Blind people can't have interesting jobs

A fundraiser working for a local sight-loss charity approached me in the street, wishing to educate me about all of the great work that they do. I quickly explained that the charity was something I knew all about due to my own impairment. As nice as it would have been to chat, I apologised and explained that I had to rush to work for a meeting.

“Oh, how fascinating to meet one of the people we help!”

I kept my mouth closed. Well, actually I’ve never  had any help from any sight-loss charities but they weren’t to know, so I don’t feel the need to get into that.

“What is your job? It must be quite important to have a meeting!”

“I’m a PhD student at the university,” I reply.

“Oh WOW!” The fundraiser’s eyes widened in amazement. “Well done! Very impressive for someone like you!”

My eyes suck, not my brain.

Blind people - sorry - VI people - sorry - require apologies for everyone else’s proximal existence. Sorry.

I’m getting off a train through some double doors. Have you seen those things? They’re huge. There is plenty of room for two people to exit the train at the same time, even if one or both are morbidly obese. The man next to me - not morbidly obese, neither am I, I might add - notices my cane and apologises as he exits at the same time as me. What for? His presence? Or mine?

I’ve decided that he probably panicked, felt awkward and then apologised for feeling awkward; forgetting that I couldn’t actually hear his awkward thoughts in the first place. It's amazing how often this happens and how much it makes me think about how "abnormal" i must seem to the majority of the world...I shan't apologise for it though :)

Blind people love being directed even when they know exactly where they are going

I’m walking down a busy high street. There is a constant stream of people approaching me. My cane is particularly useful in these situations as most people tend to avoid me and walk either side , allowing me to concentrate on where i am, not who i’m avoiding in that second (My friends say i look like Moses, parting a sea of people).

Occasionally, however, someone will feel the need to dramatically step to the side, lower a shoulder and gesture the way in which i am already walking. One might remember such a scene from Disney Princess films where the helpless princess must be guided up the straight and unconfusing path by hundreds of bowing footmen.

Yes thankyou stranger, i was totally unsure of where to go when continuing to follow this straight road that i’ve been walking for a few minutes now. your theatrical guidance, whilst entertaining, was perhaps a little distracting though and i ended up tripping on an uneven paving slab.

Blind people are not allowed to be considered attractive

Walking along a street very close to home one evening, I was wolf-whistled from a car approaching from behind.  I turned my head to look as they drove alongside me and I wish I had seen their faces fall as I heard them exclaim:

“Ah mate! She’s blind! She has a cane! You can’t wolf-whistle a blind girl!”

Not that wolf-whistling is exactly synonymous with flattering but…

Why not?

Are blind people, by definition, not attractive people? I clearly was from behind, and that's enough for most wolf-whistling idiots :)

Blind people need God...or to be less pretty

“Excuse me young lady! Can I just say, your glasses are exquisite!”

“Well, thank you very much, I quite enjoy them, too!” (They are a very fun and bright shade of teal.)

“They make the blue of your eyes really pop, it is quite beautiful!”

“Well, thank you very much!” I said again, unsure of how else to respond to a compliment from a man older than my father.

“Can I ask you a personal question?”

I sensed the elephant-in-the-world that is my cane was about to be acknowledged.

“What is that?” he pointed.

Okay. There have been worse questions.

“This is my cane,” I recited. “I use it because I am visually impaired and I don’t want to walk into people in town.”

A look of profound sadness crossed my complimenter’s face. “But you have such pretty eyes!”

Impatience touched at the edges of my mind, the way it always does when strangers feel entitled to lament my life to my face. “Well, thank you, but sadly the appearance of my iris has nothing to do with the function of my optic nerve.” I forced myself to laugh it off with no small amount of sarcasm.

“But you’re so young!” Again with the sadness. Would you also be sad if I had a bad haircut, or had a broken arm?

“Well, yes,” I sighed. “I am about half of your age, but again, my age has very little to do with the functioning of my optic nerve.” I gave The Complimenter a little more background as to when I had lost my sight.

This was not received with much enthusiasm. Instead, the conversation stepped sideways. “You are dressed very nicely. I love the coordination of your coat and scarf. Did someone help you with that?”

I explained that I was capable of seeing colour and pattern myself and that I very much dressed myself. As I did everything in my life. Myself.

Again, my words didn’t seem to have much influence. “Can I pray for you?”

I politely declined. At this stage, I felt that it wouldn’t be amiss to give two, I think, very good reasons:

1. I am not religious and therefore feel it would be insulting to both parties.
   
2. I can’t think of a possible reason why I would need to be prayed for based on the information he had acquired today.

“Okay,” The Complimenter seemed to acknowledge. “But if you were to let me pray for you, it would go something like this: ….”

I was unable to contain my hostility at this point. I glared. As with much of my input up until now, it went unnoticed - which is quite impressive, as I have it on good authority that my eyeballs are extremely expressive.

“It is such a shame that a girl as young, pretty and confident as you should bear this burden…” The prayer went on to inform me of how God could work miracles and save me from this burden.

I stopped him. Why, I asked, was it particularly important to that I was young pretty and confident in this interpretation of my situation? Would it be ok for me to be going blind if I fitted his definition of ugly a little better?

“Because these are good things in your life that will be affected by this”

I stayed quiet.

You can probably imagine that I was really rather angry at this point, and on top of that, I was confused and frustrated as to why I should be expected to tolerate such ignorance and rudeness simply because I’m VI. And the milkshake shop was closing soon and I really wanted a milkshake. The conversation was just going to have to end, and I would have to accept my failure to educate this particular individual.

Before I could interrupt, a tirade of last-minute well-meant abuse was launched my way.

I was told that I must try to appreciate myself, and my uniqueness (I do). Although I might feel lonely (I don’t) and like I don’t have an impact in this world (I’m a rocket scientist, actually), I should keep going because God put me here for a reason and I do make a difference in this world (I know, and it’s because of my own hard work, not some divine being’s will).

And that is what I must hold on to, I learnt. Stories about starfish and quotes from the bible illustrated this grand tale of enlightenment.

I said thank you and left.

I was cross, and upset, and I wanted to cry a little bit…

…This stupid conversation had dragged on and now the milkshake shop was closed.