The idea didn't specifically terrify me; in fact I was primarily annoyed to waste an hour of my life stumbling around in the dark, thanks to Mrs. D. This would be a game not "a learning experience" as she put it. Maybe I was being insensitive, or maybe I was just seeing the assignment for what I thought it truly was in the beginning, a hoax. Mrs. D had decided it would be good to assign a "Blind/Deaf experiment. Each student had to decide whether to spend and hour with something obscuring their vision or something that obliterates their hearing. I chose the former, a bit reluctantly I might add. We then proceeded to write a narrative about it, it was Creative Writing class after all. So, to sound a bit cliché, "This is my story":
When I first put on the blindfold, I wasn't entirely worried about tripping or falling over something I couldn't see, because I manage to do that on a daily basis even with full range of vision. I was, however, wondering how many times I would be hit over the head with a pillow or plastic stick before the hour was over. After being blindfolded I allowed my five-year-old little sister, Libby, to lead me around. She led me into our small computer room where my eight-year-old brother, Joey, was glued to the computer screen, as usual. I could hear their giggles regarding the large mass of cloth wrapped around my head.
As I tried to leave the room my first prediction came true and Joey smacked me hard across the back. You must understand, he usually does this anyways but he knew that he could get away with it this because I couldn't see where he ran.
Libby tried to help me out as best as she could and led me into the kitchen where my thirteen-year-old sister Jess thought it was funny to tap me on the head and then run away as well. I could hear her coming most of the time because she was either laughing through her nose or, being my sister and direct relative, she tripped on something on her way over.
My baby brother Josh remained in his highchair while I was blindfolded because I didn't want to risk stepping on him or falling on him. I could hear his spitty fingers running across the tray in search of cheerios while I stumbled around the kitchen trying to find the fridge. Once I found it I opened it and asked Jess to help me find the two percent milk. We have two different kinds of milk whole milk, for Joshua, and two percent, for the rest of us. Both being in one-gallon jugs they were undistinguishable from each other through touch alone. I retrieved the correct gallon of milk, with help from Jess, and set it down on the cluttered island, knocking some things off to make room. I followed the island around, tripping over the garbage bag once, and found the cupboard with all the glasses in it. I pulled out a small one and put it on the island as well. Reaching across the counter to find the milk I scooted it to myself and unscrewed the cap tipping it over my cup.
I tried pouring the milk into the cup. I thought I was doing just fine but Jessie's laughter advised me otherwise. The only way I could tell if the milk was going into my glass was by sticking my finger under the spout on the gallon. Finally I could feel some of the milk coming out. I was afraid of spilling it so I filled it only half way.
About half an hour into the "experiment", my mom and my two other sisters got home from shopping. I tried as best as I could to help them unpack the items, pulling one out at a time, but the only thing I could recognize was a pack of socks.
After putting away the groceries my mom asked us all to help clean the living room. Sitting on the floor near the bookcase I grabbed anything that felt like a book, and most of the items that hit me in the head, which felt like coloring books, and piled it on top the other books on the shelves.
A few minutes and a couple more anonymous whacks to the head later I could take my blindfold off. I was relieved I could now get my revenge, if I could only see through the blinding light.
While I was "blind" for an hour this weekend, I do not believe I learned much about how it feels to live like blind person. A blind person has to live with being blind their entire life or the majority of their life, always hoping for a miracle or a risky surgery that could restore their sight. A blind person is more accustomed to the total darkness that they live with every day, they can feel someone walking through the vibrations in the floorboards, and they can distinguish the difference between, relatives, and friend's voices easier, all of their senses heightened, to help them through a life-long struggle. I have only learned that I would not be accustomed to such a life if it happened suddenly but would adjust with time though it may be hard. I have learned that if only playing around with an old bandana around your eyes, one cannot truly understand what it means to be blind forever because they will always know that after a little time the blind-fold will fall, sight will be restored and nothing major in their life has changed.