Author, Abigail L. Johnson lives and works in Sheridan, Wyoming USA. For paid employment, she presently works as an activities assistant in a nursing home. On a volunteer basis, she is involved at other facilities in the community that serve senior citizens. She has also facilitated a support group for the visually impaired and has served on the advisory board to a state trust fund which allows visually impaired people in Wyoming to purchase adaptive equipment and services.
Vera Franklyn, a plump woman in her mid seventies, appeared apprehensive as she spoke to Rachel. "I signed up for your Braille class but now, I don't think
I can learn Braille," said the elderly woman.
Rachel Newman had just been hired as the Braille instructor at the Wyoming Lions Summer School for the Visually Impaired, located in the beautiful
mountains just west of Casper, Wyoming. This camp was a place where blind and visually impaired children and adults gathered for one to two weeks every
summer to learn such skills as daily living, computers, and Braille.
Now, Rachel figured she was having just as many doubts about teaching Braille as Vera was having about learning it. Rachel had originally planned
to teach a social problems class, where students discussed problems facing visually impaired people and possible solutions. With her experience in facilitating
a support group for the visually impaired, she had felt confident about teaching this class.
Then, the former Braille instructor had become ill and had been forced to leave the camp. No one else could be found to teach Braille but someone else had agreed to teach the social problems class. So, with great misgivings, Rachel had offered to teach Braille. Jim Barnes, the camp director, whom
she had known for years and who was the consultant for the state division of services for the visually impaired in Rachel's home town of Sheridan, Wyoming,
had expressed confidence in her.
"I know you can do this, Rachel. You are very proficient at Braille," he had told her over the phone a couple of nights ago, as she stood in her air conditioned apartment in Sheridan on a sweltering July evening, thankful that she would soon be retreating to the camp, where it was always ten to
twenty degrees cooler than it was in Sheridan or Casper.
When Rachel had arrived at the camp, Charleen Tucker, a mobility instructor who had once taught Braille, showed her everything in the Braille classroom. There were Braille writers, Braille books, and tactile charts of the Braille alphabet. Rachel had developed some idea of how she would do this but she
still felt unsure of herself.
Now, Rachel and Vera were standing on the porch of the camp's recreation hall. Adjacent to this building was the women's dormitory and despite Rachel's limited vision, she could see new arrivals excitedly bustling into the dormitory with bedding, suitcases, and other personal belongings. Others were milling
around, chatting amiably. Tomorrow would be the start of the two-week adult session. Although Rachel had attended the camp for years as a student, she
now felt just as apprehensive as those students who were coming to camp for the first time.
And now, here was Vera, expressing doubts about her ability to learn Braille. Rachel was tempted to tell her that right now, she did not feel that she could teach Braille but instead, she found herself saying, "Well, sometimes, you don't know if you can do something unless you try it. So, let's just
wait and see what happens. If worse comes to worse, you can always change your class schedule."
"Thank you so much," said Vera, breathing a sigh of relief. "You know, this is my first time here. I just started losing my vision a few months ago. I guess I've just got a bit of the jitters."
"I know," said Rachel, stepping into her familiar role as counselor. "It can be hard when you're losing your vision and when you're in a strange place. But if there is anything I can do to help you, please let me know."
"Thank you," said Vera and then she turned away towards a group of older women at the other end of the porch, whom she apparently knew.
The next morning after breakfast, when Rachel walked into the Braille classroom, the first thing she did was to consult her Braille class schedule. Although
Rachel had enough vision to read print with magnification, unless she had a closed-circuit TV reading machine at her disposal, which she did not in this
case, she was more comfortable using Braille.
As her fingers moved across the page, she groaned inwardly. Her first pupil that morning was Vera. Rachel had hoped that Vera would be scheduled for later in the day. This way, Rachel would have built her confidence by teaching other students who did not have Vera's doubts about learning Braille. Rachel's thoughts were immediately interrupted by the distant sound of the bell that signaled the start of the first period class. She quickly pushed
aside her schedule and began getting out the equipment she thought she would need, a Braille writer, paper, and the first book in the Braille learning
series, since Vera was evidently a beginner.
Soon, Vera walked in. "Good morning," she said rather hesitantly.
"Good morning, Vera," said Rachel warmly, trying to disguise her own apprehension. "Why don't you sit here," she said, indicating a nearby chair.
"Thank you," said Vera, as she took the chair offered her.
Rachel then decided to break the ice by making casual conversation. "How did you sleep last night?" she asked.
"Not bad," replied Vera. "Those beds in the Hilton are mighty comfortable. And it's nice having a bathroom close by. I was afraid we'd have to use an outhouse."
"Oh no," said Rachel with a laugh. "In fact, with all the modern conveniences here now, you wouldn't even call this camping. Why, just last year, they installed rest room and shower facilities in the old women's dormitory, which is next to the rec hall where I spoke to you yesterday. Before they
did that, those of us living in that dormitory had to go outside past the rec hall and around to the right to a separate building which had rest rooms
and showers. Those facilities have now been converted into a crafts classroom."
After a few more minutes of making small talk, Vera seemed more relaxed. So, Rachel asked her, "What would you like to learn in this class?"
"Well," said Vera hesitantly. "I just want to be able to make grocery lists and write down phone numbers and stuff like that."
"Well," said Rachel, pushing the Braillewriter towards Vera. "We might as well get started."
Rachel then showed Vera how to insert the paper into the Braille writer. She explained to Vera that in Braille, a dot or a group of dots stands for a particular letter or number. She showed Vera how to Braille the letters A , B, and C and had Vera feel them with the index finger on her right hand,
which is usually used to read Braille. When the bell rang to signal the end of the first period class, Rachel asked Vera how she felt about what she had
learned that day.
"Well," said Vera, once again hesitating. "I can Braille the letters but I'm having trouble feeling them. My fingers aren't as sensitive as they
used to be."
Rachel's heart sank. What was she to do now? If Vera couldn't feel the letters, how could she possibly read what she Brailled? Then, she remembered the
jumbo Brailler Charleen had shown her. This machine produces larger dots.
"I have an idea," Rachel said to Vera with a smile. "There's another machine here just like this one that makes larger dots. We'll try that one tomorrow."
"All right," said Vera, smiling. "I'll see you then," she said as she walked out the door.
A quick consultation of Rachel's schedule told her that her next pupil was someone she knew. Ken Swanson, an elderly man from Sheridan, had been participating
in Rachel's support group for several years. His wife, Barbie, who was also visually impaired, came to group meetings as well. Because Ken was diabetic,
Rachel figured that he would also have less sensitivity in his fingers. As she got out the jumbo Brailler, she realized that having Vera as a first student
hadn't been so bad after all. Vera would probably serve to make Ken's learning experience less frustrating.
Over the next few days, Rachel's classes went smoothly. She discovered, through trial and error, that different students required different learning
methods. Barbie found the large print Braille alphabet chart most helpful. She could read the printed dots and Braille the letters accordingly. Because
of this, she required little help from Rachel, which was just as well because Rachel had her hands full with another student in that same class.
Paul Nicholas, a tall, thin man in his twenties, was one of the few younger students Rachel had. Although he seemed bright and was an advanced
Braille student, Rachel discovered that he did not always focus on what he was doing. One day, while Rachel was helping Barbie, Paul managed to get a
piece of paper tangled in the Braillewriter and Rachel had considerable difficulty extracting the paper from the machine.
Rachel also found that Paul tended to read the Braille with his eyes instead of with his finger. Rachel would constantly remind him to feel the
Braille instead of looking at it. He would shrug and with a sigh, he put his finger on the page. Rachel suspected that when she turned her back, Paul
once again read the Braille with his eyes.
Rachel discussed this problem with Jim Barnes, the camp director, and his wife Carol, who taught public speaking at the camp. They were eating lunch
in the dining room. After hearing Rachel's story, Carol laughed. Then, Jim said, "Why don't you try turning out the light?"
Rachel pondered this idea. The classroom had no windows. So, without the light, they would be in total darkness and Paul would be forced to use
his finger instead of his eyes. There was just one problem with this solution. Barbie needed the light to read the printed Braille alphabet chart, which
was the method of learning that worked best for her. So, Rachel decided to try the next best thing.
The next day, when Paul walked into the classroom, Rachel said in her most authoritative voice, "All right, Paul, Give me your glasses."
"What!" said Paul, looking stunned.
"Without your glasses, you won't be able to see that Braille, will you?" asked Rachel.
"No," replied Paul, somewhat apprehensively.
"Then, give me your glasses now and I'll give them back to you at the end of class," said Rachel.
With a shrug, Paul took off his glasses and handed them to Rachel, who put them in her pocket for safe keeping. Then, after properly inserting a
piece of paper into the Braille writer, he furrowed his brow in concentration and placed his finger on the page in the Braille book on the table next to
the machine. The book had been opened to the lesson Rachel wanted Paul to work on that day. When Rachel turned around after helping Barbie, she saw that
Paul's finger was on the page and a broad grin was on his face. She thought that perhaps Paul had realized that reading the Braille with the finger was
easier than reading it with the eye.
By the end of the first week in the two-week session, Rachel felt more confident about her skills as a teacher. She decided that since there were
no classes over the weekend, she would offer her students extra instruction, if they wanted. She announced this decision to everyone at dinner on Friday
night and Saturday morning, Vera quickly took her up on her offer. The fact that Vera was the only student who accepted Rachel's offer didn't really bother
Rachel. After a long week of classes, most of the students and staff at the camp preferred to relax. Some made the trip into nearby Casper to do laundry,
go shopping, or see a movie.
Vera had been improving steadily all week. Using the jumbo Brailler had really helped her and by the end of class on Friday, she had mastered the
letters A through J and was even writing words and some phrases which contained these letters. Rachel was thrilled with the progress of this student,
who had come to her at the beginning of camp expressing doubts of her ability to learn Braille.
At the dance on Saturday night, Rachel danced with Ken, who had mastered just about as many letters as Vera had. As he pulled Rachel close to him,
he said, "Maybe next week, I could write something other than "a bad babe hid a big bag"."
Laughing, Rachel replied, "I'll se what I can come up with but please don't hold me so close. What if Barbie sees us?"
"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that," replied Ken with a chuckle. "I don't think Barbie can see any more than I can. That's the advantage of being married
to someone who is visually impaired."
The next week fairly flew by. All of Rachel's students continued to improve, which made her feel even more confident about her teaching skills.
Even Paul, whom Rachel had doubted, was getting better. On Monday, when he walked into the classroom, he said, "Hey Rachel, You don't have to take
away my glasses. I can read the letters with my finger real good now."
And Paul was true to his word. When Rachel turned around after helping Barbie, she saw that Paul's finger was on the page, instead of the
page being held up to his eyes. Rachel breathed a sigh of relief. The confiscation of Paul's glasses during class had worked.
On Wednesday, Vera, who had learned a few more letters, said, "I have a great idea. Why don't you Braille all the letters and numbers and such and
I'll label them with my black marker so I can se them. Then, I can continue to teach myself after camp."
"That's a wonderful idea," exclaimed Rachel and she spent the last couple of class periods she had with Vera Brailling letters, numbers, punctuation,
and even Braille contractions, using the jumbo Brailler. Vera carefully labeled each character on the page next to where Rachel had Brailled it.
On the last night of camp, there was a talent show in which everyone was invited to participate. Those students who had taken such classes as music and
public speaking showed off what they had learned in those classes by singing, playing an instrument, and giving a speech of some kind. Ken, who despite
his visual impairment had become an excellent clogger, now did a demonstration, to the delight of everyone in the audience who could see him.
On the last day of camp, Rachel once again stood on the porch of the recreation hall, reflecting on the past couple of weeks. All around her, there was
the hustle and bustle of departure. People were now loading their personal belongings into vehicles waiting in the parking lot beyond. Hugs and goodbyes
were being exchanged. As Rachel watched this scene, she realized that even though she had been a teacher this year at camp, she had learned something
as well. She had discovered that she was able to impart her knowledge of a particular skill to others. Although she had used trial and error to figure
out what teaching methods would work for which students, she had ultimately achieved success.
Now, Vera approached her with a smile. "Rachel," she said. "When I first came to camp, I didn't think I could learn Braille. You have convinced
me otherwise. Thank you so very much!"
And with that, she threw her arms around Rachel. "By the way," Vera continued. "This morning, as I was packing those papers with those letters and
numbers and stuff, I noticed that there was some stuff on the bottom of the page that I didn't label."
"Oh," said Rachel with a grin. "I did that while you were in the rest room. It's my name and address. When you've learned enough Braille so you
can figure out the address, you can write to me in Braille."
"You bet I will, Teach," said Vera with a grin of her own. After saying goodbye to Vera, it was all Rachel could do to stifle a tear.
Several months later, Rachel pulled a thick manila envelope out of her mailbox in the lobby of her apartment building. Curious, she placed the envelope
under her closed-circuit television reading machine in the living room of her apartment. To her delight, she saw that it was from Vera. By the thickness
of the envelope, she judged that the letter was in Braille. So, her excitement mounting, she tore open the envelope. Sure enough, there it was, a Braille
letter from the student who thought she could not learn Braille. As Rachel scanned the letter with her finger, she noticed that there were no mistakes,
whatsoever and that all the capitals and other punctuation marks were in their proper places.
"Dear Rachel," it read. "Thank you so much for being such a wonderful teacher. I'll see you next summer but I don't think I need to sign up for Braille again, do you? Love, Vera"