Once upon a time, I embarked on my first great independent adventure as a blind person. I set out to a bustling city in Florida, where I was to attend the National Federation of the Blind Convention. Other than the fact that the convention was going to be attended by over 2,500 blind people, I knew little else about what awaited me there. Yet, I quickly found that this journey would present me with delightful surprises, along with a few challenges. Ultimately, however, what I was about to experience there would shape my perspective forever.
Traveling to the event and arriving at the hotel
The trip started off smoothly enough. I passed through two airports, and reached my hotel without too much of a hassle (though I was overwhelmed when reaching its vast lobby). Finding the hotel’s front desk was my first victory, and I allowed myself an inward fist-pump. Yet, before I had too much time to bask in the glory of my achievement, I ran into my colleague, Mike Hingson, a seasoned attendee with a guide dog. His confidence navigating through the hotel amazed me; he moved with the ease of someone who had faced far greater challenges. "This is kid's stuff," he remarked nonchalantly, having once escaped the one of twin towers on 9/11 with his loyal companion, Roselle.
Anxiety tinged my excitement as I got ready to board the shuttle that would lead me to the event. However, standing at the shuttle depot, and seeing thousands of others like me embracing the conference eased my nerves.
The conference itself
The scene at the conference itself was a revelation. Everywhere, white cane users deftly employed the tap-tap technique, a rhythmic cadence that guided them through the crowds. I marveled at the polite chaos; constant apologies for accidental bumps and cane taps were uttered, yet no tempers flared. Even guide dogs joined in the socializing, their antics occasionally leading us astray.
Dining together with other conference attendees was a highlight. In a restaurant where everyone was blind or had low vision, no one was gazing at how I was eating. The staff's competence was awe-inspiring. They effortlessly read menus aloud, gracefully guided us through buffet lines, and swiftly brought us our orders, fostering a liberating sense of independence from prying eyes.
Meeting fellow attendees was like diving into a sea of stories. Each person had a tale to tell, each conversation brimmed with excitement and camaraderie. Even navigating the conference center by myself, from the elevators to the meeting rooms, felt like a triumph; a true test passed with a proud smile. I had my own personal life story to impart, as well as accessiBe’s. I had the privilege to present my role in the company, and what I do to help promote accessibility.
The conference buzzed with innovative accommodations. One cool example were people who called themselves “talking signs” but were actually helpful volunteers directing us to key locations. These small yet significant details made a world of difference, turning potential obstacles into manageable challenges.
In the exhibition hall, I discovered groundbreaking technology like Meta's smart glasses, a marvel of AI and accessibility. The promise of newfound independence through technology left me exhilarated, and I was able to envision a future where navigating the world would be more intuitive than ever before.
Of course, there were comical moments too — like the endless confusion over seating in the vast conference rooms, where every passerby seemed to tap my chair and inquire repeatedly about state sections repeatedly.
And, amidst all the excitement, there were moments of near-missteps and lessons learned, as well. From navigating bathrooms with identical layouts, to a heart-stopping moment in which I left my digital note taker behind (which was rescued heroically by a kind-hearted stranger), each challenge was met with resilience and, often, a touch of humor.
As the conference drew to a close, I found myself deeply moved by the NFB's mission and the dedication of its blind leadership. Their commitment to accessibility and empowerment was palpable, inspiring me to join their cause wholeheartedly.
Closing thoughts
In the end, my adventure to the NFB conference was not just about attending sessions or exploring technology; it was about discovering a community that embraces challenges with courage and camaraderie. It was about realizing that in a world of barriers, determination, and innovation can create pathways to boundless opportunities.
As I left with a heart full of memories and a newfound purpose, I knew one thing for certain:
The honey tastes sweeter when shared among friends; especially the kind who understood the journey, your journey, like no one else.