I’ve done my share of scary things. I’ve taught high-altitude snow and ice climbing, gone scuba diving in the teeth of a typhoon on Australia’s Barrier Reef, stood waist-deep in a leech- filled jungle river, and spent nights in a small tent surrounded by lions on the African veldt.
But few things I’ve done were as frightening as the day I “interned” with the Colorado Center for the Blind.
The thought of losing my sight is high on my list of terrifying things. So it was with real trepidation that I approached the center to ask if I could experience what it’s like to walk with a cane.
The center’s cane-travel instructor, Brent Batron, took me under his wing. Giving me heavy sleep-shades that prevent any cheating, Batron, who is blind, led me outside for a walk in sunshine that I could feel but not see. As I swung a long white cane ahead of me, he urged me to listen to its sound as well as use it to feel for barriers. The sound of the cane on the sidewalk changes as you approach a building, for example.
Then came the most frightening part. This blind man would take me down a steep flight of stairs. “Use the cane to feel each lower step before moving ahead,” he urged.
The center, which settled in Littleton in 2000, is an affiliate of the American Federation for the Blind. It has an Independence Training Program that focuses on up to 25 adults at a time who have recently lost their sight. These adults spend nine months learning life skills and mobility with a cane.
The belief that a blind person can do anything a sighted person can do leads the center to teach students to cook (with knives, meat-slicers and fire), read Braille, use computers, manage their finances and get around town independently. Only two other centers in the U.S. teach such comprehensive skills, according to the center’s director, Julie Deden, who has been blind from birth.
Another program is for seniors who are losing their sight. The center teaches these older people that they don’t have to change their lifestyles. “They just have to learn different ways of doing things,” Deden said. Up to 75 seniors at a time are in day programs at the center. When I was there, an 89-year-old woman was learning Braille.
There is also a year-round program for teens and a summer program for elementary students taught by blind college students who serve as role models. The center finds internships for older students who travel to and from their work independently.
The biggest challenge for people with visual impairments isn’t being blind, Deden said. It’s finding employment. Nationally, 70 percent of blind people are unemployed. But things are different for graduates of the center. According to Deden, 85 percent go on to find a job or go back to school. She cited a graduate who is working as a machinist. “The key,” she said, “is giving people confidence and belief in themselves.”
That belief extends to mobility. For their “final exam,” the center’s adult students are dropped off in the metro area with no clue as to their location. By memorizing bus routes, finding direction from the sun on their faces and other cues, the students make their way back to the center alone from places as far away as Commerce City.
This is the 20th anniversary of the Colorado Center for the Blind. Deden hopes for a good turnout for a fundraising gala the evening of Sept. 20. For details about supporting this remarkable nonprofit, visit .
Susan Thornton (smthornton@aol.com) served 16 years on the Littleton City Council, including eight years as mayor. Her column appears twice a month.
