snits and fits

I wrote this back around 2001 or 2002. 

 

  SNITS AND FITS

by

Carl Jarvis

"Don't get in a snit," my mother used to say, when she'd see my face all puckered up in disappointment. But her favorite expression was, "Why don't you throw a fit and fall in it?" In some parts of the country folks have a, "Hissy Fit". But the best of all is when we throw a, "Snit-Fit". "Who, Me?" you ask. Yes you, and me. We all do some of it.

For the past several months I've been involved in a couple of chat groups on E Voice, the telephones answer to E Mail. From all corners of America large numbers of blind people are using E Voice to network, exchange information, share dreams, develop new friendships, and yes, to throw snit-fits. A goodly amount of time is given over to venting our indignation and outrage.

A woman caller, her voice still seething, relates that she and her sighted husband visited a local restaurant for dinner. Upon placing her order she requested that her food be cut up in the kitchen. The waitress loudly announced that neither the cook nor she had the time to do that. "That's what you have a husband for", she declared.

The caller was outraged and promptly threw a fit and fell in it. How dare they refuse her request, and just who were they to tell her what she had a husband for. Then she ordered the waitress to comply. The ensuing standoff caused the woman to believe she was discriminated against and that the restaurant failed to provide her reasonable accommodation. She felt she should file a complaint under the Americans with Disabilities Act(ADA).

A young man grumbled into the phone that his Vocational Rehabilitation Counselor(VRC) refused to purchase him a Braille "N" Speak for use in note taking during college. "They don't care if I make it or not," he complained. "If I fail it won't be on my head."

During a lengthy discussion on how we, as blind people, should respond to questions and comments by the sighted public, a very angry lady shouted, "I'm sick and tired of answering the same stupid questions over and over. Why do I always have to play the teacher? I don't go around asking Them stupid, nosey questions."

And so it goes, story after story of blind people being abused, neglected or misunderstood. It's just one snit-fit after another. "If you think you have anything to grumble about, hey! listen to what happened to me..."

Like I said, certainly there are times when all of us feel picked on, put upon or just plain pushed around. But what is troubling are the numbers; the vast multitude of voices spilling out their tales of woe and misery, and the small number of folks offering reasoned advice, counsel and instruction. What it tells me is that in our blind community nation-wide, there is a growing sense that we are disenfranchised, hopelessly cut off, with no recourse but to complain. And in our complaining we have no expectation of anything ever coming of it.

When I was a boy someone said to me, "If you're going to be a man, act like one". I was probably having a snit at the time. Anyway, growing up to be a man turned out to be a life-time job. But I am where I am in the process by observing and copying those attributes that I desired to see in myself. It seems reasonable to me that if we blind people want to be First Class Citizens we ought to begin by playing the part. In my minds eye I hold up an image of me, as an equal participant in my community. I visualize how I want to conduct myself and how I see others responding to me. As time passes I shape this image, adding or improving, as my understanding and ability expand. Taking responsibility for my actions is probably as good a place to start as I know.

When we have a snit-fit we are playing the role of the victim. "Poor me, I'm unloved and misunderstood." Sometimes it's very tempting, just to be out of control. "It's not my fault. They're the ones to blame." But if that's the part we choose to play, we cannot expect others to treat us as equals. Victims are to be pitied and given handouts. You don't ever hear anyone say, "Hey, my lucky day. I hired a very highly qualified victim to head up my sales staff"; or, "He was such a pathetic victim I just knew he'd make a wonderful husband".

Can it be that in our culture the words "Blind" and Victim" are synonymous? If true, it would go a long way toward explaining some of our "knee jerk" response. A simple act of kindness, "Here dear, let me show you your seat", will be seen by a victim as condescending. "Get your hands off me! I don't need no help".

The victim is always out of control. Relationships are always unequal. But if we remove the word "Victim" and insert "Different", making "Blind" and Different" synonymous, we create a more neutral relationship. "Here dear, let me show you your seat", becomes a gesture of kindness. "Why, thank you so very much."

Establishing ourselves in the role of "Different" calls for building a new mental image of who we are. It is now possible to be "different, but equal". Being different carries with it considerable responsibility. We do find ourselves in the role of teacher. We are the experts in being different, therefore it is on our shoulders to educate others as to what exactly "different" means. We expect people not to know about us and we take great pleasure in explaining all about our differences. We are in the business of bringing our sighted partners up to speed in what blindness is all about.

Of course, being human we reserve the right to throw a little snit-fit from time to time.