By Joyce Scanlan

(Editor’s Note: Joyce Scanlan is the founding Executive Director of Blindness: Learning in New Dimensions (BLIND), and served in that position from 1987 through 2003. She also served as NFB of Minnesota president from 1973 through 2007. She gave this address at the banquet of the 20th anniversary celebration of BLIND on October 25, 2008.)

Sometime during the final days of the year 1970, immediately following the semiannual convention of the National Federation of the Blind of Minnesota (then fondly called Minnesota Organization of Blind or MOB), blind people embarked on an important mission to reform the only training program then available to us in the state, the Minneapolis Society for the Blind (MSB, now known as Vision Loss Resources). Our goals for what we would actually accomplish were pretty basic; but our ultimate dream underwent numerous transformations throughout the ensuing years.

Our single goal in 1970 was to have a voice in the operation of the Society’s programs, because at that time, there wasn’t a single blind person serving on the MSB board. Remember, this was the era in which racial minorities and women, as well as people with disabilities, were speaking out about their right to representation on boards serving them. We had passed a resolution calling upon MSB to appoint a mere three blind people to its board—a very modest request indeed. The response, of course, was “No, we must have board members who can contribute,” and they made it clear that they meant “contribute financially.”

MSB was the only show in town, and clearly it was operating as a traditional charity to help the poor, unfortunate blind people of the region learn of their limitations and make the most of their pitiful lives. The MSB sheltered workshop was the primary job placement for those who went through the adjustment-to-blindness training program.

My personal experience in 1965 was that on my first day in the training center seated across from the program psychologist, I was told, and these were her exact words, “If you’re good with your hands, maybe they’ll give you a job in the sheltered shop.” The “if” and “maybe” rang in my ears for several years to come. Needless to say, this was the first of many turn-offs for me with that program. I had regarded myself as a successful teacher in the public school system for several years prior to becoming blind, and English teachers think they’re pretty smart, especially if they’ve taken the effort to earn advanced degrees, although they may be reluctant to admit their snootiness or uppitiness openly. So I found those words quite insulting. Things went downhill from there, and I was sent home to feel sorry for myself within a month.

I don’t want to dwell on our campaign to secure seats on the MSB board; it was a very long, drawn-out business lasting ten years with litigation, picketing, etc. Ultimately, eight of our guys were actually elected to the MSB board, but they tolerated it only two years before realizing that MSB was in no way going to abandon its tradition of charitable, custodial, old-fashioned methods of serving blind people. After 1982, the Federation took a new approach and directed our efforts toward educating the public to better understand our positive philosophy of blindness.

However, to better explain our motivation in pursuing the need for improved training for blind people, I do think it is necessary to say a bit more about MSB’s treatment of the people who participated in the various programs it offered.

One of the highly objectionable methods MSB used to make sure blind people were paid low wages in the sheltered workshop was to do very unfair speed and time tests to make sure new workers would not qualify for the minimum wage. Larry Kettner’s case was one of many for which the Federation advocated. Larry was forced to sign a waiver saying that he was capable of earning only 79% of the statutory minimum wage while his speed tests showed that he was becoming faster and faster. At the same time, he had been hired in a competitive employment job in private industry. After several years of appeals, etc., MSB was forced to pay Larry back pay to make up for the faulty figuring contained in the waiver he was forced to sign. Larry knew it was wrong, as did many others who were slapped with that minimum wage waiver.

We also heard many unsettling stories of abusive treatment of workers in the sheltered shop. Supervisors enforced silly rules. For instance, in one small area of the shop where traffic was very light, there were two routes to access—one with a few steps, and the other with a small ramp. The bosses said, “The law is that if you’re blind, you take the ramp, not the stairs.” Needless to say, several of us (who were blind) chose to use the steps regardless of “the law.”

Those in the rehab center were also sold short. Any rehab program can be stressful. Federationists worked very closely with and gave our best support to those we knew going through the MSB training program. If any “trainee”—for that was what we were called in those days, not “students” as we now call our program participants—thought he/she could escape the negative counseling available, that person was mistaken, because those in charge made it abundantly clear that everyone was going to get counseling whether or not the person wanted it. Several of our members who were “trainees” in the program ultimately committed themselves to the mental health units of local hospitals.

The stress “trainees” were put through was unbelievable. Disparaging remarks about the “organized blind” were frequently blurted out such as “They (the organized blind) condone begging” (referring to the white cane fundraising drives conducted by the Federation). Also, center staff spoke of “a typical Federationist as one who sat around in his rocking chair with his stereo on one side and his talking book machine on the other.” Such comments were quite effective in convincing many of us that we didn’t want to have anything to do with such an outfit. Later we learned that this was just one of the many “divide and conquer” tactics used by traditional rehab professionals to wield control over their customers.

The overarching problem with everything about MSB was its absolutely and utterly negative attitudes toward blindness. The entire environment, whether in the sheltered workshop or in the adjustment-to-blindness training center, was fraught with negativism toward the very characteristic that brought people to the programs in the first place—blindness. Comments such as “It’s hell to be blind;” “You can’t do that when you’re blind;” “Find a sighted person to help you;” “How much can you see?” “Let Mary do it; she can see better;” “Stay away from areas of construction or places where children may be playing because workers won’t help you, and wagons and tricycles will block your path;” were heard on a daily basis. Everyone was measured by the amount of eyesight they had. Anger permeated the premises, and the general attitude throughout the building was one of unhappiness and a lack of friendliness. Depressing and negative all the way.

Nevertheless, Federationists were not deterred from our hope of finding better alternatives to the training currently available. Our next step was to persuade our state agency that blind people should have the opportunity to attend rehab centers in other states: Iowa, Nebraska, Idaho, Missouri, and Louisiana, when that center opened in 1985.

Then in 1985, our longtime SSB director, C. Stanley Potter, retired, and we found that position open for the first time in more than forty years. I applied with the definite knowledge that someone else would certainly be hired. It was Rick Hokanson who was actually hired to direct SSB.

Federationists decided to visit our friendly Governor Rudy Perpich. He asked us to prepare a written report on what we saw as problems with Minnesota’s services to blind people. I just reviewed that lengthy report we sent to Rudy at the governor’s mansion. (A friend had slipped us the information that if you wanted Rudy to see a letter or any report, you’d better send it to the governor’s mansion, rather than to his office at the capitol.) We actually had two meetings with him within two weeks. But one of the things we said in our report was that blind people needed a new option for training. As you might expect, Rudy Perpich made no promises.

About that same time, the first consumer advisory council for SSB was appointed, and I, representing the Federation, was one of the members. Some time in 1986, Rick Hokanson announced that a new training center would be created with an establishment grant from SSB. Rick and I talked about it, and we agreed that the state of Minnesota should not operate the training center. We never were specific about why we felt that way, but I was thinking of the state bureaucracy and total lack of flexibility, the rigid union contracts, and all sorts of meaningless restrictions on important matters and outrageous and irrelevant regulations in other areas. Rick had visited both the Missouri and the Louisiana centers and apparently had some sense for how a state agency wouldn’t be appropriate to operate such a program.

Federationists had numerous weighty discussions of the potential center. How should this be done? Who should run this new program? Now, we had been accused again and again of being determined to take over the Society or some other agency already in existence. We did agree, I think, that the Federation shouldn’t directly operate a rehab program, that this new program should be a completely separate entity from the Federation, which should remain in its advocacy role as it had always been.

Some of the fine details of our extensive discussions have faded from my memory, but I do remember when three of us were on that airplane on our way to New York City for a NAC demonstration, and we figured that this would be our best chance to come up with a name for this program we were hoping to create. Because the Minneapolis Society for the Blind had changed its name so often, and always to avoid the word “blind,” we were determined that our program would proudly include that word in its title. We decided that the name of the organization should be BLIND, and that those letters would be an acronym and would mean Blindness: Learning in New Dimensions, a very lofty name, I would say, making us stand out in the litany of programs serving blind people. Even among the Federation centers, we are unique. Now, granted, our fancy name has caused problems for some folks: they forget BLIND is an acronym for Blindness, Learning in New Dimensions, and they insist on calling us Blind Ink instead of BLIND, Incorporated. We don’t say Dur or Murs for Dr. or Mrs. Why can’t we say Incorporated when we see Inc. with BLIND, Inc. Well, it’s probably best to write out the entire word to help those with such problems.

Many hours of Council meeting time were spent in designing the program that would be included in the request for proposals to be sent out late in the summer of 1987. Responding to the RFP meant writing an actual book. I don’t know how it happened—it was totally unexpected, but BLIND, Incorporated was the only submission, so we were awarded the establishment grant to operate the program as described in our proposal. That was a very big surprise.

The final months of 1987 when we undertook the challenges of actually bringing the program into existence by putting into operation all the fine words describing the proposed program included in our written proposal presented us with a true challenge. Determination and perseverance do pay off, and we certainly had both. We needed a location for the program; we certainly needed students; we needed staff to teach and operate the center; we needed equipment and supplies; we hadn’t a stick of furniture; and we needed MONEY.

Federationists once again came to the rescue. Everyone searched their garrets, basements, cupboards, drawers, and shelves to gather all the personal items they no longer needed or could get along without. The Federation also provided our first grant of $10,000; we also received $8,000 from Northern States Power Company. We thought we had been greatly blessed. Together we planned and hoped and dreamed and worked hard and hoped and dreamed some more. It was all very rewarding work. I feel very blessed to have been a part of it and all of us should be extremely proud of everything we together have accomplished in designing and bringing into existence this very fine training facility with its outstanding students and staff.

It was great to see Rick Hokanson here today. He was SSB director until about 1992, then he moved on, and today both of us are retired. Rick cut the ribbon when we had dedication ceremonies of our downstairs location at the Skyway News Building. He visited our program many times while he was SSB director. Rick, we really are grateful to you for your role in launching BLIND, Incorporated. I’m sure you were faced with criticism and many hard knocks for supporting us. I certainly know what it’s like being the lone voice in the wilderness carrying the minority message with the majority screaming against you. Tonight in this crowd, you can feel comfortable that you are with the majority. In our book, you will go down in history as the hero who stood up for blind people under very difficult conditions. You should know that we appreciate what you have done and will always hold you in highest esteem.

Everyone has spent this day reminiscing and reviewing the history of BLIND, Incorporated. My employment as executive director began on October 15, 1987—White Cane Day. Five additional staff were hired to teach braille, travel, home management, residential coordinator, and office manager. All six of us gathered for one week of staff orientation on January 4, 1988, the coldest day of the year, in the offices of the NFB of Minnesota in the Chamber of Commerce Building. And one week later, two students and the six staff members gathered in a small two-bedroom apartment on Lyndale Avenue. By the end of the first month, we had five students and needed to move again to a one-bedroom apartment two blocks away to carry out the training classes on 24th and Garfield. The remodeling of our new quarters on the third floor of the Skyway News Building in downtown Minneapolis was not completed until the third week of February. We moved to the first floor of the Skyway News Building in November of 1989 and finally, after purchasing the Pillsbury Mansion on December 27, 1993, we moved in on March 26 the following year. Our mortgage on this building will be paid off within the next year—a reason to have another celebration.

I have 16 years of memories as executive director of this fine program, and if you’ll allow me just a few minutes to review just a few. Some do stand out.

In the early days when we had only four or five students, things would occasionally become a bit dreary; gloom pervaded the classrooms. We decided one day to send the students and staff out to the parking lot to have a snowball fight. Everyone came back energized and ready to move forward. When I later asked one of the students why she thought we had sent everyone out for a snowball fight, her answer was, “So that you could evaluate us.” That person had clearly experienced a traditional training program in her past.

Our first student activity was a trip to St. Cloud on the first Friday night to enjoy the Central Minnesota Chapter’s spaghetti dinner. We rented a van and the students, driver, and one other person took off. Somewhere along the way, the van went into the ditch, and the group had dinner at Fuddruckers. I received a message that “the van had gone into the ditch, but everyone was o.k.” That was all. Needless to say, my blood pressure remained high with worry until everyone returned to the apartments.

Then, there was the day when Melanie, our first student, asked to bring two cats into her apartment. Everyone knows my feelings about such animals. I gulped a few times, extracted some commitments from her about the role of the cats in the training program, and ultimately agreed that she could bring two cats to her apartment. Somehow, those two cats were helpful to Melanie in moving forward with her training. However, to you current students don’t bother to request such a privilege. Animals are now prohibited in the program.

Our camping trips every summer were always eventful and lots of fun. Many of our experiential learning adventures were new to some staff also; I never did rock climbing until we did it as a program activity. Our trips to the Amanas in Iowa were always exciting.

I thoroughly enjoyed the student small meals and seemed to eat lots of lettuce, my “favorite” food.

Selecting the eagle and the freedom bell as our program symbols remain today as historic items specific to BLIND, Incorporated. I remember when Larry Iverson rang the freedom bell with such vigor that the bell broke and had to be replaced. The bell you see out there in the entry way is bell number two. That bell has been instrumental in celebrating countless student accomplishments in travel, braille, home management, industrial arts, and jobs. We have always been proud of the accomplishments of our students.

Of course, we’ve had sadness at times also such as when our first graduate (Melanie) passed away just as she was about to reach her goal of earning her bachelor’s degree, the tragic accident on Lake Calhoun, and the day we all gathered in the conference room to watch the televised unfolding of events on 9/11. The strong support system within the program gave all of us the wherewithal to rise above these tragedies and move on.

We have enjoyed having visitors and students from many states of the U.S. and countries of the world. Our Christmas traditions of cutting down our own Christmas trees, secret Santas, and one-time-a-year dinners prepared and served by staff were always outstanding events. Shawn has graciously continued many of the traditions initiated in the early years.

Yet, to participate in the development of this unique program and consider its growth over the past twenty years is the most thrilling of all. We began as a fulltime comprehensive training program to teach working-age blind people necessary alternative techniques and positive attitudes toward blindness so that they could move on to meet challenges and achieve their personal goals. Over the years, we have added a Life 101 program for high school and college students, a Buddy program for kids 9-13 years old, training for SSB staff, an industrial arts shop, older blind classes, and now a program for English Language Learners.

We have always emphasized employment as a goal for those of working age. For many years, our annual reports have demonstrated high scores in successful employment and independence of our graduates.

We have had some outstanding staff people in our program. I remember good times with many, those in the first year, Dan Harman, Russell Anderson, Paulette, Claudia, Sharon, Jennifer, Dara, Betty, and, of course, those who are still here today, Melody, Emily Wharton, Dick Davis, Al Spooner, Emily Zitek, and certainly Shawn Mayo who is executive director. I probably hold the record—in competition with Dr. Jernigan in Iowa—for firing a large number of people. But, in my mind, the focus was always on the students, and if a staff person was causing problems, I had little patience to spend time on that. Students  always held the highest priority.

If I were to suggest the aspect of this program that is most outstanding as a significant factor in BLIND, Incorporated’s history, I would say it was the very cooperative working partnership we have had with the National Federation of the Blind of Minnesota and our national movement throughout the entire country. BLIND, Incorporated has definitely had ups and downs over the past twenty years; in fact, the grapevine over at SSB had us lasting only until April. They never said which April, of course. There were times when our cash flow made it necessary for staff to hold off on depositing their paychecks; they were always supportive and did not complain. Only one time, in 2002 when the SSB director had cut off spending money on adjustment-to-blindness training, staff training, and the older blind program all at the same time, did we need to seek assistance from our partner. Any time there were financial problems or difficult decisions to make, the Federation was always there to lend help and support. Grants have always been provided so that our students could participate in Washington Seminars, state, and national conventions every year. The Federation is the best gift we have to offer students. Many have benefited from the role models available and the ongoing confirmation that the Federation philosophy of blindness really does work. The Federation and BLIND, Incorporated have indeed made available a new training option never before available to blind people of Minnesota. We have more than met the goal we set for ourselves back in 1986 when we first conceived of the idea that we could actually operate a first-rate orientation-to-blindness training program.

Finally, we all recognize that the leaders of both the NFB of Minnesota and of BLIND, Incorporated have passed on to the next generation. We old fossils can withdraw with the assurance that what we helped to start years ago will move on and grow to greater accomplishments than we have seen in these twenty years of triumph we celebrate today.

Dr. Kenneth Jernigan was a great mentor to me over the years he was with us. He taught me the lesson of the gates, among many other ideas about priorities in administering training programs. He said we must never run away from a fight or a difficult situation; we must always stand up for our beliefs and be willing to fight when we must. Use love when you can, and a club when you must. But always be ready and willing to stand up for your beliefs and principles.

Our struggles as blind people are not yet over. Employment today is still a major problem for our blind brothers and sisters. Technology, although helpful and wonderful, also present accessibility issues for many seeking employment. Attitudes toward blindness are still quite negative, and employers who lack understanding still too frequently do not accept competent and qualified blind job seekers. Blind people continue to face society’s low expectations and are forced to settle for employment beneath their qualifications. Hard work still lies ahead of us, and you, the next generation will carry on the battles that lie ahead. We’ll help when we can, but the leadership is up to you. I have every confidence that you’ll measure up and confront any problems standing in your way, as well as rewarding those who have been helpful. We are all very proud of everything you have done and expect great things from you in the future. I also include the current students now present as part of our future leadership. Their support and assistance with promoting this program among blind people they encounter throughout their lives is crucial in spreading the word about the benefits this program offers. May we all come together again for a 25th year celebration in the year 2012.

Let me leave you with a few quotes from some of my favorite people. These thoughts have frequently guided my actions, so I offer them to help you as you continue building and strengthening BLIND, Incorporated. Thomas Edison said, “Opportunity is missed by most because it is dressed up in overalls and looks like work.” So, don’t be afraid of good hard work. Eleanor Roosevelt said, “No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.” And then my hero, Abraham Lincoln, said, “Always bear in mind that your own resolution to succeed is more important than any other one thing.” And then here is one of my favorites from Dr. Jernigan who said, “We know who we are and what we must do—and we will never go back. The public is not against us. Our determination proclaims it; our gains confirm it; our humanity demands it.”

Thank you very much for bearing with me as I offer just a thumbnail sketch of my reflections of BLIND, Incorporated’s 20 years of triumphs!