My Story: Interviews with people who are blind or have low vision

No two people experience vision loss in the same way. Many feel sadness, grief, anger, and other powerful emotions. Vision loss inevitably results in lifestyle changes and has an impact upon the lives of family and friends. Each person dealing with vision loss is unique; each has a compelling story to tell. (See our other My Story interviews.)

Meet Anisio Correia, Vice-President for Programs at the Center for the Visually Impaired in Atlanta, Georgia.

Anisio Correia, Vice-President for Programs at the Center for the Visually Impaired in Atlanta, Georgia

"One of my current and ongoing frustrations is that employment is still so difficult for people with vision loss. We've come a long way in terms of education, vocational training, technology, and adaptations, and many new job opportunities have opened up, but the percentage of unemployed of visually impaired individuals remains at a dismal 70-80%. There's been no apparent change since I entered this field 35 years ago."

Growing Up in Portugal

When I consider the influences on my life, my first thought is about growing up in Portugal. I became blind at the age of three. At that time - in the 1950s - there were few, if any, services for visually impaired people, especially young children. This had a tremendous impact on me.

I come from a close-knit and caring family and am one of seven children. Three of us were only one year apart, and I was the youngest. When each of my siblings turned six, they started school. I remember thinking that it would soon be my turn to go. But it didn't happen. My sixth birthday came and went.

The closest school for blind children was a residential school 250 miles away in Lisbon. My parents didn't think that was a good option. I remained at home, felt very left out of things, and raised a big fuss! I suppose that was when my self-advocacy kicked in, and it's been with me ever since.

Discovering the School for the Blind

When I was 10, my parents discovered there was a school for blind kids only 15 miles away from our home. (Obviously, this was long before Google.) My parents enrolled me and off I went. It was a residential school and I'd come home on weekends. That was the best thing that could have happened to me.

The two teachers I had in first grade were totally blind. I was shocked at first, because I had never met another blind person before. They were both male, married with children, and became my first role models and mentors.

Although my family was always positive about me and my progress, I remained fearful that my parents would take me out of school -- because for most of my time there, I didn't eat. The food was terrible! When I was home on weekends, I never mentioned the awful food and would compensate by overeating.

The school offered good academic skills, but did not offer instruction in orientation and mobility or independent living skills. Nevertheless, I felt independent; so independent, in fact, that I convinced myself I didn't need a cane for mobility.

Despite these academic gaps, the school was a wonderful experience and I stayed there for five years. But as independent as I thought myself to be, I really wasn't.

Transitioning to a Local School

The usual length of stay for all kids at this school was six years and I did it in five. After completing school, most of the kids returned to their homes and their schooling ended at that point. I wanted to continue school, but I wanted to go to a regular school, the same one my brothers and sisters attended. This was in 1966.

The local school wouldn't accept me at first, so my father approached the national Minister of Education to get permission for me to attend. He succeeded, but the school was not ready to educate a blind child. The teachers hadn't the slightest idea about what to do with me.

As I recall, my teachers wanted me to take all of my examinations orally, instead of recording my answers in written format, but I didn't want that. I wanted to be able to take my exams in writing, the same as all the other students. I was adamant about not receiving any special treatment. We fought for that, and we won!

The solution we agreed upon was this one: Immediately prior to an exam, I met with my teacher, who would dictate the exam questions to me as I transcribed them into braille. I would then use my good old manual typewriter to record my answers during the actual exam period.

My mother (who was also a teacher) didn't always know what to do, but was always supportive of me. To be fair, I was the first blind person at that school, and to this day I'm told there are some of my former teachers who still remember me -- and we'll leave it at that!

Learning Daily Living Skills

Also, as a male in the 1960s, I wasn't interested in learning activities of daily living at a rehabilitation center. The at-home independent living I learned was from my mother who taught me and my siblings, from an early age, how to take care of ourselves.

A braille cell forming the letter "z"

At that time, we also had a live-in maid who reinforced my daily living skills. She was a very special lady. During those early years, because I didn't have access to the braille books I needed, she would dictate them to me phonetically (she had a third-grade education) and I would braille all of my books with a slate and stylus. We developed a great system that included brailling my English, French, German, and Latin textbooks. That was real teamwork!

A Major Change: His Family Moves to the United States - and Anisio Remains Behind

When I was 15, my parents moved to the United States. My self-advocacy kicked in once again, and I convinced them to let me stay behind in Portugal. I feared I'd once again end up in a specialized school for the blind, since I'd only had one year of high school English at that time.

I persuaded them that it was okay to go without me, so my entire family, including all of my brothers and sisters, left for America. I lived with a cousin and our maid. A friend and schoolmate took my brother's place and walked me to and from school every day. It was a difficult time for everyone.

Toward the end of high school, I decided that I wanted to study English and German in college. I applied to the University of Lisbon and was accepted. I was now truly on my own. There was nobody to guide me or work with me.

I found a family that offered room and board for students. I also contacted the local rehabilitation center and asked them to teach me to how to use a cane for mobility. They advised me to take a six-month break from college to receive training at the rehabilitation center.

Since I didn't feel I could afford that much time away from my studies, my family supported me and paid a teacher to provide private orientation and mobility training. He was a wonderful instructor; I learned everything I know in terms of independent travel and self-reliance from him.   

When I went to Lisbon, it was also the first time I had access to braille books, many of which came from the Royal National Institute of Blind People in London and an institution in East Germany. I was in Lisbon between the ages of 20 and 23, but every summer and Christmas I would visit my family in Danbury, Connecticut, and later at their home in Florida.

Florida Beckons

One summer when I was in Florida, my parents arranged for a vocational counselor from the Florida Division of Blind Services to come to the house to meet me. He told me about the opportunities here in the States and how I could get any book in the accessible formats I needed from Recording for the Blind & Dyslexic, the National Library Service for the Blind and Physically Handicapped, and other resources.

I was stubborn as usual and told the counselor I wanted to finish my undergraduate degree in Lisbon. After that, perhaps I would come to the States to pursue my field of studies in Germanic Philology and work as a college professor.

I finally came to the States when I was 24. I thought I'd get a green card quickly, but it took 1½ years before the paperwork came through. I'd reconnected with my Florida vocational counselor and he advised me to enroll in the residential program at the Florida Rehabilitation Center for the Blind while I was waiting.

Somewhat reluctantly, I enrolled there. I felt I was already pretty proficient in independent living skills, but I also learned cooking and safety techniques at the Center. My communication, braille and English skills were also pretty good, and after four weeks or so, I felt I'd learned enough!

I convinced the staff to let me start volunteering and teaching. This was a great time in my life; I was able to develop friendships and, with my improved mobility skills, was able to venture on my own into town. I really got to know the community and, for the first time, truly experience independence.

The five months I spent at the Florida Rehabilitation Center represented my first real exposure to "blind rehabilitation." In addition to instilling a great deal of confidence in my own skills, this experience showed me that I actually enjoyed imparting that same feeling of confidence to others.

Shortly after this experience, an opening came up at the Miami Lighthouse for the Blind and Visually Impaired. Because I spoke Spanish and knew braille, I applied for the position and was hired as a braille instructor. The Executive Director of the Miami Lighthouse at that time was Vernon Metcalf, a true innovator and a great believer in services for older persons experiencing vision loss.

Through Vernon, I learned about the Vision Rehabilitation Therapy Master's Program (now discontinued) at the University of Arkansas at Little Rock. I applied to the program and was accepted. With his help, I became the first recipient of a scholarship from the local Lions Club.

While at the university in the late 1970s, I remember attending presentations and meeting future mentors who gave me much food for thought. At a conference on aging and vision loss, I met Dr. Douglas Inkster who spoke about the need for, and benefits of, bringing together the fields of aging and vision impairment.

Anne Yeadon also visited my university program and talked to us about the concept of self-help and vision loss support groups, which also gave me lots of food for thought. Anne's book, Toward Independence: The Use of Instructional Objectives in Teaching Daily Living Skills to the Blind, was one of my required books at the university, along with other teaching and self-study manuals published by the Center for Independent Living (CIL) Publication Series. (Please note: "Toward Independence" is currently out of print.)

Life in New York City

I decided then and there that the Center for Independent Living (CIL) in New York City (now known as VISIONS/Services for the Blind and Visually Impaired), where both Dr. Inkster and Anne Yeadon worked, was the place I wanted to do my internship! So instead of returning to Florida, I headed for "The Big Apple." After completing my internship, I was offered a position at CIL as a Rehabilitation Teacher (now known as a Vision Rehabilitation Therapist, or VRT) and I happily accepted!

This period in New York was truly a renaissance in my life. For the first time, I felt like a totally independent person. I traveled in New York's five boroughs on my own, spending time in Greenwich Village, attending the theatre, trying new restaurants, and strolling in Central Park. I also made new and lasting relationships, such as meeting Agnes, the beautiful woman who would later become my wife.

Anisio Correia with his wife Agnes (left) and daughter Julia (center)

While working at CIL, I returned to graduate school once again. This time, I pursued a master's degree in Public Administration to acquire the tools that would help me respond to my increasing supervisory and management responsibilities.

Professional Development and a Number of Challenges

I've had a number of professional challenges in my career. One of the first was in the early 1980s, when I was appointed coordinator of the new Paraprofessional Education Program at CIL, designed to train Rehabilitation Teacher Assistants (RTAs). This concept was a tough sell to my professional colleagues at the time.

Many of my colleagues viewed paraprofessionals as a threat to their own jobs and believed that the introduction of paraprofessionals would undermine the integrity and quality of professional service delivery. I was convinced that the introduction of RTAs would, in fact, ultimately elevate the role and status of the Rehabilitation Teaching profession. This experience taught me that once in a while there are benefits to promoting an unpopular issue and learning how to persuade and motivate others to come along.

Dr. Inkster and Anne Yeadon were probably the two people who had the most influence on my career, not only in the opportunities they provided, but also in teaching me how to motivate people and adopt a participatory management approach.

After leaving CIL/VISIONS in the late 1980s, I joined Helen Keller International. It was an extremely empowering experience to work with colleagues in other countries, such as Haiti, Antigua, Dominican Republic, and Peru. I felt humbled by the fact that so many local people had come up with their own ingenious ways of providing services, very often with minimal resources. It was a privilege to partner with them -- and to learn from them. The three weeks I spent with local workers in Haiti was probably one of the highlights of my career.

Following Helen Keller International, my work led me to senior executive positions at Associated Services for the Blind in Philadelphia, The Iris Network, in Portland, Maine, and my current position as Vice-President for Programs at the Center for the Visually Impaired (CVI) in Atlanta, Georgia.

Employment Challenges

One of my current and ongoing frustrations is that employment is still so difficult for people with vision loss. We've come a long way in terms of education, vocational training, technology, and adaptations, and many new job opportunities have opened up, but the percentage of unemployed visually impaired individuals remains at a dismal 70-80%. There's been no apparent change since I entered this field 35 years ago!

At present, our country is going through a difficult recession and we get upset by a 10% unemployment rate. Admittedly, this is twice as high as normal and it should be of concern to all of us, but it's still a lot better than the unemployment rate experienced by people who are blind or visually impaired.

The key problem is, I think, that despite the many improvements we've made in terms of training and technology, we've been largely unsuccessful in changing overall attitudes.

In my position at the Center for the Visually Impaired, I now have an opportunity to promote the development of programs and services that empower children and adults who are blind and their families. Through instruction in pre-vocational skills and the development of specific job training programs, such as contact center operations, we aim to significantly increase employment opportunities for our clients.

Our ongoing work with the Georgia Department of Labor's Vocational Rehabilitation Program, local employers, and other entities will ultimately open more doors in the community and expand employment options for adults with vision loss.

Public Transportation Challenges

In addition, I think we workers in the field of vision rehabilitation have become too "soft" in terms of not really pushing those we serve to succeed and to be as good as they could be. In my own personal life, rightly or wrongly, I always felt that I needed to be better than my sighted peers. Because I was blind, I had to bring more to the table. I don't think we instill that sense enough in our clients.

One of the reasons I moved to Atlanta from Maine was because of limited public transportation options in Portland and throughout the state. I was so tired of not being able to get around on my own and of having to depend on others for my transportation needs.  

In my current job in Atlanta, I am again able to use regular public transportation, but I know that some blind people choose not to do this. Because of the Americans with Disabilities Act, we now have access to door-to-door transportation systems for those who cannot use regular transportation. Because I'm blind, I could use this system. It's true there are people who greatly benefit from this form of transportation, but, in my opinion, others use it who don't need to.

Again, I think part of the problem is that we professionals and adult mentors have not always been good at showing people what some of the drawbacks may be by using such systems. In my mind, it gives others, and yourself, a message that is not so positive -- a message of requiring more dependence than may be necessary.

Professional Challenges

Another frustration of mine is that the profession of Vision Rehabilitation Therapy (VRT) has not grown professionally. We have stagnated and we continue to complain about lack of university training programs and being unable to hire qualified VRT staff.

I believe it's time to be much more inclusive with professionals from related fields. We need to look at what related professions are doing in the medical field and see them as opportunities rather than threats.

The field of occupational therapy (OT), for example, is probably the closest to Vision Rehabilitation Therapy. Medical reimbursement has led to many OTs receiving additional training to enter our field and this is positive, I believe. Training in low vision is now being provided in OT programs, and with a national professional group of over 80,000, this is all to the good and can only add to increasing opportunities for clients who are living with low vision.

It's also revealing to read health care and rehabilitation-related journals, where most of the low vision literature is being written by occupational therapists, optometrists, and ophthalmologists. The field of vision rehabilitation is changing, but we have much more to do in order to increase its practical application and visibility, along with changing attitudes.

I'm deeply committed to the concepts of self-help and self-study and to increasing access to information on vision rehabilitation, providing opportunities to maximize the power of people to help each other, learn from each other, and support each other through different stages of living with vision loss. This conviction was the driving force in my cofounding of Associates for World Action in Rehabilitation and Education (AWARE) more than twenty years ago.

AWARE has created opportunities to train health care and social service personnel in numerous facilities across the country; developed a wide range of self-help materials; implemented the first university training program in orientation and mobility and vision rehabilitation in Eastern Europe with our partners the Academy of Special Education in Warsaw; and reached a broad constituency through AWARE's popular web site VisionAWARE.org.

The Challenges That Remain

Anisio Correia and his braille note taking device

For many years, I used to say that my main challenges were lack of adequate transportation and limited access to information. Transportation certainly still poses some challenges, since I cannot yet drive a car – although that day may no longer be a total impossibility.

However, with the technology advances of the last 20 years, access to information is no longer a barrier. With the advent of the Internet, blind people can now access the same sources of information as anyone else, whether it be conducting research for a school assignment, learning more about medical symptoms as they raise a young child, keeping up with current events by accessing online newspapers and magazines, or searching the classified ads in a local newspaper.

Long gone are the days when I needed to sit down with a personal reader to go over my mail, pay my bills, and read reports written by my staff.  All of these tasks can now be accomplished independently, when and where I choose: in my office, at Starbucks or other establishments with Wi-Fi, and using my data-connected accessible PDA/cell phone. 

Of course, all successes also engender new challenges. While all this is possible, many people who are blind are not able to acquire these technologies since they are still so expensive. Without them, however, they are less able to access information, learn about employment opportunities, and experience the sense of empowerment and independence that overall access to information can provide.

Hence, this continuing cycle of unemployment/underemployment is something we need to break in order to make the lasting difference all of us wanted to make when we joined this rewarding field of vision rehabilitation.

Where you can find Anisio Correia online:

• The Center for the Visually Impaired
• On Twitter @CVIGA
• On Twitter @AnisioCorreia
• On Facebook

Here are some additional links to help readers locate more information about blindness, vision loss, self-help, and employment information:

• Find state and local vision rehabilitation services
• Employment for adults with vision loss
• What are vision rehabilitation services?
• Independent living at home with vision loss
• Indoor and outdoor travel skills
• Vision loss support groups