LEGALLY BLIND

legally blind

What is it that makes us want to pass every test? As a little girl attending St. Christopher's Parochial School in Tonawanda, New York, I felt it was my duty to pass the vision exam each year. The Auxiliary Church Women were sweet old ladies (probably younger than I am today) who administered the vision tests and, bless their hearts, they asked us all to read the same line on the vision chart. My last name started with D, so I had the opportunity to hear the correct response five or six times before it was my turn. I gave the correct answer, and the church ladies proudly declared my vision "20/20." Each year, I passed the exam. I was a smart little girl, and it was my job to make my parents proud of me, and cause them no worry. I did my job well. When I entered Sweet Home Junior High in sixth grade, I was lined up for our vision exams, but this time asked to place my face into a mask-like device that supposedly had letters visible in the view finder. There were no letters, just a grayish blur. When I was eventually taken to the ophthalmologist, the gentle doctor placed glasses on my face and I was horrified. I had never seen such filth, decay, and chaos. Up till that day, I thought the world was a soft, dependable, cushion of love. The sight of the good doctor's whisker stubble, the splotches on my mother's face, not to mention the dirt on the window sills and in the corners of the floor, peeling linoleum, chipped paint, and streaked windows, only led to a bigger shock once I stepped outside. I couldn't live in this world. I just couldn't. At twelve years old, I withdrew. I stopped wearing my glasses whenever I was out of my parents' sight. Eventually, I convinced them I could see just fine without them. Did they believe me? Who knows. They probably thought I was vain. Then, one night, I decided to watch a televison show with my glasses on so I could actually see the screen. It was a warm night, and for some reason I stepped outside without thinking to take them off. And there they were! Real stars. I had always thought people talked about stars because they knew, by looking through telescopes, that they existed. Real stars. Visible stars. In that moment, my mind expanded from a few fuzzy feet to the outer edges of the universe. That didn't change my hatred for the shabby new environment in which I found myself on a day to day basis. For most of my teenage years, my glasses stayed tucked in a dresser drawer. But I became the arbiter of my own reality, and the softer side of life appealed to me. Truly, that's a choice all of us can make. Of course, what we choose to see isn't always as simple as removing our glasses, but how we respond to it is just as personal. I still tend to favor the rose-colored side of life, which gives me space to think. Others see and act with a clear and direct vision that can only be called beautiful. And it's okay, since we're all as different as 20/550 and 20/20. Perhaps one day, we'll be privy to the non-visible world - all that lies beyond our visible spectrum and outside our ken. As mysterious as visible stars, that's something I'd like to see.

The Vision Test:
"Line eight dear,"
Year after year. The church ladies
Tested our eyes, I passed

Till the day I entered
Public School and could not
Memorize the chart

My mother took me
To the ophthalmologist
Who declared me blind

Weeks later, I wore
Glasses that disgusted me
With brute ugliness

It wasn't vanity,
I hated the filth
Visible everywhere

I cried on the way home
My mother had lines on her face
It got worse

Cracks in sidewalks,
Dirt in corners and peeling paint
Weeds, litter, garbage

The world made me cringe
Soft focus lost forever
I couldn't bear it

I took off the glasses
Pretending the abhorrent world
Disappeard

Then, the miracle:
I stepped out at night and saw
Stars for the first time

I had always thought
Stars were metaphorical,
Unseen, but still known

And there they were!
My sight bestowed and mind cleared
Life came into focus

I saw movies,
Friends down school hallways, leaves on trees
And distant vistas

Myopically good girl,
Fear of failure removed
From my opened eyes

The eighth line is
D-E-F-P-O-T-E-C
I won't cheat again

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