Walking In Another’s Shoes

Many years ago in Michigan I was a member of the Battle Creek chapter of the Lions organization. We had an annual meeting where each of us was assigned a blind person in our community to bring as a guest to dinner at the hotel where we met.  Instead of bringing a guest I made arrangements with my blind buddy, Harold Rowley to participate in a little experiment. Harold had lost his sight when he was a very young child. 

We listed me under an assumed name. I glued on a mustache and wore dark glasses and Harold lent me a blind man’s cane.  Two members of our Lions club picked us up and a vice president at our local bank was my host for the evening.  I just watched Harold and copied his use of his cane and such.  Throughout the meal I struggled with my food. My host described the food on my plate.  My meat was already cut up for me at 12 o’clock as if my plate was the face of a clock. . Mashed potatoes were at 3 o’clock on my plate; carrots at 6. I discovered a roll at 9 o’clock. I located a water glass. Of course I could see all this but I kept reminding myself that I was blind.  I was introduced to some other members who I had known for years but I mumbled my way and soon we were back to Harold’s house and bid our hosts goodnight. My fake mustache and dark glasses had worked perfectly.  

I had been asked a few weeks earlier to give a little talk at our next noon meeting.  The title of my talk was “What comes next?”   

I arrived early for that noon meeting. It just happened that that bank Vice President who had been my host when I was disguised as Harold’s blind friend was in charge of the meeting. After lunch and some business he gave me a nice little introduction and I stood up and talked.

The title of my talk is  “What comes next?”  I did a few remarks, told a couple of  jokes and made some small talk as I put my false mustache on my lip, put on my dark glasses and produced the white cane.  As I showed it I tapped the banker on the shoulder and said, “Surprise!”  It took a few seconds, he stood up and said, “I’ll be darned!” or something like that, and I explained to the members what I had done. Several admitted they had even shook hands with me but no one had even a suspicion.  I explained that I wanted to experience that evening out event from the viewpoint of a guest.  What was it like going as a blind man? What sort of relationships might be built with that blind person?

I confessed that I had known Harold Rowley for years.  I’d talked with him at some writer’s meeting I had attended.  I’d meet him when he was walking around town and have a short conversation now and then.  I knew he lived alone just about 5 blocks from my home. 

I had never taken him home with me. Never invited him to dinner. After all, he was blind.

I had talked with Harold about his blind friends and he said that for some of those guests at that party it was a rare time indeed. Some actually stayed in their rooms at home.

I told those fellow Lions that this experiment had opened my eyes and given me a whole new point of view.  I said that I planned to spend more time with Harold. To invite him to other outings.  Maybe, as Lions, some of them might like to see if we might include other events with our new blind friends.

I didn’t change the world with that experiment but my pretending to be blind did change my viewpoint, my outlook. I did see how selfish and blind I had been to the opportunities that were there for all of us, especially as Lions, to open our eyes and our hearts and reach out to all of the Harolds in this world.