Note: I originally wrote this article on November 4th, 2002 for Tell-us-your-story.com, replying to the quetion: How do you deal with feeling inferior in a society that devalues disabilty?
For the last about four months it has really struck me how kind everyone is to me, although I'm blind and - also in comparison with other blind teens - quite dependent on others. I've noticed that it isn't bad to need people, if you ask in a kind way. This seems like something that everyone knows, but it's a fairly new realisation to me and it makes me feel a lot better than I did before, because then I felt really bad about my "special needs".
Three years ago at age 13, when I left my special education institute for the blind and went to a public high school in my hometown in The Netherlands, I in the first weeks learned to accept my blindness. I'm namely blind as a result of ROP (Retinopathy in Prematurity) and I was partially sighted as a little kid, my sight became worse and worse and now I'm totally blind, by which I mean that I've no functional sight at all. Although I had to learn braille at age 7, I still participated in some kind of "match": who can see best, I showed off a lot about my sight and pretended to see things which I truly didn't see. But what difference did it make, between all sighted classmates, teachers, family members and other acquaintances, whether I saw 1% or totally nothing? That's the positive side of that realistion that I had when I was in first form: it didn't matter what I saw. But the bad side of all this, was what exactly it meant: inequality to my sighted acquaintances. In that first four or five weeks I also realised what it was like for my classmates to have a blind girl around: how annoying must it be to, forced by a schedule, always take me around the school because I didn't know the way in there yet! And how bothersome must my parents find it to always need to scan my books and study plans and all that things because the organisation that makes those course materials available on a computer is so slow or my teachers didn't have a scanner themselves! I began feeling bad about my disability, because everyone needed to do so very much for me and I didn't know how to compensate for this. The only way of making good my disability seemed to be: try to be more independent, which rather meant: not asking for help, even if I needed it. Although I tried hard to not expect much help from people around, and certainly not ask people to help me, my Mum called me very egoistic, because I seemed to find this help completely normal. Also my classmates disliked the way in which I asked them to help me. Now I know what's really wrong with that: I for example said "I'm going to the sweet machine," because I was scared to directly ask a classmate to take me there, but I know that "my way" sounds quite curt. So, when my classmates or parents or sighted sister were critical about the way I actually forced them to help me, I became even more afraid of needing people, tried harder to be independent, which again didn't work and was very curt or frustrated when things went wrong. This was something I also had before, but it increased that months.
When, in January, some boys started to call me names and say other bad things about me, my feeling of inferiority extended very much. Why did I try to be independent, which really didn't work, and was I still so blunt? But at the time I didn't knew better than that my "pursuit of independence" was the way that I should act and that I was curt, that was one of my wicked qualities that interferred with my journey to be a "perfect girl", as I should be to make up for my difference. Fortunately that boys gave me another way: they said that I was given preferential treatment by the teachers, because I for instance got extra time in tests, as reading braille takes more time than normal script. So, what did I do? I tried to not be treated preferential on doing my tests in the same time as my classmates and I felt very guilty when a teacher had adapted his test for me and I had a good mark (which I almost always had). Finally I had found a second way of compensating for my blindness.
This "trying to be treated equally" worsened when I was in second form, but I now knew that this two ways of dealing with my inferiority were exaggerated and didn't work and that I should be nicer to people instead, but I didn't know how to become less curt and it seemed like I had to act those wrong ways in a certain way. I tried to find out why I was so scared of asking for help, but I didn't know. In February my classmates talked with my class teacher about me and what I should do better or different, because it had been noticed that I was lonely in class. When I heard about what my classmates had said, I really tried to follow up their critique, and, when after two months we evaluated it, they seemed to find that I had got better. That was a step forward and I was encouraged by those positive words, but I doubted them as well, because those words seemed to be only said to be nice to me or to stop the fussing about this. But let's be optimistic, so for one month I really was encouraged to try to get better, but then, when some boys again started talking behind my back about how poor they were, forced to take me to the gym field or whatever, I again started feeling terribly inferior and I didn't know what to do anymore. When someone had forgotten to take me to the gym and the other boys said, quoting the rules for doing the chore "three times!" I felt like I was a thing instead of a girl. I wasn't the chore, was I? I really started doubting if it was actually wrong how I tried to compensate for my blindness.
So third form, after a holiday full of doubt about how I should act as a blind person in a "sighted" society, started really bad, although my classmates (most annoying ones had failed second form) weren't teasing me anymore and I noticed that some where even quite nice. So, why did I feel bad? It was because I couldn't stand this inferiority anymore: my "pursuit of independence" was so frustrating and nothing seemed to work well. In November I felt so unconfortable that there really needed something to change: I couldn't keep on with all this. But everything went on in its sickeningly boring way and I felt increasingly bad and angry with everyone in common and no-one in particular. I started doing less at school, especially on subjects that seemed to be too difficult (Greek, Latin adn math), which my Latin teacher called "for a moment not fancy" my school work.
On January 7th, the Monday after Christmas holiday, my English teacher came to me and said that he had to type my D-tetst (tests you can use to see what you already know for the real test) especially for me on the computer and, because I didn't do much for them and I still had good marks on the tests, maybe he shouldn't do this anymore. At the time - ridiculous, I know - I felt so very frustrated by my need to compensate for my disability, that I was really angry with him: did he refuse to give other students who didn't work for their D-tests to give one? So I decided that my English teacher was the first whom I let down on not doing anything for his subject anymore. In a few weeks I had decided to let everyone - teachers, my classmates, my parents, my sister - down and not care anymore aboutr what they wanted from me. I'd got sick and tired of my difference and now I wouldn't care about it anymore. This attitude made me feel even more frustrated, because I really wanted to show everyone how much I cared, but I was even curter than before and I didn't work at school. My feelings became increasingly bad.
This summer there happened three things that made me realise that how I acted was really wrong. On a hot Monday in June I first talked about my feelings about my difference. Because I didn't work much at school my marks namely had become quite bad, which was noticed by my mentor at school. This actually was the first time that I really knew that my "pursuit of independence" was a wrong way of compensating for my disability. After talking about this I resolved to do two things: first I would work again at school so that I could move up to the fourth form. And second if I needed it, I would ask for help, since it was my right. And I knew that everyone - whether sighted or blind or whoever he or she is -sometimes needs and has the right to ask for help.When I, a few days later, told my parents about my feelings, they first didn't understand, but now I think they do as well and they're happy that I've informed them.
I also went to an international computer camp for the visually impaired in the UK this July. There I met other blind and partially sighted people my age who were sooo kind and I felt really good. I had a lot of fun with visually impaired teens from many different countries, I learned many new computer skills, I participated in the camp newspaper staff and above all I felt equal with everyone. "If you're kind to someone, he/she mostly wants to help you," was a quote which I thought of after ICC. And I had noticed that people could be sooo nice, even although I had a disability or was less able than them.
When I'd arrived home again I started searching the Internet for disability related sites where I could communicate with other (visually) impaired people. On many sites I found stories that had something in common with mine and I now know that I'm not the only one who sometimes feels inferior to her able-bodied acquaintances and who wants to compensate for her difference in a certain way.
Meanwhile I've turned 16 and moved up to the fourth form of high school. I'm still quite scared of needing people, but I now know that it's not forbidden to need some help at times. I've noticed that most people are very helpful - even more than I dare to expect. I've at least realised that my "pursuit of indpendence" doesn't work and now I hope I once will be able to ask, without immediately forcing people to help me.
