Growing up as a blind child, I remember small but significant moments. To some, these things might not seem important—but looking back, these simple experiences helped shape my social skills and contributed to my success in life and at work.
I remember always wanting to fit in and be like my sighted peers. My mom and my Teacher for Students with Visual Impairments (TVI) supported that goal. While some social goals were included in my Individualized Education Program (IEP) at school, many learning moments occurred spontaneously and naturally as part of everyday life.
Positive Posture
Lacking the motivation to attend to things I couldn’t see visually, I often sat with my head down. I grew weary of the repeated reminders—”Chin up!”—interrupting my concentration during conversations or tasks.
My mom came up with a novel idea that helped break my habit of sitting with my chin down: she offered to pay my friends a quarter every time they reminded me to lift my head. I was, of course, mortified—and I didn’t want my friends making money off me! I dedicated time and energy to breaking the habit. I became more aware of how everyone else sat, with their heads up, not with their chins to their chests.
Editor’s Note: While this story reflects the author’s personal experience, the American Printing House for the Blind’s ConnectCenter does not endorse using peer payment or similar methods. Readers are encouraged to choose positive strategies that work best for their situation.
Facial Expressions and Body Language Matter
In fifth grade, a cute boy moved into our class. Like everyone else, I hoped he would talk to me. One day, he asked, “Why don’t you smile?”
The question puzzled me. As a child who was blind, I missed out on seeing smiles—those expressions of approval, appreciation, happiness, and agreement. You can bet that from that day forward, I made sure to smile, especially when greeting someone. First impressions are important!
When I was in eighth grade English class, I had a phenomenal teacher. She would diagram sentences with dry spaghetti so I could experience tactile feedback. One day, she paused our lesson and explained that when people talk to each other, they typically maintain eye contact—or at least look in the direction of the person they are speaking to. Sure enough, if I listened carefully, I could hear where voices were coming from and tell when people were facing each other while speaking. From that point on, I made an effort to face people—or orient myself in their direction—while interacting.
Bathroom Tactics and Unexpected Lessons
As a young adult, I dreaded using public bathrooms—not because of inaccessibility, but because I disliked having to feel around for the flush handle or button. No matter how cautious I was, I always seemed to touch things I didn’t want to. I was relieved to learn that many people simply kick their right foot back and flush with their foot. Of course, automatic flushers are a fantastic invention. However, that foot-flushing trick made such an impression on me that I submitted it to APH’s Fred’s Head Database—a now-retired resource for blind and low-vision individuals to share tips and tricks.
Table Talk!
One evening in graduate school, I narrowly avoided humiliation during dinner when a classmate asked, “Why do you hold your spoon like a toddler?” They were referring to the way I grasped the spoon—with a fist, rather than the more standard grip.
Because I hadn’t learned this skill through visual observation, like sighted children often do, I still used a grasp more suited to toddlers. I asked how to properly hold a spoon and was told it’s more like a pencil grip—held between your thumb and pointer finger, with the middle finger resting on top.
Now, when eating something like mashed potatoes, I hold the spoon near the end of the handle where I find a good balance. For soup or liquid foods, I “choke up” on the handle—holding it closer to the bowl of the spoon for better control. To this day, I make a conscious effort to use my eating utensils correctly.
In Conclusion
I always welcome input from others and believe social learning is a lifelong process. Even as a client of Vocational Rehabilitation, some of my Individual Plans for Employment (IPEs) included hours for personal adjustment training, also known as daily living skills.
Over the years, I’ve gathered and integrated these little lessons into my daily routine. These skills now feel natural and give me confidence—whether I’m meeting friends, interviewing for a job, or promoting disability awareness.
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