June 13, 2009 04:00 am As crazy as it seems to me, my calling in life might not be a doctor or a law professional, but rather I might just be destined to be a rehab teacher for people with vision impairments. A rehab teacher teaches blind and visually impaired people how to adapt basic activities of daily living and how to negotiate the wider world with more confidence. My problem is, I'm becoming less and less oriented toward all the standard ways of how blind people get taught. And I'm talking about things such as giving instructions on matching clothing and being fashionable, and also things like how to determine when a pancake needs to be flipped and how to flip it. I'm sorry, but in order to know when to flip the flap jack, I don't put my ear to my pan of starchy goodness to hear if the tops are bubbling, as rehab aides once taught. I'm blind and my hearing is keener in some ways as compared to the average sighted person, but please, I can't determine doneness by hearing the pancake bubbles bubble. I poke those suckers with a finger to check them. And I haven't yet, in 28 years, turned up in the ER with massive burns. If I taught, I'd probably at least tell people how I do things alongside all the standardized methods. After all, this is a difference between a charred ear and a scorched finger. I'd probably get sued, whether I taught them the standard way or taught them the smart method. I just fear being a hypocrite. Take, for example, the need to teach people how to match their clothing. Personally, I take little interest in matching. It's my own belief that style is very individual. If I were sighted, I'd get up in front of a mirror and find out what I think looks good on me and then wear it, whether it was fashionable or not. Since I can't see, I'm not going to just allow everyone else to determine my style for me. I'm going to wear the textures that feel good to me. So I'm not a fashion prima donna. Is it wrong of me to sit with a blind kid and his family in my mismatched clothing, while speaking of the importance of matching that I don't even believe in? I endorse the idea of helping people become as self-sufficient as possible, but I don't think that has to include making a blind person conform to sighted ideals, such as color coordinating their clothing, primarily if they share my own personal disinterest in the subject matter. Most blind kids are either taught that matching is critically important in life or they feel pressured into it because of rejection by their peers. Anyone who rejects you because of the clothing you wear isn't worth hanging out with anyway. It's really a pretty ridiculous fear when you break it all down, but kids are pretty cruel to one another, so it's understandable. It would be pretty rewarding to spend my days helping blind kids and adults reclaim their ability to just do what feels good and most natural to them. The obstacles would be finding a way not to be frowned upon by the traditionalists in the rehab teaching world. Having said all of what I've said, I will admit that the fact this world is so visual means there are times where being judged on visual standards is critical, and if we do want to make a connection we do have to look our best. It's silly, but true. Knowing when and how to dress nicely without too much fuss is the key. There's a few rare situations where looking sharp is critical: interviews, first dates, and meeting your partner's mother. Otherwise, there's no reason to deny yourself the clothes that you feel great in. It's actually fascinating that most men gravitate toward confidence first and fashion second when assessing a person. Why can't women do that, too? Here's one perspective I've heard that I absolutely adore: "I am a dude. The first things I notice about someone aren't what they're wearing, but how they carry themselves, both from a self-confidence perspective and a how-they-treat-others perspective. If you're at least neat and cordial, you'll do fine (and you'll be beating everyone who thinks giant sunglasses and a Chihuahua sticking out of a Ferragamo purse are essential accessories for a nip down to the shop for some milk)." That leads me back to the rehab job idea. If this job is about teaching a blind person how to negotiate the wider world with more confidence, then perhaps I would make a good teacher, mismatched clothes and all. Kate Pavlacka, a graduate of the State University College at Oneonta, has been totally blind for 11 years.
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