“Cathedral” in Actuality: Personal Encounters with Blind Students

By Emily Mott

It wasn't until my freshman year of college that I encountered visually impaired students for the first time. Despite my initial unease and lack of knowledge, a young adult culinary-focused program at the Blind Person's Center where I worked provided an epiphany about the stereotypes I held. Prior to the event, I was under the impression that visually impaired persons were unable to eat without assistance, constantly needed a paraprofessional by their side, and, almost disconcertingly, I believed that most of them couldn't attain a high quality of life.

However, when the day of the program arrived, my stereotypes were quickly dispelled. Not only were most of the students independent and autonomous, but they engaged me in conversation and shared their experiences and aspirations with warmth and humor. It was during one of these conversations that a seventeen-year-old girl openly shared her feelings about her father's changed behavior towards her since losing her sight. "He treats me so differently now," she said. "It's like he has to walk on eggshells around me." Her words stirred something within me, prompting an epiphany of the ableist mindset I had inadvertently internalized.

Consequently, when I first read "Cathedral," I felt a deep connection to the text. The narrative tells a story of blind and sighted men becoming unified when drawing a cathedral together. At the beginning of the anecdote, similar to me, the narrator holds harmful ideas and limited experience, but at the end of the narrative, he is able to see outside of himself and let go of his preconceived notions.

Just as the narrator states, before starting at my job, I had "never met, or personally known, anyone who was blind" (143). My life had been one of sheltered separateness, surrounded exclusively by individuals sharing similar backgrounds and experiences as mine. Therefore, my preconceived notions, only acquired from never knowing a blind person, were evident. Just as I assumed visually impaired students were reliant on paraprofessionals and unable to do everyday tasks, the narrator of the narrative states he believed "the blind moved slowly and never laughed" (141). Both notions, most likely influenced by the media and poor representation of non-able-bodied individuals, were proven to be extremely untrue at the commencement of our stories

l am additionally ashamed to admit that when I did finally meet a visually impaired person, l was overly captivated by their eating and walking habits. It was as if I were observing something entirely strange and unfamiliar, once more highlighting the sheltered qualities of my upbringing. This tendency reflects the narrator's fascination with the eating etiquette of Robert, the blind man in "Cathedral:"

I watched with admiration as he used his knife and fork on the meat. He'd cut two pieces of the meat, fork the meat into his mouth, and then go all out for the scalloped potatoes, the beans next, and then he'd tear off a hunk of buttered bread and eat that. He'd follow this up with a big drink of milk. It didn't seem to bother him to use his fingers once in a while, either (145).

This fascination, as depicted in the quote, was not only unwarranted, but also potentially harmful. When individuals encounter something unfamiliar, it can be difficult to resist the urge to stare. However, as demonstrated by Robert and many other visually impaired individuals, they are perfectly capable of serving themselves without assistance. Though I did not learn this until after some extensive research, sighted populations must know it is impolite and intrusive to watch and analyze their actions in such a manner.

Furthermore, I was able to connect my pessimism to the narrators. At first glance, I remember nodding my head when I read, "A blind man in my house was not something I looked forward to" (141). Similarly, in my life, I wanted to stick with the "clerical and data entry" part of my job without interacting with blind people - not out of hate, but out of lack of experience and cliche-ridden images. It wasn't until later in my life, that through meaningful conversations and shared experiences, I realized the harmfulness of attaching identity solely to disability.

Nonetheless, despite these two toxic and stereotype-ridden behaviors, when I talked to the aforementioned seventeen-year-old girl, I had a similar epiphany to that of the narrator. Just as he used the drawing of the cathedral to connect to a population outside of himself, I used the conversation with the girl to recognize the normalcy of blind persons and their simple desire to be acknowledged and accepted in society. Parallel to the narrator's description, "It was like nothing else in my life up to now" (150), I felt similarly, recognizing that my stereotypes about different populations were almost always untrue.

Moving forward, I am committed to fostering inclusivity and understanding in all aspects of my life. My journey at the Blind Person's Center where I work served as motivation for personal growth, challenging me to confront my biases and expand my worldview. As I continue to navigate the complexities of diversity and preconceived notions, I carry with me the lessons learned from my experiences, striving to create a more compassionate and inclusive society for all

Carver, Raymond. "Cathedral." Legacies: Fiction, Poetry, Drama, Nonfiction. Ed. Jan Ziotnik Schmidt and Lynne Crockett. 5th ed. Boston: Cengage Leaming Wadsworth, 2013. 141-150. Print.