Earlier this year, I was asked by a friend, a film student who was looking for a subject to do a short film documentary if I would be willing to share my story on camera.  It was a fun few days in our house having cameras following us around as we tried to cary on as normally as possible.  The short film has recently taken first place in a film festival at the College of Southern Nevada, which means it can move forward and b entered into more festivals.  In order to do this, the two students must raise funds.  Here is a short trailer of the doc.  Would you, my readers, consider contributing the the Go Fund Me and helping get this into it’s next festival?

DONATE HERE!

Today is Friday.  In our house, Friday is cleaning day.  I sometimes wish I could pull off cleaning day the way Pippy Longstocking did.  How fun would it be if we could all strap on giant brushes onto our feet, squirt soap all over the place, dance around and sing, and in the next scene the house would be sparkling clean?

Between my husband and I, and our slightly OCD ways, our house is probably one of the cleanest houses in Southern Nevada.  I’m serious.  You can eat a meal off our floor, or even our patio surface almost any day of the week.

I like doing a thorough cleaning of the house on Fridays.  This way, we have the entire weekend free to play.  Fridays consists of laundry, sweeping, mopping, vacuuming, dusting, cleaning the bathrooms, and of course the usual daily chores of cleaning the kitchen and picking up after the kids.

Today, while I was sweeping, I had a thought.  I no longer despise sweeping.  For as long as I can remember, I have hated the simple task of sweeping.  Why?  I came to realize that I had let myself be controlled by the limiting belief that I couldn’t be any good at sweeping because I couldn’t see what I was sweeping. Where did this idea come from?  I’ll tell you, but before I do I just want to say that in no way is this me throwing blame on my mom or anyone else for something I took, and let take over a piece of me.

When I was ten years old, my parents bought a donut shop.  My sister, brother, and I grew up in this donut shop.  We helped keep the place clean, stocked, and helped out behind the register.  Something I didn’t do was sweep.  My parents never asked me to sweep.  In my mind, I formed the idea that because I couldn’t see what was on the floor, I couldn’t sweep.  I thus formed the opinion that I hated sweeping.  I would happily take on all other household chores, but leave sweeping to any and everyone else.

Fast forward to today.  My husband and I have been married for 8 years, and it wasn’t until recently that I actually stopped hated sweeping.  For years, like before, I would do all other chores around the house and leave the sweeping to him.  If I had to, I would do it of course.  Whether I could see or not, sweeping wasn’t the problem.  The problem was that I couldn’t break down the wall I built between me and sweeping.  I can sweep, mop, cook, and clean, all under a blindfold.  Why hadn’t I allowed myself to get over this wall?

That was it!  I hadn’t allowed myself to get over the wall.  I’d constructed the belief that I would never be any good at sweeping as a child.  the ten year old me wasn’t letting go of her insecurities.   Today, the 32 year old me, rocked out to Pandora Radio, dancing the entire time I was sweeping.  It wasn’t so bad.  I rather enjoyed it.  Whether you can see or not, you can feel what’s under your feet.  Whether you can see or not, if you keep a rhythm, sweep in smooth strokes, and cover all your bases, you can eat off of your floor too.

The first step to overcoming an obstacle,whatever it may be, is to first step back and take a good objective look at it without judgement or preconceived notions.  Tear it apart piece by piece, until you can identify the root source.  Once you’ve pin pointed the moment when that obstacle took power over you, you take the power back.  Throw away that tiny piece of you that has been holding you back, grasp the power tight, and dance on into tomorrow.  In my case, I can sweep it all behind me and dance the day way.

Who am I?  Do you know?

I’m got great rhythm, and I can really flow.

I am long, lean, and I like to take the lead.

I am confident, controlled, and I give you speed ..

I am savvy, sexy, slim, ans sleek.

With me in hand, you won’t feel weak.

I am studly, strong, and I strut tall.

No matter what obstacle, I’ll overcome them all.

I can dance, skate, and hike..

I’ve even been seen on a tandem bike.

I’ll take you down the street, to the mall.

I’ll take you up Mount Everest, and the Great Wall.

I have the right to go where ever you go.

I travel well, did you not know?

Tap me along, don’t leave me behind.

I promise, I’ll show you a really good time.

I’m the long white cane, and today is my day.

Let’s go celebrate!  Let’s go out and play!

Last week, I was awakened on Monday morning by the sound of a hard rainstorm outside the French doors of my bedroom.  The rain poured down hard and heavy.  I laid there inhaling the cold fresh air and knew this was it.  This was the rain to wash out the old and bring in the new.  This was the rain I had been waiting for for months.

Sipping my coffee under the patio that morning, I reflected on the past ten Octobers.  October has always been my favorite month of the year.  The weather cools down, pumpkin spice is everywhere, and each weekend is occupied with fun family events.  Ten Octobers ago, I took the first steps into my future as an independent blind woman when I was introduced to the National Federation of the Blind.  This October, is the start of a Braille rich future for my little girl.  This October marks the beginning of her fingertips taking her to worlds she never imagined.  This October was when she officially began Braille classes.

Tears are streaming down my cheeks as I am typing.  Last Tuesday was the IEP we’d all been waiting for.  With the cane issue being tabled from the last meeting, Marley not receiving any Braille instruction six weeks into the school year, and no answers in sight, we decided to pull Marley out of full day Kindergarten, putting her into the half day class for a better use of everyone’s time.  We’d decided to look for Braille elsewhere if she wasn’t going to get it in school.  Walking into the meeting room that Tuesday morning, I felt the anxiety disappear instantly as the crowd of educators greeted us.  The air, the energy, the body language, and the entire meeting was night and day different from the last one.  We left two and a half hours later with everything we wanted, and more.  Due to human clerical error Marley was overlooked and her case neglected.  From now on, she’ll be getting 45 minutes of Braille instruction a week.  The best part of it all is that she won’t be pulled out of class for it.  She gets to have her lessons after class.  She gets to continue using her long white cane.  Her new Kindergarten teacher is learning Braille right alongside Marley.  Her school principal is willing to do whatever he needs to to ensure that Marley gets the best possible education.

The first day of Marley’s Braille life officially began that Wednesday at 11:45am.  I sat i the school office waiting for Marley to be brought to me after her first Braille class.  I heard a cheerful voice call out mom and her arms squeezed around me with her work in her hand.  Her vision teacher was amazed at how much she already knew.  I had been working with Braille with Marley for some time now, but moms, you know how hard it is to teach your own child.  After arriving home, and feeding the kids their lunch, I found myself crying tears of joy into my own lunch.  If only I had been introduce to Braille at an early age.  If only she knew how hard her mommy struggled, and the reasons why I fight so hard to make sure she gets as many tools in her toolbox earlier than later.  Just days before, Marley had told me I was thee worst mommy ever because I was making her practice her Braille.  Now, she showing me her alphabet and name she wrote for her teacher.  She has a Braille sticker with the word, “Good,” on her shirt.  I cried into my salad as all the fear, anxiety, and frustration melted from my shoulders as a ring of golden keys appeared carrying with them a bright and beautiful future of endless rich possibilities.

The next few days flew by.  Jackson turned four Thursday morning by waking up in his brand new bunk bed.  Friday, we took the family to see a double feature at the drive in.  We threw a mattress pad, blankets, pillows, and packed up dinner to hang out in the back of our Honda pilot while watching Hotel Transylvania and Pan.  On our way home from the drive in, I received a text that the documentary about me had won best film and best cinematography in the film festival it was featured in that night.  Saturday, Marley and I gave a presentation about blindness to a girl scouts troop.  This made her want to join girl scouts even more.  Sunday, our family headed out for an afternoon of beep baseball hosted by the Nevada Blind Children Foundation.  Marley got to experience playing beep baseball for the first time, and I got the opportunity to talk with other parents of blind children.

Tonight, I sit typing away under the patio sipping my tea, and reflecting on how incredibly lucky I am.  I’m lucky to have a husband who has a job that allows me to stay at home with our children.  I’m lucky I have a supportive network of friends I can call on for anything.  I’m lucky that my parents did the best they could as new immigrants to this country, not knowing the language, not a dime to their name, and dealing with their daughter’s vision loss.  Most of all, I am lucky to have found the National Federation of the Blind, to be part of the movement that is changing what it means to be blind so that my daughter can live the life she wants.

I love stumbling on other interesting blogs, especially when they are blogs about blindness.  I’m not exactly sure how I came across Double Vision Blog.  Perhaps they commented on one of my posts, or I came across their page over someone’s Facebook newsfeed, but this blog has been in my reader for a few months now.

The other day, after returning home from presenting on the topic of loneliness and isolation in a class on not letting disabilities define you, I found this in my inbox.

This is an amazing video on vulnerability and courage.  Thank you Joy for sharing your story.  I too was a recent subject of a short film about my blindness.  My documentary will be appearing for it’s second time in a film festival next Friday.  double points on your excellent song selection.  “Fight Song,” is currently one of my favorites to run to.

Visit Double Vision Blog and watch the video below.

Once again Las Vegas schools have failed our children.  No!  No!  These situations are sadly more common than we realize.  We cannot allow for this blatant discrimination to continue.  Our children have a right to an education.

Kicking off October as National Meet the Blind Month by sharing one of my favorite posts.  Enjoy!

Source: Do’s and Don’ts to Remember When Meeting a Blind Person.

Dear Daughter,

Six years ago, we had no idea if you were going to be a girl or boy.  We did know you’d be named Marley though.  Thank goodness you came out a girl, because your grandma pronounces your name, “Molly.”  You brought us more joy than we could ever imagined.  We couldn’t wait to teach you all about the world.  The surprise was on us.  You were the one doing the teaching.  You taught us that you didn’t like to sleep at night.  You taught us that you preferred your food come back up than going down.  You taught us that children are born fearless, that it’s due to constant conditioning from adults that we learn fear.  You taught us that you love to run.  You taught us that you can eat an entire pack of bacon.  You taught us that you are mommy’s exact mini me.  Thank you for educating us.  Thank you for being our daughter and bringing us so much joy.  Whatever you do, don’t let anyone stop you from being you, shining big, and burning bright.

Happy Daughter’s day!!

Love,

Mommy

Dear Educators, Policy Makers, and Legislators,

Please answer me this.  If education is a right, than why must we always fight? We live in a nation that is supposed to be producing tomorrow’s leaders.  However, we live in a nation excluding 90% of a population.  We live in a nation denying the simplest of things like literacy to children.  Were you even aware that the system, your system, our system has such staggering statistics? What sort of a country, what sort of an educational system would allow 90% of their children to grow up to be one of the 70% of unemployed adults?

Newsflash! You are a living, breathing, contributing cog in that system. You are part of the problem. I, am a product of the broken system, and I vow to do whatever it takes to ensure that my daughter not follow in my footsteps.

Across the nation, 90% of all blind/visually empaired children are not being taught how to read and write Braille. Let’s zoom in and get a little bit closer to home. I was taught to use what vision I had. I was encouraged to read large print. I was not taught alternative techniques or Braille. I spent hundreds of thousands of hours bent over a magnifier with my nose practically touching the pages in my books. When it was time to read out loud in class, I would get skipped over, because I was too slow of a reader. I didn’t truly become literate until the age of 23, until I learned Braille.

My daughter is six weeks from turning 6. After a year long battle with the school district, Braille was finally placed into her IEP (individual education plan). We are in the middle of week 5 in Kindergarten, and she tells me that no one has shown up to teach her Braille. Meanwhile, she is bringing home work from school that is being traced over with a dark black marker so that she can trace it with a pencil. A pencil? She can barely see the lines made by a pencil!

Why does a nation that is supposed to be so great allow a broken system to persist? Why must it be a battle each and every step of the way? I refuse to accept this. I refuse to let my daughter grow up to a future where she is limited by low expectations,. My child deserves to have an endless array of adventures, adventures that start with her fingers in a book.  Adventures that she will one day experience in real life.

Please allow me to end this by asking you one last question. In a country that is supposed to be producing tomorrow’s leaders, why do you exclude an entire population from growing up into contributing members of society, and insist on holding them back only to continue sucking on Uncle Sam’s nipple?

Yours Truly,

Mama Rupp

Many have been wondering what has come of the cane discussion, whether Marley is to use a long white cane verses a shorter heavier cane.  Here’s a quick update for our fans.

After the Labor Day weekend was over, I did what I said I’d do.  I rallied the troops.  I spoke to friends, colleagues, and leaders in the blindness community seeking their advice.

Next, I emailed the supervisor of Vision Services for the school district informing her of what had happened, how we felt, and requesting that our daughter no longer work with the woman who’d so unprofessionally and rudely carried herself.  I then was told that my daughter would be assigned a new cane travel instructor.  However, the following week, Marley came home from school and told us that the same woman had been there making her use the rolling tip cane.  That was unacceptable!  This granted yet another email to the supervisor.  She cleared up the loose ends and miscommunication.  She will also be at all future IEP meetings.

Meanwhile, Marley still has yet to receive Braille instruction.  Each day she comes home, I ask her if anyone showed up to work with her with Braille, and everyday she says no.  Her Kindergarten teacher is tracing the lines on the papers and letters and numbers with a black marker, all so that Marley can see them to be able to trace over them with a pencil that she can barely see the lines of herself.

The IEP has been scheduled for October 1st.  We will be showing up prepared with an artillery of research supporting what we want.  Sadly, we are merely allotted half an hour to meet.  We’ll see where we go from there.

Thank you all for your support.