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Being Different
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Being Different |
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Jaime Fradera Senior Member
since 2000-11-25
Posts 843Where no tyranny is tolerable |
This talk was given for the congregation of the First Unitarian Church of Denver; Sunday, January 23, 2000. The trouble with our prevailing value system is that our value to the society is measured in terms of criteria that have nothing to do with the quality of our lives--the only thing that really matters. (If you doubt this, just try paying off your credit cards with love, and see what happens to you). And the tragedy is that so many of us buy in to this fallacy even when we know better. as Blind people we are taught, from a very early age, that we cannot be useful, that we have nothing, that our proper role is to receive and not give as others do, and that we have no business aspiring to have a normal life. But we are, in fact living, breathing people. Our life experiences and struggles are very much alike, and there is so very, very much that you and I can do, and live, and celebrate together. If this story has a prologue, I suppose it would be that I spent nine years as an inmate of the Texas School for the Blind in austin. I use the term deliberately. In 1965, the school was enclosed by a tall fence, and I remember the school a bleak and frightening place, but as a teenager I was taught to eat with utensils and tie my shoes. In etiquette class we Were taught table manners, and also, that being blind was not all together respectable. I was taught to wear hearing aids and sun glasses so that I would appear as a normal person and conceal my deaf blindness. The hearing aids and glasses were heavy and uncomfortable to wear, but I'd been taught I had to wear them anyway, because I wanted more than anything to be a normal person; I wanted to live in the greater world. The next year I went off to a Big Four-year University. This would be my first real foray in to the normal world, and making it to the Big University meant I was a normal person. It was the fall of 1977, the heyday of Disco, and it was exciting to think what a party animal I would be. I went to parties, drank beer, dressed correctly, used good table manners, and spent many a night at the disco bar, where I tried with growing desperation to find the incarnation of Donna Sommer, But often left the disco bar alone, my ears ringing and ringing. After a time, it began to dawn on me that in spite of all I was doing to be popular, hardly anyone would notice, and those who did only wondered why I didn't have a dog. It was as hard as ever to get dates. And as for finding a girlfriend, well, that looked even more hopeless--or so I thought, back then. To make matters worse, I began to loose more and more hearing. Frightened by what was happening to me, I turned to the counselors and audiologist for help. But instead of cautioning me about drinking and wearing ear protectors, these so-called counselors suggested I try to go to more parties, that I wear t-shirts, that I call the crisis line if I got too upset, that I take auditory training. After a time, it began to dawn on me that in spite of all I was doing to be popular, hardly anyone would notice, and those who did only wondered why I didn't have a dog. It was as hard as ever to get dates. And as for finding a girlfriend, well, that looked even more hopeless--or so I thought, back then. To make matters worse, I began to loose more and more hearing. Frightened by what was happening to me, I turned to the counselors and audiologist for help. But instead of cautioning me about drinking and wearing ear protectors, these so-called counselors suggested I try to go to more parties, that I wear t-shirts, that I call the crisis line if I got too upset, that I take auditory training. After a time, it began to dawn on me that in spite of all I was doing to be popular, hardly anyone would notice, and those who did only wondered why I didn't have a dog. It was as hard as ever to get dates. And as for finding a girlfriend, well, that looked even more hopeless--or so I thought, back then. To make matters worse, I began to loose more and more hearing. Frightened by what was happening to me, I turned to the counselors and audiologist for help. But instead of cautioning me about drinking and wearing ear protectors, these so-called counselors suggested I try to go to more parties, that I wear t-shirts, that I call the crisis line if I got too upset, that I take auditory training. They set me up with a wanna-be clinician, a grad student named Donna. For weeks and weeks we did the auditory training. But the underlying illness went unchecked and my hearing only worsened. Donna had another bright idea; Since I was blind I should get a dog. When I reacted angrily she hastily shifted gears and said that well, maybe I should think about wearing glasses, which I had stopped doing because they hurt. The trouble was my eyes didn't look normal; I couldn't watch TV or flirt with girls for example. If I wore glasses, then people wouldn't stare at me as if I were a Martian. If the glasses didn't work out, if I still couldn't make friends or get dates, perhaps I could have eye surgery. I ended the semester more frightened and isolated than ever, racked by waves of dizziness and paralyzing despair. Eye surgery. This would make me look sighted. It was something I hadn't thought about before, and I guess I'd tried everything else. But then I remembered another time three years before, when I was happier, when I felt needed and loved. I remembered Linda. Linda was different. We had met in the hospital, where I was a patient, and she, a student nurse. alone among the nurses, Linda truly seemed to care; for she brought the joy and precious Sun my shattered spirit needed most. Every day she insisted that I groom and dress in street cloths for when she came to see me--and no one else did that. She wanted me to walk with her on the hospital grounds; she wanted me to have lunch with her. She kept picking on me. She wouldn't leave me alone. She said I was more interesting than the other patients. she kept telling to smile, and smile, and smile again, because I looked so much better when I smiled--and no one did that, either. Linda wouldn't be another care taker. After I got out, she made me promise not to tell her dean what we were doing, and we began to date. It was the spring of 1976. I was in love, and all the world a golden apple. Music still transports me back ... Do you know where you're going to? Do you like the things that life is showing you? Where are you going to? Do you know? ... Good morning, Yesterday. You wake up, and find I've slipped away ... Gather roses while you may. Collect the dreams you dream today. Remember; do you remember the times of your life? Through Linda I glimpsed the world that I aspired so much to enter. More precious than all the joy she brought me, more dear than all the love she gave, was the realization that, even as I needed her, Linda also needed me; and in a way that no one else had done before. Linda was sighted, yet Never once did she complain about my eyes--only that I wasn't smiling, and would I please stop sending flowers. and of all the golden treasure Linda saw locked up inside me was my own living humanity, that unlike anybody else she knew, I seemed always to have time for her; that it wasn't what I couldn't do that mattered, but what I had that counted most. And it was for all of that and more that Linda loved and needed me, that a world of lonely people needed me. And what difference did it make that I had been a patient; what difference did it make that I was blind. Through Linda I glimpsed the world that I aspired so much to enter. More precious than all the joy she brought me, more dear than all the love she gave, was the realization that, even as I needed her, Linda also needed me; and in a way that no one else had done before. Linda was sighted, yet Never once did she complain about my eyes--only that I wasn't smiling, and would I please stop sending flowers. and of all the golden treasure Linda saw locked up inside me was my own living humanity, that unlike anybody else she knew, I seemed always to have time for her; that it wasn't what I couldn't do that mattered, but what I had that counted most. And it was for all of that and more that Linda loved and needed me, that a world of lonely people needed me. And what difference did it make that I had been a patient; what difference did it make that I was blind. Through Linda I glimpsed the world that I aspired so much to enter. More precious than all the joy she brought me, more dear than all the love she gave, was the realization that, even as I needed her, Linda also needed me; and in a way that no one else had done before. Linda was sighted, yet Never once did she complain about my eyes--only that I wasn't smiling, and would I please stop sending flowers. and of all the golden treasure Linda saw locked up inside me was my own living humanity, that unlike anybody else she knew, I seemed always to have time for her; that it wasn't what I couldn't do that mattered, but what I had that counted most. And it was for all of that and more that Linda loved and needed me, that a world of lonely people needed me. And what difference did it make that I had been a patient; what difference did it make that I was blind. All this, I seemed to have forgotten. For as my hearing kept worsening and my life falling apart, my hopes of a better life were dying bitterly and hard. I clung more desperately to the notion of still making it socially in college, of looking sighted, of being popular an normal. There seemed but one thing left to do, and I made an appointment with a state eye doctor. The first step, I was told, was that I first had to wear a little plastic shell, like a contact lens, in one eye for a few weeks. Although it would hurt, the pain would go away, after which a larger lens would be implanted, which would hurt, too. I wore the lens, but having something in my eye was a constant aggravation; and by now the anguish was more than I could bear. I pulled it out and threw it away, but it was more than just my eyes that bled and hurt, and nothing would stop the gushing tears. I was ruining my health. by now, unable to hear the professors, or have girlfriends, or read my recorded text books, unable to do anything, it The first step, I was told, was that I first had to wear a little plastic shell, like a contact lens, in one eye for a few weeks. Although it would hurt, the pain would go away, after which a larger lens would be implanted, which would hurt, too. I wore the lens, but having something in my eye was a constant aggravation; and by now the anguish was more than I could bear. I pulled it out and threw it away, but it was more than just my eyes that bled and hurt, and nothing would stop the gushing tears. I was ruining my health. by now, unable to hear the professors, or have girlfriends, or read my recorded text books, unable to do anything, it seemed, but sit in my dormitory room and cry, that I finally gave up, threw in the towel. This seemed to kill forever the possibility that I might someday take my place in the greater world, or ever lead a full and active life. If I was to go on living, perhaps it would be with a terrifying illness for which there was no cure; perhaps it would be as some kind of incapacitated strange nobody wanted, unable to do anything, it seemed, but sit at home, and cry. It was here, surrounded by the twisted wreckage of my life, finally stripped of all the things I once believed in, that I at last began to see the harsh and painful truth. for all my life I had done what I was told, what everybody else was doing, tried to go with the flow, join the crowd and run downstream, vainly hoping no one else would know I was pretending. And what was the result? My dreams were smashed, my hopes lay ruined, my spirit all but broken. Whatever virtues there might be in conformity, insameness, I finally understood that, no matter what I did, I was never going to look sighted, that I could never be the same, that my struggle to conform had been a failure. For three long years I languished. Then, two things happened First, I was given an audio program by a motivational speaker. (I had to put the tape recorder flush against the one ear I had left). The program extolled the virtues of excellence, strength of character and achievement, with stories of persons who bucked revered tradition, who swam upstream, who were different and inspired all those around them Second, was my finding of the National Federation of the Blind. Through my new friends in the Federation, I came to understand that there was nothing wrong with me, that I was living for more than just myself, that I did not have to hide my blindness or my deafness, that we shared a common story, a universal vision of working, playing, and living side by side our sighted partners, colleagues and friends; that our purpose, our obligation to ourselves and one another was not to be the same, but to be different. Second, was my finding of the National Federation of the Blind. Through my new friends in the Federation, I came to understand that there was nothing wrong with me, that I was living for more than just myself, that I did not have to hide my blindness or my deafness, that we shared a common story, a universal vision of working, playing, and living side by side our sighted partners, colleagues and friends; that our purpose, our obligation to ourselves and one another was not to be the same, but to be different. Second, was my finding of the National Federation of the Blind. Through my new friends in the Federation, I came to understand that there was nothing wrong with me, that I was living for more than just myself, that I did not have to hide my blindness or my deafness, that we shared a common story, a universal vision of working, playing, and living side by side our sighted partners, colleagues and friends; that our purpose, our obligation to ourselves and one another was not to be the same, but to be different. Being different. It was something I had not thought about. It seemed there was nothing else to do. So for many months I listened and studied, pondered and planned, until i knew that I was ready. And one day, when once again I saw the world a golden apple, and knew I was still very much in love, I left home for the last time, to swim upstream for the first time, to trade security and sameness for something spiritual and sacred: the gifts of Life, and Freedom! All that you are seeking is also seeking you |
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Broken_Winged_Angel Senior Member
since 2000-04-06
Posts 994Small Town, Somewhere |
"Do you know where you're going to? Do you like the things that life is showing you? Where are you going to? Do you know? ... Good morning, Yesterday. You wake up, and find I've slipped away ... Gather roses while you may. Collect the dreams you dream today. Remember; do you remember the times of your life?" Jaime, these lines hit somewhere close to the heart. Another good read. thankyou for sharing it.  BWA. With a little piece of tomorrow, You'll have to kiss yesterday goodbye. Because today won't last forever, And the past will only make you cry. |
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