What? You didn’t see the Ohio School for the Blind (OSSB) Marching band leading the Outback Bowl Parade on New Year’s Eve? I didn’t, either.

I have an excuse,though: I can’t see!

I can tell you this, though: the world’s only blind marching band sure sounded fabulous, and if you missed it, don’t fret:you can see – and hear – highlights here.

Comprised of 7th through 12th graders from across the state of Ohio, the OSSB marching band not only marched in the parade but also performed with other high school bands during the halftime show on New Year’s Day.

Community volunteers act as marching assistants to guide the musicians while on and off the field. “They know their steps already,” a marching assistant named Sandy Wilson explained in a Bay News story about the OSSB marching band. “We just sort of help them make sure they stay in line.”

The Music Intstruction page on the Ohio State School for the Blind web site explains their emphasis on music:

Music is an essential part of the education at OSSB. Since most of our students have little to no vision, music takes on added significance as the most approachable art form in which they can participate.

All students at OSSB take music classes, and students learn to play by ear and read music Braille as well. Guests from the Artist in Residence program present lessons that expose the students to music of other countries, allowing educators to promote cultural diversity and tolerance. The emphasis of music at that school is obvious from their scheduling:

• Private lessons occur once a week
• Multiple students with disabilities have music three times a week
• Jr. High Students have music five times a week
• High School Choir meets five times a week
• High School Marching Band meets five times a week, holds a marching practice once a week during football season, and Participants must also attend a week long band camp during the summer

The blind marching band plays at area football games, performs as a pep band at the Ohio School for the Deaf basketball games, and travels to events in and outside of Ohio –they marched in the Rose Bowl parade a few years before appearing at this year’s Outback Bowl. A 14-year-old drummer in the band did a beautiful job expressing the importance of performances like these in that Bay News story: “Some people think that even though we’re blind that we’re not capable of performing,” she said. “I want them to be happy and amazed after our performance, I want them to think like, ‘wow, they really are the only blind band in the world and they can play music and they can do everything just like any other band.'”

Back in high school I was in the marching band.

I was in my high school marching band back when I was a teenager. I was a pretty gawky teen, never had a boyfriend, never went to prom. But I had a ball in the band, especially on bus rides to and from performances at other schools and in other states. Many of my closest friends today are kids I met in marching band, and I trust the same will be true for these kids from Ohio. March on!

Here’s a New Year’s resolution that’s a cinch to follow: vow to start using html code to identify images and graphics for users like me, who are unable to see them. Your reward? You’ll likely increase your SEO (Search Engine Optimization) scores as well.

Let me try to explain. Many of us who are visually-impaired or blind use screen readers on our computers and smartphones. When we visit a website, as long as you’ve used alt text, our screen readers will read the alt text out loud so we know what images you’ve used. Sites that don’t use alt text correctly (or don’t use it at all) risk leaving us, quite literally, in the dark.

Turns out we’re not the only ones who can’t see images on your website: search engines can’t “see” them, either. Adding alt text and, when possible, describing images in a way that includes a keyword you’re targeting, is a great SEO tactic.

I like to think of this alt text tactic as an example of accessible technology is like accessible design. Like to skateboard? Use luggage with wheels? When you take walks, are your kids in strollers? If so, you have the Americans with Disabilities Act to thank for requiring curb cuts.

The Americans with Disabilities Act also brings you closed captioning, which means bars, restaurants, health clubs and airport lobbies don’t have to crank the volume for people who want to keep up with news events, sports and weather.

So now, with this alt text idea, I can say accessible technology is for everyone trying to increase SEO scores. Who knew? Not me! But just like curb cuts and closed captioning, alt text provides unintentional benefits to people whether they have disabilities or not. I. Love. It.

A little research on all this led me to the Perkins School for the Blind’s Technology blog. I’ll say goodbye here with a recommendation that you read a post there to learn best practices when writing alt text. Then watch your SEO scores zoom upward as search engines – and people who are blind – can read them.

This Monday I take off for Morristown, New Jersey to spend three weeks training with a new Seeing Eye dog. A post we published here last month explained where my retired dog Whitney is living now, and today’s short post will clue you in on some of the details involved in getting 24 people who have visual impairments arrive at Newark International Airport on the same day from all over North America.

A few of the 24 of us will be training with their first ever Seeing Eye dog, but a majority will be like me: people who retired a guide dog recently and are returning to train with a new dog.

Translation: we are not very skilled with our white canes! To help you understand a bit about how this all works, I give you a bit of the official itinerary sent to me by the Seeing Eye.

Here is your confirmation for your flight on JANUARY 06, 2020. Please make sure that you arrive at the airport with your Government issued photo ID and go directly to the ticket counter for your boarding pass. We recommend you checking with the airline for the current baggage fee policy. You will be responsible for any baggage fee so packing lightly will be to your advantage.

Upon your arrival at Newark Airport you will be escorted by an airline representative to your baggage claim area, where a Seeing Eye Instructor will meet you and drive you to campus. Airline representatives who provide assistance often have wheelchairs with them, but remember you do not have to ride in a wheelchair unless you want to.

We ask that you turn on your cell phone and use the facilities prior to getting to the baggage carousel. There usually is some waiting time while collecting everyone.

Lori will be sending you a Seeing Eye luggage tag via USPS. Please attach that to your checked bag so it will be easily identifiable by the instructor that meets you.

Wish me luck!

Returning.

That’s the one word that describes my holidays this year. In a matter of days, I’ll be returning my Seeing Eye dog Whitney to the fabulous family who volunteered to raise her as a puppy. In January I’ll be returning to the Seeing Eye School in Morristown, New Jersey to train with a new dog. And in-between, my husband Mike and I will be returning to New Orleans, one of my favorite vacation destinations.

New Orleans is the only American city I know of where sight takes a back seat to the other senses. So I’ll be listening to live jazz in the streets, feeling damp, dense, warm air on my skin, and following my nose to green peppers and onions sautéing in butter. Oh! The food. Can you say crawfish etouffee? Jambalaya? Gumbo? Muffuletta?

And who knows? After Christmas, I may be returning gifts, too!

But why, you might ask, is my Seeing Eye dog going back to her puppy raisers? Good question. Whitney is healthy. She still enjoys visiting elementary schools with me, and still knows her lefts from her rights. But she’s ten years old now. Walks wear her out. Traveling outside our familiar neighborhood unnerves her. She loses focus.

Whitney has worked long and hard for me, and I don’t like forcing her to do something that makes her so uncomfortable. I love her. And if anyone deserves a happy carefree retirement, it’s Whitney the sensational Seeing Eye dog.

Plan A was for my great-niece in Minneapolis to adopt Whitney. Shelley already has an older dog named Wilson, but she is very fond of Whitney, too. That bond grew stronger when Shelley’s mother (my sister’s daughter, Lynne) died after a long illness. Whitney guided me through the airports to Minneapolis to be with Shelley and her sister Jamie during Lynne’s final days. At the hospital, Whitney was a comfort to all, even placing her head on the mattress so Lynne could reach her soft ears and get an occasional lick.

Since we spent our entire time at the hospital, Whitney never got to meet Shelley’s dog Wilson. A subsequent flight we arranged to introduce the dogs was canceled due to a thunderstorm.

And then I heard from the family who had raised Whitney as a puppy.

The Seeing Eye has a long-standing “closed adoption” sort of policy. They do not give our name or contact information to the volunteers who raise our Seeing Eye dogs for the first year. The school does send a graduation photo to the volunteer families once their puppy has been matched, and Whitney’s photo came with a letter saying Whitney had been given to an author in Chicago.

Whitney’s puppy raiser’s own Golden Retriever, Honey, was two years old when Whitney lived there. The two dogs ran, chased Frisbees, and even slept together. Honey had to be euthanized earlier this year after suffering renal failure. Grief over that loss got the family thinking about Whitney. They Googled “Chicago author Whitney,” and…voila! They found my blog and left a comment there offering to be a “Plan B” if things didn’t work out with Shelley.

You can probably guess the rest.

I called Shelley to tell her I’d heard from the Pennsylvania puppy raisers, that their family dog had died earlier this year, that they were just starting to look for a new dog to certify as a therapy dog to visit nursing homes and libraries.

Then came the hard part. “I’m thinking I might like to have Whitney retire with her puppy raisers,” I told my great-niece, my stomach twisting in worry over how she’d take this news. Her response was immediate. And surprising. “Do it!” she said, a smile in her voice. “I love Whitney, but I have Wilson, and there will be other dogs in my future. Right now, the puppy raisers need a dog to love.”

So off we go.
Mike and I will be returning ten-year-old Whitney to the loving people who raised her back in 2010. They’ve told us, “Getting Whitney back will be the best Christmas gift ever!”

And so, my holiday gifts came early this year. At first, I was very sad about having to say goodbye to Whitney. But that’s diminishing as I ponder how fortunate I am. This is a holiday to celebrate the human spirit – the love, understanding, and generosity that come with helping people we’ve never met.

Think about it: a family gives up an adorable puppy they’ve nurtured for months to assist an unknown someone who needs help. A kind great-niece gives up something she’d been hoping for, showing love, understanding, and empathy for a far-away family she’s never met. A husband has to say goodbye to a dog he loves, too, but he understands why: he wants “both of his girls to be safe.”

I have a lot to look forward to in the new year as well. People at the Seeing Eye are hard at work right now getting things ready for me to train for three weeks with a new, young, enthusiastic dog. Get ready, New Jersey. On January 6, 2020, I will be, yes…returning.

I spent last Sunday afternoon enveloped in holiday music. Not your everyday stuff – this was the Marcus Roberts Trio with the Chicago Philharmonic, playing holiday classics arranged by Duke Ellington. A Concerto written by George Gershwin. Holiday Jazz.

I love jazz, I’m especially fond of jazz piano, and ever since I heard an album of Marcus Roberts playing piano at a record store back in the 20th century, I’ve been a fan. I bought the CD and played it constantly. Years passed before a friend kindly pointed out to me that Marcus is blind.

He’s blind? Who knew?! Quirky fact: Without having sight, it’s hard to know if someone else can’t see, either. I liked Marcus Roberts even more now and bought more of his CDs.

About 15 years ago, Marcus Roberts did a weeklong artist-in-residence stint at a nearby college. The public was invited to come and listen and I stalked him at every workshop and performance he gave. Not an easy feat for a blind woman, but well worth the trouble.

Between tunes at the first workshop, Marcus told us what it was like to grow up blind, how he first learned to read Braille music, and the frustrations he faces when traveling to and from gigs.

“When our plane landed this morning, I stood up. The flight attendant brought in a wheelchair.” He paused for a moment. He was looking at us, I could tell. “I was STANDING. You with me?!” he finally continued. “I wonder, do they give white canes to dudes who need wheelchairs?”

I was spellbound. So, it seemed, was the rest of the audience. We all broke out in laughter.

Marcus went on to explain how he communicates to his trio during a performance without being able to see them. Drummer Jason Marsalis demonstrated the cadence he uses to cue a key change. Marcus showed us a pattern he plays on the upper register to cue bass player Roland Garrons for a solo. Afterward, we were encouraged to ask questions. I directed mine to Jason and Roland. “When Marcus approached you to play in his trio, did you hesitate at all?”

No answer.

“I mean, knowing there might be extra work involved, him being blind and all.”

They both stayed quiet for a while. Finally, Jason piped up. “In jazz, when you’re offered a gig, you take it.”

Roland asked to add something to that. He’d played with a lot of musicians over the years, he said, and a lot of them get lazy. “But with Marcus, he’s always coming up with something new. And when you play with Marcus, you really have to listen. I think we’re better for that.”

Amen.

Marcus and I had a chance to talk after a performance later that week. “Have you always talked about your blindness like that?” I asked him.

“Oh, man, no!” he answered. What a voice! “I used to do what so many other blind people do — pretend it doesn’t exist, it’s no bother.”

I nodded my head in agreement. You might think you have to be able to see to know if someone is nodding, but we know. “What made you decide to start talking about it, then?”

“About five or six years ago, I just thought, man, I deal with this every day. I might as well talk about it.”

What a relief it was to hear him talking so candidly about blindness. I’m a writer, and for years I’d been writing a book about losing my sight as an adult. Long Time, No See was in the midst of reviews and editing just then, due out in a couple months. “I’d like to read it,” Marcus said.

I got his address, contacted the college’s disability services office the next day, and they agreed to print a Braille version of the advanced copy. Marcus liked the book so well, he agreed to do a blurb for the cover.

So there you have it. My brush with fame. I haven’t spoken one-on-one with Marcus since then, but trust me. Last Sunday, his performance from that Chicago concert stage of Gershwin’s Concerto in F spoke to me. What a sensational way to start celebrating the holidays this year.