Ok everyone, given that today is Sunday and a beautiful day, this story portrays awesome images in my mind of how what a diverse culture disability is but yet so normal.
>NPR.org, July 4, 2008 · The content of Seventeen magazine in Braille is
>exactly the same as Seventeen in English. There's no footnote breaking
>down what exactly is meant by Miley Cyrus' "look" nor extra explanation
>describing the makeover before-and-after images.
>
>This is perfectly fine with 14-year-old Kyra Sweeney of Santa Monica,
>Calif., who keeps a copy on her ultra-organized desk.
>
>"I get it for the articles," she explains, before acknowledging she's
>never come across a publication specifically for blind teens like herself.
>"I rely on my friends to tell me what to wear."
>
>A little over a week ago, Kyra had just finished her last day of eighth
>grade. But the academics were not over. On the following Saturday, she
>would compete in the competition to top all competitions for blind and
>visually impaired students: the Braille Challenge. Finalists from across
>the United States and Canada had worked their way through local and
>regional contests to make the cut. Lucky for her, it was to be held just
>across town at the Braille Institute of Los Angeles.
>
>The event is more intense in some ways than a spelling bee. Students
>compete in up to four categories — including the dreaded "speed and
>accuracy" test, which requires typing hundreds of words correctly in
>Braille. Dangling over Kyra's head were thousands of dollars in potential
>prizes plus the opportunity to add yet another gold star to her resume.
>
>Standing in her family's living room, Kyra recites a weekly schedule that
>reads like a newspaper's music section: lessons and recitals for choir,
>piano, flute, chamber orchestra. The week before, she spent her one "day
>off" performing for thousands at the Hollywood Bowl, alongside superstar
>flautist James Galway.
>
>"A lot of blind musicians have perfect pitch. I'm one of them, which is
>cool, I guess," she says and laughs.
>
>The bios of all the Braille Challenge participants — who range from
>first-graders to 12th-graders — are similarly impressive. Nine-year-old
>Cricket Bidleman was 4 when she was adopted from China. She learned
>English in a month, and Braille in three months. Nicole Torcolini, 18,
>created a computer program to make the periodic table of the elements
>accessible for the blind. And according to test proctors, last year, one
>participant was moonlighting for the FBI.
>
>"I liken it to Harvard's freshman class," says Dr. Stuart Wittenstein,
>superintendent of the California School for the Blind. "Most of these kids
>have never lost a competition." Consequently, Wittenstein often finds
>himself consoling parents. "It's often the first time that's happened, and
>we really have to talk about how the world is a tough place."
>
>Finding 'Normal'
>
>At the reception the night before the contest, however, conversations
>reveal that many of these kids are more concerned with appearing "normal"
>than "special." All but a few are the only blind student at their schools
>back home; being in the majority is a rare indulgence.
>
>"It's easier in some ways to be around blind kids than sighted kids," one
>girl confesses, "because you don't have to constantly prove yourself."
>
>This draws "yeahs" from four other girls, including Kyra and long-time pal
>Megan Bening of Minnesota, a vivacious, Diet Coke addicted blonde.
>
>Making friends at school is a struggle, Megan says, which is hard to
>believe, given that she keeps the people around her constantly laughing.
>
>The problem isn't that sighted kids are mean, she says matter-of-factly;
>it's that they are too nice. Paralyzed by political correctness, people
>often pretend that they haven't noticed she's blind, which adds a
>saccharine veneer to interaction.
>
>"It doesn't do any good to dance around the elephant in the room. It eats
>up too many brain cells," she advises.
>
>PC matters aside, Megan confesses that the main issue that has her nervous
>about starting ninth grade in the fall is her looks. Her "one honest
>friend" at school confessed to her that she doesn't have many "in"
>clothes: It's one of the first times she has come across a problem that
>she's not clear how to fix.
>
>Dirty Rumors
>
>Around the same time that Playboy in Braille temporarily went out of print
>in the 1980s, a nasty rumor began to circulate: Braille was going to die.
>It had nothing to with Hugh Hefner; rather, like radios and beepers, new
>technology was expected to undermine Braille's relevance. Blind and
>visually impaired individuals would soon carry around devices that could
>read and write for them, the thinking went, undermining the need for
>Braille.
>
>The rumors died down as it became apparent that technology and Braille are
>natural partners, according to Wittenstein, an outspoken advocate of
>Braille literacy. But questions about Braille's relevance lingered. In
>many ways, the National Braille Challenge represents an effort to refute
>those doubts.
>
>The contest is an opportunity for talented blind students to compete and
>get to know each other. But it's also a way to boost Braille's profile by
>tying its public image to achievement. Braille is used by only a small
>percentage of blind and visually impaired individuals, according to the
>stats.
>
>Sometimes, it's the parents who show reluctance to embrace Braille,
>Wittenstein says.
>
>"If you introduce your idea of Braille to them, it says, 'My child is
>blind, and maybe I have to start thinking of my child in a different
>way.'"
>
>Blind people are terrifying to the sighted world, says Wittenstein — who
>has full sight, but spends most of his time with blind students and
>friends — because they make people think, "If I lost my vision, how would
>I get around? How could I do my job?"
>
>For kids, however, he says the biggest obstacle is not the loss of vision
>— they find their own way of doing things — but the loss of the sighted
>world's expectations.
>
>The Competition
>
>The day of the competition, parents huddle in the hallways, straining to
>see their children through the windows in the doors of each testing room.
>One mother attempts to enter the classroom — perhaps to offer a final good
>luck squeeze — but is sternly asked to step back.
>
>At the signal of "go," the rapid click-clack-swoosh of Perkins Braillers
>takes over the building. It's a simple sort of typewriter, with a key for
>each of the six dots that make up the Braille code. Students rapidly type
>whatever the proctor or audio tape tells them. Five minutes in, pages
>covered in the raised bumps of the Braille code start streaming from the
>Braillers to the floor.
>
>Throughout the day, participants rotate through challenges that test some
>combination of spelling, reading comprehension, proofreading and
>graph-reading abilities.
>
>Although the atmosphere can be tense, the event lacks the cut-throat
>precision of the National Spelling Bee on ESPN. A girl runs out of paper
>during the speed-writing contest and taps her fingers impatiently as the
>moderator takes almost a minute — potentially costing her dozens of lost
>points — to offer her a new sheet.
>
>In another room, Cricket, last year's first-place winner in the youngest
>category, draws inquiries from confused room monitors.
>
>"Something is wrong with that girl," a sighted monitor tells the test
>proctor. "She's not typing."
>
>Another monitor inspects the situation and returns with an assessment:
>"No, she's just working so fast that you didn't see it."
>
>And the Winners Are …
>
>Good friends Kyra and Megan sit huddled together in the giant ballroom
>following a full day of competition.
>
>"We're hoping we split first place. We'll cut the PAC Mate in half," Kyra
>jokes, referring to the digital Braille computer system awarded to winners
>in each age group. The PAC Mate is a sort of digital Perkins laptop,
>complete with GPS, Internet hookup, and the ability to immediately
>translate between Braille and text.
>
>All eyes are on the pair as the announcer (actor Mark Hamill of Luke
>Skywalker fame) begins: "And the third-place winner in the Junior Varsity
>category is …. Kyra Sweeney." Kyra floats up to the stage. Megan does not
>place.
>
>Cricket, who at age 9 stands about half as tall as most of her
>competitors, takes second place in her age category. As she fields praise
>from her fans, her one hand keeps reading the ceremony program.
>
>How did it feel to win?
>
>"Normal," she says, matter-of-factly.
What an incredible true story!
Sunday, July 6, 2008
A Story that Tells it All.
Labels:
blind,
California,
contests,
disability,
santa monica,
teen magazine
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