Who Am I? A talk about my life and blindness in the Bible and in culture - Highgate United Reform Church 3 Feb 2019

Feb 04, 2019, 09:06 PM

I was invited to speak at this warm, friendly #Church while taking part in a Sunday morning service with #London Gallery Quire. I talk about biblical references to blindness and a little about my life. #Christian #Bible #blind #acceptance #inclusion #poem

The readings were:

Psalm 139.1-18
John 9.1-21

Here's the transcript

Good morning. I am Fiona Dunn and I live in West London. I am a Christian and a musician. I am also blind.

I chose most of those things: where to live, my religion and to be a musician. I didn't choose my name but, if I wanted to, I could change that. The thing I didn't choose, and cannot change, is blindness, but it's the first thing most people see when they look at me.

It's not easy being a Christian when you're blind. There is so much in the Bible, and in many hymns, and indeed, in our culture in general, equating blindness or darkness with sin, unbelief and ignorance and sight and enlightenment with knowledge and righteousness. Jesus talked about the blind leading the blind, saying, if this happened, wouldn't they both fall into a pit? Yes, it's a metaphor but, actually, whenever I've guided other blind people, and I've done it quite a lot, we've never fallen into pits or down a manhole. That kind of thing happens when sighted people guide me and they're not paying attention! Well, maybe not a manhole but I've been guided into furniture many times and, on one memorable occasion, a display of Italian Christmas goodies that fell all over the floor with a clatter … ten points!

Jesus was speaking in a sighted World with the cultural norms of the time but that doesn't make such passages easy to read as a blind person, containing all that prejudice, especially when many people still think we often fall.

I think the last time I fell, apart from after a good night out, was on a slope in some ice about fifteen years ago. Actually, there have been a couple of more recent occasionns but those were caused by objects being left in unexpected places, like the time my friend forgot to tell me he'd put a suitcase on my livingroom floor. My face must have looked a picture as I fell backwards into it, first of all wondering what on Earth had happened and how I got there, then laughing … a lot!
It was very funny.
I mention falling because, during my research for this talk, I realised just how much there was in the Bible about people "groping like the blind" or stumbling or both falling into a pit. I don't grope when I use my cane. I have to touch obstacles to know where they are. When I walk I'm not often lost but many sighted people automatically assume I am because I'm not navigating in the way they do.

So to the readings I chose for this morning's service. As a musician, songwriter and poet the Psalms are probably my favourite part of the Bible. I chose Psalm 139 because it says that God is with the psalmist, wherever he goes. God is always there. God will still see him in the darkness because "(verse 12) even the darkness is not dark to thee,
the night is bright as the day;
for darkness is as light with thee."

That is the experience of many of those who are totally blind. Whatever the ambient conditions, they can still function because they don't need light to see what they're doing. None of this "we can't work at night" nonsense. They are used to not seeing. That's normal for them, and for me too, although I can see light. It doesn't help me to read or see other things but I can see light itself. Still, I have sung solos at Good Friday services in the past where a candle is extinguished after each reading till there are none left alight and I was the only one who could still read any hymn words. I said I thought we should have more services in the dark. For some reason, no-one else seemed keen. I even said I'd teach them Braille.

On to my second reading. This one is more difficult for me and I spent some time deciding what to choose. I didn't really want to pick a healing miracle because I passionately believe that the sooner people accept someone's disability, the better. Accept me for who I am and what I CAN do, don't define me by what I lack. This reading from John chapter nine illustrates the attitude that sadly remains common today, that disabled people or their parents must have sinned in some way to deserve the punishment of a disability in the family.

Jesus then goes on to heal the blind man. Fantastic for the man at the time but where does that leave blind Christians now? Where does that leave me? I don't yearn to be sighteed. What I, and many other disabled people, long for, so powerfully at times that it's an ache in the chest, is to be accepted for who we are. To belong in a World of diverse experiences and abilities. Not to be dehumanised and treated as other.

Nowadays we have a lot of technology that wasn't available 2000 years ago. I wrote this talk on a laptop. I'm reading it to you from an electronic Braille display. I don't need sight in order to live a full life. I need you to see me, the poetic, musical, quirky, funny person I am, not blindness on legs.

In healing the man, Jesus ensured he would be accepted and no longer need to beg at the time he was living in.

Later in the reading the Jews won't believe that the formerly blind man has gained sight until they get his sighted parents to confirm that yes, the man is their son but they don't know how he got his sight. Then they say: "Ask him; he is of
age, he will speak for himself."

The next verse, which wasn't read out this morning, goes on to say that they said this because they feared the Jews, and perhaps they did, but I don't buy that. As someone who is treated like a child relatively often because my eyes don't work, I think his parents often would have had occasion to say "Ask him; he is of
age, he will speak for himself." When asking for asistance at tube stations or in shops, staff will quite often ask a sighted person next to me, sometimes a complete stranger by the way, "what does she want?" There are no words to express the feelings that such an encounter brings. It's like they think I can't have a mind of my own because … my eyes don't work! That association between blindness and ignorance again.

So please, think carefully the next time you are tempted to say "blind ignorance", "blindly following", "blind disregard" or "they don't take a blind bit of notice". Maybe we should all take a blind bit of notice of the language we use … or a sighted bit of notice perhaps? Sounds rather silly when the wording is changed, doesn't it?

When I was a child I was sent to boarding schools for the visually impaired. I got an excellent education, learning Braille, touch typing and many other skills I'd need to live an independent life as an adult, but I was emotionally devastated. I had to spend most of my time growing up in institutions while my sister, who can see, went to a day school, going home to our parents every night, doing all those ordinary things that families do. Eating together, watching telly to unwind, laughing and letting off steam. Growing up, I didn't wish I could see, I just wished I could be at home. That longing for belonging. However good the boarding school, the thing they can't give you is the love and security of being at home in a loving family.

Many times in secondary school I ask myself what I had done to deserve being sent away to such a loveless place with so much bullying. I was very anti-Christian at that time because, if God did exist, it seemed he really didn't care.

It was music that brought me back to Christianity. Probably the only language that would speak to my heart and soul in a way that words alone never could. It was a Gospel choir and I cried my way through most of that concert.
I didn't need to be able to see to be accepted there. They were singing in a musical language I understood. Everyone was welcome.

Since then I have worshipped in various Churches and it has largely been a good experience. I made friends and the Church choirs appreciated my musicality, especially during dark bits in the Good Friday services!

I've also had some less good experiences, like the Church where I was told "we don't need any more musicians", or the Cathedral I attended for a time that never bought Braille hymnbooks, despite the fact they existed and I told people where they could get them. They'd spent money on hymnbooks for everyone else but not me, or anyone else who was blind who might attend in the future. That hurt. It feels like you're not worth much.

At the Church I attend now I was deeply touched when I'd only been there a few weeks and someone said "your Braille hymnbooks have arrived." Up until then I'd been carrying my own copies on the tube and Braille books are rather bulky so it was a huge relief not to have to do that any more. It meant a lot because it showed that they saw me as part of the congregation and the choir and that I was welcome there. I belonged. I still belong, and that's the same in this wonderful quire too.

I'd like to end with a poem I wrote two weeks ago, which sums up some of the themes from this talk.

Who Am I?

I am a musician, singer, songwriter and poet,
That's who I am.
I look for reasons to smile and laugh.
I listen to birdsong to rejuvenate my spirit.
I feel the sun on my face and it warms my heart.
I smell flowers, and freshly cut grass.
These are things I cherish and choose.
I am a person who has never seen anything other than light with my eyes.
I see by listening and feeling.
I listen carefully to the sounds of voices and movement.
I feel to know where things are.
I smell coffee, food, books and electronics to navigate the High Street.
These are things I must do to live my life.
You are the people with sight and it dominates your World.
You look, and look, and look.
You listen when not distracted by looking.
You feel when the light is gone.
You smell things when the aroma is strong.
You forget you can listen, smell and feel.
Too busy looking.
You miss out on so much.
I miss out too, but I can't change that,
So I look for beauty in sound, touch, fragrance and kind hearts.
I listen to beautiful music and messages of hope and love.
I feel. I feel so, so much.
Sometimes it's overwhelming!
But it's me.
I look, I listen, I feel.
I pay attention to what I perceive.
My life is complete.
Different from many but still rich for all that.
Remember, though, if you see me walking,
waiting for a bus, riding the tube,
I did not choose the blindness.
I chose to be me.
I am a musician, singer, songwriter and poet.
That's who I am.