Quickly losing one's sight can be devastating. Ten years ago, my eyesight went from normal to non-existent in six months. My depression was evident after becoming blind: I was referred to María for counseling. She was no stranger to loss: I knew María had been blind for a long time. As her client, I knew she was originally from Spain, but a decade would pass before I would learn more about her physical and personal losses.

Growing up in Spain and the Bronx
María was born with a genetic retinal degeneration; she was always visually impaired. The city she grew up in her native Spain lacked a school for blind people, so she orally learned some geography and multiplication tables in a regular school. She couldn't read or write; print was too small for her to distinguish.

"I knew I couldn't see like other kids since I couldn't read the print," she remembers, "but I played and did my chores like everyone else, so I never felt any different, especially since I didn't know any blind kids or adults."

Her mother died when she was five. At 12, María and her family – father, stepmother and sister – moved to the Bronx, N.Y. At the time, blind kids had to live at the New York Institute for the Blind in order to obtain an education. In this school, she began learning Braille, English, reading and writing as well as other subjects. María lived there for two months, however, she missed her family, hated the food and felt lonely as she didn't speak English.

Transition from residential to regular school
That fall, her father requested that the Board of Education transfer Maria to a public school. She worked intensely during her first year in that school: she got home around four in the afternoon, ate lunch and studied with her family's help until ten at night. Weekends were not much different; she read every book at her reach. By the end of that intensive year, she reached the sixth grade level and was ready to move on to Junior High.

María felt integrated with her junior high and high school classmates; a "monitor," another student in her grade, assisted her to attend their classes. The monitor would walk with her and take carbon paper notes, if necessary. Visually impaired students met at the "Braille class." In this class, a teacher would transcribe printed notes and tests to Braille and vice versa. This long process prepared María to function at any school, including college.

Trying out employment, returning to school
Like many high school graduates, María longed to get a job and become independent. In spite of her father wishing her to acquire a higher education, she decided to work in a factory for a number of years and later work in an X-ray laboratory developing film. However, the dull manual work soon bored her: she decided to get her social worker degree. By now, she used a guide dog and friends would help her read study materials. She seldom used the disabled student office at college, as she often arranged for her own readers. At the beginning of the school year, María would introduce herself to her professors. She asked them to repeat their notes on the blackboard aloud, call her name when she raised her hand, and gave them options to conduct tests.

Finding a vocation
María liked helping others in need – even as a young child in Spain. Whenever someone was sick, caring for them and feeding them felt natural. So after her unhappy period at the New York Institute for the Blind, her father took her to meet with a social worker. María was fascinated to learn she was blind like herself.

"This is what I would like to do and can do!" she thought. "In a way, this social worker was my role model," she told me.

Though María had a clear career goal, she recognized blindness had limited her options.

"I always wanted to be part of the helping profession, but when I took Anthropology in college, I almost lost it," she recalls, "I thought: if I could only see, I would definitively become an anthropologist."

Following her father's advice
María considers her father to be her mentor. He felt one of the main reasons for her coming to the States was that here she could be whatever she wanted to be.

"You can do it, there is no stopping you, but you need to learn the language and get an education," she agrees as she recalls his words.

As a Spaniard, María thinks Spanish-speaking job-seekers with a disability have the opportunity to become successful professionals in this country. She offered some pointers:

• Learn English: Like her dad, she believes being proficient in English is very important.
  
• Get a degree: Obtaining higher education – from a well-recognized college if possible – can be useful. Get good grades.
  
• Excel in your field: Being good is not enough for disabled people if they want to compete with equally qualified job seekers. We must give employers an incentive to hire a person that may require special accommodations.
  
• Carry yourself professionally: Always be on time and look well groomed.

I asked María why a person with a disability should worry about having a career if the government provides income support, medical insurance, food stamps, and subsidized housing.

"I was telling someone that I made $60 less on my first job compared to my disability income. I had gone to college to make less money?" she jokingly ponders, "but I'll tell you, I felt so much better, I had a higher self-esteem, I had a sense of identity, I felt like a normal integrated member of society."

María Singer graduated from New York University and has worked as a bilingual Licensed Clinical Social Worker in the Mental Health Clinic at The Jewish Guild for the Blind since 1981.