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Talking Tech with Curtis Chong
Searching for Independence Through Technology
By Curtis Chong
Historically, no technology has succeeded in replacing the cane or the guide dog as the principle tool of independent travel by someone who is blind. While no one can say with any assurance why this is the case, there is little doubt that over the past forty years, some interesting devices and gadgets have been created.
The laser cane is one technology that has been developed to modify a cane to alert the blind traveler to overhead obstacles or steps. An early version of the laser cane would emit infrared laser beams in front of the blind traveler to detect drop offs and overhead obstacles, and it would emit different tones or activate certain vibrators under the fingers when something was detected by the reflected beams. The one laser cane that I did examine in the mid 1970’s cost about $3,000, and the technology was integral to the cane. If the cane broke, a person would lose everything--the cane and the technology that went with it. Since that time, I have never met a blind person using anything like the laser cane.
The Sonic Pathfinder and the SonicGuide are two examples of technologies that were developed for the blind traveler which provide information about the distance and direction of any obstacle detected. These devices are worn on the traveler’s head and contain a number of transmitters and receivers that feed information to a microcomputer. Ultrasonic echoes are processed, and audio information is provided through earpieces which the blind traveler wears while walking. I myself had a chance to work with the SonicGuide in the mid 1970’s. Essentially, the SonicGuide was packaged in a pair of spectacles, and this was connected to a computer which was clipped to the belt. While I found the SonicGuide to be very good at helping me to locate tree branches and other overhead obstacles, I found that listening to the SonicGuide tended to distract my attention away from the immediate environment. Also, I still needed to use my cane. I suspect that this, combined with the hefty price tag (two to three thousand dollars), significantly lessened the appeal of these electronic travel technologies.
Of all the technologies that have been applied to the business of independent travel by the blind, GPS technology seems to have been the most widely adopted, despite its relatively high cost as compared to the cane. While GPS technology can in no way replace the cane, it does provide useful information that the cane cannot. For instance, it can tell a person’s direction of travel; the name of the street where a traveler is walking; the distance and direction to reach the nearest intersection; and the addresses of nearby restaurants, business establishments, or other points of interest. While riding the bus, the blind traveler can use GPS technology to find out what streets are nearby.
The very first GPS system for the blind that I recall was developed back in the early 1990’s by a company called Arkenstone. It was called the Talking Atlas, and you had to carry both a laptop computer and a GPS receiver while traveling. Since then, GPS technology has been incorporated into cell phones, note-takers used by the blind, and hand-held GPS systems designed specifically for the blind.
The perfect technology supporting independent travel for the blind has yet to be created. However, over the years, there has been some forward movement in this area, and there is every possibility that research and development in this area will continue.
Blind Perspective
By Linda Slayton
Who is your best friend and why are they your best friend? The answer to that question is different for each of us. Usually it lies in the traits that a friend possesses or in the bonds of trust we have created over time. Sometimes it is a more undefined answer such as, “I just don’t know what I’d do without her.” Whatever our reasoning, our friendship exists because, on some level, there is mutual support between us.
My friendship with my white cane developed slowly. My home teacher brought my cane to me when I first became connected with the Department for the Blind. Then my cane came with me to the orientation center and it was there that we were forced to bond. I say forced because I wasn’t very excited to be blind or to use a cane.
Of course, during that time, other students were also bonding with their canes. Most of us pretended to have no need, want, or desire to be friends with a lowly cane. No, indeed, they were not canes at all (except maybe during class time). Instead, they were fishing poles, light sabers, javelins, dance props, pokers, stick ponies, and people-movers. They were anything but a way to identify us as blind folks and anything but a tool we actually needed because we were blind. Fortunately, we would learn differently.
The real bonding between my cane and me began during travel. Travel was the place I felt most vulnerable. With sleep shades I felt like a super hero who loses their super power. My usable vision had been my power and it was gone. I was out in the big world with traffic villains coming at me from every direction. My options were simple and few. I could go slow, steady and carry a big stick or I could die. Meet Captain Cane-Man! Sheepishly, I must confess that this scenario happened on home block. I must also add that I never became Captain Cane-Man, but I did achieve a fairly acceptable Citizen Cane.
For those of you who know me, you also know I do not always carry my cane. If I am using a cane, it is usually my white support cane. That doesn’t mean I have given up on our friendship. Like any friendship it has evolved over time. We are there for one another when needed and always will be.
The development of new technologies such as GPS makes me wonder if the long white cane will someday be obsolete. I hope not. Just as we connect personally to our canes, our canes connect us in personal ways to each other. When I hear the tapping of someone’s cane, I instantly recognize a kindred spirit. That sound alerts me that someone is near who shares a common ground of obstacles, successes, frustrations, and victories. Whether I speak with that person or not, the sound alone connects me to another with a feeling of support and unity. It too is a sort of friendship for me. Our white canes may tell others we are blind, but they tell us we are a blind community.
Linda Slayton is a freelance writer living in Des Moines. She can be reached by e-mail at lcslayton@yahoo.com.
