more thoughts on discrimination

I do believe that all of us, blind, black, gay, white, female or from Mars are faced with some level of discrimination.  You are too young.  You are too old.  Too tall.  Too short.  Too much education.  Not enough education.  Not enough experience.  Too much experience. 

God, the list is endless. 

But of course there are the Polly Anna's who look at the world through rose colored glasses. 

During my years directing the Orientation and Training Center, Equal to the number of students who came to me grumbling about the unfairness of discrimination were the ones who gave me the wide eyed innocent look and said, "Why I've never been discriminated against."  My stock retort was, "Then try going outside your little shell." 

But some of them didn't know discrimination when it hit them in the face. 

For example, we, the Center staff, took the students on the famous Underground Tour of old Seattle.  We arrived at the ticket window and the fellow at the counter said, "I'm only charging you blind people half price".  The students were elated.  I said, "Wait a minute.  We take up just as much space as sighted customers and just as much effort on the part of the tour guide.  Maybe even more, since they'll need to give us more detailed description." 

"But you can't see.  And that is most of the enjoyment of this tour," he said. 

"We pay full fare or we will go do something else," I declared.  He took our money.  And the rest of the week, and for weeks after that, I got chewed out by the students for forcing them to pay full fare.  Their main argument was, "We're blind and things are tough enough, therefore we deserve a few perks in life".  "Is this the road to becoming equal, first class citizens?" I asked. 

So,despite their loud protests,  I told them the story of the young secretary who loved to have doors opened for her, packages carried for her, and gentlemen paying for her meals.  She was secretary to the mayor of Spokane and I operated the snack bar in the lobby of city hall.  One evening just at quitting time she came storming past my counter, smoke pouring out of her ears. 

"Something wrong?" I queried. 

"I just get fed up," she stammered.  "Those guys sit around all day while we work our fingers to the bone and then at the last minute they tell us that we have to get these documents out tonight.  Even if it takes us all night.  They could care less about my life" 

"Well," I replied, "Now you are learning about discrimination.  This is the price you pay for allowing yourself to  have doors opened and packages carried for you. " 

Well, she didn't speak to me for about a week.  But later we talked about things like perception. 

But back to discrimination of us blind folk.  Some of us must deny that it occurs, just for our own survival.  Some of us feel that it is the cross we must bear.  Some of us figure it's just one other problem we need to work around in order to get down the road, which is the position I prefer. 

And there is one other thought.  Some blind people have been raised in such a sheltered, protected padded cell, that they can't sense when someone is offering regular help or when they are being discriminated against. 

Like, when someone pushes the elevator button for me.  I just naturally know if they are being generally helpful or if they think I am helpless.  I seldom miss. 

 

Curious Carl