The Pilgrim Village

I've talked a lot about my daughter's teachers and how we're so grateful for what they do to help her be successful in the integrated school she attends.   By integrated, what I mean is she attends a standard year-round public school in our district.  Two schools in our county provide additional support for vision-impaired children.   Each child is assigned typically to the school closest in proximity to where they live.  We're about equidistant to both of the VI program schools, which is why my daughter's cab ride is so long—she's going half-way across the county to get to and from school each day.

My daughter's school is full of sighted children.  It's a large elementary school serving grades K-5.   At any given time, there are a handful of visually impaired students.   Out of the hundreds that attend, there are somewhere from five to eight VI students at any given time.   I've said to a lot of people, "there just aren't that many blind children" (thankfully).

By attending an integrated school,  my daughter learns the same things her sighted peers learn.   She's going through school doing everything everyone else is doing around her, only her teachers are making sure she has the materials in a format she can consume.   My daughter will spend her life surrounded by sighted people, and this integration is a good thing for her in many ways.   But providing my daughter with materials she can use her fingers to understand, takes work.

In comes one of our favorite teachers, Ms. B, who is my daughter's Braillist.   Ms. B is with my daughter throughout the day and is there to help when she needs it and to not be there when my daughter doesn't need help or is expected to figure things out on her own.   That's a fine line, and one all parents have as well.   No smothering, no doing it for the child, but being there when there is a need.

Ms. B. has a lot of work to do while the class is doing their daily educational activities.  She's translating books for my daughter to read and preparing materials for her that the class will be doing in the coming days and weeks.   Recently, the students did a unit on Pilgrims.   They had lots to read and questions to write about what they'd read.  For example, here's a map of how a typical Pilgrim village might be laid out:

My daughter can't see that page, so Ms. B made her a map and a key.   I posted something like this before, but it's such a good example of how my daughter can be successful if given the information in the right format. I think it bears repeating.

Here's the map, followed by the key.   Here are some things to note about what's on the pages that aren't listed for the sighted children, because they can see the detail in the picture and understand things easily on the map.   The white area is foam and is raised, so the family farm areas are obvious.   Next, she added black tape for the fences.  There are no trees or people in my daughter's map because they're not germane to the questions.   The green rectangles are a tactile sticker that feels a bit like sandpaper.   Ms. B. has a lot of options for things like the green sandpaper, yellow corrugated cardboard and purple felt she can use that will be discernable to my daughter.  For us, the green means garden, to my daughter, the rough area means gardens. 

My daughter probably took ten minutes to complete the worksheet and thought nothing about the work it took to help her be just as successful as the other students in her class could be with a single, mass-produced sheet of printed paper.   I love all the things Ms. B. makes just for my daughter.   I recycle a lot, but some things, like this one, I keep so I can show people how a blind child can learn just as well as a sighted child can if given the chance.

The Big Boy Update:  My son is nine-years-old today.   He woke up early, got dressed, and got everything ready for school in the hopes we'd allow him to watch Teen Titans Go on the Alexa Show while he ate breakfast.   It was his birthday, how could we say no? 

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter talks to my mother on her long cab ride home many days.   Recently, my mother asked her what she had done in school that day.   My daughter answered, "Let me go back in my mind a little bit to think about what I did."