that the blind were not possessed of greater faculties than their seeing
fellows, but that loss of eyesight made it imperative to cultivate the
remaining senses to a very high degree, and that such cultivation led to
a greater keenness in the interpretation of the information furnished
the remaining senses. When told that the blind do many things well and
quickly by employing methods different than those who see, the
information comes as a shock, when it is not entirely discredited. There
is an idea prevalent among so-called well informed men and women that a
loss of eyesight carries with it a loss of mental vigor, and a total
inability to engage in any of the world's work. This belief, and the
many foolish notions which it breeds, presents one of the greatest
difficulties to be met, and, if possible, overcome, by the blind man or
woman obliged to earn a livelihood. So potent is eyesight considered
that, without it, some people think it impossible to perform even the
simplest duties, and the person obliged to substitute fingers for eyes,
and memory for pad and pencil is regarded as a marvel of intelligence
and skill, and as possessing a sixth sense. Anything done by the blind,
from recognizing a voice to remembering a street number, is considered
wonderful by the average person, and this attitude is very trying to the
blind adult who is striving to adjust himself to new conditions, and
train his remaining faculties to the highest possible degree of
efficiency. The commiseration and incredulous words of his friends is
one of the greatest trials which the blind adult is called upon to bear,
and it is not strange that he is often embittered and discouraged, and
unwilling to subject himself to the thoughtless comments and undisguised
pity of his former associates. These associates do not realize that
their attitude has changed or that they are adding another burden to the
already heavy load borne by their friend. They are sorry, honestly
sorry, and want so much to help, but to their minds blindness is the
greatest of all afflictions, and loss of eyesight is accompanied by a
corresponding loss of physical ability and mental vigor, unless the
person so afflicted is unusually gifted, and, in that case, he is
regarded as the marvel of the age. Unfortunately, the percentage of
gifted people is no greater among the blind than among the seeing, and
so it is not strange that many of the former class are unable to cope
with the difficulties and discouragements that blindness entails, when
thousands of seeing people succumb to what they consider the unequal
struggle for existence. As a class I honestly believe that blind people
are more courageous than seeing people, and I am sure that a greater
demand is made upon their stock of courage. This demand will be lessened
when the public learns to look upon blindness as a physical, not a
mental handicap, and when, instead of compelling persons so handicapped
to sit on the side lines holding their broken swords, it leads them
forward, places a new sword in their hands, and brings them the glad
tidings that they are needed on the firing line. Loss of eyesight is
always deplorable, but it is not so terrible as the isolation which
generally follows it, an isolation due, in large measure, to
misconception, lack of information, and misplaced sympathy on the part
of the public, generous to a fault in bestowing alms, but slow to
believe in the ability of the blind, and the wisdom of employing them.
If the public could be brought to look upon the blind, not as an
isolated class whose affliction entitles them to the pity and generous
alms of those more fortunate, but as men and women, with normal aims and
desires, just as full of hope, just as eager to work, and just as
interested in things as when they saw them through the natural medium,
their handicap would be lessened and their lives much happier. Most
people think all that can be done for the blind is to divert them, amuse
them, provide for them in institutions, or encourage them to accept
private charity. This lack of understanding on the part of the public is
the greatest drawback to the advancement of the blind, and often leads
to untold misery. Occupation the blind should have, must have, if they
are to enjoy any degree of happiness, or retain their self-respect. Loss
of eyesight does not deprive a man of his desire to earn his daily
bread, or to provide for those dependent upon him. He is willing and
eager to work, and should be given the chance. A French physician,
himself without eyesight, said: "So long as the blind can still bring
their stone, however small it may be, to the building of civilization,
or of bringing happiness to their kind, they feel that they live; and
whatever be the wounds received, they are not out of the battle of
life--the inequality of arms only increases their ardor." This
inequality of arms should, and usually does, act as a spur to the
courageous man or woman, but to the mind of the average sighted person,
this inequality seems to apply inability, and so very little is expected
of the blind, and little thought is given to their possibilities.
Senator Gore, the blind Senator from Oklahoma, says: "It is a mistake to
tell the sightless their loss is insurmountable or inconsequential. It
is neither. The sightless confront a situation, not a theory. We ought
to study their problems, and help them to lessen their burdens, to
smooth their path, and to multiply their resources, to enable them to
adapt themselves to a new and sometimes a strange environment; to help
them to adjust themselves to a new set of circumstances, which presents
a different problem, as it presents a different situation from those who
possess the sense of sight." "And," the Senator concludes, "the greatest
service we can render to the blind is to help them to help themselves."
And this is where the public can help, though, as I have said, in its
mistaken kindness, it more often hinders, and encourages the blind to
accept alms, instead of making it possible for them to become
self-supporting, self-respecting men and women.
The constantly increasing number of blinded men in the warring countries
has made it imperative to find work in which they can successfully
engage, and trades and occupations hitherto untried have been found to
be both practicable and lucrative. What Sir Arthur Pearson is doing for
the blinded soldiers at St. Dunstan's is little short of marvelous, and
his success should help the cause in all parts of the world. In Eastern
cities, a large number of the blind are gainfully employed, and new
avenues of usefulness are being opened to them. At Ampere, New Jersey,
Dr. Schuyler S. Wheeler has formed what he calls the Double Duty Finger
Guild. This is composed of some twenty blind people, sixteen men and
four women, and they have been taught to wind coils for armatures used
in electric motors and mill machinery. These people earn from a dollar
and a half to two dollars a day, and their work is done as well as that
of the sighted employees, though, just at first, a little more time is
required. They are making up this discrepancy slowly, but surely, and it
is thought they will soon do the work as fast as the sighted operatives.
Unfortunately, on this coast, we have no factories where this winding is
done, as most of the electric concerns here do repair work, which varies
so that it would be difficult for the blind operative to keep changing
from one kind of work to another. Henry Ford employs a number of blind
men in his factory at Detroit. There the men fit nuts to bolts, wind
armatures, assemble different parts of machinery, and fold paper boxes.
In his factory Mr. Ford also employs other handicapped men, and has
machinery especially devised for their use. He believes that all large
factories should employ a certain percentage of handicapped workers, as
its contribution to the rehabilitation movement, and it is to be hoped
his example may be followed by employers all over the country. The
Light-House for the Blind in New York City, the Cleveland Association
for the Blind in Ohio, and other similar associations are doing splendid
work in arousing the interest of the public, and in finding employment
for blind men and women, both in their homes, and in shops with sighted
persons. Mattress making and upholstering have been found particularly
adapted to the blind, and in Boston thousands of mattresses are made and
renovated yearly by blind workers employed in the shops of the
Massachusetts Commission for the Blind. Folding towels in laundries,
wrapping bread, packing catsup bottles and fruit cans are some of the
things being successfully done in the East. And the increasing shortage
of labor will induce employers throughout the country to see the light,
and realize that what the blind operative loses because of lack of
sight, he makes up by increased concentration and faithfulness to duty.
In the West, the people have very little faith in the ability of the
blind, but in time we hope the social consciousness will become less
lethargic, and that the mental and physical needs of this class will be
given the consideration accorded to them in the larger cities throughout
the East. The San Francisco Association for the Blind, a
privately-maintained institution, is doing good work in arousing public
interest, and in its shops the men are taught to make brooms and reed
furniture, and the women to weave rugs and make baskets. It is in
constant search for new fields of endeavor, and this spring it induced
one of the largest canneries to employ over twenty blind people to sort
asparagus, and the same cannery has selected a number of the best
workers to cut fruit in its orchards in the Santa Clara Valley. All this
is very encouraging, but it is only a beginning, as there are hundreds
of blind in this state who should be contributing to their own support.
This is why an enlargement of the plant of the Industrial Home for Adult
Blind in Oakland is so urgently needed, for, after all, the state should
assume the duty of providing its handicapped civilians with employment,
instead of caring for them in almshouses, or permitting them to become
objects of private charity. The state should see to it that its blind
children receive an education which will fit them to earn their own
living. All schools for the blind should be under the direct supervision
of Boards of Education, who should give the same careful consideration
to the problem of educating blind children as is now given to the
education of seeing children. And this is one argument in favor of
classes for the blind in the public schools. Vocational training is of
more importance to the blind child than to his more fortunate brother,
and when this is recognized, one of the barriers to his success will be
removed. Is there any reason why an intelligent blind youth especially
interested in medicine, should not be trained as an anatomist, a heart
and lung specialist, an osteopath or a masseur? He does not need eyes to
listen to heart beats, find the third vertebra, or rub the kinks out of
a refractory muscle. In Japan the government reserves massage as an
occupation for the blind, and in the hospitals of England and France
blind masseurs are given the preference, and their work receives the
highest commendation. Los Angeles has a blind anatomist at the head of
its College of Osteopathy, and several blind osteopaths.
When mentally equipped, all blind students should be sent to college,
and urged to fit themselves as teachers. In every college and university
blind men should occupy chairs in history, English, economics, and
mathematics. I know two blind men in this state well qualified to teach
any of these subjects, who are forced to accept inferior positions,
because educators generally fail to realize that blindness is no bar to
mental attainment, and that the ability to teach does not depend upon
the ability to see with the eyes. This will be better understood when
the coeducation of blind and seeing children becomes more general--God
speed the day! As music teachers, concert players, leaders of orchestra,
or masters of the violin and 'cello, the blind should have an even
chance of success, but their inability to read music at sight, or watch
the director's baton often deprives them of positions which their quick
ear and well trained memory would enable them to fill with profit to
themselves and satisfaction to the public.
And so in all the professions. I know a man who, before he lost his
eyesight, was considered an eminent lawyer, but now his associates
regard him pityingly, and his clients take their business elsewhere.
When the light went out of the eyes of this brilliant man, it did not
take his brain as well. He is fitted to be a consulting lawyer or court
pleader, and could occupy a chair in a college of law. Surely, there is
something radically wrong when these conditions exist! Surely the public
needs to open its eyes, and polish its glasses in order to see more
clearly that there is a mental blindness, more pitiful, more
far-reaching in its consequences, than physical blindness, however hard
or uncomfortable the latter condition may be. Some one facetiously
suggested that I call this lecture "bringing light to the seeing," and,
in a sense, this is what I am trying to do. But the light is carried by
a kindly hand, and the hand is the index to a heart in which there is no
bitterness, no malice, no distrust--a heart brimming over with love,
with hope, with confidence, and with a belief that the public _will_ see
the light, and, seeing it, and reading my message in its beams, will
pass it on to others, adding to it as it goes, until it floods every
corner of our vast state, and result in untold good for my people. And
let me tell you how this light may be disseminated--let me apportion
your share in this labor of love, this highest form of social service,
this movement of re-education now sweeping over the land.
I am so often asked by those who wish to volunteer in their country's
service, "What can I do to help in the re-education of the blinded
soldier?" And I invariably answer, "You can first help in the
re-education of the public, and this will be the greatest service you
can render to the men blinded in battle." In order to know what lines of
work will be available for them when they return, we must look about and
see what the adult blind of our civil communities are doing. If we can
not employ all these who are willing and able to work, how can we hope
to employ an increased number later on? Let us ask ourselves what the
blind can do, and then, how much of this are we permitting them to do?
If we are an employer of salesmen, and one of our employees has recently
lost his eyesight, let us ask ourselves why, when he came to us and
urged us to let him continue to sell our goods, we told him that,
although he had been a faithful worker, and we were exceedingly sorry
for his misfortune, we could not retain his services, because
competition was so great, and so many unexpected things happened, and we
felt we could not entrust our business to any one who did not possess
all his faculties. We meant to be very kind, and we thought every word
we said was true, but was it true? Did that man sell our goods with his
eyes, or did he sell them by using his tongue and his personality to
persuade customers to patronize us? If he had a boy to go about with
him, could he not talk as convincingly, work as hard, and, indeed, might
he not put forth a greater effort to extend our business and make
himself invaluable to us? This is a typical case, and one that occurs
almost daily. So it is in all lines of work the blind man or woman
attempts. A blind piano tuner asks for work from house to house, just as
a sighted tuner has to do, but, whereas we sometimes employ the latter,
we refuse the former, saying, we could not trust our instrument to the
hands of a blind man, and maybe we offer him a small piece of silver to
lessen the hurt we have unwittingly inflicted. Perhaps a man with
defective eyesight asks to clean house or help in the garden, or work on
a ranch, or perform some light task in a store. The same condition
obtains. We are so hurried these days, we must have the work done with
the greatest possible expediency, and so we can not entrust it to any
one who is handicapped, although we are sorry, and really wish we could
do something for such people. And so sometimes, men who started out with
high hopes and lofty ideals are forced to the streets, there to depend
upon the spasmodic charity of the passerby, and to attract this wavering
attention of the public, the man resorts to all sorts of subterfuges,
from holding up pencils and gum to grinding out popular tunes on a
wheezing old hand organ. Sometimes these men have families and feel they
must make this effort to maintain them. Many of them try to sell
newspapers on the corners of our principal streets, but here, too, the
competition is very great, and little boys patrol the curb, holding the
ever-ready paper under the nose of the hurrying pedestrian who, though
he may be conscious of the blind man selling in front of a building,
thinks he can not spare time to go to him for a paper, and so snatches
one from the waiting boy, throws him the pennies, and jumps on a moving
car. Selling newspapers is better suited to a blind man than almost any
other line of business. I mean the man who has never learned a trade, or
who has no special profession. If the government could commandeer this
line of work for its blind civilians, I am sure there would be fewer
itinerant street musicians, gum or pencil venders. Of course, after a
while, the blind man reduced to playing on the streets, becomes
accustomed to the excitement, the roar of traffic, and covers, I will
not say earns, more money than he could by canvassing, piano tuning, or
making brooms. And so, once started on this road, once accustomed to the
acceptance of public charity, it is almost impossible to induce the
street vender or musician to try a more legitimate means of livelihood.
He invariably says, in answer to the protest of those who have the
interest and advancement of the blind at heart, "When you can find me a
job where I can earn as much as I do right here, I'll take it, but until
then, I must live, and I must help to support my family." Meanwhile
these street merchants are creating an erroneous impression in the minds
of the unthinking, but ever sympathetic public, leading it to believe
that begging is all that the blind can do; and so, when asked to employ
a blind person, even in the smallest capacity, people mention the blind
of the street, and say they will gladly contribute to the support of the
sightless either in institutions, or by private charity, but they do not
believe in their ability to perform work of any kind. Of course, this is
not the answer given in every case, but it is the reply generally made
to all such requests. This is the sad state of affairs here and in many
of the large cities throughout the country, and this is why the State
Library is conducting a campaign for the enlightenment of the public.
Whenever possible, I raise my voice in this cause, before clubs and
organizations, high schools and colleges, in order to change this
mistaken attitude, in order to urge a saner point of view. In presenting
this gospel of work for the blind, I put the matter very plainly, prove
to the public that it is to blame for many of the conditions I deplore,
laugh at its incredulity, score its misconception, urge a broader, more
comprehensive sympathy, and usually leave the platform with the
assurance that I have won many recruits in this campaign so dear to my
heart.
As I said in my last lecture, the government has a well-defined plan for
the re-education of its blinded soldiers. But suppose this plan is
carried out, and the men are returned to their home cities, qualified to
pursue a certain line of work, only to find that the public does not
share the government's confidence, is unwilling to give them an
opportunity to prove their ability? The public will cheerfully pay taxes
to care for these men in idleness and seclusion, thus diverting to the
rear of life's battle line these heroes who have given the most precious
of all their physical possessions in their country's cause. The soldier
killed on the field of battle pays the supreme sacrifice all in a
moment, but the sacrifice of the blinded soldier is lifelong. Are we
going to find employment for these returned heroes, or are we going to
add yet another burden to their already heavy load? Are we going to add
the burden of dependence to the burden of darkness? If we want these men
to know that we appreciate the service they have rendered to their
country, let us provide occupations for them, and in order to do this
let us begin by employing the civilian blind, the blind right here in
our midst. Let us study the problem with an open mind, freed from the
old prejudice and unbelief; let us turn the light on ourselves, and see
that it is we who sit in darkness. Let us ask the blind leaders of the
blind what work can be done without eyesight, and let us be guided by
their judgment, their experience. And, as a bit of Red Cross service,
let us employ the blind; let us create a demand for their labor; let us
ask for work made by the blind, and tell our friends to ask for it; let
us buy our newspapers from the men on the streets, and let us give our
magazine subscriptions to blind men who have subscription agencies; let
us patronize blind lawyers, osteopaths, salesmen, piano tuners and
musicians. Let us find other and broader avenues of usefulness for these
our civil blind heroes, who went into the dark with no blare of
trumpets, no applause from cheering multitudes, and who wear no badge of
honor on their breasts. Let us do this, so that when the blinded
soldiers return, we may welcome them with the glad tidings that we have
work waiting for them, that we know they can do it, because blind men
and women here have blazed the trail, and have, by their splendid
courage and boundless enthusiasm, succeeded in changing the attitude of
the public, and removing the last lingering vestige of doubt as to the
ability of the blind to become self-supporting, self-respecting
citizens. In this campaign of enlightenment, this bit of Red Cross
service for the blinded soldiers and the blind adults of our civil
communities, every one of you can help, and I feel sure it will be
unnecessary for me to ask a pledge of co-operation from any one who has
heard me speak this afternoon. The State Library is heartily with me in
every phase of this campaign, and, with its co-operation and
encouragement, I go fearlessly forward, overcoming obstacles, uprooting
prejudices, laboring with heart and mind and voice in the service of the
blind and in the hope of bringing about a clearer understanding of their
needs in the minds of the public.
And now, in conclusion, let me tell you my dream for the future of the
blind, a dream which, please God, will one day come true. I dream of
seeing blind men occupying chairs in our colleges and universities,
blind heart and lung specialists, anatomists and osteopaths, lawyers and
lecturers. In my dream, I see blind salesmen, telegraphers, musicians,
piano tuners and electricians, and other men making brooms, brushes,
mattresses and furniture now so often made by prison labor. And in my
dream, I see blind women teachers, stenographers, dictaphone and
switchboard operators; and other women knitting, crocheting, sewing,
cooking, weaving rugs and making baskets, and doing the work side by
side with their more fortunate sisters, and doing it as well, and often
better. Then and only then will the greatest sting be removed from
blindness; then and only then will the blind beggar depart from our
public thoroughfares, and when all these things come to pass, my dream
for my people will be realized. Aren't you going to help to make my
dream "come true"?
PREVENTION OF BLINDNESS AND CONSERVATION OF VISION IN ADULTS AND
CHILDREN.[2]
Helen Keller, in writing on prevention of blindness, says: "Try to
realize what blindness means to those whose joyous activity is stricken
to inactivity. It is to live long, long days, and life is made up of
days. It is to live immured, baffled, impotent, all God's world shut
out. It is to sit helpless, defrauded, while your spirit strains and
tugs at its fetters, and your shoulders ache with the burden they are
denied--the rightful burden of labor."
[Footnote 2: Reprinted from News Notes of California Libraries, vol. 14,
no. 1, Jan. 1919.]
When I was twelve years old, the well-known oculist, Dr Barkan of
blessed memory, came to examine the eyes of all the children in the
School for the Blind at Berkeley. I was the first to be examined, and I
remember distinctly every word of the great doctor when, after looking
at my eyes, he turned to the superintendent, and said sadly, "Needlessly
blind! her eyesight _could_ have been saved." These words made a
profound impression upon my childish mind, and as I sat and listened,
while child after child was examined, and heard again and again the same
remark, "needlessly blind!" I resolved to know more about this eye
disease with the very long name, ophthalmia neonatorum, to learn its
cause, and see just how it might have been prevented. But we did not
hear as much about prevention as we do now, and, although I did not
forget the matter, it was many years before I had an opportunity to
study it further. When I did, I found that at least one-fourth of the
children in schools for the blind in this country were there, just
because a simple precaution was not taken at the time of their birth.
Five years before I knew there was such a thing as unnecessary blindness
(since I had been told I was blind as the result of a severe cold in the
eyes), a Belgian doctor, Professor Crede, a famous obstetrician of
Leipsic, appalled at the number of children who lost their eyesight
within a few days after birth from a virulent eye infection, determined
to try the effect of a simple prophylaxis, a two per cent solution of
nitrate of silver, dropped in the eyes of every newborn child. The
effect of the prophylaxis used in Dr Crede's clinic was marvelous,
reducing the number of cases from ten per cent in 1880, to one-fourth of
one per cent in 1886.