Are You Blind?

"Are You Blind?"

By Christine Exley, PhD
Associate Professor of Economics, University of Michigan

I find it difficult to explain my eyesight to people. I have retinitis pigmentosa (RP), which is a condition that progressively causes vision loss. I am legally blind, my peripheral vision is very limited, and most of what I see is blurry.  Depending on the lighting conditions, I cannot see anything at all. 

So, I struggled to answer when a man, at the airport, approached me and asked me: “Are you blind?”   His question strongly suggested that he was trying to reconcile two facts: he saw me with a white cane, and he suspected I could see.  

I didn’t want to say “yes” in response to his question.  How about if he pushed back by stating he could tell that I could see?

I didn’t want to say “no” in response to his question either. How about if he then chided me (incorrectly) for using a white cane?

I also didn’t want to call out this person for his question. Don’t get me wrong. I didn’t appreciate this question. I had already taken steps to avoid such questions or even offers of help. I had my earbuds in, even though I was not listening to anything. I didn’t want to call out this person for his question because I suspected that he desired to help in some way.  I really appreciate that desire, and I often struggle myself to know how to offer help.    

So, how should I have responded?  I didn’t have 10 minutes to think through the pros and cons.  I landed on “I am legally blind,” tried to smile, and then kept on walking.  As I walked away, I wondered if I could have responded in some kinder way. 

I suppose I could have said “partially blind” or “mostly blind,” but those answers also could have led to more questions. I know saying that I had retinitis pigmentosa would just leave him confused, and I didn’t feel inclined to explain my medical history to this person at that moment in time.

Looking ahead to future travels, what can I do next time?  I think about this before every trip. 

Sometimes, I choose to travel without my white cane.  My vision is still at the point where I can, mostly, manage traveling without a cane in places I know well.

Without my cane, the TSA agents seem less confused. 

Without my cane, I am not self-conscious about what people think when they see the “blind woman” reading on her laptop (very large font allows me to manage in some cases). 

Without my cane, I don’t fear what people think when they see me holding my daughter’s hand. 

But, on a practical side, my ability to “hide” my disability is declining over time.  Not using my cane also comes with clear costs. I accidentally bump people, and people accidentally bump me. I run into some oddly placed polls and trashcans. It’s not fun. 

From a societal perspective, I feel guilty for even desiring to hide my disability when traveling. I would like to lean-in and help decrease the stigma around disability.   

But, I also know—as an economist with research that centers on stigma and as a disabled woman—there is no right way to answer questions about your vision.

When it comes to explanations around being blind, visually impaired, or your expected vision loss, there is no right choice as to whom to tell, when to tell, or how to tell.  There is no right way as to how to navigate the world: always with, sometimes with, or never with a cane, guide dog, help from technology, personal assistance, and so forth. There is no perfect set of accommodations that make the inaccessible world accessible. There can be approaches that sometimes help and other times backfire. No matter what, it is almost certain that people will think you should behave or think differently.  No matter what, you may wonder if you should behave or think differently. 

What I hope to highlight, in the articles in this series and in the stories that you share, are the tradeoffs.  By showing how there is no “right way” to be blind or to experience vision loss, I hope we can foster more empathy and understanding.  

Related, for those who want to kindly offer help but recognize the many nuances that can be involved, I personally recommend asking: “Is there anything I can do to help?”  Some of my best travel experiences have come when fellow travelers kindly and simply offer such help.  Many times, I do appreciate and need the help; people point me in the direction of the uber pickup at a new airport or select the right button the elevator.  And, even when I do not need help, this simple and kind question allows me to simply and kindly respond “No, thanks so much.”