I told my folks.

I finally told my parents about the glasses. They live five hours away in the small town where I grew up. After they made sure I got a good education through high school, I came to the city, got into trouble at the blind rehab center, and was hardly to be seen in that small town again. I know they are proud of me for doing well in school, but I wonder how many interests we have in common. If I give Mom a lengthy explanation of one of my projects, she might say I'm talking over her head. She is about five inches taller than me and actually means that she cannot understand all of what I am saying. Likewise, if she talks about shopping, decorating etc. I, being her only girl, have no idea what to say. I've always been the strange one that everybody picked on as I spent my childhood alone, waiting for my own kind to show up in a star ship and beam me out of there.
If I tell them, I thought, they will either think me even more bizarre than before, or worse, that I am investing my hopes in something that is a waste of time.

As I explained the basics of the system to Mom, as I told her that I was starting to see, it felt hard to breathe. "I'm starting to understand why you do things like hang balls on Christmas trees," I explained. "Before I could have no empathy. I had to dismiss so many rituals as stupid sighted things, but now they are legitimate and I can study them. I can't see all of what you see, but I want to learn."
She seemed excited and had me tell Daddy. It suddenly became easier to breathe. I was able to tell him that the study of vision had become extremely important to me and that I wanted to study science and technology so that many people would be able to see one day. We had a long discussion. "Keep tinkering," he said.  "Remember Thomas Edison and the light bulb, and Don't get discouraged if it doesn't work out right away. You never know where this will lead in a few decades."

It's going to be a very interesting Christmas. Mom has at least three dogs and a huge collection of mercury glass ornaments to show me, and Daddy wants to hear the soundscapes - he is late blind himself. Maybe I will no longer have to sit outside by myself, wishing for home.

Not a Clutz

Many interesting things have happened since I've written last. These include a broken pair of glasses followed by the War of the Camera Drivers (It took several skilled Seeing with Sound hacks to win that war.), my first women's bench press competition, and my professor and I being interviewed for three publications about his work to make physics and drawing accessible to blind people. My life is rarely uneventful. Thankfully I'm always learning something. One of the most important things I've learned recently is that there are certain characteristics which people have tried to attribute to me that are simply false. Several years ago I took what was supposed to be a series of intelligence and aptitude tests. One of them seemed more like a sobriety test. The part where the officer, err, I mean doctor told me to touch my nose was easy, but I could not walk heel-to-toe. It brought back a memory from first or second grade. I was wondering why the coach was scolding some of the boys for falling off the balance beam. I knew if she let go of me I'd fall off instantly, and then I'd be in trouble. She explained that those boys were falling off on purpose. Until then I hadn't realized anyone could walk across it by themselves, and without walking sideways. Fast forward nearly twenty years from that obstacle course and five from the IQ tests to yesterday. The Neandertodd had me stand, squat, curl weights, and lift a 12-pound ball over my head all while standing on a bosu ball sometimes for two minutes at a time. For those who don't know what that is, picture half a sphere on the ground and yourself standing on the flat side of the sphere. Experts have noted the clumsiness of many Aspies and balance difficulties experienced by some blind individuals. One of these "experts" told me there wasn't much I could do about it. I still can't roller skate very well, but I almost never practice, and there are many physical tasks I can perform much more safely and confidently than I could even a year ago. "For the first time, I can pass a sobriety test," I announced loudly as I walked out of the gym.

An Age-Appropriate Experiment

This week I acquired a lego set for use with the vOICe vision sysstem. The reasoning behind this experiment is as follows:
It's still very hard for me to recognize 3D objects in the real world which might have an irregular shape and might not be composed of only one color. My ability to visualize many everyday objects is only through touch. What will happen if I practice building simple 3D shapes with legos and viewing them in stages? In real life, will this eventually translate into an ability to recognize new types of objects and visualize tasks without relying so heavily on storing them in handspace? Below are some initial results in the form of a modified email I sent to a friend.

I found it surprisingly easy to pick up legos off the floor in front of me without having to feel for them. Once I started building I was easily distracted. It seemed I was suddenly struggling to control the mind of a one or two-year-old.
"Okay, stop staring at your hands. Yes, they're very interesting hands. You've stared at them hundreds of times and counting. Now pick up the blocks. No, don't look at the stripes on the couch. Look down at the blocks."

My guess is that the reason this personality hasn't given me much trouble in class is because I haven't actually asked it to perform a task. I had a plan as to what pieces should be stuck where and in what order and at least twice forgot what it was. I eventually was able to make myself stay on task and begin to deal with the problem of looking directly at the shape. As I added pieces it was an irregular shape. I knew what it felt like and was surprised at how little sense it made when I saw it. Some of this could be due to the fact that the legos are different colors. I suspect though that the main problem was the shape itself. At one point I had a square with a cube-shaped piece missing from one corner and a rectangular piece sticking up in the middle of the top edge. How could I tell things like indentation and upward verses forward? I mainly remember a mosaic of cubes and rectangles which were connected in some unclear way. I kept adding pieces and trying to direct my view to the slightly changed shape over and over. At the end of the exercise I was lying on my stomach on the floor and turning the cube to face me at different angles. There were the round holes on the bottom side, the lines on the sides where the pieces were connected, and the changing slopes of the edges as I turned the cube. It seems that the most difficult position to see it in is standing on one corner with an edge facing me. That seems to require that I be able to see 2D as 3D.

Update: The second time I ran this exercise, it was easier for me to stay focused, possibly due to the fact that I was working in the exact same spot as before with no new distractions. The shapes are starting to make a little more sense, and some pieces are very noticeably brighter than others.

Postponing Physics 2

Last week the precalculus situation was for the most part sorted out. This meant I could turn my attention to the ongoing problem of making physics accessible. In my first physics course I made an A. For my second course I was misled into believing that someone would transcribe the inaccessible PDF equations into an ASCII text file. Unfortunately (and without warning) that transcriber quit. I had to face facts. Right now I am behind because I cannot read most of the textbook. If you count non-accessible diagrams, I can read even less. Sunday afternoon, I saw my friend Mike who is a blind mathematician who has worked for NASA and IBM. I explained the situation - that I was thinking about dropping the course and picking up where I left off in the Spring. Mike agreed with my decision. He then began telling me a bit about his college and high school experiences in the 60s. He told me that even before high school he knew he needed a good education or he'd literally end up selling pencils on a street corner. Perhaps the most meaningful stories he told me were the ones where he made mistakes and had to retake a couple of courses. I've spoken to a few totally blind STEM students and professionals who seemed too perfect to need Braille or any aid whatsoever to visualize the material. I would imagine this strain of super blind mutants with powers even beyond a high IQ which enabled them to sit in a class and absorb everything spoken by the professor as if they had read it ten times themselves. Maybe they intuitively understand the unbreakable code of chalk scratch (What if the Nazis had used chalk scratch instead of the Enigma machine?). Mike is not one of these people. He is a real person who had extremely low vision in school and needed someone to take notes for him in class. Not exactly my situation, but close enough for him to understand what I meant when I explained how difficult it was to keep an equation in my head, manipulate it, and understand its purpose all at once. Mike knows lots of engineers and science types at his church and is helping me find someone who can make a physics book readable.

On the ride this morning I called my physics professor, who also supported me in my decision. At times like this I wonder if emotions like sadness can be summed up and measured as sets of electric signals sent out by the brain as the results of thoughts. Even physical pain is a signal. At the end of the discussion I thanked my physics professor for being so understanding. He told me to keep in touch so that he could help in any way possible. "your a good student," he said. "I wish they were all like you."

Now for the good news. I have more time to get a really good understanding of precalculus, work on my Braille graphics program, and teach my new student. I have decided to volunteer as a programming tutor at the school for the blind. If my student decides to study programming when she goes to college, she will be starting off ahead of her class in her understanding. No one should have to fight to learn. One of the most valuable gifts I ever received from a professor was time. Therefore, I will give her time. I start tomorrow.

Succeeding in a Math Class

Last week I conducted a meeting between my math professor, the Neandertodd, and Grant - the man who spends government money so that I can have the books and technology needed for a good education. Grant is a human being who thinks and plans in advance. Sometimes I wonder if these traits make it hard for him to function inside a bureaucracy. They say the meeting was my idea, but I honestly don't remember coming up with it. I remember one night explaining to God in great detail that if He wanted me to learn precalculus this semester something would have to change, because this class was turning out to be a disaster. The next time I called Grant, I scheduled the meeting without having had any prior thoughts of doing so. I deliberately did not invite any Vogons who would confuse or worry the professor by quoting regulations and making my requests seem too hard.

The meeting went great. Afterwards I began to realize something very important. During our discussion, Grant explained to me that unlike programming, math will not be perfectly accessible to me. However, it can still work. It would be impractical for me to do everything in audio, but if I have ENOUGH stuff that is in a form I can read (some examples, homework, and tests), then I can retain enough to ask questions in class and eventually construct a whole picture. During classes I have been playing a logic game on my computer so that I have something to physically do. When a topic comes up for which I have a question, I stop and ask. No one can tell what I'm doing, and it's not disruptive. Grant purchased a Braille book for me to study at home. The Vogons in the Segregation Office can't think of a way to argue with me because I am attending class. These are fascinating new concepts - give others enough of what they want in order to receive enough of what I need. My career will not come to an end if I can't follow every single example. Enough != everything.

Blind in a Math Class

My pre-calculus professor shares a last name with the alternative rock artist whose single "Cuts You Up" was a number-one hit in the U.S. in the year 1990. Prof. Murphy has also grown fond of sharing all his thoughts about his blind student with Vogon#1 when said student is not present. This recently resulted in my receiving a nasty email from Vogon#1, in which she quoted rules and regulations which made no sense in this context and among many other demands made it clear that I was to start attending math class. I would now like to tell all my readers what I learned in math class today.

The first and most important thing I learned was that the rate at which crickets chirp can be determined by the temperature. At 40 degrees (fahrenheit?) and below, chirp rate = 0. 0 what, I don't know. It could be a measurement in hertz (complete cycles of a cricket's legs) or of individual chirps. The professor was too busy writing on the chalkboard to give many details. Yet there I was, expected by the same professor to gain from this experience. Class was going to take an hour and 45 minutes. Don't they realize that the function must end at the temperature at which a cricket's exoskeleton would burst and not at infinity? I did not contribute this or anything else to the discussion as I was busy rocking vigorously and searching for substantial content in the professor's speech. Although we had already discussed this, he still read many problems with the expectation that everyone was able to see them. The chair did not rock, spin, swing from the ceiling, or make any other motions. In addition I'd left my 33 irregularly-shaped hematite magnets at home and had already finished my crackers. My hands had no Braille, graphs, or anything else under them for following along with what the teacher was saying. It was all I could do to NOT stand up and start pacing in circles right there in class. I kept pointing the lens between my natural eyes to the blackboard on my left, the backpack on my desk, my hands, the ceiling...anything. The professor was now talking about a function whose purpose he had made known verbally but whose actual content was a mystery. I took out a tangerine-flavored gatorade and began imaging it from many angles and then drinking it and staring at the opening. My legs stretched out in front of me an encountered a wooden table. Hey, what's that thing on the table in front of me? It has a set of almost horizontal lines that merge to a flat surface which splits into another set of lines. I reached for it. My hands came to rest on the back of a computer monitor facing me at an angle. There were my lines. And then...splash! "Crap." The Neandertodd immediately stopped taking notes (They are unlikely to be Brailled anyway.) and told me to stop laughing while he cleaned up the mess. Second most important lesson relearned - place lids on drinks when not drinking them, especially when bored. The thing I need for my next math class is a stimulating audio computer game to play on my netbook. Any suggestions?

A Glimpse of Body Language

The transportation service where I live is quite random. Today it sent me a driver who was already carrying other passengers and did not want to answer any of my questions. He did not seem to understand that I had no other way of knowing the order in which events would take place and when I would be dropped off. This could either be due to a severe case of mind blindness or lack of enthusiasm for working on Sundays. He applied the gas and breaks very abruptly, drove fast, and honked his horn. I focused on the soundscapes and saw a set of stairs out my window right as we dropped off another passenger at a church on a university campus. They seemed to grow closer together as they rose to the right. The idea that stairs and buildings can seem to exist while I am in an enclosed space that is separate from them is relatively new.

An unknown number of time units later, I was being escorted through the wrong door at my own church. Still more time units passed, and then the message for this morning was presented by the Engineer, who normally leads the band. Since he is an engineer, he gave several examples and made a great deal of sense. After this, a friend and I were talking. "When you look at me," Ken asked, "what details can you make out?" He turned his head in a slow and exaggerated way until I could see it. Then something occurred to me. "You stand with your arms crossed, don't you?" I crossed mind over my chest to show him what I'd seen. "No. Arms cross means that one is defensive. I am not defensive, so I stand with one arm sticking way out and cause people to flip backwards when they walk by." His arms were no longer crossed when he made this joke, but because I see in still frames I cannot say exactly when he uncrossed them. Just then someone turned on the loud music which whited out most detail. Ken's image all but disappeared.

On the ride home with CBeth, the subject of the glasses came up and I explained what had happened. She said that Ken often stood this way and therefore I was correct. This is becoming very different from sonar in which a person is either present or absent, sitting or standing. Without the glasses they are all formed, yet featureless. It is only a matter of time before I recognize someone.