How leaders prevent social exclusion: Raw experience and practical tips

I'm sitting on the hard bench of a cafeteria table on the ground floor of my elementary school where the cafeteria is. There's a pock-marked wall. Dark green.

Weird details stand out. I have a vague impression of plastic trays, the light from the kitchen and the voice of my second-grade teacher who has pigs at home that eat our leftovers... And the big table where I sit alone. 

There are several tables in the lunch room. All of them packed. Except mine. 

I was seven or eight, nine or ten that day. Hard to say. It went on for years.

The memory of pain is distant. I have to focus to perceive that my chest feels tight, my heartbeat has sped up, there's a loud ringing in my ears that drowns out present reality and my nose stings as if I've just snorted up chlorinated pool water. The mental image of that cafeteria automatically sends my body into overdrive--ready to fight for survival. If I'm with someone else when this memory surfaces, chances are that I'll suddenly find myself screaming, crying and/or fighting with them--having blacked out for a moment, unable to understand how I ended up acting like this. 

Classic trauma response, as if I was a vet with PTSD.

Creative Commons image by Martinak15 of Flickr.com

But there wasn't even very much violence involved. I was only beaten up a handful of times on a playground as a kid (that I remember). 

So, what are the PTSD symptoms from? 

A few years ago an adult friend told me she'd visited my old elementary school before it was torn down. She said she was shocked to hear kids daring each other to touch the diseased "Arie hole" in the wall of the cafeteria. She described the pock-marked wall I remember exactly. This new generation of kids had hear of my mythical cooties.

And I'd left that elementary school fifteen years earlier. 

Because I don't remember much of those years, I have only the facts I have been told by witnesses to go on in trying to trace my traumatic responses to their source:

• I had no friends at school. None. Even though I tried to be friendly. I shared things freely. I was never intentionally mean or unsocial..
• I made deals with my friends from outside school to pretend we didn’t know each other in school in order to protect them from being ostracized by association.
• I wasn't just picked last. I was never allowed to join in games at recess. 
• I sat alone at lunch every day, even though other tables were crowded..
• I cried and argued when I was rejected. I was not the quiet suffering type.
• I often sat in the classroom during recess, because I was no more popular with the teachers and I was always in trouble.
• I asked too many questions in class and interrupted to ask if I could get out of my seat to try to see the blackboard closer. I annoyed and frustrated teachers.
• Kids my age never came to my birthday parties. Except when I was seven my mother made a great effort to make sure other girls came to my birthday party. She cajoled other parents into it. I remember the pretty napkins and party favors, the outdoor fairy tea party table we set up. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity and even so I was largely left out while the others played. But at least I remember that day, unlike most of the others, which are blank holes.

Those are the things I’ve been told. In essence I was shunned. That may even be all, nothing worse than that,. It doesn’t sound that extreme when written down that way. It sounds like I should have just been more sociable and everything would have been fine. At least that’s what people would like to think.

Creative Commons image by  CileSuns92 of Flickr.com

Why was I isolated in elementary school? Does the specific reason matter? There is often a kid like this--if not in every classroom than at least in almost every school. I've seen them. The ones no one will touch. Sometimes teachers try to help them and some times teachers dislike them as much as the kids do. They're chosen last again and again or not chosen at all if that's an option. They always have to partner with the teacher on projects and sometimes even the teacher resents it. These kids have disabilities or they're overweight  or they are visibly different in some other way or their parent's are poor or they're foster kids or they come to school dirty and hungry or they're just "a bit odd."  

It seems like every time I hear a discussion about bullying and social exclusion these days the whole thing gets bogged down in, "Yes, everyone is bullied at school. These mean girls called me..." 

I'm sorry to draw a line, but no, that isn't actually the same thing. Being teased or beaten up or harassed by some mean kids occasionally is not the same. It isn't okay either. It hurts and kids should be protected from that sort of thing. But it isn't the kind of bullying that we need to be talking about most. The kind that causes PTSD-like symptoms. This is social exclusion and it's a kind of bullying that 90 percent of the population, both children and adults, perpetrate--often without realizing it.

Social isolation - social exclusion

Unlike the inspiring stories on Facebook about a kid who is bullied and then the whole town comes out to support him, those who suffer from social isolation are almost entirely voiceless. They don't have a fan club. They aren't good looking or inspiring. They are the ones who make you uncomfortable, so you move across the room at a party without even consciously registering that you’re doing it.

And adults do it as much, if not more than kids. In fact it's becoming a hot-button topic in leadership training and all types of organizations interested in social cohesion and productive group dynamics.

Here's a real-life example of how social exclusion happens among adults.

I recently attended a week-long retreat in the mountains. It was my second year at the retreat but most of the people had been there longer, for as long as eight years. Most of them had formed strong friendships over the years. The group is interested in being mutually supportive for people with a particular family issue to deal with. The first year I attended I had high hopes for finding some friends.

By the second year, I knew not to expect much. But I went because there were things there that my kids needed.

I'm not a small child anymore and I know that the people at the retreat didn't mean to be cruel or even intentionally exclude me. And yet it happened. Again.

The first day, I made a huge effort to remember people's names. I wrote down and memorized the name every time I met someone new. But most people had been there the year before so they didn’t introduce themselves. They just called out greetings in a swirl around me. I may have heard everyone’s name once in a circle, but I couldn’t see the faces as the introductions were happening. I can’t see faces further away than four inches and they were sitting across the room.

I’m legally blind. And because I couldn’t see faces when I was an infant either, I never acquired the neurological hardwiring that allows people to easily remember the nuances of faces, so even photographs are only marginally useful. I don't have a problem remembering names, like a lot of people with that legitimate problem. I have a problem registering faces.

I know it seems like people would be understanding about the fact that a blind person doesn't recognize people's faces. But they usually aren't. I have been shocked time and again when people act offended at my assertion that I simply can't recognize them, while I'm holding a white cane. I've had people say openly, "That's no excuse. Don't you recognize voices?" or "You just don't care to try hard enough."  

Well, yes, after several longer conversations when I know who the person speaking is, I do eventually recognize voices. But when I'm in a group introduction situation, I only have that one brief sentence of introduction that is connected to the name. After that, it's just a jumble. There is no way I can connect a particular voice back to that name that was mentioned once at a distance.

So, by the second day of the retreat I had a list of names. And I had a few people who I could recognize by their voices. But I still had no idea which name belonged to which voice. And most voices were still a jumble because the others rarely conversed with me.

So, let me get down to why a little. My eyes look strange and that's off-putting. Subconsciously. They're squinty and the move strangely. I also can't do those basic social things like smile at a person in a group to show that I recognize them or use another person’s name and make eye contact when I say hello after all. Sometimes I don’t even acknowledge a friend's presence with a polite hello.

As so many times before, my fellows at the retreat soon thought of me as aloof and somewhat antisocial. They began to ignore me. Those few particularly thoughtful souls who initially made the effort to greet everyone they saw in the morning or at meal times stopped saying hello to me.  

Is this hard to believe? I’ve tried to explain it before and friends often shake their heads and say that surely people are not so quick to judge. But I’ve seen it happen over and over again and again, every time I join a new group. My friends ask me why I don’t just tell others that I can’t see them and can’t recognize them. And yes, I do that sometimes. I used to do it more. But it almost always backfires and creates even more severe social problems. People don't understand why I am telling them this when we first meet.

And it isn't primarily a conscious judgment people make. For adults, it is a function of the business of life and the fact that social situations are chaotic. They simply prioritize those they connect with more easily. And then when there is a connection with me and I then say I don't know their name, they are a bit offended.

I would bet you don’t think you would be offended by a person with a white cane if they asked for your name after several days of intense conversations. And maybe you are the exception.. But I have seen it happen more times than I care to count. When I come to the point when I can actually recognize a person's voice after either several days of close-quarters contact at an event or several months of occasional contact among neighbors, I have asked for a reintroduction with a name and people go cold with shock. They have known me for a long time, by their reckoning, and the idea that I was "faking" that I knew them all this time is very disconcerting. They feel betrayed and used.  The budding friendship ends. So, I have learned to keep my mouth shut and hope for a clear mention of their name by someone else in a situation where i can tell who is who just from listening. 

At this retreat, I vowed that I would do things right. I wrote down names and notes about people. I forced myself to focus on pretending to make eye contact by looking joyfully into the blurry dark spots where people’s eyes usually are. I greeted guests at the mountain lodge brightly and ended up with several quizzical responses from people who were not part of our group. But it wasn’t enough. Plenty of times I felt someone brush past me when I had not been quick enough to greet them in the hallway. By the second day, none of our group said “hello“ or “good morning“ to me anymore.

I could hear conversation going on all around me at meal times, but I was outside of it. When I tried to participate the effect was awkward and I often ended up interrupting people anyway because I couldn’t see them taking a breath or see the the focused look in their eyes that people know means someone is about to speak.

On the fourth day, I was sitting next to two other women at the outdoor fire, listening as one questioned the other on a point about a new law that would affect our group. Interested, I leaned into the conversation and asked a question of my own. The woman who had been holding forth turned on me and demanded “What?” with irritation in her voice. It was clear that she had considered their conversation to be private, even though we were sitting close together.

I was gradually falling out of the group. I’ve seen it happen time and again as an adult. Everyone else knew everyone else's name. This was a group that prides itself on being inclusive and friendly. They all greeted each other on the garden walkways outside or in the common room both with words and eyes. They noticed that I didn’t do these things, but they didn’t make the connection to the fact that I couldn’t see them, partly because I walk and hold myself like sighted people do. I have learned mobility well, in some ways too well.

Toward the end of the week-long retreat, I was having a particularly difficult morning. I felt isolated. No one had spoken to me the day before. And that morning the group  activities were impossible for me to participate in. One involved remembering some words the presenter wrote on a flip chart at the front of the room. Except the presenter didn't mention that there were words on a flip chart because everyone could see them and we were half-way through the activity before I realized what I was missing. By the time I went up to the chart and copied down the words the activity was over. 

The next activity was a dance workshop. It was supposed to make us feel good, creative and free, while we learned specific dance steps. Everyone was up in the middle of the circle. The music was lively. Most people had seen these dance steps at previous retreats. I remembered the painful dance workshop from the year before too. I like to dance and would have loved to know the steps, but the presenter simply demonstrated the steps in the middle of the group without words or description. She emphasized the steps once for the group slowly and then moved faster.

Even the slow demonstration was a blur to me. I had made sure I was standing near the presenter but I still couldn’t see her feet beyond the blur. I could hear the rhythm and I tried to guess. If the presenter had gone slowly three or four times and described the steps, I could have done the rest by listening to the rhythm. But there wasn't time. Many of the participants were kids and they had to keep things hopping. Most people already knew those dances from previous years anyway. I was the only odd one out.

So, I didn't ask for help. It would have disrupted the whole group. And that was why my nerves were raw as I came into the cafeteria of the retreat area for lunch with my four-year-old son.

I approached two places at one of the tables that seemed to be free. “We’re sitting there,” a woman’s voice came from behind me as I pulled the chair out. I looked around. There were clearly no other places left inside the cafeteria, maybe one alone in a corner but not two for me and my son.

A few people always had to sit outside in the direct sun with swarms of wasps at every meal, because the cafeteria is too small. That was hard on me. The bright light is very uncomfortable for my eyes and I can’t see the wasps, so the chances are very high that I’ll be stung, particularly on my mouth or tongue, while eating.

Trying to sit inside, I had been asked to move at every meal. Each time the reason was something like, “We want to sit here with our friends,” or “We’ve been sitting here all week. This is our table.” By this time late in the retreat, all the places inside had become someone’s “regular spot.” And I was in no regular group of friends. I had no regular place. As usual, I was being pushed out.

And it was a cafeteria again. Is there anything more hardwired in our DNA when it comes to social exclusion. There literally was no place at the table for me. I noticed that someone had in fact reserved these places with spoons, in order to go get the food.

"Fine. You all have your places and your friends. There's no place for us." I turned and snapped at the woman. She carried an infant in her arms and clearly didn't want to sit outside either. 

The room went dark around me. The roaring in my ears blocked out sound. The cascade of trauma response had started and I couldn’t think straight. My heart was hammering and I was filled with seething fear, anger, shame and grief, beyond anything that is bearable. Certainly beyond any normal response to being asked to honor a seat reservation. 

I whirled away then and tried to run out of the room. Some small voice of reason at the back of my mind was urging me to get away, not to have an emotional meltdown in front of people I wanted to befriend. But I couldn’t get through the crowd. The tenuous hold I had on my emotions slipped and I was crying, sobbing in front of everyone.

The woman who had sparked my reaction was shocked. She had simply been asking for the place that she had reserved and she had an allergy to wasp stings that could put her in the hospital if she sat outside. Others clamored around me, disapproving of my outburst and interpreting it as simple willful desire for that chair.

“What is such a big deal? Just go sit outside.”

“For heaven’s sake, you’ll get to eat too. You don’t need to force your way into everything."

"You're a bit overweight anyway.”

“You could try thinking of someone else for a change.”

I could only cry harder. How could I explain? They were already convinced that I was aloof. I didn’t know their names and they all knew mine and each other’s. This was so much bigger than not wanting to sit out with the wasps that I couldn’t see.

How can organizers foster inclusion in a group?

That sort of social disaster is usually where this sort of episode in my life ends. People feel that I have acted badly, selfishly and with too much emotion. I apologize profusely and flee. If I have to continue to be around that group for some reason, the relationship is strained and cold. Otherwise, I never see those people again. And the next time I try to make friends the same thing happens. No matter how hard I try to make it come out differently.

But this wasn’t the average situation. The organizers of the group had a deep interest in social inclusion. They didn’t notice the warning signs of social exclusion in the group, but once the meltdown happened they stepped up to the challenge. We worked out a plan together for how to prevent these sorts of problems, not just for me but for others as well. 

And the very first bit of the plan implemented on the last day of this retreat had immediate and tangible results. The group was asked to break up into groups for a project. I dread such scenarios because the groups are always formed by preexisting friendships. I end up either the odd person out or in a group of those who are lackadaisical or disinterested in the project (those being the reasons why they didn’t manage to get a place in a “real” group).

But this time the organizers tried my first suggestion for fostering social inclusion, and the effect was that all the groups--not just the one I was in--were extraordinarily successful in their projects. The cooperation in my group was vibrant and one of the members of the group who had seemed most irritated with me led the group and included me fully.

Creative Commons image by Grupo Emaús F.S

Working with groups of children might be a bit different, but this time I'm going to focus on tips for teachers of adults, event organizers, teen camp counselors, social groups, working groups, professional teams and activist organizations who want to truly ensure that no one is excluded. Ensuring inclusion in a group, not only is the right thing to do and avoids social unpleasantness, it also clearly boosts the work of any group and ensures that teams reach their goals more effectively. 

 For now, I suggest five areas of focus for group leaders and event organizers: 

• the language of inclusion,
• access to information and spaces,
• introductions,
• relationships and
• effort

Within those topics here are specific tips and ideas:

Creative Commons image by HA1-000974 of Flickr.com

1. One of the easiest and most concrete ways to ensure inclusion is to moderate the forming of sub-groups. When something requires the large group to split up into smaller groups either A. split up the group randomly by counting people off, B. assign groups based on the known strengths and weaknesses of participants in order to ensure all groups will have the skill sets needed to succeed or C. ask group participants to consciously attempt to join a group with those they have not worked with before or don’t know well. (Each of these methods has its advantages and disadvantages depending on the size and type of group you’re working with, but if employed well they will vastly improve group dynamics.)
2. Include the “language of inclusivity” in promotional and organizational messages for your group. When you write an email to remind participants what to bring or similar details, don’t consider it corny to mention your hope that everyone will be included. Ask participants to be conscious that some people will know each other and others won’t know anyone in the group. Ask them to reach out to those who are new as one of the ways to support the goals of the group (even if and possibly especially if those goals are simply to have fun).
3. When you make introductory remarks in front of the group, emphasize inclusion and the need for participants to help one another with details and include those who tend to be on the margins. State your intentions and make social inclusion an open goal of the group. It will support all other goals, including professional and technical objectives.
4. When you print out schedules or programs include a note on them about who to ask if you need assistance due to a disability or language difficulty as well as an upbeat note asking participants to lend a hand when they see someone who is lost or having difficulty. These notes may seem like pro forma political correctness (and they can be just that if organizers don't follow through with other measures), but wide experience of professionals in social work and psychology shows that the goals and intentions we state do have an impact. Not everyone will heed your reminders, but some will and that will often be enough to ensure that your participants aren’t excluded and your goals are reached more effectively.
5. Try to ensure that there is enough space/chairs/tables/materials for everyone registered for your event or meeting. It may seem like a small thing that someone has to go without and it is small, IF it happens to that person only once. But the fact is that the last person in any line and the last person materials are handed around to is very often the same person again and again. People hand materials to people they know. And the reason a person is last in line (such as mobility or sensory problems) will often make them last in every line. I have been the only person without a seat or an information packet when such things were handed out at conferences and meetings more times than I can count.
6. If you do have a shortage, make a specific effort to make sure that the most socially vulnerable people are not those left without. Those who are friends of the organizers can often help by accepting whatever shortfall happens by accident, because you know they will not be the ones excluded regularly. Like most people, I would be happy to stand or share materials with someone else as long as I am not made to feel excluded by consistently being the one left out, I feel honored to help a friend who is organizing a group by accepting a shortage.
7. You can also often get around a shortage by coordinating. If you realize there aren’t enough information packets for everyone (and you should definitely have someone count before handing them out), ask for volunteers who can share a packet. Many people come to groups and events together, some dislike information packets and know they’ll just lose it anyway. You should have no trouble coming up with several people who sincerely don’t mind.
8. Places to sit at meals are specifically sensitive to the human psyche. It probably comes from some prehistoric evolutionary pressure in which those who were not given a place to sit at meals were less likely to survive. In any event, not having a place inside the circle at a common meal brings up intense fears for those who have been excluded in other social situations. If you find yourself in a situation where places at meals are insufficient or clearly unequal (with some outside or at makeshift places), consider one of these alternatives to combat social exclusion: A. stagger meal times and let people choose between lunch at 12 or 12:30, B. assign places based on specific physical needs (some people may need regular chairs due to mobility disabilities or small children, those with allergies or other disabilities may need to be ensured a place away from hazardous insects, as in my previous example), C. specifically mention to the group that there is a shortage and ask those who can take the possibly problematic alternative to do so automatically (ask that those who can easily sit on the ground do so at a picnic with an insufficient number of chairs or benches), D. assign seats and rotate them to encourage participants to get to know each other or E.  ask participants to ensure that they sit with different people at each meal, mentioning that meal times are one of the best times to get to know others and exchange ideas, as well as one of the keys to the inclusion that will make your group successful in its specific endeavors.
9. Hand out schedules and materials for your event, email them to participants and/or have them available for those that want them. It is amazing how many complex events, such as our week-long retreat with several workshops each day only post one copy of a printed schedule or have none. Certainly, plans will change, but the more your participants know about the schedule you are shooting for the more confident and included they will be. Information will always tend to flow more easily to those who know organizers personally and to those who have a lot of friends within a group. If schedules and plans are not circulated carefully, those who are already on the fringes will become truly excluded.
10. Announce schedules as well. Repeatedly. If there is no one time when everyone can be expected to be present, announce schedules and changes at various times, keeping in mind that not everyone is able to stay up late at night and some may miss the first morning announcement. Announce scheduling changes at various times of the day. Be aware that large portions of humanity have difficulty assimilating written information and other large portions have difficulty with oral information. Sometimes this is due to a specific disability, but often it is just learning style. Use both print and oral announcements to ensure a greater possibility that information will reach everyone. If a participants roll their eyes over repeated announcements, as them to ensure that those on the fringes get the information. Information is a large part of inclusion.  
11. Ask presenters to make handouts of what they plan to write on a board or flipchart or project as a PowerPoint presentation. Either distribute them or announce that they are available to those who need them, if you want to save paper. Don’t wait for participants to ask for help with this. Most people who truly need handouts won’t ask either out of a desire not to disrupt the work of the group or due to previous experiences with exclusion. There are a great many types of people (all those with visual impairments, those with reading disabilities and other sensory difficulties, those with small children or medical needs that may require them to leave a presentation for a moment and so forth) who will benefit greatly from having handouts of what may be displayed in front of the group. I have read posts by presenters who specifically say they don’t want to give hand-outs in order to ensure that participants have to give them full attention. So, you may run into some resistance from presenters. Simply mention that visually impaired people can’t see the front of the room and you are very likely to have visually impaired participants (as you are if your group is more than twenty people). Most people can understand this simple connection, even though many others will benefit.
12. Make every effort to make spaces and materials accessible to those with mobility and sensory disabilities. Effort counts here because clear effort toward accessibility sends a message of inclusion. I know many wheel-chair users who would feel excluded in a venue that had stairs at every entrance, even if they could theoretically get someone to carry them up and down. They would not be able to go outside on a short break with everyone else and they would have to undergo a public and often humiliating process to get access to the building. If you’re running an event for a public agency or large business with the resources to afford accessible venues, sign interpreters and Braille materials, you must ensure these things, regardless of local laws, or you can’t be considered an inclusive organization.
13. However, if your organization is small or your event is ad hoc real inclusion can be achieved with handmade ramps and volunteer readers along with other creative ideas. Even if the solutions may not be perfect, the point of accessibility is inclusion. Effort is paramount because 90 percent of inclusion is about social relationships, rather than physical barriers.
14. I propose a rule for introductions and helping participants get to know each other. Always make formal introductions if A. your group is smaller than 20 people and the event or meeting will go for more than an hour, or B. your group is smaller than 50 people and the event or meeting will go for at least one day.
15. If your event goes for more than one day, it is highly recommended that you use some sort of a game or ice breaker activity to help people get to know a few others in the group (ideally those they don’t already know). This can be done in even very big groups, although the goal in a large group is not to introduce everyone to everyone else, but to allow people to meet a few others and have some meaningful exchange.
16. Repeat introductions on the second day of a multi-day event with more than ten people are also a very helpful. Use humor or use the opportunity to help yourself or other organizers remember names. Go around a circle and call out names again. This not only makes people feel included and recognized, it helps the organizers to know names AND it helps participants memorize names as well. Using another person’s name in conversation is a well-recognized key social skill that means the difference between connection and the lack thereof. If you want your participants to be included and to form meaningful connections and thus do good work, your goal should be to increase the likelihood that most of them will know each other’s names.
17. That reminds me. Use humor, not only about forgetting people’s names. Use humor about lots of things involved in inclusion. When integrating the vocabulary of inclusion into your materials and introductory remarks, use humor to indicate that you know these things can sound like empty phrases and to prove that you value them at the core.
18. If you must use name tags (which I have to admit are probably helpful to a lot of people even if they are the bane of every blind person’s existence), you might joke about your own difficulties with name tags in order to point out to the group that some people can’t see name tags at all. That is often all it takes, a minor mention, and people will be more aware and less likely to exclude those who can’t read the name tags for whatever reason. Humor can be used in many ways to both lighten an atmosphere and to remind people of truths they already know and might otherwise be offended at being reminded of, even though they actually do often need reminders when it comes to inclusive group dynamics.
19. You may feel that some of these tips don't apply to high-level professional, technical or financial meetings. Of course you have schedules and your presenters don't need to copy things for everyone. Disabled people, non-native English speakers or people with family obligations don't work in your field anyway. Consider the fact that this may be precisely why people with specific differences don't work in your field. By assuming everyone can navigate these issues without being connected to the group, you severely limit the pool of talent you can work with. I have intentionally limited these points primarily to things that take little extra time and only a bit of specific attention. This is not about making cumbersome or expensive changes. It is primarily about reaching your group goals. When all is told, well over half the population falls into some category that can be inadvertently excluded. And these talents can be activated with minor changes that promote inclusion. 
20. Finally, expect mistakes and shortcomings. No organization is perfect and leaders can do a lot to help a group become more inclusive, but they cannot force it entirely. Accept that sometimes exclusion will happen anyway and be on the lookout for it. When I was excluded at my mountain retreat, the exclusion didn’t end just because organizers took note and took some hasty steps to try to mitigate the problem. But it did improve, and more importantly, I became included by the mere act of openly addressing the issue. Don’t be discouraged by the impossibility of perfect inclusion. This is one area where the old A for effort you may have sneered at in elementary school is actually a well earned and perfectly honorable accolade. 

Inclusive group dynamics is a hot topic in business and public administration in some countries and the skills to lead a group in this direction are in demand. I hope I can use experience to help leaders develop ways to make events and organizations more inclusive. 

I’m sure my list of tips isn’t comprehensive or universal. There are probably plenty of things I missed. Please feel free to add to the discussion with your own ideas and tips to help others. Post ideas and questions in the comments below. Many thanks for reading and discussing!

I developed these tips as a volunteer because I care about people. It's my way of giving back for all the good things in life. My job is writing though. Here is what puts dinner on the table: my dystopian thriller The Soul and the Seed, which tackles social exclusion in a dark alternative reality that reflects uncannily on our world.  It relevant to the topic at hand but mostly it's a story you won't want to put down.

Fighting climate change: Exhaustion versus necessity

My husband lies on the couch—barely able to move, fighting a wracking cough.

“For three weeks, I asked you to buy or cut some stakes. It would have taken only five minutes! I know you’re tired, but sometimes you have to do things anyway. Now the tomato plants are ruined and broken. The trellis I built with scraps collapsed. You couldn’t be bothered to help when it was possible to save the crop, even when I had put months of work into the garden and I was only asking you for five minutes!”  

As we struggle against climate change the effects are making that farming and everything else harder - Creative Commons image by Kevin Dooley

I stand over him--furious, drenched with sweat and shaking from an hour's hard effort trying to save what I could of our once beautiful tomato crop. 

I’m legally blind. I can handle most things in the garden, but I never learned to cut poles with an ax and I can’t drive to the lumber store. So, I had asked and pleaded and warned him for weeks. I could see that my fragile tomato trellis wouldn’t hold up.

That’s right. I’m fighting with my exhausted husband over tomatoes. Homegrown, organic tomatoes.

We live in a country where organic tomatoes are far beyond the means of the average family. They are only for the wealthy. I had hoped, planned, schemed and sweated to beat the odds and make them available to us from our own garden.

But I’m not really just fighting about tomatoes. Gardening is part of our commitment to living in an environmentally sustainable way. It’s not just about tomatoes, organic or otherwise. It’s about fighting climate change, the threat that hangs over us like an ominous cloud—heralded by increasingly unbalanced weather, unmanageable plagues of garden pests and waves of refugees from the south on the news every day.

Lake Hume at 4 percent - Creative Commons image by Tim J Keegan

“I’m exhausted.” My husband’s voice is anguished. He coughs again, doubling up. “Every day. I’m just living from day to day, barely making it.” 

Don’t I know it? I don’t rest between 6:00 am and 11:00 pm, almost never stop moving unless my hands are going at 70 words per minute on a keyboard. And I feel guilty about those few hours, because I’m doing something I love—writing part of each day, rather than only doing the grueling parts. 

I sit down and take my husband’s head on my lap. “I know. I’m sorry. I know how tired you are.”  

I feel guilty because my herbalist skills have not been able to keep his chronic cough at bay this year, after six years of relative success. Is that part of the worsening environmental conditions too?

Fear seeps in around me. I am utterly exhausted myself. I’m trying so hard to live in an environmentally sustainable way and it's a lot of work. 

The scale of the forces fighting over the future - Creative Commons image by Kevin Dooley

We don’t own a TV. We grow a lot of our own food now. We don’t use a clothes drier except in the very middle of the winter when nothing will dry outside at all. Our house is extraordinarily well insulated. We use only small amounts of energy to heat. Solar panels would be relatively ineffective on our north-facing slope, but we’re saving for them anyway. Our light bulbs are the low-energy kind, even though they make it even harder for me to see at night with my low vision. I obviously don’t drive. My husband does, but he often takes the train to work, even though it means a 30 extra minutes of commute time. We all own good bikes and use them when we can. The kids and I get around on foot, by bike and by train. 

Okay, I fly. Once every two years usually. To see my family across the Atlantic. I know it’s a big one. And it’s hard to give up. 

Would I stop flying if I knew it would make the difference? Sure, I would.

The problem is that it wouldn’t.

If I as an individual never saw my family again to skimp on my carbon footprint, it would make no difference in the number of flights crossing the ocean. I would suffer the loss of my parents, brothers, nieces and nephews. My children would lose grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins. For nothing. That’s the hard part. 

The hard facts

There are facts about climate change that we can’t avoid. Most of these are so basic that they’re documented in a wide variety of sources, but I’ll list a few good links at the end, in case anyone wants to check me. 

Even so, I’m not really writing for climate skeptics. I’m writing for people like me, those who are already very concerned about climate change. The facts aren’t really controversial. It’s what we’re supposed to do about them that is problematic:

Mongolians trying to farm amid extreme weather - Creative Commons image by Asia Development Bank

• Unprecedented swift climate change is happening.
• It is caused by human activities, primarily CO2 emissions from burning fossil fuel. Almost all scientists agree on this. Those that don’t are invariably linked to the oil industry and others who don’t want to admit the truth because reducing emissions would negatively impact their business.. 
• If we don’t drastically reduce our greenhouse emissions across the board, the temperature of the earth will rise by 4 to 5 degrees by 2100.
• That may not sound bad. But it would in fact mean huge food shortages, mass starvation. Vast areas near the equator which now have high populations would become uninhabitable, we would lose many more species, and sea level rise would wipe out the Netherlands, much of Vietnam, 316 coastal American cities, island countries and many many other places 
• Even if you live in a relatively cold and high elevation area like I do, logically you have to know that life will not be good if this happens. Even if Central Europe or Canada somehow avoids direct devastation and famine, we will be beset from all sides by seas of desperate refugees, starving and landless. Our economies will not be able to absorb them and if we don’t give them relief, we will be the targets of war and terrorism.
• The lifestyles we are living now will not continue for more than a few decades, no matter what we do.  Either we change or we will be changed.
• There are things you can do to reduce your personal impact on climate change. Most of those things are difficult, time-consuming and/or expensive. Doing all of them on a shoestring budget leads to the exhaustion my family is experiencing.
• Unless most of humanity joins you in doing these things, it won’t matter.
• It is physically POSSIBLE for humans to change course and only end up with a 2 degree rise in temperature by 2100, but even that rise would cause significant suffering and hunger for our grandchildren. And such a change of course would require a reduction of CO2 emissions of around six percent every year for fifty years. 
• It’s theoretically possible but sociologically extremely unlikely. No country has started to significantly reduce CO2 emissions on the levels needed and mitigation of this disaster would require intense and well-coordinated change by all or almost all major producers of CO2 emissions sustained over decades.
• No one anywhere has yet achieved a 6 percent reduction of CO2 emissions in a year, let alone continued to reduce by that amount year after year.  
• Scientists routinely present unrealistically rosy scenarios of what we can achieve with climate change mitigation because that’s what they are commissioned to do. It is very hard to motivate people through despair and voters will not vote for politicians who talk about despair, even if they know it is true.
• Corporations protecting their profits and politicians banking on the next election keep climate change out of mainstream discussion, even as national and international agencies mark it as the worst defense threat--worse than terrorism or nuclear war. 
• Environmental organizations usually advise individuals to do the following things to reduce their personal contribution to climate change:

Families Facing Climate Change demonstration in Melbourne, Australia - Creative Commons image by Takver of Flickr

1. Walk, take public transportation or at least carpool, 
2. Use energy efficient light bulbs,
3. Rebuild your residence to have better insulation,
4. Never use clothes driers. Hang your clothes out to dry.
5. Grow a lot of your own food.
6. Buy organic if you can’t grow your own.
7. Eat less meat.
8. Recycle everything.
9. Only buy things with minimal packaging.
10. Choose energy plans that use more renewable sources.
11. Never fly on an airplane.
12. Write and call your political representatives to ask them for regulations requiring polluters to pay for their emissions.
13. Vote for politicians who champion renewable energy.
14. Donate to environmental organizations (usually including a link for donations to whichever organization issued the list).

• All those are good things to do and I do most of them… well, all except the never flying on an airplane.
• But if you do all or most of those things, as many of us do, you will be exhausted and burned out and have little time or energy left for activism beyond the basic letter writing, voting and donating variety. Maybe there are ways for wealthy people to pay for some of these things to decrease the personal burden but for most of us, the physical challenge is huge.
• And if only a small percent of us continue to do these things, our exhaustion won’t change much.

Past exhaustion

My husband sits up and rubs his eyes. 

“I’ve been thinking about the slug problem,” he says. “I think it’s time we got some ducks. And we might as well get chickens while we’re at it.” 

I stare at him. He is still exhausted, his shoulders slumped, his face lined. But he’s serious. We've talked about chickens for years, but always found the prospect a bit too daunting. Now we don’t just have slugs. We have a blanket of slugs. He used to go out at night and collect buckets full of them, until so many came that collecting made no discernible difference. And I can’t do much to help him collect slugs when I can’t see them.

“Is growing food still a priority for you?” I ask tentatively, trying not to look pointedly at his envelope from Greenpeace lying on the cabinet next to him. He is so unassuming that for the first year, he didn’t even tell me he was sending money to Greenpeace out of his meager paycheck.

“Frankly, if I had my choice, we wouldn't have a garden. I don’t really like gardening,” he says. 
He grew up on a farm but he was never an enthusiastic farm boy. He has no illusions about it being easy or romantic. I grew up with subsistence farming too, so we make a reasonably good team. 

I don’t know what to say. He goes through these ups and downs of despair and forced hope. 

“Would you do some research on keeping ducks and chickens in the same coop?” he asks. “Oh, and find me some sketches so I can build it. There’s no way we’ll get the money together to buy something.” 

I kiss him. Of course, I’ll do the research. Dyslexia makes that job grueling to him, just as I’ve never been very good with an electric saw or a screw gun. 

We keep trying at this. Banking on our strengths. Finding ways around our weaknesses.

Let them eat carbon protest - Creative Commons image by Oxfam International

Here’s the thing. It isn’t easy. It’s in fact very hard. We keep on. We aren’t hippies or off-the-gridders. We aren’t young and physically strong. We’re actually weakening as we get older. But we’re informed and unwilling to pretend we don’t know. It’s exhausting. We are trying and what we are doing still isn’t nearly enough. 

We have two small children and every day we face the silent question. We can't afford to give up. There will come a day when the next generation will ask if we knew about climate change in 2015 and if we knew what we did about it. 

I'm writing for people who are already concerned, primarily because people who aren't worried about climate change aren't likely to read my blog. But for those of us who are worried, the biggest question is how we can convince our neighbors, political leaders and companies to drop everything and focus on fighting climate change? Leave a ideas in the comments please.

A few sources:

• An excellent summary of facts and realistic strategies by George Marshall, founder of Climate Outreach and Information Network in Yes Magazine 
• Standard advice on mitigating climate change from the David Suzuki Foundation: 
• A comprehensive Vox article on the real science behind emissions targets and how scientists are pressured to present rosy scenarios: 
• A study and analysis by Climate Central that shows US cities threatened by rising seas: 

Confessions of prejudice: Getting educated can be a shock

It's socially dangerous to admit to having once held an unfair prejudice. Nonetheless I'm about to do just that... publicly. And, no, this isn't one of those things where I turn this around to make me look good. I had a bad prejudice. Bad at least among people I respect. 

I want to do this for several reasons:

• I have a friend who has courage and I want to measure up,
• It's one of those things, I think we individually owe the universe,
• It's possible that if I speak up, I may take some of the flack that others might unfairly face,
• I want people like me to know that prejudice is a something to change, not a reason for shame,
• And the story itself is prejudice-busting.

I have met with fairly extreme reactions in the past when I have named a certain attitude as "prejudiced." So, let's be clear. I'm talking about these two definitions from dictionary.com:

Prejudice (noun): 1. an unfavorable opinion or feeling formed beforehand or without knowledge, thought, or reason. 2. any preconceived opinion or feeling, either favorable or unfavorable.

The easy way to keep this in mind is to remember that "prejudice" is "pre-judgement." 

So, here is my story...

Creative Commons image by Zuerichs Strassen of Flickr

I grew up very rural and mostly without a TV. That's not really an excuse because many people who live in cities and watch TV make the same assumptions. I'm just saying. I was a bit provincial. But I was brought up to be pro-civil-rights. My mother was the only white student made an honorary member of her university's Black Students Association back in the 1960's and we had diverse friends. I was taught to be open-minded about other people's appearances and abilities. I was born legally blind after all. 

And yet in my twenties I was a bit uncomfortable around gay and lesbian friends. Not very. Just slightly.

I had nothing against their private life, but the few times the subject of sexuality came up with them there was a combative atmosphere to the conversation and I lacked the sense of shared experience that I have with gay and lesbian friends today. Sex is part of life. It's fine to talk about what you like. It is no big deal that a gay friend and I agree on which men look hot (even if I'm married). But back then it was taboo. And that made it hard for a provincial young woman to get used to.

I got more used to it after I ended up with a no-nonsense lesbian roommate, who was instrumental in matchmaking my marriage. But she was tougher than most and tended to bury her own vulnerabilities in order to help those less educated than herself. 

Where I was truly prejudiced was in another area. I had only ever seen reference to transgender people on TV and almost all of the images were fairly flamboyant--men dressed unrealistically as women, being very loud and talking of nothing else but their desire for a "sex change." I certainly wasn't going to say anything out loud, but I secretly felt sorry for my lesbian and gay friends. It seemed like a shame that these "normal people" were being lumped together in the term LGBT with people who, in my view, seemed to be simply seeking attention and trying to be as racy as possible. 

Some years later, I was struggling with infertility and desperately wishing for friends who could really understand that painful road. I had one set of close friends who were rumored to be headed for IVF as well, but they refused to talk about it. I felt lonely and rejected, even though I knew how painful the subject could be. 

I'd known this couple for five intense years. The husband and I had been working together daily on a project for several years and I thought that if anyone would ever understand our struggle with infertility he would. 

When he finally did open up on the topic, I was in for a surprise. The reason he hadn't wanted to discuss it before was that he was transgender, having gone through the transition as a young adult. Knowing how much prejudice and stereotypes people often harbor about the issue, he kept it quiet. It's obviously a very private thing and in his case the only truly serious ongoing complication was the question of having children. 

I have rarely ever been so wrong about my guesses as to what was going on with a friend's silence. And it was telling to me that I could know a person for five years, work with him daily and never have any inkling of such a thing. I may be as likely to be taken in by prejudice as the next person, but I'm not a complete idiot. I realized immediately that this was definitive proof of the complete normalcy of transgender medical issues. 

In my friend's case it was almost entirely a past event. He isn't an "ordinary guy" because he's too awesome to be ordinary. But he fits no stereotypes and appears very comfortable with his life.

This revelation was one of a string of things that taught me an even deeper lesson than the simple banishment of a particular prejudice. It taught me to look at and recognize my prejudices, to question them and continue to grow in understanding. I am slower to jump to those silent judgments that people make when watching others. 

What's the greatest change of thinking you've undergone? Have you ever had to confront your own prejudice or seen that you were wrong in a judgment about people? I love your comments on these posts. Drop a line below and keep in touch!

Ridicule at your own risk: Do you really want to decide who "deserves" to be called fat?

The newlyweds went on a honeymoon to an island. They posted glowing photos on Facebook--enormous smiles, silly t-shirts, beaches, big hats. The sister of the bride woke up in the morning and the first photo she noticed showed her sister wearing a t-shirt with a cartoon character on the belly and her grinning husband was pointing at her slightly plump abdomen. 

Delighted and amazed, the sister typed, "Congratulations! I can't wait to be an aunt!" Within hours the Facebook wall was flooded with good wishes and congratulation for the soon-to-be parents. All was joyful...

Except that the bride was not pregnant.

What followed was the utter humiliation of the sister who started it all. She was terribly embarrassed. The couple had to post notes stating that they were not pregnant. The bride cried at length because the notion that she was " fat"  had been broadcast to all their friends and family. It didn't make for a nice honeymoon. 

Okay, it happens. Some women carry all their extra weight on their tummies. I do. I'm not very fat in conventional terms, although I'm no feather either. I carry almost everything on my belly and I've run into people who wrongly assumed I was pregnant, so I can see how this could happen. The sister in this anecdote was telling the story as her "most embarrassing moment,"  and she didn't mean to be hurtful. She ended with her concern about how the incident had truly harmed her relationship with her sister. 

But the reactions of those reading the story were shocking.

Most comments agreed with or paraphrased this one: "You shouldn't be embarrassed. Your sister deserved to be called fat if she gained weight. It's her own fault." (There was no picture included, so the people commenting had no way of knowing what the bride actually looked like. They were simply assuming she "deserved"  to be called fat.)

As I read the long list of comments, my chagrined laughter over the well-written anecdote of apology and personal responsibility quickly switched to a state that could best be summed up by one of those cartoon images where smoke starts puffing out of someone's ears. Most, but not all, of those comments were by men. Many implied that it's a woman's responsibility to have a flat stomach. 

Sure, partly it's the anonymity of the internet. People will write more overtly rude and cruel things online than they'll say in person. They don't think about the fact that this sister was partly trying to make amends and that the bride in question might well see their comments someday. They don't think... and they don't much care either.

But just because the comments are on the internet, doesn't make them less problematic. They are in fact a truer indication of people's thoughts and beliefs about others than the polite smiles of society. I often turn to internet forums to understand how people truly think. 

And I find it disturbing that most of the people commenting felt that a woman deserves to be publicly humiliated in front of her family and friends (even by accident) because her stomach is rounded. 

I'll lay out the issues:

1. We're all concerned about obesity. It's a serious health risk and spreading dangerously. Its worrying how many children aren't given the opportunity to grow up with healthy bodies, due to poor diet and lack of exercise. I'm all for educating people about the health risks of obesity and what can realistically be done about it in ways that don't shame or ridicule.
2. There are many reasons for the rise of obesity in recent years--cheap food is almost always the unhealthy, packaged and obesity-causing food; urbanization gives people less access to the space for natural exercise; the rise of eating disorders and depression, as well as childhood trauma, are linked to obesity; animal growth hormones in food are likely to cause humans to gain weight as well even though scientific research on it has been vehemently suppressed by industry; and the increase in passive entertainment such as TV and video games plays a role. Certainly, we can control some of these impacts in our lives but not all. It takes significant effort and money to ensure that your food doesn't contain growth hormones and poor people don't stand a chance. The idea that obesity is primarily about a lack of effort and self-discipline has been scientifically discredited.
3. Many people struggle with self-discipline. I may be pretty good at setting my own work schedule and sticking to it. But I do better when exercise is part of my life (like walking everywhere instead of driving) or part of a sport (like Aikido). I can control what I eat pretty well, but I've been known to have emotional outbursts. (I'm sure that's hard to imagine. ;) ) So, I have some sympathy for those who struggle with self-discipline. It isn't a shameful thing. It's a struggle based on in-born temperament and brain chemistry. We do not all start on equal footing here.
4. Anyone who believes that we all get the same hand from genetics in terms of our body shape hasn't been paying attention to real life. Yes, if you have lots of time on your hands, you can almost always make a significant difference. It may take intense exercise and rigorous diet restriction, but most people can lose weight. For some it has to be a major focus of their life, the equivalent to a primary hobby, while for others it's a matter of a little regular effort. This is not a competition on a level field where those with motivation and discipline naturally win slim body shapes. 
5. Most women gain body weight after the age of 25. It is part of our hormonal and biochemical makeup. I have traveled in places where people lived by subsistence farming and the standard diet would not sustain a person of my size. The people in such places usually don't grow to great height. But their middle-aged women are still mostly stocky, as well as incredibly tough. 
6. I have met people of all ages and genders who can eat anything and not exercise at all and remain slim and slender. I have met plenty who can achieve a slighter shape by regular exercise and dieting. And I have met others who will always be solidly built, unless they are literally starved to the point of ill health. Just as with a disability, you cannot tell by looking at a person, if they are naturally built to be stocky and plump or if they are unhealthily overweight. A doctor may be able to after a thorough examination, but you certainly can't tell from a photo online. 
7. In today's society it's exceedingly difficult for poor people to get the time to do regular exercise or cook from scratch (which is the only way to eat healthy on a budget) or the extra money to buy the foods that truly contribute to good health. You can't tell by looking at someone from the outside what challenges they are facing and negative commenting is more likely to be unjustified and hurtful than not.
8. Fashion models and TV actors have a lot of influence on what  we consider to be "normal" today. And most of those models are starving themselves to a medically unhealthy degree. And then their agencies are trimming them further with Photoshop. The effect is that what we see in magazines and on TV are unhealthy, fantasy images of women. And yet that is what our eyes have been trained to see as "normal." 
9. Broadcast television only arrived on the island of Nadroga, Fiji in 1995. At the time anorexia and other eating disorders were completely absent. By 1998, ninety-seven percent of the population watched some TV and 11 percent of teenage girls were anorexic and had unhealthy eating habits that didn't exist before. The unhealthy images of models do impact us.
10. Even assuming that you are concerned about someone's health because they are overweight, it is worth  considering that research has found shaming to be extraordinarily ineffective in changing human behavior. Calling someone "fat" or otherwise ridiculing body shape is often excused by those who claim that they are only trying to help people become healthier. I don't actually believe that's the true motivation but even if it was, this bullying is misguided.

A Nepali woman who can best all the skinny models for eating lean, exercising and living healthy - Creative Commons image by PACAF of Flickr

I look around at my friends, most of whom were slim as young adults and teens. Now we're pushing forty and we're all different shapes. A few have health problems related to weight. A few are slim but almost all of those actually have lifestyles with less exercise and more unhealthy food than mine. Most of us are a bit chunky. Of those I know who are careful of their weight and spend a lot of time and energy on it about half show little slimming even so. 

Among the older women of my childhood, I notice that many share a similar barrel-like shape. There is the one who has been a volunteer wildland firefigther for 30 years while raising foster and adoptive kids in the mountains, there is the one who is a rancher out working physically every day and the one who cycles all over the world. I have huge respect for these women, the role-models of my life. They have shown clearly how women have value beyond the age of twenty-five and how women's shapes are truly varied. 

When I hear comments calling women who look like these hard-working heroines "fat," I'm not just disgusted, I'm furious. There's just one thing I want to say before I shut down such a conversation: "One of those tough women of the mountains is worth more than a thousand shallow bullies!"

And yet I have to remember that the writer of the story that started it all also made an insensitive comment--unintentional but nonetheless hurtful. We can all make mistakes and be embarrassed by our own hurtful words. She was admirable for the way she took responsibility and made amends.

In the end obesity is still a concern for me, but I personally don't want to decide who "deserves" to be called "fat." I know I don't have enough of the facts from just looking. If someone thinks they do know and they are qualified to call names, I say, "ridicule at your own risk," because many of those who gather at my hearth can be ferocious when roused.

I love your comments on these posts. Add your own story from real life. Feel free to disagree. How should people react to comments about their body shape? Share this article using the icon below and help spread a valuable discussion.

The bottom line: I don't care what she said, you don't shove... or pull guns

I can picture the scene in McKinney pretty well. The organizers promote a party on the internet. More people show up than they expect. They didn't think parts of it through, like whether or not they could invite a bunch of kids, some of whom they didn't know personally, to their gated community pool. It happens. If you've ever organized an event for more than twenty people, you know how easily things can  get misinterpreted. 

Swimming - Creative Commons image by Cal Sr

Then when neighbors get upset with the loud music and too many "guests" in the private pool, the teenagers get mouthy. I've seen it with crowds of teenagers in a dozen countries. They don't want to leave. They assume that something with fliers and on-line promotion is "official" so they have the right to be there. They came all that way. They demand their right to have what was advertised.

And crowds are hard to disperse whether you're the somewhat disorganized organizer or the police, especially when no one has a ride home yet.

Now the residents of the area are upset because the media and activists have turned it into a racial issue, because a lot of the kids who showed up for this advertised party were black and the police who came in response to calls from white neighbors were also white. And they contend that a lot of the residents there are also black, so it isn't a race issue. They just have rules about guests flooding their private pool for a public event. 

I'm an ocean away and I wasn't there, so I'm not in the business of judging what I  didn't see. But how the party was organized or why the kids were there is really not the issue.

I'm sorry about highlighting the white witness here, but white people sometimes need to hear white witnesses explain to them that racism really does exist and he says it well.  -  Teenager who shot McKinney pool party video speaks out 

There is one thing I can see. I can see the video made by a fifteen year old without an ulterior motive, a kid who was obviously a bit confused and then increasingly concerned by the reaction of a police officer. I can't hear who yelled what very well, but I can see well enough what happened and so can everyone else. 

People all over the world can see.

And we don't care what she yelled or who said what. She was fourteen and the police officer was an adult. And you don't shove a person to the ground and use a girl's hair for a handle and put her face in the dirt over words, any words. 

Sometimes I have to explain about things in America because I'm an American living in another country. It's expected. I know that although there is violence in America and police are too ready to fire their guns and especially ready if they're facing a black person, most American police officers are not out-of-control or insane and many of them are black. I've held conversations with people in Europe about this and said, "Yes, there is racism in our society and it affects the police but not all white Americans are overtly racist and not all the cops are murderers." 

But what do I say now? The police officer in the video is clearly panicked, running from one side to another, shouting orders to random groups of kids who are walking around not threatening anyone, just looking confused and trying to figure out how to get a ride home.

Was there something violent that happened before that freaked him out? According to another video, there was a scratching, slapping fight between a woman and some teenage girls. But that's all. Why is this police officer so flustered? I have yet to see any reasonable reason reported. There was a restless crowd yes. Some of them may have yelled at him. But they were children, not even older teens for the most part. You expect me to believe that the police officer was that afraid of children, so afraid that he had to yank them by their arms, shove them down, use a girl's hair as a handle to force her head down and then pull a gun?

You can say this was just a cop with a mean, aggressive personality, but it didn't look that way. He didn't look like he was just abnormally aggressive. In the video he looks confused, irritated, panicked and frustrated that his orders are not being followed. Did he receive no training for dealing with a situation like this? Wait. No, as it turns out, he was the trainer, the senior officer in charge of new guys. 

How could he not know that the first duty of a police officer is like that of a doctor. First, do not make the situation worse. 

I'm sure there are plenty of rants out there on the internet about how bad cops are. This isn't one of them. I have seen police who lived and worked by the principle of mitigating harm and keeping the peace. I organized antiwar demonstrations in a major European city for a couple of years. We never had a riot or property damage or anything that made the international news, but there was the occasional tense incident. 

I remember one in particular. It was one of the first big demonstrations, thousands of people, crammed into narrow, echoing medieval streets. We only had megaphones, no sound system. there was no question that we were going to really do crowd control. The best we as organizers could do was stay ahead of the crowd and gently guide it in the right direction. 

Emotions were running high. The war in Iraq had just begun and European public opinion was aggravated by the policies of George W. Bush. And a fourth to a third of the demonstrators were Arabs, often very emotional Middle Eastern students. Riots had broken out in some cities. The police had reason to worry.

We arrived at the US Embassy to deliver our petition for peace and found that instead of the usual line of relatively friendly looking cops, we were facing a phalanx of riot police with shields and tasers, and no doubt, tear gas. The street was blocked with a barricade some distance before the Embassy. I definitely felt a bit nervous walking up to that in the front line of the march. I couldn't see it with my bad eyesight but others could see US Marines standing in the windows of the Embassy with guns.

Once we got the crowd stopped, we were negotiating with the police to let one of our organizers through the barricade, so that he could personally deliver our signed petition to the Embassy. A police officer asked him to take his backpack off and just as he was putting it down there was a deafening "bang!"  It must have been a cherry-bomb-type firecracker, the type that could blind you if it went off in your face.

I was sure that things were about to go to pieces. I ducked down against the police barricade, hoping against hope that when the police charged they'd just somehow go over me. There were screams and yells of anger from the crowd. But the police didn't come. 

Instead I heard a firm, loud voice of command moving down the line of police. "Everyone okay? Everyone okay?"  The police commander was checking with every section of the line to make sure no one had been hurt by the explosion.

Slowly I stood up and looked back at the police. They hadn't moved. 

I learned to respect the local police that day. They had trained to control their reflexes and not to panic in the face of a emotive and angry crowd. Over the next couple of years I was involved with several negotiations between them and demonstrators and we were always able to work things out. Not every city is that lucky. 

And what happened in McKinney isn't unique. It is only in the news because a fifteen-year-old shot a video of it. Things like that happen all the time - worse things, incidents where people end up hurt or dead. And we usually only hear about it when it is so well-documented that there is no way to escape the truth. 

I am not against police officers. I have deep respect for the job. I'm an activist but I don't believe that "the man"  is all bad and we don't need any law enforcement. All you need to do to see how bullies and mobsters rule when there are no police is to look at the international scene where the one with the biggest military calls the shots. 

But that does not mean that the police should become just another bully with a bigger stick and a readier gun. Just because someone wears the badge does not mean they are in any way outside either the law or basic ethics. 

If I've told my kids once, I've told them a thousand times.  I don't care what your sister said. I don't care if your brother spit at you. You don't shove. You don't yank hair. That's not okay. If you do it is the job of the police to come and stop you and put you in time-out. The police in your case being Mama. And Mama will be firm, but Mama won't swing you by your arm or use your hair as a handle to force your head down or scream profanity at you or bring out the big guns. Because the job of police (and of Mamas) is to mitigate strife and protect and to not make things worse.

The original video of the incident in McKinney: Worth watching if you haven't seen it.

As far as McKinney goes, I've heard the various accounts of the context. But just as when my kids squabble, context only matters so much.

Here's the bottom line. There's a fourteen-year-old girl and there's an armed adult. The adult has no reason to be afraid. She was not a threat. The guys who approached the police officer were not a threat. Drawing his gun was an escalation. It made things worse... much much worse than a crowd of young teens ever needs to be.

As to the racial tension inherent in the situation. How can that possible NOT come up? You have a white police officer attacking a black girl in a bathing suit, clearly treating her as a violent threat. He had just told a dozen or more black kids to sit down and ignored the white kid. Sure, the crowd was unhappy and milling in chaos. But no one with a day of crowd control training should expect any less. The kids weren't armed, and yet the police officer was panicked. 

And that is where it seems racial. 

The mayor and police chief of McKinney, Texas commented on Cpl. Eric Casebolt's resignation, calling his actions "out of control", referring to Casebolt throwing a teen girl on the ground during a pool party incident.

How might that officer might have acted if faced with a crowd of white seventh, eighth and ninth graders who were confused because they showed up for a party and it turned out to be a problem and they don't have a ride home right now?

I am pretty sure what he would have done. He would have asked them if they had phones to call their parents. He would have asked them in a concerned tone to move a bit away from whatever altercation was going on nearby, if there was one. I've seen officers do this in similar situations. 

But instead this officer panicked and went out of control. He didn't see those kids as reasonable or potentially in need of his protection and it's only chance that no one got shot. 

Such things are not made by just one bad, overly aggressive, poorly trained cop. It takes a society that views black teenagers as dangerous, hostile and potentially armed to do this. And in this case they were quite the opposite. Given the chaos, I'd say he was getting a fair amount of compliance. The kids close by sat down and did as he said. It was unclear what he was saying to those further away, but the fact is that legally you are not required to sit down or come hither when a police officer says so unless you are under arrest or there is a state of emergency. 

And so when European friends ask me about this I feel a sinking inside because I know this isn't just a bad cop. I know we've got problems far beyond that.

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Would you hire a blind babysitter?

I have the same nightmares other parents do. When my daughter was three, I had a nightmare about her running out in front of a truck at night with her purple coat on and being hit. I got rid of that coat and I was paranoid about her being near roads after dark for at least a year after that. 

But I have a special nightmares too--those involving newspaper headlines. And that's not because I've been a journalist (except possibly because my brain knows all to well how the media works). My nightmare headlines say things like:  "Child drowns in river while blind mother is oblivious" or "Community shocked to learn mother of hit-and-run victim couldn't see the car coming."

Because there are a few facts are simply unavoidable:

1. A few children will die or be horribly injured in tragic accidents ever year.
2. Some of these accidents are due to parental neglect. Many are not. Helicopter parents are not all that much less likely to lose their child to a terrible accident. 
3. Most people, including most journalists, wouldn't think a blind person could safely keep track of a toddler.
4. I'm legally blind and I have two young children.

On number 3, I know this because blind parents who go out in public with a white cane and small children all get asked the same questions over and over again, such as "Why did you get pregnant and risk passing that on to your child?" and then "Aren't you afraid they'll get hurt if you aren't looking?" I've been on the receiving end of those questions and I know plenty of other visually impaired parents who've heard them too.

That's why I have extra nightmares. The irony is that I am not really worried that my vision impairment could specifically cause me to miss preventing an accident.

Here is just one example of why I think my kids are just as safe (and as unsafe) as any others:

When our daughter was two and a half, we adopted our second child. He was ten months old and he was extremely emotionally needy due to experiences in a not-particularly-progressive orphanage. As a result, our daughter became a bit more independent. 

A few weeks after we brought our son home, we went to a park by a river for a picnic. It was early in the day and there was no one else there. Our daughter was playing by a tributary stream, throwing pebbles into the water; my husband was reading a book; and I was changing the baby's diaper under a shade tree. I mentioned to my husband that he really needed to watch our daughter if she was going to play close to the river and he assured me that he could see her while he read. I don't have a real concrete idea of how fully sighted eyes work, so I accepted this, though I've since been told it isn't really possible. 

I remember looking up and catching a glimpse of the blur of my daughter's white shirt near the stream a few times. I can't see much beyond about ten feet, but I can pick out bright contrasts of color. Still, I was nervous. I didn't know why at the time, though I have since realized that I was subconsciously uneasy because the noise of the river made it so that I couldn't hear what my daughter was doing, which is how I normally keep track of her.

Once I looked up and didn't see her white shirt by the stream. I looked around and saw the splotch of white on the other side of me, about twenty feet away, near the steep river bank. My husband was facing that way though and I thought he was watching, so I went back to changing the diaper.

She ran back and forth between the stream and the river several times. There were bushes and trees around as well. If I had looked up and not seen her, I wouldn't have panicked. My husband later said he felt the same way, except that he wasn't on edge at all. He was reading his book and casually glancing up and down from it to keep track of our daughter's whereabouts. 

When I had  finished with the diapering process, I started  putting stuff back into our backpack. I happened to be looking up, watching our daughter by the river in a relaxed, summertime way.

And then she disappeared. 

It was silent. Or at least I couldn't hear a sound over the rush of the river. Not a splash. Not a scream. Not a peep. The splotch of her shirt was just there one second and then gone.

I leaped up, left the baby laying on the blanket and raced across the grass. Right by the  river, I could hear her flailing in the water. It was so cold that she couldn't scream. She had already been carried downstream a few feet by the strong current and was now hidden by bushes. I jumped into the river and had her in my arms in the space of three heartbeats. My husband was still putting down his book, looking dazed and alarmed, when I scrambled back to the bank. 

What did I learn from this experience:

1. Children can fall into a river much more quickly and unobtrusively than new parents usually think.
2. If children are by a river, an adult needs to be paying full attention at all times. 
3. If there is more than one adult, there needs to be a designated person to pay attention to children by water because relying on the idea that more adults will mean enough safety doesn't cut it.
4. Sighted people often take their ability to see where a child is for granted.
5. Being fully sighted isn't necessarily a great advantage in this situation.

We discussed this (at length) later. My husband agrees that if he had looked up and not seen our daughter by the river, he would have looked over by the stream. If he had still not seen her, he would have gotten up and gone to look behind the bushes by the stream. By the time, he determined that she wasn't there, at least 30 seconds would have passed and she would have been swept well downstream in the swiftly flowing river. She fell where she was immediately out of his line of sight, obscured by the bank and dense brush.

Parenting 101: We weren't close enough and neither of us was paying enough attention. It was only because I happened to be looking directly at her that disaster was averted. Overconfidence in one sense is dangerous.

I have learned a lot since then and I know many experienced parents (both sighted and blind) who know better than to make those mistakes in the first place. You don't have to be a helicopter parent to know that toddlers and swift water are a bad combination. 

Since then I have learned a lot about how blind parents do what they do as well. Under normal circumstances, I can hear very precisely what toy my children are playing with in the other room and what they're doing with it. They have asked me, when they got in trouble for messing with forbidden items, "Mama, how did you know?" For now, I just let them think Mama has eyes in the back of her head, because... these are trade secrets. 

But I also know what I can't see. If I'm with small children by a river without other adults, I will be physically right with the children. I won't be watching from a distance, if the water is noisy. This comes from experience of children and flowing water more than anything and my approach wouldn't be that different even if I was fully sighted. I know how easily accidents can happen.

A few years ago, a family member told me that I couldn't be safe watching small children because of my vision impairment. As it happened, a year later I was put in the situation of watching that relative's child plus my two children by a river alone for two hours. I had agreed to watch the three children by myself in that situation for only fifteen minutes. But the person who was supposed to arrive to help me, didn't show up for some time. And it turned into two hours.

That time, everything went fine, but I was still stressed out. I am reasonably confident that I can watch children by water, but three preschoolers on one adult (at a swimming hole where a child drowned the year before) isn't a great ratio in general. And this was made worse by the doubts some relatives had already expressed about my ability to watch children. I was uncomfortable with this situation because I knew that if a child slipped on a wet rock, I wouldn't be judged the way other parents are judged. I am inherently suspect.

That's where the nightmares about newspaper headlines come in. As much as I'm afraid of my children or other children I care for being hurt, I'm also nervous about the community wrath and lack of understanding that is likely to result if my child even suffers a common childhood injury.

In the light of the neon fact that I'm legally blind, some other facts that might well be overlooked. Those are:

1. My children have never broken a bone or been to the Emergency Room... yet. (Lucky dog. Could happen, just hasn't yet.)
2. My concerned relative's child has... both things, several times. (Not an extremely risky lifestyle. It just happens, but no one ascribes any special meaning to it because this parent has no disability.)
3. I taught preschool-aged children for ten years and never had a safety problem.
4. I've pulled a silently drowning child out of a swimming pool twice when no one happened to be looking. The first time I did it, I was twelve. (And, yes, I was legally blind then too.)
5. I am as careful or more careful than other parents when it comes to dangers like water and traffic without restricting children's play.

 It's never fun to know that you might be judged more harshly than others if you make a mistake. Granted, sometimes that's just life. But this prejudice raises other issues as well. Many parents won't let their children come to my house for a playdate. Might that be because they are nervous about the same things? What happens if someone brings up these kinds of issues in a custody hearing? What if a legally blind person wants to work as a preschool teacher?

I've discussed these issues with skeptical parents a lot, and it has often come down to a deceivingly simple question:

Would you hire a legally blind babysitter?

Believe it or not, I worked as a babysitter as a teenager. I'm not sure if the parents knew I was legally blind. My career wasn't very illustrious anyway... but for other reasons. One set of parents came home to find me leading their children on an adventurous expedition on their shed roof. If I hired a babysitter who did that today, there would be stern words.

And so it comes down to this. I'm not saying you should hire a "blind babysitter" because blind people always make great parents and childcare professionals. I am saying, hire a babysitter with a good track record, period. 

If he or she doesn't have a reference--not even from their own cousin or aunt who has kids, then I probably wouldn't hire that babysitter, unless I know them well personally and was prepared to be that first reference. (I'd also be careful of babysitters who take children on hikes on the shed roof, even if they might mature into good parents someday.) 

If you ran into an experience babysitter who has an excellent track record and references and also happens to have a disability, would you hire them? Does it depend on which disability they have? Do you have any chilling tales of water hazards to share? I love to hear from you. Comment below using the bubble icon on the lower left. Share this post using the icon on the lower right.

Five skills that are more important than "a good attitude"

I sometimes like to rant about the insensitive questions people ask about disabilities or blindness. But there is one question I recently got on an international forum, which is actually a good question that often gets bad answers:

What skills are most important for a disabled person to have? 

Creative commons image by Andrea Pavanello, Milano

Some people may take offense at this because the question somehow implies that disabled people don't have the skills that other people have, but let's take it a different way. What skills are most important for a city kid to have? What skills are most important for a farm hand to have? Now it doesn't seem so threatening after all. You don't have to see disability as a terrible lack of something in order to see that it is a specific life situation. So, is there a specific skill set needed to "do disability well," just as there are specific skills for living in the city or the country?

So, it wasn't the question that bothered me this time. It was the answers. I don't even know if the answers were given by disabled people or non-disabled people, but I have my suspicions. Almost all answers focused on attitudes or temperament traits such as "persistence" and "a good attitude." 

The question wasn't inherently problematic but it got some disturbing answers. They were primarily moralistic and aimed at traits that make someone a "pleasant and socially acceptable disabled person."

Creative commons image by vedic-words

So, it got me thinking. What if I was a parent of a kid with a disability? What skills would I want my child to learn? I've heard my own mom talk about the angst involved. Every mother wants the best for their kid. I was recently also given this question personally by someone who's grandfather was swiftly losing his sight. And even though I may get some argument from disabled people who could justifiably say that the field is too broad and there are no skills that are specifically necessary to all of us, I think I can answer this question better than the preachers of "how to be a nice disabled person."

I'll focus on skills or tools that A. can be learned and B. are essential to thriving as a disabled person in today's society.

1. The ability to create text quickly: For most this will mean learning to type. This is the primary vehicle to being able to articulate needs, deal with authorities and stand up for one's self in today's world. If you want to have a hope of advocating for yourself, this is primary. I grew up legally blind and writing by hand was a major struggle. When I was a child I went from being a C student to a straight A student in one year. The intervention was that a wise teacher intensively taught me to type. Many disabilities don't entail difficulties writing by hand but still the ability to type pays dividends.
2. Access and the ability to navigate the internet: This is both a skill and a tool. I have seen a lot of people with disabilities essentially dis-empowered through lack of access. The internet has it's evils but in terms of dealing with the inevitable social and physical issues of a disability, internet access and skills are key.
3. An understanding of social and legal systems: I suppose everyone needs to understand the mechanisms of our society, how bureaucracies work and how to work with people. But it is particularly crucial to people with any sort of disability because of the need to advocate and figure out alternative options for everyday things. Some people are naturally good at this. Others have to consciously learn it.  
4. Social skills as a tool: I hesitate to put this in here because "social skills" is term of rhetoric  often thrown at disabled people by those who have too much judgment. But there is some truth underneath the slime. The first thing to emphasize is that social skills do not make you a "better" person or more acceptable or get you more friends. Many, if not most, people will ignore people with disabilities, many dismiss or shun them, some will openly harass them, Whether or not the person with a disability has good "social skills" matters. It will change the dynamic by about 10 percent. Ten percent fewer people will shun or ostracize a person with a disability who exhibits good social skills. BUT the message that people with disabilities are routinely given is that, if they would just perfect their smile or their posture, they would be accepted. And that's a lie. Many people with disabilities spend a huge proportion of their time and energy trying to perfect these things in order to "be good enough" when the truth is that for most of society we will never "be good enough." That said, social skills are a key to success for disabled people because when you're dealing with official structures, schools, employers, landlords, media... all the people you encounter when advocating for yourself, social skills make a lot more than that ten-percent difference seen in purely social encounters.  
5. Permission to not be normal: When discussing social skills in the previous point, it must be emphasized at every turn that these are skills, not a way of being. I attended a lot of programs and summer camps for disabled kids when I was a child and I saw the huge gap between those who tried to "be normal" and those who just lived their own lives. I've seen disabled people who can't walk across a room or cover their basic daily needs because they keep trying to do it the way most people do. Many interventions for disabled people essentially hinge on trying to make you appear normal from the outside. But this is often a trap. Yes, you need "social skills" in one hand but in the other hand you need your permission to not be normal, to do what you need to do--even if that means handling your silverware with your teeth. You live with the body you have, not the body you don't have. This can mean that you attract some social judgement at times for not abiding by some social standards. But it's the difference between living your life vs. living to please others.

I'm sure there are plenty of essential skills I've missed. I'd love to hear from you. What skills serve a person best in today's world? Even if they aren't general to all types of disability, what are your favorite life hacks?  What would you advise someone newly disabled to learn|? Please comment using the comment button on the lower left and share this post with your friends using the button on the lower right.

Disability is social: Is someone else's medical condition your business?

When I was sixteen, I was travelling in Germany and I sat down on the edge of a fountain to read a book and wait for a bus. While I was reading, three other people sat down nearby. They apparently noticed me and the fact that my book was literally an inch from my nose.

One of them eventually reached over and mashed the book into my face and said, "There. You need some help getting the book close enough?" 

This was not an uncommon occurrence for me with immature peers, but that didn't make it any less aggravating. I'll admit that I have a temper and there have been times when I would have chewed the head off of anyone who did such a thing. But I was suffering under the delusion that Europe would be more open-minded than the US. So, instead of biting the head off the offending guy, I turned around and asked, "Haven't you ever heard of a person being nearsighted?" 

 "Why don't you get some glasses then?" the woman next to him said with no inflection of humor or understanding whatsoever. 

While I've had plenty of similar encounters and tossed them away into the fog at the back of my mind titled "Why lots of people suck," that one has remained clear and fresh in my mind for twenty years--down to the grain of the cement on the fountain base and the sunlight shining through the budding trees of early spring.

Maybe I remember it because that was when I first started to understand that this is going to happen, no matter what you do. If you have a disability, you will be harassed--even in nice liberal places like Germany, even when you aren't asking for help or accommodations, even when you're just minding your own business. 

Up until that point I had taken every nasty social encounter as proof that I was a social loser. But this time it was so clearly not my problem that it was a bit of a revelation to me. 

The other day, I was on a train with my six-year-old daughter, headed for her music lessons in the city. I was reading Little House in the Big Woods to her with my nose properly rubbing the pages. The train conductor came by and I bought a ticket and showed my transportation disability ID that gives me a discount on that route. The conductor made a stink about how my card must be expired, even though the date on it was clearly good for another two years. Finally, the conductor did his job and left. But then one of the passengers turned around in a nearby seat and said, "Were'd you get the fake ID? You're obviously not blind, since you can read." 

I hadn't stowed my foldable white cane and it was still propped against our seat. Sometimes I leave it out on purpose, just to scare away nosy twerps, but sometimes it doesn't work. Even without having an argument with the train conductor, I've had people stop me and demand that I surrender my cane, because they have seen me reading something and therefore they "know" I'm not "blind." 

On this particular occasion I turned to my daughter and explained again how some people don't know very much about people who can't see well. 

My daughter replied, "A girl at my school said that you look bad." 

"What kind of bad?" 

"Just bad," she said. "Anyway, I made her stop and she promised she wouldn't say that anymore. " She clenched her tiny fist and bared her teeth.

Oh gods, now my six-year-old is getting in fights over it. 

As a result, I would like to do a little bit of public education right here and now. Here are some basic facts that could resolve all of these situations and a great many others. Please pass them on to your friends.

Creative commons image by Antonio Cruz/Abr of Agencia Brasil

• First, the majority of legally blind people can see something. 
• Some legally blind people wear glasses to increase what they can see or to protect their eyes from bright light or to gain social acceptability (either by hiding eyes that appear a bit different or by simply alerting others to the fact that they don't see well).
• Some visually impaired people DON'T wear glasses. For instance, my eyes look a little odd and I would get a lot less social flak if I wore sunglasses, but sunglasses cut way down on what I can see. Some vision impairments are not helped by glasses. Some visually impaired people wear contact lenses. 
• Some people have to use a combination of contact lenses and glasses for medical reasons. Unless you're a doctor and the person is seeking your medical advice, this is not your business. (For instance, I see far better with contact lenses than with glasses--due to some complicated optical physics--but I can't wear contacts all the time for medical reasons. So, I wear contacts when I really need to see well, for instance when out in public, but I usually wear glasses at home.)
• Some partially sighted people use white canes. The fact that someone uses a white cane means they are legally blind. It does not mean they can't see anything. I for instance can see quite well at about one or two inches. I can't see other people's faces so well or speeding cars.
• Some totally blind people don't use white canes. They navigate almost entirely through echolocation and good memory. They are not in physical danger and it isn't your job to tell them how they should get around. I can get around like they do and I did for more than thirty years, despite not being able to see the ground very well, but I now choose to use a cane to avoid a lot of social flak. That is my choice and some people choose differently.
• The fact that someone's eyes move oddly does not mean they are mentally ill or developmentally disabled. Again, I don't care to count the times people have told me that they thought I was "retarded" when they first met me only to be "pleasantly surprised" to find out later that I'm only visually impaired. This is the primary reason I have used a white cane when in public for the past seven years. I traveled the world without one, worked as a journalist in war zones and some other sketchy places and so on. But small town social life is less forgiving than that and I've been beaten into submission. I now carry a white cane as a sort of signalling device because I prefer the nasty social things many people do to visually impaired people to the nastier social things many people do to developmentally disabled people. Which means...
• You'll sometimes see me using a white cane and then folding it away and not using it. You'll sometimes see me riding a bike in quiet areas without a lot of traffic. You'll sometimes see me hiking on rough terrain without a cane and then using a cane on a nice smooth sidewalk downtown. This is because the only real safety-related need for my cane is to avoid being run over by drivers who assume that every pedestrian can see them, and sure, they're supposed to stop but "just this once" the pedestrian should move out of the way or stay put or whatever (depending on the hand signal the driver is making).
• And to expand upon this, people who use wheelchairs are not all paralyzed. Many can move their legs. Many can walk for short distances.
• People who use wheelchairs can very likely talk just fine, as can people with white canes. and many deaf people can as well.
• People who use wheelchairs or other walking devices are often powerful athletes. Using a wheelchair does not make a person an invalid. I am quite a good swimmer myself and a disabled man who used two canes to walk very slowly beat the pants off of me in a swimming race when I was twelve. Arm muscles are quite a thing in the water. I became a lot smarter after that.
• Not all disabilities are visible or apparent to an outsider. 
• The people who diagnose disabilities and prescribe aids for them have years of medical training. This is the job of doctors and specialists. It is not your job to give advice or correct "unfair" use of disability devices on the subway, at school or in the workplace. 
• People who hold disability ID cards or disabled parking permits in some countries go through a long and arduous process of medical assessment. The benefits provided by such cards are not only minor but generally not of any interest to non-disabled people. So, just leave this issue alone. Unless you're a state medical assessor, this is not your business. 

Those aren't all the facts to be sure. But they all add up to the same thing. 

Please don't bug people about their glasses or lack there of or their cane or lack their of or their wheelchair or their hearing aid or any such thing or lack their of. It is their device and their responsibility. You can't possibly know enough to make a judgment on someone else's specific needs. Neither can I, unless the I'm the person in question.

If you're curious, many people with disabilities will be happy to explain, if you ask politely. Some won't. In the end, it is really their business. 

Comment below with questions and your own experiences. I love to hear from readers. Let's get a discussion going. Share this post (using the button on the lower right)  to help spread education. Best wishes!