver $4.80 plus a tip.
     A woman and man were behind the counter three or four steps
inside the door. They greeted her; she identified herself and
informed them of her 10:30 appointment. The woman asked Vicki if
she had tanned before, to which she replied, "Yes." The man asked
her for a list of businesses where she had tanned. Vicki obliged
by providing him the names of four locations. The woman then
asked her if it was all right with her doctor if she tanned.
Vicki said she had been doing this for more than two years and
that her doctor did not disapprove. 
     The woman then asked Vicki if she was able to fill out and
sign the card. Vicki explained that she would be happy to provide
the necessary information for the woman to fill in and that she
could then sign it herself. The woman told her that she had to be
able to read the card to fill it out and sign it or she could not
tan. Vicki asked why someone could not read the card to her and
fill it out at her dictation. The man explained that it was their
policy. She asked what they meant by "their policy." The man
explained that ATC was a family-owned business and that they were
the owners. Vicki told them that she thought such a policy was a
violation of the Americans with Disabilities Act. They said that
they didn't care because it was their business. Vicki responded
by saying that she thought "their policy" was discriminatory.
They shrugged off her statement and continued to refuse to let
her tan. In exasperation Vicki said they had just wasted her time
and money.
     Following this humiliating interchange, Vicki needed to use
their phone to call for a ride home and asked where it was
located. The man said, "It's over here." 
     She asked, "What does, `It's over here,' mean?" 
     He told her to follow the counter around to her right. Once
she had made her way around the counter, he asked her if she had
the number, because he "needed to dial it for her." She gave him
the number, which he dialed. She identified herself to the cab
operator and said she needed to be picked up because the salon
owners were not going to let her tan. She handed the receiver
back to the man and told him that she was going to look into the
legalities of their policy. Vicki then walked outside to wait for
her cab.
     She checked the time to see how long this entire encounter
had taken and to calculate how long it would take a cab to reach
her. It was 10:14 a.m. Vicki decided that she should get the
names of the owners, so she went back inside, walked up to the
counter, and said, "Did you say that you two are the owners?" 
     They said, "Yes." She asked them their names. There was a
short, but noticeable pause. The woman identified herself as
Sharon Hurt. 
     Vicki asked, "Is that spelled H-e-r-t?" 
     The man said, "H-u-r-t." Then Sharon said, "And this is
David." 
     Vicki said, "David and Sharon Hurt. Thank you." Then she
walked back outside.
     The cab driver picked her up at 10:24 a.m. and dropped her
back home. Vicki spent $9.60 of her money in cab fare plus tips
and forty-five to fifty minutes of her time to seek out a
service, presumably available to the public, which in good faith
she had pre-arranged and was then refused. 
     But this is only the beginning of the story. Vicki attended
the May meeting of the Omaha Chapter and gave a report of the
salon incident. Chapter members listened attentively. First Vice
President Craig Groff expressed the opinion that maybe we should
have a tanning party and pay ATC a friendly visit. Gary Thompson
decided that he needed a tan and later set up an appointment.
     Gary, a long-time Federationist, is a telephone operator for
Offutt Air Force Base in Omaha and a dog guide user. He made an
appointment for 2:30 Saturday afternoon, June 5. He arrived at
the center at approximately 2:20. Gary entered the salon with his
dog guide, announced his name, and said that he was there for his
scheduled appointment. He was immediately informed that he could
not enter the salon with his dog, for it was a violation of state
Health Department standards. Gary attempted to explain that his
animal was a guide dog and could go anywhere he went in public.
The man, and a woman in the background, kept telling him that,
according to Health Department laws, he could not enter the salon
with his dog.
     Gary presented his dog guide identification card to the man,
who simply ignored it. Gary was advised that the dog could not go
back into the tanning area; he immediately suggested that he tie
the dog to a chair while he was being tanned, but this was not
acceptable to the proprietor. Gary explained that, according to
the law, a guide dog could go anywhere he went; he then asked if
there was any way that the entire issue could be negotiated. The
man said no. Gary asked for his name and was told Dave Hurt. Mr.
Hurt provided Gary with a business card. Gary left the salon and
returned home.
     Following this second blatant act of discrimination, we made
three important decisions: (1) As President of the Omaha Chapter,
I was asked by Vicki and Gary to serve as their representative
for the purpose of filing a Title III Americans with Disabilities
Act (ADA) complaint against ATC in Omaha with the Department of
Justice (DOJ). The complaint has been accepted for investigation
by DOJ. (2) Vicki and Gary filed affidavits with the city
prosecutor's office on June 22, 1993, for violation of the
Nebraska White Cane Law. (3) I sent press releases to all three
television stations in Omaha advising them of the NFB chapter's
plan to picket ATC on June 26.
     When we checked with KETV-7 assignment editor Joe Kashmir on
Wednesday, June 23, about possible Saturday coverage, Kashmir
immediately asked if KETV could do a story that very afternoon
for airing that night at 10:00. As the hour struck two, reporter
Julie Cornell interviewed Vicki and Larry, and the report was the
lead story that night. Ms. Cornell's report was excellent. The
story also aired during the early morning area news and during
two local breaks of Good Morning America. Her report left only
one impression--blind people have been denied equal access to a
public facility. The pictures in the report showed two confident
and independent blind people.
     On Saturday, June 26, as Omaha Chapter President I gave
final instructions and reminded the membership of our history,
the need for self-discipline, and the absolute necessity to avoid
getting carried away. At 10:00 in the morning, over thirty NFB
members came with picket signs in hand to demonstrate against
ATC. Signs reading, "Blind people can tan too," "Equal access is
the law," "Tanning doesn't require sight," "NFB tans Applewood
Tanning Center," "NFB = equal rights for the blind," "NFB removes
myths about blindness," and "Blind people always first class,"
were held high, and enthusiasm was great. As usual, the picket
was peaceful and disciplined. For three hours thousands of cars
passed by, drivers slowed down, some honked their horns, while
others verbally expressed their approval.
     Many first-time picketers were on hand, including NFB
members Joe and Gail Larson and their thirteen-year-old blind
daughter Angie. Associate member Darwin Fager took great photos
of this main event. With a video camera Darwin caught the owners
of ATC getting out of their Jeep and sneaking into the salon to
avoid the press. People in the area, shopping at other stores,
came by and questioned our actions; in all cases they left
exclaiming that we should keep up the pressure. KETV reporter
Cornell was back and did another superb job of reporting the
facts; our story was aired at 6:00 and 10:00. The CBS affiliate,
KMTV-3, sent reporter Tom Elser to capture the action; his
report, like Cornell's, was excellent. Channel 3 gave our picket
major-story status on the 10 o'clock news. A shorter version was
seen at 6:00 p.m. In all dealings with the press, ATC personnel
refused to comment.
     The good time we had picketing against ATC has passed. The
owners have made the decision to take their case to a jury. We
are aware of the public's attitudes about blindness, and we know
that anything can happen, especially in the courts. Federation
leader Richard Edlund once said to me, "We do not look for
lawsuits; they tend to find us." Those words ring true to me now.
Fortunately the public in Omaha is more aware than ever before,
for the press listened carefully to our philosophy, observed our
actions, and reported the story in a fair and accurate fashion.
     No victory is ever guaranteed. We must be prepared for the
best or the worst; either way, we will handle our affairs with
integrity. This absurd tale has served a meaningful purpose by
teaching our chapter members firsthand the merits of concerted
action. Yes, Mr. Noble, you are indeed correct in noting that
life has its bizarre moments.


[PHOTO: Kathy Kannenberg standing at blackboard talking with
students. CAPTION: Teacher Kathy Kannenberg instructs her class
in the mysteries of mathematics.]

                        LEARNING TO TEACH
                       by Kathy Kannenberg

     From the Editor: Kathy Kannenberg is the President of the
National Federation of the Blind of North Carolina. Four years
ago she had never heard of the National Federation of the Blind;
she didn't even realize that she was blind. She did know that she
wanted to be a math teacher, and she was beginning to recognize
that she might have some difficulty handling her students because
of her poor vision. Today she is demonstrably one of the finest
young secondary school math teachers in the country. What follows
is the story of how she got from the perplexities and problems of
her undergraduate life to where she is today. It's a story that
she told the convention audience on Thursday afternoon, July 8,
1993. Here it is:

     I have to tell you, this is the largest class I've ever
taught. But we'll start off with a good lesson. I want to try
something here that I used in one of my classes earlier this
year. I would like to hear all the ladies in the room call out
"N." [N!] Very good! How about everyone here who was at national
convention for the first time in 1990, I want to hear you call
out "F." [F!]Very, very good! (You need to encourage the
children, you know.) Now, if you've won a scholarship from the
National Federation of the Blind, I want to hear you call out
"B." [B!] And finally, if you were here in Dallas for the Golden
Anniversary Convention three years ago, just shout as loud as you
can. [roar from the audience] Wonderful! 
     Our lesson today--Venn diagrams! We have just illustrated
what a Venn diagram can be. If you called out for any of those
four categories, you belong to the union of the four categories.
If you called out for all four categories, you're very special;
you belong to the same category as I. You belong to the
intersection of those categories. And I'll tell you why that's
special, or at least why it's special to me. In 1990, when I was
at National Convention for the first time, when I had won a
scholarship at our fiftieth anniversary convention here in
Dallas, on Independence Day I picked up my first long white cane,
and I made a commitment to this organization to change what it
means to be blind. That's what I've been doing in the three years
since.
     Let me give you a little background on myself. In elementary
school I got in trouble and had to write sentences because the
teacher said I was mocking her. She wanted me to read from the
board, and I couldn't. After some time the school saw fit to send
me to the counselor, sent me to the eye doctor, sent me here,
sent me there. Finally, in my files I was labeled as having
"sensitive vision." Thereafter I was ignored.
     I continued in public school. When I was in junior high, I
had a fantastic math teacher. It was in his class that I decided
what I wanted to do: I wanted to teach math. So I went about
making myself into prime math teacher material. I took every math
course I could. I went to the North Carolina School of Science
and Math. I went to the University of North Carolina at Chapel
Hill and then to North Carolina State University.
     And boom! It was my second year at State, and I started
thinking, "These people are treating me kind of weird. I'm not
exactly sure why." (Keep in mind that once I was labeled in
elementary school, I was thereafter forgotten. I assumed that
nobody knew about me and nobody understood why I used magnifying
glasses or walked up to the board in the middle of class.) It was
also about this time that I began wondering, "How am I going to
keep Billy in the back of the room from throwing spit balls all
the time?" Gradually I began to understand why people were
treating me weird; they were wondering things like that too.
     It was also about this time that I got a letter from Hazel
Staley, who was President of the National Federation of the Blind
of North Carolina at that time. It was as if she had been reading
my mind. The letter said, "You are invited to the organization of
the North Carolina Association of Blind Students. Please come and
join." I thought, "Well, I don't know; I'm not blind." But I went
because I thought that maybe someone over there used to have
"sensitive vision" before they went blind, and maybe that person
could tell me what it was like trying to get a job so I could be
prepared.
     I decided to go. I walked into the hotel, and I was shocked.
I had never before encountered a blind person. All of a sudden I
was surrounded by hundreds of people walking around with these
long white sticks. I was a little scared at first. I didn't know
what was going on, but I got caught. I was dragged upstairs,
where I met Scott LaBarre from Minnesota, who was First Vice
President of the student division at the time. I struck out for
myself and met some of the other blind students there. I found
that they weren't so weird for being blind.
     I went into the business meeting and got to listen to
President Maurer, who was the national representative to the
North Carolina convention that year. Slowly, I began to realize
that these people knew what they were doing. They had ideas. So I
stuck around to find out more. Then I heard the thing that really
caught my interest. These blind guys were offering scholarships.
I thought, "Hey, I'm smart; I could pass for blind. I could win
one of these scholarships." So I tried real hard to act the way I
thought blind people acted. I had to convince these people that I
was one of them. I walked into doors and other people. I tripped
over things. I figured I could make it look real good.
     I applied for an NFB scholarship, and, in spite of how
arrogant I realize now that I was, I won a scholarship. And I
came to national convention here in Dallas. So now you know why I
love Dallas so much. Coming back to Dallas is like coming home
because this is where I bonded with every one of you. This is
where my heart is. Coming back to Dallas is like coming home to
the Federation for me.
     I spent lots of time with lots of different people that
week, as all scholarship winners do. I ended up going to the
National Association of Blind Educators meeting, where I thought
I would surely find people who were in my situation. I was
looking for blind people who successfully went through teacher
training and were teaching in spit ball-free environments. I
needed to find them because I was realizing that I didn't have to
pretend to be blind. I was beginning to understand that I was a
blind woman pretending to be sighted.
     Boy, did I find teachers! Some had been blind all their
lives. Some had lost their vision slowly, others quickly. Some
had residual vision, and some of these blind teachers could see
better than I could. People like Tom Ley, Pat Munson, and Fred
Schroeder--they put me in my place. Here they were--real live
blind guys--doing what I wanted to do, and doing it well.
     I began hearing a word at that division meeting and
throughout the week: "network." I wondered what this network
thing was; then suddenly it clicked. I really needed to hook up
with these guys. They knew what they were talking about. I needed
to keep in touch with them so I could pick their brains for ideas
when I started wondering about things like how to stop Billy's
spit balls. I also needed to deal with the stupid things I was
doing to try to look more sighted. Walking around with a piece of
paper held so close to my face that it brushed my nose in order
to take roll just wasn't going to cut it with high school kids.
     I really knuckled down. I got names, phone numbers, and
addresses. I talked with anybody and everybody who would hold
still long enough. I collected as many ideas about teaching as I
possibly could. I was able to say that five-letter word. I was
blind, and I had to find ways of dealing with it. I had to become
a competent blind person before I could ever hope to become a
competent teacher. I picked up my cane, and I became a
Federationist in every sense of the word.
     I went back to school that fall, and like every good little
undergrad at State, I met with my advisor to plan the year which
lay ahead. And just as in the previous fall meetings, my advisor
asked, "Now Kathy, are you sure you want to teach math? Those
children can be awfully cruel at times, you know." 
     But unlike our previous meetings, I replied, "Sir, I've not
felt comfortable with that question ever since you started asking
it two years ago. Let me tell you this. I am going to be a math
teacher, and I am going to be the best math teacher this
department has ever graduated." 
     "Well then, we need to set up a good student teaching
arrangement for you. Go ahead and start scouting for schools
because we want to make sure that you're in the best possible
situation."
     "Ok, what does that mean?"
     "We want you to be in a class where the students will be a
little easier on you, maybe kids that know something about
blindness. We want to make sure the teacher isn't going to be
hostile or give you too much work...."
     "Um, just cut it off right there. That's not going to work.
If I start getting special treatment now, when I actually get out
there and start applying for teaching jobs, people will look back
and say, `Oh, I see you had a cushy assignment for your student
teaching.' I don't want that to happen. No one in the real world
is going to make it easy for me."
     After a lot of discussion about the things I had learned
from my Federation family, I told him just to put my name in the
hat with everybody else's, and I would be fine. Unfortunately,
that discussion and decision didn't stop the question, "Are you
sure you want to teach math?" I decided that, if this professor
was so doubtful despite his education, I had better get out there
and start showing everybody what I could do.
     I went to local high schools and volunteered to be a
teacher's aide, to tutor, or to babysit detention hall. I
volunteered for anything that let me teach math or that would
expose me to real classroom situations. I ended up tutoring
everything from remedial math to second-quarter calculus. And I
accomplished my goal. It was something that the National
Association of Blind Educators taught me--make inroads into the
community. Principals knew me. Teachers knew me. Parents knew me.
I got calls from people who said they had heard from so-and-so
that I was a good tutor. 
     When my student teaching semester came and we drew lots for
our assignments, only one person in my class did not pity me.
That was because she was going to be across the hall from me at
the school with the roughest reputation in town. I knew I wasn't
getting any special treatment. She and I began our work at the
inner city magnet school known for Thursday night football, three
of the city's largest street gangs, and our best calculus
students. What a combination!
     I ended up teaching remedial math classes (populated by kids
who were at school for the air conditioning) and advanced
calculus. I told my supervising teacher that I was really pleased
to be working with her and that I enjoyed teaching the two
extremes, but that I wanted some experience teaching other topics
as well. She was amenable to the idea and helped me contract my
services out. By the time I left, everyone recognized that I knew
my stuff--not just the books but how to manage the kids and how
to manage myself.
     Each time I entered a class for the first time, I stood up
and said, "Describe this object." I would hold up my cane, and
they would say it was a white stick or a plastic thing. In the
more creative classes I got other descriptions, but in the end, I
would ask, "All right, what do I use it for?" Now, these children
weren't ignorant; they had seen blind people before. So I said,
"Yes, you're absolutely right. I use this to help me travel.
Neither this nor a dog tells me what to do. I decide, and I use
it appropriately. I will also teach you to decide when to use
your calculators and how to use them appropriately. I will teach
you to decide when to use reference manuals and how to use them
appropriately. Let's get to work."
     I finished my student teaching and my degree in December of
'91. Not only did I have glowing recommendations from the
principals and teachers with whom I had worked, but I had the
math education department's recommendation saying that I was
their top graduate. I owe a great deal to the Federation for the
support and advice that got me through it all.
     With credentials like that to back me, I put my application
out across the state and planned to substitute teach until
something came my way. In a couple of months I was invited to
teach fourth quarter at a backwoods high school. Some of you
experienced teachers might say I was suckered into the job, but I
prefer to think of it as baptism by fire. I was teaching those
two fun groups--seniors who just knew that I, an interim teacher,
would never flunk those who were about to graduate and others who
were, again, in school for the air conditioning. I am proud to
report that every one of my students passed and deserved to.
     That summer I got a call to interview from a middle school.
Even though I was trained for high school, I figured that it
wouldn't hurt to practice my interviewing skills, so I went. I
sat down and answered the man's questions, and after a bit he
began to hem and haw. That's when I remembered something else I
had learned from other Federationists--you've got to go into an
interview and talk about your blindness because they'll be scared
to. If you don't bring it up, they're going to think you're
trying to hide it. So I did. "Mr. King, now that I've answered
your questions, I wonder if I could say something myself? I'm
sure you've seen that I use a white cane. Well, I'd like to let
you know that I am an active member of the National Federation of
the Blind; and, yes, I am blind. I want you to understand that
this fact does not mean I am unable to teach or to handle myself
in the classroom. You can tell from my recommendations that I am
quite capable. It simply means that I do some things differently."
     As it turned out, he was very anxious to talk to me about my
blindness. He asked me some very pointed questions like, "How are
you going to tell if someone is in the classroom or if they are
skipping?" I answered his questions in great detail. I told him
about many of the alternative techniques that I use in the
classroom. We spent a long time talking about how I function in
the classroom; and, as it turned out, many of the things I did
were exactly the same as other teachers--sighted teachers--in his
school were already doing.
     The job was offered a day or so later, and I said I needed
to think about it. The position was teaching science and math to
academically gifted sixth graders. I did a little asking around
and found that this position is not usually offered to teachers
with less than five years' experience and tenure. It was one of
those offers you just can't refuse. So I took it, and I got a ten
percent bonus on my paycheck!
     At the introductory faculty meeting I interrupted the
principal as she was introducing me to tell them that I was blind
and that I would appreciate it if thereafter they would forget
about it. If I couldn't do something, then I would ask for help.
I made sure that everyone knew that I was going to pull my own
weight. I spent the year making myself indispensable. And at the
end of the year, when other teachers were being let go because of
budget circumstances, my principal called me aside.
     "Kathy," she said, "I'm going to keep you around, and I'm
going to tell you why. Frankly, you bring a lot of good press to
the school, and we need it. Second, you really saved us with the
parents this year by taking on the extra math classes in place of
your electives when the other teacher left. And third, I've got
an announcement to give you. Wake County has chosen you to be
First-Year Teacher of the Year, and you're going on to national
competition."
     All this long tale is to say that the Federation is the
place to be, whether you know what you're doing or not. You can
come here and get in touch with people who are doing the same
thing or a similar thing to what you're doing or want to do. You
can get good ideas from them. You can start generating your own
ideas and sharing them with others. Once you've done that, you
can make yourself into a wonderful success.
     I also said at the beginning of all this that I was changing
what it means to be blind. I dealt with lots of parents last year
and had a lot of sixth graders in my class, and I've gone through
several canes, mostly because so many kids ran off with them,
tapping down the hall, trying them out. I taught the Braille
alphabet as part of math class when we talked about permutations.
I showed some of them how to use a slate and stylus. Those kids
know the capabilities of blind people because they've worked with
me in the classroom, in the dreaded cafeteria, and on field
trips. The visually impaired kids at my school know who I am.
They've stopped and talked with me. We've stayed after school to
work and talk about what it's like being different. And as for
the blind kids mainstreamed into public schools, I want you to
know that there is light at the end of the tunnel. Some of us
blind guys are out there, and some of those kids are getting role
models in the schools. Like you, I take every chance I get to
share the Federation philosophy because together we will change
what it means to be blind.


[PHOTO: Portrait. CAPTION: Doris Willoughby.]

                 PBS GETS LOW MARKS FOR ACCURACY

     From the Editor: All not-for-profit organizations engaged in
what they believe to be good works find it pleasant to paint
themselves as noble benefactors, doing good to some group or for
some purpose that is in profound need of assistance or rescue.
When the objects of such descriptions are coastal wetlands or
orphaned lion cubs or even the general public, the damage done is
probably non-existent; but, when a single group of people are
diminished and made objects of pity, the effect can be extremely
harmful. The problem is, of course, that the more pitiful the
descriptions are, the more money the helping organization is
likely to raise from such appeals. 
     Blind people know firsthand about the phenomenon because the
agencies created to assist us have all too often through the
years fallen into the temptation of conducting their fund raising
at our expense, while comforting themselves with the questionable
justification that their virtuous ends and real needs justify the
means to which they resort. We know how wrong such logic is, and
to their credit some groups in the field of work with the blind
have begun to recognize the damage their public pity parties have
had on the people they are supposed to be serving and, as a
result, have modified their advertising and fund raising. They
have recognized that depicting blind people as having empty,
colorless lives makes it harder for us to demonstrate our
fundamental normality and take our places as fully participating
members of the community. But some organizations still yield to
the temptation to exploit blind people in order to benefit
themselves. 
     In late July Doris Willoughby, co-author of the most
practical and complete handbook for teachers and parents of blind
children and an active member of the National Federation of the
Blind, opened Newsweek Magazine and saw an ad for the Public
Broadcasting Service (PBS) which talked about the Descriptive
Video Service (DVS), an outgrowth of PBS that dubs descriptions
of the nonverbal action and other visual information into films,
television programs, and the like. DVS began at PBS station WGBH
in Boston. The Newsweek ad depicted a blind man supposedly
watching television in bleak surroundings meant to convey to the
suggestible how important a service would be that could make the
wonders of television programming comprehensible to this poor
soul. The unconscious message was clear: Blind people lead empty,
meaningless lives. They need all the help they can get. Please
enable us to bring a little cheer into their desolate lives. 
     Immediately Mrs. Willoughby recognized the damage that such
advertising would do to all blind people. Her response was
decisive, but not what the ad campaign personnel could have
hoped. Here is the letter she wrote: 

                                                 Des Moines, Iowa
                                                   August 6, 1993

Public Relations Department
PBS-TV
Alexandria, Virginia

Dear Public Broadcasting Service:
     I am writing to express great concern about an advertisement
placed by PBS.
     As a teacher of blind children and the wife of a blind
electrical engineer, I am very enthusiastic about Descriptive
Video Service (DVS). I have taken part in a workshop about
narration for children. DVS helps to integrate blind children and
adults into regular, normal life.
     In the July 26 Newsweek, I was extremely disappointed to see
a large advertisement which has the opposite effect: it brings
out old and inaccurate stereotypes of blindness and counteracts
the integration of blind persons into normal life.
     I note these stereotypes:
     1. The blind man does not, or cannot, face the screen in a
normal position.
     2. He is alone, with a cat as his companion.
     3. The walls and floor are drab--no pictures on the walls,
no color scheme, no decorations. There is no furniture except the
TV stand and his chair.
     4. The room is dark and dismal, physically and emotionally.
     In actual, normal life, a blind person with proper education
and equal opportunity is quite a contrast:
     1. He places the TV in a normal position and faces the
screen.
     2. He has a wife and children who also watch TV. Or, if he
happens to be single, he has friends and relatives.
     3. He takes care that the room's decor is normal and
attractive.
     4. Even if he has no vision at all, he turns on the lights
for others' benefit. If he invited PBS to take his picture as a
supporter of DVS, he would expect the photographer to use normal
or special lighting as he would for any other picture.
     As a teacher I help my students learn normal posture and
positioning. In the classroom they face the teacher, the flag,
the movie screen, the TV monitor, etc.
     Perhaps the person who composed this advertisement was
unsure how to indicate that the man is blind. After all, since he
is not walking, he would not be using a cane or a guide dog. When
watching TV, he would probably not be reading Braille at the same
time. However, there are better solutions to this problem than
using outdated stereotypes. For example, a three-picture panel
might show the person (a) at work, typing on his computer; (b)
walking home, using his white cane or guide dog; (c) at home,
watching The New Explorers with his children.
     I urge you, in planning presentations in which a blind
person is shown, to consult representatives of a group
experienced in promoting a positive, normal image of blind
people. The best source of this advice, in my opinion, is the
National Federation of the Blind (NFB). (Ironically, the NFB was
the sponsor of the Presidential Inauguration broadcast, which was
highlighted in this advertisement.) You can obtain advice on
detecting stereotypes and on finding appropriate ways to create a
better presentation. The address of the NFB is National
Federation of the Blind, 1800 Johnson Street, Baltimore, Maryland
21230; (410) 659-9314.
     Again, I am enthusiastic about DVS itself. I am sure you
will take steps to avoid this kind of problem in the future.

                                                 Sincerely yours,
                                              Doris M. Willoughby

cc:  Descriptive Video Service
     WGBH-TV
     Iowa Public Television
     National Federation of the Blind


                    THE UNIFIED BRAILLE CODE:
                    SOME MYTHS AND REALITIES
        by John Jackson, Darleen Bogart, and Hilda Caton

     From the Editor: The authors of the following article
recently sent it to us with the request that it be published in
the Braille Monitor in an attempt to correct a number of
misconceptions concerning the proposed Unified Braille Code. Many
of us in the National Federation of the Blind believe that, if it
is possible to construct a code that will meld the four current
English codes without doing damage to the readability of literary
Braille, it would be a very good idea. Therefore, in the hope of
encouraging more complete understanding of the effort to explain
the plans and reassuring the uncertain among us, here is the
article that was submitted: 

     (Note: The opinions expressed by the authors are their own
and should not be construed as official positions taken by the
National Library Service, the Canadian National Institute for the
Blind, or the American Printing House for the Blind.)
     Since the report of an attempt to formulate a Unified
Braille Code (UBC) was first issued in early 1992, it has been
widely discussed and debated throughout the Braille-oriented
community in the United States and Canada. In this short time
much confusion and much misunderstanding have arisen regarding
its status, design, purpose, and potential impact upon Braille
readers, educators, and transcribers. In this article ten common
myths about this thing called the UBC are debunked in an effort
to shed some sober light on a serious subject.
MYTH 1.
     The Unified Braille Code has already been adopted and is now
the official Braille code of the United States and Canada.
     REALITY. No Unified Braille Code has been adopted. In fact a
UBC has not even been fully formulated. To date the Braille
Authority of North America (BANA), the rule-making body for
English Braille codes in North America, has only authorized a
group of committees to investigate the feasibility of a single
Braille code capable of conveying the information that now
requires the use of as many as four codes: literary, Nemeth,
textbook, and computer. The UBC project will take at least five
years to complete.
MYTH 2.
     The proposed UBC will change literary Braille (the most
commonly read code) so radically that for most readers Braille
will be slower and more difficult to read.
     REALITY. Most current Braille readers will notice relatively
few changes, because BANA has directed the committees of the UBC
project to construct the new code so that no major changes will
be made to the literary code. Any substantial changes will occur
in material that is heavily math-, science-, or computer-
oriented. Those who primarily read novels, cookbooks, religious
materials, etc., will have relatively few new signs and rules to
learn and are likely to need only a short adjustment time.
MYTH 3.
     The UBC is an exclusively American project. Therefore, if it
is adopted, Braille in America will be radically different from
Braille in other English-speaking countries.
     REALITY. Although the UBC project began in 1989 solely as a
North American undertaking, in June, 1993, the project was
adopted by the International Council on English Braille (ICEB),
the council that promotes Braille conformity throughout all
English-speaking countries. Therefore, if the UBC is adopted, a
single Braille code will be used for literature throughout the
English-speaking world. (The code for Braille music is already
international.)
MYTH 4.
     The proposed UBC is being designed by a small group of
intellectuals; and readers, educators, and transcribers will have
no real consequential input in determining its final form.
     REALITY. The initial designers of the proposed code have
extensive backgrounds in code design and related areas that are
necessary for logical code construction. However, the code
eventually proposed will have design input from all sectors of
the Braille community--particularly from readers, educators, and
transcribers. By BANA requirement any eventual code must be
thoroughly readable by current Braille users. Therefore, the new
Braille Research Center at the American Printing House for the
Blind has been designated to conduct ongoing reader evaluations
as the proposed code is being developed. Readers interested in
participating in the evaluations should contact Hilda Caton,
Braille Research Center, American Printing House for the Blind,
P.O. Box 6085, Louisville, Kentucky 40206.
     Also open forums are being conducted regularly at major
conventions of blind consumers and at meetings of Braille
transcribers and educators throughout the country. Additionally,
these groups will have serious input through representatives on
the committees of the project.
MYTH 5.
     The UBC is being developed primarily to meet the needs of
readers who are technical types, heavily math- or computer-
oriented.
     REALITY. The impetus for developing a unified Braille code
has not come from those who are math- and computer-oriented.
Codes already exist for these areas. As a matter of fact, the
Braille experienced by those who read technical literature will
be changed much more by the UBC than the Braille experienced by
those who read nontechnical literature. The momentum for a UBC
grows out of the increasing need for one simple, readable,
computable, and flexible code that can represent the growing
complexity of print information that must regularly be put into
Braille to meet the needs of the general reader. Currently, as
many as four Braille codes must be learned to access much of this
information. In today's world, where Braille users regularly work
in print-oriented environments (the school, the workplace, the
social scene), the purposes for which Braille is used are more
numerous and varied than they were many years ago, when blind and
sighted persons lived in relatively separate worlds. As a
consequence, the reading matter that is put into Braille today is
quite different from the reading matter that was put into Braille
in 1932, when Grade II Braille was adopted. In this modern, high-
tech society, most of us must perform some activities that were
once reserved for so-called technical types. Blind persons
deserve timely access to the written information they need to
participate equally in this society. The proposed UBC is being
designed to meet the needs of today's general reader and to
represent the ever-expanding language in which information is
expressed today.
MYTH 6.
     The UBC is being developed primarily to accommodate computer
Braille translation to the detriment of readability.
     REALITY. The charge from BANA to the UBC project
specifically states that the code should "Be computable to the
greatest degree possible, without detriment to readability...,"
but that readability must not be sacrificed in the interest of
computability. Therefore, the code eventually proposed will be
carefully scrutinized--particularly by readers in the ongoing
evaluations--to assure that it meets this criterion.
MYTH 7.
     If the UBC is adopted, materials in the current code will no
longer be available, and no future materials will be transcribed
in the current codes.
     REALITY. It is anticipated that, if the change to a UBC ever
occurs, it will be a gradual one, over a period of several years.
It is only reasonable to assume that materials transcribed in
current codes will continue to be circulated in the interim. Even
if the UBC is adopted, it may be possible to produce computer
Braille translations of the same book in both the UBC code and
another code(s).
MYTH 8.
     Use of the UBC will substantially increase the size of
Braille volumes.
     REALITY. Because the proposed UBC has not been fully
formulated, a truly accurate measurement of this issue cannot be
made. However, current statistics from the Braille Research
Center suggest that the size of Braille volumes may be increased
by as little as three percent.
MYTH 9.
     UBC committee members are monetarily reimbursed for their
work on the project.
     REALITY. Most UBC committee members serve without monetary
reward. Some meeting-related expenses are reimbursed. Consultants
are occasionally employed, and some agencies permit paid staff to
use work time for the project, where appropriate.
MYTH 10.
     Because the powers that be want it, the Unified Braille Code
is an inevitable eventual reality. 
     REALITY. There is no certainty that a Unified Braille Code
will ever be adopted. In the final analysis, the adoption or
rejection of the UBC will depend upon its ability to win the
approval of Braille readers. Those who will vote on the code--the
representatives of the member countries of the ICEB--will base
their decisions for or against the UBC on their sense of the
Braille community.


[PHOTO: Portrait. CAPTION: David Hyde.]

                        UP, UP, AND AWAY
                          by David Hyde

     From the Editor: People are forever making pronouncements
about things that blind people could not possibly be interested
in doing because, in their opinion, the entire pleasure or
interest of the activity is visual or accomplishing the task is
totally dependent on vision. Sky diving, bungy jumping,
sightseeing, playing an instrument in a marching band: the list
is almost endless. Let the activity be ever so slightly out of
the ordinary, and somebody undoubtedly believes that a blind
person has no business taking part in it. And almost as certainly
there is at least one blind person who has already enjoyed the
pastime. 
     Traveling in the gondola of a hot-air balloon is an
experience that falls into this category. I for one confess that
I am tired of listening to people tell me that there is no reason
why a blind person would enjoy such an adventure. Regardless of
such views, I still look forward to taking such a trip someday. 
     David Hyde, First Vice President of the National Federation
of the Blind of Oregon, shares my enthusiasm for this project.
The difference between us is that he has accomplished it. Reading
his description of the adventure makes me more insistent than
ever on having the experience for myself. Here is what he has to
say: 

     "I wonder how much a ride in one of those would cost?" I had
just heard a commercial on a local radio station for a hot air
balloon flying service. 
     "What do you mean?" my wife Nancy asked, sounding, I
thought, just a bit testy. "You'll never go up in one of those." 
     "You're probably right," I sighed, thinking of many other
things that needed to be done, and the fact that she'd already
said, and I had agreed, that we would not spend much money on
each other this Christmas. 
     A couple of weeks later, as I was marching in a Christmas
parade, a float went by which exuded warmth--a fine thing since
the temperature was in the mid-teens. "What was that?" I asked my
wife. "It sounds like the burner on one of those balloons." 
"I think it was the gas company float," she said. I shivered a
little more and wished I were riding on that float, rather than
carrying a sign for the Willamette Valley Jazz Society. 
     Christmas Eve came, and we opened presents. This represents
a compromise between us since I am perfectly willing to wait
until January or perhaps March to open them, while Nancy would
like to start some time in mid-September (or earlier), assuming
that someone was foolish enough to leave a wrapped parcel in her
vicinity. Among the shirts and socks and after-shave was a small
envelope containing a gift certificate for one hot-air balloon
ride and champagne brunch from Balloon Flying Service of Salem,
Oregon. These were the people whose float had warmed our hearts--
and briefly the rest of us--during the parade. "When I bought
this," reported my spouse, "I asked Shirley, the woman who took
my call, if her pilot was good at describing things." Shirley
said that he was and that he did it constantly for passengers.
"He'd better be," quipped my better half; "my husband is blind." 
     "We've never taken up a blind person," responded the
ebullient Shirley; "It should be an interesting experience." So,
at 5:30 on a lovely Willamette Valley morning, I was at Cooley's
Iris Gardens, together with my wife (who remained firmly affixed
to terra firma) and several friends who came to see me off. We
met Jim, the pilot, and his wife Shirley as well as my fellow
passengers, Dan and Karen from British Columbia. Jim took a few
minutes to explain the process of inflating the balloon and,
after a tarpaulin had been spread, handed me a rope. The balloon
felt like a living thing as it filled with air, tugged this way
and that by morning breezes. As the volume of air in the balloon
increased, the tugs became less playful and more serious. Finally
Jim shut down the fan and climbed into the basket. "This is going
to be a little loud," he said; "be ready to put your weight on
the basket." It felt like hanging on to a very large dog, like
trying to keep a St. Bernard from chasing a cat. "Weight on the
basket," said Jim, and we all transferred weight to the wicker
and leather construction. "Climb in," ordered Jim, and we all put
a foot in the stirrup, grabbed the overhead bar, and landed on
the basket floor.
     "I am required to give you a safety briefing," Jim said
between roars from the propane. "Do not leave the basket at any
time." I wondered if anyone had ever tried that at a thousand
feet and decided not to ask. "If there is a problem during the
flight, let me deal with it. If I need help, I'll ask for it. The
controls belong to me. You can hold on to anything that's brown."
End of safety briefing. No safety information card, no emergency
exits, no waiting for the runway to clear. "Let go," said Jim to
his crew of three, which was augmented by my wife and friends.
Whoosh went the propane. Roar went the flames, and up gently,
gently went the balloon.
     At about four hundred feet Jim said, "That's some of the
iris garden to your left. The blooms are pretty much gone, but it
was lovely earlier in the month. Below is a field of alfalfa, and
that (pointing off to our right) is a field of barley, or oats,
or wheat, I can't tell them apart." 
     We drifted southwest toward Salem. Below was a field of
strawberries being picked. "Are the berries getting soft?" called
Jim from our floating basket. 
     "Yes, very soft now," responded a voice from below. The
picker sounded as if he were no more than ten feet away. 
     My fellow passengers also provided good information. "The
people look like ants," said Karen, "and look at the size of the
cars!" While she looked, I listened to their explanations of what
we were passing over and, more fascinating, the sounds drifting
up from below. A rooster announced his feelings about life in
general in the time-honored manner of roosters. He did so
frequently and enthusiastically. He slowly drifted astern at our
speed of six knots or so. Dogs let us know that they were not
pleased with our brief visit to their private domains. It was
easy to follow our flight path by listening to the canine
population of the countryside. 
     As our altitude increased, the sound of traffic gradually
attenuated, although it was easy to tell when we crossed a road.
At one point the chase car called to ask where we were. "We're
drifting southwest," said Jim. "We'll probably land somewhere
near the airport." 
     "I'm out on Fruitland Road," responded Shirley. "Guess I'd
better start heading south." 
     We weren't alone in the sky. Other balloons, at the extreme
range of vision, could be seen as little dots on the haze line
some ten or twelve miles away. Aircraft flew their noisy path
well above us, making me wonder why, if someone had a choice on
such a morning, they would choose to fly in something that noisy.
Perhaps they had a definite destination. I felt sorry for them as
we floated there at the whim of the morning breeze. Memories came
back of early mornings on lakes when my best friend and I would
tow an old boat down to the lake by hand (neither of us had a
car) and float out to a quiet cove for a day of fishing. The
fishing was an excuse, of course, for the solitude of the lake,
and this lake of air in which I was suspended carried the same
restful peace as those mornings near the Oregon coast. 
     Alas, one cannot drift forever. "Salem tower," said Jim into
his radio, "hot air balloon 360. We are probably going to land
near the end of runway 31. What are your surface winds?"
     "Surface winds are 360 degrees at five," replied the tower.
And, with the propane making its now familiar sound, we began our
descent.
     I had expected some feeling of going down, perhaps the way
you feel in an elevator or at least a sense of slowly falling.
There was nothing. Floating is, after all, floating. "Hold on,"
said Jim; "we'll bounce a few times." And bounce we did, although
no harder than most of the commercial aircraft landings I have
experienced and much softer than a few. And again, bounce, and
again, as our speed damped out over an empty field. 
     "You overshot the airport," Shirley informed us needlessly.
"We'll be there in a couple of minutes." And, sure enough, they
were grabbing ropes as Jim let off the air in the balloon.
Eventually we left the basket, still lending our weight to keep
it on the ground. The balloon gradually lost its air and caused
the whole structure to subside gently to earth. We began packing
the balloon away and then the basket, both of which we returned
to the van for transport back to the launch site.
     "You came back," said my wife, sounding, I thought, just a
bit disappointed. "How was it?"
     "You would have loved it," I assured her. "You couldn't even
tell you were in the air. Kind of like being in a tall building,
except everyone is moving the scenery around you."
     "Too high for me," my faithful spouse declared. "But you
know, maybe in the snow. I might just do it. Think about it!
Moonlight, white snow...." 
     "Minus fifteen degrees," I thought, "warm coats, gloves,
brr! Still that propane does keep you nice and warm. Hmmm, maybe
in January. After all, she did tell me once that it would be a
cold day somewhere before she'd go up in one of those balloons."









                 ******************************
     If you or a friend would like to remember the National Federation of the
Blind in your will, you can do so by employing the following language:
     "I give, devise, and bequeath unto National Federation of the Blind,
1800 Johnson Street, Baltimore, Maryland 21230, a District of Columbia
nonprofit corporation, the sum of $_____ (or "_____ percent of my net estate"
or "The following stocks and bonds: _____") to be used for its worthy purposes
on behalf of blind persons."
                 ******************************
                    MEETING WITH JUDY HEUMANN
                       by Kenneth Jernigan

     On October 5, 1993, Carl Augusto, President and Executive
Director of the American Foundation for the Blind; Barbara
McCarthy, President-Elect of AER (the Association for Education
and Rehabilitation of the Blind and Visually Impaired) and
Director of the Instructional Materials and Resource Center of
the Virginia Department for the Visually Handicapped; LeRoy
Saunders, President of the American Council of the Blind; and I
met with Judy Heumann, the Assistant Secretary for the Office of
Special Education and Rehabilitative Services of the federal
Department of Education. We met to discuss programs providing
services for the blind. This meeting had been in the making for
quite some time. When it was first discussed, I told both Carl
Augusto and LeRoy Saunders in separate conversations that I
wanted to think about the implications of the meeting before
agreeing to participate in it. There was and is no question that
the blindness field is in trouble and that cooperative action is
desirable when it has any chance of success, but I wanted to feel
reasonably certain that the meeting was likely to be positive and
not counterproductive.
     Prior to going to see Ms. Heumann, we met at the Washington
offices of the American Foundation for the Blind. The atmosphere
was friendly. No one tried to dominate or take control, and we
reached unanimous agreement concerning the topics to be
discussed.
     When we went to Ms. Heumann's office, Carl Augusto began
with some brief comments about the purpose of the visit. We then
discussed the statement on "full inclusion" adopted by the
members of the Committee on Joint Organizational Effort. (That
statement is printed as part of this article.) Next we talked
about the need to continue specialized services for the blind as
opposed to generic programs, which lump all types of disability
groups together in a general mulligan stew. A document entitled
"Specialized Rehabilitation Services for Blind and Visually
Impaired Persons: A Position Statement" has been prepared by a
committee chaired by James Gashel, Director of Governmental
Affairs of the National Federation of the Blind. That document,
which has been approved by all of the organizations that
participate in the Committee on Joint Organizational Effort, was
discussed in substance and is also printed as part of this
article.
     One of the things I repeatedly emphasized during the meeting
was the problem which all agencies and organizations of and for
the blind are having when they apply for grants from the various
agencies of the Department of Education. The applications are
often rejected on the grounds that they deal with only one
disability group. This is not a requirement of the law, and Ms.
Heumann said she would look into it.
     Various other points were made, but the real significance of
the meeting is probably the fact that it occurred. There are
issues on which the various participants undoubtedly disagree,
and we should not assume that all problems have been solved.
However, Carl Augusto, Barbara McCarthy, and LeRoy Saunders were
friendly and positive in their dealings with me and indicated a
wish for future cooperation. Actions, of course, mean more than
words; and the meeting with Judy Heumann was an important
milestone on the road to unity in the blindness field. If the
individuals and organizations comprising the constituencies
represented are willing to put the past behind them and truly
behave in the best interest of the blind, the future holds
promise. Otherwise, some very expensive lessons must be taught
and learned again.

                   Full Inclusion of Students
               Who Are Blind or Visually Impaired

                      A Position Statement

     "Full inclusion," a philosophical concept currently advanced
by a number of educators, is not a federal requirement of special
education law. Proponents of "full inclusion" nevertheless take
the position that all students with disabilities must receive
their total instruction in the regular public school classroom
regardless of individual needs. Unfortunately, "full inclusion"
would eliminate all special placements, including "pull out"
services, resource rooms and specialized schools. Such an
arrangement would be seriously detrimental to the educational
development of many students with disabilities.
     We, the national organizations of and for the blind listed
below, are firmly committed to appropriate educational
opportunities designed to provide students with the competencies
necessary to ensure full participation in society. It is
significant to recognize that our field was the first to develop
a broad range of special education options beginning with
specialized schools as early as 1829, and extending to public
school programs since 1900. These options have provided
critically important educational preparation for several
generations of highly successful and independent blind people.
Based on this long and impressive record of success in making
optimal use of both special and public school programs to meet
the diverse needs of blind students, we strongly agree upon the
following:
     If provided with timely and adequate specialized services by
appropriately certified teachers, students who are blind or
visually impaired can develop skills that will enable them to
achieve success and independence as responsible citizens in a
fully integrated society. If these students do not receive
appropriate instruction designed to develop competencies that
meet the sensory deficits of blindness and low vision, critical
learning opportunities will be lost, thus diminishing the
potential for future accomplishments. In this context, ample
opportunities for instruction in such areas as Braille, abacus,
orientation and mobility, and use of prescribed optical devices
must be made available to students, as needed.
     Educational decisions must be made on a case-by-case basis
consistent with the Individuals with Disabilities Education Act
(IDEA) which guarantees a Free Appropriate Public Education in
the "Least Restrictive Environment" (LRE) from among a "Full
Continuum of Alternative Placements," based on the Individual
Education Plan for each student. Educational decisions should not
be made simply on the basis of philosophy, limited school
budgets, administrative convenience, or concerns about
socialization.
     Full inclusion in regular education classrooms for all
students with disabilities irrespective of individual needs is in
sharp conflict with procedural guarantees of IDEA.
     Least Restrictive Environment and Full Continuum of
Alternative Placements are critically important IDEA provisions.
LRE is not one sole physical location. It is, rather, a
principle, which if properly applied, matches the need of the
student with an appropriate school setting which provides
meaningful challenges, realistic expectations, and maximum
opportunities for achievement and development of healthy
self-esteem.
     The regular education classroom may be considered the LRE if
the student possesses sufficient readiness and survival skills
and can be provided adequate supports, specialized services (from
personnel trained in education of the visually impaired), and
opportunities to develop skills commensurate with his or her
potential. Extreme caution must be exercised so that full
inclusion does not result in "full submersion," social isolation,
"lowered" self-esteem, poor performance, or a setting in which
services are unavailable.
     In cases where the needs of the student cannot be met in the
regular classrooms, an alternative education placement must be
provided and be recognized as the LRE for that particular
student. Such alternative placements should not be negatively
viewed as discriminatory or as "segregated" settings when
legitimately warranted to develop the needed skills for future
integration in school and society.
     Since it has been clearly demonstrated that blind children
benefit from interacting with disabled and non-disabled children,
both interaction opportunities should be fully encouraged in
whatever setting that is considered appropriate. We believe that
the mandate in IDEA which states that, "to the maximum extent
appropriate, children with disabilities [should be] educated with
children who are non-disabled," does not intend that blind
children avoid interaction with each other.
     We strongly urge that decision makers carefully consider and
be sensitive to the impact of reform initiatives on the education
of students with visual disabilities. Caution must be exercised
to insure that educational philosophy and trends such as full
inclusion do not seriously endanger appropriate and specialized
services for students who are blind or visually impaired. If
properly implemented, IDEA can provide legal safeguards to insure
that all individual children can realize their full potential for
independence and success.

American Council of the Blind
American Foundation for the Blind
Association for Education and Rehabilitation of the Blind and
     Visually Impaired
Blinded Veterans Association
Canadian Council of the Blind
Canadian National Institute for the Blind
National Federation of the Blind
National Library Service for the Blind and Physically Handicapped
                      ____________________

             Specialized Rehabilitation Services for
               Blind and Visually Impaired Persons

                      A Position Statement

     The Americans with Disabilities Act and other laws enacted
in recent years in the United States and Canada represent
enlightened disability policy. However, the noticeable trend to
define "disability" as an overarching generic condition for
purposes of program design, administration, and funding is
pernicious in its effect upon rehabilitation services for
children and adults who are blind or visually impaired. 
     It is the common experience of the agencies and
organizations that have joined in this statement that
specialized, comprehensive rehabilitation services and essential
changes in social attitudes about blindness do not occur when
rehabilitation services for the blind are provided through a
single program which serves both blind and disabled persons. This
is so in large part because the characteristics and distinctive
needs of the blind become lost amid much larger issues and
populations and because specialized services are overshadowed by
diverse, unrelated goals. 
     The accomplishment of individualized rehabilitation goals
can be achieved in an efficient, consumer-responsive manner when
blind people have access to an agency dedicated to providing
blindness-specific services. Such an agency must be
administratively identifiable and have qualified personnel
especially trained to serve the blind. Accountability for program
results is strengthened by this organizational structure and
staffing since accomplishment of specific objectives for a
defined target population of manageable size can readily be
measured. When program results fail to merit support, blind
consumers and their advocates or the professionals who serve them
can make focused efforts to insist upon improvements. 
          Promoting more enlightened social attitudes about
blindness is an indispensable goal of specialized services for
the blind. To achieve this unique goal competent personnel,
including blind persons serving as role models in both staff and
volunteer capacities, must be assigned to teach blindness-related
alternative techniques. Blind individuals require comprehensive
and often complex rehabilitation services in areas such as
adjustment training, independent mobility, Braille, and the use
of assistive technology to meet their particular information
needs resulting from vision loss. Most importantly, they must
develop confidence, which is a prerequisite to effective use of
these skills in daily life. 
     Laws pertaining to "people with disabilities" as a class may
appropriately be general if the purpose is to prohibit
discrimination or to identify individual rights. However,
rehabilitation programs and the laws which authorize them have a
far more precise mission. When services for the blind are
submerged into broad disability programs precision is sacrificed
for generality, and comprehensive, consumer-responsive services
for blind individuals are lost. 
     This position statement has been unanimously adopted by
national agencies and organizations in the United States and
Canada which represent those who provide services for persons who
are blind or visually impaired and those who are the elected
representatives of the blind. We are firmly committed to the
provision of specialized rehabilitation services for blind
persons by identifiable agencies especially established to serve
them. We urge program administrators, lawmakers, and other public
officials to follow the principles expressed in this statement.


[PHOTO: Family portrait. CAPTION: Robert, Connie, and Seth
Leblond.]

                             RECIPES

     The recipes this month are from the National Federation of
the Blind of Maine.

                         QUICHE LORRAINE
                        by Connie Leblond

     Connie Leblond is the President of the NFB of Maine.

Ingredients:
9-inch unbaked pie crust
12 slices bacon, crumbled
1 cup shredded Swiss cheese
þ cup chopped onion
4 eggs
1« cup half-and-half
þ teaspoon salt
¬ teaspoon pepper
red pepper (optional)

     Method: Sprinkle bacon, cheese, and onion on bottom of
unbaked pie crust. In bowl beat eggs slightly. Beat in remaining
ingredients. Pour liquid over mixture in pie plate. Cook
uncovered in 425-degree oven for 15 minutes. Reduce heat to 300
and continue baking for 30 minutes. Quiche is done when knife
inserted near center comes out clean. Let dish stand a few
minutes before serving. 

                      MORNING GLORY MUFFINS
                        by Connie Leblond

Ingredients:
« cup raisins, soaked in hot water for 30 minutes (drained
thoroughly)
2 cups flour
1 cup sugar
2 teaspoons baking soda
2 teaspoons cinnamon
¬ teaspoon salt
2 cups shredded carrots
1 large apple, grated
« cup chopped nuts
« cup shredded coconut
3 eggs
þ cup oil
2 teaspoons vanilla

     Method: Mix dry ingredients in large bowl. Stir in raisins,
carrots, apple, nuts, and coconut. In separate bowl beat eggs,
oil, and vanilla. Add to flour mixture. Blend just enough to
moisten dry ingredients. Pour into 12 large muffin cups and bake
in 350-degree oven for 20 to 22 minutes.

                      REAL SEAFOOD CHOWDER
                        by Robert Leblond

     Bob Leblond is Connie's husband and an active member of the
NFB of Maine in his own right.

Ingredients:
8 ounces sea scallops
8 ounces medium shrimp, peeled and deveined
12 ounces white fish (haddock is best)
8 ounces crabmeat
1 large onion, chopped
2 medium potatoes
« stick butter
2 cups water
2 cups milk
1 cup heavy cream
« teaspoon salt
¬ teaspoon pepper

     Method: In large saucepan melt butter and fry onions 5 to 7
minutes, or until light brown on edges. Slice potatoes into 1-
inch cubes. Do not peel. Add water, potatoes, salt, pepper, and
all seafood to onions and butter. Bring to a boil. Cover and
simmer 25 to 30 minutes, until potatoes are tender. Slowly stir
in milk and cream. Heat through, but do not boil. Serve with
freshly baked bread. Truly a meal fit for a king! Serves 4 to 6
royal siblings.

                HOW TO EAT LOBSTER LIKE A MAINER
                        by Robert Leblond

     In Maine one of our biggest laughs comes from watching
people "from away" as they attempt to eat a steamed lobster
(exciting, eh?). As a service to Federationists who might some
day come to visit our state, I propose to explain to you the
official way to eat this most wondrous food.

     1. The cooked lobster must be placed on its back.
     2. Remove small legs (there are eight), and suck out their
juice and meat.
     3. Remove claws one at a time by twisting. Drink the juice
from the claws, and crack claws with a nutcracker to get to the
meat.
     4. Remove tail from body by twisting, and remove the central
tail fin.
     5. Using your thumb or index finger, push the tail meat out
of the shell.
     6. Split the tail lengthwise by hand, and remove the sand
vein (bowel). The sand vein runs the entire length of the tail. 
     7. Pull inner body out of shell.
     8. The liver of the lobster is sometimes discarded and
sometimes refrigerated for later use on crackers, much the same
as caviar.
     9. Separate the cartilage in the body to find many small and
tasty pieces of meat. At 5 or 6 bucks a pound, the most important
rule is "waste nothing." Now, when you are next in Maine, you
will be able to eat a lobster, passing for a native, and we'll
never tell!

     Editor's note: Don't believe him! Even Maine residents wear
bibs when they enter a battle with a lobster, and restaurants arm
diners with weapons designed, one presumes, to equalize the odds.
But my experience is that, unless one arranges for a coach to
provide advice and moral support, the lobster usually wins. Mr.
Leblond makes it sound easy, but my advice is that you make a
date to take him or Connie to dinner with you when you go to
Maine.

                    FUDGE NUT BROWNIE COOKIES
                        by Connie Leblond

Ingredients:
1 21« ounce package brownie mix
« cup flour
« cup water
¬ cup oil
1 egg
6 ounces semi-sweet chocolate chips
1 cup walnuts or peanuts, chopped 

     Method: Heat oven to 350 degrees and grease cookie sheet.
Combine mix, flour, water, oil, and egg. Stir with spoon to form
dough. Stir in chips and nuts. Drop by rounded teaspoonfuls, two
inches apart. Bake for 8 to 12 minutes. Cool for one minute, then
remove from cookie sheet, and cool before serving. Makes 3 dozen.

                          BREAD PUDDING
                         by Seth Leblond

     Seth is a member of the NFB of Maine and the son of Connie
and Bob Leblond. This is one of Seth's favorite recipes to make.
He believes that in the Leblond household he makes it best.

Ingredients:
4 slices of white bread
2 tablespoons butter, softened
þ cup brown sugar
« teaspoon cinnamon
þ cup raisins
3 eggs, slightly beaten
þ cup sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla
dash salt
2« cups milk, scalded

     Method: Heat oven to 350 degrees. Toast bread slices
lightly. Spread with butter and sprinkle with brown sugar and
cinnamon. Cut each slice into quarters. Arrange pieces, sugar-
side up, in buttered casserole dish. Sprinkle with raisins. Mix
eggs, sugar, vanilla, and salt. Slowly stir in milk, making sure
not to cook the eggs. Pour over bread and raisins. Place
casserole dish in square pan on oven rack. Pour about one inch
very hot water into square pan. Bake 65 to 70 minutes. Serve
warm. Makes 6 to 8 servings.

                      SLOPPY JOE CASSEROLE
                         by Hope Leblond

     Hope is Bob's and Connie's daughter and a member of the NFB
of Maine.

Ingredients:
1 8-ounce package shell macaroni
1 envelope Sloppy Joe seasoning mix
1 pound ground chuck
1 6-ounce can tomato paste
1 8-ounce can tomato sauce
1¬ cups water
2 8-ounce cartons creamed cottage cheese
« cup grated cheddar cheese

     Method: Cook macaroni according to package directions and
drain. Meanwhile prepare seasoning mix with ground chuck, tomato
paste, tomato sauce, and water, as seasoning package label
directs. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. In 2«-quart casserole dish,
layer half the macaroni, half the cottage cheese, and half the
meat sauce. Then repeat with the remaining macaroni, cottage
cheese, and meat sauce. Top with cheddar cheese. Bake uncovered
for 40 to 50 minutes. Serves 6.



                   * * MONITOR MINIATURES * *

[PHOTO: Portrait. CAPTION: Bill Meeker, Cheryl Orgas, and
Christopher William Meeker.]

**New Baby:
     We were recently notified that Christopher William Meeker
was born to Cheryl Orgas and Bill Meeker on October 8, 1993,
weighing seven pounds, thirteen ounces; and was twenty-one inches
long. Both Cheryl and Bill are leaders in the Wisconsin
affiliate. Congratulations to the entire Meeker family. 


**Assistance from Mature Blind People Needed:
     We have been asked to carry the following announcement by a
psychologist doing research:
     For an anthology of letters, "What I Did For Love," I would
appreciate hearing from men and women, age fifty and older,
describing the balance they have achieved between reward and
sacrifice in the interest of another person (a partner, a parent,
a child, a sibling) or a group of people (volunteer activity) or
in the interest of a career. Letters will be treated with
absolute confidentiality. Please include your age and sex. Send
information to Miriam Harris, Ph.D., "...For Love" Research, P.O.
Box 16660, Beverly Hills, California 90209.

**Tapes For Sale:
     We have been asked to carry the following announcement:
     I am a blind singer and guitarist. I have just produced my
first album on tape. It contains songs in both English and
Spanish. I wrote six of the songs myself, and my father wrote two
others. The rest were written by other Cuban composers. I do the
singing and guitar work, and two other blind people back me up
with music on the tape. I sell these tapes for $5 each. I can
receive correspondence in any format, and checks should be made
payable to me. Send to Hazel Trujillo, 6760 S.W. 78 Terrace,
Miami, Florida 33143.

**Handbook of Braille Contractions Still Available:
     Have you ever wished that you had a sensibly organized,
easy-to-use list of all the Grade II Braille contractions? The
American Action Fund has exactly what you need, and, best of all,
it's free. A Handbook of Braille Contractions, compiled by Harry
Schuchman, is available in Twin Visionþ format from the American
Action Fund for Blind Children and Adults, 18440 Oxnard Street,
Tarzana, California 91356.

**MetLife Offers Large-Print Policies:
     We have been asked to carry the following announcement:
     The MetLife Insurance Company has created a new large-print
insurance policy. These policies will now be available on special
request for new policies and on an individual basis for existing
policies to customers who are in need of this service. For more
information about this new program or to have current policies
considered for enlargement, please contact your MetLife sales
representative or call 1-800-MET LIFE.
     Large-print life insurance policies are currently available
in the states of Illinois, Indiana, Iowa, Kansas, Michigan,
Minnesota, Missouri, Nebraska, North Dakota, Ohio, South Dakota,
West Virginia, and Wisconsin.

**Trading Card With a Twist:
     Those who frequently visit the National Center for the Blind
have probably met Mike Kelly, a contractor who works on our
paging system. Mike is a hot-air balloon enthusiast--in fact,
when he got married, the ceremony was performed in the gondola of
a balloon high in the air. His wife Rosemarie shares Mike's
passion for hot-air balloons; in fact she is a licensed pilot.
Recently a series of hot-air balloon trading cards, like the old
baseball cards that came in packages of bubble gum, has been
created to honor pilots and their balloons. One of the cards is
particularly interesting. It reads: 

Card: 318
Balloon: Crack the Sky
Pilot: Rosemarie Kelly
Type: Raven S-55A
State: Maryland

     Rose was one of four pilots chosen for filming at AIBF in
1992 for "Year of the Pilot" by Patrick Murphy. Her balloon flies
the flag and banner of the National Federation of the Blind. Rose
finished third in the first race she ever flew in! Crew chief for
Crack the Sky is Mike Kelly.
     Produced by Hot Aire Trading Cards, Inc., Albuquerque, New
Mexico; (505) 296-3086.

     It's good to know that the National Federation of the Blind
can be found everywhere, even in the sky.

**Social Security Administration Issues New Publication for the
Blind:
     A new large-print publication, If You Are Blind...How Social
Security and SSI Can Help, makes it easier for people who are
blind to learn about their rights and responsibilities under the
Social Security Disability Insurance (SSDI) and Supplemental
Security Income (SSI) programs. The publication explains the
differences between the two programs, how to qualify for help
under each, and various provisions that may apply once an
individual is a beneficiary.
     To be considered blind under Social Security's medical
definition, an individual must have vision that cannot be
corrected beyond 20/200 in the better eye even with a corrective
lens or have a visual field of 20 degrees or less. Many
individuals whose vision meets this legal definition of blindness
still have some sight and may be able to read large print.
     For visually impaired beneficiaries who want to work, the
new publication describes work incentive provisions under the
SSDI and SSI programs. These provisions allow beneficiaries to
work and continue to collect benefits while they attempt to
become self-sufficient. The publication highlights Social
Security rules that provide for continued cash payments and
continuing help with medical bills, work expenses, and
rehabilitation and planning for a new career.
     The new publication is also available in recorded form and
in Braille. In addition to information about Social Security work
incentives, it lists other Social Security publications available
in Braille and recorded on cassette tape. Copies may be ordered
from any Social Security office or by calling the toll-free
telephone number, 1-800-772-1213, any business day between 7:00
a.m. and 7:00 p.m.

**1993 Convention Tapes Now Available:
     Two-track and four-track editions of the 1993 Convention of
the National Federation of the Blind are now available at a cost
of $25 each from the Materials Center, National Center for the
Blind, 1800 Johnson Street, Baltimore, Maryland 21230. Checks
should be made payable to National Federation of the Blind.

**For Sale:
     We have been asked to carry the following announcement:
     For sale one Optacon, in good condition, for the price of
$500. Please contact Robert Weber, Jr., 28 W. Main Street,
Lonaconing, Maryland 21539; or call (301) 463-2707.

**Tax Options & Strategies for People with Disabilities:
     We have been asked to carry the following announcement:
     Many provisions of the tax law are affected significantly by
disability. In the important new volume, Tax Options & Strategies
for People with Disabilities, a leading expert on the impact of
U.S. tax law on disabled individuals provides a straightforward
and practical guide that will assist people with disabilities to
take maximum advantage of the current tax law for a range of
services and purchases, including assistive technology, attendant
services, work-related expenses, and much more.
     Every reader will come away with information and insights
that will be of practical financial benefit next April 15th and
on many April 15ths to come. All statements are referenced for
research by tax professionals. Practical issues dealing with all
aspects of the tax code as it relates to disability are
considered. The book logically progresses from a discussion of
the overall tax system, its underlying logic, and basic
terminology and tax planning considerations, through detailed
discussions of specific aspects of the tax law as they apply to
individuals with disabilities and their families. You will refer
to Tax Options and Strategies often--both when preparing your tax
forms and in all aspects of financial planning. The book is
available in softcover, $19.95; hardcover, $34.95; 3.5" disk
(specify Mac or DOS), $19.95; or cassette, $19.95. Send to Demos
Publications, 386 Park Avenue South, Suite 201, New York, New
York 10016; or call (212) 683-0072 or (800) 532-8663. You may
enclose a check or money order, choose to be billed, or charge to
VISA, MasterCard, or American Express.

**In Memoriam:
     Anne Thompson MacDonald, the founder of Recording for the
Blind, a nonprofit organization that has put more than 80,000
books on tapes for blind and learning-disabled students since
1948, died on October 9 at a nursing home in Huntington, Long
Island. She was ninety-six and had lived in Manhattan.
     She died in her sleep, said her daughter, Anne Thomas.
     Mrs. MacDonald started the recording service while working
for the Women's Auxiliary of the New York Public Library. She was
inspired by a program that provided recordings for blind veterans
attending college on the G.I. Bill of Rights.
     She established a recording studio in a two-room office on
West 44th Street in 1951 and became president of Recording for
the Blind in 1952. That year she persuaded friends to establish
other studios in Los Angeles; Phoenix; Denver; Chicago; Oak
Ridge, Tennessee; and Athens, Georgia.
     The organization, now based in Princeton, New Jersey, has
grown to thirty-two studios in sixteen states, with about 4,000
volunteers making recordings of fiction and non-fiction books for
students from the fifth grade to graduate school. Last year about
33,000 people requested copies of the recordings.
     In May 1988, she was awarded an honorary doctorate from Yale
University for her volunteer work. She was the wife of Ranald H.
MacDonald, a governor of the New York Stock Exchange, who died in
1988.

[PHOTO: Portrait. CAPTION: Catherine Horn Randall.]

**Named to Serve:
     We recently received the following press release:
     Catherine Horn Randall has been elected to the MacMurray
College Board of Trustees. She is a graduate of the college, and
assumed her duties when the board met Friday, October 1.
     "The future success of any college depends upon its ability
to attract outstanding women and men to volunteer to serve on its
board," MacMurray President Edward J. Mitchell said in announcing
the new board member. "MacMurray has been very fortunate to
obtain the services of Cathy Randall."
     Mrs. Randall received her bachelor of arts degree in English
from MacMurray in 1969. She has taught in the North Greene and
Jacksonville School Districts. She was employed in the MacMurray
public relations office in the mid-1970's and has served two
three-year terms on the MacMurray Alumni Board, 1987-93.
     The new MacMurray trustee served as Jacksonville alderwoman,
1987-91, and currently serves as first vice president of the
National Federation of the Blind of Illinois. She is a member of
the State Library Advisory Council; the Blind Services Planning
Council for the Department of Rehabilitation Services; and the
History Class, a community women's literary society. In the fall
of 1989 Mrs. Randall was presented MacMurray's Distinguished
Alumna of the Year Award. She and her husband, Bob, live in
Jacksonville. Mrs. Randall is an Alumni Association
representative on the board.

**Newsletter Available:
     We have been asked to carry the following announcement:
     A national newsletter is now available for blind people who
currently raise goats or who are interested in doing so. It is
being offered in Braille and on cassette tape. There are plans
for a large-print version soon. Blind people in New York are
already receiving it, and a number of 4-H leaders have expressed
interest in subscribing. Subscriptions are free, but those
wishing to receive the newsletter on cassette tape should
consider sending a cassette on which it can be recorded. For more
information contact Stephanie Pieck, Garden Apartment 27-3-6, 953
Danby Road, Ithaca, New York 14850-7227; or call (607) 275-2517.

**Elected:
     The National Federation of the Blind of Maine recently held
its annual election, and the results are Connie Leblond,
President; Mike Jacobus, Vice President; Patricia Estes,
Secretary; and Bob Leblond, Treasurer. Robbie McIninch, Mickey
Swift, and Bruce Westfall were elected to serve on the board.

**Champion Goat:
     Stephanie Pieck, a new member of the National Federation of
the Blind of New York, writes to report that in July, she
competed at the American Dairy Goat Association's national show
held in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. She entered ten animals and did
very well. One of her does, Dayspring Hope's Promise, was chosen
National Junior Champion Nubian. To the best of her knowledge,
this is the first time a blind person has had a national champion
doe. Next year the national show will be held in Nebraska, and
Stephanie hopes to compete. Congratulations and good luck to
Stephanie.

[PHOTO: Portrait. CAPTION: Joan Davis (1931-1993).

**In Memoriam:
     Billie Weaver, a long-time member of the National Federation
of the Blind of Missouri, recently wrote to notify us of the
death on June 7, 1993, of Joan Davis, one of the leaders of the
NFB of Missouri. She was instrumental in founding the St. Joseph
Chapter and in building the Springfield Chapter. In the mid-
sixties she attended the Iowa Commission for the Blind's Adult
Rehabilitation program. Dr. Jernigan was the director of the
Commission at the time, and Joan was Mrs. Jernigan's first
student. Joan will be deeply missed.

**For Sale:
     We have been asked to carry the following announcement:
     I would like to offer the following two items for sale: a
copy of American Standard Hymns in New York Point, good
condition; and a Banks Pocket Brailler in fair condition with
extra paper tape. I will entertain offers on both items. Contact
David C. Allen, Route 8, Box 26, Harrisonburg, Virginia 22801, in
Grade I or II Braille, cassette, or IBM disk, E-mail at
D.ALLEN38@GENIE.GEIS.COM; or by telephone between 9:00 a.m. and
6:00 p.m. Eastern time at (703) 433-1715.

**Braille Printers Available:
     We have been asked to carry the following announcement:
     For a limited time only, Access Systems International Ltd.
(ASI) is offering the Everest-D Braille printer, including
Megadots Braille translation software at a special introductory
price of $4,500. We are also offering Index Basic Braille printer
(with Megadots) for $2,950. For more information please contact
ASI at 415 English Avenue, Monterey, California 93940; or call or
fax (408) 375-5313.

[PHOTO/CAPTION: Hazel Staley (left), George Best, and Mabel
Conder display their Clarence Collins Award plaques.]

**North Carolina Convention and Awards:
     The National Federation of the Blind of North Carolina held
its annual convention in Fayetteville September 10-12, 1993. At
the banquet on Saturday evening, November 11, Clarence Collins
Awards were presented to Hazel Staley, Mabel Conder, and George
Best for their long, dedicated service in building the affiliate
to be one of the strongest in the nation. All three recipients
joined the affiliate in 1969 when it was reorganized. Since that
time until their retirement in 1992 all three have held various
offices at the local and state level. In 1992 Staley retired as
state President, Conder as state Secretary, and Best as state
Treasurer. They maintain emphatically that they have not retired
from the Federation. All three are still very active in the
Charlotte chapter.
     Clarence Collins was the affiliate's first President. He
retired in 1972. The Collins Award, established in 1989, is
presented only when the state board of directors determines that
a member has earned it. It is similar to the national
organization's tenBroek Award.