abdulah,
you should definitely register a complaint/protest against this
receptionist/scheduler.
Again, to use everyone’s favorite yardstick: would it be acceptable if she told
clients, “only one massage therapist is available, but he is black?”
So why is she able to get away with substituting “blind” for black?”
Go straight to the top on this one, at least that is my opinion…
good luck.
alice
On Aug 27, 2015, at 6:07 AM, abdulah aga <abdulahhasic@xxxxxxxxxxx> wrote:
Hi Miriam and other list member
Miriam you sad this
can't she get work as a social worker?
you have to know that is not same in every state, every town,
things is different:
like my case, in some state and some town it is very easy get what people
want to,
but for other people for some rizents is very hard.
Like me, I am lost any hop for any work,
what ever I try its com something to enable me to do:
even if I have so many training for some work or so on so on,
jus one examples
when I took course for massage therapy and
I have to do round 300 hours intershift like practical on patient massage,
when some call to ask for massage or to see when he or she can com,
lady who work on front desk each time when some one call she say we have one
guy he is right now free but he is blind!
now when you have some one from other site phone and her it and he or she
didn't have contact with blind people then you can thinks what reaction is it.
thru this course I learn something what I never didn't thinks that can happen
in USA and I have positive thinks about USA and people's behave to blind
people,
for that time I find out I was rung,
for that time I see how is very hard or almost impossible find job for blind
people or how much is stereo type to disable in USA.
we her talking jus for ordinal people as stereotype but more big
problem is on feel by education people who is job to help or who work with
blind people.
Carle make good exompool when he work for blind
and when was one senator in visit,
when sad you blind people should get what ever you want to,
but next time when was wotting for something about disable he was agenst
that, this is good sine
how education people understand blind people and when they are need to do
something then this people do agenst blind people good understanding.
abdulah hasic.
-----Original Message----- From: Carl Jarvis
Sent: Wednesday, August 26, 2015 3:06 PM
To: blind-democracy@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
Subject: [blind-democracy] Re: interesting article by blind photographer
Naturally I wondered the same thing. My guess would be that her
employer was eager to help her out of a job, and she was too
uninformed and traumatized to resist. From time to time we encounter
such people. They felt they could not do the job, even though blind
people were doing the same work elsewhere. By the time they are
referred to us, all doors have been closed.
As an old photographer myself, I would not consider pointing a camera
and clicking to be Art. But for someone with limited vision, someone
who can appreciate general shapes and patterns and shades, I'd say,
"go for it". But if I were looking for a job that paid a living wage,
I'd explore ways of opening doors to the profession I'd been employed
in prior to vision loss. Then photography would be a relaxing leisure
time hobby.
My bet is that this woman lacks the self-confidence and the
information she needs to go back into her former field. I know many
blind people in the social services field who are making a decent
living. I know of none in photography making anything approaching a
living.
Carl Jarvis
Carl Jarvis
On 8/26/15, Miriam Vieni <miriamvieni@xxxxxxxxxxxxx> wrote:
Why can't she get work as a social worker? That's one of the professions
that has been open to blind people. Well, open in a limited fashion but
it's
ironic that she says her blindness stopped her from being a social worker.
As for her photography, I'm glad she's enjoying it. I'm not sure that what
she's doing is art, but it's nice that she's having fun.
Miriam
-----Original Message-----
From: blind-democracy-bounce@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
[mailto:blind-democracy-bounce@xxxxxxxxxxxxx] On Behalf Of Carl Jarvis
Sent: Wednesday, August 26, 2015 10:43 AM
To: blind-democracy
Subject: [blind-democracy] interesting article by blind photographer
We can let events get the best of us, like that "poor me" feeling when we
begin losing our sight, or we can make lemonade out of those pesky lemons.
The following article is one about making lemonade. No, I'm not suggesting
that we all rush out and buy a camera. But we can stop and look at those
things that interest us. And we can explore ways of modifying them so we
can have that feeling of accomplishment that the author expresses.
Carl Jarvis
*****
I'm a legally blind photographer. Here's how modern technology makes
that possible.
by
Tammy Ruggles
on July 13, 2015
I was declared legally blind 14 years ago, at the age of 40. I lost my
driver's license and my social work position, for which I had earned a
bachelor's and master's. It was my chosen profession, and I didn't give it
up lightly. When it disappeared, so did some of my confidence and sense of
identity. What was I to call myself if not a social worker?
I ended up becoming a photographer.
The words "legally blind photographer" don't sound like they should exist
together. Indeed, until recently I didn't think this path was available to
me.
I'd always loved taking pictures, ever since I was a little girl, snapping
shots of my family and pets with the Kodak and Polaroid cameras my mother
always had around.
The author at age 5. (Tammy Ruggles)
But I was born with retinitis pigmentosa, a progressive blinding disease
that deteriorates the retinas over time. And with retinitis pigmentosa
comes
night blindness, which meant I couldn't see in a darkroom to use the
chemicals and develop photos, nor could I read the settings on a camera to
shoot manually — all major problems in the era before digital photography.
So as a teenager I decided, regretfully, to put my love of photography in a
box and leave it alone.
I didn't feel bitter about it. It was just another adjustment I had to make
given the vision problem I had.
The miracle of the digital camera
My condition didn't deter me from enjoying photography in my mind. I read
about photographers like Alfred Stieglitz and Ansel Adams, and daydreamed
about the kind of pictures I would make if I could — not family snapshots
with a disposable camera, but those on the fine art, creative side of
photography.
Maybe a mountain, or a snow-covered field, or an unusually shaped tree.
Definitely landscapes, because I'd grown up with rural scenery all around
me.
Then, in 2013, after I could no longer drive, practice social work, or
sketch drawings, I decided to turn my dream of being a photographer into a
reality.
I had heard so much about how easy point-and-shoot digital cameras were,
and
I wanted to try one.
I still have some vision. "Legally blind" doesn't mean completely blind.
Each person's experience is different, but for me it means that everything
I
see is extremely blurry — oddly enough, like a camera lens that is turned
so
far out of focus that you can't distinguish a person from a tree, or see
where steps begin and end, or where the restroom door is, or what a
person's
features look like. I see the general blurry shape of things, and the
closer
I am to something, the better I can determine what it is.
I still have some vision. Everything I see is very blurry — oddly enough,
like an out-of-focus camera lens.
When the camera arrived in the mail, it sat for days unopened. I was afraid
of what people might think or say: "A legally blind photographer?"
The question I asked myself.
I lost social work. This would be just another thing to lose.
Self-doubt crept in.
But the idea wouldn't leave me alone. And so, with a little nudge from my
son — he actually took the first picture — I picked up the camera and
walked
around my backyard with it, snapping the shutter just to see what I could
capture.
When I transferred the images to my 47-inch monitor, I was amazed at what I
couldn't see in my own backyard, but what my camera could:
purplish blueberries
in some brush. Wild pumpkins at the edge of the woods. Individual brown
leaves on a tree (it was fall of that year).
(Tammy Ruggles)
Not only could I take the kind of pictures I'd always wanted to take, I
could see things with my camera that I couldn't see without it, like it's a
second set of eyes. A double gift.
I didn't need a darkroom, because images are "developed" inside the camera.
I didn't need to read the settings, because I had the camera set on auto.
How I work
I take most of my photos outside, in black and white — I see best in
contrast, plus I've always admired the classic black-and-white style.
Sometimes I
move up close to something of interest while walking, hold the camera about
three or four inches away from it, and snap the shutter.
(Tammy Ruggles)
Other times, I literally point randomly in the direction of blurry hills
and
vague shapes of trees, or whatever is out there in the world, and take a
picture.
(Tammy Ruggles)
With landscapes and nature, my vision doesn't have to be perfect. I can be
abstract and make mistakes.
(Tammy Ruggles)
People are more challenging to photograph. I can't tell if someone is
looking at the camera, or if I'm cutting off heads, or centering, or if the
lighting is right or wrong. I can capture someone in a general way, or a
natural way, or in a candid shot, but doing formal portraits in a studio
isn't for me.
I've tried it, but you need better vision to do it well.
Then comes the heart of my work: I take my camera home to my large monitor
to see what I've captured. There's a photography term called "the decisive
moment."
It means knowing when to snap the shutter at the perfect second. My
decisive
moments come after I've taken the pictures, when I make my selections on my
big screen. I'm often surprised at the accidental pictures, like a bird
perched in a tree, or power lines that make for an abstract composition.
(Tammy Ruggles)
I delete many more photos than I keep, and the ones I keep are the ones I
can see best —high contrast, simple composition, and subjects I can make
out
fairly well.
I've never had formal photography classes, but I do use the art education
I've had in the past, as well as my years of sketching. I also learn from
my
favorite photography "mentors" online, Ted Forbes and Ibarionex Perello,
who
both teach the art of photography.
How my low vision affects my art — for the better
If my vision condition is an asset to me as a photographer, it's in that
it's helped define my style. I don't try to set up a photo or have any
preconceived notions about what the picture should look like. I don't fret
over how a shot should look beforehand.
I don't compare notes with other photographers with full vision, because I
already know that their approaches and techniques are different from mine.
They use a viewfinder, and can see details in the subject, background, and
environment they're shooting. They may adjust settings to their taste.
I don't worry
about how other photographers work; I'm just happy to have found a way to
do
my own work with a camera.
I can see things with my camera that I can't see without it, like it's a
second set of eyes
I don't agonize over my art. I snap pictures, then choose the ones I like.
If I don't have any from the day's shooting that I like, it's okay. I can
always take another picture. And when the day comes that I can't take
pictures this way anymore, because my vision has deteriorated so much, then
I will find a way for that to be okay, too, because I have a collection of
photos that I'm happy with.
I'd like to think that my photography is pretty or interesting, but I can
never really be sure unless someone tells me. I rely on people's reactions.
It helps me to know how the photo makes others feel. I've had reactions
ranging from "bleak and dreary" to "beautiful." I accept all of them,
because I feel honored to be able to take photos. I've learned that it's
hard to stifle creativity, and that there is more than one way to express
yourself artistically.
I've learned that with the right technology and a shift in perspective,
people can do things they thought impossible.
Tammy Ruggles is a fine-art photographer in Kentucky. You can find more of
her work at her website.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
----
First Person
is Vox's home for compelling, provocative narrative essays. Do you have a
story to share? Read our submission guidelines, and pitch us at
firstperson@xxxxxxx.
list of 3 items
More from First Person
I lost 100 pounds in a year. My "weight loss secret" is really dumb.
What it's like to go blind
I have narcolepsy, and I hate that people think I’m just lazy list end
