And as a last thought, permit me to quote the concluding words of Clarence Hawkes' wonderful book, "Hitting the Dark Trail": "If night has overtaken me at noonday, yet have I found beauty in night. The sun at noontide showed me the world and all its wonder but the night has shown me the universe, the countless stars and illimitable spaces, the vastness and the wonder of all life. The perfect day only showed me man's world, but the night showed me God's Universe."
THE BLIND CHILD AND ITS DEVELOPMENT.
As a foreword to this lecture, I shall quote from a paper entitled "Blind Children And How To Care For Them," written by Dr. F. Park Lewis, an eminent oculist of New York City, and a man who has devoted much time and thought to the blind and their needs.
Dr. Lewis says: "It is the mind and the spirit which control, and when these are great, they dominate and rise superior to mere physical deficiencies. The inspiration of great ideals must be held out to the blind, even more than to the seeing, from the very beginning. It is not enough that the blind man or woman shall have physical strength, but his training must be so well balanced as to give him poise as well as vigor. It does not suffice that the blind man shall be as well educated as his fellow who sees. Handicapped by the loss of the most important of his special senses, he must supplement this deficiency by a better training of his mind and body. It is not enough that he should have the good character of the average man. His word and his reputation should be beyond question. He should be independent, and proudly unwilling, except when absolutely necessary, to accept that for which he can not, in some way, return an equivalent. He must be taught to reason with clearness and logical precision, for he must succeed by the aid of his mentality and character, rather than by his manual exertions. These facts are emphasized here, because if such qualities are to be secured, the training which produces them should begin in the cradle." If I could bring it about, a copy of the foregoing lines should be framed and placed on the desk of every teacher of blind children, and such teachers requested to read these words at least once each day.
In considering the development of the blind child, we must recognize the fact that, in mental attainment, at least, he is the peer of the child who sees. But in order to bring this about, the early years of the child must be carefully supervised, and his training calculated to fit him for the tremendous task awaiting him, a task requiring the courage of a Spartan, the wisdom of Solomon, and the patience of Job. Unfortunately, the parents of blind children rarely understand the importance of this early training. They are too often too absorbed in their own sorrow at having a child so afflicted, too sure that loss of eyesight means loss of mental vigor, to realize that their own attitude, their own self-pity, may prove a greater handicap to the child than blindness itself. If a child lives in a house where he is waited upon, and made to feel that mere existence and the ability to eat and sleep are all that may reasonably be expected of him, and that he must depend upon his family for everything, he will grow up helpless, selfish and awkward, and no amount of later training will entirely counteract the pernicious effect produced in these early, formative years. When placed in school with other children, he will be very sensitive to correction, and may become morbid and unhappy, thus giving a wrong impression of the blind in general. If, on the other hand, the child is taught to be self-helpful, permitted to join in the work and play of other children, made to feel that, with greater effort, he may do just what they do, he will soon become cheerfully alert and hopefully alive to all the possibilities of his peculiar position. It is true that natural disposition has much to do with one's outlook on life, but cheerfulness and a certain form of stoicism may be cultivated, and to the blind child these qualities are absolutely essential if he is to attain any measure of success in later life. It would be foolish for me to ignore the difficulties and limitations in the path of everyone deprived of eyesight, either in infancy or adult life, but I know that these very limitations and difficulties may aid in forming a character whose quiet strength and unfaltering courage can not fail to win the admiration and co-operation of all who witness its tireless efforts for success. But in order to achieve success, let me repeat that such training must begin at the earliest possible date.
You may never have thought of it, but the blind child has no model, no pattern. It must acquire everything. It learns nothing by imitation. The normal child copies the gestures and mannerisms of its parents, and so learns many things unconsciously, and with little or no instruction. But the blind child must be taught to smile, to shake hands, to hold up its head, to walk properly, to present and receive objects, and the thousand and one details of daily living so naturally acquired under ordinary conditions. Long before it has reached school age, the blind child should be permitted to romp with other children, to take bumps and bruises as part of the game, and should be encouraged to run, jump rope, and join in all harmless sports, thus acquiring that freedom of movement, muscular co-ordination, and fearless bearing, so necessary if he is to cope successfully with the difficulties awaiting him. His toys should be chosen to instruct as well as amuse, and in this way he should be made familiar with the different forms, the square, the circle, the oblong, the triangle and the pyramid. The Goddard form board and Montessori insets are invaluable at this period. He should be trained to recognize the difference between smooth and rough, soft and hard, light and heavy, thick and thin. He should be given plasticine or clay with which to model, and be urged to reproduce his toys, thus assisting in the muscular development and intelligent use of his fingers—another essential equipment. As soon as possible, the process of dressing should be taught. The child may learn this more readily if a doll is used as a model, and he is required to put on its clothes each morning, and remove them just before his own bedtime. This important process should be made as interesting as possible, and each successful effort greeted enthusiastically, each failure carefully pointed out, its cause discovered, and its repetition prevented, when possible. In this way he acquires system, learns to put his clothes away in a certain place, and to locate them again without assistance. His little fingers should be kept constantly employed stringing beads, putting pegs in a wooden board, cutting paper with kindergarten scissors, and modelling with plasticine. If thus occupied, he will escape the mannerisms peculiar to the blind child whose only amusement has been to put his fingers in his eyes, shake his hand before his face to see the shadow, rock his body back and forth, and whirl around in dizzy circles. I found just such a child, a girl of eight years, who had never done anything for herself, and whose parents refused to send her to school. It took me some time to win the child's confidence, but when I did, I had no trouble to correct many of her habits, and I soon taught her to dress herself and learn to read. When I asked her what she did all day before I brought her the beads and the little scissors, and she answered, "Oh, I just sat in my rocker, and rocked back and forth, shaking my hands." And when I asked why she did not play and act like other children, she began to cry, and said, "Nobody never told me nothin' else to do till you came."
When six years old, a blind child should be sent to the nearest state school for the blind, or to a special class, if there is such a department in the public schools of the city in which it lives. The necessity of sending the child to school thus early can not be too strongly emphasized, and education of blind children should be made compulsory, just as in the case of ordinary children. This is a measure which should be considered by all those interested in child welfare. The unwillingness of parents to send their children away to boarding school at so early an age is one of the strongest arguments in favor of the special classes in public schools. But it is not possible to have such classes in the small cities and towns, and very often the home conditions are often unsuitable for the proper development of a blind child, and so, in every state, a residential school is an absolute necessity.
Such a school should consist of a kindergarten, primary, intermediate and high school department, and the life of the children should conform as closely as possible to that of a large family in a well-ordered home. Those in charge of the children should be impressed with the responsibility of the task they have undertaken and should do their utmost to assist in the work of fitting the little ones for the preliminary skirmish in the battle of life. All children should have constant supervision during the formative period, but more especially does the blind child need watchful guidance in his work and at his play. Little habits must be broken, awkward movements discouraged, self confidence fostered, and every effort made to develop the child along sane and normal lines, so that, in later life, he may have the poise and bearing so often lacking in those who are blind from early childhood.
It is sometimes claimed that it is not essential that a teacher of the blind be possessed of more than an ordinary education, and this is why so many schools for the blind fail to turn out capable, cultured, self-reliant boys and girls. Dr. Illingworth, the noted English educator, gives the following qualifications for a teacher of the blind: "a sound education, self-control in a high degree, a boundless enthusiasm, a determination to succeed, should be kind and sympathetic, and at the same time firm, and should be true to his word." These are qualifications which should be possessed alike by the blind teacher and sighted teacher, and only teachers so qualified should be entrusted with the divine privilege of bringing light to the minds of these helpless little ones. I wish to add a few more qualifications to Dr. Illingworth's list, and they are these: a broad, comprehending sympathy, a sense of humor, and a heart brimming with love for all children—a heart capable of sharing the joy and grief of every child heart. And I wish to emphasize, in a special manner, one of the doctor's qualifications—namely, "a boundless enthusiasm," and to add yet another, a living, breathing faith that teaching is a divine calling, and that the opportunities for good or ill are limitless. To be successful, a teacher should be able to bring himself to the level of his pupil. I once heard a man say of a great teacher, "he had the heart of a boy, and understood our every thought and feeling."