Five Lectures on Blindness

by Kate M. Foley

In many schools for the blind the inspirational value of a blind teacher is overlooked or ignored. In this connection Dr. Illingworth says: "it is almost as impossible for a seeing teacher to realize what it is to be blind, and know all the difficulties of his blind pupil, as for a congenitally blind person to enter into and share with one who can see, the beauty of a glorious picture or landscape." Dr. Illingworth continues, "it takes a seeing teacher to become what might be called a naturalized blind person, that is, one able to see things from the blind point of view; though he is never in the favorable position of a blind teacher who can say to a child, 'do it so; I can do it—I am blind like you.'" In the residential schools Dr. Illingworth recommends that the ratio of blind teachers to seeing should be one to two. He says, "their very presence is a continual inspiration and incentive to the pupils," and he adds, "the education of blind children in those subjects in which the methods of instruction are necessarily and essentially totally different from those of the seeing, is best in the hands of a properly qualified blind teacher." The wisdom of this recommendation is recognized in the largest schools of England and France, and some of them have blind superintendents as well. America is slower to recognize the ability of the blind, but this period of reconstruction and readjustment through which we are passing may quicken their sense of the importance of employing blind teachers and superintendents, whenever possible. Superintendents are no longer required to perform clerical work. All these details are left to stenographers and bookkeepers. Neither is the superintendent expected to teach. But he should be a scholar, a man of culture, with broad vision and high ideals, and with a sympathetic knowledge of the difficulties to be met and overcome by the students in his care. It should be the aim of the residential school to train its pupils along lines best suited to their individual needs, and, when possible, to fit them to become partially self-supporting, if not wholly so.

The child in a residential school knows very little of life outside the buildings, knows little of the trials and struggles going on in its own home, perhaps. Its days are well ordered. It is clothed and fed, and is not expected to practice self-denial or to exercise any of the qualities of courage or fortitude which the exigencies of later life demand. Clarence Hawkes says: "courage a blind person should have above everything else. He must be literally steeped in it. It will not do to have just the ordinary, temporary supply allotted to the average seeing man—he will run out in a single day. But he must have courage that is perennial, a ceaseless fount of it—courage for the morning, courage for the noonday, and courage for the evening. Life is a battle and a struggle which never ends. He must fight for hope and cheer, laughter and happiness, every inch of the way along life's path." Another writer has said, "courage is the standing army of the soul, keeping it from conquest, pillage and slavery." But the child in the residential school knows little of all this, has little occasion to know. Dr. Park Lewis says: "The added importance of having blind children educated with those who see is, that they may realize more keenly the real difficulties of life which are to be met, and which have to be overcome. They will not always find kindness and courtesy, and they must be prepared to adjust themselves to the harder conditions when they arise."

When the child finishes the required curriculum of the residential school, and goes forth to his place in the world, he is often unprepared for the struggle, unable to adjust himself to the altered conditions, lacking in patience, perseverance and pluck; the "three P's" of which Clarence Hawkes so often speaks, and without which he claims no blind person can successfully overcome his handicap. The need for this preparation is better known to a blind teacher or superintendent, and for that reason, if for no other, his presence in the school is desirable. He knows the value of higher education to the blind, and he will urge the pupils to fit themselves for college, reminding them that blindness is a physical, not a mental, handicap. And who is better qualified to fire the youthful mind, to strengthen the wavering ambition, and arouse the latent enthusiasm, than one who has made the effort, has fought the fight, and won gloriously!

Although Dr. Warring Wilkinson, who was Superintendent of the California School for the Blind for over forty years, and his brother Charles, who taught for the same period—although neither of these men was blind, they were true teachers and college men, and understood the value of scholastic attainment to the blind. As far back as I can remember, they urged us all to prepare for college, and, to stimulate this desire, they kept in close touch with the work of the university, and often brought essays written by the advanced students, to encourage us in our literary efforts, assuring us with a little practice we could write as well. Often, too, they would take classes to hear a lecture on some subject under discussion, thus forging the first link between the school and the university, in whose shadow our young lives were spent. In preparing us for competition with seeing students, Mr. Charles Wilkinson used to say: "never ask for quarter because of your blindness. Do your work so well that people will say not, 'how wonderful this is considering your affliction,' but 'how perfect in spite of it!'" This thought has remained constantly with me, strengthening and encouraging me, enabling me to overcome difficulties that would otherwise have been impossible to surmount.

It is of vital importance that the blind should have pleasant, well-modulated voices, and for this reason elocution should be included in the course of study. In recent years a number of blind students in eastern schools have been trained as readers and public entertainers, a line of work in which eyesight is not an essential factor. Reading aloud should be encouraged among the pupils, and frequent speed tests given, thus stimulating in them a desire for reading.

The school at Berkeley has included business methods in its course of study, and this is an excellent thing, because the day is not far distant when the ability of the blind to fill positions as typewriters, stenographers, telephone and dictaphone operators, and salesmen, will be recognized. And when this time comes, let us hope that our young people may be ready and eager to prove their worth in these lines of endeavor. If the students are made to feel that they are blazing a trail, and making it less difficult for others to follow, their ultimate success is assured.

Having outlined the aim and purpose of the residential school, and shown it to be a necessary factor in the education of the blind in every state, I wish to call attention to some of the advantages to be derived from coeducation of blind and seeing children.

As early as 1900 Chicago started a special class for blind children as a part of its public school system, thus inaugurating the movement in this country, if not in the world. Since that time many large cities, including Boston, New York, Jersey City, Rochester, Milwaukee, Detroit, Cleveland, Toledo, Cincinnati and Los Angeles, have started similar classes, carrying the children from the kindergarten, through elementary and high school, and preparing them for college. The class in Chicago was started through the efforts of John B. Curtis, a blind teacher, and the Superintendent of Public School classes of Cleveland, Toledo and Cincinnati. Mr. R. B. Irwin, is a blind man, and so it is not strange that a blind teacher of Los Angeles should be the first to recognize the need of such a class in this state.

The State Library was glad to further this forward movement in the education of blind children, and permitted me to devote a great deal of time to organizing the class, and it provided the books and some of the apparatus for carrying on the work for the first year. It still supplies many of the books, though the Board of Education provides its own apparatus. Dr. Albert Shiels, Superintendent of the Los Angeles City Schools, was glad to have a class for the blind in the city, since he has seen how successfully the work was carried on in New York, where more than two hundred children attend special classes, and this in spite of the fact that New York has two state schools for the blind. When the home conditions are favorable, and a special class is available, it is wiser to permit the blind child to remain with its parents, to attend school each morning with its brothers and sisters. In this way there is no break in the family relation and the child does not grow indifferent to home ties, as so often happens when he is sent to a residential school. Mr. Irwin says "the special class is the twentieth century emphasis on the integrity of the home."

On January 2, 1917, the Los Angeles class started with eight pupils enrolled, and on June 30 of this year the number had increased to seventeen, with the prospect of more at the opening of the fall term. Teachers for special classes are generally chosen from the regular school department, their work being usually directed by a blind supervisor. In pursuance of my work as home teacher I found a number of children for whom there was no room in the State School at Berkeley, and before the special class was organized I taught these children in their homes or at the library. Miss Frances Blend, a grade teacher, asked to study with me, since she wished to teach the blind here or in the East. I sent her to teach the children, and in this way she acquired the necessary experience, learned to read and write Braille rapidly, and gained an insight into the psychology of the blind child, so, when the board of education needed a teacher for the special class she was ready and eager for the task. Since then Miss Blend's sister has qualified and is now the second teacher in the blind department, eight to ten children being considered all that one teacher can properly care for.