---------- Forwarded message ----------
From: Carl Jarvis via acb-chat <acb-chat@acblists.org>
Date: Tue, 30 Jan 2018 05:34:14 +0000
Subject: [acb-chat] Thoughts from a teleconference
To: "General discussion list for ACB members and friends where a wide
range of topics from blindness to politics, issues of the day or
whatever comes to mind are welcome. This is a free form discussion
list." <acb-chat@acblists.org>
Cc: Carl Jarvis <carjar82@gmail.com>
We spent this morning on a teleconference with some folks from
Mississippi State. The purpose of this gathering was to poke around
at our Older Blind Program here in Washington State, and determine if
our services are meeting the needs of our clients--how to improve
them--determine if we are still on target--find ways of providing much
needed training for our new RT's--and do all of this while looking for
ways to cut budget a bit. Naturally our first suggestions were that
the program must find more dollars if it is to meet any of its goals.
But that's how these sorts of things go. Anyway, in my casting about
for some materials that would make our case, I ran across an article I
wrote a few years back, talking about how it is so easy to develop
certain methods of training, and then stuff clients into this one
mold, rather than developing training that is specific to each
person's needs. I sent the article with the following introduction,
to the Mississippi State Team.
Carl Jarvis
******
Greetings:
Over my ears in the field of work with the blind and low vision, I've
met many well intentioned RT's and O&M's who focused on Form. It was, "My way
or the highway!" This, of course, was my own early approach, too. After
all I was the Professional RT, and teacher knows best! And I was a
rescuer, to boot. When you have time, below is an article I wrote
some years ago that hopefully makes
my point concerning just what we are teaching our clients. Are our
techniques opening the door of opportunity, or are we placing
roadblocks in their paths by demanding that they fit our mold?
It was good to meet all of you, and thanks for your time.
Carl Jarvis
From the March 2008 Braille Forum
LOST IN SPACE
by Carl Jarvis
(Reprinted from the Washington Council of the Blind "Newsline.")
Have you ever wondered how it is that one blind person can be dropped off in
the middle of a strange city and find his way home, while another blind
person can't find his way out of a broom closet if he has both hands on the
doorknob? For more than 32 years I have been working with blind people of
all ages, shapes, sizes and abilities. During those years I have compiled a
pile of mostly unscientific, useless information. But one most puzzling
question keeps recurring. Why is it that some blind people get lost in their
own shoes, while others seem to have a built-in sonar system?
It appears to have nothing to do with when they became blind, their age or
education or whether they are left-brain, right-brain or no-brain. So, for
many years I concluded that it was a matter of developing the correct
teaching technique. My early indoctrination was straightforward. The average
blind person, with proper training and attitudes, could do just about
anything.
So, when I applied my magic to my students and nothing happened, I
considered that it was my failure, not theirs. I just had not found the
right combination of teaching tools to successfully complete the training.
Remember the old saying, "A doctor buries his/her mistakes"? Not so for the
rehab teacher. Our mistakes/failures keep bumping into us at meetings,
conventions, and knocking at our doors requesting more training. Since many
of us rehab teachers are rescuers by nature, we roll up our sleeves and try,
try again, invariably ending up with the same results. People were coming to
us, lost in space and seeking help. And our inability to resolve this
problem began to impact all phases of their rehabilitation training. Instead
of aiming them toward success, we were pointing them to the door marked,
"Destination: Failure."
Over the years I was absolutely certain that somewhere, somehow, there
existed the right approach for teaching spatial awareness to blind people.
My wife, and fellow rehab teacher, had never shared my belief. Despite
discussing and debating this issue many times, my mind was made up. I simply
could not accept that there are some skills that cannot be taught. Finally
the light clicked on when Cathy, trying to illustrate her point, said, "You
know, Carl, you have no sense of rhythm. And despite all these years of
trying, you still can't follow the beat. You sing just fine but you're
totally lost in the song, which is better, and safer, than turning you loose
on the dance floor." This brought to mind my mother. She was tone-deaf. We
always said that Mother sang the tune the old cow died on. She had about
three notes, and yet she loved music. And I loved music, too. How was it
that Mother and I could be serious music lovers but not be able to hum or
dance to the tune?
Of course the answer is that humming and dancing are not central to music
appreciation. And then it hit me: I was focused on the wrong goal.
Regardless of whether it could be taught, spatial awareness is not central
to leading a successful, independent life. Not only was I busy trying to
teach people to develop a skill which they did not possess, but worse yet, I
was implying that without this skill they could not be successful,
independent people. Just because a kangaroo can hop doesn't mean I can teach
him to fly. Nor does he need to fly to reach his goal. And just because a
blind person can get from point A to point B does not mean that I can teach
him spatial awareness. Some of our brains are simply not set up to work that
way.
This was a hard concept for me to wrap my mind around. Over the years I
watched many blind people travel about and arrive at their destination. Some
did it with ease, while others did it by trial and error. I figured that the
trial and error folks just needed to practice harder and pay closer
attention to what they were doing. It never occurred to me that just getting
there was a major success for the spatially challenged. The truth is I had
no clue as to what these folks were struggling with. Think of trying to
teach a blind man to see. We could put him through the same drills that we
use for all sighted folks. Over and over we could force him to peer and
strain, finally giving up in frustration. We might feel that we had not
pushed him hard enough. He would be left with the feeling that he was
incompetent. In the end, we had programmed him for a life of failure.
But of course we know that a blind man cannot be taught to see. Even if his
eyes move, and he blinks and sheds tears, he is missing something that
cannot be taught. This absence must be accommodated if he is to function
independently in life. This is exactly the same course of action needed for
the spatially challenged. Trying to teach them techniques that work for the
spatially aware will only frustrate them. What is needed is a set of
alternative techniques that will assist them in accommodating their
different approach to space.
Whether we are blind or sighted, I believe that there are great differences
in how our brains process spatial information. Sighted people accommodate
this difference, unaware that it even exists. But without sight, this
difference becomes a major problem for the spatially challenged. It is
essential that we develop positive alternative techniques which will enable
people to function successfully in their environment, allowing them to
fulfill their goals to live productive, independent lives.
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