Penny and Carl,
It's really fascinating to me that you both had very poor vision as children,
but your poor vision wasn't a focus of your family's attention and a cause for
tremendous anxiety as mine was for my family. That's probably because I was an
only child and my mother was older than average when I was born. And they knew
from the moment that I was born that there was something terribly wrong with my
eyes. My eyes never looked normal and the doctors to whom they brought me for
consultation, all of them, said that I was blind and would be mentally retarded
and they recommended that I be institutionalized. My parents kept going to
different doctors, trying to find one who'd say something different. And
eventually they found one, a German Jewish doctor associated with the Manhattan
Eye and Ear Hospital who didn't think that my brain was damaged, and who
thought that he could improve my eyesight with surgery. But they kept asking me
if I could see stuff. I remember when I was about four years old, walking with
my parents and my aunt and uncle, and a plane flew past. Back then, you could
see the planes flying, no jet planes. They flew more slowly and not at as high
an altitude. So if your sight was normal, you could see them, and sometimes, I
could see them. But sometimes I couldn't, only I always said I could because I
knew how upset my mother would become if I admitted that I couldn't.
Miriam
-----Original Message-----
From: blind-democracy-bounce@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
<blind-democracy-bounce@xxxxxxxxxxxxx> On Behalf Of Carl Jarvis
Sent: Monday, December 17, 2018 1:19 PM
To: blind-democracy@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
Subject: [blind-democracy] Re: Ah Sweet Memories...and Some Not So Sweet
Disappointed? Be glad you don't drive.
Some of the most colorful language has been uttered by my otherwise sweet wife,
as she attempts to avoid being slaughtered on the highways.
Carl Jarvis
On 12/17/18, Penny Reeder <penny.reeder@xxxxxxxxx> wrote:
Hi Carl, It's interesting how many of us can describe such similar
experiences and attitudes from our growing-up years. I knew I couldn't
see very well, but the word, "blind" was never, ever mentioned in our
house, and it wasn't until I overheard a conversation my dad was
having with a man who worked for the industrial farming business for
whom my father worked in which he told his "boss" that his daughter
was "legally blind," that I ever even knew my eye condition
categorized me as "blind."
I can remember that, as a young child, I did realize that other people
could read the license plates on cars (which I couldn't even see if I
was a foot away from a car) and see who was driving, but I thought
that my vision would improve as I got older so that, by the time I
reached 16, I would see well enough to drive!
Maybe I'm still disappointed...
Penny
On 12/17/18, Carl Jarvis <carjar82@xxxxxxxxx> wrote:
Miriam,
Yes. I believed I was not visually impaired as a child. Even
wearing bifocals and not being able to read without them. Even not
being able to read the blackboards in class. Even having to stand
for several minutes against the wall when entering a dark room or a
theater until my eyes adjusted so I could make out shapes. Until I
had a detached retina at 17, and a blind man came to the door while I
was recovering from unsuccessful eye surgery and told me I could
probably attend the Washington State School for the Blind, I had
never before considered my eyes to be, "That Bad". Later my mother
told me that the school nurse had also suggested that I should attend
the Sight Saver Program at Warren Avenue school. My mother met with
someone at the school and toured the class. She told me many years
later that she could not put her son in a class of such weird
children. Today if I had the same amount of sight, I might be
considered a very high partial, or mildly visually impaired. But
because of the cataract surgery I had at the age of four, my eyes took a
very long time to adjust to light changes.
I could not drive at night because the headlights of passing cars
left me in absolute blackness for several seconds. After the retina
surgery I had only one eye, which affected my depth perception. Not
a great deal, but enough that even though I took and passed driver's
training, I never applied for a driver's license.
Probably my sight was less dependable than I thought, but I believe,
looking back, that I made every effort to pass for "normal".
Once I became totally blind, I bent every effort to "look normal".
Those were my words at the time. I was afraid people would see me
and "know I was blind". So the NFB was a natural fit for me.
Jacobus tenBroek's speeches moved me, and Kenneth Jernigan's
brilliance as a promoter drew me right in. I owe the NFB a huge
thanks for the emotional support I received, and the connections that
gave me entry into my career in the field of work with the blind.
As an adult, I met a number of those children my mother thought were
so weird. And yes, some of them grew up to be weird adults. But
they are also my friends and associates in the struggle to ensure
that today's blind children are raised in a more positive
environment, so they avoid the ignorance that was the basis for their own
behavior.
I will always thank my mother and dad for all that they did to assist
me in living the life I have lived. But even Saints have feet of
clay. In an effort to teach me to stand on my own two feet, my
mother...and to some extent my dad, implanted the impression that
being blind was something to be avoided at all costs. Of course the
sighted public also helped drive the message home.
But today, after a long wandering trip, I can honestly say that I am
every bit as good a human being as anyone...including Mother Teresa.
And so are you, Miriam.
Carl Jarvis
On 12/16/18, Miriam Vieni <miriamvieni@xxxxxxxxxxxxx> wrote:
Carl,
I was thinking about you and the fact that you've said that you were
visually impaired as a youngster. I'm not denying that fact, but
from what you've written, you were not nearly as disabled as I was
as a child. My early childhood memories are filled with visits to
the eye doctor and eye surgeries. And when I didn't have actual
surgery, I was examined in an operating room under ether because it
was easier for the doctor to examine my eyes when I was under
anesthetic. I was profoundly affected by those experiences. I was
phobic, for one thing. I was terrified of shoe stores because back
then, shoe salesman wore light colored jackets and I thought they
were doctors. I was frightened of a lot of other things as well,
walking on a lawn, at one point. For years, in high school, college,
and graduate school, when I was in a class where certain medical
conditions or procedures were described, I'd feel faint and have to
leave the room. At one point, many years later, I was with my
husband at a doctor's appointment and I smelled ether and felt
panicky. And I believe that having always seen myself as different
and damaged, had a very negative effect on my outlook on life. You
are upbeat. I am not. Of course, there are other things as well.
You're male and part of the white majority, and it is only in
retrospect, that you define yourself as a visually impaired child.
But when you were a child, you didn't see yourself as different or
damaged. I'm female and knew that I was a member of a minority group
that was disliked by a majority of Americans during my formative
years. When you became blind, you joined an organization that taught
its members that blindness isn't a handicap, only a nuisance, and
that message was drummed into its members just as relentlessly as
Christianity was by the church you joined. But my first encounter
with blindness was when I was seven years old and my parents
enrolled me for piano lessons at the Lighthouse in Manhattan, and I
then began attending the children's recreation program. And within a
year I went to the summer camp run by the New York Institute for the
Blind. I won't go into what that summer camp was like because it
would take too long to do so right now.
But
as a naïve partially sighted child, encountering totally blind
children, some of whom were very weird, to put it mildly, for the
first time, was a shock. And it caused all kinds of identity issues
which didn't become resolved for decades.
Miriam
-----Original Message-----
From: blind-democracy-bounce@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
<blind-democracy-bounce@xxxxxxxxxxxxx> On Behalf Of Carl Jarvis
Sent: Sunday, December 16, 2018 8:27 PM
To: blind-democracy@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
Subject: [blind-democracy] Re: The New York Times' Shameful Obituary
of Historian William Blum
In order to save costs, newspapers used very cheap paper and cheap ink.
The
result was print that was not clean. It also rubbed off on
the hands. After going through a paper the size of the NY Times, or
the Seattle Times, my hands would be black. In 1945 I carried the
Seattle Star, a six day a week paper. No Sunday edition. After
folding a paper and tossing it onto the customer's porch, my shirt
would come untucked and I'd shove it into my pants. After about
forty papers were delivered I headed home. I can remember looking
down at my shirt as I rounded the last turn and heading for the
door. Black!
My shirt front was black. I had not noticed it until I was just
about home, where I would encounter the wrath of my mother.
Of course she laid into me, telling me of how hard it was to keep
running the washing machine, and how I should think of all that when
I was getting my hands all dirty. Naturally I hadn't thought about
it, or I wouldn't have touched my shirt, thus avoiding the strong
lecture and the slaps. But as an adult I passed much of the blame
back to mother...not that she had any control over our poor income.
But mother bought my shirts at the J. C.
Penney bargain basement and at a couple of dime stores that carried
some cheap clothing. Woolworth and Kress. I was long in the waist
and the cheap shirts had almost no shirt tail for tucking in.
Because we had to be frugal and buy on the cheap, I wore holes in my
socks, holes in the soles of my shoes, and wore my shirts and pants
a second year. Since I was growing straight up like a weed, by the
end of the first year my sleeves were already above my wrists, and
my pants were above my ankles.
We lived in a very small, poorly built house on the side of a very
steep hill. A switchback path snaked up the hill from the highway,
past our kitchen door and on up to a dirt road above us. We did
have a grand view of Lake Union and beyond Capital Hill we looked at
the snow capped Cascades.
That highway went from Canada to Mexico, highway 99. It sounded
like an angry river during the day. At least we lived high above
it, out of range of the fumes that blackened the houses along the
sides. Growing up as a visually impaired boy, long before anyone
ever said, "visually impaired", and being among the very poor in a
community of upper middle Class families, had its hard times, but it
also toughened me up, something I would need in later life.
Carl Jarvis
On 12/16/18, Miriam Vieni <miriamvieni@xxxxxxxxxxxxx> wrote:
I grew up as a legally blind person who couldn't see well enough to
read newspapers. Using a magnifying glass was too difficult,
although it helped with reading books. I suppose that the newsprint
was too small. At any rate, I always felt locked out of this really
important source of information until the CCTV reading machine was
developed.
And then, I couldn't afford one until the Ethical Humanist Society
to which we belonged, loaned or gave me the money. I can't remember
which. But that must have been in the mid 1960's. And even then,
the newspaper was too unwieldy to put under the machine. A friend
of mine used to cut out articles for me. It took me a very long
time to discover that the newspaper wasn't necessarily a font of
wisdom. One of the podcasts I listen to is "Citations Needed", and
it's all about how we're manipulated by propaganda that is
implanted in the points of view of news stories. One of the hosts
is a reporter for FAIR, which is a media watchdog. Fair has a
podcast called Counterpunch, a much less sophisticated podcast
about the media. But ever since I began using the computer to read
articles and even before I joined the Blind democracy list, people
were sending me material from alternative news sources and I was
also reading mainstream media stories and was able to understand
how facts can be emphasized or omitted so that my opinions could be
manipulated. After I began reading the material that Sylvie was
posting and also listening to Democracy Now, I began to discover
that I could trust certain journalists more than others, and that I
could listen to and read a number of articles about an issue, and
come to my own tentative conclusion about what the reality might be.
Miriam
-----Original Message-----
From: blind-democracy-bounce@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
<blind-democracy-bounce@xxxxxxxxxxxxx> On Behalf Of Carl Jarvis
Sent: Sunday, December 16, 2018 11:05 AM
To: blind-democracy@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
Subject: [blind-democracy] Re: The New York Times' Shameful
Obituary of Historian William Blum
According to undocumented scraps of yellowed notes in my dad's
folder, a distant cousin was one of the founders of the New York Times.
Henry Jarvis Raymond (January 24, 1820 – June 18, 1869) was an
American journalist, politician, and co-founder of The New York
Times, which he founded with George Jones.
Obviously Henry Jarvis Raymond came from the wealthy, conservative
side of the family forest. The "Pure" Jarvis stock had been
settled in the Grafton, (West)Virginia since the mid 1750's...at
least. They were mostly working class. Farmers, miners and
Trackers. But in those days it was not uncommon to be the distant
cousin of just about everybody. I've mentioned that my several
times Great Uncle was Jefferson Davis. An aunt who lived in the
Grafton area was Anna Jarvis, founder of Mother's Day. My
grandmother Jarvis' brothers, Samuel and James Hickman, and a
cousin John Hickman were all pastors of large congregations. But
my direct linage consisted of miners, loggers, farmers and
Radicals. Searching back to John Jarvis, a farmer in
(West)Virginia, I seem to be the first Jarvis in that line, who
attended college.
But back to the New York Times. It was nicknamed, "The Gray Lady".
I used to buy a copy at the news stand on my way home from the
Drapery Factory. If I found a seat on the bus, I'd read the
Editorial section and leave most of the paper on the bus. The
majority of the NY Times was about as bland as the Seattle Times(no
connection) only bigger.
Going back to the mid 1950's, I can't figure out how that paper
earned the label of Liberal Press. For much of my youth, I trusted
the major papers, believing that they reported All the news. But
as I grew up, I saw how the Press could manipulate the news, and
which news was published, and which was not. I saw honest, caring
people crucified because they held different opinions than those of
the Nation's Masters. I saw my name and my fiancee's name(later my
wife, Cathy)dragged through the Seattle PI. I watched as close
friends of my parents were labelled Communists, and fired from
their jobs. And later, I watched as close friends of Cathy's and
mine were attacked by so called investigative reporters, and left
wounded by the side of the road. I learned to never trust a word I
read until I have proof that it represents factual information.
Seldom has the Working Class had a national Public Platform, a
People's Press.
And the experiment called PBS has been corrupted by the private
sector until it no longer, if it ever did, represents the voice of the
people.
If we are going to fight for Truth, then we must explore everything
we hear.
Find the source. Learn what is driving the people behind the news.
Engage one another in dissecting the day's news. Find out why
certain news reports are not put forth.
Protecting our freedom is constant hard work. Not that we should
turn our backs on the joys of life, but we must be aware that if we
do not maintain a free press, we will lose what free choice we still have.
Carl Jarvis
On 12/15/18, Miriam Vieni <miriamvieni@xxxxxxxxxxxxx> wrote:
Well, there are two things to consider in relation to this. First,
the guy who wrote the obituary is not a Liberal. He's a Conservative.
Second, if the New York Times were ever a liberal paper, it
changed quite a while ago, certainly by the time it
unquestioningly supported W. Bush's story about Iraqi weapons of
mass destruction. Actdually, I think perhaps there's a third
point to make, which is that probably The New York Times was never as
liberal as everyone thought it was.
Miriam
-----Original Message-----
From: blind-democracy-bounce@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
<blind-democracy-bounce@xxxxxxxxxxxxx> On Behalf Of Carl Jarvis
Sent: Saturday, December 15, 2018 5:11 PM
To: blind-democracy@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
Subject: [blind-democracy] Re: The New York Times' Shameful
Obituary of Historian William Blum
So Donald Trump believes the Press is Liberal?
Carl Jarvis
On 12/15/18, Miriam Vieni <miriamvieni@xxxxxxxxxxxxx> wrote:
The New York Times' Shameful Obituary of Historian William Blum
Jens Schott Knudsen / Flickr
You know you’ve lived well-well enough to rattle the
establishment-when the New York Times smears you in the obituary
it runs about you (FAIR.org, 6/20/13).
That distinction was achieved by William Blum, historian and
critic of US foreign policy. Once a State Department computer
programmer who aspired to “take part in the great anti-Communist
crusade,” he quit government in
1967 out of disgust with the Vietnam War and became a founding
editor of the Washington Free Press, one of the first alternative
papers of the New Left.
In books like The CIA: A Forgotten History (re-released as
Killing
Hope: US Military and CIA Interventions Since World War II) and
Rogue
State: A Guide to the World’s Only Superpower, Blum documented
the violent and anti-democratic record of the US empire; he was a
reference that FAIR frequently turned to when noting what was
missing from the corporate media’
s version of history.
How did the New York Times (12/11/18) frame this remarkable life?
With this remarkable headline:
William Blum, US Policy Critic Cited by bin Laden, Dies at 85
Yes, to the Times, the most important thing about Bill Blum’s
life is that Osama bin Laden once remarked to Americans, in a
tape released from hiding, that Rogue State would be “useful for
you to read.”
“Blum denounced the September 11, 2001, terrorist attacks in New
York and Washington,” obituary writer Sam Roberts acknowledged,
“and said he would not want to live under an Islamic
fundamentalist regime.”
But, Roberts scolded,
“
he did not disavow the recommendation or express regret that bin
Laden, the orchestrator of those attacks, shared his disdain for
the policies carried out by the department where he had once worked.
It’s unclear what formulation Roberts was looking for from Blum;
should he have denied that his book would be “useful…to read,” or
wished aloud that bin Laden had been a supporter of the State
Department policies? There are certainly some policies where
you’d find the State Department, Al Qaeda and the New York Times
on one side, and Blum on the other-such as the invasion of
Afghanistan that bin Laden hoped to provoke with the 9/11
attacks, and the protection of Idlib, Al Qaeda’s last stronghold
in Syria, from Syrian government attack. Should the Times
“express regret” that it finds itself on the same side as the
9/11 orchestrators? The editors would no doubt protest that they
backed the invasion of Afghanistan and the defense of Idlib for
very different reasons than Al Qaeda would, but that’s a
distinction that they don’t grant their ideological enemies.
If it wanted to give a better sense of the relationship between
William Blum, the US foreign policy establishment and Islamic
extremism, it might have noted that it was William Blum who
spotted and translated (with David
Gibbs) the interview Zbigniew Brzezinski, President Jimmy
Carter’s national security adviser, gave to the French
publication Le Nouvel Observateur (1/15/98). In the interview,
Brzezinski boasted of launching a secret program in 1979 to
undermine the government of Afghanistan, a covert operation that
he correctly predicted “was going to induce a Soviet military
intervention.” Asked by the interviewer, “Do you regret having
supported the Islamic fundamentalism, having given arms and advice to
future terrorists?”
Brzezinski responded:
“
What is most important to the history of the world? The Taliban
or the collapse of the Soviet empire? Some stirred-up Muslims or
the liberation of Central Europe and the end of the Cold War?
When Brzezinksi died in 2017, his New York Times obituary did not
bear the headline, “Brzezinski, Official Who Boasted of Promoting
Al Qaeda, Dies at 89″-though surely that is more relevant to
Brzezinski’s legacy than bin Laden’s book review is to Blum’s.
The Blum obit achieved what former FAIR staffer Peter Hart
described as “peak NY Times” with this petty put down:
“
He also reiterated his unpopular, but not unique, position that
American intervention abroad had been breeding enemies and
inviting terrorism.
It’s not clear how “unpopular” Blum’s views were-in a 2013 YouGov
poll,
61 percent agreed with the statement, “In the long run, the
United States will be safer from terrorism if it stays out of
other countries’
affairs”
-but what is certainly “not unique” was the Times’ attempt to use
an obituary to settle ideological scores.
Jim Naureckas / FAIR
#al qaeda #cia #jimmy carter #killing hope #new york #new york
times #osama bin laden #
