IMAGINE

by

Carl Jarvis

Imagine: You've just entered your office on what may well be the most
hectic, stressful day of your life. Suddenly you realize all of your
reference books, piles of paper-work and notes are covered with little
bumps. In fact, you discover there is not one single printed word to be
found. Every scrap of information necessary to do your job, is now in Braille.

Imagine: you rush back out of your office, wildly looking about, peering
into offices, staring over the shoulders of clerks. Everybody is calmly
doing their job, using Braille. Mysteriously they have learned the language
overnight. Only you, it seems, were overlooked. For some unknown reason,
you are permanently and totally Braille challenged.

Imagine: you dash for the door hoping the rest of the world has not gone
mad. It has. In the elevator, you're not sure which button to press for the
lobby. Someone has to help you. They stare at you as if you are stupid.
Pausing at the news stand, you are unable to tell one magazine from
another. You can't stand it, you need to go home and collect your thoughts.
But at the bus stop, there's no way of telling which coach is yours. You
back away, not wanting anyone to know, and you decide you'll call a cab. Of
course, you only brought bus fare and lunch money, not nearly enough for
the taxi. Remembering your bank card, you pull it out as you run back into
the lobby. There, at the access machine, you stop short. The card has
turned to Braille, and so have all of the instructions on the machine.
You'll have to call home and ask for help. Funny, you never paid much
attention to the telephone dial and now, in your growing state of
confusion, you don't recall which number goes where.
You are so alone, so frightened, you actually begin to weep.

Imagine: you have always seen yourself as a leader, a visionary, a
problem-solver. You will not run from this challenge. You shall succeed.
You have a large mortgage. Once you have recovered from the great shock,
you begin looking for ways to survive.

Imagine: you have finally made arrangements, through your employer, to hire
a Braille reader, a process so complex and painful you plan to patent it
and use it to torture Terrorists. Now you sit in your chair going quietly
mad listening to the drone of your reader's voice, taking hours of time to
cover what you once scanned in minutes, while others whip about you
efficiently communicating among themselves via Braille-FAX and E-B-mail.
You begin to feel the "ice" in isolation.

Imagine: you learn you are not alone. You are a member of a very small
minority of Braille-Challenged people. There is, in fact, a Brailleless
Culture; a history far too long and complex to discuss here. So, you become
a member of the, Brailleless Association of America. (BAA) At the BAA
meetings you find out about a number of small companies manufacturing
adaptive equipment which enables Brailleless persons to access all of the
Braille computers, FAX machines, Braille scanners and Braillers.

The expense is far more than you can afford, so you seek assistance from
your employer. Your request is turned down. There are no requirements that
your employer accommodate your disability.

Imagine: BAA, along with many other disability groups, battle in Congress
for the passage of a Bill, guaranteeing you equal treatment under the Law.
The bill passes and, despite subtle messages from your fiscal officer,
money is, "found" for your accommodation. After considerable time and
effort, the technician from the Department of Services for the Brailleless,
has you on-line. Now you are able to scan Braille text and convert the
little dots into letters, and through a very complex process, the Braille
display on your computer is transformed into print. Finally, you are again
up to speed, being your old efficient self, feeling good about your work.

Imagine: you are humming and smiling and cranking along in high gear.
Suddenly, a message flashes on your screen and drives terror through your
heart. New breakthroughs in technology have produced equipment so superior
to the ancient junk--at least four years old-- presently in use, that your
organization is upgrading the entire communications system.

The BAA, technicians have already informed you that your adaptive equipment
is not compatible with it. You go to the, "Powers-That-Be" in your
organization, and request a meeting to discuss this concern. You are told
that your fears are groundless. You will not be forgotten. Following this
meeting A rumor goes around hinting that you are trying to sabotage the new
system, and your associates begin to whisper behind your back. They want
the new system. It's far superior, more compact, ten times faster, and it's
cool looking. They are sick of your "whining and constant complaining". You
feel the "ice" settling in again.

Imagine: you have been forgotten. The new system is in place. Everybody
loves it. You've been told not to worry, someone will be around to do what
is necessary to put you back on-line. The "someone" they had in mind is the
same technician who told you the system would not work. Despite your
concerns, no one bothered to investigate before the equipment was
installed. Once again you sit, going quietly mad while your reader plows
line by line through the piles of Braille.

Imagine: you know you are close to losing your mind or your job--probably
both. You must find other employment, but you do not want your associates
to know you are finally beaten. You try to figure out a way to do a quiet
job search when all information is only accessible in Braille.

One day you hear that your State has developed a central information
center, called a, "kiosk". These information centers are being set up in
easily accessible locations. The plan is for these kiosks to make
government information and services available quickly and conveniently, to
the public. Sort of a "one stop shopping center". You learn that lists of
job openings are among the many services offered. This is perfect. This is
exactly what you need. you discover your town recently placed a kiosk in
the Mall. You go there on Saturday afternoon. There it stands, costing the
tax payers hundreds of thousands of dollars to create, but well worth it.
In its ultimate form, the kiosks will bring virtually all State services
right into your local neighborhood. You are thrilled as you step up to the
controls. An automated voice welcomes you and brags about the wonders of
this system. Breathlessly, you wait for your instructions... Then, the
Braille display appears.

Imagine: they are dragging you away, shrieking at the top of your voice.
Onlookers are amazed. They do not know how you managed to rip the iron
bench from the floor of the Mall. None of them dared to try to stop you as
you swung it over your head, again and again, smashing the kiosk into
pieces of broken plastic, glass and twisted metal. None of them understand
why you kept screaming the same words over and over.

"I pay taxes, too! I pay taxes, too! I pay taxes, too!......."

Imagine.


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