I can’t stress how many times I’ve run into a sighted person—or have heard stories from fellow people in the blind community—and I’ve suddenly been thrust into an uncomfortable situation. You can only educate so much, and eventually it becomes tiring. So, here’s what NOT to do when meeting or interacting with a blind person!
Don’t touch!
This has happened to me on more than one occasion, and of course none of the people who grabbed me knew where I was going despite their sudden urge to “help”. They also didn’t ask for my consent! DO NOT, under any circumstances, touch us without asking. And that goes for anyone, blind or sighted. We know where we’re going; we don’t need your help crossing the street. If we do, we’ll just ask. And if we ask, please just extend your elbow for us to hold. Don’t touch us and don’t steer us anywhere—especially since you won’t know where our destination is. How would you like it if we came and grabbed you without asking? We’re humans first, and we deserve consent. Keep your hands to yourself.
Don’t just start talking.
Introduce yourself first! Say “Hi, my name is…” if we’ve never met, or “Hey, it’s me, so-and-so” if we’ve only talked once or twice. We won’t remember who you are unless you lead with your name. We’re not good with faces and sometimes, it can be difficult to distinguish a person’s voice if we’ve only spoken to them a couple of times.
Don’t grab our cane or guide dog harness.
Seriously, just don’t. It’s rude and an invasion of personal space. It’s the same rule as not touching us without asking—grabbing our cane won’t help anyone in that situation. Grabbing our guide dog harness certainly won’t, either, and it will confuse our poor dog. Just ask if we need help. That’s all.
Don’t talk to our guide dog.
Intentionally interfering with a working service dog team is a misdemeanor. It’s dangerous and can distract the service animal from doing their tasks safely. In these situations, it’s always best to admire from afar and leave the animal be. Also, don’t get mad at us when we say no to letting you pet our guide dogs. They’re working, and you as a random person on the street are not entitled to anything.
Don’t yell at us to cross the street.
The same goes for beeping your car horn. Please don’t lean out the window and yell at us that it’s safe to cross the street. It’s very distracting, and of course the reason why we’re standing at the curb waiting is to assess whether or not we actually can cross. We’ve been trained in something called orientation and mobility (O&M for short), meaning we know how to cross the street and listen for when it’s safe. Usually, when people do tell us it’s safe to cross, it actually isn’t. What’s the point of that? You’re not helping.
Don’t lead us by our canes.
This is dangerous. It’s also in the same realm as “don’t touch or steer us” and “don’t grab our guide dog’s harness”. Picking up our cane and leading us by the end is the least helpful thing anyone can ever do. The tip is designed to be on the ground to warn us about any obstacles or changes in elevation—same goes for a guide dog. Picking it up and using it as a makeshift tether of sorts negates all of that; not to mention, it’s incredibly disorienting. Please don’t touch us or our equipment.
Don’t stop us in public to pray for our eyesight.
This also happened to me once. I remember it vividly. I was about twelve, in Boston, and on my way to see a production of Anne of Green Gables. A random woman outside the theater stopped me, grabbed my hands, and said she’d pray for me. I was shocked. I just stared at her, blankly, and thanked her because… What else was I supposed to do? God isn’t going to fix my eyesight. He probably can’t even help you learn to keep your mouth shut. Plus, it’s impolite to push your faith on to others, especially unsuspecting people on the street. It’s a waste of everybody’s time. Save the spiel; there’s no reason to be like that.
In conclusion…
We’re all individuals who do things differently, both as people who are blind and people in general. I might have a different approach to a task compared to someone else in the community. Don’t automatically assume we’re all the same—we’re not, just like how you differ in personality from your parents or friends or significant other. Don’t touch us without our consent, and if you think we’re lost or need help, just ask. It would be a much better situation for everyone if we interacted more with our words and less by putting our hands on strangers trying to cross the street. We just want to be treated like everyone else. There’s no need to do or say something outlandish when interacting with, or meeting, a blind person.