Almost 17 years ago, a perfectly bald, 7lbs, 5oz little girl was born. One month after a major hurricane swept through our town. One month after we had to shift everything to another city and realign our lives. She was beautiful. Another month after that, we received a diagnosis. Our amazing little girl had bilateral microphthalmia and colobomas (missing parts) affecting her iris, optic nerve, and retina in both eyes. Her prognosis was stable, but there was no guarantee of any vision.
A flurry of emotions would follow until one day, after a scheduled MRI, we had a quiet moment. Just her and me, in my childhood home where we were staying after the hurricane, I made her a promise. “I don’t care if you can see the world; you are going to feel how much I love you every single day.” That was it…a fire within me was lit. I was no longer just her advocate; I would become one for our whole community. I would learn from and counsel other parents. I would celebrate victories and mourn losses of children and dreams.
This community is so special. No one wants to be part of it, yet we can all join it at any time.
If I could go back and tell that young 22-year-old mother anything, it would be this: You are so much stronger than you think. You will help her move mountains and break down stereotypes. There will never be a moment when you are not afraid to see her cross a busy six-lane street all by herself and with just a white cane. You will still experience the grief of lost dreams, like when another child from her class gets their driver’s license or a summer job they can travel to independently. Not the same as a devastating loss of a child, but still a loss that you feel from time to time. Trying with all your heart to be so thankful you have a healthy child but still wishing things could just be a little easier for her, yet knowing she was made for a purpose. All the emotions come together in a beautifully hard moment at once.
But despite all the barriers society keeps putting in her way, she will break them down with tenacity, beauty, and grit that will inspire people every single day. She has taught me how to be a better mother to her brothers. She helped me tackle her brother’s ADHD and speech diagnoses. I learned from her how not to let a diagnosis define our abilities.
Now, as we go into our 17th October of recognizing White Cane Day, we will celebrate her once again. Shaking the foundation of what it means to be visually impaired and disabled. Singing joyfully as she overcomes challenges to be the best version of herself, just the way she was born to be.
From the National Federation of the Blind:
The History of White Cane Awareness Day
While it was not uncommon throughout history for blind people to use a stick or cane to navigate, society largely didn’t accept that blind people could travel by ourselves until recently. In the 1960s, the National Federation of the Blind became a leader in fighting for the rights of the blind and in pioneering innovative training programs using the white cane. At our urging, the United States Congress adopted a joint resolution in 1964 designating October 15 of each year as White Cane Safety Day and recognizing that white canes enable blind people to travel safely and independently.
by Alethea Mshar 
by Charissa Bates 
by Allison Lefebvre 
