For Janet Parmerter DiNola, a white cane could have solved numerous problems, but vanity and fear took over. Generally a fun pastime, shopping was a formidable challenge. Still, lessons learned the hard way can result in successful endings. Ironically, the ending to this story can be labeled a humorous disaster. Janet delights us again with “There are Two Sides to Every (Ski Button) Story”:
Being visually impaired since the age of nine, I have adjusted to most situations with a grain of salt – well, maybe more accurate is I have adjusted with a pound of humor. At first look, most don’t think I have a disability and often say to me, “You look so normal”, I’d like to ask, “What exactly does normal look like?”
Working as a runway model in New York City, I successfully hid my vision loss for many years, evidenced by the fact I never fell off a runway or walked through a mirror! It’s possible I didn’t fit the stereotypical view of a “blind person” with dark glasses and a white cane. If people had known I couldn’t see I’m sure the comments would fly. Many times I laughed to myself, imagining cynical comments like “A blind model? Get real…that would NEVER happen!” or “Come on…who’d hire her, The “Love Is Blind” poster people?”
In an effort to achieve a “normal” life, I finally attended the Denville New Jersey School for the Blind where I was trained to use an assistive device designed for the blind. It may have been small in size, but for me it was a huge mental obstacle. It was a simple folding white cane with a red tip widely used by the blind and visually impaired when walking. To begin using this aid I needed to jump a few self-imposed hurdles.
My first hurdle was fear. In New York, I felt using a cane I would be seen as an easy target – especially to muggers. The second, and biggest, hurdle was my vanity. It was very, very humbling for me to use my cane in public. At first I was somewhat embarrassed unfolding it. Often I left it in the car, or held it under my arm. Each time my friend Kim saw me without it, she firmly questioned, “Janet, where’s your cane?” Over and over she asked the same question until my embarrassment waned. Now, together with my “red tipped white knight,” we have won my independence. Since January 2000 B.C., (Before Cane) I’ve felt an enormous weight lifted off my shoulders, while navigating the twisting paths of life with a simple tap, tap, tap.
Prior to my using the cane, people were unaware of how difficult it was for me to see and accomplish ordinary tasks. Recognizing or greeting friends created unpleasant issues. Hearing a familiar voice, I’d happily say hello to my friends, the next time I would walk right by, not recognizing them. They thought I deliberately ignored them, walking around with my nose in the air, not even acknowledging them. I was called “stuck-up” for passing them without as much as a smile. Some accused me of feeling superior to them while “living in my own little world.” My friends never knew my seemingly distant attitude was because I really didn’t see them. How could they know I spent every second analyzing each step of my surroundings? How could they understand I was using every sound, smell, feeling, and what little sight I had, as a means to figure out my location?
In order to determine what was going on around me, I’d scrutinize forms, colors, sizes, and use contrast to pretend I saw things. My life was like a huge mental puzzle that had hundreds of pieces, with someone adding new bits to the complex puzzle every minute. For me, everyday happenings were enormous difficulties that I patiently learned to deal with.
Take shopping, the average person loves to shop but I detest it – it is truly the nightmare of my life. It is basically a major chore. It’s right up there with pairing and folding socks. Searching for correct aisles, finding sizes, matching colors, styles, prices…oh my, just thinking about it makes me groan. Then after finally finding the right item, the nightmare gets worse if you have to pay with cash! Sad to say, some unscrupulous cashiers give back incorrect change, hoping the poorly sighted individual won’t notice.
After discussing with my doctor, Eleanor Faye, my pitiful money problems, she suggested folding my bills. Using my hands to feel the specific fold of each denomination would inform me which bill I handed the cashier. A five dollar bill had a left diagonal fold, a ten a right diagonal fold, a twenty dollar bill a horizontal fold and a one dollar bill remained unfolded. Until I started using this folding system, I was often handed back change for a lesser bill. But folding the money worked brilliantly! When given the wrong change, I’d say, “Oh I’m sorry, I believe I gave you a ten dollar bill not a five. If you look in your register, there’s a ten folded just like this one, would you like me to find it?” Immediately the cashier would say, “No, that’s fine,” and I’d be handed back the correct change. NEVER ONCE did the cashier check the money drawer. Kudos to you Dr. Faye!
Last, but not least, at the top of my “why I hate shopping” list is coping with difficult sales people who refuse to believe I can’t see. Often, because I didn’t look blind, or at that time unfortunately I didn’t use a cane, sales people neglected to help me find an item or tell me its price. There were many, many occasions B.C. (Before Cane) when I requested assistance finding something or to have a price read and I’d receive answers like:
“That’s in aisle number whatever…”
“Why don’t you just wear your glasses?”
“It’s right over there!” Or,
“The price is right there on the ticket! Put on your glasses.”
After telling one individual I was unable to read the price, he actually laughed and said, “Don’t tell me, you’re just like my wife, too vain to wear your glasses.”
Frequently, I‘d simply put the item back and leave. From youth, my mother would say: “YOU NEED TO BE MORE ASSERTIVE! JUST KEEP TELLING THEM YOU CAN’T SEE! Don’t let them do that to you! Speak up!”
Over and over my mother would defend me to sales people while encouraging me to stand up for myself.
Now that you have all the above seemingly useless information you will fully understand the shocking main point of this nightmarish, “There ARE two sides to every SKI BUTTON story!
While attending a New York ski show at Rockland Community College, I passed a long rectangular table where you could purchase ski buttons. The cute buttons were lined up neatly in straight rows, like little tin soldiers. Upon closer examination, I noticed around the outside of each button it read “I Love Skiing.” Yet, what made the button so adorable was the picture in the middle, there was a red heart with two skis going through it. An avid skier, I decided to buy a few buttons. Picking one up, I asked the salesman the cost. Sadly, I received a familiar response; he pointed to the sign with the price and walked away. I looked around to no avail for my friend, hoping she would read me the price and I’d be done with this guy. No chance. Standing in front of his table, I was alone with only my thoughts and the desire to walk away. Before I turned to leave, my mother’s words suddenly came to mind, “Be assertive and tell them you can’t see! Don’t let them do that to you!” At once I realized she was right. I needed to stand up for myself. “O.K. Mom,” I mused, “This one is for you.” Firmly planting my feet, I waited until he walked by, cleared my throat and said in a mild voice, “I’m sorry I can’t read that, I am visually impaired. Could you please tell me the price of this ski button? He picked up the price tag, laid it on the bridge of my nose, then put it down and walked away to help someone else. I could hardly believe it, this was absolutely the rudest sales person I’d EVER met. Quickly folding my arms in protest, I decided I wasn’t going anywhere until he came back.
As soon as I heard him come toward me I called out, “Excuse me! I STILL can NOT read it even that close. The print is much too small. Could you just tell me how much is the button?” Immediately he whipped around, pointed to a large poster board sign with the price and words in giant letters, and then disappeared as fast as he came.
Shocked at his insensitivity, I was more determined than ever to stand my ground.
Abruptly, I called him over and tersely repeated, “I know that sign is large print, but I still can’t see it over there. Now, just tell me how much the button is!!!?” With one hand he reached behind himself, picked up the poster, plopped it down directly in front of me right on top of all the buttons and took off again.
For the first time in my life I was SPEECHLESS! As I felt my cheeks become hot with embarrassment and anger, my blood pressure shot up and my frustration grew.
Thankfully, at that moment I was distracted by a man who suddenly appeared alongside me. He quickly grabbed a button, tossed a bill on the table and briskly walked away. At the risk of looking like a thief, I picked up the bill he had thrown on the table and closely examined it. After realizing it was a one dollar bill, I plucked another dollar from my pocket, threw both our bills on the table, grabbed my own button, turned in a huff and stomped away!
A few minutes later I found my friend in frustration I grumbled to her, “Sylvia, I’ve just met the rudest sales person EVER! All I wanted was to buy a ski button, but, I had to faceoff with the captain of RUDE! This salesman ABSOLUTELY takes the cake for being obstinate. He is the worst, most inconsiderate sales person I’ve EVER met in my entire life! He REFUSED to tell me the price of this button” and I went on to relate to her the rest of the story. When I finally took a breath and the steam had stopped shooting from my ears, Sylvia asked me where I bought the cute button. I pointed to the table at the end of the aisle. Sylvia stared at the table in silence then dropping her head to her chest, closing her eyes she shook her head slowly from side to side. In a few seconds, she opened her eyes again and turned to face me.
To my horror she softly moaned, “Janet, all the signs say, “WE ARE DEAF MUTES; COULD YOU PLEASE MAKE ANY DONATION TO OUR DEAF ASSOCIATION!”
My mouth dropped open, I was mortified!!! The first time I attempt to be REALLY assertive and MAKE the salesperson tell me how much an item is he turns out to be MUTE! Thanks Mom! So much for being assertive!!!
It seems reasonable to think he could probably read my lips and was equally frustrated. Throughout the years I’ve often laughed to myself, imagining him signing the story to his friends. “And the crazy blind girl kept saying, ‘JUST TELL ME HOW MUCH ARE THE SKI BUTTONS!!!!’
So now you see; there really are “TWO sides to every ski button story!”
