My experience volunteering with Understanding Our Differences was unexpected and invaluable. I don’t believe anyone could ever put an exact value on what I got out of it and that to me is something worth sharing. My grandmother, works for an organization called Understanding Our Differences located in Newton. This program works with kids in schools to educate them about their peers who might have a disability. She invited me to volunteer at the 200 year celebration of Braille as part of my community service hours needed to be confirmed in the Catholic church.
Before the event I thought about what life would be like to use Braille on a day-to-day basis, what would it be like to be blind? I decided that I wouldn’t like it. I decided I’d be scared, and that I wouldn’t know how I’d find the motivation to learn Braille. Something that changed my perspective was seeing the people who came to the event, who were in fact blind, and seeing that they were smiling. Seeing that they were living a life that from the outside appeared to be one they are happy with.
From that moment on, I felt a little uneasy. I felt this way because of all of the times I have complained about different things happening in my life. The difference is, I am a fully able person and these people have lost their privilege to see the world, to see its beauty. Only they never lost that privilege. What I’ve learned is that when you go blind or go deaf, your other senses heighten. As I said before, I saw these people being happy; however, if I closed my eyes, I would still be able to feel the joy radiating from every single curious mind in the room. I spent so long thinking that little issues in my day-to-day life were huge and dramatic, until I sat there listening and watching the world play out in front of me as I simply observed: Listening to laughter in the room, listening to the kids exclaim when they see one of the many Braillers in action, listening to the friendly voices of the people in the library.
Watching the kids who were hardly over the age of six become absolutely fascinated with the children’s books printed in Braille provided me with an entirely new perspective. I watched as they skimmed their little fingers over the Braille and looked up at their mother and father and smiled. Most of them claimed that “the bumps felt funny.” Their parents would often say, “this is how you would read if you couldn’t see.” And to that, they had the biggest smile on their face. They were fascinated in something so foreign to them.
I knew beforehand that I would walk out with a new sense of appreciativeness and gratefulness for my current state, but I never thought that I’d walk out having seen people who were so content with themselves while they weren’t able to do everything. I watched as people from different walks of life came to the book table and asked me questions that I didn’t actually know the answer to. This was because I only saw this as volunteering hours until I realized that everyone here was educated on Braille and knew the answer to the questions I often got asked. I watched as the kids looked up with their curious eyes while people with mobility canes, and hearing aids walked into the room. Seeing their mind working around trying to understand life from a different perspective made me understand the value in taking the time to imagine walking in someone else’s shoes. I learned that beauty in this life is not just something that can be seen, but also felt.
