Book: The Braille Jail Anthology: A History of the Halifax School for the Blind By Chris Stark

Searches for information about residential schools for the blind in Canada are barren and missing  from search results. Yes, there are lots of results for residential school experiences of other  groups of Canadian children but once again people who are blind have been ignored… the lack of  information about the experiences of blind children in a residential school setting is the  motivation for making my research public. . Originally I conducted this research as a way of  understanding the origins of my educational experiences as a child. It helped me to come to terms  with what I had endured at the . Halifax School for the Blind. Understanding why my childhood had  been so different than those who attended public school who I met after graduation from the Halifax  school for the Blind.

A companion publication isBLIND-SIDED: EXPERIENCES FROM BEHIND THE GLASS EYE My Lifeand Times at the Halifax School for the Blind (HSB) By Chris Stark
. A biography Of Day to day life at the Halifax School For The Blind A regimented life that gradually weakened from harsh oppression to enlightened incarceration during my schooling.

Support independent publishing: Buy this e-book on Lulu.
Get Book: The Braille Jail Anthology: A History of the Halifax School for the Blind By Chris Stark

Book: BLIND-SIDED: EXPERIENCES FROM BEHIND THE GLASS EYE My Lifeand Times at the Halifax School for the Blind (HSB) By Chris Stark

Searches for information about residential schools for the blind in Canada are barren and missing from search results. Yes, there are lots of results for residential school experiences of other groups of Canadian children but once again people who are blind have been ignored… the lack of information about the experiences of blind children in a residential school setting is the motivation for making my experiences public. .

Day to day           life at a residential school for the blind is at the core of this publication. My formative years growing up with other children who are blind was: sometimes   cruel, violent, harsh but always segregated away from interaction with “normal” children. A regimented life that gradually weakened from harsh oppression to enlightened incarceration during my schooling

This biography of my formal schooling ends with life after escaping at graduation. At university I used the knowledge obtained to earn two university degrees and at the same time participate in a group of former like minded students of the school for the blind to end, what we saw as , shoddy and discriminatory Abuse of defenseless little blind   children. We used our good academic education,, survival skills, drive for independence, self reliance and determination to make a difference.. ..

A companion publication is THE BRAILLE JAIL ANTHOLOGY, A History of the Halifax School for the Blind (HSB) By Chris Stark. It is a look at the rise, success, decay and fall of the Halifax School for the Blind. As researched and viewed from a social historical perspective of a person who lived much of that experience.

Support independent publishing: Buy this e-book on Lulu.
Get Book: BLIND-SIDED: EXPERIENCES FROM BEHIND THE GLASS EYE My Lifeand Times at the Halifax School for the Blind (HSB) By Chris Stark

COMPETING MODELS OF DISABILITY MUST CONTINUE TO EVOLVE By: John Rae

Editor’s Note:. This article is based on John Rae’s presentation “From Invisibility to Rights Holders: Competing Paradigms of Disability,” at Ryerson University, October 2009.

In his 1990 article, “The Individual and Social Models of Disability,” Mike Oliver, an academic in the Disability Studies field, observes: “There is a danger that in discussing issues related to disability, we will end up with more models than Lucy Clayton [a modelling agency]. This is dangerous in that if we are not careful, we will spend all of our time considering what we mean by the medical model or the social model, or perhaps the psychological or, more recently, the administrative or charity models of disability. These semantic discussions will obscure the real issues in disability, which are about oppression, discrimination, inequality and poverty.”

It is my view, however, that many of these paradigms themselves are a significant source of the current discrimination, marginalization and oppression that is still the life experience of far too many persons with disabilities (PWDs). Today, the primary debate in the field of disability revolves around the fundamental differences between the medical and social models of disability–between viewing the disability as the primary cause of our problems, and seeing policies, attitudes and barriers in the built environment as the real impediments to our full participation and equality. However, these are only two of many ways in which disability has been described over the centuries. As new paradigms emerge, they vie for predominance and sometimes supplant previous paradigms, but the old ways of describing disability continue to compete for the attention of the public and of PWDs ourselves.

Persons with disabilities have been present from time in memorial. In ancient times, they were often ostracized from their communities and left to fend for themselves in the wilds. In medieval and renaissance periods, they were often ridiculed, as the Catholic Church interpreted them as rejects, works of the devil, and punishments for parental mistakes. This led to being excluded from society.

Remember the story in the Gospel of John, Chapter 9, about the man born blind? As the disciples walked along with Jesus, they passed by a blind man (begging, of course) and asked, “Who has sinned, this man or his parents that he was born blind?” In some cultures, PWDs are still seen as punishment for past sins.

Following Canada’s Confederation in 1867, the first residential schools for the blind were established in Nova Scotia and Ontario. While education for blind students was undoubtedly forward thinking at that time, these schools were established under the provinces’ respective Penitentiaries and Asylums Acts. In the early 1900s, the “hide us away syndrome” became even more prevalent, with the creation of various large institutions, usually in small towns, where many PWDs were housed, “out of sight and out of mind” from the rest of society.

In 1918, the CNIB was established, and later other charitable organizations were founded, to form the rehabilitation industry that is too often imbued with a philosophy based on the Charity Ethic. Training of medical professionals, furthermore, focuses on curing or fixing the sick, though most of us are no more ill than our non-disabled counterparts, and those of us with a permanent disability will never be “cured” or “fixed.” Both the charity and medical ethics have some similarities to the Professional Ethic, where decisions about “what’s best” for us are controlled by others, with or without our input.

In the 1970s, persons with disabilities, seeing the successes of the Civil Rights and Women’s movements, began to establish our own organizations. The Consumer Movement, or the Disability Rights Movement, started partly as a reaction against the charity industry and partly to provide a vehicle for self-organization and self-expression, both fundamental rights in any democracy. This process gave us as citizens the opportunity to begin forging our own destiny. For many of us, the Disability Rights Movement was a source of empowerment, giving us our first chance to participate directly in developing policies and strategies that affect our daily lives. One of the lasting benefits of our Movement is the opportunity it has given many of us to develop skills that are so useful throughout our lives.

The Disability Rights Movement invested a great deal of time and effort to secure coverage under Canada’s Charter of Rights and Freedoms and under federal, provincial and territorial Human Rights Codes. We succeeded in gaining an equitable legal framework, but even today we are far closer to achieving the Charter’s guarantee of being “equal before and under the law” than to enjoying the anticipated measure of substantive equality of the “equal benefit of the law,” which we are still far away from attaining.

Today, various paradigms continue to compete for prominence. Robin East, AEBC’s President, has recently developed the newest way of approaching disability–the Rights Holder approach. Based on the idea of “nothing about us without us,” this paradigm posits that we who have disabilities must no longer be lumped with all other so-called stakeholders, but must be given a pre-eminent role in determining the policies and legislation that affect our lives. Currently, we as Rights Holders are forced to fight hard to maintain the fundamental idea that our concerns should be viewed as issues of rights and not charity, issues that belong in the news and not the Life section of our newspapers.

The United Nations Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities (CRPD) is a new and important international instrument recognizing the appropriateness of the social model of disability. Now, it is up to all of us to learn what the first human rights Convention of the 21st century means, and to learn how to use it, and other Conventions, to advance our equality, both domestically and internationally.

BLIND MONITOR

Volume 30, Summer/Fall 2010 Voice of the Alliance for Equality of Blind Canadians
The Canadian – Alliance for Equality of Blind Canadians
www.blindcanadians.ca/sites/aebc/files/docs/cbm/31/cbm31.doc

Canada’s Banks Changed for the Better Canadian Human rights Commission

Banks across Canada make an effort to ensure that their services are accessible to people who are blind or visually impaired. Some banks offer brochures in braille. Others offer talking bank machines for people who cannot see touch screens. But these options were not always available.
In 1991, two banking customers, Chris and Marie Stark, were frustrated when they could not access important information about their mortgage and other bank services. Since they were both blind, the Starks could not read banking information that was only available in printed brochures.
The Starks filed a complaint under the Canadian Human Rights Act. The complaint was accepted by the Canadian Human Rights Commission. It was resolved in an out-of-court settlement in 1996. The case inspired Canada’s banking system to make important changes. In 1997, Canada became the first country in the world to offer talking ATM machines to better serve people who are blind or partially sighted.

Milestones of Human Rights in Canada | Canadian Human Rights Commission

http://www.chrc-ccdp.gc.ca/eng/content/milestones-human-rights-canada

MARJORIE FULTON: LIFELONG ADVOCATE By: Sara Bennett, CBM Associate Editor

Editor’s Note: Marjorie Fulton, who passed away on November 15, 2009, was an advocate on accessibility issues for people with disabilities, including sitting on AEBC’s Copyright Subcommittee. Below is an outline of Ms. Fulton’s advocacy journey, based on some of Marjorie’s own writings.

Marjorie Fulton was born on her family’s farm in Manitoba in 1931. At age ten, she lost her sight from progressive myopia and enrolled in the School for the Blind in Brantford, Ontario. A bright student, she left the school after grade 12 at the age of 16, and in 1952 earned a Master’s degree in Social Work from the University of Manitoba. She was assisted by volunteer readers, as this was before the advent of tape recorders, and by friends who acted as sighted guides, as orientation and mobility training had not been available at the school for the blind at the time of her attendance. It was when she was a Social Work student, in fact, that Marjorie learned how to use a white cane. She would acquire her first guide dog in 1988.

After graduating from university, Marjorie worked at the Winnipeg YWCA for nine years, where she lobbied for increased minimum wages for sewing factory workers and for a change in policy to allow pregnant women to stay in the residence. When she moved to Family Services of Winnipeg, she contributed to the improvement of Manitoba’s family laws. But it really wasn’t until the 1970s that she began advocating on disability issues, like being part of a group that persuaded the Winnipeg public library, as well as the provincial public library system, to develop and provide through interlibrary loan a collection of audio materials, including both talking books for the blind and commercially available audio tapes.

By the late ’70s, the Independent Living Movement, which sought to replace the medical model of disability with a social model, had reached Manitoba. The province’s disabled citizens, through their involvement with the Council of Canadians with Disabilities, were instrumental in triggering the Special Parliamentary Committee on the Handicapped during the International Year of Disabled Persons, 1981. At the time, Marjorie was arranging for the preparation and distribution of audio and braille copies of conference documents, but when the Parliamentary Committee’s report “Obstacles” resulted in an amendment to the Human Rights Act–adding disability as prohibited grounds for discrimination–and the position of policy analyst opened up, Marjorie got the job. She moved to Ottawa in 1982 to begin working for the Canadian Human Rights Commission. According to Marjorie, perhaps a quarter of the complaints filed under the act were based on disability and this proportion did not lessen over the years.

In 1989, Marjorie began working at Human Resources Development Canada in the Employment Equity Program. This legislation required federally regulated businesses–banks, airlines, broadcasters etc.–federal contractors and the federal government itself to recruit and retain women, visible minorities, Aboriginal people and persons with disabilities in proportion to their representation in the workforce. Its best results, according to Marjorie, was its application to contractors doing business with the Canadian government.

After her “retirement”, and in response to suggestions from some blind Ottawa residents, Marjorie put together a brief on the need for accessible pedestrian signals, which eventually succeeded in getting the city to adopt a comprehensive policy. Also, as a member of the Council of Canadians with Disabilities’ (CCD) Access to Information Committee, she helped to develop a Canadian standard for accessible banking machines, which eventually resulted in some banks installing such machines. Similarly, she got involved in proceedings related to the revision of the Canadian Copyright Act. As it was necessary to secure permission from the copyright holder to produce material in accessible formats, a process that often resulted in delays in getting such things as textbooks, Marjorie and others sought a requirement that publishers provide accessible alternatives for comparable charges on request. Instead, an exemption now means that it is no longer an infringement of copyright to make an accessible version. Through CCD, Marjorie also lobbied the publishers’ associations to begin depositing their own electronic files with a central repository, from which alternative versions could be produced as needed. This is still taking shape.

“The world has treated me very generously,” Marjorie wrote in an item about her advocacy work. “I had a loving family and supportive friends. I was also fortunate in timing, starting college just when farm income enabled my father to fund my post-secondary education, training for social work just when jobs were multiplying, and being a known activist when disability rights employment opened up.” But perhaps final credit for Marjorie’s advocacy efforts should go to what she learned both personally and as a social worker: “What stayed with me was that, in maturing, you stop waiting for Santa Claus, and instead become Santa Claus, taking action to address your own needs.”

BLIND MONITOR

Volume 30, Summer/Fall 2010 Voice of the Alliance for Equality of Blind Canadians
The Canadian – Alliance for Equality of Blind Canadians
www.blindcanadians.ca/sites/aebc/files/docs/cbm/31/cbm31.doc

The Organizations That Tried: Predecessors of the AEBC By Dave Greenfield

Editor’s Note: Dave Greenfield is an AEBC member in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan. He is a writer of both poetry and prose and an activist in a number of issue areas.
During the 20th century, in the decades prior to the founding of the Alliance for Equality of Blind Canadians (AEBC), there were several attempts in various parts of Canada to establish consumer organizations of the blind and partially sighted.
In 1926, several local consumer groups, particularly from Quebec, Ontario and Manitoba, came together to form the Canadian Federation of the Blind (CFB). One of the organization’s major concerns was achieving a very basic economic security for blind people. It advocated for a monthly blindness pension, which it eventually achieved in 1937 to the tune of $10 per month. The organization was also interested in employment and greater independence for the blind.
One of the major figures involved in the CFB was Philip E. Layton, himself blind, who operated a successful piano tuning business in Montreal. He also helped to found the Montreal Association for the Blind, a rehabilitation centre teaching adaptive skills and largely run by blind consumers.
Many of the people active in the Canadian Federation of the Blind had issues with the countrywide service provider, the Canadian National Institute for the Blind (CNIB). The CNIB had been founded in 1918, and had, in the view of many, adopted an overly rigid and paternalistic approach toward questions of blindness. As a result of the Federation’s desire to think freely, be fully independent of the CNIB’s sphere of influence, and enable blind people to speak for themselves, the CNIB took a hostile attitude toward the Federation. The CNIB tended to be governed by its desire to be in the good books with the Canadian business community, and tended to view the CFB as an organization aligned with the labour and social democratic movement in Canada, a movement calling for economic justice rather than charity.
The 1930s were a decade of poverty and despair for many groups of people within Canada, and for blind people, who were already marginalized, the experience of poverty was that much greater. Following this decade, the years of World War II saw a sharp, though temporary, increase in employment opportunities for blind Canadians, as labour was scarce and greater industrial production levels were required to support the war effort. By 1945, these ups and downs for blind Canadians had largely devastated the CFB.
At its height, the Federation had established a number of local social clubs in various cities across Canada. These clubs brought blind people together to share stories, discuss issues, and perhaps experience a badly needed break from the monotony of marginalization. As the Federation petered out, many of these social clubs were taken over by a new organization, the Canadian Council of the Blind (CCB).
While the Canadian Federation of the Blind had challenged the CNIB, and sought to create independent space where blind people could speak for themselves, the CCB, from its beginnings, seems to have made a point of working with the CNIB, even being submissive to it. For many years, CCB allowed CNIB to be its sole source of funding. This was so much the case that during the 50s and 60s, it was perceived by many as being no more than the CNIB’s puppet. During these years, blind people in Canada, technically, had a national consumer organization, the Canadian Council of the Blind; however, its members, at its annual meetings, adopted resolutions calling for the CCB to take various types of actions but, generally, none was acted upon unless the CNIB thought it was in its interests.
The 1960s and 70s were a time when many marginalized groups began visibly and publicly fighting for their rights. The African American civil rights movement of the late 1950s and early 1960s inspired many to start thinking about questions of equality and social justice. The anti-war, women’s, environmental and disability rights movements would all emerge and take to the streets working for social change. This was the era when the North American baby boom came of age on our campuses and in our streets.
By the 1970s, the Canadian blind section of the baby boom had also strutted out on to the stage of history. Several local blind consumer organizations arose across the country. In Atlantic Canada, in the early 70s, the Blind Rights Action Movement (BRAM) emerged as a somewhat short-lived entity, comprised largely of graduates from the Halifax School for the Blind. The group focused on education, but petered out when four of its leading members got jobs with the CNIB, and apparently felt that they were changing the system from within, rather than from without.
In the mid 70s, the Manitoba Federation of the Visually handicapped was founded, as was Le Regroupement des Aveugles et Amblyopes du Quebec (RAAQ).
The most nationally significant consumer organization to emerge in this era was the Blind Organization of Ontario with Self-Help Tactics (BOOST), founded in early 1975. Based in Toronto and other centres in Ontario, Canada’s psychological heartland, the group’s activism on a variety of issues quickly gained a degree of profile that most of the other consumer groups of this time did not.
While BOOST addressed a variety of issues of concern to blind Ontarians, including the lack of legislation, need for new employment opportunities and need for self- and public education, its ability to articulate valid criticisms of the CNIB is probably what caused people to sit up and take notice. In a culture where the CNIB was, and still is, considered to be an unquestionable sacred cow, here suddenly was a group of young articulate blind people confronting the CNIB in the nation’s heartland.
In 1979, several BOOST leaders, including John Rae and Mike Yale (later to become active in the AEBC), began a one-year project that culminated in the 1980 publication of “Self-Help and Government Commitment: A Call to Action, Developing Alternative Service Models” (DASM). The report examined the history of both the CNIB and the blindness consumer movement in Canada. Among its many recommendations, it called for the CNIB to be phased out in ten years and replaced by provincial, government-run commissions of the blind. This report caused ripples on the Canadian pond. Its two leading authors, Rae and Yale, were interviewed on Morningside, one of CBC Radio’s major current affairs programs at the time. Other media also took note.
While the DASM report had given a higher profile to BOOST’s concerns, its recommendations were not without controversy. Not everyone in BOOST favoured phasing out the CNIB. Some could not seem to free themselves from an emotional addiction to the service provider, and a few were even offered employment with the agency. The internal battles within BOOST over the following years led some to wonder if the CNIB was deliberately working to co-opt BOOST members and use “divide and conquer” tactics against the consumer group.
The CNIB’s hostility toward the Canadian Federation of the Blind in the 1920s and 30s had likely contributed to the CFB’s downfall, and the CNIB’s ability to co-opt four of the leaders of the Maritimes’ Blind Rights Action Movement in the early 1970s had effectively destroyed that consumer group. Now, faced with this more serious threat, it was surmised that the CNIB was sewing seeds of division within BOOST. Whether or not this was the case, by 1983 the question of how to approach the CNIB was tearing BOOST apart.
For a short time, around 1980, there had been talk of BOOST going national and forming a countrywide blindness consumer organization that could pick up where the CFB had left off 40 years earlier, but this idea did not take off and the opportunity was lost.
In the spring of 1987, some blind activists in Saskatoon, who had admired BOOST, invited John Rae, one of the authors of the DASM report, to speak to a day-long seminar on blindness issues. Out of this one-day seminar, a new local organization, the Visually Impaired Persons’ Action Council (VIPAC), was formed. It would exist as an active force from 1988 until about 1998. It would raise issues on the local scene in Saskatoon, and publish the results of two major surveys–“Information Needs” and “Speaking of Employment.” Over time, the frustrations of being a small local organization, in a world where institutional controls existed on a much larger scale, began to take its toll on morale. VIPAC, too, was destined to peter out, as it realized the limits of what a small consumer organization could accomplish in a local context. A few members of VIPAC, however, would come to play an important role in the establishment and evolution of Canada’s first independent national blindness consumer group since the 1940s, the organization now known as the Alliance for Equality of Blind Canadians.

A VOYAGE IN TWO WORLDS by David E. Foohey

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I–
I took the one less travelled by,
And that has made all the difference.
–Robert Frost

Miracles and Medicine

I had the good fortune to be born to parents who loved me and who, as far as they could, accepted me as I was–totally blind. They were not overly protective. As a small boy, I rode my tricycle along the sidewalks near our home. My father taught me
how to ski and to skate. He also believed that I should learn how to handle my own problems.

One day I bought an ice cream at a nearby shop. As I had given the shopkeeper a dime, he should have handed back a nickel instead of a penny. Although I was only six years old, I knew that a penny was smaller than a nickel and that it would buy less than a nickel. A dime was smaller than either, but it had a rough edge. I therefore took this penny home to my father. He explained to me that the shopkeeper must have made a mistake. I should return to the shop with the penny and explain matters to him. When I entered the shop, it was crowded. But I marched up to the counter and, in a loud voice, told the shopkeeper of his error. The buzz of conversation ceased. In the ensuing silence, Flustered, he quickly exchanged the penny for a nickel, and he saw to it that I left his shop with another ice cream–on him. Years later, I found out that this shopkeeper was notorious for short-changing people.

I have since wondered how I came to be in possession of a dime, for my weekly allowance was a nickel, a quite generous allowance in 1929. The dime must have been a birthday or Christmas gift or have been left for me by a relative or other visitor to our home. I had to do some work for my weekly spending money. Every night after supper, while my mother washed the dishes, my father would sit down in our livingroom to read the evening paper. At such times he wanted his slippers, and it was my job to take his boots to the bedroom and to bring him the slippers.

The cause of my blindness is open to question. An
ophthalmologist who examined my eyes some years ago told me that it could be owing to any one of a half-dozen causes and that, on account of the atrophy of the eye through not being used, it was impossible to say which of these causes was operative in my case. But my father had a quite different story to tell. I was a home delivery and, according to my father, the doctor who delivered me was drunk at the time. Although he himself was a teetotler, my father had grown up in a community where, late last century, drunkenness in public was a daily occurrence. He would therefore know whether another person was drunk or not. But whether this doctor’s condition contributed to my blindness is a question I shall never be able to answer. It hardly matters now. Whenever a physician asks me the cause of my blindness, I find it diplomatic to give only the first answer.

As both my brother and sister were much older than me, I was,
in a sense, an only child. Until I was almost nine years old, I never played with another child. That summer Mother and I travelled from our home in Saint John, New Brunswick to Boston, where we spent three weeks with relatives. I was sent out to play with a little girl who was about two years younger than me but much older in the ways of children. I believe we fought continuously throughout those three weeks. She was faster on her feet than I, but her pigtail was her Achilles heel. Although we have seldom seen each other since, I retain a certain liking for Cousin Katherine.

My father, a devout Roman Catholic, believed in miracles. When I was two years old, he arranged for Mother and me to go to Montreal to visit St. Joseph’s Oratory, which was being built on the Blessed Brother Andre’s reputation for healing. I have been told that I sat on the knee of the Blessed Brother Andre and that I behaved in a manner appropriate to the occasion. I remember only being on a train and living in a house with some unfamiliar but very kind people. Several of these friendly people were teen-aged girls, who were delighted to have a little boy to look after. They talked to me in French, and I have been given to understand that by the end of a week’s stay with them, I could speak French. Of course, upon my return to a unilingual home, I soon lost my bilingual status.

Our visit to the Oratory had two lasting effects on me, one of which has remained with me to this day. The officials of the Oratory did try to send people away with hope in their hearts. For me there were tips for healthful living. A priest there told my mother that there are cords in the backs of the legs that lead to the brain. I should therefore never be allowed to go outside with bare legs. As a child, I always had to wear knee-length stockings. Whatever this restraint may have done for my brain, possibly it conformed to the reverend gentleman’s idea of modesty. He also told her that I should not be permitted to drink anything at meals or for a half-hour before or after meals. Once I went to school, this dietary restriction was lifted, and at home as well as at school. Nevertheless, such is the power of early habits that, even today, I seldom want to drink anything with my meals.

When I was five, six and seven years of age, Mother and I made three annual pilgrimages to the shrine at Ste. Anne de Beaupre, near Quebec City. We travelled there on a pilgrim train and in a car for people (mainly Irish) from Southern New Brunswick. On our way to and from the diner, we passed through the next car to ours, which was for French people from Northern New Brunswick. Their adults seemed more joyful than ours, both going to and returning from the shrine. Our adults were quiet and solemn, almost as though they were in church. But from time to time we could hear singing from the next car–of hymns no doubt, especially on the way to St. Anne’s. On the way back, a fiddle could sometimes be heard from the next car. Even our adults were more cheerful. They seemed relieved. As our train pulled out from St. Anne’s, a rumour would fly about of a miracle on another train, perhaps the train from the West, or even the one from Toronto. Although everybody was kind to me, I would have the feeling that in some way I had disappointed people. I now think that they must have been disappointed because I had failed to bring forth the miracle they had hoped for–perhaps feared. Years later, I was told that some of these pilgrims had rather unsavoury reputations in the community. By going on a pilgrimage, they were trying to demonstrate that they had turned over a new leaf. Such people might have found Divine intervention, even in the form of a miracle, a little too close for comfort.

When I was eight years old, my father took me to see a missionary priest who was visiting our parish. He said that if I could be brought to Boston, he would arrange to have my eyes examined by one of the world’s most skilful ophthalmologists. That summer Mother and I went to Boston and stayed with the relatives already mentioned.

I liked the ophthalmologist because he spoke to me as well as about me. After a brief examination of my eyes, he told my mother that I was totally blind and that nothing could be done to give me sight. He urged her to get me to school as soon as possible and offered to help with my enrolment at the Perkins Institution, which is located near Boston. He said that for many years Perkins had run one of the finest schools in the world for blind children.

When I was three, a local optician had fitted me with glasses, which I still wore and would continue to wear until the age of twelve. Mother was finally persuaded to allow me to go without glasses by a diplomatic school superintendent, who pointed out that as I ran about so much, I might run into something and break my glasses and the glass might injure my eyes. This optician had sold my parents a delusion for $22.50, which was more than my father earned in a week. The world-famous ophthalmologist charged us only $10 for reality. But then it is not unusual for people to
be willing to pay more for a delusion than for reality.

A mind that is stretched to a new idea never returns to its original dimension. –Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr.

As my mother continued to be upset, the doctor asked her to wait outside so that he could talk to me. With my mother out of the room, he proceeded to explain my blindness to me. He said that my blindness was neither a blessing nor a curse; it was a fact. I found this reassuring because on a couple of occasions neighbours had wondered out loud to my parents as to how such an affliction could have come upon them, they being such good people. I knew who the affliction was. I could also remember a time when my mother, by mentioning my blindness, had inadvertently frightened a salesman into running down the stairs and rushing out of our house. This salesman had been trying to sell her a very expensive statue of St. Thereasa. When my mother had said that we were not well off, he had countered that we could afford a radio. Mother had retorted that I was blind and that the radio was my only source of entertainment. The ophthmologist also said that I should be neither proud nor ashamed of my blindness; it was a fact. I explained to the doctor why my parents believed that I had some sight. When they dropped coins onto the linoleum flooring in our livingroom, I could tell a quarter from a dime. My parents said that I must be able to see the difference. The doctor asked me whether I could hear the difference and I said that I could. We agreed that it was my hearing that made the difference.

Mother left the office sad; I left relieved. I would no longer have to pretend to be able to see things. I was never again subjected to the coin test.

The next morning we visited the missionary priest who had arranged for our visit to the ophthalmologist. Mother was still upset because the doctor had said that I was totally blind. The priest explained that the doctor had said that because he was an atheist. I piped up that I had liked him. It was now my turn to be sent out of an office. The priest asked my cousin, who had accompanied us, to take me into the monastery garden.

We also visited a blood doctor. He took a sample of Mother’s blood and a sample of mine. Again, Mother was very upset. But she said that if he found anything, she would accept it if it would help me to gain my sight. She also said that if the doctor found anything, my father in Saint John would have to give a sample of his blood. As the doctor in Boston did not find anything, my father did not have to go to the doctor in Saint John. I found all of this a mystery. Nevertheless, I had the feeling that I was not supposed to ask about it, so I did not ask.

Having exhausted the healing powers of Boston, we returned home to Saint John. I was now nearing my ninth birthday. I had a cousin my own age who would be entering grade four that autumn. My older brother Joe went to Holy Trinity School, which was on the next street to ours. This school was run by the Sisters of Charity. On several occasions Mother and I had visited the school and talked with the teachers. We always attended the closing exercises at the end of the school year. I got it into my head that, like Joe, I would be attending Holy Trinity. But the authorities would not permit me to do so on account of my blindness. The Sisters of Charity prepared the children of the parish for their First Communion at age seven. As I had not been allowed to attend this school, even for religious instruction, I was not able to make my First Communion.

Nevertheless, on Sunday morning Mother always took me to the children’s Mass in Holy Trinity Church, where we sat in the gallery. She now had the idea that if we sat in the main body of the church and just behind the school children, I could learn my prayers by hearing these children recite them aloud. The children of Holy Trinity School sat at the front of the church, near the altar, with a reverend sister in charge of them. At certain times during the Mass, they said prayers aloud. The rest of the congregation sat behind the children or in the gallery. One Sunday morning Mother and I took our places immediately behind the school children. But we did not remain there for long. The Sister of Charity in charge came back to us and ordered us to get to the back of the church, where there were no kneeling benches. Mother said nothing. But we went to the back of the church and out through the back door and home.

Mother was furious and talked to relatives and friends about what had happened. One evening a few days later, the priest visited our home. Mother was still very angry; my father was very quiet; the priest talked of the mortal sin of missing Mass. It was arranged that Mother and I would attend the children’s Mass and that we would sit in the gallery, where there were kneeling benches. If I sat there, nobody could possibly take me for a pupil in the sisters’ school. When, home from school, I accompanied Mother to church, we still sat in that gallery, never in the main body of the church.

At the time, I did not understand what all the fuss was about. But I knew that the fuss was over me and that it had to do with my blindness. In the future, I would always have a feeling of unease upon entering a church. I already knew that my lack of sight made me different from other people. I was now forced to realize that it also sometimes made my presence unwelcome.

The priest agreed with my parents that, somehow, I would have to make my First Communion. My grown-up sister Ann, who had attended a convent school, took on the task of preparing me for my First Communion. But it was not to be made with ceremony or with the other children of the parish. Mother and I attended an early-morning weekday Mass, when there would be but few people in church. Before administering the Sacrament to me, the priest asked shrewdly, in a stage whisper, whether I was “deef too.” I remember this incident on account of the way in which he pronounced the word “deaf.” I now understand why he asked this question. One should not receive a sacrament without having a commitment to what one is doing. Had I been deaf as well as blind, it would have required the services of a person skilled in communicating with deaf children to provide me with the information necessary for such a commitment.

No doubt the presence of a small child with a highly visible disability renders it more difficult for shepherds to justify to their sheep the ways of God to man. In the Old Testament, the Book of Job wrestles with the question as to how, God being all-knowing, all-powerful and good, bad things can happen to good people. His friend Eliphaz visits Job, who is suffering in both body and spirit. Eliphaz suggests to Job that Job cannot be so good a man as he appears to be and counsels, “Remember, I pray thee, who ever perished, being innocent? Or where were the righteous cut off?” (Job: 3 7) With friends like Eliphaz, who needs an enemy? But, without resorting to original sin, it is difficult to see how a small child could be guilty of great wickedness. A mere economist, I would not presume to tell shepherds how to tend their sheep. Nevertheless, it seems to me that if shepherds had been able to find it consistent with their theology to regard disabilities as facts rather than as evidence of Divine displeasure, they might have found it easier to permit children with disabilities to participate in public religious instruction and ceremonies.

A few weeks after our return from Boston, Mother and I were visited by two officials of the Canadian National Institute for the Blind. They said that I would have to be sent out of my city and out of my province to attend a residential school for “the blind” in Halifax, Nova Scotia. This was not so. At that time, a child whom the local schools refused to accept did not have to be sent to school. Possibly these officials believed that the end justifies the means–always a dangerous belief. Concerning my need to go to school, the CNIB officials were preaching to the converted. My mother realized that I would have to live my life as a blind person. It was my being totally blind that she found difficult to accept. She knew that, as a residential school for blind children was the only kind of school that would accept me, the nearest school where I COULD GET AN EDUCATION WAS the Halifax School for the Blind. It was my father who kept praying and waiting for a miracle. I suspect this waiting was why I was not already at school. These CNIB officials also said that I would have to learn how to live with “his own kind.” I had to realize that my father and mother were not the most powerful people in the world. Things would happen to me that neither they nor I wanted to happen. I would have to learn new ways. When I was in my final year of high school, an official of the institute assured my father that, as soon as I was through school, the CNIB would take me over. During my adult years, I have supported the institute both financially and, from time to time, as a volunteer. But I have never allowed myself to be taken over.

It was arranged that I would enter the Halifax School for the
Blind after Christmas. In those days, the train journey took about ten hours, which meant that I would be able to come home for only the Christmas and summer vacations. My mother travelled to Halifax with me and stayed at the school overnight. Mother had eaten her evening meal and breakfast in the girls’ dining-room at a table that was being supervised by a blind lady who was a teacher. This experience had given her ideas concerning my possible future. The following morning, waiting in the library for the superintendent, Mother remarked to the librarian that it would be lovely if, one day, I could become a teacher at the school. A well meaning but very limited woman, she remarked, very coldly, that my mother was looking a very long way ahead. Apparently Mother felt that if I was going to have to live my life among my “own kind,” I should at least have a superior place among them.
No doubt fearing a scene, the superintendent advised my mother to slip away quietly without saying goodbye to me. Mother refused to do this. There was no scene.

The next day, January 6, 1932, I celebrated my ninth birthday. Some celebration!

The Braille Jail

All our knowledge has its origins in our perceptions.
–Leonardo da Vinci

My age was important because, at that time, blind children
were entitled to only seven academic years of schooling following their tenth birthday. I might therefore have had less than nine years in which to prepare myself to earn a living. Years spent at the school by children under the age of ten were added to these seven years. pupils entering the school between the ages of ten and thirteen were entitled to seven years, pupils between fourteen and seventeen to five years and pupils between eighteen and twenty-one to three years.

On account of childhood illnesses and accidents and, in ALL TOO MANY cases, the failure of teachers in the public and separate schools to recognize children as having visual problems, some pupils did not enter our school until they were in their teens. Often their inability to see what was written on the blackboard had resulted in them being considered stupid and in them learning little. Many came to our school with a very poor opinion of themselves. Usually, there was insufficient time for them to complete high school, and some could not even enter high school. But there should be time enough to teach them a trade. Our school was THEREFORE important as a trades school as well as an academic institution. For boys,instruction was given in shoe repairing, broom making, mattress making, chair seating and piano tuning. Girls were taught cooking, sewing, knitting and crocheting.

It was possible for a pupil to receive additional years of schooling if the school recommended it and if the municipality of residence of his parents was willing and able to pay for them. As I came from Saint John, a relatively prosperous city, I was able to obtain the two additional years I needed to complete high school. But, especially during the depression of the 1930’s, many students who came from poor communities were not so fortunate. Municipalities granted additional years one at a time. Therefore, prior to my final year, it was not known that I would be able to complete high school.

But they should be able to teach me a trade. They little knew the magnitude of their undertaking. First, they tried to teach me how to put cane seats in chairs, but with little success. They were much too wise to ever entrust me with a real chair. I never advanced beyond the rectangular frame. An exasperated instructor would chide, “You stand there, Foohey, thinking of some poem or other instead of how to get your two’s on top of your one’s.” Or was it the other way around? The next attempt was in piano tuning and repairing. At least I think I MADE SOME PROGRESS WITH THE TUNING, BUT, AS WILL BE SEEN LATER, MY REPAIRS WERE DISASTERS.

During my first few months at the school, I was desperately homesick. I had been a member of a family of five living in a small apartment. I now found myself in an institution with over two hundred persons. The corridors were long and wide and high and echoed. With experience, I would learn how to use echoes in getting around. But at first I found them frightening. The rooms were large, crowded and noisy. I slept in a dormitory with a half-dozen other boys and ate in a dining-room with about eighty other boys. I had never played with a boy. But the military tactics taught me by Cousin Katherine stood me in good stead.

We were given baths twice a week–three boys to a bath water. I soon learned to be the first, fourth or seventh boy in line for a bath so as to be able to enjoy clean water. I learned about arithmetic progression early. Mother had trained me in the use of a knife and fork. But here boys under fifteen ate everything with a spoon–the same spoon. Thus, at breakfast we dug into the COLD beans with the same spoon we had used for the tepid porridge, and, at dinner, the same spoon served for the meat course and the pie.

Every Sunday afternoon Mother wrote me a letter, which always arrived Tuesday morning. The mail was then known as the Royal Mail and always arrived on time. During the eighteen years I spent in Halifax, as a student and then as a teacher, I don’t think that a letter or a food parcel was ever late.

All letters were read out in class, and recipients were expected to dictate replies immediately. I was grateful to Mother for not engaging in sentimentality. One religious lady kept on referring to her offspring as a “child of God.” I am ashamed to say that the “child of God” had to endure a lot of ridicule in the playground, and that “mommy’s little darling” fared even worse. I was soon made to understand the rules of reply. Don’t mention the cold food and the lumpy bed. Don’t talk about the lack of forks and knives. Remarks favourable to the School and, especially, to its teachers will be written down eagerly, but they may get you into trouble with your classmates. You are expected to say that you are well, happy and enjoying school. It is safe to tell the truth about the weather.

Every Wednesday Mother mailed me a food parcel, which arrived on Friday. There was always enough for the matron to be able to provide me with a treat twice a day for the entire week. Although Mother and I had no really personal communication by letter, we did communicate (though only in one direction I am afraid) with cookies, doughnuts, date squares and macaroons.

I was finding out that I liked to learn things. This love of learning helped me to overcome my loneliness. With the coming of spring, I was looking forward to going home for the summer holidays. In mid-June, the school year over, I returned home by train. It was good to be home again. But I had nobody to play with. There were many children in our neighbourhood, and I could sometimes hear them playing in our yard, but never when I was there. Perhaps their parents had warned them that if they played with me and I got hurt, they would be blamed and punished. By August, I was looking forward to going back to school.

I knew that I was still a part of a loving family. But things could never be quite the same. The pain of breaking the family tie had been severe. I would be home for only a few weeks, and I did not want to experience that pain again. I would never bond again in quite the same way, and the pain of breaking a bond would never be quite the same.

Our trips to the country were bright spots in my summer vacations. One year Mother and I would spend a fortnight with Uncle Dan and his family, and the next year we would pass a couple of weeks with my Aunt Mary. Uncle Dan and Aunt Bert had several sons and daughters in their late teens and early twenties. These cousins would take me with them when they rounded up the cows for milking. They taught me how to run the separator, which separated the cream from the milk. They also taught me how to churn butter. There was a dasher churn. To make butter, you had to push the dasher down into the cream. As the butter formed, it became harder and harder to force the dasher down and pull it back up. Nevertheless, by the time I was in my early teens, I was strong enough to make butter. I also rode the small horse and sometimes helped to harness it. I remember these cousins with fondness. The opportunities they gave me to learn to do USEFUL things helped me to grow up.

My Aunt Mary had married a ship’s captain, my Uncle Arthur, and had gone on several voyages with him. But the replacement of sail by steam had forced him to turn his back on the ports of the world and to go inland to farm a farm he had inherited. Aunt Mary and Uncle Arthur read the Bible daily, and Aunt Mary would go about her work singing such hymns as “Work For The Night Is Coming” and “Jesus Loves Me.” Uncle Arthur also had the Bible on his lips as he went about his work. But his speech was often an interesting mixture of Biblical references and the rough seaman’s language he had learned before the mast. He found his bees entirely lacking in discipline. When stung, he would refer to them as “plagues of Egypt.” He expected better of the cattle and horses, but they often disappointed him. Some of them were as stubborn as “Pharaoh.” My aunt and uncle had formed the habit of naming their cattle and horses after their numerous nieces and nephews. There was a young bull named Edmund. He was particularly stubborn.

As she and her husband had no children, for many years after Uncle Arthur’s death Aunt Mary farmed the farm herself. Saying that there should be “no idle hands in the vineyard,” Aunt Mary undertook to teach me how to milk a cow. For some reason, I had formed the opinion that the sources of milk should be between the cow’s front legs. It was not so. Aunt Mary kept on encouraging me to explore farther and farther back. Eventually, I came to things hanging down that I thought might yield milk, but I hardly dared to tempt the fates by squeezing them. Nevertheless, urged on by Aunt Mary, I squeezed and got favourable results.
I believe that my Aunt did enjoy teaching her nephew how to milk a cow.

But I had to learn about more solemn things than the geography of the cow. Towards the end of my second year at school, when I was ten years old, I was Confirmed. We were prepared for Confirmation at a nearby convent by the Mothers of the Sacred Heart, a prestigious religious order. These mothers taught us with great kindness but possibly from the point of view that, as we were blind, the Holy Ghost would not expect much of us. As it turned out, the archbishop was made of sterner stuff. We were not to be Confirmed publicly with the other children of the parish but privately at this convent. Ordinarily, each of us would have had a relative or family friend present to sponsor him and to give him a name. As this was not feasible in our case, our chaplain, a no-nonsense sort of man, decided to sponsor the lot of us and to give each of us a name. As we marched into the convent chapel, two by two, he stood at the door saying, “You’re Pat, you’re Mike; you’re Pat, you’re Mike; you’re Pat, you’re Mike….” As I was marching in the left-hand column, I became a Pat.

The archbishop, a huge Highland Scot, arrived. To everybody’s surprise, he began to try to find out whether we knew the things we ought to know to be Confirmed. “Is there any boy in grade eight who knows the Seven Gifts of the Holy Ghost?” No response. “Is there any boy in grade seven who knows the Seven Gifts of the Holy Ghost?” You could have heard a pin drop. “Is there any boy in grade six who knows the Seven Gifts of the Holy Ghost?” A deathly hush fell over the chapel. The archbishop had a strong, rich voice, and this time he spoke more loudly. “Is there any boy at all who knows the Seven Gifts of the Holy Ghost?” Although I was in only grade two, I stood up. But I did not make a good beginning. “Yes, sir!” I called out, instead of “yes, Your Grace!” I don’t suppose it had ever cross the mind of any of the reverend mothers who had trained us that any of us would ever have to address an archbishop. But this archbishop must have had a big heart in his big body, for he apparently understood. He did not reprimand me but allowed me to go on. I started off with “wisdom,” ended up with “fear of the Lord,” and sat down. The ceremony of Confirmation could now commence.

The Chaplain had warned us that the archbishop would give each of us a buffet on the cheek to remind us of the buffets we would receive in the course of our lives as Christians. He had said that, although the archbishop would never willingly hurt anybody, there would be so much weight behind his buffet that we would have to hold on to the altar rail tightly to avoid rolling down the chapel isle, something the Mothers of the Sacred Heart would consider definitely not nice. I now think that this chaplain himself was more than a little in awe of these reverend mothers. I held on tightly, and I did not roll. Actually, the archbishop was quite gentle.

As soon as we left the chapel, I was congratulated by our chaplain, by the mother in charge of the mothers who had trained us and by the superintendent of our school, who always turned up for such ceremonies. Although it did not enter my head at the time, I now think that I perhaps saved a couple of reverend persons from an embarrassing interview with an intelligent, powerful and very persistent archbishop. Actually, it was not the reverend mothers who had taught me the Seven Gifts of the Holy Ghost; it was my sister Ann. It can be difficult for even an archbishop to get to the bottom of things. Because he had treated us as boys rather than as “the blind,” we boys liked this archbishop and, among ourselves, used to refer to him as “Old Archie.”

Although I am not of it, it pleases me to remember that I once distinguished myself favourably in my father’s church. That June, he came to Halifax to take me home for the summer holidays. We went down to the rectory so that he could thank the chaplain for having me Confirmed. He was met with a happy and grateful explanation as to how I had saved the day.

Dad formed the habit of taking his holidays in September so that he could travel to Halifax with me when I returned to school. He would remain in Halifax for a few days, and he would take me out to dinner every evening. When he returned me to the School, the male teachers would invite him into their sittingroom. There he met the principal of the Literary Department, Dr. S. R. Hussey, and the head of the Music Department, Mr. J. C. Williston, both of whom were totally blind. Years later, he told me that meeting these gentlemen had given him new ideas concerning my future. I am sure that he never gave up his prayerful hope for a miracle. But it had occurred to him that after I finished school, if I was still blind, he could set me up in a little candy store. He had heard of a blind man who had run a little candy store successfully. His meetings in the male teachers’ sitting-room had widened his ambitions for me. I am sure that, had he mentioned these ambitions there, he would not have been discouraged.

I had thought that my “own kind” would, like me, be totally blind. But I found out that, with the aid of glasses, many of my classmates could read print. Early in the War, two of them got into the Merchant Navy and one into the Army. Having attempted to wrestle Art in the gym, I am sure the Army made a wise decision in placing him in the Provost Corps. He spent his war keeping law and order in Halifax, no easy task at that time. A few of my school friends were able to get driver’s licenses, and, as far as I know, they have had good driving records. Probably more than half of our pupils were legally blind, but a large proportion of them had some sight. Our sight-saving students had the advantages of small classes, close blackboards, large print textbooks and good lighting. Furthermore, in Halifax they were able to receive ophthalmological and other medical treatment that would not have been available to them in most other places in the Atlantic Provinces. In some cases, there was a significant improvement in their sight while these students attended the school. Government grants were on a per student basis. A larger enrolment permitted certain economies of scale to be effected. Especially in the upper grades, classes tended to be quite small. There were only six of us in my graduating class, and I was the only Braille-using student. I believe that two of us were able to obtain licenses to drive a car. Our school offered education in music, domestic science and crafts, opportunities not widely available in rural schools at that time. Our superintendent and his wife spent their summers travelling about the Maritime Provinces visiting the homes of children who might be candidates for enrolment at our school. They were able to acquaint parents with the advantages for their children of attending the school. It seems likely that a substantial number of our students had normal sight when corrected with glasses.

Although our school was segregated from the
wider community, within the School itself there was a good deal of integration between blind and sighted people. While most of our teachers were fully sighted, some, especially in the Music Department, were totally blind. The principal of the Literary Department, the head of the Music Department and the head of the Industrial Department were all totally blind. These gentlemen were valuable role models. I grew up knowing that a blind man could earn his own living because these blind men were doing it. In such a school a blind student learned to know his limitations, but he
did not learn to have an overall sense of inferiority. Reading and Writing were, of course, taught separately to Braille-using and print -using children. But for all other subjects, including Mathematics, Science and Physical Education, we were taught in the same classes. Thus, regardless of our level of vision, we grew up free from the hangups about lack of sight that are so common in the wider community.

We students differed widely not only in our sight but also in our backgrounds. I remember one year when I slept in a dormitory with eight other boys from families in widely different circumstances. I was in the centre bed, and on my left was Leslie, a quiet and very religious boy whose father was a deacon in a church that met the spiritual and many other needs of its black congregation. Russel, on my right, spent much of his summer vacation getting to and returning from somewhere on the Labrador, where his family lived in a tent in the summertime and in an igloo in the wintertime. Camille, on Russel’s right, entered our school speaking no English at all. The other French-speaking boys were discouraged from speaking to him in French so that he would learn English more quickly. Unable to see his way to the toilet, the bathroom, the dining-room or the classroom, and unable to ask his way in French, he soon learned English. Indeed, he learned English so thoroughly that when he returned to the farm the following summer, for several days he could not speak to his family in French, and they could not speak to him in English. Surely this was a rather high price to have to pay for an education in English. Next to Camille was Gerald. He had arrived from a Newfoundland outport speaking English, the English of about the time of the publication of the King James version of the Bible. Eventually, Gerald took aboard modern English words and expressions and substituted them for his seventeenth-century English–most of the time. But he never lost his wonderful Outport accent. All the men and older boys in his outport fished for a living. When the fishing was bad, the people did well to survive. Gerald had lost a brother and two uncles to the sea. Ronaldo slept next to Gerald. He had entered our school speaking his English with a marked Italian accent. In one of our readers there were several poems written by a person called “Unknown.” At the end of his reading, Ronaldo would announce proudly that the poem had been written by “Unkanownee.” He came from a company mining town in Cape Breton called Dominion Number Six. One day Ronaldo’s dad was killed while working in the mine deep under Dominion Number Six. We grew up knowing that earning a living could be a dangerous business. On Leslie’s left was Albert. His father was a wealthy businessman. He was the only boy whose parents could afford to phone him from time to time. Albert had an accordion, which he played well. He also had a battery radio. At night he would sometimes lend us an earphone so that we could listen to the American stations. Next to Albert was Buck. He had come to us from the “reform school” because, no matter how much they beat him, he still couldn’t see well enough to read the blackboard. Buck had been sent to the “reform school” for his part in burning down a barn. He was the sort of boy who would get caught. Buck was as proud of his dad as any of us. But he did not know what his dad did for a living. He had not been home for years. Buck thought that he had to live in a place called Dorchester. (In those days, being sent to Dorchester was synonymous with being sent to the penitentiary in Dorchester, N.B.) Next to Buck was George, who slept by the window. One night George went walking in his sleep and fell out of that window and broke his arm. The newspapers made quite an issue of the accident. Our superintendent explained to us that what had happened to George could have happened to anybody. But there were those on the outside who said that all the windows of the “blind school” should have bars. They did not prevail. Although we had to remain in what we sometimes called “the braille jail,” we did not have to go behind bars. One of the former inmates in that dormitory is now a member of the Order of Canada. I wonder which one. It isn’t me.

Our boys’ supervisor was a very large man with a military bearing who could well have passed for a prison guard.
The school nurse had warned my mother that, once they reach their teens, blind boys require a very firm hand. Such a hand was provided in the person of this x-drill sergeant, who stood six feet three inches and weighed two hundred and twenty pounds. Among ourselves, we called him “Old Roar.” We marched everywhere. He loved to bellow military commands at us and to prophesy that “you may have broken your mother’s heart, but you won’t break mine.” He harangued us concerning our short-comings, and There were frequent references to boys who lacked the brains that “God gave geese.” He christened some of us with names that he thought more appropriate than our own names. He almost always referred to us by our last names. My name he thought sufficiently humorous in itself, especially when pronounced with a drawl and a sounded “h.” A boy named Bernard received more than his share of the x-drill sergeant’s attention. In order to improve Bernard’s table manners, from the front of the dining-room he would shout, “Barnyard, get your front feet out of the trough.” Up until the time he was thirteen, Bernard was a model citizen. But that summer he got hooked on cigarettes. Thereafter, from time to time he did feel the firm hand of the former drill sergeant. On one occasion, however, Bernard did escape the rod of correction. One winter evening the former drill sergeant was looking out the window at a snow fort we had just built in the playground. He spied a thin column of smoke rising from its chimney. On investigation, he discovered its source, Bernard. It was Fire Prevention Week. Old Roar had a sense of humour after all. That is why, although we feared him, we did not hate him.

At the public executions carried out in our gymnasium, Bernard had to kiss the gunner’s daughter at fairly regular intervals. We returned to school in September. Before Thanksgiving, he would have been caught smoking, flogged and confined to barracks for the remainder of the term. After Christmas, Bernard was able to make a fresh start. Nevertheless, unless Pancake Tuesday came very early, he would again have been caught, and the same punishments would have been imposed. He fared no better after Easter. But one spring, he had completed Grade Ten and was looking forward to returning for his final year. As he would turn eighteen during the summer vacation, he would be permitted to smoke. But he had also exhausted his seven years’ education allowance, and no additional year was forthcoming.

But at home he was befriended by members of a fundamentalist religion, who were strongly opposed to the use of tobacco. Bernard joined their church and gave up the evil weed. Furthermore, he now condemned smoking by others with all the ardor of the newly converted. The CNIB gave him a job running a vending stand in the City Hall in Halifax. He would sell cigarettes to men, without enthusiasm, but also without comment. With young women the case was quite different. His church had provided Bernard with biblical passages in Braille that discouraged smoking. He was therefore in a position to discourage these young women with passages from both the New and Old Testament, which he did with all the zeal of a Bernard of Clairvaux. Eventually, the CNIB had to fire him, and he had to go on welfare. But I believe he continued faithful to his new beliefs. It would appear that, in Bernard’s case, the pen was mightier than the sword. But the harsh discipline and the rigid doctrine to which he had been exposed were not such as to induce moderate views.

We did have some contacts with the world outside. Most of our teachers lived in the institution, but a few lived out in the city. There were also a few day pupils. Abey was such a pupil. We thought he knew a lot about the world outside.

We had a fine teacher for Braille reading and writing. As she used Braille in her daily life, she served as a role model for us. I cannot remember her ever punishing anybody. She didn’t have to. We knew that she was not a person to be trifled with. Abey was the only boy who ever managed to get around her. As we had our Braille reading lesson the first period of the day, Abey should have arrived from home by 9 o’clock. He never did. About half past the hour there would be a gentle knocking on the classroom door.
“Good morning, Miss Campbell.”
Good morning, Abey. You are late.”
“I was looking for my shoes, Miss Campbell.”
“But, Abey, why didn’t you wear the other ones?”
“Miss Campbell, those were the ones I was looking for.”
“Oh, Abey, take your seat.”

Although I didn’t realize it at the time, this strong, independent woman introduced me to Women’s Lib. In our reader there was a poem about sunbeams to one of whose stanzas she took strong exception. The Superintendent was in the habit of conducting tours of the school for important persons such as clergymen, businessmen and politicians. Our Braille reading class was one of his favourite points of interest. Our teacher warned us of the dire consequences that would follow (unspecified) if any of us ever dared to read this dreadful stanza to the Superintendent and his guests. As I sat next to the door, I was often the boy asked to read on these important occasions. My classmates offered me powerful bribes to read the forbidden stanza during the next visitation. I was to receive a somewhat sprained mouth organ, a pair of bones (for musical accompaniment), a bagful of marbles and even a few ball bearings. It was possibly just as well for me that we had finished that reader before the Superintendent and his guests next visited our classroom. The temptation that was thus removed from me ran as follows:
And one (sunbeam), where a little blind girl sat alone,
Not sharing the mirth of her playmates,
Shone on eyes that should ne’er see the light
‘Til angels should lift up the veil.
I saw nothing wrong with this stanza. I wasn’t a girl. I am sure that our teacher of Braille had not been the sort of girl who would wait for angels, or anybody else, to permit her to go out to make friends and have a good time.

Actually, we had girl pupils. Apparently this circumstance had much troubled those who had established our school and its rules. Their fears were reflected in the very architecture of the place. Between the girls’ residence and the boys’ residence, there were not one but two sets of fire doors. On the dormitory floors, these doors were kept locked twenty-four hours a day. We once had an assistant nurse whose duties sometimes required her to pass through one of these fire doors. A forgetful soul, she occasionally neglected to lock the fire door behind her. She did not long remain with us. We ate in separate dining-rooms, and the girls’ playground was fenced off from ours. In the school building, each classroom had doors that were at opposite ends of the room and at right-angles to each other. Boys and girls used separate doors. We sat at parallel tables, and the teacher either sat at the cross table or stood at the entrance to the horseshoe. It would appear that those who made these arrangements believed in the Euclidian proposition that parallel lines never meet. Boys and girls were forbidden to speak to one another, even in the presence of a teacher. An exception was made in the case of dialogue in plays, but even this exception was frowned upon by certain older members of the staff.

In 1939 a new wing was added to our school. Here, each classroom had only one door. Boys and girls had therefore to use the same door, but, of course, never at the same time. The winds of change were beginning to blow–but gently.

But nature will out. Billy Smith was an ambitious lad. On the train on his way back to school he met and became interested in Mary Smith. Mary was coming to the school for the first time. On our first day back, in the early evening, Billy strolled over to the residence of girls and knocked on the door of the supervisor of girls.
What do you want, young man?”
“Please, Miss Lockhard, I would like to see Mary Smith.”
“And what is your name, young man?”
“Billy Smith, Miss Lockhard.”
“Very well, Billy Smith. Wait on the bench.”
Brothers and sisters were permitted to visit with one another once each day on a bench in the main corridor and close to the superintendent’s office. For several days, Billy Smith went on paying daily visits to Mary Smith. But there came an evening when the superintendent was working late. Even the Smiths of this world should not expect to be able to fool all of the people all of the time.

Despite the best efforts of those set in authority over us to prevent girls and boys from forming attachments, several of my classmates married girls who were at the school when we were there. And I know of no case where fears concerning inherited blindness have been justified. Some blindness can be inherited. But surely information about responsible sex would have been a better preparation for life after school than these not altogether effective taboos.

Girls were much more restricted than boys in making trips outside the school. Every afternoon, after dinner, girls went on a walk, as a group, with a teacher out in front and another teacher bringing up the rear. Once girls reached the age of eighteen, they were permitted an unsupervised afternoon visit to the local store in groups of two or more. But, should such girls be seen talking to boys, this privilege would be immediately cancelled.

Boys eleven and over were allowed to go out during the day in groups of two or more. Once a boy could get around safely in the streets, he was permitted to go out on his own, regardless of his level of sight. Boys fifteen and over were permitted to go out in the evening until 9:30–10 o’clock Saturday night.

Formal instruction in mobility and professional mobility instructors lay many years in the future. The younger boys learned how to get around from the example of the older boys. This way of learning must have been quite effective. I can remember only one accident. It happened to Roy and Eric. Being totally blind did not prevent them from being rather adventurous lads. One dark night they decided to play Dracula in Holy Cross Cemetery, which was across the street from our school. Having entered the cemetery by the gate, they separated and began to wander among the gravestones. After a time–and at about the same time–wishing they had not come, they sought to leave. They found a gravel path–the same path– and hoped that it would lead them back to the gate. they heard each other approaching.
But Eric did not know that it was Roy, and Roy did not know that it was Eric. Both feared that it might be Sir John Thompson (fourth prime minister of Canada) or one of the other permanent residents of the cemetery. There followed a mad scramble among the tombstones. Eventually, both found the gate and hobbled home. As they had scraped their shins rather badly, the attention of the school nurse was called for. That believer in the necessity of a firm hand over blind teen-aggers was not amused.

In my early teens I was becoming increasingly aware of people’s attitudes to pupils from the Halifax School for the Blind. Travelling home for Christmas, a number of us had to wait for the Saint John train in the station waiting-room in Moncton. When the train arrived, a railwayman lined us up and preceded us along the platform, ringing a large hand bell and shouting, “Make way for the blind! Make way for the blind! Make way for the blind!” This gentleman had missed his calling. He ought to have been the town crier. Although the platform was crowded with holiday travellers, people gave us a wide birth. We could hear them moving out of our way very quickly. We boys found this performance hilarious. But we knew that our parents would never understand, so we saved up our story for our Braille reading and writing teacher. She laughed with us. She understood.

Then there was the silent treatment. In my late teens I began to do my own banking. As soon as my cane was spotted, the buzz of conversation in the bank would cease. In the ensuing silence I would approach the counter, transact my business and leave. As I stepped into the street, the door being still open, I would hear conversation recommence. It seemed to me that I had the same effect on people as a passing funeral. This did not happen in nearby shops frequented by students from our school. But it did happen in places where people were unaccustomed to seeing us. I am glad to say that, with the passing years, most people have become more relaxed in the presence of a blind person. Incidentally, in the Atlantic Provinces at that time, we did not use the white cane because the white cane was associated with the tin cup. Later on, as pensions for needy blind adults became available and employment opportunities improved, the tin cup was encountered less frequently. Blind persons were therefore able to take advantage of the safety aspect of the white cane.

Even Establishment persons appeared to be suspicious of Braille. Our superintendent was a member of Rotary. Another boy and I were therefore taken along to a Rotary luncheon to read and write Braille for the edification of the members. The other boy was to do the writing, I the reading. I was therefore held in a room far away from the dining-room by two rotund Rotarians. I had to walk between them. They waddled as they walked. Their president dictated something to the other boy. He was then removed from the dining-room before I was allowed to enter. The dictation consisted of the 23rd Psalm. As I had learned “The Lord Is My Shepherd” in the choir, I had to be careful not to get ahead of myself, for I knew that the eyes of Rotary would be glued to my fingers. As I was lead from the dining-room, I could hear loud expressions of wonder and congratulation to our superintendent. It can be difficult for even Rotarians to get to the bottom of things.
That Rotarian luncheon had a wonderful aroma. We had missed our meal. So that we would not miss our first afternoon class, our superintendent had arrange for the janitor to drive us back to the school. On the way, Mr. Dillman bought each of us a chocolate bar.
When I was fourteen, a Boy Scout troop was formed at our school. Our scout master was a fine man and a former student at the school. Scouting gave us an opportunity to sometimes meet with boys our own age from other schools. From time to time we held joint meetings with other troops, and occasionally we went on hikes with them. I enjoyed the ritual of scouting and the challenges posed by various proficiency badges.

Men out in the city who were interested in scouting served as examiners for these badges. Most of these gentlemen took us seriously. The local fire chief certainly did. Several of us went to him to be examined for the Fireman’s badge. He asked us many questions about the detection and control of fires. We had to use a fire extinguisher to put out a fire he had set in the yard. We also had to slide down the pole in the fire station. He insisted that we try the Fireman’s Lift on him. HE MUST HAVE WEIGHED OVER TWO HUNDRED POUNDS.

But there was a young physician who was more interested in publicity than in proficiency. He came to our school to examine us for the St. John’s Ambulance badge for First Aid. Four of us had studied for several weeks to pass this examination. The physician expressed his disappointment that there were so few of us and INSISTED that the troop be assembled so that he could do all of us. His command was obeyed. He had a newspaper reporter and a cameraman in tow. There were to be photo opportunities. I think he asked each of us one very easy question. But most of the time was spent on the pictures. One boy was photographed holding a bandage; another boy was photographed holding a splint. There were several pictures of boys standing near a stretcher. I believe that the physician himself appeared in all of the pictures, several of which appeared in the local newspapers. We all passed. But we knew that nobody had passed. We formed a plan to deal with this situation. But it seemed to us that it would not be kind to possibly embarrass our fine scout master by telling him about it.
From time to time the local commissioner for scouting came to our school to present badges. Our school superintendent always turned up for these ceremonies. The night for the presentation of the St. John’s Ambulance badges was memorable. First, a number of other badges were presented to members of the troop who had earned them. Finally, the first scout to be presented with the badge for First Aid was commanded to step forward. He did so, came smartly to attention and saluted the commissioner. The scout then said, “I am sorry, sir! But I have not earned this badge, sir!” He again saluted the commissioner and stepped back into line. This procedure was followed by each of the twenty members of the troop. Nothing was ever said to us about this incident. Nevertheless, a few weeks later, the four of us who had studied for the St. John’s Ambulance badge went to the office of an established physician. This time, we certainly earned our badges.

Eventually, I earned so many proficiency badges that I became a king’s scout. Hearing of this, a newspaper reporter did some research and found out that I was the first blind person in the world to have become a king’s scout. The local newspapers wrote up the event in exaggerated language, and their stories were copied by a number of papers in Canada and the United States. I got some practice in dealing with reporters. At that time, newsmen tended to think of any accomplishment by a blind person as being either a miracle or a trick. Almost certainly the second blind person in the world to become a king’s scout was a member of my own patrol, Gerald from the Newfoundland outport. Unfortunately, he received no press coverage at all.

At the beginning of my final year at the school, I approached my piano tuning instructor with a serious question. “Mr. Haydon,
do you think I shall be able to finish high school and also gain my tuning certificate?” He was a kind man, so he replied, very slowly and deliberately, “Yes, Edmund, yes, I think we could make a tuner out of you.” He was also a truthful man, so he then added, very quickly, “But it would take a very long time.”
I had thought that I had made some progress in tuning a piano, at least in respect of the upper reaches of the instrument. But, upon mature reflection, I had to agree that his cautious forecast had some merit. In order to bring a piano string to its proper pitch, you have to apply a tuning hammer to the upper pin holding the string. To raise the pitch, you must put more pressure on the string by turning the hammer clockwise. But if you place too much pressure on the string, it will break. When it snaps, a bass string makes a marvellous reverberation inside a piano. I should know, for I wreaked havoc on the inventory of bass strings. After such an accident, I would have to approach my instructor with a request for another bass string. He would sigh as he handed me one. I experienced no difficulty in attaching the string to the pins. But, as I brought the string up to pitch, the old madness would come over me.

I gave up my piano lessons at the same time as my tuning instruction. No doubt the Music Department breathed a collective sigh of relief. But I have never regretted my tuning instruction and piano lessons. MY ATTEMPTS TO TUNE AND REPAIR PIANOS TAUGHT me RESPECT FOR THOSE WHO EARN A LIVING THROUGH THE SKILFUL USE OF THEIR HANDS. The piano lessons not only taught me to respect musicians but also gave me an appreciation of music that I doubt I could have gained just by listening to music. I thought my piano teacher quite elderly though, truth to tell, he was then several years younger than I now am. Having decided that the world would not be thereby deprived of another Schnabel, about a half hour into the lesson Mr. Williston would invite me to abandon the piano and to come over to sit with him at the table. He loved to reminisce about the old days at the school and, in particular, about the time when he was its band master. Around the turn of the century, a concert party from the school used to tour the Maritime Provinces each summer. His band was, of course, a most important component of this concert party.

No army can resist the strength of an idea whose time has come.
–Victor Hugo

The touring concert party was the brain child of Sir Frederick Fraser. A graduate of the Perkins Institution, Sir Frederick was our superintendent for fifty years, from almost the beginning of the institution until his retirement in 1923. Our school had been educating blind children since 1871. In the early years, its operation was financed entirely by private charity. It was not called a school but an asylum. (Statutes of Nova Scotia, 1867) a map of Halifax in the 1870’s shows the “Blind Asylum” and also the “Deaf Asylum” and the “Poor Asylum.” But eventually, governments did provide per pupil grants, and the institution became recognized officially as a school. In the 1890’s, legislation was amended to provide for the admission to the school of children from the age of six instead of from the age of ten. Sight-saving students were also admitted. There was therefore a very rapid increase in the enrolment. Three of the school’s five wings were opened between 1891 and 1904. But government grants were insufficient to meet the school’s expansion needs as well as its operating needs. Around 1900, the institution was very short of funds. Politicians had been telling Sir Frederick that, being enlightened men, they recognized that “the blind” were educable. But the voters would never accept it. According to my piano teacher, eventually, Sir Frederick had said, “You leave the voters to me.”

The concert party consisted of some senior students, a few teachers and, of course, Sir Frederick. It would enter a town or village by train and, of a summer evening, set up in the square, near the fire hall or wherever people gathered. There would be vocal and instrumental music followed by a brief speech from Sir Frederick. He would tell his audience that the school had been educating blind students to become useful members of their communities. This was no idle boast. According to the school’s calendar for 1902, 80 percent of its graduates were gainfully employed. Many more blind children remained to be educated. But they could not be educated without more funds. If his audience had enjoyed the concert, would they please tell their members of parliament that they had been entertained by blind musicians from the Halifax School for the Blind.

At that time, before television, before the radio and even before regular showings of silent moving pictures, these towns and villages received little entertainment from the outside. The music and Sir Frederick were successful in spreading the politicians’ enlightenment to the voters. In response to pressure from these voters, the politicians saw to it that more funds were forthcoming.

I remember thinking that the students who had given up their summer holidays to provide concerts must have believed that education was important. without their sacrifices, perhaps I would never have been able to get an education. I would never again take my education for granted. Years later, I would come to realize that I had been taught by a very shrewd piano teacher.

The effects of the depression of the 1930’s were borne in on even children in a residential school. I can remember a teacher explaining to us that our milk had to be mixed with water because the school was poor. As the depression deepened, more and more children could not go home for Christmas because their parents could not afford the rail fare. My father was able to keep his job, so I was always able to go home for Christmas.

Following that dominion’s financial collapse, Children from Newfoundland were unable to attend our school for several years. One boy who had to leave school at age twelve returned seven years later, well over six feet tall and fresh out of the dory. He had missed so much time that he had to fit his large self into Grade Six. This seemed not to bother him at all, but it did embarrass some of the female teachers. He had the charming habit of calling all women “dear.”
“No, Patrick, you must call me Miss Brown.”
“YES, MISS Brown dear.”

One cold winter night, when I was home for Christmas, Sergeant Sullivan came to our kitchen door. I gathered that this was by no means the first time he had come there. There was a family in the neighbourhood with many children but with absolutely nothing in the house to eat. Mother took a large box and placed in it meat, potatoes, home-made bread, sugar, tea, and milk. Then, saying that a family in that situation needed a treat, she added a dozen cookies and a dozen doughnuts. Even children whose fathers kept their jobs and mothers who believed in “bread and roses” knew something of the hardships of the depression.

Sir Frederick Fraser’s policy of reaching out to acquaint the wider community with our activities was still alive and well at the school when I was there. All year we practised in the gym for an exhibition of gymnastics put on each May. These exhibitions were well attended by the public. Old Roar, the x-drill sergeant, was an excellent gym instructor and a fine showman. Our closing exercises, held each June, featured a good deal of both vocal and instrumental music. On both occasions, the main corridor leading to the auditorium would be lined with exhibits of our hand work. There would be girls’ sewing and knitting and boys’ woodwork and chair seating (not mine). I believe these efforts were successful in causing many residents of Halifax to be proud to have our school in their midst.

There was also some reaching in to us, but of a rather special kind. Most of the maids at our school were girls in their late teens or early twenties. In wartime Halifax, these girls were very popular with servicemen. I earned some spending money by tending the door and answering the telephone in the evenings. In the early part of the evening, my main work would consist of going to the maids’ quarters to inform one of these girls of the presence in the library of her soldier or sailor. I found it advisable to seat the sailor in the library and shut the door because my call for the girl would often be answered by a loud-voiced “Ed, you know damn well she’s just gone out with her soldier.” When I reported to the sailor that his friend was not in, his reply was sometimes rather salty.

We senior students were about the same age as the younger maids. The taboos pertaining to girl students did not extend-at least with full rigour–to these girls. These warm-hearted, generous young women did not confine their interest to those on the outside. After all, we had the advantage of being handy.

There were other circumstances that called for the diplomatic touch. Some of the older boys would call for girls from outside pay phones. I would therefore have to go to the duty room of the supervisor of girls to announce that Mary was wanted on the phone. In spite of the success of Billy Smith, it should not be thought that this guardian was naive.
“Man, woman or child?”
“The line is rather noisy this evening, Miss Lockard.” Suspicious, she would come to the phone herself. As soon as she spoke, the line would go dead. “Bad line, Miss Lockard.”

At about the time I entered high school, I began to think of the possibility of going on to university. I came to realize that, unlike my teachers at the school, my professors would not be able to read Braille. I would therefore have to learn to type in print so that they could read my term papers and exams.
At the beginning of grade nine, I approached our superintendent with a request to be taught to type. “Yes, lad, I shall look into it.” I made the same request at the beginning of grade ten and received the same promise. At the beginning of grade eleven, having received the required financing for an additional year, I was now sure that I would be able to complete high school. I was therefore a little more persistent. I explained to the superintendent that I would need to be able to type so that my college professors could read my term papers and examinations. “Lad, I want to find somebody who will be able to instruct you well. Leave it with me. I shall look into it.” After a month had passed without my hearing anything from the Superintendent, I decided that I would have to teach myself to type.

As I was earning some spending money by printing the school’s Braille textbooks, I had the key to the printing office. There I found an ancient typewriter and an old typing instruction book in Braille. Early every evening, the superintendent walked from his office at the north end of the institution to a door at the south end that led through the garden to his home. The corridor he walked along had internal windows, so he was able to see what was going on in the classrooms. I stationed myself in one of these classrooms along with the ancient typewriter, the old typing instruction book and some typing paper. I commenced to teach myself to type. He came along the corridor on schedule. He did not slacken his pace as he passed my room. But the next morning he called me to his office and told me that his secretary would be providing typing lessons for me and several other students. Nothing was said about the activity of the previous evening.

His secretary taught us very well indeed. Realizing that we would not be able to check our own work, she insisted on accuracy. I once skipped a letter on the bottom line of the second page of a two-page report. I had to do the entire report again.

Ever the public relations man, our superintendent doubtless realized that I would teach myself to type–badly, and that my poor typing would reflect badly on his school. The ability to communicate with sighted people in print is so important to a blind person that I am happy to have played some part in the restoration of a typing course.

Sir Frederick Fraser had introduced a typing course in 1912, but it had been discontinued somewhere along the way. Actually, typing may have been taught to some students at an earlier date. A graduate of the school, Charles McInnis, entered Oxford in 1910 and was lecturing at Bristol University in England during the First World War. He volunteered to go to France to type letters home for alliterate soldiers during rest periods behind the line. To Charles McInnis and other blind people in the early years of this century, the typewriter must have meant a new opportunity to take a step forward in communications, as the computer, modem, printer and scanner have been in the later years of the century.

Life on the Outside

My brother Joe had attended St. Mary’s University in Halifax. I got it into my head that it would be pleasant to follow Joe in this matter. I inquired as to whether I could enrol at this university, but I was told that they had no facilities for training “the blind.”

In October, 1943 I entered Dalhousie University. Students from our school had been attending Dalhousie from before the beginning of the century. I therefore had no difficulty entering and being accepted at this university. Our professors knew that we were prepared to integrate ourselves fully into university life and that we required no special facilities. But there was one feature of university life that caused me no little embarrassment. There were girls. And these ones, if they met you on your way to class, expected to walk along with you. They even sat next to you in the classroom. The separate doors, parallel tables and no-speak of the Halifax School for the Blind had hardly prepared me for such intimacies. I was painfully aware of my lack of the social graces. But, gradually, I came to find these new ways rather pleasant. To summon up the courage to ask one of these girls to go out to dinner was quite another matter. Nevertheless, in the fullness of time, even this feat was accomplished.

When I entered Dalhousie, I was hardly in a position to ask anybody to dinner. Except for special days such as Thanksgiving, Christmas, Pancake Tuesday and Easter Sunday, meals at the school never varied. I can still recite the twenty-one meals a week. Suffice it to say that Tuesday breakfast consisted of tepid cream of wheat porridge followed by cold liver, and that breakfast on Thursday and Sunday mornings featured tepid oatmeal porridge followed by cold beans. Beans were served cold on those mornings because beans had been served more or less warm the previous Wednesday and Saturday evenings. When I went to a restaurant with my college friends, I did not know what to order, even after the menu had been read to me. What was French toast, English muffin, Irish coffee? To hide my ignorance, I adopted the practice of always ordering what the person just before me had ordered. I had a friend from Lunenburg County who just
loved blood pudding. I followed Hans in this particular only once. It took me some time to develop a vocabulary of food names that would permit me to order on my own.

At age fifteen the school provided us with forks, but we were never entrusted with knives. Mother had taught me how to use a knife and fork before I went to school. But during the subsequent years of cutlery deprivation her instruction had gone by the board. In such matters, a sighted person can learn by watching what others do; a blind person cannot. Nevertheless, with the help of some kind friends, I did regain at age twenty the proficiency in handling cutlery I had enjoyed at age eight.

My parents being teetotal, I knew nothing at all about the names of alcoholic beverages. Here too, I hid my ignorance by ordering what the person before me had ordered. A fair amount of empirical research was required to enable me to build up a vocabulary of names of drinks that would pass muster in the taverns of Halifax.

We had no soft chairs at the school, and the x-drill sergeant insisted that we sit bolt upright on the hard chairs we had. When invited to friends’ homes, I found sitting in easy chairs quite uncomfortable. Chesterfields were even worse. But I found out that in such homes the x-drill sergeant’s commandment against “slouching” did not apply. Furthermore, the presence of a charming companion would somehow make slouching more bearable. The rules of this new world were quite different from those of the Halifax School for the Blind.

At the school all our floors were bare. I now had to accustom myself to walking on carpets. When you walk across an uncarpeted floor, your walking causes echoes, which, to a totally blind person, can be important navigational aids. I now had to learn from experience where furniture was likely to be located in a carpeted room. The rooms in our school residences were but sparsely furnished. I also came to realize that sounds other than those of walking can be useful in orientation. You can snap your fingers to make an echo. The sounds coming from clocks, radios and people talking can be useful guides. Open doors and windows often provide helpful sounds from outside the room. Experience is an effective if At times a stern teacher.

At the school, bells ad ruled our waking hours. At a quarter to seven in the morning a bell woke us up so that we could have the pleasure of going to the gym for calisthenics, running and a cold shower. During the winter months there were, however, usually a few mornings when we were not able to enjoy the cold shower. Those were the mornings when the water had frozen in the pipes. Bells sent us to meals, classes, recreation and bed. We had few choices as to what to do with our time. Although I was now a part-time teacher at the school, what I did with my time was very much my own responsibility. At Dalhousie class attendance was not compulsory; Christmas and end-of-year exams were. Those were our times of reckoning. But the heavy schedule of the Halifax School for the Blind had instilled in me the habit of keeping busy, and this habit did not desert me. Still, it took me some time to learn how to manage time.

As I had been travelling on my own for years, I had no difficulty going to and from the university. But blindness does have its pitfalls and its snares. At Dalhousie we went to the public health Clinic for our annual medical checkup. As I had never been to this clinic on my own, when it came my turn to go, I asked a fellow student where the clinic was. He gave me the location but did not tell me what was next door. I entered a building and told the receptionist that I had an appointment for 4 o’clock. She asked me whether it was an emergency. I said no, but I insisted that I had a medical appointment. She asked me whether I got sick in the morning. Now that I was a college student and no longer had to take a cold shower, I felt just fine in the morning. She next inquired as to how far advanced I was. Well, I was only a Freshman. Finally, she told me that I was in the Grace Maternity Hospital. Probably she thought this was a lark and part of my initiation. In the future, I would give the Grace a wide birth and never give myself the occasion to have to go there.

There are perhaps no days of our childhood we lived so fully as those we spent with a favourite book. –Marcel Proust

Miss Campbell, our teacher of Braille, had seen to it that I became not only a proficient Braille reader but also a person who loved to read Braille. We had a good Braille library at the school, and I passed many happy hours reading its books. I now began to read from the CNIB library in Toronto.

But virtually none of the books I needed for my courses at Dalhousie was available to me in Braille from either the school or the CNIB library. The girls of the Junior League of Halifax did most of my college reading. They were good and faithful readers, and some of them read to me all six years that I was a student at the university. Fellow students and personal friends also helped me with my reading.

Reading furnishes the mind with the materials of knowledge; thinking makes what we read ours.
John Locke

Occasionally, I took notes on a Braille writer, but this was time consuming. As there would be time for only one reading of course material, I had to remember what was important in what had been read to me. I had a ph.d. before I had a tape recorder. This was not altogether a bad thing. I had to develop the ability to decide quickly what was important and what was not. Although my reading time was limited, my thinking time was not. Walking to and from the university and at other times, I cultivated the habit of thinking over what had been read to me and what I had heard in lectures. I was therefore able to gain a depth of understanding of the course material that might have escaped me had I had more time to read but had thought less. Literacy is essential for material and social success in the modern world. Yet I can understand why Plato was concerned by the prospect of the spreading of literacy on the ground that it would dull memory. Using a stylus, I took lecture notes on a Braille slate. To avoid annoying my fellow students with the sound of my writing, I used the thin pages of a scribbler. Later in the day, I would expand these notes and write them out on a Braille writer. I now used Braille paper, which would stand up to many readings. This practice caused me to ask myself questions about what the lecturer had said that might not have occurred to me otherwise.

At the school I had received excellent training in mathematics. We were at first permitted to use tactile diagrams in geometry class. But our teacher soon let us know that to make real progress in geometry, we would have to learn to hold in the mind geometric shapes and reason about their relationships and properties. It was hard to rebel against this way of doing things because our teacher, being blind, was asking us to do nothing that he was not doing himself. He also showed us how to do mental algebra. The writing out in Braille of algebraic equations was sometimes cumbersome on account of the limited space available on a Braille writer. Today, using a computer spreadsheet such as Lotus 1-2-3, this is no longer a problem. Yet mental algebra still comes in handy in such places as the supermarket. I have been known to straighten out cashiers who had inadvertently keyed in wrong numbers. I have heard university professors proclaim that “the blind” cannot be expected to do mathematics. I and other graduates of the Halifax School for the Blind did university mathematics and received good marks. At Dalhousie we had two excellent professors of mathematics. One used to speak the equations as he wrote them on the board; the other did not. I always took the courses given by the talking professor.

I had also received excellent instruction in physics and chemistry. In a class of only six students, I was able to obtain a hands-on knowledge of the experiments that I doubt I would have gained in a large class in a public school. At Dalhousie there was a certain mutual disdain between the professors of the Arts Faculty and of the Science and Engineering Faculty. I can remember a professor of English declaring that he would not teach “bastard English to engineers.” He always commenced first year English with an examination of the story of Baowulf, written in Early English. First year English was a compulsory course for everybody, including engineers. A professor of engineering had had the temerity to suggest that engineering students needed something more practical, such as instruction in report and letter writing. For their part, the science professors insisted that Arts students follow the same initial courses as those who were to become scientists. Chemistry One was considered to be particularly rigorous. But, owing to the fine training I had received at the school, I had no difficulty in passing this course. The professor of chemistry also was a talking professor. I was therefore able to follow the formulas he wrote out on the blackboard.

Nevertheless, today I would be able to participate more fully in the experiments than I was at that time. There are now chemistry sets designed to be used by blind as well as by sighted students. There are, for example, devices to measure weight and volume with synthetic speech output. A blind person can pour acids accurately and safely. You use a beaker with ridges around its inner circumference. Insert two electrodes down to the level to which you want the acid to rise. These electrodes are attached to a battery that activates a buzzer. When the acid in the beaker rises to the desired level, the electricity flows and the buzzer buzzes. But it is a good idea to pour slowly in order to be able to stop pouring as soon as the buzzer buzzes.

Slow pouring is also recommended with respect to such frothy liquids as beer. In a quiet room, liquids are easy to pour because you can judge when to stop from the change in the pitch of the sound as the glass fills. If the liquid is cold and the glass thin, you can also use your finger to be aware of the rising level of the liquid from the temperature of the glass. I once embarrassed inadvertently a very well intentioned gentleman from an organization called “Uniforms for the Blind,” who was giving a demonstration at a convention of the National Federation of the Blind. He was using a battery and buzzer to demonstrate how “the blind” could pour water safely. I suspect this gentleman would not have been at all in favour of blind people pouring beer. He asked me to pour water from a jug into a glass and I did so, stopping just before it was full. The embarrassment was that he had forgotten to attach the battery to the buzzer.

To understand history, you need to have a good knowledge of geography. My studies in history at the university were greatly benefited by the fact that the school had many tactile maps, both contour maps and two-dimensional maps. We also had a large tactile globe. Globes are very important in giving you the sense of living on the surface of a sphere. I could understand why our explorers had courted danger in order to find a North-West Passage to Asia. Years later, travelling between Toronto and London, England, I was not surprised when our plane touched down in Iceland. My seat mate, a well spoken man of about my own age, couldn’t understand why we didn’t go “straight across.” I think he must have studied all his geography on maps.

A few years ago I was invited to go to the Canada Map Office to examine some tactile maps the officials there had just produced. These officials believed that their new maps were the greatest thing since sliced bread. I had to tell them that, with one exception, their maps were the same as those that had been used to teach me geography at the Halifax School for the Blind more than a half-century earlier. The exception was an interesting one, especially for an economist. An official from Australia had brought with him a sheep map of that country. The density of sheep per square mile was shown by the density of dots on the map. Thus, one could obtain quickly an idea as to where in Australia sheep do safely graze. I have seen no similar maps for Canada pertaining to sheep or anything else.

Work in English, history, economics and political science required me to submit to my professors a great deal of written material. A compulsory course in English involved the writing of a theme of at least one thousand words every week. This would have been extremely difficult to accomplish had it not been for my ability to type, which I had found it necessary to be so persistent–some might say devious–in order to acquire.

At the school I had two fine teachers of English. They gave me a lifelong appreciation of English literature, both prose and poetry. They were also rigorous in their teaching of spelling, punctuation and formatting. Here Braille is an essential tool for the totally blind child. you cannot learn to write without being able to read. You cannot learn how to spell, punctuate or format by listening to live or recorded reading.

But one of these excellent teachers of English, being sighted, believed that a line of poetry must occupy a line on the page, no more and no less. As some poems have alternating long and short lines, it is difficult for the tactile Braille reader to read these poems smoothly. This is why standard Braille includes a poetry sign, which permits the filling up of the lines on the page. But this teacher would never allow us to use the poetry sign. We all have our limitations.

A short time ago, I was disturbed to read that a hospital in the United States had found it necessary to discontinue a course for medical secretaries it had been offering to blind students for many years. This hospital had built up a library of reference books in Braille, but the candidates for the course were no longer able to read Braille. Sound recordings could not teach these young people the spelling of medical terms required by a medical secretary. Integrated education, if undertaken without regard for the special needs of blind students, can in itself be a handicap.
The Halifax School for the Blind offered me a part-time teaching job in return for room and board. I taught a variety of subjects to children in different grades.
I continued to be responsible for the printing of the school’s textbooks in Braille, which brought in some cash. But I needed more money for university fees, books, clothing and spending money. As soon as I became twenty-one, I therefore applied for what was popularly known as the “blind pension.” The administration of this pension was such as to demonstrate that the spirit of the English Poor Law of 1834 was still alive and well and living in Nova Scotia. You received the princely sum of $30 a month and were permitted to obtain another $30 from other sources. If you were so unwise as to receive $31, your pension would be cut back to $29. It would then require a good deal of time and form filling to demonstrate that you had learned the error of your ways. In my case, one error sufficed. As my pension policeman was at pains to explain to me, “other sources” meant “all sources.” If I went home for Christmas, I was to report an amount for room and board received from my parents. I was also supposed to report the value of any Christmas presents I received. My pension policeman was one of the least attractive people I have ever encountered. He talked loudly, walked heavily and stank of beer. But no doubt he had served the Party well, and I was his reward. He made frequent visits to the school in an effort to catch me earning money I was not reporting. From the front door to my room, he saw to it that everybody he met knew why he was there. Then he had the charming habit of placing his large, sweaty paw on my shoulder and remarking suspiciously on the quality of the cloth in the suit I was wearing. He was determined to see to it that only those who desperately needed a pension received one. And, in my case at least, he was successful. I was able to do some extra teaching, win a few scholarships and get summer work that eventually enabled me to put the pension police behind me. But many were not so fortunate.

Welfare policy at that time, at least as it applied to blind people, was the opposite of workfare. Workfare requires you to work to prove your need for welfare. The welfare policy that I lived under was to maximize the disincentive to work.

I once met a blind man named Dave, who had supported his family throughout the depression of the 1930’s. At one time during this period, the bureaucrats in charge of welfare decided that those getting welfare must work for it. As Dave was at that time getting welfare, he turned out with the other men of the community. They were told to dig a long ditch. They were then told to fill it in. Dave swung his pick with the rest. He said that his fellow workers gave him lots of room in which to do it. Very prudent fellow workers! Dave was a big, strong man, who no doubt swung his pick mightily. When he told this story, most sighted people were scandalized because a blind man had been forced to work for his welfare. But Dave said that he had been proud and happy to support his family in that way. For once in his life, he felt that he was really one of the men of the community.

For all six years that I was a student at Dalhousie, I spent my summers working as a relief man for the CNIB in its vending stands. As I would take the place of each operator while he was on holidays, I often had to move from town to town every two or three weeks. I worked in a great variety of situations: hospitals, shipyards, sulphite plants, office buildings, city markets. Certain items, such as cigarettes, chocolate bars and soft drinks, were common to all locations. Other items were peculiar to the stand. For example, in the sulphite plants I sold a great deal of snuff because the men who worked in the digesters were not allowed to smoke. At the mental hospital, I was permitted to sell matches to the doctors but not to the patients. It was sometimes difficult to tell which was which. But I worked in that hospital all six years without mishap, so perhaps the patients were not so bent on setting fires as was feared.

Most of the stands I worked in had been constructed according to a plan drawn up by Mr. Joseph Klunk, an American who had come to Canada in the late 1920’s to assist the CNIB in setting up a vending stand program. Having been a blind vending stand worker himself, Mr. Klunk understood the needs of blind vending stand workers. On the counter of the stand there was a wooden receptacle for coins. Therefore, the operator did not have to search the counter for the customer’s money or search for the customer’s hand when returning change. The cash drawer had several wells, one for each denomination of coins. There was also a slot for bills of each of the smaller denominations. Coins presented no problem because they differed in size and because, while fifty-cent pieces, quarters and dimes had milled edges, the edges of nickels and pennies were plain. Almost all customers were honest with respect to bills. But if somebody with a shifty voice came along with a twenty-dollar bill for a penny packet of matches, I was sorry that I could not make change for the twenty, but the gentleman should be able to get the bill changed in the shop next door. The gentleman never returned, but I still had the matches. The showcases were sectioned off so that we could put each brand of cigarettes in a separate compartment. All light switches were up-and-down switches. We never used the rotary switch because it does not tell a blind person whether the lights are on or off.

One summer I worked in Montreal. Here I worked in stands that had been set up for veterans who had lost their sight as the result of war wounds. It was obvious that their stands had been constructed so as to showcase what the federal government had done for its blinded veterans. Only the most expensive woods were used. The showcases were spacious, the light fixtures elaborate. But these stands were much more difficult to work in than were the stands in the Maritimes. As the showcases were not sectioned, when reaching for a package of Players, we had to be careful not to knock over the column of Black Cat’s. As there were only rotary switches, a blind worker had to try to remember about the lights, and even a good memory was not good enough.

I arrived at a stand one morning expecting to be very busy during the rush hour. But 8:30 came and went without a single customer. This stand was located in an alcove off the main hall of a large office building. I walked out to the main entrance, where a commissionaire was on duty. He was surprised to see me. He said that, as the lights were off, everybody thought that I must be ill. Apparently the cleaners had inadvertently left the lights on. I would therefore have turned the lights off by trying to turn them on.

I very much enjoyed meeting and working with the veterans, but I did not enjoy working in their stands. I was glad when that summer’s work came to an end. Those veterans were fine young men trying hard to fit themselves into a difficult new life. They deserved the best. But the best is not necessarily the most showy and expensive.

Both in the Maritimes and in Montreal, the vast majority of customers were pleasant, and some were really helpful. But there were exceptions. There was the real estate lady who, ignoring the money box, insisted on spreading her coins all over the counter, saying, “You may now search.” I’m glad I was never her tenant. Then there was the difficult and demanding civil servant. We had to save many things for “His Excellency,” as the regular operator called him in private. There were papers and magazines; then there was his daily pint of milk. As he never identified himself when he picked up the things saved for him, it was difficult for a person new on the job to be sure that he had come and gone. When I was new on the job, I once failed to save his milk, and he was really quite nasty about it. He also had the habit of coming along in the evening just after we had locked up for the night and insisting that we open up to sell him a penny packet of matches. I met this gentleman at a federal-provincial conference about twenty years later. He, by then a deputy-minister, was representing his province, and I was representing the Atlantic Development Board. He was the most charming man at the conference. He was courteous to everybody, including me. I couldn’t help wondering whether he recognized the formerly young man who had failed to save his milk twenty years earlier.

My summer work for the CNIB had brought me in to contact with people from many walks of life who had lived through the depression of the 1930’s, and some of these people were prepared to talk about their experiences. I was led to contrast the labour surplus of those years with the labour shortage of the war years. I had taken economics in grade eleven, and I understood that Economics had something to do with explaining such contrasts. By the end of my second year at Dalhousie, I had passed all my compulsory subjects, so it was time to make choices for the future. I decided to specialize in economics, but not too narrowly too soon. I believed that to become good at applied economics, I would have to know quite a lot about other subjects, such as history, philosophy, political science and statistics. During my two final years of under-graduate work, while I followed several courses in economics, I also studied these other subjects .

It seemed to me that, following Dalhousie, it would be a fine thing to pursue my studies at Oxford in England. As I have already mentioned, a former student at the Halifax School for the Blind, Charles McInnis, had done just that, and he had later become Professor of Imperial History at Bristol University. But how could I obtain the financial support required to spend several years in England?

I applied for a Rhodes scholarship. A member of the scholarship committee, himself a Rhodes scholar, invited me to his office to discuss my application. He began by telling me that participation in athletics was necessary for a Rhodes scholar and that, being blind, I would not have been able to take part in athletics. I told him that I had been a member of the senior gym team in high school and that I had done some rowing at Dalhousie. Although I was BY NO MEANS an outstanding athlete, I had participated. In their literature, the Rhodes scholarship committee emphasized participation in athletics rather than outstanding performance. This gentleman then became frank with me, saying that even if I managed to swim the English Channel in both directions, his committee would not be favourably impressed. It was not what I could or could not do that bothered the committee; it was what I was–blind. The members of his committee did not believe that a blind man could properly represent Canadian youth in England. He went on to say that, given my academic record, the committee members were afraid that, if allowed to compete, I might win the scholarship. He and his committee were therefore not prepared to accept my application. I think they may have had reason to fear my academic record because, at our graduation, I shared the University Medal with a fine man who went on to become a Rhodes scholar. Nevertheless, I did appreciate this man’s honesty. It did save me from wasting my time applying again.

According to a CNIB publication, recently a blind Canadian has won a Rhodes scholarship, the first blind Canadian to do so. It is a half-century–fifty-one years to be exact–since the Rhodes scholarship committee for Nova Scotia refused to accept my application to become a candidate for a Rhodes scholarship. This young man deserves much credit. I know it wasn’t easy. And progress is progress, even though maybe we have to measure it in geological time.

At the end of my senior year at Dalhousie, I was elected life president of our class, one of the finest honours I have ever received. The class of ’47 was no ordinary class. While some of us were in our early twenties (I was twenty-four), many of us had interrupted our studies to fight a war. These older students, with their varied experiences of life, had interests and views that were new to me. Many were resolved that the Canada of the future would be a more open and a more just country than the Canada in which they had grown up. Some had had very bad wartime experiences and wished to put those experiences well behind them. One day I was in an auditorium with a veteran, one of the kindest and gentlest men I have ever known. He wanted something that was on the stage, which must have been at least five and a half feet above the floor level. With one easy movement, he was standing On that stage. “Erney, how did you manage to do that?” I asked. He sounded a little embarrassed as he replied, “Oh, they taught me how to do that in the commandos.”

When I agreed to become life president of the graduating class, I little knew what awaited me. That spring, our convocation was attended by Field Marshall, Earl Alexander of Tunis, Governor-General of Canada, and by the Right Honourable Louis St. Laurent, soon to become Prime Minister of Canada. Both of these gentlemen graciously accepted our invitation to attend the convocation ball. It therefore became my duty to see to it that they were suitably entertained. Both proved to be extremely easy to entertain, but in quite different ways.

I escorted His Excellency to the table for members of the life executive and introduced them to him. There were two very attractive girls on that executive whom the Governor-General asked to dance. They danced with him and passed him around among the other girls of the graduating class. He had to dance all the time he was at the ball, but I don’t think he minded at all. The verdict was that he danced like a dream and that you would never guess that he was a field marshal, an earl or a governor-general.
“Uncle Louis,” as he later came to be known, passed himself around. I introduced to him a girl named Bauer, but he thought I had said Power. His dear wife, Blanche, had had a dear friend at the convent who came from the Maritimes and whose name was Power. Perhaps she was related to his dear wife’s dear friend. I don’t know whether Uncle Louis danced at all, but he circulated himself around the ballroom, impressing graduates with his urbane good manners and charm.

Before the end of my senior year, I had decided to read for a master’s degree in economics and political science. The breadth of my interest in the social sciences at this time is illustrated by the fact that while my thesis in economics was concerned with certain concepts in the writings of John Maynard Keynes, for political science I wrote a thesis on tyrannicide in medieval political thought.

I was able to continue to do part-time teaching at the Halifax School for the Blind. But I needed additional financial support. A fellow student mentioned that there was a scholarship posted on the bulletin board that might be of interest to me. It was called the Defoe Foundation scholarship, and it provided support for two years for a student doing master’s work in the social sciences. To apply for this scholarship, you had to obtain the written support of certain professors. I called on one of these professors to ask for his support. He told me that, now that I had found out about the scholarship, my academic standing was such that he would have to support me. He had not told me about the scholarship because he did not want to encourage me to become an economist. He knew of a blind man who had become a capable economist but who had never succeeded in getting a permanent job in the field. I was able to tell this professor that I too knew of a blind man who had become an economist. In the nineteenth century, Henry Fawcett had become Professor of Political Economy at Cambridge University and had also been Postmaster-General of Great Britain. It goes without saying that this professor had no obligation to tell me of the Defoe Foundation scholarship. Still, when dealing with blind students, one wishes that professors would not try to play God. They do no credit to themselves nor to the acting profession.

With respect to playing God towards blind students, I understand that sometimes things have been worse in recent years than they were fifty years ago. Several people have told me that a social worker prevented them from following a desired course of study because the social worker had decided that “the blind” just could not do it. One man, who had lost his sight in his early thirties and was therefore no longer able to continue as an artist, wanted to study computer science. But his social worker knew that the only thing a blind man could do was social work. To obtain a government grant, it was necessary for the student to have his social worker approve of his course of study. He therefore took a bachelor’s degree in social work and then a master’s degree in social work. Some ten years later, this man has never earned his living as a social worker. But he earns a very good living in the computer field. While he was studying to become a social worker, he did manage to sneak in a few courses in computer science. He also went to work part-time for a person who was assembling computers and fitting them with software. To get through college, I had to work both during the academic year and in the summertime. But I was able to choose my own career and the courses I would need to prepare myself for it.

I had not allowed the Rhodes scholarship committee to discourage me from pursuing my goal of doing post-graduate work in England. While I was reading for my m.a. degree, I applied for and won a Beaverbrook scholarship.

As my Beaverbrook scholarship was tenable at the University of London, I applied for a place in the Graduate Department of the London School of Economics, the LSE being a college in the University of London. The dean of the Graduate Department raised no objections concerning my academic qualifications, but he turned me down on the ground that I would not be able to look after myself. I took his letter to our family doctor, who had looked after me for six weeks in hospital while I was recovering from a ruptured appendix. Dr. Nugent had known me since I was three years old. He had seen me ride my tricycle, swim in Lily Lake, walk about the streets, as well as eat, dress and perform more private functions while in hospital. I therefore felt that he would be the professional person best qualified to reassure the dean concerning my ability to look after myself. Dr. Nugent was a very outspoken man, and I think that he was more than a little annoyed by this dean’s negative attitude. At any rate, he wrote the dean a forthright letter in which he described in great detail the manner in which I had perform various bodily functions. In the fullness of time, my application for admission was accepted by the Graduate Department of the LSE., and I heard no more from the dean about my ability to look after myself. One wishes that deans as well as professors and social workers would refrain from playing God.

It had taken so long to bring the dean around that I was not able to enter the LSE in the autumn of 1949 but had to wait until the autumn of 1950. For the academic year 1949-50,
I obtained a full-time position teaching in the high school of the Halifax School for the Blind. I taught economics, a subject in which I had obtained my master’s degree. I also taught history, one of the subjects in which I had specialized to get my bachelor’s degree with honours. Among my responsibilities was that of preparing the grade eleven students for their provincial school-leaving examinations in economics and history. They had to pass these examinations to enter university. They were good students who deserved to pass. They all did pass.

The institution in which I began to teach full-time in 1949 was quite different from the one from which I had been graduated six years earlier. There had been a number of staff changes including that of the superintendent. The winds of change were no longer blowing gently. Indeed, according to the old guard, they were blowing up a dangerous if not a disastrous storm. Girls and boys were now allowed to speak to one another. There was a social club for high school students–a mixed club–and frequently there was dancing. Naturally, there was some awkwardness at first.

One of the leaders of this revolution was a young teacher who was rather short of stature. One evening she found herself dancing with a very tall, very thin, very taciturn teen-agger. In an attempt to coax from him some pleasant if not gallant comment, she looked up at him saying, Richard, isn’t this a lovely dance we are having?” From a great height, Dick replied, “Well, at any rate, we are getting through with it.” I understand that this teen-agger went on to become a very enthusiastic and a very popular dance partner.

The fears of our elders that blindness would be thereby transmitted from generation unto generation have not materialized. Furthermore, these teen-aggers were being prepared to go out into a world whose ways they would better know and would be better able to cope with than I had been.

I also obtained a part-time position as a lecturer in economics at Dalhousie University. I enjoyed teaching and I think that, with experience, I might have become a tolerably good teacher. The best test of your knowledge and understanding of a subject is to try to teach it. Unless you understand something thoroughly, you cannot teach it convincingly.

At Dalhousie I taught labour economics to third and fourth year arts and commerce students. Some of them had fought in the War and were older than I was. They were not content to study theories;they wanted to see how those theories were applied to solve problems. In particular, they were curious about the working of the national employment service. I therefore arranged by phone for us to pay a visit to the Halifax branch of this service.

We were received courteously and taken on a tour of the various departments within the service. Our last stop was at the department that dealt with the employment of disabled people. In a fulsome voice, its manager began to tell us how successful his department had been in finding employment for “the disabled.” A number of former officers who had been disabled by war wounds had found profitable employment after his counselling. He must have then spotted my cane, for I could hear the self-assurance ebbing from his voice. He admitted that some of “the disabled” were more difficult to place than others, and some were very difficult indeed to place. Finally, he turned to me and said, “And you would be absolutely impossible to place.” Loud laughter from my students. It would have been fruitless to embarrass this gentleman by trying to explain. As this was the last department on our tour, we left. As the veterans were older than me and no doubt looked more mature, He may have taken me for a student. Then again he may have thought that the class had picked me up somewhere to test his ability to place “the disabled.” And some of those characters would have been capable of doing just that. Outside, we all laughed about what had happened. We also agreed that all of us had learned something about the National Employment Service that we hadn’t known before.

My father died while I was studying in England. I am glad that he knew that I had been able to obtain full-time employment. I believe that he understood that I would be able to support myself financially. This wasn’t the miracle he had prayed for. But it wasn’t a bad deal either. A practical as well as a spiritual man, Dad realized that, with the skills I already had, I would be able to make a life for myself. The year’s interruption of my studies caused by the dean’s fears was therefore not without meaning.

A License To Begin

One can never creep when one feels the impulse to soar.
–Helen Keller

In September, 1950 I boarded the Empress of France, bound from Montreal to Liverpool. I went aboard early to avoid detection by the ship’s officers. I thought this precaution necessary because I had been told that “the blind” were not permitted to travel on seagoing ships without an escort. While my scholarship included my fare to England, it did not include the fare of an escort. I went straight to my cabin and stayed there until we had cleared Father Point on the lower St. Lawrence. Once we had cleared Father Point, where the St. Lawrence river pilot was put ashore, I knew that, while I might end up in irons, I would end up in England. I therefore circulated freely among the other passengers. Apparently the ship’s officers decided to accept the inevitable by ignoring my unescorted presence. Indeed, one night I had a long and frank discussion with one of the mates. He was very angry at the people of Halifax for their treatment of seamen during the War. Although I admitted that conditions for seamen in crowded wartime Halifax had not always been pleasant, I remained a stoutly loyal Haligonian. Even that did not get me put in irons.

When the Empress of France docked in Liverpool, a number of newspaper reporters came aboard. A reporter from what turned out to be one of the more sensationalist tabloids interviewed me. He was very pleasant and seemed to be genuinely interested in my reasons for coming to England. Among other things, I told him that, in vacation time, I wanted to travel about to see something of England. The headline on the front page of the following morning’s paper read: “Blind m.a. says he wants to “see” England.” In fairness to the English press, I should say that on several subsequent occasions I was interviewed by reporters from less sensationalist papers and that none of them tried to exploit my blindness.

Arrived in London, I at first thought that I would have difficulty getting about in the metropolis. An English student who was blind told me that blind people were not permitted to travel on their own in the underground without a pass. To obtain this pass, you had to sign a paper promising never to sue the transportation authority if you had an accident in the underground, regardless of the cause of the accident. Thus, if there was a train collision that was the fault of the authority, while the injured sighted passengers could sue the authority, the injured blind passengers could not.

Although it was necessary for me to use the underground, I decided not to sign this odious paper. Instead, I would loiter in the hallway leading to the platform until a group of cheerful-sounding people came along. I would join this group and pass through the turnstile with them. After the train ride, I had no trouble at the exit because the guard assumed that I must have a pass to have been permitted to enter the underground. After a while, I became bold enough to pass through the turnstile on my own. Apparently, so long as I didn’t try to pay, the guard assumed that I had a pass.

I asked the student how this state of affairs had come about. He told me that in the year 1892, late one Saturday night, a gentleman had emerged from his pub, possibly the worse for drink, and had stumbled off the platform onto the tracks and had been killed by an in-coming train. The gentleman was blind. Authority responded to this accident with the infamous paper. Over the intervening years, the numbers of blind people using the underground had increased until, by 1950, thousands of blind people in the greater London area travelled in the underground each working day. Although, as far as was known, there had never been a second accident involving a blind person, that which was writ on paper was writ in stone.

Things were quite different in the Paris subway. There, disabled veterans had pride of place. Seats were reserved for them close to the car door. But other groups also participated in this arrangement. I believe that pregnant women and women with small children tied for second place, though there may have been some order of precedence between these two groups. But I am sure that not even a pregnant woman with small children could rank a disabled veteran. In any case, disabled civilians ranked forth, and, in my experience, fourth was quite good enough. During my two stays in Paris, I never had any trouble getting a seat. We who sat near the door were a motley and, with children crying, sometimes a rather noisy group. But nobody seemed to mind.

I obtained board and lodging at Passfield Hall, the LSE hall of residence. This residence was named for the Fabian, Sydney Webb, who was the first director of the school and who became Lord Passfield. As there were only about fifty residents, we came to know each other personally. Half of us were from England and Wales, and the other half were from overseas. There were students from Asia, Africa and the Caribbean as well as from Canada. We ranged in age from late teens to early forties, but most of us were in our twenties. There were both under-graduate and graduate students. Most of the Welsh students were zealous members of the Student Labour Party. There were several student lawyers. We therefore had some fine political arguments.

We were an experiment in student self-government. Final authority lay with the director of the school, but he used his power as little as possible. His representative in the residence was the warden. But the power of the purse lay with the bursar, a formidable former Women’s Royal Navy officer. We students held weekly house meetings at which matters of great moment were discussed, sometimes with more heat than light. One of the most eloquent speeches I have ever heard was given by a Welsh student who was reading for the bar. It was a scathing criticism of tomorrow night’s dinner. Food played an important role in our deliberations. One of our resolutions read: “This house prefers food that tastes good to food that is said to be good for it.”Actually, the food was fairly good. Meat, cooking fat, margarine, tea, sugar and chocolate were still rationed. But the rationing authority provided students’ hostels with extra rations, having defined us as “growing boys.” All were treated alike, including a professor on a sabbatical, aged forty-two. As the food was rather starchy, there was a danger of becoming a growing boy, if not vertically, at least laterally.

I was surprised to find that the British were still under food rationing. In Canada, rationing had ended with the War. In Britain, rationing was worse immediately after the War than it was during the War. So long as there was a war in Europe, the Americans were generous with their dollars for their gallant British allies. But, once the War was over, dollars were harder to get. But by the time I left Britain at the end of 1953, food was plentiful, and rationing was only a formality.

Shortly after my arrival, I was elected chairman of the disciplinary committee, a post to which I was twice re-elected. We got along so well together that there was little for the disciplinary committee to do. But we did have one interesting task; we ran the food exchange. The need for a food exchange arose out of the fact that we came from different cultures with differing dietary laws. Hindus did not eat beef. Muslims and jews did not eat pork. Roman Catholics did not eat meat on Friday. There was, however, one exception to the latter rule. A Spanish student who stayed with us for a time told us that he was allowed to eat meat on Friday because his ancestors had driven the Moors from Grenada in 1492. As the hostel could serve only one menu per meal, students needed to be able to exchange food they could not eat for extra food they could eat at other meals. The terms of trade were set by the committee in accordance with supply and demand. Nevertheless, they were also set in such a way that nobody was ill nourished. Market imperfections will occur.

Occasionally, situations did arise that the warden considered too serious for the disciplinary committee to handle. Such a situation arose one night when Mike lit a firecracker under the bursar’s door. Mike turned himself in, and the warden had a long talk with him the following morning. Mike readily agreed to write the bursar a letter of apology, which ran more or less as follows: “I am frightfully sorry for having exploded a firecracker under your bedroom door. The warden has explained to us that ladies going through your time of life are apt to be nervous, highly strung and rather difficult. You may therefore rest assured that the next student who lights a firecracker under your bedroom door will not be me.” I believe Mike went on to a distinguished career in public relations. The warden was from Oxford, the bursar from Cambridge. They therefore always treated each other with the utmost politeness. It seemed to us that, for the next little while, they also treated each other with more than usual formality.

This was only the warden’s second year in office. He was younger than some of us and not much older than most of us, and he was a graduate of Oxford. He sought to introduce to the LSE hall of residence certain of Oxford’s ancient traditions. Particularly memorable was his installation of the High Table. Actually, it stood no higher than any other table in the dining-room. But it was a heavy, ornate structure that was positioned in an alcove at one end of the room. The warden, the bursar and other members of the above-stairs staff sat at this table. Students sat at other tables–below the salt–if not literally, at least figuratively.

We Canadians viewed the High Table with some amusement, but not the Welsh. Most of them miners’ sons, they were opposed to the High Table and all that it stood for. They were so much against such things that they were deeply hurt when their left-wing Labour Party hero, Aneurin Bevan, wore a dinner jacket to Buckingham Palace.

One morning it was found that the High Table had been brought low. It must have required several sturdy young men to turn this heavy structure upside down. The Welsh were sturdy. It took several staff members from below-stairs to right the High Table so that the staff members from above-stairs could eat their breakfast. The chairman of the disciplinary committee never tried to find out “Who done it.” The warden very much wanted to know, but he never succeeded in finding out.

Actually, the High Table was not altogether a bad idea. Once a week in term time, we entertained a distinguished guest to dinner. It might be a cabinet minister, a judge, a distinguished barrister or literary man. Two students would be invited to join the above-stairs staff and the distinguished guest at the High Table. I couldn’t help noticing that if the distinguished person belonged to the Labour Party, even the Welsh students were happy to accept this invitation.

After dinner we entertained the distinguished person in our common room. Actually, usually it was the distinguished person who entertained us. These evenings were strictly off the record, and some of these men had most interesting stories to tell. I remember hearing things about the abdication of King Edward VIII that, although they are well known now, were revelations to us then. I had not realized how much support King Edward had among certain elements in the British public and how much feared he was by the then ruling members of the Conservative Party.

Nevertheless, certain students never quite forgave the warden for the High Table. One morning our bulletin board was of more than usual interest. The sex goddess, Mai West, was soon to visit England. The tabloids were full of her and her pictures. There was a typed letter from our warden to Miss West inviting her to spend the night with him at the Hall. There was also a reply from Miss West’s secretary in which she said that Miss West was charmed to hear that the English called their prisons halls. Miss West would have been delighted to spend an evening with the warden, but preferably on the outside. Unfortunately, previous engagements prevented her from giving herself this pleasure. Perhaps they could meet during some future stay in England; that is, if the warden was not already living in retirement. Into every warden’s life a little rain must fall.

The police never had occasion to visit our residence. But certain students did have the occasional brush with the law. When the King made ceremonial visits to the City, he passed along the Strand in his royal coach. On those occasions, it was the tradition that students from King’s College should line one side of the Strand and that LSE students should line the other. As the coach passed along, we would all sing: “All the King’s children are illegitimate, are illegitimate, are illegitimate!” The police did not take this seriously because, in those days, everybody knew that the King’s children were not illegitimate. But it was considered definitely not cricket to roll ball bearings under the hoofs of the horses of the Household Cavalry, not because of what might happen to the riders but on account of what might happen to the horses. Rightly, the police did take a dim view of that. Then there was the matter of the Serpentine, a lake in Central London. To swim in the nude in the Serpentine at midnight was part of the initiation at Passfield Hall. Usually, the police failed to notice.

But I had not come to England to learn about food exchanges, wardens, or even High Tables. I had to set about making myself into a professional economist. At Dalhousie, I had received excellent instruction in the history of economic doctrine and in the application of deductive reasoning to economic analysis. Professor Maxwell would go about a small class asking questions on a reading assignment. The student’s answer would lead to another question from the professor, and soon the student found that he was contradicting himself. I enjoyed this game even when, as not infrequently happened, I was the student contradicting himself. I enjoyed it so much that I decided to play a more active part. One day, in response to the professor’s question, I posed a question myself. No doubt Professor Maxwell had encountered students like me before. Without hesitation he said, “Mr. Foohey, there can be only one Socrates here.” I now knew the name of the game and its rules. But this in no way diminished my pleasure in playing it.

But I was weak in empirical research. I therefore followed courses in statistical methods given by Sir Robert Allen and in the philosophy of science given by Sir Karl Popper. I also took a course in econometrics by Mr. Philips. Professor Philips of Philips Curve fame was then a young lecturer. His famous curve lay in the future, but he was already famous for his contraption.

Having come to economics from engineering, he had constructed a tank with faucets through which water of different colours flowed into the tank. The purpose of this machine was to demonstrate fluctuations in gross national expenditure and its components. An increase in exports, represented by an increased inflow of water of a given colour, would raise the level of water in the tank, which represented gross national expenditure. There was an outlet for imports that, when opened wider, lowered the level of water in the tank and gross national expenditure. Everybody was proud of the Philips machine and loved to show it off to visiting professors.

I was a member of a seminar on macro economics conducted by Lord Robbins. This seminar was attended by faculty members and graduate students. We had frequent visitors among whom were three economists who later became Nobel laureates, Milton Friedman, Sir John Hicks n James Meade. These were lively affairs. People were not afraid to cast their bread upon the waters although it was sometimes but half baked. I expect that I was one of those whose bread was less well baked than most. But apparently Lord Robbins did not hold this against me.

Although he was extremely busy, Lord Robbins found time to take a personal interest in his students. He thought it would be lovely for me to be able to examine the Elgin Marbles. At the beginning of the nineteenth century, Lord Elgin had removed these ancient Greek sculptures from the Parthenon and shipped them to England. The British government later purchased them from Lord Elgin and gave them to the British Museum. As British ambassador to Constantinople, Lord Elgin had been able to persuade the Sultan to allow him to “liberate” these sculptures, Greece being then a part of the Ottoman Empire. Having become an independent country, Greece has expressed strong reservations concerning the present location of these art treasures. Nevertheless, it was a fine thing for me that the Elgin Marbles were where they were–in the Greek Antiquities section of the British Museum.

Lord Robbins arranged with the director of Greek Antiquities for me to be able to examine the sculptures. They had been placed in a band high on the wall of the Parthenon. They were now placed in a band high on the wall of a large room in the British Museum. When I arrived, I was met by the director of Greek Antiquities, a porter and a tall step ladder. The porter placed the ladder under the first of the sculptures while the director explained what I was going to be able to feel. I then mounted the ladder and examined as much of the sculptures as I was able to reach. Having descended the ladder, I was told what I would be next able to examine while the porter moved the ladder to the next location. In this manner, we proceeded through the Elgin Marbles.

The fifth century B.C. sculptors had used images of the gods to show the idealized human body–in motion and at rest. These sculptures had a beauty that still lingers in my mind. They exhibited a superb striving for perfection. I shall always be grateful to Lord Robbins, to the director of Greek Antiquities and to the porter for permitting me to experience something of noble beauty and great historical significance.

The Royal National Institute for the Blind also helped to enrich my stay in London. From time to time, they would send me tickets to concerts in the Albert Hall. I had never before experienced orchestral or chamber music live. Even with today’s advanced recording and transmitting technology, there is no substitute for the live concert. You cannot catch the excitement of the audience without being there.

Lord Beaverbrook took a personal interest in his scholarship students. I had the privilege of meeting him on several occasions in his home at Leatherhead in Surrey. Unlike the Rhodes scholarship committee, Lord Beaverbrook was not afraid to have a blind person represent Canadian youth in England. He encouraged his scholarship students to accept invitations from service clubs and other groups to speak to them about Canada, and he took it for granted that I would participate fully in this activity. I enjoyed doing this, although I once disgraced myself by referring to Rotary clubs as “common.” The distinguished Rotarian with whom I was attempting to make polite conversation assured me that, while Rotary clubs in London were numerous, they were by no means “common.” Nevertheless, I did receive subsequent invitations to address Rotary. Probably they felt that I was in need of more of their civilizing influence, and probably they were right. They had excellent meals. Furthermore, unlike the time when I read Braille for Rotary at age twelve, I now got my share.

Over dinner, Lord Beaverbrook told me that he had known Mr. J. C. Williston, but he did not tell me in what capacity he had known him. But Mr. Williston, my long-suffering piano teacher, had told me that he had known Lord Beaverbrook and also in what capacity he had known him. They were of about the same age, and both came from Newcastle, New Brunswick. As a teen-agger home for summer holidays from the Halifax School for the Blind, Mr. Williston used to play the pipe organ for services in the Presbyterian church of which Lord Beaverbrook’s father was the minister. Somebody had to pump air for the old pipe organ. Who would be a more likely candidate for this rather dull job than the minister’s son? It could be a good thing for sighted youths to have to serve blind people. That could change attitudes. “Now, Max, you get on with that pumping, and do it right this time.” I have no reason to suppose that this conversation ever occurred; it
‘s just a fantasy of mine.

Lord Beaverbrook saw to it that his scholarship students were invited to take part in a variety of events. I was one of several Beaverbrook students who were invited to meet the Queen (then Princess Elizabeth) on the occasion of Her Royal Highness receiving an earned bachelor’s degree in music from the University of London. After the formalities, we all sat down to an informal and very pleasant tea. But I got myself into terrible trouble for what I said afterwards. An acquaintance, a former army officer, asked me what I had thought of Princess Elizabeth. Meaning no disrespect, I said that I thought she was a lovely girl. For a while, I thought it was going to be pistols for two, breakfast for one. “Bloody colonial impudence” was, I believe, the least severe of his descriptions of what I had said. I shudder to think what would have happened to me had Princess Elizabeth already been Queen Elizabeth. I once visited the torture chamber in the Tower of London. Fortunately for me, the x-officer’s wife managed to calm him down, and, after a time, we were again able to meet on friendly terms. But we never again ventured on any subject having to do with royalty.

When I entered LSE, I knew that I wanted to write a thesis on the impact on the economy of taxation, but I had no clear idea as to what I wanted to do. Professor Ronald Tress, my supervisor, was very patient reading my over-ambitious outlines for a proposed thesis. Gradually, he nudged me down to something doable. I decided to write a thesis having to do with the taxation of capital gains. I had been reading my way into this subject for almost a year when, one day, a fellow graduate student drew my attention to a book that had just arrived in the library. It was written by several professors in the United States, and it was on the taxation of capital gains. I had to spend several weeks reading this rather large book to find out whether these professors had left a thesis topic for me. Eventually, I had to admit they had not. To obtain the Ph.D. degree, you must make an original and significant contribution to knowledge. There was no way that I could make such a contribution in that field at that time.

I had only about a year and a half left in my three-year scholarship. I therefore had to find a thesis topic in a hurry. I decided on Government of Canada debt management for the period 1931-1951. I had therefore to examine debt management under three widely differing sets of economic and financial circumstances. I had to deal with the problems for debt management posed by the Great Depression of the 1930’s, the wartime economy and the period of post-war reconstruction. It is
interesting to note that something I chose to write about more than forty years ago has become a topic for household discussion if not a welcome house guest.

My research involved a great deal of reading. Fellow students were very generous with their time. They did most of my reading. But the Royal National Institute for the Blind also provided me with a considerable number of volunteer readers. I was also able to do some background reading in Braille from the Students National Library, which is run by the RNIB. The LSE library was well stocked with Government of Canada financial and economic documents. From the point of view of access to relevant information, I was as well off at the LSE library as I would have been at any university library in Canada. The staff of the research department of the Bank of Canada were most helpful in providing me with statistics that, while they were not confidential, had not been published.

I completed my thesis in mid-1953, and later that year I had to defend it. My Supervisor, Sir Alan Peacock, was my internal examiner and Professor Tress, being now at the University of Bristol, was my external examiner. Although I did most of my research at the Lse, my Ph.D. degree is from the University of London. This is because the LSE, being a college within the University of London, is not a degree granting institution.

Written on the Ph.D. certificate are the words: “A License To Begin.” It was therefore time for me to return to Canada to begin my career as a professional economist.

In December, 1953 I again boarded the Empress of France, this time bound from Liverpool to Saint John, New Brunswick. The St. Lawrence River was already closed to navigation for the winter season. On my return journey, I did not try to hide from the ship’s officers. Nevertheless, nobody tried to put me ashore. In mid-Atlantic, we ran into a severe winter storm. I remember sitting in my cabin with the ship pitching wildly. Perhaps the Empress was mirroring my thoughts. I now held a doctorate from one of the most prestigious schools in the world. I was as well qualified to begin my professional life as an economist as anybody could be. But I was still blind. Life on the outside had taught me that most sighted people cannot see the person for the blindness. I had no reason to believe that sighted employers would be an exception. In England, there were some successful blind people in several professions. I have already mentioned Charles McInnis, Professor of Imperial History at Bristol University. But what were the opportunities for blind professionals in my own country, Canada? Apart from people working at the CNIB and the Halifax School for the Blind, I had not heard of any successful professional persons who were blind. Furthermore, in my own profession, I knew of a blind Canadian who had become a competent economist, but who had never succeeded in obtaining permanent employment in his profession. Would society permit me to earn my living as an economist? Eventually, I would obtain permanent employment as an economist and would be able to pursue a satisfying career. But first there would be more hurdles to surmount. I would almost have to suspend my job search for lack of money. Sitting in my little cabin in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, I could not know what the future would hold. Whatever material success I might or might not have, I was richer intellectually and spiritually for having spent three years in England. The storms were abating. I was young and healthy and, generally, of an optimistic turn of mind. Come what may, I was determined to succeed.

HISTORY OF THE EDUCATION OF, AND WORK FOR, THE BLIND up to 1971 by Miss Grace Worts

Studying the development of the education of the blind and work for the blind, information has bean largely gleaned from the book,entitled “From Homer to Helen Keller” by Richard Slayton French, Ph.D., written in 1932 when he was Principal of the California School for the Blind.

The following quotation is from the Preface of that book: “Homer stands for the greatest achievement of the blind in the times antecedent to their systematic education. He stands for all those bards, many of them blind or blinded, creators of literature and makers of our language, aho,through ballads, always of great vigour and sometimes of surpassing beauty, have handed down to us the glorious tradition of far-off heroic times. Helen Koller stands for the supreme achievement of education. The blind claim her, but the deaf can claim her too, and modern education can claim her more than either – and all humanity claims her with the best claim of all. For she is the epitome of all that is best in humanity, all that is most spiritual, and all that is through conscious aim and directed effort, through education in its best sense.”

While blind persons make up a vern small fraction of the total population, thelrevertheless form a conspicuous element in any society.

Eye diseases and accidents resulting in total or partial blindness are as old as humanity, but the history ‘n

of the last hundred years shows to how great a@ extent blindness, especially from birth or early infancy, is subject to control and hence to gradual reduction. On the whole, the advance of civilization coincides with a decrease of blindness, except for sporadic increases from time to time due to accidental or temporary factors such as recently happened in premature babies through, it was discovered, the use of too much oxygen.

The condition of the blind in the pre-Christian period was for the most part deplorable. Doubtless blindness was looked upon as the worst evil that could befall man, and often as a punishment. Though certain blind persons attained a sort of spiritual pre-eminence, inspiring even a superstitious awe, the great mass was looked upon as practically useless, and some were at times given over for destruction. In the early days of mankind the struggle for survival brought individuals together to form a tribe, and any member who could not full7 contribute to the subsistence and defense of the gpoup was a liability and consequently was subject to elimination. While feelings of humanity afforded some of those who survived a tolerable existence, the majority led the wretched life of beggars. No one had thought of systcmaticall7 educating them for useful employment. The life of the blind person passed largely without love as well as without light. Blindness was considered so far the worst of misfortunes, it was felt that without some compensating gift of the gods, one could only be overwhelmed by it. For example, Homer’s supreme poetic gift was attributed to the motive of compassion for his blindness by the gods.

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In the Christian communities of the first century which had much the character of large family groups, the secon! phase in the lifi4of the blind began. The7 were at that time under t@e,qare of the doacons. Wealthy Christians offered t@om dwelling places in their houses. In the older form of Christianit7 the church looked after all matters of charity and made certain that none of tho neadt lived in want.

But this custom had largely disappeared before the
end of the Middle Ages when these functions, more particularly the care of those continually unfit for making their own living had been taken over(by th” asylums and cloisters and later hospitals where through minor suitaile employment the blind not only rendered soma real service but escapec thus, to a certain extent, the boredom of their existence. The private benefactions of this period created finally a series of hospices exclusively devoted to the blind. This was actuated by the desire to remove the sightless from the streets and relieve their misery by providing better conditions for them and added productivity to their ot4er¬wise empty lives. The beginnings of thy hospital brotherhoods of the blind date back into the fifth century. The decline of church charities, the need of those unfit for worn, which at that time includ6d the blind, and the great increase in beggary tended to produce a more practical organization for the care of the poor. Such charities naturall7 became the undertaking of the flourishing cities. Tho greatest necessity was to do away with baggar7 in all Christendom and foster a universal charity for all the really needy.

In 1526 the great Spanis4 humanist, Juan Lins Vives wrot@ a book “On The Subvention of the Pooru, a book with unusual significance in tht history of the blind, in that it strikes the keynote of blind relief, the author maintaining that the blind must not bo allowed to sit around unemployed, but must be put at some useful employment as a contribution toward their support. This philosophy latcv came to fruition, in tho effort at least, Phan Valentin Huay, a philanthropist and member of the circle of revolutionary thinkers, founded the rarisian Institution for the Blind in 1784. His idwa in turn was taken up by the philanthropists and philanthropic societies of that enlightened age and by them spread abroad.

Howevaq systematic training and education of the blind came much later and largely as a result of the outstanding accomplishments of a few vory able blind persons, The first important instance of the education of a blind person is that of Didymus of Alexandria in the fourth century of the Christian era. He won some reputation as a theologian and a teachers He became blind when he was four years of age. By means of an alphabot carved in wood he learnod to read by con¬structing words and sentences with these carved letters bot most of his stud7 was through hearing others read. He amassed a prodigious amount of loarning in the field of theology and Biblical literature and his scholarship led to his appointment as a professor in the UniversitV of Alexandria. His @noylodge also coverod pagan philosophy, mathematics, music and astronom7. Tho next educated pcrson of r4al importance came some fourteen hundred years later.

Although t4ene was a spirit of helpfulness in the care of the blind throughout tais period, it remained for

blind individuals to point tke wa toward the form tpat care shoul6 take, b- showing in their persons and achievements that the education they needed was that of directed self helpfulnoss.,@,

The most famous case of the education of a blind person up to the close of the eighteenth century was that gf a blind mathematician, Nicholas Saunderson, who became a professor at CambridSe. He played an important part in the histor7 of mechanical devices for the blind. He was born in 1682 in England, received a careful education, had a special aptitudo for mathematics and because 6f his brilliancy and clearness of mind he became a very abbe teacher, expounding particularly tke new theorial of Siv Isaac Newton, including his theory of light and colour.

Perhaps the most rutarkabla blind Tan of the eighteenth contur7 was John Motcalf, bovn in the North of England in 1717, of poor narcnts. He became blind when he was six 7ears of age, having already had some elementary schoobrg-He continued his education and as well learnod to ride and swim and went about with great ease. Ho was interested in trade and had a shrowd sense in baq;aining w5jch Ind him into various business ventures which necessitated considerable travelling. Ho was also a skilful musician and as such joined the Royal tvoops, seeing campaign service with them in Scotland. The highwa@s ncae his home were in such wretched condition that Metcalf conceived plans for their betterment. He took contracts for road qgnstruction and soon bcilt up a reputation as an angineer and seems to have buen ona of the first to use crushed stone for making road bods. Ho also planned and built bridges. He refused to let blindness interfere with the normal course of his life.

Another outstanding blind man of this era Yas Jacob of Notra, a village in G@rmanV. Born in the middle of tho eighteenth conturt he lost his sight at a very early age. He went to the village school to gain tho olements of raligion and mas also given simple tasks. Noting that seeing children had a means of written communication ha devisod a system of his own by cutting notches with his knife in small stic@s similar to the s7stem of htallies” (or numbers) kept by primitive and uncult@ned-people. lith the aid of his playmates he directed his own education with his special method of recording until he finally aroused the interast of tho village pastor, Pho undertook his more complete training. In his lifetime he accumulated a small liorary of books consisting of notched sticks. He gainad a reputation as a man of wisdom aqd mad@ his living as an herb doctor, distinguishing his various preparations b@ labels made of notched sticks. The really significant feature in the case of Metcalf and Jacob is the7 did so much fo- them¬selves, making a place in the social and economic world b7 th@ir self-directod efforts. In the case of Jacob, the invention of a s-sten of symbols in relief is especially significant.

Tho fipst really intelligent efforts toward tho education of CPO blind took the direction largely of musical education, as their seemed to be a common belief that blind people were musically gifted by natunc. In fact, of course, a number of blind men and women have attained a place in th? field of music. One such person is Maria Thafesia von Paradis oho was born in Vienna in 1759 and lost hot sight at the age of tnree. She was givon no special attention until

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she was seven when her parents discovered she possessed an ardent love of music and a natural aptitude for learning. She was ppovidyd q skilful master and by the time she was twelve achieved the distinction of playing in the court church of Vienna. She aroused such enthusiasm that she was called to plav before the Empress Maria Theresia, who was so pleased with the performance she settled a pension upon the girl to enable her to secure a more complete education in music. This she did, studying other subjects as well and through her social contacts too acquired a broad and valuable education. On a tour of Europe she appeared in Paris about 1784 and t4ere met Valentin Hauy Nho was considering the organization of a school for the blind and she seems to have had a marked influence on the founding of the school and the selection of materials for the education of the blind. The contrast of her culture and refinement with the wretched condition of the numerous blind beggars in Paris, Vienna and the other great cities of Europe was a source of inspiration to men like Valentin Hauy and Wilhelm Klein of Vienna, who were struggling to better the lot of the blind. Shc also called Hauy’s attention to the systematic study of a blind man named Weissenburg born in Germany in 1756, who learned not only reading, writing and mathematics, but geograph7 and Ph7siCS. In his education the first use was made of relief Taps, In the choice of the means of educ¬ation for the blin@ Uauy was probabl7 more influenced b7 his investigation of the education of Weissenburg than any other. There were a few othor isolated but Si nificant attempts to educate the blind prior to 1794, but Hauy formed the first class fop the education of the blind, consisting of 12 pupils. He invented embossed printing for the blind which closely resembled the italics in form, which is script or handwriting.

He secured government approval and aid in establishing the first school for t@e blind located in Paris. His emphasis upon vocational education as well as academic was far in advance of general educational thought of the day.

The first institution for t>e education of the blind in England was started in Liverpool about 1700, the object stated to be “to render the blind happy in themselves and useful to society@. The Edinburgh ‘Blind AsVlutl followed in 1793. The term asnlum apparently meant a place of refuge or institution for the unfortunate. In Bristol in the same year an Asylum or Industrial School for the Blind was established, its object being Onot to employ the blind after being educated, but to teach them the means of getting a living by work”. In 1799 t4e Southward School for the Indigent Blind was founded with a similar purpose. The

Richmond National Institution of Dublin was founded in
181o.

The founding of t”e two most important German institutions was that in Vienna founded by Klein, a graduate in law, in 1804,and the second in Berlin founded under the immediate direction of Valentin Hauy in 1806. Klein’s institution was founded on the broad principles of goneral education with a clear distinction between the ends of education and those of charity and still remains a truly educational institution. In 1816 he had the satisfaction of seeing this institution raised to the status of a State Institution with Royal

and Imperial support. Seeing he could not gather all the blind children and youths into the institution he early tried to make provision for their education in the common schools. He made b,careful and systematic stud7 of the problems of ed”ucaoion, psychology and economics as related to the welfare of the blind, giving his results in such books as “Teacher’s Manual for tho Education of tne Blindn and 6Institutions for the Blind in GermanV”. Klein possessed the insight of a practical man of affairs, and man? of his best efforts were directed tov;rd,the partial or complete self-support of blind adults.

Between 1225 and 1835 Sghools for the Blind were established in Boston, New York and Philadelphia, the first in the United States, inspired by what numerous visitors from America had seen in Britain and on the continent. The Perkins School for the Blind was first named “The New England Asylum for the Blind,” for the purpose of educating blind persons . Dr. Samuel G. Howe was chosen to organize the school in 1831, after much preliminary discussion and planning. The School opened in July 1832 in the home of Dr. Hown’s father, with six pupils, In 1833 Colonel Thomas H. Perkins offered his mansion and grounds on condition that an endowment of $50,000 be raised, which was accot¬plished. Dr. Howe was vitally interested in tho fundamental wants of all underprivileged persons the deaf, the blind, the prisoner, the slave, the refugee and the politically suppressed – but the cause nearest his heart was the blind and he gave unstintingly of himself for their betterment for fortV-five’years. Between 1837 and 1860 twenty additional institutions were founded and sheltered workshops established.

During all this period mant systems for reading by the blind were invented and explored but the first really effective system for reading and writing was Braille. Louis Braille published an explanation of his system in 182y, using a six-dot combination for his basic sign. By altering the position of those dots he successfully gained 63 permutations which enabled him to transcribe all written signs used bl the sighted. Yet his system vas not universally adopted for some time. In Paris it was not officially adopted until 1854, two years after the death of Louis Braille. In Britain it was adopted about 1368. Work on a similar system was started previously by Charles Barbier, a Frenchman, an engineer, inventor and philanthropist, possibly intended as ciphcrs for military intelligence service as no mention was made of the blind. Braille brought this idea to a high degree of practical utility. In the United States Moon Type, based on Roman letters, and New York Point, a point system but based on more dots than Braille, were usnd originally in the schools and for printing. The Missouri School for tha Blind was the first to use Braille in the United States, about 1860. It was not until approximately 1892 that Braille was more widely adopted in the United States and the American Printing House began printins books in Braille on a pro-rata basis, as up to that time only New York Point printing was aided by government support. Ultimately a uniform Braille system was evolved, which is in general use throughout the English speaking woold.

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The integration of thy blind into society is the third and present phase in history of the blind. It began with the establishment of educational facil¬ities for blind children and this integration is becoming more and more a reality.

In the past forty years the world as a whole has .seen great changes; the aftermath of the First World War, the Great Depression, the Second World War, the Atomic Age, and now the Age of Automation. During these years events in work for the blind have taken place, which are no less revolutionary.

On this continent the enrolment of blind children in the regular public schools has steadily increased until now more sightless children attend regular schools than schools for the blind. Dr. Berthold Lowenfeld, recently retired as Superintendent of the California School for the Blind, considers the factors responsible for this change to be (1) the increasing integration of the blind into society (2) the high retard on this continent for rublic school education and 3) the recognition of the importance of family life for the individual child.

Residential Schools for the Blind now more generally function under the Provincial or State Departments of Education and thus are an integral part of the public school system. The teachers in thes@ schools are now required to have the regular teacher training.and, certification.

Vocational rehabilitation and its underlying philosophy have undergone considerable change. The prevailing practice even forty years ago was to assume that the blind could do certain types of work only and these were generally taught in schools or workshops foc the blind but the present day approach is to assess the person Ts aptitudes and interests and then provide training in the kind of work for which the individual is best suited, whether or not any blind person has done it before, and assist him in being placed in the field for which he has been successfully trained. This has resulted in an influx of blind people into industry, private enterprise and the professions. The Vocational Rehabilitation Acts’in Canada, the United States and other countries have given impetus to this change.

Social legislation, including pensions for the blind, have provided a modicum of subsistence for blind persons in need and provided the starting means in whole or part for the personal and economic rehabilitation of many4 Economic security is a pre-condition foO successful integration into society.

Limitation in mobility is one of the most serious effects of blindness. At a time when blind people were confined to residential schools, to special workshops a6d.gene@ally to a life-space restricted by the concepts of the.secing world, there was no great need for mobility. ‘There, of course, have always been blind people who Overcame theso restrictions but to-day when blind students attend colleges, blind people are trained for and pursue many kinds of work and take part in all phases of life. There is an urgent reed to develop their mobility POt@ntial to its fullest and this is being done.

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Nevertheless we are only on the way to integration and there are some strong factors to be overcome before full integration is achieved. They are-largely in the area of socio-psychological interaction, Dr. Lowenfeld states, and are found to be,tha same as or vury similar to those working alainst integration of other minority groups., Since it is human nature to avoid negative stii-auli, seeing people may tend to avoid those who are blind or show reluctance to meet them in closer personal relationship. The same avoidance reaction may also be caused by in unwillingness to enter into a situation of social cont2ct where the partner’s reactions are less predictable than those usually encountered. This probably is the case when a clerk or waiter turns toward the seeing companion of the blind person and asks him about the latter’s wishes. It is not so much atlack of recognition of the blind person’s capability to tike care of himself, but rnther the avoidance of a situation which the individual feels less competent to hindle. ns Col. Baker has said many people feel they should set a blind person on a shelf like a piece of Dresden chini because they are-ill at easo and afraid to trent a blind person as a normal, fully competent person.

One of the Dost encouriling facts to-dny is that blind persons themselves are assuming increasing leadership in guiding their own destinies. It shows up in the ever¬growin; number of executives and employees of public and private a7encies serving the blind who are themselves usually visunlly handicapped. It is evident in internat¬ional and nntional conventions in our field which in the past were dominated largely by sighted’representatives while in more recent decades blind persons themselves have assumed leadership and greater responsibilities.

Any effort in the general field of minority groups directed toward reducing anti-minority ind authoritarian attitudes will also have an effect on rho position of the blind in society and lead to fuller integration.

In some of the developing countries of Africa and Asist blind people occupy a unique position as an emergent group. Residential schools are in many of these countries non¬existent or serve only an infinitesimal number of those who need an education and consequently many blind children who had no opportunity for g2ining an education are now placed in rejular public schools and provided with the special help they need. Similarly the adult blind of some of these countries are not hampered by traditions of charitable institutions which would tend to keep them in a ‘wird’ position, but are integrating in their societies as their education goes forward, contributing their indiv¬idual skills to the economic and social life of their coiiiriiunities, though this is just beginning as heretofore the majority of blind people in these countries lacked education, and beggary is still widespread.

Quotation from Dr. Lowenfeld’s paper presented to the American Association of Workers for the 31ind in 1950, entitled “Co-operation in dork for the Blind, Here and Abroad”.

“Institutions and services which aim at the integration of the blind and instil in them the spirit of independence and strengthen those qualities and skills which will enable them to take their rightful place as members of their society are progressive, desirable and in the best interest of the blind”.

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IN CANADN

it was in 1861 that work foy the blind actually bc4an in Canada. In that,year Father housselot, a priest fron France, opened a,school in Lontreal for the Fronph-speaking blindoctildren, known as the Nazareth Institute for the 31ind (L’Institut Nazareth) founded on the motel of the National Institute for the Young Blind in Paris established by Valentin Hauy, Shortly after its inception the institution was turned, over to the Ursuline (or Grey) nuns for administration, by whom it is still controlled. The original Charter was granted by the Hing of Frince. It was first located in a downtown section of St. Catherine Street. In 1932 it moved to a spacious building on queen Nary Road but for financial reasons *as forced to move to its present smaller quarters on Cot4 St. Lichele Road UP to 1940 education was provided for girls and boys to the end of high school, but from that date (1940) girls have been accepted from Grade I to graduation from high school and boys from Grade I to ale 12, when they now are enrolled at the Louis 3raille Institute established in 1953. The educational standard of Nazareth, particularly in the field of music, is high. Formerly the Nazareth institute operated a broom and brush factory, a handcraft department and residence for workers and elderly blind persons but these were dis¬continued. However, in 1964 the Grey Nuns opened a home for elderly blind women which now accommodates 145. It is known as Foyer Housselot. The school receives grants from the Federal Government and the Government of the Province of @uebec.

The next organization established was the Halifax School for the 3!ind, originally opened in 1871 as an OAsylum for the Blind”, and at that time was intended as a home for the blind. The first head was Charles Frederick Fraser, who in 1915 wns knighted. His father was a prominent medical practitioner in 7indsor, Nova Scotia, well-known throughout the Province. Sir Charles was educated at the Perkins School for the Blind in Boston. The School wis established through private support and a small Government grant and still has an endowment as well as the per capita grant made by the governments concerned for pupils in attendance. It has always served the three thritime Provinces and Newfoundland. Graduates who go on to Dalhousie Univ¬ersity Always have been granted free tuition there.

The third school established in Canada was the Ontario School for the Blind in 1872 and one of the first eleven pupils enrolled is still alive in the person of I,,Ir. Sandford Leppardi now 104 years of age, having been born November lgth, 1861. l@ir. Lessard became an expert piano tuner and made his living from this profession. This School is under the jurisdiction of the Provincial Department of Education and its curriculum corresponds to that of the regular public and high schools. It includes vocational training and music. This was not always so as originally blind people of,all ages and mentality were admitted, which, of course, was a great detriment to the morale of the place. Over the years tremendous improvements have been made in the programme and administration of this School and it now holds q high place in our educational system. It serves not only the Province of Ontario but has-always had pupils from the Prairie Provinces as well, whose education is paid for on a per capita basis by their home Province. There is an ,’@lunmi Association, composed of graduates and former pupils

which was organized about 1919. It meets biennially
at the School.

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5,078 readers. This of course does not give the number of titles, as in embossed type several volumes might be recuired for a title, on Talking Books there may be ten or more recorcs to a title, and on the cassettes there may be Lao books on one tape. In the fall of 1902 i@. Rooingon died and his widow, who died just last year, was appointed-librarian, carrying on in her own home until 1911, when through the courtesy of the-Chief Librarian for Toronto, l@. George !I,. Locke, and the Library Board of Toronto, premiscs were loaned in the 4est Toronto branch of the Public Library, located at Dundns and Keele Streets. On September lst, 1913, lis. Robinson left the service of the library and B.C. Swift assumed charge a I s librarian. There is a plaque in the libr@ry department of The Canadian N2tional Institute for the Blind; commemorating the work of !&. E.3.F. Robinson, erected on the 50th anniversary of the founding of the Canadian Free Library for the 31ind. In a letter from El.thynard Robinson, son of Pr. and Mrs. E.B.F. Robinson, in answer to-an invitation to the luncheon on September 30th,1965, officially launching the biography of Col. L.”. Baker and the story of CNIB, he says “I would particularly like to be tbpre to honour Col.Boker and his work for I feel witnout his ability and energy no vestige of my father’s efforts would remain today”.

Dr. lwift was blind, obtained a deeree in music from the Toronto Conservatory of Music, his B.A. from McGill University and a I,Lasters’ de7,ree from the University of Toronto. Later ZcGill conferred an honorary LL.D. on Dr. Swift. He spoke seven languages fluently.

In ITarch, 1917, the library was transferred to a house at 142 Collele Street, near University Avenue, which was purchased in December 1916, and which has since been demolished. The ground on which this building stood belonged to the University of Toronto for which a small annual ground rent was paid. In this same year the name was changed to The Canadian National Library for the Blind. The University of Toronto finally bought this house and the CNIB library department was moved to 64 Baldwin Street, in 1929.

In 1908 the Kontreal Associntion for the Blind was organized under the presidency of l@’.r. C.,,I. Lindsay (later 2ir Charles Lindsay). The secretary was air. ,eptin@u@ Fraser, the treasurer, Er. F.E. Layton, all sightless. The purpose of the Association was to ameloriate the conditions of life and education of the English-ipeaking blind of the Province of Quebec. The first concrete activity of this Association was the establishment of a broom shop to employ blind operatives, located in rented quarters on Potre Dame Street. At the same time a small collection of books and apparatus was made and housed in 11. Lindsayts office. In 1911 approximately ten acres of land was purchased by the Association on Sherbrooke Street West where a new broom shop and a school for the education of young Lnglish¬speaking blind children were built and are still in operation on the same property. Instruction at the school has always been of an elementary nature and did not conform to the regular school programme of the Province of Quebec until approximately two years ago. Pupils are carried to Grade 7, conforming now more closely to the regular curriculum. The Association carries on some social activities as well for English¬speaking blind people of all ages and operates a very small residence for elderly blind persons.

About 1912 or 1913 an’ organization of the blind was formed in Vancouver, B.C., which became the Oestern Association of the-31ind., it held monthly meetings discussed problems, considered ways and means, etc., but did not initiate much,ol’practical value owing to lack of funds. However, the,need for a school for the education of the young blind of the province was im¬pressed upon the ninds of Government officials, with the result tnat the Department of Education ;ranted j2O.OO per month for board and maintenance of each pupil registered, which amount was later doubled. Ers. C.E. Burke, a blind woman of English birth who had been educated at the Birmingham School for the Blind, and after graduation ha& been,on the staff,of the school for the blind in Adelaide, South dales, for ton years, offered her home at 1238 Eelville Street, Vancouver- as promises for a school, which was accepted. In Fly, 1916, the school opened with two pupils. For six years the school carried on in l,’irs. Burke’s home, with Lts. 3urke as teacher, the largest number of pupils registered being eight. The school was under the control and’inspection of the Public school Board of Vancouver, which gave every assistance possible. DurinZ the period of this exper¬iment the Govcrnment became aware of the importance of education for the young blind people of the province and that of the deaf, The province therefore, decided to erect a dual school in Vancouver for purposes of economy, though the blind were opposed to the education of the blind and the deaf in one institution, a system already found unsatisfactory on t>is continent and by this time almost wholly abandoned. However, on Sept¬ember lst, 1922, the-school for the deaf and blind-was opened at Point Grey, Vancouver, with Lawrence, formerly Imad teacher for the deaf at Halifaxi as Superintendent, and P±. “. A. rchibald, B.,., (blind) as Principal of the Oepartment for the blind. Lrs. Burke was !&. archibald’s assistant. This school continues to maintain a high standard of education in every phase.

In !!Y, 1914, the Itritime Association for the Blind was incorporated “To furtaer the interests of graduates of the school for tie blind, and to assist and co-operate with blind persons generally”. The school referred to is the Halifax School for the Blind. In 1920 the assoc¬iation was amalgamated with the CNIB and its funds turned over to the Maritime Division 9 CAI3, which were applied to the general services of that Division, but it continued to hold title to the broom factory in Halifax and to conduct social events. In 1930 this building was turned over to the ltritime Foundation for the Jlind and the association ceased to ezist.

In 1914 the Ottawa Association for-the 31ind was founded to provide industrial training and employment for adult blind people resident in Ottawa and district. The association continued these activities until 1920, when these services were handed over to The Canadian National Institute for the 31ind. In 1923 the association estab¬lished a residence for blind people which was taken over for administration by CHIB in 1948. The association still exists, retainsthe administration of its own funds but works in close co-operation with CHIB and does not carry on any independent activities. The Ottawa Association has top¬resentatives on the local CHIB Advisory Board.
In 1916 the Ontario association for the 31ind was organized in the City of Toronto. This association was brought into being as the result of rather unwise manage¬ment of the Ontario School for the 31ind, whose cause

About 1912 or 1913 an’ organization of the blind was formed in Vancouver, B.C., which became the jestern Association of the,31ind., it held monthly meetings discussed problems, considered ways and means, etc., but did not initiate iiiuch,o-L practical value owing to lack of funds. However, theineed for a school for the education of the young blind of the province was im¬pressed upon the ninds of Government officials, with the result that the Department of Education ;ranted o@20.00 per month for board and maintenance of each pupil registered, which amount was later doubled. Mrs. C.E. Burke, a blind woman of Znglist birth who had been educated at the Birmingham School for the Blind, and after graduation hai been-on the staff-of the school for the blind in Adelaide, South dales, for ten years, offered her home at 1238 Eelville Street, Vancouver; as I es for a school, which was accepted. In Ety, 19 the school opened with two pupils. For six years the school carried on in Its. Burkets home, with his. 3urke as teacher 7 the largest number of pupils registered being eight. The school was under the control and-inspection of the Public school 3oard of Vancouver, which gave every assistance possible. During the period of this exper¬iment the Govcrnment became aware of the importance of education for the young blind people of the province and that of the deaf. The province therefore, decided to erect a dual schuol in Vancouver for purposes of economy, though the blind were opposed to the education of the blind and the deaf in one institution, a system already found unsatisfactory on this continent and by this time almost wholly abandoned, However, on Sept¬ember lst, 1922, the-school for the deaf and blind,was opened at Point Grey, Vancouver, with LO. Lawrence, formerly head teacher for the deaf at Halifax, as Superintendent and I&. rchibald B.”. (blind) as Principal of the department for the blind. Lrs. Burke was it. nrchibald’s assistant. This school continues to maintain a high standard of education in every phase.

In !Ay, 1914, the Maritime Association for the Blind was incorporated “To further the interests of graduates of the school for t@e blind, and to assist and co-operate with blind persons generally”. The school referred to is the Halifax School for the 31ind. In 1920 the assoc¬iation was amalgamated with the CNIB and its funds turned
over to the Division 9 CAI3, which were applied
to the general services of that Division, but it continued to hold title to the broom factory in Halifax and to conduct social events. In 1930 this building was turned over to the liritime Fountation for the Jlind and the association ceased to exist.

In 1914 the Ottawa Association for-the Blind was founded to provide industrial training and employment for adult blind people resident in Ottawa and district. The association continued these activities until 1920, when these services were handed over to The Canadian National Institute for the Blind. In 1923 the association estab¬lished a residence for blind people which was taken over for administration by CNIB in 1948. The association still exists, retainsthe administration of its own funds but works in close co-operation with CNIB and does not carry on any independent activities. The Ottawa Ass ciation has top¬resentatives on the local CHIB dvisory DoF

,rd.
In 1916 the Ontario Association for the 31ind was organized in the City of Toronto. This association was brought into being as the result of rather unwise manage¬ment of the Ontario Ochool for the 31ind, whose cause

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graduates and former pupils espoused, The association succeeded in securing the appointment of a Government commission to investigate;tbe conditions at the school, and after the report of the Commission was submitted to the Government, necessary reforms were instituted. The association continued for some years as a social organization but no longer exists.

In 1916 the Canadian Women’s Association for the Welfare of the Blind was formed under the presidency of Mrs. Fred Leach, its first major activity being the furnishing of the quarters of the Canadian National Library for the Blind. Their activities extended to the assistance of blind individuals in many practical ways, and the organization(was a great boon to the cause of the blind generally. This association became the Women’s Auxiliary to The Canadian National Institute for the Blind in June, 1919.

On March 30th, 1918, The Canadian National Institute for the Blind received its charter from the Secretary of State for Canada, and began its active life on July lst of that year, with a staff of three in one small room in the building occupied by the Canadian National Library for the Blind. The history of the CNIB will be covered in detail subsequently.

In 1926, Mr. P.E. Layton, then President of the Montreal Association for the Blind, formed the Canadian Federation of the Blind, claimed to be a fraternal union of the blind of Canada. Branches were established in the larger cities of most of the provinces and a Dominion Charter was granted in 1928. Prom the outset, the Federation was extremely critical of the CNIB. In 1932, the organizer, brought from England a couple of years previously, decided he was not in sympathy with the Federation policy and he resigned. From that date the organization began to weaken. In 1939, Mr. Layton died and his son Gilbert carried on as President for approximately four years. During this period the B.C. branch of the Federation absorbed the Western Association for the Blind and administered the small residence, Pandora Home, which they had been operating. Prior to the Second World War the Vancouver branch of the Federation was accepted into the Vancouver Community Chest for their budget covering residence and general expenses, but after one year they were refused continuance in the Vancouver Community Chest because of inadequate accounting for funds. The CNIB Vancouver office was appealed to and carried on this residence, renovating it with assistance from a service club, until the present and larger residence, Queen Elizabeth Hall, was built and opened in 1951. The Feduration now has only a few branches who carry on social activities.

In 1927 the Quebec Association for the Plind was founded in Quebec City. It established a workshop and residence. After requests from the Association, their services were taken over by the Quebec Division, CNIB, in 1942, and the Charter of the Association was surrendered.

In 1928 the French Canadian Association for the Blind was formed. It established a broom and brush factory for the purpose of providing employment for French-speaking blind persons, as few other opportunities existed at that time. This factory is still operating and the Association sponsors a recreation group.

In 1933 La Societe Amicale des Aveugles was formed by a dissatisfied former employee of the French Canadian Association for the Blind. This organization publishes a monthly magazine in French Braille which it distributes free to blind persons, and sells Braille appliances to the blind. It also sells merchandise to the blind such as soap, Christmas cards, etc., for resale by them to the public on a door-to-door basis. Its funds are collected by canvassers on a paid basis of from 40% to 50%. This organization has been prohibited from raising funds ¬in Montreal.

In February, 1944, the Interprovincial Council of the Blind was established representing Manitoba and Ontario, as a result of the desirability felt by the Manitoba League of the Blind in Winnipeg for the uniting of the existing clubs of the blind into a national organization, for which purpose the League established a committee in April,1941, to approach other organizations of the blind throughout Canada, to ascertain their views in the matter.

In 1946 the name was changed to the Canadian Council of the Blind. It started with a nucleus of seven clubs and now has over seventy-five clubs with a membership of approximately 5,000. The Council and its divisions receive their financial support from the CNIB, on a budget basis, but retain their full autonomy. The Council has the right to accept donations, but does not solicit them. This avoids confusion of the general public, as would be the case if two organizations, of and for the blind, wire campaigning for funds, and this would injure the whole cause. The CCB clubs carry on recreational and social activities, meetings, entertainment, sick visiting, and such other activities as might be of assistance to blind persons in maintaining a normal social outlook. The Council sponsors White Cane Week, a publicity campnign intended to inform the general public on the use of the white cane, the achievements and capabilities of blind people and some of their major problems. It is not a fund¬raising campaign, and is carried on with the co-operation of the CNIB Director of Publicity. The CCB Outlook, which is the voice of the Council, is published quarterly. The Council was granted a Federal Charter on May 10th, 1950. The CNIB works closely with the CCB and recognizes it as the official voice of the organized blind in Canada. Liaison committees made up of representatives of the CNIB and CCB exist at both the national and divisional level, for the exchange of ideas, the solving of mutual problems and the consideration of joint action in the interests of the blind. In all public representations the CCB and CNIB mutually agree and mutually present submissions. This system provides the blind with every opportunity for self-expression, while at the same time avoiding

94 public controversy which is so damaging to the cause.
In 1953 L’Institut Louis Braille, a French school for blind boys, was established in Montreal by Les Clercs de St. Viateur. This school provides educational facilities up to university and enrolls boys beyond age 12, the age at which they are discontinued at the Nazareth Institute. It is located in Ville Jacques Cartier, where more than 100 students are enrolled and there is room for considerable expansion. It is fully financed by the Quebec Government and follows the regular provincial school curriculum.

14

There have been clubs established during this period, such as the Young Men I s Music and Literary Society, which was formed in 1892, and whose minutes in embossed type are in the vault of CNIB, the Excelsior-Club, the Comradbs Club, The London Assoc¬iation for the Blind, the Man’ltoba League, the Lux-in-Tenebris Club and numerous others. But those who have not disbanded have, for the most part, joined the Canadian Council of the Blind.

There have also been sporadic attempts to develop other organizations during these years, but their aims and achievements are not worthy of special mention and most are now non-existent.

From the foregoing it will be seen that the Canadian Free Library for the Blind, later the Canadian National Library for the Blind, was the only organization endeavouring to serve blind people across the whole of Canada prior to the establishment of the CNIB. Possibly because the time was not opportune, or lack of money, or a leader was not forthcoming because of lack of ability, vision, or willingness to devote the necessary time and strength to the project, no comprehensive service organization was developed up to this time. In 1916 when Mr. A.G. Viets, the first Canadian blinded on service in the First World War, and Lieut. E.A. Baker, the first officer blinded in the First World War, returned to Canada, they were asked to join the Board of tho Canadian National LibrarV for the Blind, which they did. They were both verl aware by this time of the lack of service for the blind people of Canada and that the nation was not ready fo- the return of men blinded in the First World War. The Boand of the Canadian National Library for the Blind was made up of able blind people and in turn prominent sighted people were interested in the development of services Per the blind across Canada. After many meetings and much consideration application was made to the Secretar7 of State for a charter, which was granted on March 30th, 1918. The charter members were: Dr. Charles R. Dickson, a Toronto physician who had lost his sight through X-Ray experiments about that time; Dr. Charles Carruthers, a graduate lawyer and osteopath; Dr. S.C. Swift, the Chief Librarian of the Canadian National Library for the Blind; Lieut. E.A. Baker, an electrical engineer; Mr. A.G. Viets, an insurance agent, all sightless; Mr. Lewis Miller Wood, a prominent man,in the financial world, resident in Toronto; and Mr. Gordon Plaxton, the Honorary Solicitor. The objects were “To Ameliorate the Condition of the Blind of Canada and to Prevent Blindness”.

;@ stated previously CNIB began its active life on July ist, 1918, with a staff of three, occupying one small room in the building at 142 College Street, which housed the Canadian National LibrarV for the Blind. The thr@e were Mr. Charles W. Holmes, Director; Dr. C.R. Dickson, General Secretary and an Assistant Secretary.

Mr. Holmes was born in Stanstead, Quebec, lost his sight at ten years of age, after which he attended the Perkins School for the Blind. He was Head Ubster of the Eastern Townships College of Music for eleven years before going to the United States, where he was on the staff of the Massachusetts Commission for the Blind. He came to the CNIB on a five year contract, as from July 1sti 1918.

Mr. Lewis Miller Wood was CNIB’s President from
1918 to 1954.

Col. Baker and Mr. Victs were elected to Nat ional Council at its inception and Col. Baker was Vice¬President. At this time C61. Baker was a Dictaphone Typist at the Ontario Hydro office, ta@ing trouble reports directly from engi&eefs in the field, which he received by long distance tel2phone, repeated to the dictaphone and then transcribed the reports for the head of this department. In 1918 Col. Baker was appointed by the Federal Government to take charge of the training and after-care of the Canadian War Blinded, and he moved to Ottawa, where his office was located in the Department of Soldiers’ Civil Re-establishment, which is now known as the Department of Veterans’ Affairs. In September, 1920, Col, Bayer came on the staff of the Canadian National Institut& for the Blind as General Secretary, and resigned as Vice-President of National Council, as the By-laws stipulate that no paid official or employee of the Institute shall be a member of the Council. Col. Baker’s.title was changed in 1931 to that of Managing Director. He remained on the staff until June 30th, 1962, when he was again elected a member of National Council and was also elected Honorary President.

Several senior staff members served for 40 years or more, and others yet to retire will have served that length of time when the date of their retirement arrives. Sir Arthur Pearson was the first Honorary President and held that office until his death. This long tenure of office by an able President, who was completely selfless and many members of National Council,and the Women’s Auxiliary together with long and dedicated service by many on staff, gave stability in the early difficult days of organization and made possible growth and development that could probably not have been attained otherwise. In those early days Col. Baker several times weekly went to the home of the President, and together they walked to the CNIB offices, discussing problems and development on the way, so that the advice and experience of the President were always available and were very sound. Mr. Wood also had a great gift for obtaining money when the need was the greatest.

The structure of the organization has always been the same. The National Council is the governing and policy-making body. The members of National Council are elected annually ffom the membership of the CNIB. In addition, each Division Board of Management has four representatives thereon, and there is one representative each from the American Foundation for the Blind, the American Foundation for Overseas Blind, the Royal National Institute for the Blind and St. Dunstan’s, both of London, England, and the schools for the blind in Canada. The National Council meets twice Vearly, once being on the same day as the National Annual Meeting, so that members from across Canada are able to attend. The balance of the year the Executive Committee of National Council meets monthly, with the exception of July and August, but meetings of the Executive Committee or National Council can be held at any time at the call of the Chair.

The By-laws of the CNIB state “The Council shall have power in its discretion to delegate any of its powers to any person or persons, department or departments, committea3and associations as it may deem necessary or advisable, in the interests of the Institute, upon and subject to such terms, conditions and authorities as the Council may prescribe.”

-i6-

Under authority of this By-law the Council set up the Divisions, originally five in number, and now eight, through the division of three of the original areas, each Division with local autonomy. These Divisions in turn may Aelegate work to local Advisory Boards and Committees. The Managing Director is the senior official of the organization, responsible for carrying out the policies of National Council. The Superintendent is the senior official in each Division, appointed by National Council with the knowledge and approval of the Division Board concerned .

In general, Canada has been fortunate in being able to develop a national organization to serve the blind with the exception of education, which is the prerogative of the Provincial Governments. It has Dominion and Provincial support but the major portion of support comes from the general public. During the First World War the time was opportune when the interest of the general public was aroused as the first young men returned to Canada who had been bltndod on service, and their training, received at St. Dunstan’s in Great Britain under the direction of Sir Arthur Pearson, who had developed a new and progressive philosophy in work for the blind, coupled with the vbility, experience and knowledge of the civilian blind peop)e at home, made possible the planning for a national organization so evidently needed. There were only a few local organizations in existence and the majority of these eventually agreed to co-operate. Col. Baker, who had the ability, vision and health to tackle the responsibility nf guiding the development of this organization, was willing and readl in 1920 to accept the challenge when requested to do so by the President.

The first CNIB Division organized was the Ontario in June 1919, the second was the Maritime in Jul7, 1919, covering Nova Scotia, New Brunswick, Prince Edward Island and Newfoundland.

In September of the same Vear the Central Western Division, (covering Manitoba and Saskatchewan), and the Western Division,(covering Alberta and British Columbia) were established.

In September 1930, the Quebec Division was established.

In December, 19]3, Newfoundland was established as a separate Division, leaving the Maritime Division to cover Nova Scotia, New Brunswick and Prince Edward Island.

On April lst, 1956, with the approval of the Western Division Board, the Alberta Division and the British Columbia Division were established as separate entities.

On October lst, 1961, with the consent of the Central Western Division Board, the Manitoba Division and the Saskatchewan Division were established as separate entities.

In 1965 the name of the British Columbia Division was changed to British Columbia-Yukon Division as Yukon comes under tho administration of this Division.

The Northwest Territoiies”is administered from National Office with clients north of’British Columbia referred to that Division and those north of Alberta to the Alberta Division, for registration and service.

These Divisions were not established without difficulty. Take the Maritime Division as an example, where it might be expected that the establishment of a Division would be acceptable to the area, since the Halifax School for the Blind had been in existence since 1871, its graduates were aware of the need of an organization to serve the adult blind, and the general public was very familiar with the work of the Halifax School) yet it took a year mf discus¬sions and negotiations before this Division could be established. As early as August, 1916, Dr. Dickson had written Sir Frederick Fraser, then Superintendent of the Halifax School for the Blind, suggesting an organization in Canada similar to the National Institute for the Blind in Great Britain, and advising he had already suggested the raising of a national fund to help the blind, through the Red Cross, IODE, etc., which had been approved by the Duke of Connaught, then Governor-General of Canada, and reported to the Lieutenant-GQvernors of the Provinces. The purpose then considered was to support existing legitimate organizations, equip others where required and assist in securing legislation deemed necessary, as a memorial and tribute to those who lost their sight on service. Sir Frederick Fraser was nct very enthusiastic, and thought the Canadian Free Library for the Blind was not the organization to sponsor or do this. By July, 1917, Sir Frederick expressed approval of The Canadian National Institute for the Blind, but disagreed with the proposed charter. In 1917 the Halifax explosion occurred and Sir Frederick appealed for an endowment of $500,000 to care for those blinded in the explosion, at first reported to be approximately 200, but finally the actual total was about 43. In the same year Sir Frederick proposed establishing a Canadian St. Dunstan’s in Halifax for the training of the war blinded, the name of which was protested by Sir Arthur Pearson. Some war blinded men were in training at the Halifax School for the Blind, but this did not prove satisfactory, since regulations governing the students were not acceptable to mature men’4nd the facilities for the training of these men were not adequate. At a meeting of the CNIB National Council, held in February, 1919, Dr. John A. MacDonald of the Maritime Association for the Blind, reported the need in the Maritimes for employment opportunities for graduates from the school for the blind, as only a few of the more competent succeeded on their own initiative. At the meeting of’the CHIB Council on July 3rdo 1918, it was felt provincial committees should be established to bring the work of the Institute within the scope of the various Provincial Governments. It was agreed provincial autonomy would be maintained, and the possibility of friction between provinces as to the collection and expenditure of monies eliminated. At a meeting of National Council of CEIB in May, 1919, the organization of the Institute, on a basis to permit of the handling of industrial and other activities, was discussed, and the consensus of opinion was that the Dominion should be distracted into five districts

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Maritime, Quebec, Ontario, Manitoba and Saskatchewan9 Plberta and British Columbia7 that National Council should retain title to property, determination of all fundamental policy and procedure and the ultimate control through the local committees &f tie work to be carried on. In February, 1919, Mr. C. P.,Holmes and Dr. J. A. MacDonald discussed the possibility of the Maritime Association for the Blind being reconstituted as the Maritime Division, ONIB, and in search further discussions on this proposal were held by Mr. L. M. Wood, the CNIB President, and a former resident of Halifax, with the Executive Committee of the Maritime Association for the Blind. However, since amalgamation and transfer of the funds possessed by the Maritime Association for the Blind required legislation, it was deemed advisable that a Maritime Division CNIB be established and a working agreement was entered into between the 9AB and the CNIB, in which tho.Association agreed to pay over the entire income from the invested funds of the Associa¬tion, as well as from all other sources, less the proportion necessary to cover the expenses of the Association, which would continue social activities, subject to the approval of all expenditures by the Association. The Association was given authority to name four representatives to the Maritime Division Board of Management. At that time the Maritime Division, CNIB, had the right to three repre¬sentatives on National Council, and initially money required over and above the local income was provided from National Office. In September, 1920, the National Council approved a loan on second mortgage on the factory building, which was to be erected by the Maritime Association for the Blind from their capital fundv, and occupied by the Maritime Division CNIB broom factory. In 1928 an endowment fund campaign was conducted in the Maritime Provinces by the Maritime Division CNIB, with income only to be used for current expenses. Because of local diffidence concerning money being held by CNIB, whose Head Office was in Ontario, it was considered desirable to set up the Maritime Foundation for the Blind, with local trustees who invested monies and turned over the annual income to the Maritime Division, CNIB for local current expenses. This continued until 1964 when the trustees then in office resigned and elected the Executors and Directors of the Maritime Division CNIB as the new trustees. This money had been raised entirely at the expense of and with the staff provided by The Canadian National Institute for the Blind. In February 1968 an Act will be presented to the Government of Nova Scotia requesting that the Maritime Foundation be wound up, when its funds will then be in the hands of the Maritime Division, CNIB. In 1930 the building in Halifax . the title of which was held by the Maritime Association for the Blind, was turned over to the Maritime Foundation for the Blind. In 1944 the Maritime Division purchased the Halifax building from the Maritime Foundation for the Blind . the money being added to the en¬dowment under the trusteeship of the Maritime Foundation.

The foregoing will indicate the difficulties that had to be surmounted in establishing a CNIB Division in an area where blind people and their problems were well known.

This is not intended as criticsm of the local attitudes or of persons or organizations because it must be realized that the people in Central Canada endeavouring to establish a national organization, because they were

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convinced it was right and could give the most compre¬hensive and best service,,were not necessarily well¬known locally, although Mr. Wood and Mr. Vints were former Haligonians. Local organizations and people were diffident or cautious about relinquishing their identity and vested interests to an unknown organization which was unable to guarantee success. This was true in all areas and understandable.

The difficulties of establishing the Western Division on a firm foundation were even greater. A committee was formed in 1918 to investigate the situation and the needs in Western Canada. The members of this committee were Mr. Harris Turner, who at that time was a member of the Saskatchewan legislature; the Rev. Dr. A.T. Barnard, who was on the staff of a boys’ college in the west, and Dr. T. Milroy of Winnipeg, (all of whom were sightless) and a representative from the Western Association for the Blind. The needs were obvious, and the Western Division, CNIB, was created in September, 1919, with funds provided by National Office, until local income could be obtained. By August, 1920, the work was temporarily suspended because of financial and other difficulties, later that year resumed, and in March 1921, the Division was abolished, and the disposition of the men working in the broom shop left in the hands of the Director and General Secretary for solution, By 1922 a British Columbia Committee was established and the broom shop was reopened. The committee continued to operate until June, 1926, when it was authorized as the British Columbia Division and plans made for a campaign for funds. Financial difficulties continued until in Cdo@- , lc,’29, Dr. John A. MacDonald of Halifax, sightless, was sent to British Columbia to conduct a campaign under the auspices of the B.C. Division Board of Management. Because of the stock market depression, after the campaign was organized, the campaign realized only about $100,000, the objective for which had been $150,000. In that same year Alberta and British Columbia amalgamated, reforming the Wastern Division. At this time Captain M.C. Robinson was appointed Superintendent on the recommendation of Col. Baker, and under his leader-ship the Western Division, later the British Columbia Division, was developed and established on a firm foundation. He remained as Superintendent until his retirement on July 31it, 1964, and had developed a strong Division with a good service record, though of course services must continue to grow and develop constantly. This was an area in which initially there was little or nothing on which to build and the interest of the general public was very inadequate.

The Province of Quebec was a very difficult area in which to establish a Division, because of lack of co-operation, and it was not until September, 1930, that the Quebec Division was established, though library and some other services had been given. Of course it was impossible to develop the registration of blind people until a Division was established, but this Division now has a fairly complete registration and the service programme has gradually improved.

Looking at the development of the CNIB work

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chronologically, the first meeting of the Council, which was composed of the ChartQy ibmbers, was held on March 18th, 1918. At that meeting Sir Arthur Pearson was elected Honorary President, E.A. Bakcr was elected Vice-President, and Dr. C.R. Dickson, General Secretary, all sightless. As stated before, the Charter under the Dominion Companies Act was granted March 30th.

On April 10th a committee was appointed to negotiate and close a contract with Mr. C.W. Holmes as Director of the CNIB. This contract was approved by Council on May 6th, for a five year period, to take effect as from July lst.

On May 6th at the meeting of Council, the Department of Soldiers Civil Re-establishment representative advised the Government was considering training of the war¬blinded by the CNIB, and this was subsequently agreed to.

July lst, work on CNIB began in earnest, with the registration of blind persons undertaken.

On August 6th, Mr. Lewis Miller Wood was elected President on the resignation of Dr. C.R. Dickson from this office.

August 15th, the CNIB office was moved from 142 College Street to @6 King Street East, Toronto, in rented office space.

Saptember 16th, D.J. McDougall, a blinded soldier and graduate from the School of Massage in England, was engaged by CNIB as massage instructor for Hart House, where war blinded students could be trained with sighted returned soldiers, in massage, his salary temporarily to be paid by CNIB. This was very shortly taken over by the Military Hospital Commission. On this same date it was reported that the first Home Teacher had been engaged.

September 23rd, the establishment of a club house, where residence accommodation could be provided for the war blinded in training, was discussed and subsequently communicated to the DSCR, as well as a request for more satisfactory provision for the training of these men than was possible aa proposed, at the CNIB Industrial Department for’Men, to open on October lst.

October lst, Broom Shop or Industrial Department for Men opened at 455 King Street West, Toronto.

October 28th, Pearson Hall, 186 Beverley Street, Toronto, was leased. This residence had-been built and occupied by the Honourable George Brown, one of the Fathers of Confederation, and is now marked as a historic site. More formal training for the war blinded commenced as of this date.

Approval was given for the engagement of a
graduate of Montreal General Hospital, as the Prevention of Blindness worker.

November llth, the Canadian Passenger Association advised that the CNIB workers were entitled to prescribed special rates on railways, authorized for charitable organizations.

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December gth, it was reported to Council that the garment factory for women had been opened at 42 Adelaide Street, West, Toronto, where machine knitting, reed basketry, chair caning and,weaving were also being taught, and aprons and housedresses were being manu¬factured for sale.

In January, 1919, Sir Arthur Pearson visited Canada to formally open Pearson Hall. In this same month a public meeting was held in I,-iassey Hall at which Sir Arthur Pearson was the speaker on work for the blind. Approximately 2,000 people attended,

On Nay lst, 1919, the first tag day in support of CMIB work was held in Toronto under the auspices of the Women’s Auxiliary, the amount raised being 041,974. The last annual campaign held by the Woments Auxiliary was in 1956, and the amount raised was @,p458,700. This was a subscription campaign only, as tag days were discountinued in 1945. In 1957 GNIB joined the United Appeal in Toronto.

In June the Ontario Division was established. In July the American Association of lorkers for the Blind convention was held in Toronto, being their first convention held in Canada. In July the Thritime Division came into being; in September, the Central Western Division; covering Manitoba and Saskatchewan; the Western Division, covering Alberta and British Columbia, were established. In November an agreement was reached with the Halifax School for the Blind for transfer to the Etritime Division, CNIB; of certain funds, held@in trust for home teaching, and this was applied to the home teaching service of the Maritime Division.

In that same month the first course for poultry keepers was commenced, with Cecil Purkis, who was trained at St. Dunstan’s, as instructor. This course was for the war-blinded and was held at his poultry farm at Preston, Ontario.

In November the Federal Government authorized a grant of $50,000 for the purchase of Pearson Hall as a residence for the war blinded in training, and the erection of a suitable building for training quarters.

In December the Canadian National Library for the Blind amalgamated with the CHIB and became known as the Library Department, CNIB.

In 1920 the first training class for home teachers was held; a residence at 331 Sherbourne Street, Toronto, was purchased as the Clarkewood Residence for Women, replacing the rented house at 78 College.Street opened the previous year. The CNIB Publishing Department was 6rganized and a small periodical commenced, which is¬now known as the Braille Courier. On September 15th, 19201 Col. E. A. Baker came on the CNIB staff as General Secretary.

The foregoing will give an idea of the fairly rapid development of CNIBts services in the first two years. Now will be given a general picture of development from then to the present.

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In order to register blind persons, names were secured in the beginning from any possible source. When free radio licences were granted for blind persons in January, 1928, lists of applicants were submitted to CNIB by the Federal Government,for verification, and those not registered were visited by CNIB and registration information obtained, includin, an eye report, where applicable. This service strengthened the confidence of the Government in CNIB. Applications for pensions for the blind were originally submitted to CNIB for approval of eye reports by consultant ophthalmologists, so that the administration of this legislation would be uniform across Canada. This function is now performed by the Blindness Control Division of the Federal Government Department of National Health and Welfare. The Government relies on CNIB as the national agency from whom definite particulars are available and whose register is as complete and accurate as possible.

Originally, the registration policy allowed 20% and under for adults, and 33 1/n% for children. In November, 1926, this policy was revised, after consultation with leading ophthalmologists, basing registration on 6/60 and undeo after correction, for children and adults, except in cases of rapid deterioration when 20% was allowed. In 1945 the basis for registration was changed to 6/60 or 20/200, after correction, but allowing for 100 limit in the field of vision, as a restricted field reduces the usefulness of above standard. In such cases, slightly higher degree of central vision is permitted. In June, 1959, this standard was again revised on recommendation of the Canadian Ophthalmological Society to 6/60,after correction, or 20/>OO Snellen Chart. With limitation of both fields slightly more central vision is permitted with limitation of field allowed being to an angle of less than 200.

The world’s worst survey on the causes of blindness was completed in 1964 by Dr. A.E. MacDonald, CNIB Consultant Onhthalmologist. It is the first study to cover every age level from the cradle to the grave and was based on the eye reports of the 24,600 blind persons registered by CNIB. This syrvey fills a need recognized as early as 1857 when epidemic blindness brought about the first International Congress of Ophthalmologists at Brussels. Dr. MacDonald has presented this survey in a paper to this Congress at its last meeting.

Early in 1922 when the war-blinded of the First World War had completed their training and were settled in their own homes, National Office and Ontario Division Head Office were moved from 36 King Street East, Toronto, to Pearson Hall at 186 Beverly Street, Toronto. As leases on rented space expired, the Garment Factory and Basketr7 Department were moved to this location and subsequently the Library Department. Under agreement with the D.S.C.R. and now the Department of Veterans Affairs,club rooms for the war-blinded have always been retained.

In 1924 the Blind Voters’ Act, sponsored by CNIB, was adopted by Alberta and has since been adopted in all provinces. In 1924 the use of silver nitrate for the prevention of blindness in new-born infants became required by law in Ontario and is now compulsory in all

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the H In May, 1926, Old Age Pensions were adopted by ouse of Commons, applicable at age 70, subject to the Means Test, the amounttof the allowance being $20.00 per month. This applied to blind persons as well. Investigation and work on this subject had commenced by CNIB in 1921, and will be dealt with in more detail later. The Blind Persons Act was adopted by the Federal Government in 1951, and the age at which blind persons are eligible has been reduced over the years until it is now applicable at the age of 18, and the monthly allowance is $?5, subject to.the Means Test.

In 1926 the first CNIBtnews-stand opened in Toronto.

In 1928 the placement of blind workers in industrial plants commenced, and application was made for a Blind Morkmen’s Compensation Act, which ultimately was adopted by all provinces, with the exception of Manitoba, and will be covered in the session on legislation.

In 1929 the first canteen with a blind manager was opened at Page Hersey Tubes Company in Welland, Ontario, and that year the Library and Publishing Department
moved from 142 College Street to 64 Baldwin Street, Toronto.

In 1932 the first blind Field Secretary was appointed. Prior to this date a sighted staff member had organized campaigns in some of the larger cities and towns in Ontario.

The first blind Dictaphone Transcriptionist placed b7 CNIB outside its own offices, was in 1932 with the London Life Insurance Company. This was Miss Kathryn Sells, who retired November 30th, last year, having served two years beyond normal retirement. There was no formal training for Miss Sells or other Dictaphone Transcriptionists until the opening of the Vocational Training Class in November, 1952.

In 1933 the Leathercraft Department was opened in Toronto. The first Advisory Board of CNIB was established in Hamilton, covering Wentworth County.

In 1934 the Stands and Cafeterias Department separated frot,the Placement Department.

In 1935 the first part-time consultant opthal¬mologist was appointed by CNIB in the person of Dr. F.A. Aylesworth.

In 1943 Baker Hall at 178 Admiral Road, Toronto, was purchased and opened as a residence for those blinded in the Second World War during their training period. Training was carried on at Pearson Hall. The training and after-care for the war-blinded has always been given under agreement with the Department of Veterans Affairs and is paid for by the Federal Government. At the outbreak of the Second World War, under agreement with the Federal Government, all casualties resulting in blindness were communicated to the CNIB National Office, following advice to the next of kin. Such

2 4 –

casualties were then reported to St. Dunstan’s by CNID who made contact with the injured person as soon as possible and offered the services of St. Dunstanis for trainino, which as in the First World War were paid for ty the Pederal Governmept. At the same time a war-blinded man of the First “Ohld Par visited the next of kin in Canada. This alleviated to some extent, their distress and anxieties and generally made possible more normal and cheerful correspondence between the injured person and the family. This also made the eventual home-coming easier for all concerned. Since the Second World War there has been a War Blinded After-Care Officer on CNIB National Office staff, carrying the responsibility for service to those blinded while on military duty. Formerly this responsibility was carried by Col.Baker, following the completion of training.

In 1944 a special exemption was granted blind persons under the Dominion Income Tax Act. These special acts were all the result of presentations to the Government by CNIB.

In the summers of 1945, 146 and @51 the CNIB Prevention of Blindness nurse accompanied an ophthalmologist and optician to the Arctic, under the auspices of the CNIBand the Dominion Department of Northern Affairs on the Federal Government ship that makes the expedition once each year. Classes were provided where required and the ophthalmologist performed surgery where necessary and possible. Reports were made to the Federal Covernment on the results of these surveys. The Federal Covernment now covers this service. Any blind person referred to CHIP and eligible fcr-registration receives services applicable and possible from CNIB.

In 1947 the corner stone was laid for the first CNIB residence and service centre, which was located in St. Catharines.

Ontario adored the White Cane Act this same year, which has now been adopted by all provinces.

In 1949 the Pre-school Blind Children’s Department opened at National Office, now the Children’s Department.

The Vocational Training Course was commenced in November 1952 . specifically for the more formal and efficient training of Home Teachers, Field Secretaries and Placement Officers to serve on CNIB staff across Canada and for Dictaphone Trans¬criptionists for placement in offices in general business or CNIB.

CNIB National Office has a Music Consultant on staff who is available to counsel and secure help where necessary for students in the field of music. The first National Music Conference was held at National Office in 1964, bringing together 65 music teachers, artists and piano technicians from across Canada for a four-day seminar. This year a Piano Tuners’ Conference will be held following the AAWB General meeting in Toronto and every 3 years thereafter. The next National Music Conference will be held in 1970 and every 5 years thereafter.

Another service developed over the years has been assistance to those blind students attending university. For undergraduate work the Divisions make a grant for reader assistance, where needed, and for post-graduate students this same service is given by National Office. Texts for students are recorded or transcribe into Braille ty volunteers. Through representations by CVIB, practically all universities in Canada now grant free tuition to blind students.

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On November llth ” 1954v Col. Baker laid the cornerstone for the Feadquarters property’knqwn as Baker Wood, located in Toronto, for which a financial campaign was held in the spring of 1954, with an objecti0elof t3,l5O,OOO. The final total obtained was ?3,350,000.

On April 16th, 1956, the official opening of PakerWood was held, with His Excellency the Covernor-General Vincent Massey officiating. Ty this date National Office, the Ontario Division Head Office and all Service Departments had been moved from their scattered and sometimes inadequate locations throughout Metro Toronto, and consolidated under one roof where more efficient administration is possible.

The Eye Bank of Canada was established in 1954 inspired by National Office working in co-operation with the University of Toronto and has now spread across Canada. CNIB files record more than 50,000 citizens have pledged their eyes on death, 8,463 being pledged in the last fiscal year. In this last fiscal year 892 eyes were received and 348 transplants performed.

In 1957 the Cornea Transplant Act was adopted by the Province of New Brunswick and has since been adopted by all provinces, on representations by CYIE Divisions.

In 1961 the Pise Owl Club of Canada was inaugurated. Below is Fiven background history of origin of Vise Owl Club.

The Wise Owl Club of American, an industrial.eye safety organization, was formed in 1947 as the result of an idea ,dropped into a suggestion lox at the St. Louis plant of ACF Industries, Inc. Shortly afterward, sponsorship was assumed by the National Society for the Prevention of Blindness, N.Y., the nations leading nonprofit sight conservation agency, as an incentive to intelligent eye safety.

The prime purpose of the club is to encourage the use of safety eyewear to reduce needless and costly eye injuries. Each of the members of the Club, which includes men and women workers and vocational school students, has saved the sight of at least one eye by wearing eye protection at the time of an on-the-job accident. Each member receives a certifi¬cate, Fold lapel pin and shop badge identifying him as a Wise Owl.

Canada became associate with the Wise Owl movement when the Canadian National Institute for the Plind beran endorsing certificates presented to Canadians in 1957. In January 1961 CMIB became responsible for the administration of Wise Owl Awards and the Canadian organization became known as the Wise Owl Club of Canada. The first Canadian Wise Owl News¬sheet was published in “arch 1967.

In this same year Lake Joseph Camp was built and opened by the Ontario Division.

In 1962 the first order for 200 Tape Talkinq Book Machines and 600 cassettes was placed by the Chief Librarian.

In 1963 Bowen Island Camp was built and opened by the
British Columbia Division.

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In 1964 a brief was submitted to the Royal Commission on Bilingualism and Biculturalism by CNIB National Office, also one to the Senate Committee on Ageing.

In 1965 submission w6%,mpde by CNIB to the Ontario Government Select Committee on Youth by the Ontario Division.

In February a capital fund campaign was held in Newfoundland for a divisional headquarters and service centra in St. John’s and the furnishing of a new building in Corner Brook.

This is the latest capital campaign in a CNIB Division. Such campaigns have been held in all other Divisions over the years with the exception of Quebec and that Division has the organization of a campaign well underway which it is anticipated will take place this year, but no announcement can be made until the date is fixed and approved. Up to March 31st, 1965, the total value of buildings owned by CNIB across Canada was approximately $11,250,000, all paid for. This, of course, gives just the physical assets of GNIB but without adequate working facilities, services cannot be carried on or developed efficiently. It also indicates the confidence and good will of the general public and governments at all levels.

Originally all monies were raisod from the general public with supportinz Government grants for which application was made. In Ontario a formula now exists for G-ov@r@,nt grants to hospital, aged and charitable home construction, amounting to $2,500 per bed. The balanco is raised from the general public. In legislation forecast in the recant Sp3ach from the Throne, this may be increased to $5,000 pe0bed in Ontario.

Also, in 1965, a pilot project Pas opened at the University of Manitoba for training of four blind young men as Computer Programmers. All are now graduated and placed in employment.

Tho B.C. Division name was changed to British Columbia-Yukon Division.

Adjustment Training on a more formal basis for newly blind persons;was begun a few years ago. Tho training given will be covered by the Head of this Department in his lecture time.

Navigation Training is now given in all Divisions across Canada, either locally or under arrangement with another Division that has this service available. The long cane technique is used. CNIB has plways been active in testing now electronic aids. The latost investigated in 1965 was the ultra-sonic dovice, designed to aid blind pedestrians to walk with safety. Further investigation is boing made.

In June, 1966, National Council has authorized Mr. A.N. Magill to attend the International Conference nn Sensory Devices for the Blind, to be hold in London England, to which ho has bear invited by St. Dunstan’s the organization sponsoring this conference.

2 7-

Dog guives have received yide attention and much consi¬deration by CRIP. This service requires a very expensive setup and is applicable to a vpry”small portion of registered blind people,,accord!nF to research carried out at Columbia University under the auspices of the Seeing Eye of Morristown N.Y. The age limit for applicants is generally between 16 and-55. After thorough investigation and intensive discussion the CNIB National Council concluded the most economical and practical way to provide this service to those Canadians who desired and could make practical use of a dog guide was to purchase such service. in 1939 an agreement was entered into with the Seeing Eye, Incorporated, of Norristown, N.J. on an agreed basis, for the purchase of doF guides and training of approved applicants, this organization having been found most efficient and reputable in this particular field of service.

In April, 1965, a similar agreement was entered into with Guide Dogs for the Blind, Inc., of San Raphael, California, to serve applicants residina in Itstern Canada, if desired. Dogs proviced by this organization cost more than those from Seeing Eye, Inc., because it is not as well endowed.

railways in Canada crantet two fares for the price of one for a blind person travelling with an escort, and the necessary voucher is administered through the CNID. In 1965 this was revised to 20%reduction for the blind person and for the escort, or blind person travelling alone. Buses grant concession of two fares for the cost of one. For trans¬Atlantic travel by ship a blind person is granted one and a half fares for two when travelling with an escort on certificate of the CUIB. Post P I 0 lines allow a similar discount. So far no concessions have been granted by the airlines thoufh frequent application have been made locally and by the World Council on an international basis.

In most large cities free transit transportation is granted to blind people and generally is administered by the local CNIE office.

Before the establishment of CYIB, blind beggars were not uncommon on the streets of the larger cities in Canada. NeFotiations were initiated with most city departments concerned with licensing, with the result that in the City of Toronto, for instance, where beggars must have a licence, the City does not’issue such to a blind person without consultation with CNIB in an effort to provide suitable em-ployment for the applicant. As the original group of beggars disappeared from the streets through age, illness or death, few, if any, have been licensed, and there is little excuse today when pensions are paid, and in most cases supplementary income can be earned in home occupations or-occupational shops This same system of licensing operates in some other areas as well.

Services arranged from outside sources, such as corres¬pondence courses given by the Hadley School- books, magazines, periodicals for the library etc., are paid for by CNIB on an agreed basis. This policy maintains such arrangements on a fair business basis and eliminates the necessity for fund-raising in Canada by organizations based in other countries.

While not all services are available in all Divisions, development of services in each area has been steadily going forward. In 1965 Pational Office made a survey of services available in each of the eiFht’Divisions for the purpose of evaluating the general service programme, with the hope of making available to every Division all specialized services developed in any part of the country. For statistics for the last fiscal year, refer to the Hational Annual Report. This will also give a resume of some of the current services.

On January 9th, 1968 the cornerstone was laid at Baker Wood for the Vocational Training building where class rooms and residence accommodation will be available for students.

The above are but highlights of development and accomplish¬ments of the CNIB, and all have’ requireo a great deal of work, considerable travelling, endless meetin7s, consultations and correspondence, flexibility as well as much patience.

Col. Baker had many interests and affiliations outside the CNIB which are here covered in part to give an idea of the breadth of his contacts, all of which brought the CNIB before a wide audience. He was a member of the Great War Veterans’ Association from 1916, and continued as a member of the Canadian LeFion British Empire Service League, with which the GWVA amalgamate&.

In 1921 he joined the War Amputations of Canada, Toronto Branch, and in 1923 was elected to the Dominion Council of the War Amputations of Canada. Be has been a member of the Sir Arthur Pearson Club of Plinded Sailors and Soldiers from its inception in 1922, the organization now known as the Sir Arthur Pearson Association of Par Blinded. He attended the first reunion of the Sixth Field Company Canadian Engineers, with which he had serveo overseas, in 1923, and subsequently was elected PresiVent of their Feunion Committee. Annual reunions are held and he continues to attend. In 1926 he joined, and is still a member of the War Pensioners of Canada Association. In 1927 he and rr. Weir attended the biennial convention of the American Association of Workers for the Blind in Atlantic City, when Col. Baker presented a paper concerning the work of the CNIB. he served a term as President of this organization, as did Captain Robinson, Superintendent of the B.C. Division and Mr. A. N. Magill, now CHIB Managing Director is the current President of AAWB. Col. Baker was presented with the Shotwell award by the AAWB in 1952. In 1954 he became a life member. Many of the staff of CNIB are members of the AAWB and several have held office in this organization. The AAWB held its second Canadian convention in Toronto in 1937, itsthird in Canada in Quebec City in 1955 and will hold its fourth Convention in Canada in Toronto in 1968 CNIB’s 50th Anniversary year. In 1929 Col. Baker attended the St. Dunstan’s Conference on Commonwealth War Flinded, held in London, England. The following year he unveiled the Shriners’ Peace Nemorial in the Canadian National Exhibition grounds, Toronto, during the American and Canadian Shrine Con¬vention. In 1933 he attended the Sixth Biennial Conference of the Canadian Legion in London, England. In 1934 he was elected to the Forest Hill Village School Board, in which area he lived, and that year joined the Canadian Corps Association at its inception, and he is now the Honorary Dominion President. Fe was appointed and attended the first meeting of the Soldiers’ Aid Commission of Ontario, established by the Provincial Government, and was appointed chairman, in which office he served for 16 years. In 1936 he was appointed to the Forest flill Village School Board of Health, and in that summer attended the Vimy pilgrimage to France. In 1939 Queen’s University, from which he had graduated in 1914, conferred on him an honorary LL.D. degree. In 1954 the Queen’s Alumni, Toronto Branch, gave its first award to a

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graduate of Queen’s for outstanding achievement, to Col-Baker. In 1945 the University of Toronto also conferrer on him an honorary LL.D. degree. In 1903 Co. Faker joined,the National Council of Veterans’ Associations in Canada at its inception, was elected President and served in this office until 1961. In’1947 on invitation of the Trinidad and Tobago Government he made a survey of the need for work for the blind, submitted his recommendations, and subseouently Mr. D.P. Lawley was loaned by CPIB for a period of several months to organize the work, and a Home Teacher on the staff of CNIB whose¬family had come to Toronto from Trinidad. was employed by the AssQcia¬tion there, on recommendation of CNIB. Late in September 1967CHIB General Manager attended the Commonwealth Caribbean Conference on Work for the Blind held in Port-of-Spain, Trinidad under the leader¬ship of the Trinidad and Tobago Blind Welfare Association, with sponsorship of the Royal Commonwealth Society for the Blind and assistance from the American Foundation for Overseas Blind both of whom were represented and United Nations agencies. Resolutions passed at the Conference called for a regional plan, establishment of a Caribbean Council for the Blind with membership from each of the Islands, preservation of sight, involving government and agency pro¬grammes and a Prevention of Blindness week- legislation to insure compilation of a national register of the estimated 10,000 blind, free education for blind children, support of recognized institutions providing rehabilitation, training and employment services for the blind, and ratification of the Universal Postal Union agreement on postal privileges for the blind. It was felt registration should be done by the government on the basis of the international defini¬tion of blindness, i.e. a visual acuity not exceeding 3/60 in the better eye with correction. It was recommended that the governments accept responsibility for provision of primary, secondary and univer¬sity education for the blind and visually handicapped-and establish schools where they do not exist. Also recommended were library service, employment service for the blind training of blind workers international co-operation from appropria e agencies such as t-he United Nations, the Royal Commonwealth Society for the Blind, the American Foundation for Overseas Blind and the CHIB. CNIB offered to train suitable workers from the area, subject to local organi¬zations paying transportation and maintenance.

In 1948 Col.Baker was asked to be a member of a committee of executives of national voluntary agencies for discussion, mutual benefit and assessment of Welfare needs, which in 1953 became the Canadian Conference of National Voluntary Health and ltlfare Organi¬zations, and at that time Col. Baker was elected Chairman. This organization is now disbanded, The National Review Committee of the United Appeals now assesses the National Organizations and their bud¬gets each year. In 1949 Col. Baker attended the International Con¬ference of Workers for the Blind, which was held in Oxford, England, when discussion took place on the formation of a World Council. The World Council for the Vtlfare of the Blind came into being in 1951 at an assembly in Paris, France, at which Col. Baker was not present, but he was elected their first President and served in this office until August 1964, when he was elected an Honorary Life Member and a Member-at-Large on the Executive Committee of WCVB. Mr. A.N. Nagill was elected to replace Col.Baker as one of the two Canadian represen¬tatives to WCWB and was elected to the Executive Committee at this meeting. At the Executive meeting in Belgrade he was appointed Chair¬man of the Programme Committee for the next General Assembly to be held in New Delhi, India in November 1969.

Col. Baker was awarded the “imel medal in 1951 by the Pnerican Foundation for the Blind ‘For Oustanding Service to the Blind’, the presentation being made by Dr. Helen Keller. In 1954 he was awarded the Leslie Dana Medal for Prevention of Blindness by the St. Louis Society for the Blind, the National Society for the Prevention of Blindness, and the Association for Research in Ophthalmology in St. Louis, Mo. In 1956 he was appointed the only lay member of the Canadian Ophthalmological Society at its convention in Quebec City.

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This Society was formed in 1937 and has worked closely with CMID. Since Col. Baker’s retirement from CNIE staff Mr. Magill has also been appointed a lay member of this Society at their meetin7 in June 1965. In 1958 thp Royal Victorian Institute for the ElinO in Australia presented Col.Paker with an award In appreciation of services rendered to the Plind . In 1960 the first Helen Keller award for distinguished service to the blind was presented to hi7 on the occasion of Helen Keller’s 80th birthday, by the American Foundation for Overseas Blind. In 1961 the Brotherhood of Eeth Sholom Synagogue in Toronto made an award to him ‘For splendid achievements in the field of humanitarian service in the Dominion of Canada. For furthering the cause of brotherhood by being friend and benefactor to all men regardless of colour, race or creed . In 1952 Col. Baker was appointed to the newly established National Advisory Council on the Rehabilitation of Disabled Persons by the Federal Government. to which Mr. A. N. Magill was appointed after Col. Bakeris retirement.

During the years that Col. faker was President of the World Council for the Welfare of the Elind he attended meetings of the Fxecutive Committee and the standing committees, as well as the general assemblies held in Paris. Rome and New York. These Committee meetings have been held in Paris, France7 Brussells, Netherlands:, Rome, Italy London, FnFland! Hanover, Germany- Guatemala City, Central America- Australia, rew Zealand, and in Columbo, Ceylon, when Col. Baker visited Malaya. In February 1962, the E.A. Baker Foundation for the Prevention of Blindness was established by Fational Council with a minimum objective of 01,000,000, the total now being over $660,000. A Committee on Professional Trainin7 was established with Col. Baker as a member, to recommend expenditures from this fund, from which erasers for research and to further the knowle0ge and trainin7 of ophthalmologists have been made. In Nay 1962, National Council authorized a b biography of Col. Faker and the history of CRIBto be written and published by McClelland and Stewart, which was officially presented to the public on September 30th, 1965, under the title No Compromise@ written by Marjorie Wilkins Campbell. In 1964 the Canadian Council of the Blind presented Col. Baker and myself with their Award of “erit and Honorary Life Member¬ship. Col. Baker is still being honouyed. In February 1966 the City of Toronto presented him with a Civic Award of Merit and in “ay the World Veterans’ Federation presented him with their Trophy during their Conference in Toronto, for his services in the field of rehabilitation. On November 24th, 1967, at the Investiture by the Governor-General at Government House, Rideau Hall, Ottdwa, Col. Faker was one of the first thirty-five Canadians made Companions of the Order of Canada. On June 2th, 1968 the city of Kingston presented him with a medal of achievement at a meeting of the City Council. All these occassions bring honour to blind people generally and forward the knowledge of The Canadian National Institute for the Blind.

As a further evidence of the confidence in CPIB and its broadening experience, ir. A. F. Magil was loaned to the Unitel Nations in 1953, when he proceeded to Egypt to set up a pilot project in work for the blind for the Arab States. At the request of the U.7. he returned to Egypt for a second year in 1955, during which he made a survey in Syria and Lebanon and in 1957 returned to Egypt for about six weeks to check on progress there and also visited Syria and Lebanon.

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LEGISLATION RELATIVE TO THE BLIND IN GANADA

PENSIONS FOR THE BLIND

This subject is covered in detail as it was the most difficult and time-consuming effort to obtain legislative enactment and gives some idea of the procedures and work involved in any request for special legislation.

On March 18th, 1921, Col. E. A. Baker, then General Secretary of CNIB, wrote to the (then);National Institute for the Blind, London, England, requesting a copy of the Blind PersonsK Act, 1920, of Great Britain. This Act provided for payment of pensions to blind persons under the Old Age Pensions Act, 1908-1919, at age fifty instead of seventy.

This Act was studied and widely discussed within
CNIB National Council, Division Boards of Management, with blind persons and members of Government.

In July, 1923, Col. Baker wrote to Mr. Francis Ierardi of the Massachusetts Commission for the Blind, for information on pensions legislation in the United States. He was advised that 17 States then had pensions for the needv blind, varying in amounts paid and regulations .

In March, 1924, Col. Baker wrote to Mr. W. G. Raymond, member of the House of Commons from Brtntford, who was blind, but possessed useful guiding vision. He was a member of CNIB National Council and had been interested in the Ontario School for the Blind for some 20 years. This letter outlined a very comprehensive programme for assistance to blind people in Canada and the desirability of legislation covering prevention of blindness and provision for blind people, which included the suggestion of an old age pension allowance applicable to blind persons on and after the age of 55. (This suggested age had a question mark after it.) In 1924 and 1925, Mr. Raymond was Chairman of a special committee established by the Federal Government to carry out investigations leading to Old Age Pensions legislation. Activity continued within the CNIB and resolutions of National Council were communicated to the Federal’Governtent. As well, the co-operation of various organizations interested in the welfare of aged people generally was solicited in order to avoid what might have been considered a purely class movement, and because it was felt a high percentage of sighted people over 70 and blind people over 50 were economically unemployable. Mr. Raymond advised that the committee of which he was Chairman was the first committee that ever brought in a definite plan, although the subject had been under investigation since 1907 by committees of the House of Commons. It was intended to hold a conference in the fall of 1925 between the Faderal Government and the Premiers of the Provinces, which was to be attended by Mr. Raymond and one member of his committee, but a general election was called and this frustrated the plan.

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However, a recommendation was made by this committee during the final session of the House before it prorogued, when all committees were disbanded.

In April, 1925, Clutha MaqKenzie wrote to Col. Baker outlining the new pension for civilian blind persons adopted by the Government of New Zealand, effective December lst, 1924, making pensions for the blind applicable at 20 years of age by an amendment of the long-standing Old Age Pension Act.

Efforts were continued in Canada to have legislation adopted by enlisting the support of clubs of blind people, service clubs, welfare organizations, etc., in sending resolutions, petitions or letters to the Prime Minister and their local Members of the House of Commons.

In answer to a letter to the Minister of Labour in April, 1926, Col. Baker received the following reply:

“Dear Sir:

“Replying to your letter of the 21st ult., which came to hand in due course, requesting advice as to whether an amendment to the Bill with respect to Old Age Pensions at present under consideration,might be affected, by which a reduction might be made in the age limit applied to the blind, perhaps your request can best be answered by quoting the statement made by the Prime Minister as appearing pn page 2647 of Hansard of April i6th, in answer to Mr. Woodsworth, M.P.:

‘I was just going t6 say to my friend from Winnipeg North Centre in regard to the case of the blind, of whom he has spoken, that I imagine there is no class in the community for whom we would desire to do more than for those who are deprived of their sight, but I think the matter of blindness ought to be considered independently of old age. This is experimental legislation at this stage, and I am afraid that if we burden it unduly by adding to old age other features, we may have difficulty in getting the general support we would like to have for this legislation. I would be inclined to think that any suggestion of that kind had better be deferred until after the statute is enacted, and if the provinces wish to make that proposal themselves in their own legislation, there would always be the opportunity if it were deemed advisable, to have our legislation amended. There is a further fact that the Federal Government at the present time is appropriating some money, not a great deal, specifically for the blind. I have in my hand a copy of the estimates, and one item, under Miscellaneous, refers to a

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vote that we expect to get from
Parliament for the blind – Grant to The Canadian National Institute for the Blind, $10,OQO. If I recollect aright, there wasospme other vote for the blind we did appropriate in a previous year. I think we had better not at present introduce a new feature in this legislation.’

“Further I might also quote a reply made by the Prime Minister on Arril Igth to Mr. Wilson, M.P.:

‘The Government’s policy with respect to the Old Age Pension scheme, referred to in the question, is set forth in full in the legislation now before Parliament. In the opinion of the Government, it would be inadvisable to introduce any additional features to the legislation now before Parliament.’

Yours very truly,

(Sgd.) J.C. Elliot,
Minister of Labour.v

On May 28th, 1926, the Old Age Pension Act was adopted by the House of Commons, applicable to all citizens at the age of 70, subject to the Meana-Test and a residence clause. This was on a shared basis with the provinces and subject to adoption by each province and agreement with the Federal Government.

The pension authorized was $20 per month with additional income of $125 per annum permitted, a total of $365 per annum. All provinces adopted this legislation with the exception of Quebec and New Brunswick.

New Brunswick adopted Old Age Pensions in 1935.

Quebec adopted Old Age Pensions in 1936.

In February, 1927, Col. Baker met with the Minister of Ldbour, then the Honourable Mr. Heenan, who promised to do his best to secure the inclusion of an amendment to the Old Age Pensions Act, granting pensions to the blind at the age of 50.

By the beginning of 1932, the Manitoba League of
the Blind had been set up for the purpose of coordinating the request from blind people for pensions.

Every effort continued to be made for a Blind Persons’ Act or reduction in the age at which pensions became payable to blind persons, without success. Finally, in October, 1933, a united memorial was presented to the Rt. Honourable, the Prime Minister and the Government of Canada, signed by the National Council and all Divisions of CNIB, all branches of the

Canadian Federation of the Blind, the Montreal Association School for the Blind, the Ontario Association for the Blind, the Comrades Club, L’Aide aux Aveugles, the French-Canadian Association for the Blind, the Nil Desperandum Club of the Blind, Mr. A. A. Archibald, teacher of the Department for the Blind of thy Provincial School for the Deaf and the Blind of British Columbia, the Reliance Club of the Blind, the White Stick Club, Saskatchewan Provincial Committee on Welfare of the Blind, the Manitoba League of the Blind, the United Blind Persons Committee, the London Association of the Blind, Dr. W. B. Race, Superintendent of the Ontario School for the Blind, The Star of Hope Club of the Blind, The Excelsior Club of the Blind, the Nazareth Institute for the Blind the Quebec Association for the Blind. These signatures represented blind people across the whole of Canada. The memorial read as follows and was addressed to the Government of Canada:

“Gentlemen:

“The underlying reasons which led to the provision of pensions for the blind In Great Britain, Australia and New Zealand are precisely the same as those obtaining in Canada. Apace with a growing strength of public opinion supporting a movement in this direction for Canada, representations have been continued seeking legislation.

“During the past three years the problem itself has become accentuated by reason of individuals, families and agencies who have been contributing in support of dependent blind people, finding it increasingly difficult to meet the need because of conditions. On the other hand, the provision of general unemployment relief funds only deals with such cases from a destitution standpoint and does not recognize (a world accepted principle) that greater assistance is required to relieve the destitution of a blind person than of a sighted person. This is not a transient problem resulting from present economic conditions but is one of destitution arising from permanent unemployability because of blindness coupled with:age and/or other infirmities.

“Voluntary agencies in this and other countries
have tried to meet the need of the permanently unemployable adult blind but do recognize that sufficient private funds cannot be secured. The only adequate solution is the provision of a State pension or allowance.

“Blind persons and others interested in their behalf recognizing the difficulties of Governments under present conditions, approach the whole subject with great concern and make these representations at this time only because of the urgent need which exists.

“it is, therefore, respectfully ur3ed that legislation be enacted at the earliest possible date, providing pensions for the blind. However, if it is considered necessary to have the whole subject thoroughly

3 5 –

investigated by a special Parliamentary Committee, it is our earnest ho7e that such Committee will be appointed during the forthcoming Session pf Parliament to consider and recommend legislation.

May we assure you of our sincere desire to co¬operate in every possible way.

Respectfully submitted on behalf of::

The need of pensions for the blind at an earlier age continued to be the subject of constant study and repeated representations to Governments, both Dominion and Provincial. There was evidence of steadily increasing public understanding, sympathy and active support of pensions and other provisions for the blind. The majority of Provincial Governments expressed their support through Parliamentary discussions, resolutions, memorials addressed to the Federal Government, and the contemplation of contingent Acts. It was generally conceded that pensions for the blind should be inaugu¬rated by a Federal measure in order to ensure uniformity 6f application. while at first, there was an inevitable divergence of opinion amongst groups of blind people across the country, the differences were mainly due to variation of opinion on details affecting age limits, allowances, private earnings permitteo. etc., but the memorial presented to the Government of Canada in 1933 indicated complete agreement on the principle of pensions for the blinf.

The subject of pensions for the blind was officially discussed at the Interprovincial Conference called by the Government in January, 1934, held in Ottawa, when it was definitely established that the provinces were keenly interested and looking to the Government of Canada to lead the way in adopting pensions for the blind legislation.

In the 19?4 Session of Parliament, Dr. T. D. Cotnam, M.P., placed the following resolution on the order paper:

“That, in the opinion of this Fouse, the Federal Government should take into immediate consideration the advisability of amending the Old Age Pension Act, in order that the provisions of said Act may apply to those of 40 years of age or over who are suffering from blindness.

This was not reached in this session, but was reintroduced in the 1935 session, and in ‘ discussion which developed it was clearly evident that all parties in the Kouse of Commons were favourably disposed. Consequently, on the motion of the Honourable, the “inister of Labour, with the unanimous support of the Fouse of Commons, the question was referred to the Parliamentary Committee on Industrial and International Relations, for consideration and report.

On April lst, 1935, the Standing Committee on Industrial and International Relations presented its second report to the House of Commons on this subject, as follows:

I Your Committee has held two sessions and have heard statements from eleven persons, with respect

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to the subject matter of the resolution to it for consideration under an ordey@of the House of Commons, dated January 31st, 1935, which’resolution reads as follows:

‘Resolved that in the opinion of this House the provisions of the Old Age Pensions Act should apply to blind people over 40 years of age.’

“As persons 70 years of age and over, whether blind or not, fall within the application of the Old Age Pensions Act in its present form, your Committee considered the position of blind persons between the ages of 40 and 70.

“Evidence submitted to the Committee indicated that the Old Age Pensions Act is in force in only 7 provinces out of 9 and its provisions, therefore, when amended, will not affect blind persons living in the remaining two provinces unless these provinces subse¬quently adopt the Old Age Pensions Act or the proposed amendments thereto.

“It also indicated that records of organizations interested in the blind place the number of the blind between 40 and 70 years of age at 3016. After making fair deductions, it was stated that 2178 would be affected by legislation requested by the said resolution. These figures are sufficiently in harmony with census returns to be considered reasonably accurate.

“The estimated expenditure occasioned by the proposed legislation, if the above figures are accurate and allowing the maximum of $240.00 per person per annum, would be under $550,000-00, apart from adminis¬tration expenses.

“The Committee regrets that the.terms of the resolution, if acceded to, will be of no assistance to blind persons residing in the two provinces of Canada in which the Old Age Pensions Act is not in effect, nevertheless, in order that the blind people shall be assisted as far as reasonably possible, desires to express its approval of the resolution in question.”

On April 3rd, Mr. F. W. Turnbull (Regina) who presented the above report, moved concurrence. Dr. I. D. Cotnam, who had moved the original resolution in the house, stated that in view of the fact that the Old Age Pension Act has not been adopted by the Provinces of Quebec and New Brunswick, his resolution failed to meet the situation as intended and recognized by the above standing committee, and he moved that the words Nconcurred in” be struck out and the following substituted there for: “Referred back to the said committee with instructions that they have power to amend same by recommending that the house pass a special blind act applicable to the nine provinces of the Dominion and providing pensions for the blind over 40 years of age, on the same basis as the Old Age Pension Act”. A. W. Neill (Comox-Alberni) supported Dr. Cotnam’s resolution.

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However, the Acting Prime Minister, the Rt. Honourable Sir George Perley, stated that inasmuch as he had not heard about this before, and that it was a matter that required i good deal of consideration, he felt the report should stpnd, in order to give the Government an opportunity to consider the question raised, and the Honourable Ernest Lapointe (Quebec East) stated he was prepared to support Dr. Cotnam’s amendment, as he had intended to oppose approval of the committee’s report “as it stands”; because it would certainly be unfair to a number of blind people in Canada. He favoured a special Act for the blind irrespective of the position taken by some of the provinces with respect to the provisions of the Cld Age Pensions Act, and moved that the debate stand adjourned.

This was a serious set-back, as Parliament recessed shortly after.

Mr. Turnbull telephoned Col. Baker, advising of his disappointment and fearing nothing could be done in this session, to which Col. Baker replied by letter, indicating his disturbance and the grievous disappointment that would be felt by blind people and their sighted friends. This was followed by a trip to Ottawa by Col. Baker, when he had interviews with Mr. Turnbull, Dr. Cotnam, Dr. Stanley, the Honourable J. Vtsley Gordon, and others. On April 17th Col. Baker wrote all CNIB Division Superintendents, Advisory Boards, trade unions and others interested, advising that Parliament would reconvene on May 20th with the prospect of a short session, and prompt action was necessary if any, legislation providing pensions for the blind at’an earlier age was to be enacted this year, and asking the Superintendents to advise blind persons in their Divisions of the situation, to allay to some degree their likely great disappointment, as legislation had appeared probable and was expected by all interested.

As a result, the following resolution was adopted b7 the clubs and associations of the blind across Canada, and forwarded to the Federal-Government and otherso as indicated in the final paragraph:

“WHEREAS in special meeting of the (name of club) held this 23rd day of April, 1935, at (address) representative of the blind of the City of………. of the

County of … &.. called to consider a report that pensions for the blind may not be reached by Parliament in sufficient time to be dealt with at this session; and WHEREAS Parliamentary discussions, together with the fav6urable report of the Parliamentary Committee on Industrial and International Relations at this session have created a definite impression in the public mind (including the blind) that pensions for the blind would be the subject of legislation during the present session; and WHEREAS since 1923 there has been developing a strong public opinion favouring pensions for the blind in Canada, similar in form to that which obtains in Great Britain, Australia, and New Zealand, and that such public support has assumed great strength during recent months by reason of said Parliamentary discussion coupled with favourable legislative action in the

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majority of provincial legislative assemblies, endorsement by private and public welfare bodies, and a practically unanimous press across Canada, there being no recorded expression.to the contrary.l.

THEREFORE BE IT RESOLVED

(1)That immediately Parliament reconvenes the assistance of the Parliamentary Committee on Industrial and International Relations be requested, in order to remove any danger that the final report on pensions for the blind will not reach Parliament in plenty of time for Parliamentary discussion and governmental
action. 1

(2)That in the cause o; humane consideration of the economic problems of needy unemployable sightless Canadians any contemplative pension legislation will, it is hoped, rise above the subject of constitutional differences in opinion or meantime solution and take such form as Parliament may decide to be in the public interest.

(3)That in our opinion at this time there is nothing to add or to take away from the submissions made on behalf of the blind to the said Parliamentary Committee, and therefore, any further submission by the blind or their representative will in this respect not change the present position.

(4)That in preparing the foregoing, recognition has been given to both the difficulties of the Government and the needy unemployable blind at this time, and whilst this request is made by reason of a great need and in an effort to remove the danger of grievous disappointment, it is sincerely hoped the implementing of this request will not be unduly burdensome.

AND BE IT THEREFORE RESOLVED that copies of the said resokution be forwarded to the Government of Canada, the Chairman of the said Parliamentary Committee on Industrial and International Relations, and all Dominion Members of Parliament representing constituencies in the City of………… and the County of……….

There was tremendous support from a wide source of interested organizations and friends, newspapers and individuals., Col. Baker wrote to the Prime Minister, and many Members of Parliament whom he knew, advising of the concern he felt for the welfare of blind people in Canada generally, and particularly tho unemployable in all provinces. He stated that in suggesting an amendment to the Old Age Pension Act it at least possessed the merit of making available allowances in seven of the nine provinces, with a fair possibility of early application in one or both of the remaining provinces, and that he had been advised that request for a Federal Blind Persons’ Act this year might encounter the possibility of constitutional complications which might delay or render impossible any action this year.

Meetings of blind persons were hold in all areas across the country.

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Many acknowledgments tb,all communications were received from Members of Parliament, who promised their support, but nevertheless no action was taken by this session and it was not until 1937 that the Old Age Pensions Act was amended, reducing the age at which blind persons were eligible for allowances to 40 years, and the following annual rates of pension and other income established:

Pension,,Other IncomeTotal

Single blind person$240.00$200.00$440.00
Married to sighted spouse
or-single with dependents$240.00$400.00$64o.oo
Blind couple married before
the adoption of Old Age
Pensions Act$240.00each$200.00 each$88o.oo
Blind couple married after
the adoption of the Old Age
Pensions Act$120.00each$200.00 each$64o.oo

In 1945 the Old Age Pension was increased to $300-00 per annum.

In May, 1947, Old Age Pension was increased to $360.00 per annum, and the age at which blind persons became eligible was reduced to 21 years.

In April, 1949, the Old Age Pension was increased to $480.00 per annum and ceilings adjusted as given below:

PensionOther IncomeTotal

Single blind person$48o.oo$360.00$840.00
Single with dependents$480.00$56o.oo$1,040.00
Married, sighted spouse,$48o.oo.$84o.oo$1,320.00
Blind couple$480.00$96o.oo$1,440.00

In 1951 the Blind Persons’ Act was adopted by the Federal Government, under which an agreement could be made on behalf of the Government of Canada with a province to provide for the payment to the province of amounts not exceeding in respect of any recipient 75% of $40.00 monthly, or the allowance paid by the province monthly to the recipient, whichever is the lesser. The term Blindness Allowance was used in this Act in place of the word pension. Residence of ten years in the country was required.

In January, 1953, the Canadian Council of the Blind and the CNIB made two recommendations to the Federal Government;

1.That the basic allowance for the blind be increased to $50-00 per month.

2.That the Means Test attached to the Blind Persons’ Act be eliminated.

In June, 1953, the Superintendents of CNIB in
conference recommended that the Federal Government

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assume full responsibility for the payment of $40.00 a month allowance to the blind,free from the Means Test, and suggested an increase of V10.00 per month in the allowance. This was communicated to the Federal Govern¬ment but no action taken.

In December, 1953 a delegation from the Canadian Council of the Blind and The Canadian National Institute for the Blind met with the Prime Minister and nine members of the Cabinet, requesting elimination of the Means Test under the Blind Persons’ Act, but no action was taken.

In December, 1954, the CNIB and CCB presented a joint submission to the Prime Minister, which had previously been discussed with the Minister of National Health and Welfare and his Deputy Minister, as well as the CNIB Conference of Division Board Chairmen and Superintendents, requesting a reduction in the age at which blind persons became eligible for allowances to 18, the raising of permissible income to the present Income Tax exemption level, and a Means Test-free guiding allowance, payable by the Federal Government.

In 1955, the Blind Persons’ Act of 1951 was amended, reducing the age of eligibility for Blindness Allowance to 18 years of age, and increasing permissible incete.

On July lst, 1957, Blindness Allowance wai increased to $552.00 per annum, and in November of that year to $66o.oo, with new ceilings.

In 1962, Blindness Allowance was increased to $780.00 per annum, And permissible income increased.

On December lst, 1963, Blindness Allowance was Increased to $900.00 per annum, and permissible income increased as follows:

PensionOther IncomeTotal

Single blind person$900.00$600.00$1,500.00
Single with dependents,$900.00$1,080.00$1,980.00
Married, sighted spouse-$900.00$1,680.00$2,580-00
Blind couple$900.00$1,800.00$2,700-00

Persons receive allowances under one Act only, i.e., a blind person cannot receive Blindness Allowance and Old Age Pension or War Veterans’ Allowance, etc. If property is owned, the value is assessed and the amount of annuity that this would yield is considered as other income and the permissible income reduced by that amount.

;Since 1953 many requests have been made to the Government for the elimination of the Means Test but without success, mainly because the Provinces are unwilling to accept such legislation.

For more than ten years the CNIB and CCB have requested by submission of Briefs to the Government and personal interviews with Government ministers and officials,

–4 1,.

a Blindness Allowance paid wholly ty the Feteral Government. free of the “eans Test. This is known as the One Point Programme, but so far this reouest has not been granted.

You will now realize that’.- Governmental reform is not a sport for the short. winded. but it’s lot, of fun. Laura Hughes Lunde.

Mrs. Lunde was a crusader who made good government and civic betterment in Chicago her lifelong concern. She was a sister of Chester Fughes, who was a close friend of Col. BaRer’s in the Sixth Field Company, Canadian Fngineers. He was killed shortly after Col.’Baker was wounded. He is mentioned in ro Compromise . Their father was Dr. James L. Hughes, the well-known Superintendent of Schools in Toronto for almost 40 years, and Sir Sam Hughes was their uncle.

CANADA ASSISTAPCF ACT

The Canada Assistance Act is designed to replace the present Blind Persons’ Act, Disabled Persons’ Act. etc., granting allowances to all persons in need, based on their need but subject to a maximum amount allowed. Pt present this Act is being implemented to some extent in most Provinces i.e. the Province is obtaining financial support of its social allowance programme and probably staff training and other ser¬vices provided for in the Federal legislation. PPA has been replaced in Ontario by the Family Benefits Act and in Saskat¬chewan by the Assistance Plan. Ppplication for 9PA continues to be made as previously in all other parts of Canada. The trend is toward elimination of categorical assistance. Ontario grants a nuidiny allowance of 110.00 per month for those in receipt of EPA.

OLD AGE PENSIONS

In the case of Old Age Persions granted to all at
age 70 without the Means Test but subject to a residence clause often years, the age is being reduced by one year annually at which persons are eligible for pension until all will be eligible at age 65. This reduction commenced in 1966 and by 1970 will apply at 65.

INCONE TAX ACT

On Application of The Canadian National Institute for the Blind the Income Tax Act was amended in 1944, permitting all blind persons on additional exemption of $480.00 per annum in income, over and above the statutory exemption. This amount was increased to “y5OO.OO as from January lst, 1949.

BLIND VOTERS: LEGISLATIOP

In 1924 the Province of Alberta amended the Flection ,Act permitting a blind voter to have his ballot marked by a friend, who must take an oath of secrecy with regard to the name of the candidate for whom vote was cast, and th7t he has acted for this one blind person only. The same legislation applied to the “unicipal Act and City Act.

All provinces now have adopted similar amendments permitting a frient or the Returning Officer to mark the blind person’s ballot, under oath. These Acts have been adopted as follows:

1930 – The Federal Elections Act was amended, permitting a friend or the deputy Returning Officer to mark the ballot of a blind voter, under oath.

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1933,- Manitoba Elections Act was similarly amended,
also the Municipal Act. t

1939 – The British Columbia Elections Act was amended.

1945 – The Quebec Elections Act was similarly amended.

1947 – The Nova Scotia Election Act was similarly amended and in 1958 the Municipal Act.

1951 – The Saskatchewan Election Act was amended, also the Municipal and City Acts.

–The Ontario Election Act was similarly amended, also the Municipal Act.

–Prince Edward Island Election Act was similarly amended.

1952 – The New Brunswick Election Act was similarly amended, also the Acts for Counties, Towns and Villages.

1953 – The Newfoundland Election Act was amended, permitting the Deputy Returning Officer to mark the blind voter’s ballot, under oath, and a further amendment in 1965 permitted a friend to mark the blind voters ballot, under oath.

BLIND WORKMENIS COMPENSATION ACTS

In 1928, when placement of blind persons in general industry in Canada began, some companies were apprehensive about employing blind persons because they felt the accident risk would be greater and the costs for compen¬sation by their company increased., The CNIB made application for a special Blind Workmen’s Compensation Act to remove this deterrent to the placement of blind persons. Such Acts have now been adopted in all provinces, except Manitoba, in the following years:

1931-Ontario,
1943-Quebec
1944-Nova Scotia
1948-Alberta and New Brunswick
1949-Saskatchewan
1950-Newfoundland
1957-British Columbia
1962-Prince Edward Island

Under these Acts, where the full cost of compensation exceeds $50-00, the amount in excess will be paid by the Province concerned, upon receipt of certificate from the Workmen’s Compensation Board; in the case of industries where employers are individually liable, the Province will pay on the same basis to the employer.

In all the above provinces, except Quebec, the definition of blind workmen is: “Central visual acuity of 6160 or 20/200 or less in the better eye”. For Quebec it is: “Person deemed to be blind if his vision

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renders him incapable of doing work for which sight is essential”. In seven provinces CNIB is the only organization authorized to determine thy mature of work feasible and to make placement of blin6 persons in general industry. In Saskatchewan the CNIB and the Canadian Federation of the Blind are so authorized; in Quebec “An Institute for the Blind recognized by the Lieutenant-Governor in Council on recommendation of the Commission”, and CNIB is recognized as such an agency. ln all provinces right¬of access to the place of employment of blind workers is granted.

To dato there have begn very few accidents to blind workmen in general industry and no major accidents or any requiring payment of pension under the Workmen’s Compensation Act. The number of blind workers employed in general industry during the year which ended March 31st, 1965, totalled 491.

BLIND PERSONSI WHITE CANE ACT

As the white cane had been used for some years by blind persons as an indication of their disability, and to avoid abuse of its use by others seeking the help of the general public in traffic,ctc., the CNIB made application to the Provincial Governments for legislation reserving the use of the white cane to blind persons. All provinces have adopted such legislation, with the exception of Quebec, under Blind Persons’ White Cane Acts, which all carry penalty of $25 or more for violation. The Act is in draft form in the Province of Quebec, but has not yet come before the House.

In 1947 the Provinces of Alberta, Manitoba and Ontario adopted Blind Persons’ White Cane Acts, with the definition of a blind person stated by Alberta as: “Person registered with GNIB or in receipt of pension from the Government of Alberta, or certified bl qualified eye specialist as having not more than 6/60 in better eye after correction with glasses”; by Manitoba and Ontario: “Registered with CNIB or in receipt of pension on account of blindness under Old Age and Blind Persons’ Pensions Acts and Old Age Pensions Act (Canada) or having been in receipt of pension on account of blindness under said Acts, is-in receipt of old age pension under the said Acts and still blind within the meaning of said Acts”. All of the above carry a penalty not exceeding $25, plus costs in the case of Alberta, for violation of the Act. In Manitoba and Ontario the Act applies only in respect of persons resident in the respective provinces.

In 1948 British Columbia and New Brunswick adopted similar A3ts. Under the definition of blindness New Brunswick added: “or certified blind by Chief Medical Officer of the Province”; while British Columbia omitted the last phrase above, but added: “or certified by duly qualified medical practitioner or by an optometrist rpristered under Optometr@ Act as having not more than 6;90 in better eye after correction with glasses”. The New Brunswick Act carries a penalty not exceeding $25; British Columbia, the same amount, plus costs. In New

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Brunswick the Act applies only in respect of persons resident in the Provinces

In 1949, Nova Scoti@ a piopted a similar Act, with a similar definition of blindness to New Brunswick, applying only in respect of persons resident in the province, and a penalty not exceeding $50 or prison for maximum of 25 days.

In 1950, Prince Edward Island adopted a similar Act, with definition of blindness the same as in New Brunswick, penalty not exceeding $25, and applicable only in respect of persons resident in the province.

In 1952, Saskatchewan adopted a similar Act, with the same definition of blindness as Manitoba and Ontario, but adding: “or certified by duly qualified medical practitioner or optometrist or optician who holds licence under Optometry Act, as having visual acuity after correction of not more than 6/6o or field of vision in each eye of less than 10 degrees The penalty is not exceeding $25 and the Act applies only in respect of persons resident in the province.

In 1956, Newfoundland adopted a similar Act, with definition of blindness the same as Manitoba and Ontario, a penalty not exceeding $25, and applying only to persons resident in the province.

A summary sheet on each of the above three Acts is attached, for eazy refer4n,e. tAppen6ix I)-CORNEA TRANSPLANT ACT

To provide legal protection for those concerned or involved in the removal of eyes from the body of a deceased person, for transplant to a living person, application was made to all provinces for a special Act. CNIB collaborated with the Canadian Ophthalmological Society and those interested in making this application. All provinces, with the exception of Quebec, since it was felt this matter was already covered under present legislation in that province, have now adopted what is known in most provinces as the Cornea Transplant Act. The Act for Ontario, which was adopted in 1960, is Similar to all the others and reads as follows:

AN ACT TO FACILITATE CORNEA TRANSPLANTS FROM THE BODIES
OF DESEASED PERSONS TO LIVING PERSONS

Her Majesty, by and with the advice and consent of the Legislative Assembly of the Province of Ontario, enacts as follows:

1. In this Act, “person lawfully in possession of
the body” does not include -(A)A coroner in possession of a body for the purpose of investigation; or

(B)An embnlmer or funeral director in possession of a body for the purpose of its burial, cremation

45

or other disposition.,

2Where a person, either loh writing at anytime or orally, in the presence of st,least two witnesses, during his last illness, has requested that his eyes be used after his death for the purpose of improving or restoring the sight of a living person, and he dies in a hospital, the administrative head of the hospital, or the person acting in that capacity, may authorize the removal of the eyes from the body of the deceased person by a duly qualified medical practitioner and their use for that purpose. i
Where a person, eithe@ in writing or at anytime, or orally in the presence of at least two witnesses during his last illness, has requested that his eyes be used after his death for the purpose of improving or restoring the sight of a living person, and he dies in a place other than a hospital, his spouse or, if none, any of his children of full age or, if none, either of his parents or, if none, any of his brothers or sisters or, if none, the person lawfully in possession of the body of the deceased person may authorize the removal of the eyes from the body of the deceased person by a duly qualified medical practitioner and their use for that purpose.

4Where a person has not made a request under section 2 or S and dies either in or outside a hospital, his spouse or, if none, any of his children of,full age or, if none, either of his parents or, if’none, any of his brothers or sisters or, if none, the person lawfully in possession of the body of the deceased person may authorize the removal of the eyes from the body of the deceased person by a duly qualified medical practitioner and their use for the purpose of improving or restoring the sight of a living person.

5An authority given uder section 2, 3 or 4 is sufficient warrant for the removal of the eyes from the body of the deceased person by a duly qualified medical practitioner and their use for the purpose of improving or restoring the sight of a living person.

6(1) An abthori ty shall not be given under section 2 or 3 if the person empowered to give the authority has reason to believe that the person who made the request subsequently withdrew it.

(2)An authority shall not be given under section 4 if the person empowered to give the authority has reason to believe that the deceased person would, if living, have objected thereto.

7An authority shall not be given under section 2, 3 or 4 if the person empowered to give the authority has reason to believe that an inquest may be required to be held on the body of the deceased.

8Nothing in this Act makes unlawful any dealing with the body of a deceased person that would be lawful if this Act had not been passed.

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9 This Pct may be citec as tte Cornea Transplant
Act: ig6o.

In 1?57 New Brunswick adopted the Cornea Transplant Act.

In 1960 Ontario. Newfoundland Prince 70ward Island, Fova Scotia and Alberta adopted this Pct.

In 1961 Tritish Columbia ani Manitoba adopted this Act.

In 1962 Saskatchewan adopted this Act.

HU”AP TISSUF ACT

In 1962 – 63 Ortaric repealec the Cornea Transplant Act and replaced it by the Human Tissue Pct, 1962 – 63, which is an Act to provite for the disposition of bodies and parts thereof of deceased persons for therapeutic and other purposes. The wording is similar to that given above but designates the body or a specified part or parts thereof in place of ‘eyes@. British Columbia an& Plberta have now also adopted this Act in place of the Cornea Transplant Act.

VOCATIONAL REHAPILITATION OF DISAELFD PERSOPS ACT

This is an Act respecting the vocational rehabilitation of disabled persons and the co-ordination of rehabilitation services. It passed the FOuse of Commons on May lst, 1961.

The purpose of this let is to authorize thy making of agreements with provinces to provite for the sharino of costs incurred by the provinces in carryino out programmes of voca¬tional rehabilitation for disabled persons. The Act would also encourage the development And co-ordination of Federal activities in the field of vocational rehabilitation and the carrying out of reaearchin respect of vocational rehabilitation.

7be linister of Labour may, witt the approval of the Governor in Council, enter into an agreement with any province, for a period not exceeding six years, to provide for the payment by Canada of 50% of the cost incurred by the province in providing a comprehensive programme for the vocational rehabilitation of disabled persons, which includes those who are blinf, excepting persons eligible for vocational rehabili¬tation, under the Veterans’ Rehabilitation Act or the “orkmen’s Compensation Act–and provides for the utilization of the services of voluntary organizations that are carrying on activities in the field of vocational rehabilitation of disabled persons, such as the CNIB.

The Provincial Rehabilitation Department assists in traininF-on-the-job for a blins person for an agreed period on recommendation of the CNIT placement officer, This assistance amounts to approximately 50% of the trainees wages and is paid to the employer who is responsible for payment of total wages to the employee. Pore recently the National Employment Service has been superseded by the Canada Kanpower Department which has 5 regions each with a Director. This Department will accept a portion of trainin- costs where training is for a snecific job such as the Dictaphone transcriptionists in CNIF vocational course.

Provision is made under this Act for research in this field to be undertaken by the Government of Canada.

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The Pct provides for a 7ationnl Pdvisor7 Council on the Rehabilitation of Disable0@Per@lons, on which sit a representative of each of the te& provinces a representative from each of the Federal Departrerts of Health and Welfare, Veterans? Affairs Labour and the Unemployment Insurance Commission, ten members chosen on the joint recommendation of the Minister of Labour and the 7inister of National Health and Welfare, of which Mr. A.P. “apill, tne CHIE “anafing Director, is one, havinr replaced Col. Baker, who sat on this committee from the date of its inauguration until his retirement. “embers are appointed for a term not exceeding three years: but are eli7ible for reappointment. 4embers serve without remuneration. but are entitled to reasonable travel and other expenses.

This Act has been adopted by all provinces, an& generally, CCIF is represented on the Provincial Pdvisory Committees.

BRAM St. Mary’s Journal March 1971 By Frank Abbott

Tired of being called “Blindey”‘s and “cross-eyed queer”‘s, Halifax Blind people are organizing to end the social discrimination that they say they are facing. “We’re not naive enough to think we can do it overnight, ” said Blind Rights Action Movement (BRAM) Executive Vice-President Chris Stark recently, “but we’re going to keep on”.

“We hope we’ll succeed,” he added.

Stark, a fourth-year Saint Mary’s History major and former student at the Halifax School for the Blind said the movement started last April when the Federal Task Force on Youth came to Halifax and urged the blind people to organize on their own.

“By June we were organized,” said Stark, “but we only organized to the point where it was necessary.” He said BRAM is made up of “a number of civic-minded individuals from the community.”

“It’s an attempt to reduce, and if possible eliminate, some of the major obstacles which blind people are having and should not have to face in attempting to become an integral part of our society,” he said.

“They’re people, and if the system infringes on their rights, the system has to be changed,” he continued. “One thing we don’t want is the present system of education to continue. The people may be dedicated, but the system itself is inflexible,” he said.

“It doesn’t present any challenge or opportunity, and it doesn’t offer vocational training.”

He said the public attitudes to the blind were the ones most difficult to change.

“You can’t legislate against that,” he said, “but there are things you can legislate against, like housing and employment.

“If you can do something, it doesn’t matter if you’re blind or deaf. What we want is that ability rather than disability be considered,” he said.

BRAM has already begun a campaign to improve conditions at the Halifax School for the Blind, a 100-year-old structure on University Avenue in Halifax. In a letter to the Nova Scotia government, BRAM president Ed Russel said:

“Personally, one of my greatest fears is to wake up some morning and hear that one hundred and sixty-odd blind children were burned to death in a dilapidated old wooden school residence without any fire escapes, and without adequate protection equipment.”

He concluded, “Now, we feel it is time for the government to take some positive action.”

The report, submitted in early January, said a program for blind children should be worked out and conducted with the children’s parents, that the School for the Blind be integrated as fully as possible into the public school system “to create an environment which will bring the blind child and the ‘normal’ citizens of our country was the proposal for the four Atlantic provinces’ governments to “assume full financial and administrative control and responsibility for the Halifax School for the Blind before the commencement of the 1971-1972 school year.”

At the conclusion of a 13-page report to the N.S, government, BRAM repeated the recommendation.

“The Nova Scotia Government should deal with this matter independently of any decision made by the other three provincial governments, should they continue their immoral and medieval attitudes toward the education of the blind,” it said.

So far there has been no word of action taken by the government, except that Deputy Minister of Education, Dr. Harold Nason, has gone to several meetings.

St. Mary’s Journal
March 1971

JOURNAL AWARDS GOLD M’S

– Charter Day
– Golden M

We believe that those truly deserving recognition oare often the ones that never get it, and offer our M’s in the hope that they are not forgotten this year, too, in favour of friends of Student Council members.

Chris Stark: a graduating student, who…is more interested in people than offices, and who has spent this year organizing the Blind Rights Action Movement.

THE BLIND KNIGHT OF NOVA SCOTIA SIR FREDERICK FRASER, 1850-1925 By MARY MCNEIL (1939)

THE BLIND KNIGHT OF NOVA SCOTIA
A Sketch of the Life of the Blind Knight of Nova Scotia
Charles Frederick Fraser was born in the township of Windsor, Nova Scotia, on June 4, 1850. Notwithstanding a great handicap, he was destined to be a leader of men.

Windsor was settled by the loyalists and even in those days stood high in educational advantages and culture. There was founded a college which was called King’s College, after “Old King’s”, now Columbia. The loyalists were anxious to educate their boys at home. Windsor was built at the junction of the two rivers, the Avon and the St. Croix. Great dikes were built to keep back the salt water of the ocean and wheat was raised and exported to Boston. Across the river to the north and south stretched this dike-land famous for its fertility. Behind the town lay the chalk hills, fertile farms, low woodland and mountain slopes.

Windsor is still noted for its phenomenal harbor which at flood tide can accommodate ocean steamers and at low tide contains practically no water. Twice a day the turbulent tide swirls in to the height of forty feet, and on retreating leaves the red mud flats lone and desolate, reminding one of the lines of the Irish poet Tom Moore (who visited Windsor on his tour of America):

“I came to the beach when the morning was shining
A bark o’er the waters rode gloriously on
I came to the beach when the day was declining
The bark was still there but the waters were gone.”

In this picturesque place was spent the boyhood of Charles Frederick Fraser. His father, Dr. Benjamin Fraser was a medical doctor who had graduated at King’s College and also studied at Heidelberg University, and his mother, Elizabeth Allison, daughter of the Hon. Joseph Allison of Halifax, N.S., was a highly cultured lady. Their home was open to very distinguished visitors. High officials in the army and navy graced their board. The Prince of Wales, afterward King Edward VII of England, and the Marquis of Lorn, were among the guests. Doctor Fraser gave much attention to civic affairs but his profession always came first. The poor of the countryside always considered him as their best friend and helper.

Charles Frederick was one of fifteen children. All were brought up under strict English rule. Charles Frederick was a fine specimen of babyhood with the milk-white skin and blue eyes that go with red hair.

The Fraser children lived the schoolroom life of story-books. For them it was a red-letter day when their father was able to be with them for their mid-day meal. His after-dinner habit was to slip back to the schoolroom with tidbits from the dining room. He dearly loved his children, but Freddy or Sheddy, as he called him, seemed to be his favorite, and he always came in for the lion’s share.

Charles Frederick seems to have commenced his education early. At the age of four he would go to school with his older brothers and sisters. He was soon able to read, as he was very bright, and his first purchase was a copy of the New Testament, which he bought with his own pocket-money for four pence. The boy was about seven years of age when he injured one of his eyes. He was whittling a stick with his new penknife when a chip of the blade grazed his eye. At once the eye became inflamed and was brought to the attention of his father. Simple remedies were used, but with poor results.

His father took the boy to Boston to consult Doctor Williams, a noted specialist. This eminent man considered the boy too young for an operation; his father thought the removal of the infected eye might save the sight of the other. However, father and son returned home without anything further being done and the boy continued to go to school. His teacher was Doctor Curran. Notwithstanding his failing sight the young Charles Frederick was making great progress in his studies, becoming proficient in Caesar and Virgil.

Then followed a period which Doctor Fraser termed as one long twilight, when the devoted father was very tender to his afflicted boy. Wherever one saw the Doctor on his rounds over hill and dale, Freddy was by his side, his faithful companion.

Freddy’s love and reverence for his father was very beautiful. The dear old Doctor was loving and kind to a degree, always, living the strenuous life of a country doctor, and with many social engagements to claim his time; yet he found time to be ever a loving and sympathetic father to his large family of boys and girls. The boy Freddy realized all this and responded to his father’s tenderness with a great devotion.

During these twilight years Freddy had a friend tried and true, his faithful dog, Di (Diogenes). He kept close by his master’s side and enabled him to play games, especially baseball, as he would follow the dog to find the ball when his vision was too impaired to see in which direction it went.

Di was poisoned and the story of how the doctor father worked over the dog to save him for the boy’s sake is one of the most pathetic incidents in his early life.

Freddy’s poor eyesight all through his childhood days saved him from many a punishment he richly deserved. His father never allowed any punishment that would make him cry, for fear of further injury to his already injured eyes.

In Dr. Curran’s school this gave him a great advantage, as the rod was used very freely; the motto, “Spare the rod, spoil the child,” was literally upheld. If Freddy’s lessons were unprepared, he would fill his pockets with plums for Doctor Curran, and he related in after years, that it always worked well. He learned at an early age the psychology of life.

At home, instead of whipping which would make him cry, his punishment was to be locked in the storeroom. He was equal to that occasion, also, as he would fill his pockets with nuts, raisins and figs. This was not so good, as his brothers would be waiting for him in the garden. When his term of punishment was over and he emerged, they would pounce on him and shake out his pockets and make him share up.

At thirteen years of age his father took him again to Doctor Williams. This time he operated for and artificial pupil but without success. The other eye became radically worse.

One day somewhat later, to prove to himself his fears of the tragedy, Doctor Fraser dropped a quarter on the floor and told Freddy to pick it up. The boy groped in vain with his head upturned. The father then realized that his boy would soon be blind.

When it seemed necessary, Doctor Fraser made arrangements to send Freddy to Boston, to the Perkins Institute for the Blind under the tuition of Doctor Samuel Howe (whose wife was Julia Ward Howe), and Sir Francis Campbell of Royal Normal College, Norwood, England. Here, under such great educators, Freddy learned the Psychology of the Blind. Indeed, many a difficult problem he met and overcame. Intuitively, he imbibed self-reliance, patience, tenacity of purpose to overcome his disability, and not permit it to handicap his life work.

When he entered the Institute Fred had sight enough to light his way in traveling around the city – but little by little, it failed him and left him in total darkness.

Fred was a great favorite at school. Large of frame, he was fearless, courageous, honest, and kind. He was quite an athlete and entered with great zest into all healthy sport. He had a vigorous constitution and was a fine, healthy, rollicksome youth. It is related of him that he was a grand one to entertain the boys, giving them weird and graphic accounts of the pyramids of Egypt and other subjects.

At the same time, this independent youth would deeply resent any interference with what he considered his rights. Without the slightest scruple he would break the rules when he thought they did injustice to his own inherent rights. For instance, smoking was forbidden, but Fraser would not be cheated out of one of his few material comforts; so, smoke he did, even when he lost sleep in so doing. At night, he would steal down to the boiler-room, and there enjoy his pipe!

He was often sleepy during class, due, no doubt, to his being in the boiler-room at night, smoking, instead of in bed, sleeping. “I recall,” writes one of his fellow students, “one morning when we had a class before breakfast (by lamplight in winter) the teacher found Fred asleep, roused him, and ordered him to stand up with his back to the wall. This he did but the teacher found he had again relapsed into slumber, and fearing he might topple over, she ordered him to sit down. This was greatly to the amusement of the class.”

Once, Fred undertook to sit up with his roommate, who was ill with scarlet fever (not much quarantine in those days). To keep awake, Fred practiced writing Braille, which prevented his sick companion from sleeping. When he learned of this the next morning he expressed regret and remarked, “Why did you not tell me? I would have stopped—”

On the whole, however, no doubt because of an active mind, the authorities found Fred troublesome. He formed a club among the older boys. This did not find favor with the authorities, and in consequence he was asked to leave school abruptly in the middle of the term. However, he returned the following year, and in due time, graduated.

Fred was twenty-two years of age when he graduated from Perkins Institute. He had decided on a business career – financial matters had for him a great charm. He was a born optimist and only considered the lack of sight an obstacle to be overcome. He had great talent for mathematics, and was a wizard at arithmetic. As for capital, that did not worry him. His father was only too willing to help his son financially.

It was then that he was offered the position in a different type of work, that of principal of a school for the blind at Halifax. It was at that time a struggling institution.

Two years passed. Still he hesitated, meanwhile pursuing his studies. Doubtless the call to opportunity and sacrifice had come to him as it knocks at every man’s door. Again he was urged by letter to accept the position. He answered in writing, accepting the position of superintendent and refused any salary until such time as they would be financially able to give him a living wage. This generous offer was accepted and he became superintendent in 1873.

The Asylum, as it was called, consisted of one wooden building, two teachers and six pupils. One short year proved that Frederick Fraser was the man of the hour. For fifty years afterwards he bravely toiled and worked incessantly to make it one of the best schools for the blind in America. The work was colossal but the man himself was great, and equal to the task. He was confronted with a great problem – free education for the blind – and his first and last thought was how to put is over. Unceasingly he hammered at the doors of the Legislature until he obtained a grant of twelve hundred dollars a year.

The situation of the blind people at this time was deplorable. some, the more fortunate, were living with relatives. Others, God’s most pitiful children, were begging on the streets or living hopelessly in poor-houses.

Frederick Fraser wanted to help them all to be free by training them to earn their own livelihood. As a beginning, he started a campaign to visit every one of the fourteen counties in Nova Scotia. Nothing daunted, he procured a horse and wagon and started out on his long tour of eleven hundred miles. He took with him several teachers and the orchestra of the school and gave concerts. For forty-five consecutive nights he addressed audiences on the claim of the blind. On his return to Halifax, he went again to the Legislature, armed with all the resolutions. The glorious result of the campaign was an Act of Parliament giving Free Education for the Blind of Nova Scotia – 1882! In this he led America. Think of the bad roads of those days, the poor accommodations, the uncertain weather, the terrible distance, and he totally blind! Such valor in so unselfish a cause could not fail! The beginning was made and Frederick Fraser had gained the support necessary for his work.

When Sir Frederick came to the school there was one piano which was used for indifferent music lessons. He left an equipped and organized musical department which ranks well with many of the conservatories of the country.

Nor was Sir Frederick’s work confined to the school. A free library for the blind was now an urgent need, not only for the pupils in the classrooms but for the ever increasing number of graduates. The money was raised and the library established.

The next obstacle was the cost of postage which made it practically impossible for sightless readers to take advantage of the books now available. Sir Frederick went straight to the heart of the situation and urged that raised print books should be transmitted free through the mails. It was through his efforts and influence that the Canadian postal authorities in 1898 adopted the principle that embossed books for the blind should be transmitted free of postage.

In the superintendent’s report, 1882, we read: “To the President and Board of Managers: Gentlemen: The year now drawing to a close is one that will long be remembered as being that in which the right of the blind to free education was publicly recognized and liberally provided for by the legislature of the County. For this just recognition and ample provision we, the friends of the blind, feel deeply grateful not only to the Legislature (which by the enactment of the Law making education free to this class have given practical expression to the views and opinions held by all truly liberal minded men) but also to our Heavenly Father, the Author and Giver of all good things, Who has in special manner blessed the efforts made to provide the welfare of the blind in this Province, and has in this particular instance crowned their efforts with complete success.”

Further on in the same report we find: “In the month of March 1882 the government introduced a bill entitled “An Act in Relation to the Education of the Blind.” This act provides that all persons who are blind between the ages of ten and twenty-one years residing in Nova Scotia are admitted free of all expenses saving those of clothing and travelling to and from their homes.”

No doubt he was delighted that his greatest problem “Free Education for the Blind” had been solved, but in concluding his report he touches on another campaign when he says: “The Institution which has for the past ten years been known as Halifax Asylum for the Blind will during the coming session of Legislature have the name under which it was incorporated changed for one that will be more in keeping with its educational character. The reasons for such a change are obvious and need not here be recapitulated at any great length. Suffice it to say that the opprobrious name Asylum for the Blind, in dictating as it does that it is an establishment designed for aged and decrepit persons is evidently a misnomer and should therefore be abolished and a new and more fitting name substituted for it, such for example as “The School for the Blind.”

In 1890 Frederick Fraser married a charming young lady, Miss Ellen J. Hunter of St. John, New Brunswick, who wrote several books for children. For several years she was an invalid and was given every comfort until her death.

In 1892 the School for the Blind had been operated under Charles Frederick Fraser’s care for nearly twenty years and the results were most favorable. Nearly eight per cent of the graduates were engaged in teaching music; twelve per cent conducting or taking part in concert companies; eight per cent in piano tuning; eight per cent in manufacturing; twelve per cent working at trades or giving instruction; two per cent as agents; two per cent in farm work; two per cent in literary or college work; twenty-two per cent assisting at home. Three had taken advantage of courses of music in Germany and one had taken a B.A. course at Acadia College.

In 1902, ten years later, we read in the superintendent’s report that: thirty-nine per cent were teaching music, piano, organ, or violin; eleven per cent teaching piano; fifteen per cent manufacturing willow baskets, bench and chair seats; fifteen per cent engaged in shopkeeping, or as traders, agents, lecturers, caterers, and manufacturers; twenty per cent at home partially self-supporting.

It is worthy of note that twenty per cent of our graduates are married and settled in homes of their own. Of these sixteen per cent are men and four per cent women. The marriages have in all cases been with people of sight. So many and so varied have been the occupations followed by individual blind persons that it would seem almost as if blindness was in no sense a bar to success in every calling.

In 1903 the school was a veritable hive of industry, with its seventy-one boys and forty-seven girls. The primary work included kindergarten training. Then followed four years grammar school, six years high school and two years for ungraded pupils who could not follow to advantage the course of study.

Instead of one piano there were thirty available for the pupils. The building designed for thirty students was added to and a new building, designed throughout by the blind superintendent, was erected. A model of this building in clay stands on a table in the reception hall.

The home life of the institution was made as much as possible that of a genial and cheerful family. The atmosphere of the place was one of cheerfulness and love.

Every day found the devoted superintendent at his post, teaching. His salary was two hundred dollars per year for many years – a mere pittance. One marvels to learn that he taught English, mathematics, history, geography, music and the art, so well adapted to the blind, of chair-caning. In addition to all this, he was also editing a magazine – “The Critic”.

In his later years his daily routine was most interesting. He was accustomed to rise at seven-fifteen, attend the school gathering, called Prayers, and later, roll-call at eight-o’clock. Breakfast was at eight-fifteen and after the morning paper was read to him, he made it a practice to begin the day in his office by nine o’clock p.m. and after a short nap, he returned to the office again until five-fifteen. From that time, until six o’clock he always walked. If the weather were stormy he would walk in the long corridors of the building, otherwise, in the open air, through the park. It is not surprising, considering this man, that he knew every walk in the park, and could take strangers around without the least hesitation. He could accomplish more in every respect, without sight, than many of our fellow-beings can attain with all their faculties.

The evening meal was taken at six, after which the evening paper was read. Other reading followed, or friends came in. So the time passed and much more was accomplished because of this systematic routine. Most of the truly great people, who have accomplished wonderful things in life, have followed this practice. The life of such men must be methodical to be efficient.

It was in 1910 that Frederick Fraser married Miss Jane E.R. Stevens, the daughter of William Stevens, of Burn Brad, Brooklyn, Nova Scotia. Jane Stevens was a lady of great charm, genial personality and affectionate disposition. She took a keen interest in the work of the blind and was a wonderful help-mate in every way to Doctor Fraser. In private life, it may be imagined, the doctor was the most interesting of men. He never impressed people that he was blind. Instead he was a powerful, vital man, always.

In 1911 a great joy came to his life with the birth of his son, Charles Frederick Jr. On this occasion, only, did the father make mention of his infirmity, when he said, “I regret I shall never see the little chap.”

In regard to his beloved life-work, nothing was too good for the school and there were no limits to the superintendent’s enterprise in securing the best. Whenever he wanted anything for the school he asked for it. In the matter of the necessary playground equipment, he went to the Local Council of Women. The result as always was successful. From the proceeds of a fair, donations of kind friends, and several entertainments, a steel playground outfit was purchased. Also a playroom was fitted up for the younger pupils.

A circulating library was started containing books with embossed lettering making it possible for the blind to read. From a few volumes it increased to the number of eleven hundred and twenty-one. Public-spirited men and women made this possible.

Next an up-to-date pipe organ was thought of. A fund was started to realize five thousand dollars. In a short time four thousand was subscribed. When the organ was installed a debt of one thousand dollars remained. The superintendent remarked, “I trust the good friends of the school will speedily help us to remove the debt.”

And thus, the years sped on for Frederick Fraser. To gather from a local paper, this remarkable man “was never in a hurry, never stopping, never complaining, always at it, working inch by inch to his ideal, and all around was ignorance and indifference in the matter of educating the blind.”

Then came the Great War. In December 1917 Halifax, Nova Scotia was the site of one of the greatest disasters of the War period. It was a clear, crisp winter morning. The school children were hurrying off to school, business men were getting to their different occupations. All was well until a report was circulated that two ships heavily loaded with explosives were in the harbor and had collided. One was on fire. People stopped for a moment to see the flames reaching the sky. When lo, came a tremendous explosion. It is reported that the sea left the harbor-bottom and soared to the height of forty feet, spreading a short but destructive distance over the land, drenching and drowning all within its wake. The roar of explosives, and rushing water and terrific commotion caused everyone in the houses to rush to the windows. In another second, another crash and every pane of glass in the entire city was in splinters. In the extreme north end of the city, every house within the wake of the blast was demolished and many of them took fire. Over eighteen thousand were homeless. Falling glass deprived hundreds of their eyesight; two hundred remained blind. Many eyes were removed. One nurse remarked, “I carried their eyes away in buckets!”

Public buildings were turned into temporary hospitals; every citizen uninjured turned into a nurse. The horrors of that day will never be fully known; it is written in the Eternal Book of Life and Death and Tragedy.

The School for the Blind became a veritable asylum, treating tenderly the injured, the doctors removing many eyes, leaving the sightless to the tender mercies of Sir Frederick.

As for Sir Frederick Fraser – what a situation to find oneself in after forty-four years of uphill work. His temple shattered from its foundation, and every perishable thing lying around in ruins – pianos, school furniture, dishes, glasses, pictures – all the visible work of a lifetime destroyed in about six seconds of time. Every window pane was shattered and every window frame crushed in, every door unhinged and lying low, every ceiling down. Then the dead and dying were carried in and the dreadful storm came on. The snow piled high, covering the burning ruins in the city and the dead and living bodies buried beneath. That was a fearful day for Halifax.

The women worked like men, driving ambulances and automobiles to the hospitals which were soon filled to their capacity. Then churches and schools were turned into hospitals, cots were put up everywhere. The Red Cross car from Boston was quick to respond to the “S.O.S.” but the snow-storm delayed the train. In the houses the uninjured were busy getting tarpaper, canvasses, anything tacked up to their windows to keep out the driving storm.

In God’s merciful providence, not one of Sir Frederick’s household was injured. In his next report we find no word of complaint or discouragement. The only encouraging message he could give the president of the board was that, “the buildings withstood the terrible shock without great structural damage, saving to window glass, plastered ceilings, and walls, doors, window frames, and much of the internal woodwork.” It was a sad sight after forty-four years of uphill work.

Owing to the urgent demand for hospital accommodations in the city on the day of the explosion, temporary hospital wards for injured children and adults were opened in the school building. Upwards of fifty patients were tenderly cared for, for more than a week by the members of the staff, with the aid of volunteer nurses. Miss Lockwood, the trained nurse of the school, was in special charge.

The parents outside the city, anxious for the safety of their children, telegraphed to have them sent home. A few of these re-entered in September but a number failed to return. Miss Jean Allison, for many years teacher of vocal music, was seriously injured at her home, and though she made a brave fight for life, she died two months later.

The buildings of the School for the Blind were damaged to the extent of $25,000.00 and it took two years to have repairs completed. In his report for that year he writes: “Owing to the poor attendance of pupils due to the explosion and the high cost of maintenance the school was obliged to secure a heavy overdraft at the bank.”

“This has been partially offset during the present year by special grants of $25,000.00 from the Province of Nova Scotia and $1,500.00 from the Dominion of Newfoundland with an increase in the annual grant per pupil from $300.00 to $400.00. Halifax Relief Commission paid cost of repairs to the extent of $25,000.00.”

The editor of Vancouver Daily writes: “I make the confident prediction that if Sir Charles Frederick Fraser is entrusted with half a million dollars to repair as far as possible the damage of blindness caused by the Halifax explosion he will give better results than the custodian of any other half million that may be appropriated to repair other losses.” Although part of the devastated area has been rebuilt, Halifax still bears the sears of that terrible day. Honorable sears, proudly worn, as befits a Molding Place of Empire.

The only little boy in the school who could see was Frederick Jr. In the midst of the general confusion the fond father found time to take the boy on his knee and console the little fellow and no doubt at the same time offer thanks to his Heavenly Father that they had escaped the terrible holocaust.

In far-off Belgium another great man stood by the ruins of his life-work, his Cathedral. That man was Cardinal Mercier. His slogan was identical with that of Sir Frederick – “Let us Rebuild.”

To show the great development of the school under Dr. Fraser we read in his report for 1916:

“In previous reports I have advocated the establishment of scholarships in connection with the School for the Blind. Many of our pupils possess a distinctive literary or musical ability and several of these might after graduation prosecute their studies to advantage either by taking a college course of by supplementing their musical training in a recognized conservatory of music. Five of our former pupils have taken full college courses.

“Four of these graduated from Dalhousie University, Halifax, and one from Acadia University, Wolfville. One of these, Mr. Lem Duffy, is now pastor in charge of the Baptist Church of Great Falls, N.B.. Another, Mr. Grover Lomjohn, is an ordained Presbyterian minister and is doing good work in Shediac, N.B.. Still another, Mr. Charles McInnes, who graduated with distinction from Dalhousie University with a view of fitting himself for a professorship of history.

“One of our graduates, Dr. J.A. McDonald of Halifax, took a full course in Massachusetts College of Osteopathy, Cambridge, Mass., where he graduated with high distinction. Subsequently Dr. McDonald successfully passed the Massachusetts medical examinations.

“Several of our graduates have taken vocal courses in New England Conservatory of Music. Two have studied in Leipsiec, Germany, and one, Mr. Hollis Lindsay, graduated with honors from Chicago Conservatory of Music. We should have an income of from $500.00 to $1,000.00 per annum from which scholarships might be awarded to valued pupils and special grants made to deserving graduates.”

It is needless to add that each pupil who succeeded was an added joy to the man who had given his life to the betterment of the blind.

Many men of great achievement are honored by their fellow-men only after their mortal course has run, and the memory of their life-work is recorded on brass tablet or marble tomb, but to Sir Frederick was give the rare privilege to be honored and appreciated while he was still at the helm of his great ship.

For nearly fifty years he had been at his post, leading and directing a nation in the education of the blind – he, himself, totally deprived of sight. In March 1913 he was called before the Legislative Council of Nova Scotia, and publicly thanked for his great work. (This honor had not been accorded to anyone for over eighty years.)

Then in June 1915 he was recommended by his life-long friend, Sir Robert Borden, to the King of England for the honor of Knighthood which he received in token of the value of his life-work. His native College, King’s, and Dalhousie University, had also conferred their honors upon him. Likewise, at home, he had been called before the Bar of the House of Assembly and publicly thanked for his services to the blind.

Then came his Golden Jubilee. Fifty years of service, half a century of consecrated effort – a glorious record! This was a red-letter day at the school, but there was a deep note of sadness to the festivities, for they marked, as well, the eve of his retirement.

A SONNET TO SIR FREDERICK FRASER

by W.T. Townsend

“For fifty years a servant of thy Kind
With brain and intellect of rarest mold
Controlled by fate and not by Fate controlled
Tho blind an yet a leader of the blind.
My country honors thee, a master mind
An honor such as few do hold
Our public thanks; but more a thousand fold
The thanks of those who light in darkness found
Not thus content to ever stand and wait
But forced proud fortune to their hand to bring
The golden key and thus unlock the gate of usefulness
For those less resolute who but for thee
Might wait for light until Eternity.”

In the fifty-first annual report we find an attendance of one hundred and seventy-three pupils receiving instruction during the past year. The president referred briefly to the success of the school during the past fifty years, stating that seven hundred and seventy-seven pupils had entered the school and many of these as graduates had become self-supporting men and women.

For several years after the explosion the attendance of children was much below the average of previous years. The financial loss sustained by the school during the years 1917-1920 when it is stated that the annual per capita grants are received only for the pupils actually in attendance while the cost of maintenance including salaries of staff, fuel, repairs, etc., remain about the same as in previous years. “This year we had one hundred and forty-seven pupils and as we have only accommodations for one hundred and fifty it will be seen that we are now approaching our capacity.”

His long and strenuous life in the devoted service of others was beginning to tell upon his strong constitution. The first winter he was ordered south by his physician. The balmy air of Palm Beach seemed to rejuvenate him. As spring came the hear grew exhausting, and he came north as far as Washington, where he remained until May, or until the weather had sufficiently moderated up north. During the summer he enjoyed his comfortable home in Halifax, surrounded by his family, his horses, his dogs and his flowers and friends.

When winter came around again, a warmer climate was suggested, this time, Bermuda. However, the boat trip was not very pleasant, as the weather was stormy. When Sir Frederick landed at the coral isle he tried in vain to regain his strength. His interest in places and things was beginning to wane. He returned home where after several months of constant care, under a skilled physician and kind nurse, with Lady Fraser and his son, Fred Jr. at his bedside, he finally succumbed on July 15, 1925, in his seventy-fifth year.

Sir Frederick’s funeral procession from his residence to Camp Hill Cemetery was rather exceptional. As a tribute to his Scottish ancestry, two pipers walked beside the hearse and the pibroch’s sorrowful note was heard. A carriage, laden with the most beautiful collection of floral tributes which has marked any funeral in Halifax in years, followed the hearse.

In Fraser Hall, the auditorium of the School for the Blind, can be seen a bronze tablet, installed, in appreciation of his life-work, one year after his retirement and one year before his death.

The qualities of humility and greatness of this kindly man are portrayed in the following prayer, often recited by Sir Frederick, which characterizes his noble purpose in life.

“HIS PRAYER”

Oh God help me to be just.
Lift me up out of the Ocean of Superstition and Imaginations and grant me the “Iron Sight” to see and realize from the surrounding existence Thy Oneness and Thy Worth.

Persons with Disabilities and the Travel and tourism Business

People with disabilities are visiting more places around the world more often than ever before. Travelling in a wheelchair through the rain forest of Costa Rica on an accessible track, using a walker in the Andes mountains, taking guide dogs on a Caribbean cruise or taking a tour of Boston on a bus equipped with an infra red loop system to help hard of hearing persons understand the guides descriptions, renting an accessible vehicle in Sydney or taking an accessible taxi in London are more and more common every day happenings.

“Travellers with disabilities are looking for the same type of products other travellers are looking for. Proactively encouraging persons with
disabilities to enjoy tourist and transportation features provides tourist destinations with a unique opportunity to promote new business and greater access at the same time. It is a win-win situation.

“Going out, touring and traveling like everybody else is an essential
pleasure of life regardless of age or disability,” emphatically states
André Leclerc, Director General of Kéroul.. Kéroul is a Canadian organization based in Québec. Its mission has been to join the tourist industry in making tourism accessible to persons with restricted physical ability.

In North America, Australia and Europe, persons with a disability
represent about 15% of the population. This market is growing rapidly.

More and more Canadians are travelling. A greater number of these travellers are senior citizens. As the population ages, the incidence of disability increases. Think back twenty years; it was rare to see a wheelchair at an airport for use by travellers. Now airlines routinely provide fleets of wheelchairs to aid passengers travel to and from aircraft within terminals.

Access Canada: Accommodating Seniors and Persons with Disabilities
published by the Alberta Hotel Association observes that “60% of that “60% of the disability market is over the age of 55,” and ” this market also has a higher disposable income than the other segments of the population.” . Many seniors will have their mobility decrease with age and while not always essential, mobility aids and special attention are certainly appreciated. There are almost 4 million persons over the age of 65 in Canada. That number will double in the next generation and make up almost a quarter of Canada’s total population

Demands for accessible services are increasing as more and more visitors with disabilities seek user-friendly tourism opportunities.
Earlene Causey, former President of the American Society of Travel
Agencies, is quoted in the report, The Travel Agency Beyond the Millennium as saying, “Our efforts recognize that travellers with disabilities are not a niche market like religious tours or adventure travel. The traveller
with a disability simply wants to enjoy the same access as anyone else.”

Ensuring that potential customers know of services designed to make
tourists with disabilities feel welcome will encourage people who otherwise would not visit , to book a trip. When tour operators and resort managers ensure the availability of needed services at the right time in the vacation via proper information and booking arrangements, they have created satisfied customers who will come back again. Also, these satisfied customers will become enthusiastic sales persons promoting your destination to others. Developing repeat business from satisfied visitors with disabilities is a practical way of generating future tourism dollars.

Availability of accessibility features and services is a key factor determining travel patterns and spending practices. Travel arrangements for several dozen persons travelling as a group were made with one tour operator with a better record of accessible services than their competitors because one member of the group was a person with a disability.

The economic impact of travellers with disabilities goes far beyond the individual and includes the choice made by travelling companions, be they family members, colleagues or fellow tour group members or tour operators
seeking to serve all. People with disabilities strive for a satisfying travel experience just like all customers. Arranging for the delivery of that product will earn return business. Looking beyond the disability to the travel needs focuses attention on the
service. Knowing what services or benefits will appeal to travellers with disabilities can be the added incentive to clinch the deal. More and more companies offer facilities and services which will appeal to customers with disabilities. Knowing which hotels have wheelchair-accessible rooms, what airlines provide assistance from the check-in counter to the aircraft,
which tour operator has accessible buses and vans that can carry
passengers who use wheelchairs, which museums have information for visitors who are blind, which guided tours can provide information to deaf and hard of hearing participants, or which cruse lines accept service animals are valuable marketing tools.

Providing appropriate travel-related services to this segment of the market is a professional responsibility.

Some tips when interacting with visitors who have a disability are:

– Speak directly to the person.

– Ask IF and HOW you can best help.

– Take the time to understand.

– Avoid touching the person or person’s wheelchair unnecessarily.

Do not distract service animals

– Provide information about accessible facilities, tours, etc.

– Do not pretend that you have understood when you have not.

– Do not hesitate to ask the person to repeat themselves.

– Whenever possible ask questions that can be answered by a simple “Yes”
or “No.”

– Be patient.

Many customers have disabilities which are not visible. Thinking about access when serving all visitors will enhance customer satisfaction.

Take stock of your clientele. Service delivery to clients with unique needs is an important aspect of your customers’ expectations. Recently, executives of a large corporation were embarrassed when their corporate conference
organizers did not know how to make the arrangements for an important
client who traveled with a service animal! Not having expertise in this aspect of the tourism industry can cost your business and negatively affect the bottom line.

Above all, relax, be happy and enjoy meeting a new friend. People with disabilities want to have a good time too. You can make the difference.

Exchanging experiences and understanding each other are the two positive sides of the tourist
experience for the host and the visitor with a disability. Awareness and understanding are the keys to building successful tourist
relationships between people with and without disabilities .

From Warehouse to Greenhouse to Open House

From Warehouse to Greenhouse to Open House
An Address to the Air and Space Law Section of the Canadian Bar Association
By Chris Stark August 1991

Table of Contents
p. 1 Introduction
p. 2 The Warehouse
p. 3 The Greenhouse
p. 6 The Open House
Appendices
p. 9 Appendix A – Significant Canadian Cases Affecting Persons with Disabilities

Introduction

We are eagerly awaiting the great life. We are anxious for change.

Yes, Canada is a great place to live. We are wheezing, tapping and rolling our way into our rightful place of dignity and independence within the Canadian fabric. Our resolve is fortified by what we have endured and survived in the past.

The continuum of our evolution can be divided into three areas, or three time periods, which are demarcated by distinct social attitudes:

– the era when persons with disabilities were pitied and looked after (the “warehouse”);
– the current era, in which persons with disabilities are discovering our own identity and society is discovering our abilities as we grow together (the “greenhouse”); and
– the approaching era of empowerment and autonomy (the “open house”).

Let’s consider these three areas and conclude with a brief overview of how the National Transportation Agency is contributing to the concept of accessible transportation for persons with disabilities. My co-presenter, Madam Forget, Member the National Transportation Agency, will elaborate on the role of the Agency.

“The Warehouse”

Not so long ago, the majority of people with disabilities – those of us who survived – lived in residential institutions, where we were cared for as patients. This institutional medical model was based on the belief that we were incapacitated. Individuals with individual disabilities were treated as a homogeneous group: services were designed to meet group, rather than individual, needs. One result of this institutional treatment was that the non-disabled community remained largely unaware of people with disabilities.

This so-called “warehouse” period is within the living memory of many. I, for example, at the age of five, left home of ten months of the year to attend a residential school for the blind, the proud traditions of which were rooted in the original asylums for the blind. My parents had no alternative but to send me there if I was to have an education.

Among my vivid recollections of this experience are images of very small children pressing their faces against the bars of a fence, looking longingly out at the sighted world. The notion of “us” and “them” had very real and specific meaning for us. For ten years, the “norm” in my world was that blind people were the overwhelming majority.

Our future prospects were few and defined by the expectations of others. If we were fortunate, we were told, we might work in a sheltered workshop or operate a canteen.

Still, blind people were the lucky ones. The life expectancy of many people with severe disabilities could be measured in months. Most children with disabilities did not go to school. Most adults with disabilities lived in medical institutions, a tradition that had gone on for decades. Those who lived in the mainstream of society, often struggling alone with the after-effects of institutionalization, reinforced the existing myths and stereotypes about persons with disabilities.

Initiated by the catalyst of the Vietnam War and its aftermath, the era of the “greenhouse” is now thriving. The traumatized and newly-disabled soldiers returning from Vietnam provided the models from which society as a whole benefited. There veterans refused to accept or tolerate the traditional way in which society related to its members with disabilities.

Canada’s proximity to the United States means that we, too, are benefiting from this accelerated progress. The advancement of rehabilitative medicine and the provision of government social services have contributed to a vast improvement in the quality of life for persons with disabilities.

While the remainder of the this presentation will deal with transportation services for persons with disabilities today, in the era of the “greenhouse”, we should not lose sight of the fact that for many persons with disabilities throughout the world, the era of the “warehouse” is still a reality of daily life.

“The Greenhouse”

Since the beginning of the “Decade of the Disabled” in 1981, the Parliament of Canada has planted numerous seeds of change in the “greenhouse” by issuing no fewer than eleven reports focusing attention on the aspirations of persons with disabilities. These reports have covered the spectrum of human interest from recreation and education to employment and transportation.

A number of Acts of Parliament have firmly rooted this growing understanding in the fertile soil of Canadian society today. The provisions of the Canadian Human Rights Act, The Charter of Rights and Freedoms, and the National Transportation Act, 1987, contain guarantees of protection and the promotion of freedoms. These are founded in the evolutionized status of persons with disabilities, which has fostered our strong desire for the blooming of independence and integration.

Two important corollaries of these principles are the right to self-determination and the dignity of risk. We must be the ones to direct services and resources for ourselves. We must be the ones to determine how the available alternatives can be used to our best advantage.

The movement towards integration and demedicalization implies personal choice, user control over ongoing support services, and equal access to the rights and responsibilities accorded to all Canadians. This concept is supported by Section 15 of the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms.

In 1986, Statistics Canada estimated that more than 3.3 million Canadians (13.2% of the population) reported a disability. For these people, accessible transportation is a necessity and a right. With accessible transportation, people can become integrated into the community. It becomes possible to travel to and from school, a place of employment, or medical and recreational facilities. Through accessible transportation, persons with disabilities can participate more effectively and fully in community life.

Although the numbers illustrate just how much of a problem we have yet to overcome, they also show how much progress we have made. According to Statistics Canada, in 1986, 58% of persons with disabilities who reported needing urban transportation had access to it.

Most specialized transportation services which operate parallel to public transportation systems function on the charitable model. In 1986, 247,275 Canadians with disabilities were reported to be living in institutions, including 2,400 children under the age of 15.

The trend in education is toward placement decisions based on individual need resulting in greater mainstreaming at all levels. For example, in 1986, 4.3% of persons with disabilities received a university education, as compared to 10.3% of the general public.

In the same period, it was estimated that 25.4% of Canadian families with a member who had a disability were below the officially-determined “low income” or “poverty” level, as compared to 15.5% of Canadian families without a member with a disability. In 1985, 57.3% of working age persons with disabilities had total annual incomes of less than $10,000.

Persons with disabilities of working age have higher rates of unemployment than the general workforce: the unemployment rate in 1986 for persons with disabilities was 15.2%, as compared with 10.7% unemployment in the general population. This does not take into account a large percentage of persons with disabilities who have given up searching for work altogether.

Parenthetically, it is interesting to note that, according to the Department of the Secretary of State’s analysis of Statistics Canada’s 1986 Health and Activity Limitation Survey, the degree of poverty of persons with disabilities is correlational to the severity of their disabilities. Surprisingly, the largest percentage of persons with disabilities who are defined as poor are persons who are blind or visually impaired, follow closely by persons with either cognitive or mobility disabilities.

The work of the National Transportation Agency must be viewed in the context of today’s reality. Ours is a situation in which transportation is a vital foundation to the advancement of persons with disabilities. Once a person has chosen to exercise the dignity of risk and walk across the threshold into the community, that choice must be respected, encouraged, and, most importantly, accommodated.

Not all persons with disabilities are at the same level of social advancement or have the same abilities. Appropriate transportation services for travellers with disabilities are those which incorporate the principle of choice base on individual need rather than choice based on membership in a particular disability group. For example, not all persons who are blind or visually impaired have the same needs. We have all developed our individual methods of coping with the limitations of our disabilities.

Persons with disabilities, like all persons, are unique individuals with unique accomplishments. With each achievement, we become less willing to accept the indignities thrust upon us by systems and services which respond to us as “the blind” or “the handicapped” or “the disabled.”

Before concluding with an overview of how the National Transportation Agency is contributing to the “Open House” of the future, let’s look at some of these travel difficulties experienced by persons with disabilities. These pictures are composites of issues which have come to our attention. See if you can paint some beauty into these depictions of obstacles to the mobility of travellers with disabilities.

1.A person using a walking aid standing at the top of an escalator by a down arrow sign.
2. A profoundly deaf person reading a newspaper in a departure lounge with a speaker overhead emitting the words “All passengers should now be on board.”
3. A confusing set of direction signs with the caption, “ I do not understand.”
4. A person in a wheelchair at the bottom of a pair of train stairs or a commuter aircraft stairway, with the caption, “all aboard.”
5. A blind person with her dog and the caption “Please read the information on the card in your seat pocket.”
6. A person extending a tray of drinks to a blind person with the caption “Help yourself.”
7. A hearing impaired person at a check-in counter, with the caption “Your ticket please.”
8. Two travellers at a ticket counter or security checkpoint with the service provider addressing the companion of the persons with a disability rather than speaking directly to the individual concerned.
9. A blind person and a deaf person at the front of an aircraft being told to find their seats in row number six.
10. A ground transportation vehicle in front of a person in a wheelchair with the caption “Get in.”
11. A picture of a person in a seat with her guide dog in the aisle and an attendant stating “There is no room at your seat for the dog.”
12. A blind man hurrying into a ladies’ washroom.
13. A person who does not have a visible disability being asked to get out of priority seating for persons with disabilities.
14. A person with diabetes, while eating an orange to prevent a reaction, is told not to eat her orange by a person pointing to a sign which says “No food permitted.”
15. A person with epilepsy is denied service for being perceived as drunk.
16. A person in a wheelchair regarding a sign indicating that she should go up the escalator to the departure level.
17. A hearing-impaired person wondering why everybody is leaving, with the caption “There has been a change in the boarding gate for the flight.”
18. A blind person with her dog walking out an entrance door or in an exit door.
19. A person in a wheelchair trying to communicate with a ticket agent above him and behind the wall of the check-in counter.
20. A sign for train 204 leaving at 402 from track 024 against the backdrop of a busy confusing terminal.
21. A passenger is required to remain in a Washington chair for a long period of time between connecting flights because here wheelchair, customized for her comfort, is not brought to her by the airline.
22. An onboard wheelchair is not provided; the passenger has to be carried up and down the aisles of the aircraft.

“The Open House”

Thirty years ago, these images may have been looked upon as acceptable or understandable. Today, on the threshold of the “Open House” of the future, these images are jarring. In other words, attitudes and expectations have gone far beyond the existing situation today.

The ideals of the right to self-determination and the dignity of risk are important considerations in the Agency’s approach to accessible transportation, which hinges on the concept of “undue obstacle”. This concept is not defined by legislation, but by decision and regulation, actions taking in a climate of increased acceptance of our right to live fully integrated lives within the community and to participate in all aspects of it.

We are moving far away from the view of individuals with disabilities as being “sick” and in need of a complex bureaucracy of services, to a view of disability as a live issue or social circumstance which relates to all sectors of society, including the family, the community, the church, business, and, the specific sector of concern to us, transportation under federal jurisdiction.

The government of Canada has placed its prestige, authority and skill in full support of accessible transportation. This has come about, to a large degree, in response to the persistent lobbying of provincial and local consumer groups of persons with disabilities. The growing level of participation and sense of empowerment among persons with disabilities is a very real factor to be taken into consideration by any provider of transportation services or regulator of transportation services such as the National Transportation Agency.

The Agency was established in 1988 under the National Transportation Action, 1987. It replaced the former Canadian Transport Commission as the federal regulator of Canadian transport systems. The Agency is primarily responsible for economic regulation. It controls the entry and exit of transportation providers into the Canadian market. It has broad powers to resolve disputes between carriers and shippers. It pays subsidies under a number of government programs to Canadian carriers.

The Agency has no policy-making responsibilities. It is there to administer law. The Agency acts with government policy although policy direction may not be given on any case currently before the Agency for decision. Agency regulations must be approved by Cabinet.

Surprisingly, in the middle of this piece of economic legislation, and thus in the middle of what is essentially an economic regulatory body, we fine the concept of a basic human right to accessibility. I suggest that it is primarily there to ensure that accommodating persons with disabilities will be considered and acceptable cost of doing business in this country. Its practical application is ensured by its inclusion in the Act, setting the operating parameters of the transportation industry.

The debate is fundamental. I’m always pointing out that you “serve” passengers and “handle” freight. The jargon of the industry and the rush to meet the need may cause us to momentarily lose sight of the human aspect of everything we do.

Within the Agency, the Accessible Transportation Directorate is responsible for the programs to ensure fair access to travellers with disabilities. A dynamic four-star program has been established and is vigorously being implemented as we move toward the “Open House” era of the 21st century. Its four stars are consultation, monitoring, complaint resolution, and regulation development.

Madame Forget, Member National Transportation Agency, describes for you how these four stars are used to practically apply the law to improve the quality of life for persons with disabilities through fair access to transportation.

It only remains for me to say to you today that there is a role for each and every one of us in this evolutionary process, on the personal and professional level. The legal profession has always been in the forefront of social change and advancement: we need not look further than the civil rights movement in the United States and the role played by the judicial system in the desegregation of schools.

Therefore, remember: one in seven of your colleagues, of you clients, and of the travelling public, is a person with a disability. As the population ages, this percentage will only grow larger. With understanding and concern for one another the numbers may grow larger, but the problems will grow smaller. As Marcia Rioux from the G. Allan Roeher Institute of Toronto reflected:

“The needs of persons with a disability should, however, not be thought of as special needs, anymore than the needs of those without disabilities might have been seen as special had those with disabilities designed the world initially.”

Join us in the “Open House” of the 21st century.

Appendix A
Significant Canadian Cases Affecting Persons with Disabilities

Boehm v. National System of Baking Ltd. (Ontario Board of Inquiry, March 19, 1987) 8 C.H.R.R. D/4110 (harassment in employment because of mental disability)

Cameron v. Nel-Gor Castle Nursing Home (1984) 5 C.H.R.R. D/2170 (applying the “incapable of performing the essential duties” test under the Ontario Human Rights Code to a nurses’ aid with a disabled hand).

Canadian Disability Rights Council v. Canada (Federal Court, Trial Division, October 17, 1988) 38 C.R.R 53 (right to vote for persons suffering from mental illness)

Canadian Pacific Ltd. V. Canadian Human Rights Commission and Mahon (Federal Cours of Appeal, June 16, 1987) 8 C.H.R.R. D/4263 (case of a stable diabetic refused employment with railway; issue of “risk”).

Clark v. Clark (1982), 40 O.R. (2d) 383, 4 C.H.R.R. 3 C.R.R. 342 (Ont. Co. Ct.) (assertion of mentally handicapped person’s right to make decisions on his own behalf as an adult; young man with severe cerebral palsy and mental disability declared competent).

Dayday v. MacEwan (1987), 62 O.R. (2d) 588 (Ont. Dist. Ct.) (detention of involuntary patient in a psychiatric facility).

Eve v. Mrs. E. (Supreme Court of Canada, October 23, 1986) [1986] 2 S.C.R. 388, 185 A.P.R 273, 61 Nfld and P.E.I.R. 273, 31 D.I.R. (4th) 1 (a non-therapeutic sterilization cannot be performed on a mentally disabled woman without her consent).

Huck v. Canadian Odeon Theatres Limited (Sask. Court of Appeal, March 4, 1985) 6 C.H.R.R. D/2682 (a wheelchair user is entitled to a choice of theatre seating equivalent to any other patron).

Kelly v. VIA Rail Canada (Railway Transport Committee, Canadian Transport Commission, April 24, 1980) 1 C.H.R.R D/97 (refusal to sell railway ticket to individual in a wheelchair).

Lanark, Leeds and Grenville County Roman Catholic Separate School Board v. Ontario Human Rights Commission (Ont. Supreme Court, June 22, 1987) 8 C.H.R.R D/4235 (Board of Inquiry ruling of discrimination on the ground of mental disability is reversed on the basis that school facilities lack the amenities, (i.e., necessary aides and trained teachers).

New Brunswick (Minister of Health and Community Services) V.B.(R.) (1990)m 70 D.L.R. (4th) 568 (N.B. Queen’s Bench) (denial of medical treatment to severely handicapped child).

Oiumette v. Lily Cups Ltd. 12 C.H.R.R. D/19 (Ontario Board of Inquiry, March 14, 1990 (sickness, such as a flu, is not a handicap within the meaning of the Ontario Human Rights Code).

Peters v. University Hospital Board (Sask. Court of Appeal, May 17, 1983) 4 C.H.R.R. D/1464 (access to facilities customarily available to the public by a blind person with a guide dog).

R. v. Ogg-Moss (S.C.C.) [1984] S.C.R. 171, 11 D.L.R. (4th) 549, 6 C.H.R.R. D/2498 (developmentally handicapped adults not to be exempted from protection of criminal law on the basis that they are “childlike”).

R. v. Swain (Ont. Court of Appeal) 24 C.C.C. (3d) 385 53 O.R. (2d) 609 50 C.R. (3d) 97 (right to a fair hearing concerning commitment to custody of a person declared not fit to stand trial; currently on appeal before the Supreme Court of Canada).

Re R.D. (Stephen Dawson case) (1983) 42 B.C.L.R. 173 (no one has the power to judge the quality of another’s life, regardless of disability).

Reference re Special Air Fare Policy for Attendants of Disabled Persons (Canadian Transport Commission, October 1986) (disabled people entitled under the Charter to have their attendants travel on their ticket i.e., “one person one fare”).

Trottier v. Ontario Express (National Transportation Agency, September 27, 1990) (disabled person has a right to fly in a commercial airplane and receive boarding assistance from the airline).

Also:

Andrews v. Law Society of British Columbia (S.C.C.) [1989] 2 W.W.R. 289, 56 D.L.R. (4th) 1, 10 C.H.R.R. D/5719 (on what is discrimination).

Central Alberta Dairy Pool v. Alberta (Human Rights Commission) (S.C.C.) [1990] 2 S.C.R. 489, 12 C.H.R.R. D/417 (on duty to accommodate).

Ontario Human Rights Commission v. Borough of Etobicoke (S.C.C.) [1982] 1 S.C.R. 202, 3 C.H.R.R. D/781 (on bona fide occupational requirements).

A VISION OF CULTURE

A VISION OF CULTURE BY: CHRISTOPHER STARK
Blind persons are expressing a need for a sense of identity. This search for identity has resulted in a fresh examination of the traditional perceptions of blindness. This quest for a more meaningful self-concept has resulted in a re-examination of the traditional impressions of blindness. Blind persons are in the early stages of this quest. Current thinking in this formative stage of development has resulted in new questions being asked, New problems are emerging. New theories are evolving.

Early on in the process of seeking a new understanding of blindness, it becomes apparent that the traditional views are inadequate. No longer are the terms disabled or handicapped adequate to describe the nature of blindness. The goal of integration is being replaced with the desire to discover the cultural identity of blindness. This is virgin territory of thought: crying out for exploration and understanding. The importance or significance of this new philosophy is yet to be accepted and appreciated by the academic community or for that matter, the general public.

Can blindness be equated with the concept of culture? Perhaps one way of tackling this question would be to consider blindness in terms of the criteria listed in the Webster’s Dictionary for a culture. The dictionary lists six criteria relating to the concept of culture:

1)The act of developing the intellectual and moral
facilities, especially by education.

2)Expert care and training.

3) Enlightenment and excellence of taste acquired by intellectual and aesthetic training.

4)Acquaintance with and taste in fine arts, humanities, and
broad aspects of science as distinguished from vocational
and technical skills

5)The integrated pattern of human behavior that includes thought, speech, action, and artifacts and depends upon
man’s capacity for learning and transmitting knowledge to
succeeding generations.

6)The customary beliefs, social forms, and material traits of
a racial, religious, or social group.

Part of the tradition of blindness is the accomplishments and contributions made by outstanding blind persons such as Helen Keller and Louis Braille. A number of blind persons such as Tom Sullivan, who wrote, “If You Can See What I Hear” have written extensively of their experiences and impressions of society. Such writings demonstrate the unique intellectual and moral development of blind persons. No longer do blind persons find it necessary to apologize for their blindness. It is more appropriate to take pride in their accomplishments and achievements of fellow blind persons. To derive strength from the accomplishments ” of “others. To admire excellence! Creating an awareness among blind persons and for that matter, the general public of their rich and vivid heritage is all part of the education process. In human terms it is difficult to deny the uniqueness of blindness.

Considerable time is spent by professionals who help individuals obtain the necessary skills to cope with the effects of blindness. The traditional approach to this training has been to emphasize the technical aspects of skills development such as: braille reading and writing, touch typing, orientation and mobility. Gradually, this approach is being modified to include an exposure to the emotional, ethnic, spiritual and historical aspects of blindness. Greater efforts are now being made by many blind persons to take expert care and training of the image of blindness and the impression created by the term. Blind persons have acquired an acquaintance and a taste in fine arts, humanities, and a broad aspect of science such as distinguished from vocational and technical skills. The-love of fine music and the skill of many blind persons in this field is well known. Blind persons appreciation and perception of fine art is also different than that of sighted persons. A blind persons impressions of art such as a sculpture or a painting differs from that of a sighted person. However, who is to say that a blind persons impressions are not as profound or significant as those derived by a person who has spent many hours gazing at an artistic wonder. Appreciation of art takes many forms. The expression of this appreciation by artists who are blind is worthy of exhibit. A blind persons capacity in the humanities and sciences has a uniqueness of it’s own. The fact that the emotional and aesthetic development of a blind person takes place with out the influence in part or in whole of the visual sense in itself indicates that there will be a difference in perception.

Blind persons have demonstrated an integrated pattern of human behavior that includes thought, speech, action and the artifacts of a culture, which depends upon man’s capacity to learn to transmit knowledge to successive generations. It soon becomes apparent to any one who associates with blind persons that they enjoy the company of one another. This common bond has too often been dismissed as trivia. This natural affinity has often been exploited. The concept of the herd of poor unfortunate blind persons attending a musical concert is a concept that society can easily relate to, The question of integration has clouded the issue and diverted attention from the question of cultural identity. Integrating a person in to a society for example, implies that person before he or she is integrated is somewhere else (the 5th Dimension perhaps?). This is an indefensible philosophical concept. Even if a person is not integrated, as we have come to understand the term, he is still a member of the community and has some effect on the overall social patterns of that society. Unfortunately, the concept of integration has evolved into a status symbol associated with program successor value judgements. Since the values used to make these judgements are not the values of a blind person, then it can be argued that the entire concept is inappropriate. Many blind persons have embraced these false values, “I am integrated! I married a sighted person. I work with a sighted person. All my friends are sighted-People.” Perhaps blind people prefer to associate on occasion with one another because of a common bond which transcends the notion of blindness as only a physical being. Is not this common being a result of a natural cultural affinity?

The application of values of others have often resulted in blind persons denying their heritage. Cultural assault on blindness has resulted in many blind persons feeling ashamed of their-roots.

Blind persons have yet to develop cultural defense mechanisms strong enough to protect blindness from this constant cultural raping. A poster put out by an Industrial Eye Safety Organization in Canada depicted a pure white cane and guide dog on a midnight black background with the bold message at the top, “AVOID THE CHOICE”! Although their motives were admirable, the affect is unfortunate. What impression of blindness is being conveyed by this image? Negative statements about blindness are often made with out realizing their deep significance. For example, the song that states, “There are none so blind as those who will not see” or the advertisement by an International Relief Agency raising funds which stated, “Illiteracy is Like Being Blind”, which was accompanied by a picture of a silhouette of a human form with bulbus pure white blank eyes, staring vacantly into nothingness signifying a lack of a cultural appreciation of blindness. Similar examples occur ‘every day.

The unique thoughts and actions of blind persons need to be examined in the light of a cultural prospective. The artifacts are numerous, The evolution of the white cane, braille writer and the many other aids and appliances used by blind persons have a profound influence on the culture of the blind. The many specialized skills used by blind persons to compensate for the non-¬availability of the visual sense (in part or in whole) are passed on from generation to generation. Each new generation of blind persons inherits this knowledge and adapts it and improves upon the accomplishments of previous generations. These are the cultural traits of a social group. The customs, beliefs, and social forms of this social group have long been denied. They need to be respected. and appreciated for the well being of society. The Canadian fabric can be enriched by the culture of blindness in the same way that it has been enriched through the growing awareness of it’s language, ethnic and religious component cultures.

Recently a totally blind person stated, “if you are totally blind your perception of your identity and the identity of those around you is different. Blind persons make judgements on a different plane than sighted people. I appreciate sound not color. Attitude not appearance. Sincerity can be masked through changes in expression but rarely do people think to disguise the feelings expressed through the sound of their voice. A blind person may use different criteria to judge friendship”.

Through the concept of blindness as a culture an understanding of the aesthetic beauty of blindness emerges. An acceptance of blindness as a force for good, not a force for evil and an acceptance of the heritage of the blind as a valued aspect of the development of the fabric of the country. There is a need to discover and appreciate the contributions of blind persons in Canada in all fields ranging from the arts to the humanities. There is a need to foster an understanding of the role that blind persons have played in the heritage of Canada. To develop an official recognition of the characteristics and manners of cultural expressions of blind persons. To perceive and support the artistic traditions of the blind as they themselves perceive them. To catalogue and record the growth and ability of blind persons in working towards a mutual acceptance and awareness of the culture of the blind. To catalogue and record the contributions of blind persons in such fields as: the arts, the humanities, the evolution of communication (language, education, recorded forms, etc … skills development, opportunities, history, writings, social Patterns, recreation, sports, perception, and attitude. The undertakings of such projects can be a moving and rewarding experience for all Canadians.

Proposed Research Topics on Blindness

1. Blind Persons as Pedestrians

2. History of Blindness in Canada

3. Biographies of Individual Blind Persons

4. Blind Persons as Consumers

5. The Financial Implications of Blindness The Cost of Blindness

6. Socialization Without Sight

7. An Analysis of the Interaction Between Blind Persons and Volunteers

8. Blind Persons as Parents

9. The Effects of Blindness On Sighted Children of Blind Parents

10. The Heredity Factor and Blindness – An Emotional Evaluation

11. An Analysis of the Effects of the Isolation Tendency on Blind Persons and Deaf-Blind Persons

12. Blindness as Portrayed By the Media

13. The Tin Cup Syndrome

14, The Differences in Verbalization Between Blind Persons and Sighted Persons

15, Blind Persons and the Natural Environment

16, An Analysis of the Unique Aspirations and Goals of Blind Persons in the Recreation Field

17. The Fear of Vastness, ie., Water, Heights, etc.

18. The Role of Humor in Accommodating One’s Blindness

19. Blindness and Human Rights – The Consumer’s Perspective

20. Systemic Obstacles to the Advancement of Blind Persons

21. Reactions to Blindness by Blind Persons

22. Blind Persons Vision of Sightedness

23. Braille Art – Fact or Fancy

24. Institutional Cultural Denial – The Whys and Wherefores

25. Little Bo-Blind – The Effect of Paternalism on Human Development

26. The Institute for the Sighted

27. Blindness and Perception of Images

28. Aids and alliances negative impact on the Self Concept of the Sociological Effects of Blindness

29. Coping with Disabilities – Humanism Through Gadgetry

30. Conscious Streaming and Blindness

31. The Making of Misconceptions About Blind Persons

32. Blindness and the Struggle Between Good and Evil

33. The Evolution of Communication Skills

34. Attitudes of Blind Persons to Other Disabled Groups

35. Blindness – Dignity or Disgrace

36. Live Theater and the Blind

37. The Academics of Blindness

38. The Portrait of Blindness in Literature

39. The Portrait of Blindness in the Holy Bible

40. The Portrait of Blindness in Poetry and Art

41. Fantasies of Blind Persons

42. Illiteracy and Blind Persons – The Effects of Using Recorded Material In Place of Reading and Writing

43. The Faking of a Blind Man

44. Orientation and Visual Disabilities

45. Visually Impaired Persons Verses Totally Blind Persons – The Great Land Rush for Identity

46. Accessibility for the Blind – Sensitivity Verses Technology

47. Sociological Effects of Blindness on the Aging Process

48. The Psychological Impact of Blindness on the Work Place

49. Evolution of Attitudes Towards Blindness In Canada

50. Programming Self-Determination for Blind Persons

51. The Helping Motivation

52. Blind Persons and the Medical Profession

53. The Medical Perception of Blindness

From Warehouse to Greenhouse to Open House

From Warehouse to Greenhouse to Open House

An Address to the Air and Space Law Section of the Canadian Bar Association

By Chris Stark ()

August 1991

 

Table of Contents

p. 1 Introduction

p. 2 The Warehouse

p. 3 The Greenhouse

p. 6 The Open House

Appendices

p. 9 Appendix A – Significant Canadian Cases Affecting Persons with Disabilities

 

 

Introduction

 

We are eagerly awaiting the great life.  We are anxious for change.

 

Yes, Canada is a great place to live.  We are wheezing, tapping and rolling our way into our rightful place of dignity and independence within the Canadian fabric.  Our resolve is fortified by what we have endured and survived in the past.

 

The continuum of our evolution can be divided into three areas, or three time periods, which are demarcated by distinct social attitudes:

 

– the era when persons with disabilities were pitied and looked after (the “warehouse”);

– the current era, in which persons with disabilities are discovering our own identity and society is discovering our abilities as we grow together (the “greenhouse”); and

– the approaching era of empowerment and autonomy (the “open house”).

 

Let’s consider these three areas and conclude with a brief overview of how the National Transportation Agency is contributing to the concept of accessible transportation for persons with disabilities.  My co-presenter, Madam Forget, Member the National Transportation Agency, will elaborate on the role of the Agency.

 

“The Warehouse”

 

Not so long ago, the majority of people with disabilities – those of us who survived – lived in residential institutions, where we were cared for as patients.  This institutional medical model was based on the belief that we were incapacitated.  Individuals with individual disabilities were treated as a homogeneous group: services were designed to meet group, rather than individual, needs.  One result of this institutional treatment was that the non-disabled community remained largely unaware of people with disabilities.

 

This so-called “warehouse” period is within the living memory of many.  I, for example, at the age of five, left home of ten months of the year to attend a residential school for the blind, the proud traditions of which were rooted in the original asylums for the blind.  My parents had no alternative but to send me there if I was to have an education.

 

Among my vivid recollections of this experience are images of very small children pressing their faces against the bars of a fence, looking longingly out at the sighted world.  The notion of “us” and “them” had very real and specific meaning for us.  For ten years, the “norm” in my world was that blind people were the overwhelming majority.

 

Our future prospects were few and defined by the expectations of others.  If we were fortunate, we were told, we might work in a sheltered workshop or operate a canteen.

 

Still, blind people were the lucky ones.  The life expectancy of many people with severe disabilities could be measured in months.  Most children with disabilities did not go to school.  Most adults with disabilities lived in medical institutions, a tradition that had gone on for decades.  Those who lived in the mainstream of society, often struggling alone with the after-effects of institutionalization, reinforced the existing myths and stereotypes about persons with disabilities.

 

Initiated by the catalyst of the Vietnam War and its aftermath, the era of the “greenhouse” is now thriving.  The traumatized and newly-disabled soldiers returning from Vietnam provided the models from which society as a whole benefited.  There veterans refused to accept or tolerate the traditional way in which society related to its members with disabilities.

 

Canada’s proximity to the United   States means that we, too, are benefiting from this accelerated progress.  The advancement of rehabilitative medicine and the provision of government social services have contributed to a vast improvement in the quality of life for persons with disabilities.

 

While the remainder of the this presentation will deal with transportation services for persons with disabilities today, in the era of the “greenhouse”, we should not lose sight of the fact that for many persons with disabilities throughout the world, the era of the “warehouse” is still a reality of daily life.

 

“The Greenhouse”

 

Since the beginning of the “Decade of the Disabled” in 1981, the Parliament of Canada has planted numerous seeds of change in the “greenhouse” by issuing no fewer than eleven reports focusing attention on the aspirations of persons with disabilities.  These reports have covered the spectrum of human interest from recreation and education to employment and transportation.

 

A number of Acts of Parliament have firmly rooted this growing understanding in the fertile soil of Canadian society today.  The provisions of the Canadian Human Rights Act, The Charter of Rights and Freedoms, and the National Transportation Act, 1987, contain guarantees of protection and the promotion of freedoms.  These are founded in the evolutionized status of persons with disabilities, which has fostered our strong desire for the blooming of independence and integration.

 

Two important corollaries of these principles are the right to self-determination and the dignity of risk.  We must be the ones to direct services and resources for ourselves.  We must be the ones to determine how the available alternatives can be used to our best advantage.

 

The movement towards integration and demedicalization implies personal choice, user control over ongoing support services, and equal access to the rights and responsibilities accorded to all Canadians.  This concept is supported by Section 15 of the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms.

 

In 1986, Statistics Canada estimated that more than 3.3 million Canadians (13.2% of the population) reported a disability.  For these people, accessible transportation is a necessity and a right.  With accessible transportation, people can become integrated into the community.  It becomes possible to travel to and from school, a place of employment, or medical and recreational facilities.  Through accessible transportation, persons with disabilities can participate more effectively and fully in community life.

 

Although the numbers illustrate just how much of a problem we have yet to overcome, they also show how much progress we have made.  According to Statistics Canada, in 1986, 58% of persons with disabilities who reported needing urban transportation had access to it.

 

Most specialized transportation services which operate parallel to public transportation systems function on the charitable model.  In 1986, 247,275 Canadians with disabilities were reported to be living in institutions, including 2,400 children under the age of 15.

 

The trend in education is toward placement decisions based on individual need resulting in greater mainstreaming at all levels.  For example, in 1986, 4.3% of persons with disabilities received a university education, as compared to 10.3% of the general public.

 

In the same period, it was estimated that 25.4% of Canadian families with a member who had a disability were below the officially-determined “low income” or “poverty” level, as compared to 15.5% of Canadian families without a member with a disability.  In 1985, 57.3% of working age persons with disabilities had total annual incomes of less than $10,000.

 

Persons with disabilities of working age have higher rates of unemployment than the general workforce: the unemployment rate in 1986 for persons with disabilities was 15.2%, as compared with 10.7% unemployment in the general population.  This does not take into account a large percentage of persons with disabilities who have given up searching for work altogether.

 

Parenthetically, it is interesting to note that, according to the Department of the Secretary of State’s analysis of Statistics Canada’s 1986 Health and Activity Limitation Survey, the degree of poverty of persons with disabilities is correlational to the severity of their disabilities.  Surprisingly, the largest percentage of persons with disabilities who are defined as poor are persons who are blind or visually impaired, follow closely by persons with either cognitive or mobility disabilities.

 

The work of the National Transportation Agency must be viewed in the context of today’s reality.  Ours is a situation in which transportation is a vital foundation to the advancement of persons with disabilities.  Once a person has chosen to exercise the dignity of risk and walk across the threshold into the community, that choice must be respected, encouraged, and, most importantly, accommodated.

 

Not all persons with disabilities are at the same level of social advancement or have the same abilities.  Appropriate transportation services for travellers with disabilities are those which incorporate the principle of choice base on individual need rather than choice based on membership in a particular disability group.  For example, not all persons who are blind or visually impaired have the same needs.  We have all developed our individual methods of coping with the limitations of our disabilities.

 

Persons with disabilities, like all persons, are unique individuals with unique accomplishments.  With each achievement, we become less willing to accept the indignities thrust upon us by systems and services which respond to us as “the blind” or “the handicapped” or “the disabled.”

 

Before concluding with an overview of how the National Transportation Agency is contributing to the “Open House” of the future, let’s look at some of these travel difficulties experienced by persons with disabilities.  These pictures are composites of issues which have come to our attention.  See if you can paint some beauty into these depictions of obstacles to the mobility of travellers with disabilities.

 

1.A person using a walking aid standing at the top of an escalator by a down arrow sign.

2. A profoundly deaf person reading a newspaper in a departure lounge with a speaker overhead emitting the words “All passengers should now be on board.”

3. A confusing set of direction signs with the caption, “ I do not understand.”

4. A person in a wheelchair at the bottom of a pair of train stairs or a commuter aircraft stairway, with the caption, “all aboard.”

5. A blind person with her dog and the caption “Please read the information on the card in your seat pocket.”

6. A person extending a tray of drinks to a blind person with the caption “Help yourself.”

7. A hearing impaired person at a check-in counter, with the caption “Your ticket please.”

8. Two travellers at a ticket counter or security checkpoint with the service provider addressing the companion of the persons with a disability rather than speaking directly to the individual concerned.

9. A blind person and a deaf person at the front of an aircraft being told to find their seats in row number six.

10. A ground transportation vehicle in front of a person in a wheelchair with the caption “Get in.”

11. A picture of a person in a seat with her guide dog in the aisle and an attendant stating “There is no room at your seat for the dog.”

12. A blind man hurrying into a ladies’ washroom.

13. A person who does not have a visible disability being asked to get out of priority seating for persons with disabilities.

14. A person with diabetes, while eating an orange to prevent a reaction, is told not to eat her orange by a person pointing to a sign which says “No food permitted.”

15. A person with epilepsy is denied service for being perceived as drunk.

16. A person in a wheelchair regarding a sign indicating that she should go up the escalator to the departure level.

17. A hearing-impaired person wondering why everybody is leaving, with the caption “There has been a change in the boarding gate for the flight.”

18. A blind person with her dog walking out an entrance door or in an exit door.

19. A person in a wheelchair trying to communicate with a ticket agent above him and behind the wall of the check-in counter.

20. A sign for train 204 leaving at 402 from track 024 against the backdrop of a busy confusing terminal.

21. A passenger is required to remain in a Washington chair for a long period of time between connecting flights because here wheelchair, customized for her comfort, is not brought to her by the airline.

22. An onboard wheelchair is not provided; the passenger has to be carried up and down the aisles of the aircraft.

 

“The Open House”

 

Thirty years ago, these images may have been looked upon as acceptable or understandable.  Today, on the threshold of the “Open House” of the future, these images are jarring.  In other words, attitudes and expectations have gone far beyond the existing situation today.

 

The ideals of the right to self-determination and the dignity of risk are important considerations in the Agency’s approach to accessible transportation, which hinges on the concept of “undue obstacle”.  This concept is not defined by legislation, but by decision and regulation, actions taking in a climate of increased acceptance of our right to live fully integrated lives within the community and to participate in all aspects of it.

 

We are moving far away from the view of individuals with disabilities as being “sick” and in need of a complex bureaucracy of services, to a view of disability as a live issue or social circumstance which relates to all sectors of society, including the family, the community, the church, business, and, the specific sector of concern to us, transportation under federal jurisdiction.

 

The government of Canada has placed its prestige, authority and skill in full support of accessible transportation.  This has come about, to a large degree, in response to the persistent lobbying of provincial and local consumer groups of persons with disabilities.  The growing level of participation and sense of empowerment among persons with disabilities is a very real factor to be taken into consideration by any provider of transportation services or regulator of transportation services such as the National Transportation Agency.

 

The Agency was established in 1988 under the National Transportation Action, 1987.  It replaced the former Canadian Transport Commission as the federal regulator of Canadian transport systems.  The Agency is primarily responsible for economic regulation.  It controls the entry and exit of transportation providers into the Canadian market.  It has broad powers to resolve disputes between carriers and shippers.  It pays subsidies under a number of government programs to Canadian carriers.

 

The Agency has no policy-making responsibilities.  It is there to administer law.  The Agency acts with government policy although policy direction may not be given on any case currently before the Agency for decision.  Agency regulations must be approved by Cabinet.

 

Surprisingly, in the middle of this piece of economic legislation, and thus in the middle of what is essentially an economic regulatory body, we fine the concept of a basic human right to accessibility.  I suggest that it is primarily there to ensure that accommodating persons with disabilities will be considered and acceptable cost of doing business in this country.  Its practical application is ensured by its inclusion in the Act, setting the operating parameters of the transportation industry.

 

In the area of services for persons with disabilities, the Agency has quite broad powers to provide fair access to federal transportation systems, including air, rail, marine and bus transportation in Newfoundland.  The National Transportation policy, contained in the National Transportation Act, states that providers of transportation must not pose undo obstacles to the mobility of persons with disabilities.  When the Act was passed in 1987, the Agency was given responsibility for enquiring into complaints about undue obstacles.  In 1988 the Act was amended to give the Agency broader powers of making regulations, subject to the approval of the Governor in Council, for the purpose of removing undue obstacles in Canada’s transportation network.

 

The debate is fundamental.  I’m always pointing out that you “serve” passengers and “handle” freight.  The jargon of the industry and the rush to meet the need may cause us to momentarily lose sight of the human aspect of everything we do.

 

Within the Agency, the Accessible Transportation Directorate is responsible for the programs to ensure fair access to travellers with disabilities.  A dynamic four-star program has been established and is vigorously being implemented as we move toward the “Open House” era of the 21st century.  Its four stars are consultation, monitoring, complaint resolution, and regulation development.

 

Madame Forget, Member National Transportation Agency, describes for you how these four stars are used to practically apply the law to improve the quality of life for persons with disabilities through fair access to transportation.

 

It only remains for me to say to you today that there is a role for each and every one of us in this evolutionary process, on the personal and professional level.  The legal profession has always been in the forefront of social change and advancement: we need not look further than the civil rights movement in the United States and the role played by the judicial system in the desegregation of schools.

 

Therefore, remember: one in seven of your colleagues, of you clients, and of the travelling public, is a person with a disability.  As the population ages, this percentage will only grow larger.  With understanding and concern for one another the numbers may grow larger, but the problems will grow smaller.  As Marcia Rioux from the G. Allan Roeher Institute of Toronto reflected:

 

“The needs of persons with a disability should, however, not be thought of as special needs, anymore than the needs of those without disabilities might have been seen as special had those with disabilities designed the world initially.”

 

Join us in the “Open House” of the 21st century.

 

Appendix A

Significant Canadian Cases Affecting Persons with Disabilities

 

Boehm v. National System of Baking Ltd. (Ontario Board of Inquiry, March 19, 1987) 8 C.H.R.R. D/4110 (harassment in employment because of mental disability)

 

Cameron v. Nel-Gor Castle Nursing Home (1984) 5 C.H.R.R. D/2170 (applying the “incapable of performing the essential duties” test under the Ontario Human Rights Code to a nurses’ aid with a disabled hand).

 

Canadian Disability Rights Council v. Canada (Federal Court, Trial Division, October 17, 1988) 38 C.R.R 53 (right to vote for persons suffering from mental illness)

 

Canadian Pacific Ltd. V. Canadian Human Rights Commission and Mahon (Federal Cours of Appeal, June 16, 1987) 8 C.H.R.R. D/4263 (case of a stable diabetic refused employment with railway; issue of “risk”).

 

Clark v. Clark (1982), 40 O.R. (2d) 383, 4 C.H.R.R. 3 C.R.R. 342 (Ont. Co. Ct.) (assertion of mentally handicapped person’s right to make decisions on his own behalf as an adult; young man with severe cerebral palsy and mental disability declared competent).

 

Dayday v. MacEwan (1987), 62 O.R. (2d) 588 (Ont. Dist. Ct.) (detention of involuntary patient in a psychiatric facility).

 

Eve v. Mrs. E. (Supreme Court of Canada, October 23, 1986) [1986] 2 S.C.R. 388, 185 A.P.R 273, 61 Nfld and P.E.I.R. 273, 31 D.I.R. (4th) 1 (a non-therapeutic sterilization cannot be performed on a mentally disabled woman without her consent).

 

Huck v. Canadian Odeon Theatres Limited (Sask. Court of Appeal, March 4, 1985) 6 C.H.R.R. D/2682 (a wheelchair user is entitled to a choice of theatre seating equivalent to any other patron).

 

Kelly v. VIA Rail Canada (Railway Transport Committee, Canadian Transport Commission, April 24, 1980) 1 C.H.R.R D/97 (refusal to sell railway ticket to individual in a wheelchair).

 

Lanark, Leeds and Grenville County Roman Catholic Separate School Board v. Ontario Human Rights Commission (Ont. Supreme Court, June 22, 1987) 8 C.H.R.R D/4235 (Board of Inquiry ruling of discrimination on the ground of mental disability is reversed on the basis that school facilities lack the amenities, (i.e., necessary aides and trained teachers).

 

New   Brunswick (Minister of Health and Community Services) V.B.(R.) (1990)m 70 D.L.R. (4th) 568 (N.B. Queen’s Bench) (denial of medical treatment to severely handicapped child).

 

Oiumette v. Lily Cups Ltd. 12 C.H.R.R. D/19 (Ontario Board of Inquiry, March 14, 1990 (sickness, such as a flu, is not a handicap within the meaning of the Ontario Human Rights Code).

 

Peters v. University Hospital Board (Sask. Court of Appeal, May 17, 1983) 4 C.H.R.R. D/1464 (access to facilities customarily available to the public by a blind person with a guide dog).

 

R. v. Ogg-Moss (S.C.C.) [1984] S.C.R. 171, 11 D.L.R. (4th) 549, 6 C.H.R.R. D/2498 (developmentally handicapped adults not to be exempted from protection of criminal law on the basis that they are “childlike”).

 

R. v. Swain (Ont. Court of Appeal) 24 C.C.C. (3d) 385 53 O.R. (2d) 609 50 C.R. (3d) 97 (right to a fair hearing concerning commitment to custody of a person declared not fit to stand trial; currently on appeal before the Supreme Court of Canada).

 

Re R.D. (Stephen Dawson case) (1983) 42 B.C.L.R. 173 (no one has the power to judge the quality of another’s life, regardless of disability).

 

Reference re Special Air Fare Policy for Attendants of Disabled Persons (Canadian Transport Commission, October 1986) (disabled people entitled under the Charter to have their attendants travel on their ticket i.e., “one person one fare”).

 

Trottier v. Ontario Express (National Transportation Agency, September 27, 1990) (disabled person has a right to fly in a commercial airplane and receive boarding assistance from the airline).

 

Also:

 

Andrews v. Law Society of British Columbia (S.C.C.) [1989] 2 W.W.R. 289, 56 D.L.R. (4th) 1, 10 C.H.R.R. D/5719 (on what is discrimination).

 

Central Alberta Dairy Pool v. Alberta (Human Rights Commission) (S.C.C.) [1990] 2 S.C.R. 489, 12 C.H.R.R. D/417 (on duty to accommodate).

 

Ontario Human Rights Commission v. Borough of Etobicoke (S.C.C.) [1982] 1 S.C.R. 202, 3 C.H.R.R. D/781 (on bona fide occupational requirements).