Name: Hazel Dudley
Gender: Female
Age: 67
Country: UK
Name of EBU member: RNIB
Number of words of essay: 1005
Merci Beaucoup
When I was born I had an eye defect. So much so that my parents, even
though I had quite a bit of sight, were obliged to scour Woolies for large
picture books for me to enjoy. I had been in and out of hospital for the first
year of my life and my surgeon thought that I would keep my vision. Sadly for
me, he did not count on my wont to try to take notice of everything I could,
and it was on a summer's evening when I was about seven that I watched my
young brother and cousin playing ball. I guess it was not much bigger than a
tennis ball, and, as luck would have it, suddenly the ball bounced and instead
of seeing stars, I saw tiny little black balls. Yeah, you've guessed it. The ball
hit my left eye - the only good one which served me, so that was that. I could
see light for a time but by the age of nine, absolutely nothing.
Mind you, I think I crammed rather a lot of good sights into my head before
my vision went. My family, colours, flowers, stars, the sky, birds, the sea and
beach, grass, cows and cars, - is there an end? Probably.
I went to a residential nursery school where they tried to teach us Braille
though I didn't understand the why or wherefore since I had so much sight.
When I started proper school we learned to write Braille with what was called
a writing frame and a dotter. You had to press hard and write the dots
individually. I didn't mind that, but what fascinated me much more was to
hold the paper to face the window and have the light dance through the
Braille. This was fun to look at.
Of course it got more serious as did school. I learned to read, and loved it. I
did not realise how difficult it would get. Why would I? Every book I ever
wanted was in the school so it was a case of looking through the
horrendously big volumes of Braille, and most books were in at least three
volumes - my favourite: "Little Women" was in three; some books you couldn't
get, and in my day, not a single magazine that a young person would like to
read. Oh there were weeklies such as "Home Help" which was a women's
magazine and I think a monthly called "The School Magazine" but as I was
growing up, I wanted to read "Jackie", "Valentine" and "Beatles Monthly"..
For this reason I became more than a bit frustrated with Braille although, as
an adult, I now realise how grateful I should have been. Why, of course, at
least I could read!
As I got older, I stopped reading as a form of protest. Quite to whom, I am
not certain, but I started to think if I could not have what I wanted then why
bother? What a right little Madam!
At this time, I still had the need for gratitude to Monsieur Braille, although I did
not see it at the time. Because of the lack of magazines in this country, the
American teenagers with whom I began to correspond, in Braille, would send
American magazines such as "Teen Time" and "American Girl". These
contained articles about many of their TV stars, plus high school love stories.
Oh yes, just the kind of thing a teenage girl wanted to read.
One of my friends and I used to write such long letters that we'd send them
with a big clip through the paper - they were just like books. I think we knew
everything about each other. Then, rebel that I was, and not an amusement
to my teachers, I understood the need for using capital letters in Braille. My
theory was that if I used them in typing and if the majority of the population
used them, then why didn't I do so. I turned immediately to American Braille
which then meant putting a dot 6 in front of the first letter of the sentence, and
also before a proper name. It also meant using slightly different combinations
of the contracted version of Braille. My teachers said they found it confusing I still do not understand why, but mine was to do and not question. But I did
question and did not do!
Another reason for Braille was that in my last year in school, I learned Braille
shorthand. In fact I studied it so well that when I reached the point when I
was ready to take exams, I got to 120 WPM and could in fact write faster. So
my career as a shorthand typist began.
After I started work, I stopped reading, as the books were not readily
available. I missed reading but if I could not do it in the comfortable manner
in which I liked, I would do without.
So when the Optacon arrived in the 1970s - a piece of equipment which I
would not call exactly comfortable, but absolutely iconic of its time, I was well
happy. Had I not been so proficient in Braille I may not have done so well
learning how to use this device, which allowed me to read print with my
finger. It opened so many doors for me.
Now it's all Kindle and electronic. I embrace technology. I use Braille only
when I need to read any text aloud and want it to sound fluent and noiseless.
Finally, Yet another reason for gratitude: I lost touch with my American friend
with whom I exchanged all those great epistles many years ago. Last year
she found me on Facebook. What a lovely surprise! She is coming to the UK
this month - the first time we have met - and we are both looking forward to it
so much. I have planned many adventures for us, from visits to Paris to
Liverpool to the changing of the guard.