Street Smarts

This entry is about one of my most challenging cane training sessions in downtown Erie last July. My objective was to get around town and eat out in a restaurant, blindfolded (wearing 'sleep shades'), to simulate the conditions I find myself in at night when I can't see very well. Note: my mobility instructor is completely blind.
I'll post this story in TWO PARTS.

~~~~

"Ready for the challenge? You are going to wear your sleep shades from start to finish.”

I tried to ignore the excitement in my trainer’s voice. What had I gotten myself into? I was already disoriented and we hadn’t even arrived at our drop-off point yet.

In ‘Adjustment to Blindness Training,’ obviously the onus falls on the student to meet the challenges of navigating to pre-designated locations in order to become independent and develop the necessary self-confidence to achieve goals in ways others never have to think about. The more ownership a student takes in his or her own progress, the faster these goals are met. Chet, my trainer, is superb. He steps back to allow me to initiate and follow through with my own decisions, yet stays close enough to ensure that I do not put myself in danger. But let me be clear: he does not mollycoddle me. I am forced to meet the challenges of the tasks before me. In addition, I must take on any unexpected developments that may crop up.

At no time was this clearer to me than during my last training session in the heart of downtown Erie. My target objective was to find a specific restaurant.

Before we left my house, Chet had me put on my sleep shades, circle his driver’s vehicle twice with my cane as was his custom at the start of every lesson.

"Okay, you can get in."

I listened, then saluted in the direction of his voice, felt for the door handle and eased myself in.

“I’m gonna give you some time to warm up. I won’t just throw you in the situation,” he explained.

“Huh! Warming up would be letting me see more bef--"

His voice hardened into a no-nonsense tough guy tone he rarely took with me as he interrupted, "You already know how to see. You’ve been doing that all your life. You are learning how to get around by not seeing. I will not be happy if you lose your vision before you are sufficiently prepared.”

“I know. I know.” I’m not going blind tomorrow! Well, that’s lucky because when I handed over my Braille for him to check on the ride in to Erie, that was a disaster.

“I see what you did. You wrote it all backwards.” Chet felt my sheet carefully. He made a valiant effort to decipher it, and then gave up. “Try again next time. Your first attempt was much better.”

“Uh-oh! I hope today’s training goes better than my Braille.”

“Don’t think like that; you’re gonna do great!”

The van came to a halt. I squared my shoulders, “Let’s do it.”

“We are now facing Thirteenth Street. The parallel street is State. We want to go to the Credit Union on the northeast corner of 12th and State. Its address is 1129 State. What direction do we need to go?”

“North ... uh, toward the lake I guess...” I started out confident but faltered. These directions downtown always confused me.

"Yes, that's correct."

When we got to the Credit Union, my easiest course of action was to stand and wait, but he insisted I find a bench to sit down.

“Errrr,” I growled but found my way to one, after having squeezed through what seemed to be a very narrow opening but was actually a regular-sized doorway. “Bravo! You did great!” came the voice of a young woman seated near me. “Oh!” I moved my foot and explored the area. It hit upon the steel framework of a baby stroller. Well, the stroller must come with a baby and its mama. Was she a 'plant'? How did she know if I was doing well? Soon I could hear her on what I guessed to be a cell phone. I gave up on my crazy theory that she'd somehow been 'planted' to cheer me on.

Chet found me and we headed out. I made it out of the bank straightaway (Good job, Amy! I congratulated myself). We then headed downtown. At some point, and I don’t remember which order, I crossed both State Street and Twelfth Street.

“You did that well! Just like a pro.”

Yippee! I crossed these major downtown streets on my own! My face turned into one huge grin. I felt like a jack-o-lantern with my heart a bright candle. If only everyone could see what I had accomplished! The adrenalin kept pumping in.

“Okay, now you wanted to try eating in a restaurant. So I am going to tell you the address and you are going to have to locate it. I’m not sure where it’s at myself so this will be a test for both of us.”

You’re gonna make me do the work here, right?

As I made my way on the sidewalk, the space I had to walk seemed to shrink. What were these odd-shaped steel objects I kept hitting? I took Chet's advice and explored them with my cane.

"Chet, they all seem to be different shapes. I can't really identify them."

“Oh, Amy. Erie is having a block party this weekend,” Chet recalled. “There are tables and chairs set up on the sidewalk and lots more people than usual. That's what we're coming across."

“Oh? Oh! A block party!” I could feel the panic set in. How would I ever make my way down this crowded sidewalk?

“You’re okay. People will move when they see you. If not, you’ll find them with your cane. Just challenge yourself. Keep going.”

“Ohhh!” I boxed myself into a corner and got tangled up in the legs of some chairs. Where is the way through?! A-my! Focus! People must be staring at you! “Uh..uh..Chet!”

“I’m here. You’re doin’ great.”

We continued on in this way. I gingerly tapped my way through the tables, chairs, electrical cords, frequently stopping to untangle my way amid the strollers, ad-hoc outdoor grills, cafes and chairs. I could smell smoke, some pungent spicy aromas, grilling meat, beer, and strong coffee all around me. "Mmmm," I took it in. It got really congested around Perry Square. Clomp! Ooops! Oh no! "Excuse me. Sorry." Were we actually making any progress? How much further?

The meat sizzled. I heard voices--some who seemed to man the food, others who sounded relaxed and I guess, ate the food. Children squabbled and laughed. I felt a sudden burst of air and a sweaty body bump my arm as wheels whizzed by. What was that? Skateboard?

Of particular interest to me was a female voice,"Stop staring at them. That isn't nice," Someone laughed. Someone else mumbled. Children? Teenagers? I strained to hear better. Did she mean Chet and me? Of course, everyone can see us. Just because we can't see them doesn't mean they can't see us. How quickly I forget that!

Suddenly I passed through an area of African American music. Rap. I could feel the beat pulsating. I imagined teenagers seated on the ground fiddling with the volume of their boom boxes. It distracted me as I continued along the sidewalk.

"We have to cross one more street,” Chet explained.

“Hey, watch it! That’s a six thousand dollar paint job on my motorcycle!” the tough voice of a woman called out very near me. I turned toward the voice . "Yeah, that's right, chick-o, YOU!"

I recoiled immediately. “Oh sorry,” I held my cane still for a moment, terrified to take another step.

“Did I tell you that this is also the weekend for “Roar to the Shore?” Chet asked me dryly. “8,000 motorcyclists are gathered right here in the heart of downtown for the event.”

I felt faint. “Well, I don’t think I befriended that one.”

“Come on, keep goin’ The restaurant can’t be far.” Chet's jovial voice spurred me on.

~~~~

Life is full of Motorcycle Mamas along our pathway, isn't it? Guaranteed, we're gonna smash into 'em when we least expect to. I think Chet has learned to sweep away negative criticism as easily as he takes the next sweep of his cane to move forward. I kinda like that approach to life. I'd like to take it up. I wonder how long it takes to learn that technique?!

Tune in tomorrow for the restaurant experience.

Surprise Birthday Mayhem!

Let me tell you: I love birthdays! I think it’s because I don’t look at birthdays as turning a year older; I think of them as confirming our own unique personalities and worth. They are days when anything exciting can unfold, and I expect it to. My attitude towards birthdays carries over to my friends, and I always try to make them feel special..

So, when I got invited to my Facebook friend’s surprise 50^th birthday party, I couldn’t turn the invitation down, even though I hadn’t seen my friend in thirty years! I looked at it as an adventure—and that’s exactly what it turned out to be. I anticipated a challenge because this undertaking would first, take place at night, and second, in an unfamiliar venue. How would I handle it when my classmate saw I was now using a blind man's cane?

My best friend, Kathy, stamped her feet to get warm,“Got the card and crying towel?” The crying towel was a gag gift for Birthday Boy.

“Yep.”

"Got your cane?"

“Yep.”

“Ready to rip?”

“R.I.P? You mean I’m takin’ my life in my hands?” I quipped. Then a moment of suspicious--and somewhat nervous--laughter hit me, "Did you say 'trip?' "

“Come on, I'm doing you a favor by going with you, and I'm freezin' while you're making jokes."

Brrrr! It felt like the coldest day of winter. When we spoke, our breath came out in tiny puffs. The wind sliced through my fashionable blue jeans where my jacket stopped. I wasn't wearing my warm cap as "limp flat hair" was not simply not acceptable at such a gathering. My fingers became stiff in the short walk from the parking lot to the building.

We ducked into the restaurant. I stood still for a few moments to let my eyes adjust to the dimly-lit interior. Kathy waited patiently for me to give the go-ahead to move forward.

"How about that table over there?" I tried to follow her chin movement. Over there? To the right? To the left? Across the room? My eyes were still adjusting.

"Oh yeah...the table is right ahead of you. Can you see it?"

"Ummm. Now I can. Okay, let's go."

I swept my cane back and forth. That made me feel like a street cleaner, except instead of cleaning I was spreading snow in wobbly arcs across carpet those first few steps. We reached the table--to the right of the door and a little behind us--and shed our coats.Some other women joined us.

“Let’s get something to drink.” Kathy suggested.

We ordered our beverages and headed back to our table. Where was Birthday Boy? I set my Coke down. When I set it down, I knocked over Kathy's cup. Ah, I didn't see it there! I watched the contents cover the table in record speed. I could definitely see that! People dashed madly about to bring napkins and paper towels. I just stood there watching. "Sorry. Sorry." I apologized as the woman tried to staunch the mess before it dripped onto their clothes. I caught Kathy's eye. She looked amused. I grimaced. What a way to start!

At that moment, Birthday Boy arrived at our table. Oblivious, he gave each of us a big, warm pull-me-close hug, which stretched out into a second one...

“Guess what Amy did? She spilled my drink all over the table. I didn't even get my first sip!"

She was up to something, but what? I glared daggers at her, but this time the darkness was in her favor. Drats! What would Birthday Boy think? She was not cued into any of my "Watch-it-you're-on-dangerous-ground" signals.

Birthday Boy still wore dark glasses but they didn't look as heavy as I remembered. He had a little less hair on top... and a little bit more on his face (a salt and pepper mustache and beard). He seemed inclined to forgive any clumsy misdeed, “You did that?” He smiled benignly and I noticed a tooth missing on the top right-hand side of his mouth. "You're lookin' good, the both of yous," he gestured to Kathy as well.

“Ahhh…it's very dark in here,” I muttered to explain both the spill and his compliment, thinking how I would skewer my friend the moment he left.

"It's been a long time since I saw ya last." He looked relaxed as he tugged on the flap of his baseball cap.

"Yeah like thirty years," I reminded him. I hadn't seen him since high school.

"Want ya to meet my wife and doctor-I mean, daughter..." He called out to them, swaying a little, "C'mere..."

I smiled in Birthday Boy's direction where I expected them to show up. I held out my arm and thought they'd take it if they were there. No one did. So I quickly pulled it back.

"Oh daddy, whaddya want?" The blurry figure of an attractive blond, but slightly heavy-set young girl came into my view. He put his arm around her shoulder; his pride was unmistakable. "This is my daughter, Kelsie."

I nodded at her.

"Are ya havin' a good time?"

I wasn't sure if she meant Kathy and I or her dad, Birthday Boy.

He smiled at all of us,"What's more importan' than bein' with family and friends at my big 5-0?"

An older, heavier but less made-up version of the teen girl stepped into my view. Long blond hair and a friendly, wide smile caught my attention. She offered her hand, "So nice to meet you. I've seen your comments on Facebook. My daughter here actually sent out the invitations for the surprise party." She looked approvingly at Kelsie.

"So nice to meet you, Kathy." I didn't risk offering my hand. It was a casual outing, after all.

When they all left, I turned to my friend, "Okay, spill it!" I grinned at my pun, "Why did you tell him I spilled the drink?”

“I thought he might offer to buy me another one.” She made a face.

I rolled my eyes. What could I say? "It didn't work now, did it?"

"Nope," She laughed. "Be right back. I'm gonna get a Coke now. But don't go near it!" she joked.

"Don't worry. I don't think I could stand a repeat performance."

*****

The rest of the night passed by without incident-- if you don't include me knocking two pieces of cake out of Kathy's hand before leaving or drawing the attention of another former classmate with my cane. I'll just have to get used to these "happenstances." Is that the right word? It was noteworthy that I managed to go through the buffet line without dumping any chicken wings ... wasn't sure how I could carry a plateful of food and manage my cane at the same time! But slow and steady makes the grade...

Birthday Boy reveled in the attention of family, close friends and old acquaintances. He was kind, generous and very welcoming. I was so glad that I came to be part of this celebration! I think sometimes as in the case of old - let me change that to "former" classmates meeting up -- where there is no bond due to a lifetime of different experiences, the "lifetime ago" becomes that bond. It's kind of a neat feeling.

The Candlelight Service

My ears perked up. A candlelight service? My church! Were they actually going to have a special service in the evening? Pardon me for thinking this, but this was highly unusual for a church that believes worship at Christmas time should be like any other Sunday of the year, that we should celebrate Our Lord’s birth every week...well, we all believe that, don't we? I was thrilled to find my church at the threshold of change. Forgive me if I did a double-take. This was one service I would not miss!

That night I took my cane in to church for the first time. I felt a little self-conscious using it front of our small congregation. I just wanted to be seated and out of view. Marilyn waved to me and motioned for me to sit next to her. Her husband, John, stood up to let me pass. Thankfully, I began to fold up my cane and place it near my feet when one of the elders took the microphone.

“Come on, everyone, up t’ the front of the church. Let’s fill up those first few pews.”

I groaned. Everyone would be moving forward, and I would have to use my cane in front of them as we resituated ourselves. We all shuffled forward like obedient sheep.

I now found myself seated next to Paula, the elder’s wife.

She turned toward me, “Now, Amy, I don’t know very much about this—is it mac—“

I smiled, “Well, it’s a form of macular degeneration…” I gave her the short take on it. She herself had suffered breast cancer so I felt at ease in discussing it.

Richard, our elder, leaned on a lectern in front of the church and began to speak, “So how many of you will be participating in this service?”

“Would you like me to get you a candle?” Paula asked.

“Oh, thank you. I can get it myself.” I assured.

“No need, John will get one for all of us,” my friend, Marilyn, piped up.

Richard launched into a complicated set of instructions. Oh no! I had envisioned simply holding a candle at my seat, and singing, or listening to a devotional. Not so tonight!

“…now if you are married, both husband and wife can come up together to light your candle, and stand while the scripture reading is being read. Then you will be seated in the pews opposite, on the other side of the church. If you're single, you'll go up alone…”

The “what-ifs” began in my mind. What if I trip over someone’s legs and sprawl out in front of the congregation? What if I knock over the candle? What if I can’t find my way to the opposite pew? What if run into the communion table? The possibilities were endless. Okay, that does it! I am not participating! I whispered as much to Marilyn. She whispered something back, but I couldn’t catch it. I wasn’t even wearing my hearing aids.

The lights began to dim, one-by-one. Finally, we sat in darkness. I mean it—darkness!

But a little voice inside me began to lecture, You can’t shine “the light” only when it’s convenient. God expects more from us than that. Remember Amy, he never asks us to do anything without equipping us. You remembered your cane. You know how to use it. So when it’s your time, just stand up and get goin’.

I bit my nails as I waited my turn. Finally, Paula stood up and set out. She would walk alone as her husband was already up front leading the scripture readings. Paula had survived her cancer. She never seemed to worry or hesitate. She looked out at the audience with a serene smile. As she left to sit down, I stood up. My heart was pounding.

Marilyn stood up, too, as did her husband. “We’ll go with you,” she said quietly. She held onto my shoulder and we moved out. My cane smacked against the heat register at the end of our pew. Oh no! I quickly turned right. Marilyn guided me to the table ahead. My hand trembled as I lit my candle, then I stepped aside for her and John to do likewise. The three of us stood in front of the church while the scripture was read. My candle illuminated my cane--or at least part of it--in front of the whole congregation. I tried to smile. I have no recollection what the scripture reading focused on as I stood there. With a tap on my shoulder from Marilyn, I moved out and headed for the pew on the opposite side. I didn’t know where the next person was seated so rather than stumble over them, I chose to move to a new pew. At last, I was seated in the audience and watching others move forward; why, even children participated!

Singing followed the devotional; all our songs contained “the light” somewhere in the lyrics…send the light; this little light of mine; walking in the light, to name a few. I relaxed and sang along with the rest of the congregation. My brothers and sisters. What a great family--and feeling!

As the lights slowly filled the room, I rose. Naturally, I reached for my cane. God had provided for me, as usual. Nothing had gone wrong. I didn’t embarrass myself in any way—unless you count banging the heat register. That didn't last very long.

Lord, continue to show me that You are Master of every new situation I face. Give me courage to move through the darkness—both literally and spiritually. I want to become the light You so desire me to be at every turn. No matter … how unfamiliar the territory… who is watching … who I feel may be judging me. What if I do trip? Maybe I won’t know exactly where to go … or what to say or do in my position as Your child. Simply fill me with courage to move out of my comfort zone.

God, You so clearly wove the physical and the spiritual together in an extraordinary lesson for me: Don’t be a light only when it’s convenient. Between my cane and my friend’s assistance, you supplied my needs to enable me to move forward in the physical darkness. I only needed to do one thing: trust You and take that step.

Let me apply those same principles in the spiritual darkness that this world holds. Help me to always take that first step forward.