By Emily Zitek

It was a cold day last winter and there was the usual rush-hour activity as I got off the express bus on the Nicollet Mall in downtown Minneapolis. As I was about to cross the street, a nice lady came up to me and seemed very hesitant when she said, "Ma'am, I'm sure you know that it's really icy when you step off the curb. Would you like me to help you cross the street?” Being grateful that someone had warned me of the slippery curb ahead, I replied, "I think I'll be fine getting across the street by myself, but thank you very much for offering, and thanks for the warning about the ice. I'd be happy to walk alongside you to have some company while waiting for the light to change."

Then the lady said, "You know, I was afraid to ask if you needed my assistance, because a few weeks ago, I asked a blind lady if she needed help, and she snapped at me like I did something wrong.” We continued talking for a minute, and I asked how her day was going. I also told her that I had broken my leg a few years ago when I slipped on the ice, and that I am always grateful for warnings about ice in unexpected places.

Every year, we recognize White Cane Safety Day by handing out literature in different public places. We do the March for Independence every July at national convention. We have events to promote braille literacy at bookstores, and we fight for the rights of blind people in Washington, DC every winter. Think of how hard we work to change the public's attitude about blindness. When one of us goes out there and snaps at a courteous pedestrian offering their assistance, that person's bad attitude counteracts everything we as an organization spend so much time and effort doing to help the public understand blindness.

I understand the frustration it can cause when you feel like everyone assumes you need help. But just remember that sighted people get lost driving in their cars all the time. We often don't see it, because most of us use public transportation. But when someone offers their help, their assumption isn't incorrect in that we're no different from anyone else who periodically might need a little help. And by the way, feeling that we need a little help occasionally doesn't mean we're not successful or independent—it just proves we're normal people. I'm not ashamed to accept help if someone offers it when I really am confused about where I am. But on the other hand, if someone comes up without asking, grabs my cane or my arm, and assumes without asking that I need help, getting very upset might be more understandable.

I went to the state school for the blind in Louisiana from kindergarten until the seventh grade, when I was mainstreamed into a public school near my hometown. For seven years, I had not interacted with any sighted children my age. Needless to say, I had a lot to learn. For the first six months of my seventh grade year, I wondered why I just couldn't make any friends. After all, I did okay in school, I used my cane to get from class to class, and most frustrating of all, I had to try to educate my ignorant classmates about blindness. Every time someone passed my desk, he or she wanted to play with the Perkins Brailler. I couldn't walk to lunch without someone trying to jump over my cane. But many times, some really nice kids asked if I needed help to a class or to the cafeteria, and I always snapped at them and said I was blind, not helpless, and that I didn't want their help. Then one day, I was in the bathroom when I happened to see one of my classmates who was very respected by everyone in school. We got to talking, and she said, "You know, Emily, I think you'd make a lot more friends around here if you were a little nicer to people. Some of us are afraid to even approach you, because all you ever do is snap at us, especially when we offer our help.” Her honesty made me go home and reflect upon the way I had been acting and how badly I might be tarnishing my own reputation and that of any future blind students that might attend that school.

Since that day crossing the street, I've observed other blind people in the community snapping at offers for help, and other sighted people have made comments or asked why "we" as blind people have such bad attitudes about accepting help. The bottom line is that the way we as individuals interact with the public affects all of us, even the ones who decline help graciously. Trying to explain to others that this isn't supposed to be a normal reaction from a blind person is very difficult, because doing this is a way of trying to counteract an unpleasant action that will stand out to people around you, and those people won't forget. It's easy to forget that piece of literature about braille literacy someone might have picked up at Border's Books, but unfortunately, that one blind person snapping at that same person will make a much more memorable impression about blind people. So no matter how frustrated you might be about constantly being offered help, just remember that the way you handle it affects everyone in our organization. It's your choice: you can either become hostile, or pleasantly decline an offer for help, while making conversation with that person to let them know that you appreciate the offer.

As an advocate representing blind operators in the Business Enterprise Program of Minnesota, many rehabilitation counselors and other staff working with blind people have been sent to my location for a day of job-shadowing experience. Unfortunately, some of these people have inquired about our attitudes regarding the offer for help from a sighted person. I've been asked on more than one occasion: "Is it okay to offer to assist a blind person if it appears that they need help? I'm afraid they might get angry with me.” Again, this says a lot about what sighted people in our community are observing. We work hard to assure that people won't think of us as being helpless, but we certainly don't want to be portrayed as being a group of angry people, either. As a way of continuing to change what it means to be blind, we really need to think about how we interact in public. There are days I get frustrated, maybe because I had a hard time at work, or because the snow makes it inconvenient to get around, but that's no reason to get frustrated with someone who is just trying to help. They can't read our minds. They don't always know or understand our abilities as blind travelers. Instead of getting angry, my suggestion is to use this as another opportunity to educate.