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Traveling Blind: Life Lessons from Unlikely Teachers von Fogg, Laura (eBook)

  • Erscheinungsdatum: 16.06.2012
  • Verlag: Medusa's Muse
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Traveling Blind: Life Lessons from Unlikely Teachers

In her remarkable memoir, Laura Fogg shares the unique life lessons she learned from the children she has worked with as a teacher of the visually impaired; lessons on patience, hope, doubt, loss, control, judgment and, ultimately, joy. With honesty and insight, Laura relates her experiences as an itinerant teacher in beautiful, rural Mendocino County. The abundant challenges and delights in her life's work are vividly portrayed with humor and tears and each child is seen for who he is--rather than for who he is not.


    Format: ePUB
    Kopierschutz: none
    Seitenzahl: 210
    Erscheinungsdatum: 16.06.2012
    Sprache: Englisch
    ISBN: 9780979715211
    Verlag: Medusa's Muse
    Größe: 748kBytes
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Traveling Blind: Life Lessons from Unlikely Teachers


E ach step in my nightmare brought me closer to an airless chamber below the museum. Dusty, dark and cramped, the room was invisible to throngs of visitors in the building above, as they wandered the halls admiring works of the ancient masters. No voices down here below ground level - just echoes of the dull thud made when each painting was carted down the steps and dumped on top of the one before it. Piles of forgotten artwork towered around me, brown and unrecognizable with age and layers of crazed yellow varnish. It was my job to scrape each canvas down to the original paint and catalogue it. I stared hopelessly at the stacks and the chamber grew smaller, the walls moving in towards me. I stood paralyzed, sentenced to an eternity in this subterranean purgatory without light or sound.

I woke up from my bad dream sweaty and exhausted, yet charged. Convinced in my very core that the time had come for me to change direction. I had lived in Italy for the previous year, surrounded by cathedrals and palaces filled with masterpieces from the Renaissance, and had fallen easily into an Art History major upon coming home to the University of California at Berkeley. I was about to graduate to an uncertain future, with no job possibilities that were even remotely interesting to me. It was becoming more evident as each day passed that studying the two-dimensional creations of people who had been dead for three hundred years was not my calling. I needed a strong shot of life, in the here and now, with people who were still breathing and talking. I was ready for anything that would put an end to my recurring nightmare, but had no idea where to turn for inspiration.

On one particularly gray Berkeley day, I walked out of an art history class, miserably watching groups of students bustling around, all looking like they knew exactly where they were going. My final quarter as a senior was almost over and desperation about my future was looming dangerously close. I headed towards my apartment to cram for a test, changed my mind, and decided to go buy an ice cream first. Taking an unaccustomed path, I passed a rack of newspapers and saw that the new issue of the Daily CAL had come out. I grabbed a copy with the intention of stuffing it in my backpack to read later, but something moved me to scan the headlines before walking on. An article caught my attention and I stood there reading it, turning the paper over when it continued onto the back page. I never finished the article.

My eye went straight to a smallish advertisement, set within a simple black rectangle. "Volunteers needed at the California School for the Blind," the letters spelled, followed by a contact number. I read the short ad a second time, my mind already gearing up to imagine myself spending a few hours a week tutoring some cute children who would benefit from my help. The idea was appealing - the CSB campus was close to my apartment, and going there would be a fun project for the rest of the quarter. I had never possessed the slightest desire to become a teacher, but this would be something useful to keep me occupied while I came up for air and tried to make some serious decisions about where I could search in the world of the living for an eventual career. It would be a welcome break from the routine of studying for classes I had lost interest in.

Within two days I was signed up at the School for the Blind and walking with a certain amount of trepidation towards my assigned classroom. Moving through the dim corridor that smelled of a hundred years of floor wax, I was stunned to realize how depressingly similar this place was to the chamber under the museum in my nightmare. I considered bolting. Never one to back out on a commitment, though, I missed my chance to flee and found myself in the classroom, face to face with Miss Hertz.

All business in her navy blue skirt and butt

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