> 17 Easy Ways To Make A
Blind Person's Day
>
> 1. When introducing yourself, use loud, exaggerated
speech. Since we're blind, it's safe to assume we're a little dim, too.
>
> 2. Don't speak directly to us. It's always best to talk
over our heads like we're not there at all, especially if you are offering a
service. Example:
> "What would she like to order?" Be sure to
ignore our attempts to answer for ourselves.
>
> 3. Grab or otherwise manipulate our bodies whenever
and wherever you deem necessary. For example, if you intuitively perceive that
we're going the wrong way (even if you haven't asked where that is) just snatch
the nearest limb and lead on, Macduff!
>
> 4. If you aren't in a position to grab us, you can
always shout instructions in the hope that we'll know what you're talking
about. If we look baffled, just keep repeating the instructions in an
increasingly frantic tone. We'll clue in eventually.
>
> 5. Remind us often how grateful we should be that
people are willing to provide accommodations for us. While it's unlikely that
we will ever, ever forget this for more than five minutes at a time, it's a
good idea to slam the thought home when we're not expecting it. It builds
character.
>
> 6. Stage loud conversations about
us while we're in the room, because we won't hear. If we hear, it's
okay, because we won't understand. If we understand, it's okay, because we
won't care.
>
> 7. Keep all conversation firmly focused on
blindness. If we try to interject by discussing our education or interests,
just redirect us. We get carried away trying to be all normal, so it's helpful
to keep us on track!
>
> 8. Be sure to describe all the other blind people
you've ever met, in extravagant detail. We couldn't be more fascinated by that
blind guy who skied, and that other blind guy who went to school with you, and
that blind girl you met on the train once-the one with the cute puppy.
>
> 9. Make a habit of asking us why we're
"here". If we're on the bus, ask us why we're out alone. If we're at
work, ask us how we got the job. If we're in class, ask us why we're in
university. If we seem offended, ignore us:
> deep down inside, we really
enjoy presumptuous interrogation!
>
> 10. Dispense advice about how we should live our
lives; the less you know us, the more valuable your feedback will be. If you
need a good starting point, you can begin by analyzing our mobility tool of
choice (cane or dog) and emphatically demanding that we switch. We love that.
>
> 11. Involve yourself in our love lives, specifying
exactly the type of person we should date and why. If you think we should date
a sighted person because they'll be able to take care of us, we'll want to hear
all about it.
> If you think we should date a blind person because
we should "stick to our own kind" we will be all ears!
>
> 12. Give us things-money, coupons, whatever-because
you pity us and want to make our day better. Don't be phased
by any apparent expressions of confusion. ("Oh, that's just my gratitude
face!")
>
> 13. Stop us on the street and thank whomever we're
with for helping/taking care of/being so kind to us. It's not as though we have
real friends who genuinely enjoy our company. No: if we're out with a sighted
person, they are fulfilling a purely charitable role. They will appreciate your
praise, and we will feel extra extra grateful!
>
> 14. Place your hands on us in any public place and
pray. If we gently explain that we don't want to be prayed for, rest assured that
it's just the secular cynicism doing the talking. When our sight is
miraculously restored, you'll be the first to know.
>
> 15. Make as many potentially dangerous practical
jokes as you can think of.
> A few good ideas include warning us of imaginary
obstacles ("Watch out for that tree-just kidding!"), concealing our
possessions, and encouraging us to "find" you while you run gleefully
around us in circles. These were a staple of primary school, and I treasure
many pleasant memories from that era. Do me a favour,
and bring back the nostalgia!
>
> 16. Refer to us as "that blind person"
even after you know our names.
> Blindness is so integral to our identities that our
names are really just decorative, so there's no need to remember or use them.
If we fail to answer to "Hey, blind girl/guy!" just keep trying.
We'll learn to love it.
>
> 17. Assume that our default status is
"Help!" If we reassure you that we're okay, thanks, don't fall for
it. Insisting upon rescuing us every time we cross paths places us into a
position of dependence, which is exactly where we belong.