{"id":193,"date":"2017-08-10T19:07:31","date_gmt":"2017-08-10T23:07:31","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/mendingmisconceptions.com\/?p=193"},"modified":"2017-08-10T19:07:31","modified_gmt":"2017-08-10T23:07:31","slug":"im-blind-therefore-i-can-neither-speak-nor-hear","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/lilymordaunt.com\/?p=193","title":{"rendered":"I&#8217;m Blind, Therefore I Can Neither Speak Nor Hear"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>As I walked to the corner, after getting off of the train, a woman, who had already been standing there asked if I was crossing. I said, yes; and she told me to wait. Which is already what I&#8217;d planned to do, as there were cars passing by, but I didn&#8217;t say that. I just waited.<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Okay, you can go now,&#8221; she said after a few moments. And we crossed.<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Wow, you look really nice in the black,&#8221; my mom says, approaching me from the opposite direction. &#8220;And your hair &#8216;(she meant the new color I&#8217;d died it)&#8217; goes well with it too.&#8221; (<\/p>\n<p>As I took my mom&#8217;s arm, the woman who&#8217;d crossed with me said something, or made some motion that I didn&#8217;t catch. But it prompted my mom to say that she was my mother.<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Oh wow,&#8221; the lady says in response. &#8220;Her hair is so nice. Is it her&#8217;s? Or extensions.&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s my hair,&#8221; I said, more offended that she&#8217;d spoken as though I weren&#8217;t there than at the question. It wasn&#8217;t the first time someone had asked that.<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s really pretty.&#8221; She continues.<\/p>\n<p>&#8220;Thank you.&#8221; My mom and I say in unison.<\/p>\n<p>Um\u2026. I&#8217;m confused as to why my mom also responded. She and I have gone through that many times, as both her friends and strangers have spoken about, instead of to me. But she&#8217;s one of the few, if not the only, person in my life who doesn&#8217;t seem to understand why it&#8217;s a problem.<\/p>\n<p>Well, I&#8217;m a 20-year-old (whoa, am I a woman? It feels wrong to say girl) who can speak for herself. Many people don&#8217;t even do that to kids. They may use a patronizing tone, but they might still speak to the child. But even if they don&#8217;t more often than not children won&#8217;t care about something like that.<\/p>\n<p>Imagine being in a situation like that, where your with a friend and someone comes up to you both, and compliments you to your friend.Wouldn&#8217;t you be annoyed, or frustrated?<\/p>\n<p>I&#8217;ve also had people bless the people I&#8217;m with. Are they a saint for taking out the blind girl? Does it have to be an act of pity and not friendship?<\/p>\n<p>A waitress once blessed my dad as he began to read me the menu. It was a little surprising as he&#8217;d just threatened to speak with management (it was a chain restaurant), for not having braille menus for me. But it was still an adorable sight watching a father read to his college-aged daughter. No amount of threats could ruin that.<\/p>\n<p>Why does being blind, or having some sort of disability automatically change how we are perceived in some people&#8217;s minds? I realize that sometimes approaching a disabled person may be a little daunting, especially if you&#8217;ve not done it before, but why not, instead of speaking slowly, or pityingly, or talking not to us but about us, or whatever other annoying habits the able-bodied have when it comes to the disabled, you just approach us like &#8220;normal&#8221;, fellow human beings? And then adjust to match the person. I don&#8217;t think anyone&#8217;s gotten mad at someone who treated them with respect or the courtesy of assuming that, other than their impairment, they are capable members of society.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>As I walked to the corner, after getting off of the train, a woman, who had already been standing there asked if I was crossing. I said, yes; and she told me to wait. Which is already what I&#8217;d planned to do, as there were [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3,8],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-193","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-blog","category-free-writes"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/lilymordaunt.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/193","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/lilymordaunt.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/lilymordaunt.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lilymordaunt.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lilymordaunt.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=193"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/lilymordaunt.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/193\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/lilymordaunt.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=193"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lilymordaunt.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=193"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lilymordaunt.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=193"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}