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Brenda

Brenda was assigned to me while I was doing an internship at an agency providing a wide range of services to the handicapped. She was legally blind and was sent to the agency by the state bureau of vocational rehabilitation to prepare to become a touch typist.

The records in her file revealed that Brenda carried a B+ average in high school despite the failure of the school to provide her with accessibility or any of the variety of supports that are now required. Brenda was not active in extra curricular activities, however, she did paint and play the guitar. She was an articulate and energetic teenager.

During our first session we discussed school. Brenda did not like school. Some of the students made fun of her because she had to ware thick glasses that resembled the bottoms of coke bottles. She claimed that her classmates were too dumb for her to feel insulted by their comments. They were "dolts." But in the end she had none of the companions that make teen age life fun.

The agency continued to process her and develop plans for her training as a touch typist. As part of my internship training I was expected to make a home visit. During the first home visit I met with Brenda and her mother. They did not realize that the agency had decided to prepare Brenda to be a touch typist.  They had come to the agency expecting a range of options to be explored.  A career in touch typing was not an option for them. In short they both wanted college for Brenda.

My next supervisory session did not go well.  I had not sold the agency plan. Half way through the session I had that sinking feeling in my gut. My supervisor started a lengthy psychiatric analysis of the situation. She told me that I was over identifying with Brenda. Just because Brenda painted and played the guitar like I did, did not mean that she was college material. In summary, if the family wanted Brenda to go to college they would have applied. I had to admit that Brenda had not applied to any colleges.

It was Friday night the weekend.  But I could not think of the weekend.  All I could do on the drive home to Ann Arbor was lick my wounds.  Goffman's words about the helper being a double agent bounced around my thoughts.   Instead the freedom of the weekend my eyes welled up and a painful lump of tears grew behind my nose.  I began to see Brenda.  What courage it must take to get up each day and navigate a dimly lit world.  A world that was often unfriendly. She was just a teenager.  She seemed unaware of her heavy burden.  In spite of all the burden Brenda was in the school's academic track and had a B+ average. Why would college be unrealistic? In some states all students who had a B+ average were accepted into a state college.   Why had I let her down in my supervisory conference?

My classes in grad school had blind students. One of them Jean had a Airedale guide dog Randy who came to class with her as well as a cane. I always figured that the cane was needed because Randy had been ruined by the attention lavished on him in class.  At the time I was not aware of the progress made at the U of M admitting and graduating students with "handicaps." I thought about discussing Brenda with Jean. Without the cane and guide dog one would not have known that Jean was different from the other students.

One mourning on my way to class I noticed Jean at the other end of the hall walking toward me. As I tried to greet her I knocked over one of those round ash cans. The noise and the contents rolled across the hall. Jean made a quick comment and offered to help me get to class so there would be no further damage to the school. Without my mentioning it she had answered my questions about Brenda.

I decided to arrange another home visit with Brenda and her family. This was easy as the school liked home visits. My supervisor saw the second home visit as a chance for me to redeem myself. I saw the visit as a chance to find out more about the college issue from the family. Brenda's dad was a truck driver and couldn't be at the home visit. My supervisor had told me not to expect him to be present as truck drivers really did not want to be part of the family. I was pressured to force the issue with the father being at the visit.

I arranged a visit on the way home to Ann Arbor.  Brenda's mother did provide more information about education issue.  The family had moved from Kentucky for Brenda. They wanted her to have a good education. Her mother said that in Kentucky all blind people could do is sit on the front porch and receive a dole. That was their life. Not good enough for Brenda. She saw touch typing as just another porch. The family had decided that Brenda was to go to college. I asked if she wanted college for her daughter why hadn't they applied or started a search. It was then I got a glimpse of what first generation college meant.

They had no idea how or where to start. College was another universe. They did not know that the high school had college counselors. They did not know that there were catalogues that described colleges and the admissions process that could be found in the local and school libraries. So they were starting from scratch. They were amazed to learn that they could send a simple post card to a college and get most of the information that they needed as well as an application. That information was like a magic door. A post card could produce a large packet. A few months later I learned that Brenda was pleased with here collection of college brochures. All in all they wanted for their daughter what we all want, the best.

I approached my next conference with great enthusiasm armed with the information from the home visit. But I also had to be prepared to over come my supervisor's claims that Brenda and her family were in denial. I decided to put the college matter to a test. There was a state program that would pay Brenda's college costs if she scored high enough on an IQ test. I was able to convince my supervisor that this test would solve the denial problem. It would be an objective assessment of Brenda's college potential. The staff psychologist arranged for Brenda to come in for the testing.

I recall the meeting when my supervisor gave the tests results. The verbal and performance scores had to average 113 for a student to qualify for the scholarship and Brenda's combined score was 111.  One of the other criteria of the state scholarship was a B+ high school average. I was also well aware of the many factors that could influence test scores. The psychologist was generous. He agreed to honor my request to go over Brenda's test with me. At the start he pointed out that "she really fell down" on the performance section of the test. As we went through the test he pointed out the errors as well as the strong points.

As I think back on our discussion it was almost as if he could not understand why Brenda had not done better on the test. We reached the section of the test that Brenda had done very poorly on. This section required her to arrange a puzzle of the Little King cartoon character. As this portion of the test was explained I realized that it was likely that because of her vision Brenda could not get close enough to the page to see that solution to the puzzle.  Come to think of it, it was odd that an agency that served the handicapped did not use handicap accessible tests.

Any way the psychologist got the point about the exam. I suggested a retest that did not penalize her and become a test of herb vision. That was the first plan. However, later that day the psychologist came to my office and said that a retest would not be necessary. He eliminated the Little King puzzle and her score was improved enough to qualify for the state tuition payment program. I called Brenda's home to give then the good news. They were very relieved and immediately talked of the financial advantages. 

The family had begun to work on a college search but with the state payment plan some options were limited. But they clearly enjoyed the search.

Brenda remained optimistic about life and unhappy at school.  Her classmates were the dumbest people in the world. But now she had a plan. An out. As she talked I recalled the great experiences that I had had as a teenager at AFSC seminars and work projects. It happened that there was an AFSC regional office in Ann Arbor and they had programs for high school students. I arranged a home visit to take the AFSC application material to the family. Brenda was excited about meeting people her own age who were interested in the world and folk singing. So it was settled. I was planning to drive her to Ann Arbor for the seminar after I finished work on Friday. That plan was canceled. So Brenda was driven to the seminar by her mother who was receiving chemotherapy for cancer.  Brenda came home on her own. 

Brenda was renewed by the seminar experience.  She had many stories to tell about students she met at the seminar who were not "dolts."  Touch typing plans at the agency were left far behind.  My meetings with Brenda were less and less frequent. Her plans had moved beyond the services provided by the agency. Meeting her father was a goal but was really not more than a formality. My internship was over and the case was closed. My supervisor's evaluation used some of the incidents in this case to suggest that my work was weak. The last that I heard about Brenda was that she was in graduate school at Michigan state and working with students with special needs. Go Brenda!

That of course could be a satisfactory end to this chapter of my training. My faith in a profession diminished and I was even more on the outs.  But that would do Brenda a disservice.  Brenda was more than anything, a high school student with a mother who had cancer.   Cancer severe enough to require chemo therapy.  That status could been crippling to most teens.  But Brenda was bright cheerful and up beat.  This family showed incredible strengths.  Cancer and cancer treatments were not nearly as hopeful as they are now.  Brenda's mother was strong enough to prevent the family from being paralyzed by fear of a dread disease.