Some Get It - Some Don't: What I Learned From Public Transit
Some get it. Some don’t. Granted, learning to navigate the public
transit systems around Atlanta can be difficult the first time for a sighted
person. For my newly developed super
power known as low vision, said public transit, becomes that much more
difficult. Still, this past week, I had
a goal – make it to my eye rehab appointment in Smyrna on public transit...by myself.
When you have lived your life with the freedom to get in
your car and drive wherever – whenever you want to, having a change in vision
can be like getting chained up on a leash.
Suddenly, your freedom is hindered.
It is not that I don’t want to accept help from others, it is about
freedom. Public transit systems become a means of reclaiming freedom –
independence can be returned. Some get
it. Some don’t.
It is not whether one has family and friends who can drive
you about. It is a matter of being able
to go wherever – whenever you want. I
found that sense of accomplishment on Tuesday.
I “got it” and so much more.
Along the journey, I was the recipient of acts of kindness
and I had the opportunity to return the favor to others. I saw Jesus in others, in strangers, and the
encouragement of friends. I also got to
discover my definition of a crowd had changed. Where my definition of a crowd used to be a
group of people shoulder to shoulder in numbers of the hundreds and thousands, crowds for me can be 10- 20 people!
But transportation was only part of the day. At Vision Rehabilitation Services, I
discovered an incredible group of people committed to helping people like me with
low vision and blindness. It was the
most empathetic environment, one that celebrated our victories with us and is
there to assist us overcome or cope with the next challenge.
I got to put my hands on magnifiers and technologies at no
charge to determine what might work best.
I had the chance to ask questions, not about treatments, but about
everyday; what do I have to look for with my vision? I learned that my vision does, in fact,
fatigue when I read over time even with assistance. My experiences of stepping on my cat, bumping
into door frames and desks, and losing balance on uneven terrain is to be
expected.
What I also need is the opportunity to make it on my
own. I have to adapt. I have to work on new habits that will
benefit me long term. I will welcome
your offer to help but I do not need you to assume I need help and step in. Ask
me first. If you have offered, please
understand, I am not turning away from help when I choose to do things on my
own. I do it on my own because I can and,
for my own self-esteem, I need to do it, I must do it, and I will do it.