Five Lectures on Blindness Part 2

The State Library selected me as home teacher, not only because of my years of experience with the blind, but because, blind from early infancy, I was familiar with the handicaps and discouragements that overwhelm the adult but recently deprived of eyesight. The pupils have confidence in a blind teacher, because they know that every step in their difficult path is familiar to her feet. The qualifications for a home teacher are, briefly, these: personality, adaptability, tact, a sense of humor, a broad, comprehending sympathy, a strongly hoping heart, unlimited patience, and a determination to do what is best for her pupils, no matter what the opposition, or how hard the task may be.

"He who can plant courage in the human soul is the best physician," and this is one of the chief duties of the home teacher. Some knowledge of nervous diseases is also essential, and it is often necessary to exercise the greatest care and patience in giving the first few lessons, as an unwise word, or a failure to understand conditions, may lead to untold misery. This is especially true in cases of sudden blindness, as the pupil is often afraid to move about his own room, confused by the altered conditions, and bewildered by a mult.i.tude of sounds. .h.i.therto unnoticed. It is absolutely necessary to have the co-operation of the family, and I am often obliged to insist that changes be made in the household arrangements, in order to help a pupil through the trying period of readjustment. This is sometimes fraught with difficulties for both pupil and teacher, but the latter should never lose sight of the comfort and benefit of her charge, and should care nothing for unreasonable objections or selfish protests.

The blind adult is in need of some one who, while recognizing the undeniable calamity and loss, is yet ready to lend a steadying hand, encourage the uncertain feet to their old, free movements, lead the troubled thoughts into other channels, and find new methods of doing old things. Thus encouraged, the blind adult will soon resume his normal att.i.tude, realize that much good work may yet be done, and that others have blazed a trail which he may follow, if he will. But if his family and friends feel that, because eyesight is lost, all is lost, and tell him that, because of his affliction he can do nothing, he will do nothing. But if they tell him he has a handicap, and that they will help him to work it off, all his fighting blood will come to the rescue, and he will say, with Emerson, "the king is the man who can." I give this sentence to all my pupils, and their spirit leaps to the call, and, holding to my hand for the first few, uncertain steps, trusting in my a.s.surance that very soon they will find their way along this new path, the bent shoulders straighten, the bowed head is lifted, the darkness is dispelled by the light of purpose, soul sight replaces physical sight, and the pupil is ready to face life again, undaunted and unafraid. What a wonderful privilege, what a rare opportunity for service, to the teacher alive to the possibilities of her unique position! "When the song goes out of your life, you can not start another while it is ringing in your ears; but let a bit of a silence fall, and then, maybe, a psalm will come, by and by." To live by a song is all very beautiful and wonderful, but to live by a psalm is braver and worthier. And, in the case of the blind adult, the readjustment period may be called the interim between the song and the psalm.

During these trying months, the blind adult should not be left alone, to fight his way "out of darkness, through blood, into light." He should have immediate and competent care at the hands of one who is familiar with his needs, and familiar, too, with the possibilities of his altered condition. An occupation, however light, is an absolute necessity.

Enforced idleness is an added affliction, and one not easily borne. The government realizes this fact, and its program for the blinded soldier includes many forms of handcraft, to be taught in the hospitals. Netting is taught, and the soldiers are encouraged to whittle. I was glad to see this latter occupation included in the "first aid" program, as I have recommended it for many years. When a man whittles, he whistles, maybe not just at first, but some day, almost before he realizes it, he finds himself whistling, and he is then well on the road toward a sane acceptance of the new conditions. I have found whittling to be as soothing to masculine nerves as knitting or crocheting to feminine ones.

The ability to use the hands in some light work, removes the feeling of helplessness and enables the adult to keep his mind on his fingers; and this effort at concentration is often the means of preserving reason, and reviving in the soul the desire to take up the struggle of life again.

At this stage, the adult should be induced to learn to read raised type, and to write letters to his friends. There are several writing devices by means of which a blind person can once more use pencil or pen, and the ability to do this marks another milestone in his progress.

When the adult is able to read and write once more, perhaps to use the typewriter, he feels encouraged, and begins to ask what other blind men are doing, and to wonder what avenues of usefulness still remain open to him. Whenever practicable, I induce the men to resume their former occupations, or suggest other lines of work suited to their altered condition. One young man who was an electrical engineer before his blindness, now wires houses in Los Angeles, his work always pa.s.sing the inspector, despite the opposition of sighted compet.i.tors. He has his own shop, and there he a.s.sembles chandeliers, repairs motors, and charges storage batteries. It takes him longer to do the work than formerly, but its character is the same, and his heart sings with the joy of the task, and he is working off his handicap, in the hope that others may follow where he leads. In May he cleared one hundred and fifty dollars, above all expenses. Another young man supports two small children raising poultry, designing his own roosts, coops and troughs. Another man is making good selling janitor and sanitary supplies to hotels and apartment houses. Two of the men are doing well in a house to house canva.s.s for brushes of various kinds. Several men are in the real estate business, and one has bought a home and is supporting his aged father.

Another does expert work with the typewriter and dictaphone.

I encourage the women to knit, crochet, sew and cook by proving to them that this is possible without eyesight, and I feel certain that, through such efforts, many a domestic tragedy has been averted. I induce the older men, or those who can not take up any line of business, to work in the garden, chop wood, cut lawns, go to the near-by stores, and make themselves a necessary factor in the household. The possibilities of our work, and the real good accomplished, can not be told in words, but its effects may be seen in many homes where men and women, strengthened and encouraged, are once more a.s.suming their rightful places in the household, sharing the work and the responsibility, just as in the days before blindness came upon them.

In order to bring the work within reach of those to whom it is not possible to give oral instruction, we have a correspondence course for pupils in this and neighboring states. In this way, we are reaching people from Humboldt to San Diego county in this state, and the list includes persons from Arizona, Washington, Nevada and Oregon. This course is well known to every county librarian in the state, and even custodians of very small branches send us the names of blind persons in their vicinity. Among the correspondence pupils is a man who was superintendent of a power plant before losing his eyesight, and he still holds the position, despite his handicap. He tests meters in three power houses daily, walking a distance of three miles in order to reach them all. I taught him to read and write two systems, to use a writing board, and he has now mastered the typewriter. He is a brave man silently fighting his way along the dark trail, and I am privileged in being permitted to guide his unaccustomed feet over the rocks and crevices I have long since learned to avoid. Another of the pupils is in the insurance business, and is also one of the Four Minute men in his country's service. I could give you many more instances of the splendid courage of these men and women who, though deprived of the most important of the special senses in adult life, are cheerfully doing their best, wasting no time in straining after the fruit just over "Fate's barbed wire fence."

Our work carries us into hospitals and almshouses, and, through the co-operation of charitable organizations, we find the poor and, in addition to teaching them to read, we endeavor to better their condition, and the charities are always glad to second our efforts. The teacher in Los Angeles goes regularly to the County Hospital and County Farm, and up here I teach in the San Francisco Hospital, Relief Home, and in the San Leandro Infirmary, and it is a great joy to minister to these lonely, friendless souls. In the Relief Home I have a splendid cla.s.s, and I go there once each week, and read to all the men in the ward, blind and seeing, before giving the lessons. Two of the men are knitting, one is making squares for the Belgian baby blankets, and the other a m.u.f.fler for the Navy League. When I asked for volunteer knitters, one old colored man said, "Madam, my hands are not steady enough to knit, but I can hold the yarn for some man to wind."

I am also teaching in the State Industrial Home for Adult Blind in Oakland, and I look upon the afternoon spent there as the redletter day of the week. I go from there each Tuesday with a fresh supply of courage and inspiration. The men collect funny stories to tell me, and the women show their appreciation in countless, little ways. The State Library is proud of its borrowers in this inst.i.tution, and not long ago had some pictures taken, showing the men reading[1] and the women knitting. It is an inspiring sight to see the men waiting for their lessons. They come in from the shop, where they have been sorting broom corn, sewing or tying brooms--young men and old--all eager to avail themselves of the services of the teacher, anxious to learn everything possible that will help to broaden their outlook on life--fine, brave fellows, all of them.

Many have become blind within recent years, victims of industrial accidents in factories, quarries or mines. The thought of the blinded soldier has roused these men to renewed effort, in the hope that their success as broom makers may encourage other blind men who must learn a trade after the war. And their broom shop is a wonderful place to visit, with seventy blind men, and a blind foreman to inspire and encourage the workers. The business of the inst.i.tution is princ.i.p.ally wholesale, although some of the blind men have worked up a good retail trade in Oakland. The sales of the inst.i.tution average $6,500 per month, and with increased capital, more material and a larger plant, it could handle three times its present business. The board of directors will ask the legislature to increase the appropriation, to enlarge the plant, and to provide an industrial teacher to go into the homes of the blind, teach them weaving, basketry, chair caning and knitting, the Home to market the products, deducting the cost of material from the amount paid to the workers. This industrial teacher is greatly needed, and it is hoped the legislature will make it possible for the Home to enlarge its sphere of usefulness and provide employment for many who are not inmates, but who need to contribute to their own support.

[Footnote 1: See ill.u.s.tration, p. 4.]

The men of the Home are not alone in their desire to help in the hour of their country's need. More than a dozen women are knitting for the men in the trenches. They are an Auxiliary of the Navy League, and their work is the finest of any turned in by the thousands of knitters in the bay region. They knit socks and sweaters, helmets and m.u.f.flers. One of the women made five pairs of socks in one week, with never a dropped st.i.tch anywhere. This same woman made three sweaters in ten days, all perfect garments. The wife of the superintendent is the teacher, and two of the blind women help the others by picking up dropped st.i.tches, straightening puckers, and suggesting easier methods to the inexperienced workers. Those who can not knit, snip rags for the ambulance pillows, hem Red Cross handkerchiefs, and sew on hospital quilts. In addition to this, a blind invalid in San Francisco rips up work poorly done by seeing knitters, and the members of our wonderful auxiliary make perfect garments from the used wool. This stimulates them to do their very best, for they know they are proving to the public that the fingers of the blind worker are deft and sure, and that, given the opportunity, they can knit as well, and often better, than their more fortunate sisters. They feel, too, that they are doing their best to promote the comfort of the soldiers, doing it evenings, after working in the shop all day, where they cane chairs and make toy and whisk brooms.

I am sure we need not go to the hospitals of France in search of blind heroes--we have them right here in our midst, and are proud of them. The State Library permits me to devote all the time necessary to keep the women supplied with wool, and return the garments to the Navy League.

The library regards this as a part of its campaign of enlightenment, and it is confident untold good will result, both to the public and to the blind. In addition to their work, both men and women read a great deal, and dozens of books are mailed to and from the Home each day.

And so the State Library is doing its share toward the re-education of the blind adult, has been doing it for the past thirteen years. It provides the best books available in the various types. It has over eight thousand books in circulation, and its list of borrowers numbers more than one thousand. The keynote of this department is Service, and each borrower is made to feel that his success is of vital importance to the Library, and when a new reader is added to the list, a note is usually sent, welcoming him to the family circle. For we are all like one large family circle--with common aims, common interests and a common goal--namely, to spread far and wide the gospel of home teaching, to do our best in order to help others similarly placed, and to prove ourselves worthy of the help so generously given by the State Library.

Another potent factor in the work of re-education is the Matilda Ziegler Magazine, a periodical in raised type published since 1907, through the generosity of Mrs. Matilda Ziegler, head of the Royal Baking Powder Company of New York. This magazine is printed in New York City, and sent to the homes of more than twelve thousand persons in the United States and Canada. It is like any other magazine, with current events, timely articles, short stories, poetry, a woman's page, and a page of humor. In addition to this, every month there is an article telling of the success of some blind person, the account written by the man or woman in the form of a letter to the editor. And the manager, Mr. Walter G. Holmes, is a man with a heart of gold; he has his finger on the pulse of the blind of the country, and he believes in them, loves them, and brings out the best that is in them. Every number contains a map of some of the warring countries, and so the readers are kept in touch with all the vital issues of the day. Many a man is induced to learn to read raised type just to read this magazine. And so Mrs. Ziegler's philanthropy can not be too highly commended, and her name and that of Mr. Holmes are enshrined in the hearts of the blind. Her service to them is incalculable.

The government is making extensive preparation for the re-education of our blinded soldiers, both in the hospitals of France and the hospital school at Baltimore. The grounds and some of the buildings of this school were given to the government by Mrs. T. Harrison Garrett of Baltimore, and no expense is being spared in providing every care and facility for the training and comfort of the blind soldiers who are to be rehabilitated and returned, not to the battlefields of France, but to the battle ground of life. The government plans to begin the re-education in the base hospitals, to continue it at the ports of embarkation, and complete it in the hospital school at Baltimore. The training in this school is to be patterned after that of St. Dunstan's in London, where the work of re-education, under the direction of Sir Arthur Pearson, himself a blind man, is meeting with the greatest success. The Red Cross Inst.i.tute for the Blind is on the same grounds as the Hospital School, and is supplementing the work of the government in a most able manner. Typewriting, dictaphone, switchboard operating, telegraphy, osteopathy, ma.s.sage, and salesmanship are to be taught to those who are fitted for these branches; and trades and occupations, including piano tuning, winding coils for armatures used in electric motors, joinery, mat and mattress making, broom and basket making, rug weaving, and shoe cobbling are to be taught to those who are not fitted for the professions. The government will send over to France at least one blind teacher for each base hospital, for his inspirational value to the men during the first trying months of the readjustment period. Blind teachers will be employed in this country, too, and the government is already looking about for those best qualified for such positions. All blind soldiers will be given an opportunity to learn to read and write the raised system, and provision is being made for an enlarged circulation of books, and for newer publications to be embossed in the universal Braille system. In this work, the volunteers who learn to write Braille can materially a.s.sist, by copying short stories, timely articles, and nonsense verse to be distributed among the blind of their communities, and for the pleasure of the returned soldiers.

When the men have been a sufficient time in the hospital school, they are to be returned to their own cities and towns, and the government, through its agent empowered to find employment for handicapped soldiers, will endeavor to secure work for them in existing industrial inst.i.tutions and plants in the various states. It is also planned to place capable blind men in shops with the seeing, whenever possible. I say whenever possible, for it will take time and much effort to persuade employers to include blind men among their employees. But the day is not far distant when the public will see the wisdom of providing work for its handicapped men and women, and condemn those who fail to co-operate with the government in securing positions for those qualified to fill them. The government is generous in its appropriation of funds to carry on this re-education, but it does not include the civilian blind in this program. The blind adult in civil life must be employed or cared for by the civilian population, and this brings me to the discussion of the att.i.tude of the public toward the blind since three-fourths of the blind of America could be gainfully employed right now, if the public would only believe in them, would only give them an opportunity to prove their ability. With his remaining faculties keenly alert, with a courage and fort.i.tude born of many trials, the blind adult is prepared to face life squarely, undaunted and unafraid, asking only to take his place on the firing line, to march shoulder to shoulder with his seeing brother, and to do a man's work in the world.

THE ATt.i.tUDE OF THE PUBLIC TOWARD THE BLIND.

In discussing this subject I realize I have a most difficult and delicate task before me--a task which only a blind person can adequately perform. I approach it with no misgiving, with no unkind feeling, for, as I have previously stated, I believe the public needs, not so much to be instructed, as to be reminded, and I believe it will be glad to have some of its mistaken ideas corrected, and thus bring about a better understanding between the two cla.s.ses.

In the first place, I wish to mention some popular fallacies concerning the blind. Chief among these is the idea that all blind people are so much happier than sighted people. This belief seems very general, and comes, I suppose, as a result of the feeling of the average human being that, if deprived of eyesight, he could never be induced to laugh again.

The blind adult soon realizes that "humor is a shock absorber," and that "mirth is the soul's best medicine." When my pupils fail to recognize the efficacy of humor, I establish a rule that they must laugh at least once during each lesson, and very soon they agree with Charles Lamb that "a laugh is worth a hundred groans in any market." One of my foreign pupils said to me when I spoke of his cheerful att.i.tude, "Madam, I laugh that I may not weep." And this is the key to much of the cheerfulness of the blind, whose philosophy is not often understood by their sighted friends. There is nothing really remarkable about making the best of a trying situation, unless it is the small percentage of persons who do so. People feel so sorry for the blind that they are often unable to address them at all, or, when they do speak, convey a whole world of well-meant but misdirected sympathy in a few ill-chosen words. This misdirected sympathy is one of the hardest things the blind adult has to bear, and often when I urge a man to go out among his friends as he did when he could see, he answers, "I can't do it just yet. I can't bear the pitying tone. It would make me lose my grip, and I must not let go." And sometimes I go to his friends and explain the situation, and persuade them to call on their friend, take him out with them, talk to him of the ordinary, commonplace happenings, keeping their sympathy well disguised, or, rather, showing a comprehending sympathy, a sympathy that recognizes a brave man's effort to accept his fate unwhimperingly.

Another popular belief is that the blind are naturally very religious.

Unfortunately, this belief seems to be shared by those who selected many of the books to be printed in raised types, since about one-half of the books selected are of a religious character. The blind are naturally introspective, and their power of concentration is greater than that of the average person, but I have not found them to be unusually religious.

I do not think that blindness increases or decreases the religious tendency.

A third fallacy is that the blind can tell colors by feeling. This is absolutely impossible. I have heard of men who could tell the difference of color in horses, but, upon questioning them closely, I found that the texture of the hair varied in light and dark colored animals. Of course, there is an odor about some colored dyes, such as black and indigo blue.

Some of the blind are themselves responsible for fostering this belief, but they do it to test the credulity of the public, and they do not know the real harm they are doing to the cause.

It is a common belief, too, that all blind people like music, and are especially gifted in this art. I do not believe that the percentage of really musical blind people is greater than that of persons who see.

Sometimes a blind man or woman will study music either as a pastime, or in the hope of making a living, but the lack of eyesight does not increase or diminish one's musical ability.

In the lecture on the psychology of blindness, I endeavored to prove that the blind were not possessed of greater faculties than their seeing fellows, but that loss of eyesight made it imperative to cultivate the remaining senses to a very high degree, and that such cultivation led to a greater keenness in the interpretation of the information furnished the remaining senses. When told that the blind do many things well and quickly by employing methods different than those who see, the information comes as a shock, when it is not entirely discredited. There is an idea prevalent among so-called well informed men and women that a loss of eyesight carries with it a loss of mental vigor, and a total inability to engage in any of the world's work. This belief, and the many foolish notions which it breeds, presents one of the greatest difficulties to be met, and, if possible, overcome, by the blind man or woman obliged to earn a livelihood. So potent is eyesight considered that, without it, some people think it impossible to perform even the simplest duties, and the person obliged to subst.i.tute fingers for eyes, and memory for pad and pencil is regarded as a marvel of intelligence and skill, and as possessing a sixth sense. Anything done by the blind, from recognizing a voice to remembering a street number, is considered wonderful by the average person, and this att.i.tude is very trying to the blind adult who is striving to adjust himself to new conditions, and train his remaining faculties to the highest possible degree of efficiency. The commiseration and incredulous words of his friends is one of the greatest trials which the blind adult is called upon to bear, and it is not strange that he is often embittered and discouraged, and unwilling to subject himself to the thoughtless comments and undisguised pity of his former a.s.sociates. These a.s.sociates do not realize that their att.i.tude has changed or that they are adding another burden to the already heavy load borne by their friend. They are sorry, honestly sorry, and want so much to help, but to their minds blindness is the greatest of all afflictions, and loss of eyesight is accompanied by a corresponding loss of physical ability and mental vigor, unless the person so afflicted is unusually gifted, and, in that case, he is regarded as the marvel of the age. Unfortunately, the percentage of gifted people is no greater among the blind than among the seeing, and so it is not strange that many of the former cla.s.s are unable to cope with the difficulties and discouragements that blindness entails, when thousands of seeing people succ.u.mb to what they consider the unequal struggle for existence. As a cla.s.s I honestly believe that blind people are more courageous than seeing people, and I am sure that a greater demand is made upon their stock of courage. This demand will be lessened when the public learns to look upon blindness as a physical, not a mental handicap, and when, instead of compelling persons so handicapped to sit on the side lines holding their broken swords, it leads them forward, places a new sword in their hands, and brings them the glad tidings that they are needed on the firing line. Loss of eyesight is always deplorable, but it is not so terrible as the isolation which generally follows it, an isolation due, in large measure, to misconception, lack of information, and misplaced sympathy on the part of the public, generous to a fault in bestowing alms, but slow to believe in the ability of the blind, and the wisdom of employing them.

If the public could be brought to look upon the blind, not as an isolated cla.s.s whose affliction ent.i.tles them to the pity and generous alms of those more fortunate, but as men and women, with normal aims and desires, just as full of hope, just as eager to work, and just as interested in things as when they saw them through the natural medium, their handicap would be lessened and their lives much happier. Most people think all that can be done for the blind is to divert them, amuse them, provide for them in inst.i.tutions, or encourage them to accept private charity. This lack of understanding on the part of the public is the greatest drawback to the advancement of the blind, and often leads to untold misery. Occupation the blind should have, must have, if they are to enjoy any degree of happiness, or retain their self-respect. Loss of eyesight does not deprive a man of his desire to earn his daily bread, or to provide for those dependent upon him. He is willing and eager to work, and should be given the chance. A French physician, himself without eyesight, said: "So long as the blind can still bring their stone, however small it may be, to the building of civilization, or of bringing happiness to their kind, they feel that they live; and whatever be the wounds received, they are not out of the battle of life--the inequality of arms only increases their ardor." This inequality of arms should, and usually does, act as a spur to the courageous man or woman, but to the mind of the average sighted person, this inequality seems to apply inability, and so very little is expected of the blind, and little thought is given to their possibilities.

Senator Gore, the blind Senator from Oklahoma, says: "It is a mistake to tell the sightless their loss is insurmountable or inconsequential. It is neither. The sightless confront a situation, not a theory. We ought to study their problems, and help them to lessen their burdens, to smooth their path, and to multiply their resources, to enable them to adapt themselves to a new and sometimes a strange environment; to help them to adjust themselves to a new set of circ.u.mstances, which presents a different problem, as it presents a different situation from those who possess the sense of sight." "And," the Senator concludes, "the greatest service we can render to the blind is to help them to help themselves."

And this is where the public can help, though, as I have said, in its mistaken kindness, it more often hinders, and encourages the blind to accept alms, instead of making it possible for them to become self-supporting, self-respecting men and women.

The constantly increasing number of blinded men in the warring countries has made it imperative to find work in which they can successfully engage, and trades and occupations. .h.i.therto untried have been found to be both practicable and lucrative. What Sir Arthur Pearson is doing for the blinded soldiers at St. Dunstan's is little short of marvelous, and his success should help the cause in all parts of the world. In Eastern cities, a large number of the blind are gainfully employed, and new avenues of usefulness are being opened to them. At Ampere, New Jersey, Dr. Schuyler S. Wheeler has formed what he calls the Double Duty Finger Guild. This is composed of some twenty blind people, sixteen men and four women, and they have been taught to wind coils for armatures used in electric motors and mill machinery. These people earn from a dollar and a half to two dollars a day, and their work is done as well as that of the sighted employees, though, just at first, a little more time is required. They are making up this discrepancy slowly, but surely, and it is thought they will soon do the work as fast as the sighted operatives.

Unfortunately, on this coast, we have no factories where this winding is done, as most of the electric concerns here do repair work, which varies so that it would be difficult for the blind operative to keep changing from one kind of work to another. Henry Ford employs a number of blind men in his factory at Detroit. There the men fit nuts to bolts, wind armatures, a.s.semble different parts of machinery, and fold paper boxes.

In his factory Mr. Ford also employs other handicapped men, and has machinery especially devised for their use. He believes that all large factories should employ a certain percentage of handicapped workers, as its contribution to the rehabilitation movement, and it is to be hoped his example may be followed by employers all over the country. The Light-House for the Blind in New York City, the Cleveland a.s.sociation for the Blind in Ohio, and other similar a.s.sociations are doing splendid work in arousing the interest of the public, and in finding employment for blind men and women, both in their homes, and in shops with sighted persons. Mattress making and upholstering have been found particularly adapted to the blind, and in Boston thousands of mattresses are made and renovated yearly by blind workers employed in the shops of the Ma.s.sachusetts Commission for the Blind. Folding towels in laundries, wrapping bread, packing catsup bottles and fruit cans are some of the things being successfully done in the East. And the increasing shortage of labor will induce employers throughout the country to see the light, and realize that what the blind operative loses because of lack of sight, he makes up by increased concentration and faithfulness to duty.

In the West, the people have very little faith in the ability of the blind, but in time we hope the social consciousness will become less lethargic, and that the mental and physical needs of this cla.s.s will be given the consideration accorded to them in the larger cities throughout the East. The San Francisco a.s.sociation for the Blind, a privately-maintained inst.i.tution, is doing good work in arousing public interest, and in its shops the men are taught to make brooms and reed furniture, and the women to weave rugs and make baskets. It is in constant search for new fields of endeavor, and this spring it induced one of the largest canneries to employ over twenty blind people to sort asparagus, and the same cannery has selected a number of the best workers to cut fruit in its orchards in the Santa Clara Valley. All this is very encouraging, but it is only a beginning, as there are hundreds of blind in this state who should be contributing to their own support.

This is why an enlargement of the plant of the Industrial Home for Adult Blind in Oakland is so urgently needed, for, after all, the state should a.s.sume the duty of providing its handicapped civilians with employment, instead of caring for them in almshouses, or permitting them to become objects of private charity. The state should see to it that its blind children receive an education which will fit them to earn their own living. All schools for the blind should be under the direct supervision of Boards of Education, who should give the same careful consideration to the problem of educating blind children as is now given to the education of seeing children. And this is one argument in favor of cla.s.ses for the blind in the public schools. Vocational training is of more importance to the blind child than to his more fortunate brother, and when this is recognized, one of the barriers to his success will be removed. Is there any reason why an intelligent blind youth especially interested in medicine, should not be trained as an anatomist, a heart and lung specialist, an osteopath or a ma.s.seur? He does not need eyes to listen to heart beats, find the third vertebra, or rub the kinks out of a refractory muscle. In j.a.pan the government reserves ma.s.sage as an occupation for the blind, and in the hospitals of England and France blind ma.s.seurs are given the preference, and their work receives the highest commendation. Los Angeles has a blind anatomist at the head of its College of Osteopathy, and several blind osteopaths.

When mentally equipped, all blind students should be sent to college, and urged to fit themselves as teachers. In every college and university blind men should occupy chairs in history, English, economics, and mathematics. I know two blind men in this state well qualified to teach any of these subjects, who are forced to accept inferior positions, because educators generally fail to realize that blindness is no bar to mental attainment, and that the ability to teach does not depend upon the ability to see with the eyes. This will be better understood when the coeducation of blind and seeing children becomes more general--G.o.d speed the day! As music teachers, concert players, leaders of orchestra, or masters of the violin and 'cello, the blind should have an even chance of success, but their inability to read music at sight, or watch the director's baton often deprives them of positions which their quick ear and well trained memory would enable them to fill with profit to themselves and satisfaction to the public.

And so in all the professions. I know a man who, before he lost his eyesight, was considered an eminent lawyer, but now his a.s.sociates regard him pityingly, and his clients take their business elsewhere.

When the light went out of the eyes of this brilliant man, it did not take his brain as well. He is fitted to be a consulting lawyer or court pleader, and could occupy a chair in a college of law. Surely, there is something radically wrong when these conditions exist! Surely the public needs to open its eyes, and polish its gla.s.ses in order to see more clearly that there is a mental blindness, more pitiful, more far-reaching in its consequences, than physical blindness, however hard or uncomfortable the latter condition may be. Some one facetiously suggested that I call this lecture "bringing light to the seeing," and, in a sense, this is what I am trying to do. But the light is carried by a kindly hand, and the hand is the index to a heart in which there is no bitterness, no malice, no distrust--a heart br.i.m.m.i.n.g over with love, with hope, with confidence, and with a belief that the public _will_ see the light, and, seeing it, and reading my message in its beams, will pa.s.s it on to others, adding to it as it goes, until it floods every corner of our vast state, and result in untold good for my people. And let me tell you how this light may be disseminated--let me apportion your share in this labor of love, this highest form of social service, this movement of re-education now sweeping over the land.

I am so often asked by those who wish to volunteer in their country's service, "What can I do to help in the re-education of the blinded soldier?" And I invariably answer, "You can first help in the re-education of the public, and this will be the greatest service you can render to the men blinded in battle." In order to know what lines of work will be available for them when they return, we must look about and see what the adult blind of our civil communities are doing. If we can not employ all these who are willing and able to work, how can we hope to employ an increased number later on? Let us ask ourselves what the blind can do, and then, how much of this are we permitting them to do?

If we are an employer of salesmen, and one of our employees has recently lost his eyesight, let us ask ourselves why, when he came to us and urged us to let him continue to sell our goods, we told him that, although he had been a faithful worker, and we were exceedingly sorry for his misfortune, we could not retain his services, because compet.i.tion was so great, and so many unexpected things happened, and we felt we could not entrust our business to any one who did not possess all his faculties. We meant to be very kind, and we thought every word we said was true, but was it true? Did that man sell our goods with his eyes, or did he sell them by using his tongue and his personality to persuade customers to patronize us? If he had a boy to go about with him, could he not talk as convincingly, work as hard, and, indeed, might he not put forth a greater effort to extend our business and make himself invaluable to us? This is a typical case, and one that occurs almost daily. So it is in all lines of work the blind man or woman attempts. A blind piano tuner asks for work from house to house, just as a sighted tuner has to do, but, whereas we sometimes employ the latter, we refuse the former, saying, we could not trust our instrument to the hands of a blind man, and maybe we offer him a small piece of silver to lessen the hurt we have unwittingly inflicted. Perhaps a man with defective eyesight asks to clean house or help in the garden, or work on a ranch, or perform some light task in a store. The same condition obtains. We are so hurried these days, we must have the work done with the greatest possible expediency, and so we can not entrust it to any one who is handicapped, although we are sorry, and really wish we could do something for such people. And so sometimes, men who started out with high hopes and lofty ideals are forced to the streets, there to depend upon the spasmodic charity of the pa.s.serby, and to attract this wavering attention of the public, the man resorts to all sorts of subterfuges, from holding up pencils and gum to grinding out popular tunes on a wheezing old hand organ. Sometimes these men have families and feel they must make this effort to maintain them. Many of them try to sell newspapers on the corners of our princ.i.p.al streets, but here, too, the compet.i.tion is very great, and little boys patrol the curb, holding the ever-ready paper under the nose of the hurrying pedestrian who, though he may be conscious of the blind man selling in front of a building, thinks he can not spare time to go to him for a paper, and so s.n.a.t.c.hes one from the waiting boy, throws him the pennies, and jumps on a moving car. Selling newspapers is better suited to a blind man than almost any other line of business. I mean the man who has never learned a trade, or who has no special profession. If the government could commandeer this line of work for its blind civilians, I am sure there would be fewer itinerant street musicians, gum or pencil venders. Of course, after a while, the blind man reduced to playing on the streets, becomes accustomed to the excitement, the roar of traffic, and covers, I will not say earns, more money than he could by canva.s.sing, piano tuning, or making brooms. And so, once started on this road, once accustomed to the acceptance of public charity, it is almost impossible to induce the street vender or musician to try a more legitimate means of livelihood.

He invariably says, in answer to the protest of those who have the interest and advancement of the blind at heart, "When you can find me a job where I can earn as much as I do right here, I'll take it, but until then, I must live, and I must help to support my family." Meanwhile these street merchants are creating an erroneous impression in the minds of the unthinking, but ever sympathetic public, leading it to believe that begging is all that the blind can do; and so, when asked to employ a blind person, even in the smallest capacity, people mention the blind of the street, and say they will gladly contribute to the support of the sightless either in inst.i.tutions, or by private charity, but they do not believe in their ability to perform work of any kind. Of course, this is not the answer given in every case, but it is the reply generally made to all such requests. This is the sad state of affairs here and in many of the large cities throughout the country, and this is why the State Library is conducting a campaign for the enlightenment of the public.

Whenever possible, I raise my voice in this cause, before clubs and organizations, high schools and colleges, in order to change this mistaken att.i.tude, in order to urge a saner point of view. In presenting this gospel of work for the blind, I put the matter very plainly, prove to the public that it is to blame for many of the conditions I deplore, laugh at its incredulity, score its misconception, urge a broader, more comprehensive sympathy, and usually leave the platform with the a.s.surance that I have won many recruits in this campaign so dear to my heart.

As I said in my last lecture, the government has a well-defined plan for the re-education of its blinded soldiers. But suppose this plan is carried out, and the men are returned to their home cities, qualified to pursue a certain line of work, only to find that the public does not share the government's confidence, is unwilling to give them an opportunity to prove their ability? The public will cheerfully pay taxes to care for these men in idleness and seclusion, thus diverting to the rear of life's battle line these heroes who have given the most precious of all their physical possessions in their country's cause. The soldier killed on the field of battle pays the supreme sacrifice all in a moment, but the sacrifice of the blinded soldier is lifelong. Are we going to find employment for these returned heroes, or are we going to add yet another burden to their already heavy load? Are we going to add the burden of dependence to the burden of darkness? If we want these men to know that we appreciate the service they have rendered to their country, let us provide occupations for them, and in order to do this let us begin by employing the civilian blind, the blind right here in our midst. Let us study the problem with an open mind, freed from the old prejudice and unbelief; let us turn the light on ourselves, and see that it is we who sit in darkness. Let us ask the blind leaders of the blind what work can be done without eyesight, and let us be guided by their judgment, their experience. And, as a bit of Red Cross service, let us employ the blind; let us create a demand for their labor; let us ask for work made by the blind, and tell our friends to ask for it; let us buy our newspapers from the men on the streets, and let us give our magazine subscriptions to blind men who have subscription agencies; let us patronize blind lawyers, osteopaths, salesmen, piano tuners and musicians. Let us find other and broader avenues of usefulness for these our civil blind heroes, who went into the dark with no blare of trumpets, no applause from cheering mult.i.tudes, and who wear no badge of honor on their b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Let us do this, so that when the blinded soldiers return, we may welcome them with the glad tidings that we have work waiting for them, that we know they can do it, because blind men and women here have blazed the trail, and have, by their splendid courage and boundless enthusiasm, succeeded in changing the att.i.tude of the public, and removing the last lingering vestige of doubt as to the ability of the blind to become self-supporting, self-respecting citizens. In this campaign of enlightenment, this bit of Red Cross service for the blinded soldiers and the blind adults of our civil communities, every one of you can help, and I feel sure it will be unnecessary for me to ask a pledge of co-operation from any one who has heard me speak this afternoon. The State Library is heartily with me in every phase of this campaign, and, with its co-operation and encouragement, I go fearlessly forward, overcoming obstacles, uprooting prejudices, laboring with heart and mind and voice in the service of the blind and in the hope of bringing about a clearer understanding of their needs in the minds of the public.

And now, in conclusion, let me tell you my dream for the future of the blind, a dream which, please G.o.d, will one day come true. I dream of seeing blind men occupying chairs in our colleges and universities, blind heart and lung specialists, anatomists and osteopaths, lawyers and lecturers. In my dream, I see blind salesmen, telegraphers, musicians, piano tuners and electricians, and other men making brooms, brushes, mattresses and furniture now so often made by prison labor. And in my dream, I see blind women teachers, stenographers, dictaphone and switchboard operators; and other women knitting, crocheting, sewing, cooking, weaving rugs and making baskets, and doing the work side by side with their more fortunate sisters, and doing it as well, and often better. Then and only then will the greatest sting be removed from blindness; then and only then will the blind beggar depart from our public thoroughfares, and when all these things come to pa.s.s, my dream for my people will be realized. Aren't you going to help to make my dream "come true"?

PREVENTION OF BLINDNESS AND CONSERVATION OF VISION IN ADULTS AND CHILDREN.[2]

Helen Keller, in writing on prevention of blindness, says: "Try to realize what blindness means to those whose joyous activity is stricken to inactivity. It is to live long, long days, and life is made up of days. It is to live immured, baffled, impotent, all G.o.d's world shut out. It is to sit helpless, defrauded, while your spirit strains and tugs at its fetters, and your shoulders ache with the burden they are denied--the rightful burden of labor."

[Footnote 2: Reprinted from News Notes of California Libraries, vol. 14, no. 1, Jan. 1919.]

When I was twelve years old, the well-known oculist, Dr Barkan of blessed memory, came to examine the eyes of all the children in the School for the Blind at Berkeley. I was the first to be examined, and I remember distinctly every word of the great doctor when, after looking at my eyes, he turned to the superintendent, and said sadly, "Needlessly blind! her eyesight _could_ have been saved." These words made a profound impression upon my childish mind, and as I sat and listened, while child after child was examined, and heard again and again the same remark, "needlessly blind!" I resolved to know more about this eye disease with the very long name, ophthalmia neonatorum, to learn its cause, and see just how it might have been prevented. But we did not hear as much about prevention as we do now, and, although I did not forget the matter, it was many years before I had an opportunity to study it further. When I did, I found that at least one-fourth of the children in schools for the blind in this country were there, just because a simple precaution was not taken at the time of their birth.

Five years before I knew there was such a thing as unnecessary blindness (since I had been told I was blind as the result of a severe cold in the eyes), a Belgian doctor, Professor Crede, a famous obstetrician of Leipsic, appalled at the number of children who lost their eyesight within a few days after birth from a virulent eye infection, determined to try the effect of a simple prophylaxis, a two per cent solution of nitrate of silver, dropped in the eyes of every newborn child. The effect of the prophylaxis used in Dr Crede's clinic was marvelous, reducing the number of cases from ten per cent in 1880, to one-fourth of one per cent in 1886.

"Babies' sore eyes," or ophthalmia neonatorum, is defined by Dr Sydney Stephenson as "an inflammatory disease of the conjunctiva, usually appearing within the first few days of life, due to the action of a pus-producing germ introduced into the eyes of the infant at birth." Dr Crede found that, by putting two drops of the solution into each of the infant's eyes at birth, all danger of infection was averted. The solution is harmless to healthy eyes, and, in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred, destroys infecting germs when they are present. The cost of the drops is nominal, about two cents per patient, and yet over ten thousand persons in the United States, and as many more in other countries, have been deprived of the most important of the special senses through the ignorance and neglect of doctors and midwives, and the public at large, as to the gravity of the disease, and the methods of prevention. It is estimated that twenty babies in every one thousand have sore eyes, and that from five to eight of these cases are serious, and capable of causing blindness. Infant ophthalmia is found among all cla.s.ses, but more especially among the poor, who must so often depend upon the services of a midwife or neighbor who, in most instances, does not know the meaning of the word antiseptic. Consequently, it was found necessary to make laws for the prevention of this disease. For various reasons, it is difficult to pa.s.s a law making the use of a prophylaxis compulsory, and in only a few states has this been done. But in more than thirty states the immediate reporting of infants' sore eyes is compulsory, and in thirteen states the prophylaxis is distributed free to doctors and midwives.