

Author: Alan Conway, Gatineau QE
My name is Alan Conway. I have been blind since birth, so it was natural that when I started going to school, I would learn to use a reading and writing system that would help me study. Little did I know how important that system would be in later life.
Braille, that marvellous system of raised dots that has come to mean so much for all of us, followed me all the way through school. I learned to read and write it well and remember how excited I was when I eventually learned to write French, the language of its inventor.
Although Braille books became less common as my education advanced, I’m glad to say that I was skilful enough to take notes in Braille when I studied French literature in university and later completed my master’s degree in translation.
In 1981, I began working as a translator for the government of Canada. I kept terminology in Braille on filing cards and used it mainly as a system for taking brief notes, since I dictated my translations.
In 1984, I was successful in a competition for an interpreter’s position. Basically, the job involves sitting in a soundproof booth with a microphone in front of me and a set of headphones. As the speaker at a meeting addresses participants in one language, I repeat what he says simultaneously in the other.
Very often, knowledge of the specialized terminology clients use is in the documents distributed to participants. Not all of them have to be printed in preparation for a meeting, but I will often select very important documents and print them in Braille. Like my sighted colleagues, I can look at a presentation ahead of time and be aware of unusual terminology that may come up.
Computers are a big help to me. In fact, they are the means to allow me to print the Braille I use at work and it would be impossible to imagine using one without a Braille display. This is a classic example of how Braille has found a place in our world of advanced technology, even when some have suggested that speech synthesisers can now meet the needs of blind people. Braille transcription software cannot be totally effective and the transcribed text must therefore be edited. In French Braille for example, proper nouns are not abbreviated, but the software has no way of knowing that such a mistake has been made, so the user needs to know Braille well enough to look at the text and make the corrections.
I honestly feel that any totally blind person interested in working as an interpreter must learn Braille to be successful. I also think there is no doubt that Braille has opened many doors to us and we must promote its use and encourage those who could benefit from it to learn it.
Author: Robert Just, Toronto, ON
I started learning to read and write Braille at the old Halifax School for the Blind in the early 1950's and participated in (and won) several Braille-reading contests.
I have some cherished memories of Braille in school and I would like to share a particularly fond one if I may.
I was in Grade IV at the time. Our Braille teacher, Miss Pearl Campbell, was a stickler for errorless Braille and each day she would conduct a class and check each pupil's paper for errors or absence thereof. She would put two little plastic stars in the right-hand corner of the page to indicate perfection.
A paper with one to three errors was awarded one star. A paper with more than three errors, of course, garnered no stars. At the end of the school year, each student was given his/her book with the year's work in it and I kept mine from Grades III, IV, and V for years afterwards just for the sake of nostalgia. Now, perhaps, I should get to my point. One day while I was in Grade IV, Miss Campbell came to us with an idea:
"Class," she began, I was thinking of taking you on a picnic some Saturday afternoon. In order to earn this picnic, everyone in the class must produce a perfect Braille page on a designated day."
We all cheered and were filled with determination to work towards that goal. The designated day arrived and each student was sitting at his/her desk, slate and stylus at the ready, champing at the bit for Miss Campbell to enter and say "good afternoon" and to instruct us to get ready. Everyone ready with slate and stylus, she began dictating. You could have heard a pin drop in that classroom except for the pecking sounds you would have expected from all styluses working at once. Everyone seemed to be relaxed and ready to work to accomplish the task we were assigned. At the end of the session Miss Campbell collected all the papers and scrutinized them one by one, saying "perfect paper" as she went through each one. We had accomplished our feat and the date for the picnic was set. A sighted teacher, Miss Stella Fraser, was invited to come along and help out and she and Miss Campbell got together and prepared us a wonderful party. We went to a Halifax park and played all manner of games and ran around the park to work up an appetite. The Halifax "Chronicle Herald" was called in advance and a photographer came to the park for a group picture. An article about our picnic and how we earned it was written to accompany the picture. I won the Braille reading contest that year.
For about five years after graduation from high school, I studied piano and learned Braille music from a blind teacher, attaining the Grade IV level in music and theory. In the 60's and early 70's I participated in an annual rally under the sponsorship of the Atlantic Sports Car Club. The instruction sheet was in Braille and each blind navigator was expected to communicate the instructions to his/her assigned driver. In 1977, the first year I was working here in Toronto, I took second place in the rally sponsored by the British Empire Motor club and still have that trophy in my possession.
In 1971, still living in my native city of Halifax, I was chosen to be on a team transcribing textbooks into Braille for the students at the old alma mater. I found this experience most rewarding. The project was submitted to the federal government for its Opportunities for Youth program. The following winter, under the Winter Works/Local Initiatives Program, I started to work again, this time transcribing material for the CNIB's Maritime division. There were many fun-filled events in connection with this program. The first major project I undertook was the transcription of Arthur C. Clark's "2001 a Space Odyssey", which I divided into seven Braille volumes. A little later in that particular project I started doing more transcription work for the old school. I transcribed an excellent historical reference book entitled "Nova Scotia's Two Remarkable Giants", which the then history teacher and her pupils greatly appreciated. When this was completed and thoroughly checked, I transcribed the 448-page Canadian Scout Handbook published by the National Council of the Boy Scouts of Canada. This I divided into 11 large volumes. This took me into the summer of 1972, as our projects were granted a series of extensions. Some of my work included transcription of Shakespearean plays. I did "The Merchant of Venice" and "Julius Caesar" close together. Then came an economics textbook, which, like the Canadian Scout Handbook, I divided into 11 large volumes. That fall and into the following winter adventure books dominated my work, as I transcribed such works as "A Wrinkle in Time", "Two Against the North" by Farley Mowatt", and "A Hundred Million Francs" by a French author by the name of Paul Berna.
From time to time we had to digress from our regular work to transcribe monthly statements for those working in the institute's catering service known as Caterplan. Meanwhile, I became interested in amateur radio, attaining my license in 1973. Each month, when the Caterplan newsletter was released, I transcribed it and sent it out to the Braille readers who worked in the canteens around the Maritimes and each month there would be at least one amateur radio-related article.
In 1976 I came to Toronto and took the Dictaphone transcription course and had dictionaries and other references in Braille. Toward the end of the course, I assisted in the compilation of a glossary of drugs, which I utilized until my retirement in 2005, after a 28-year career as a medical transcriptionist at Toronto's Sunnybrook Hospital.
I attend a large Salvation Army citadel here in Toronto. About six months after my enrollment as a soldier in 1992, the officers, in association with the pastoral care committee, arranged to get me the complete Army Song Book from England. It is in eight volumes. Each week, in preparation for the Sunday morning worship meeting, someone E-mails me the song numbers. This way I can go to my seat and look them up in plenty of time. I also have a couple of hymn books and other music books and the whole Bible here in my apartment.
Author: Betty Nobel, Vancouver BC
Before going to school at the Jericho Hill School for the Blind, I attended a kindergarten class in Hope BC. For the most part, it was a very frustrating experience. Every day I was given a piece of plasticine and asked to make something. I wanted to learn the alphabet and couldn’t understand why I wasn’t doing the same activities as the other children.
The next year, at Jericho Hill, I was introduced to Braille. My name was on my desk. I learned to read words. I even got a book to read! In the spring of that year, I was in the hospital having my tonsils out. You can imagine my joy when I was presented with a brand new book all wrapped up in plastic. With some help, I opened it and tried to read it. Much to my horror, the lines were so close together that I couldn’t make out a word. It was my first exposure to single-spaced Braille!
My memories of reading and writing Braille as I was growing up are many and varied. I remember daily practicing with the slate and stylus with the teacher dictating to the students, always pushing us to write faster. I read many books aloud to my sister who struggled to read print due to low vision. I remember long hours in the school library browsing the shelves and choosing books. I remember writing math equations on a perkins Braille writer.
I loved to read so much that I used to hide my book under the covers and read long after I should have been asleep. One night, my mother heard me crying in the bathroom at about 3:30 am. When she asked me what was wrong, I told her that "Eva had died." At the time, I was reading Uncle Tom's Cabin. Braille has always been so useful. My life would be so different without it. On a regular basis, I read notes for meetings and presentations at work, choir anthems and hymns at church, books and magazines for leisure reading, and so much more! Without Louis Braille’s initiative and determination, I would have been deprived of many of life’s experiences. Thank you Louis.
Author Sandra Brooks, Kingston ON
I was totally blind from the age of one, and so went to the Ontario School for the Blind in Brantford, Ontario at age six. I can remember learning Braille. We were given cards with words on, written out in uncontracted Braille, and then written in contracted Braille. The first words I can remember on these cards were Mother and Father. We had plastic envelopes that I remember we called "houses" and we kept our cards in these envelopes.
When I was in Grade One at the Ontario School for the Blind, at Christmas my parents received a Braille Christmas Card. I remember that it had a raised velvety feeling poinsettia on the front, and the message in the card was written in Braille and print. When the card was opened completely, the alphabet was shown so that it was possible to see which dots made up which letters.
Using this and a slate and stylus, my Mother learned how to write enough uncontracted Braille that she could write letters to me when I was away at school.
It was such a special thrill for me to be able to read my own letters from home without someone having to read them for me. I can only imagine how long it must have taken her to write them, what a loving thing that was for her to have done for me.
When we were cleaning out my parents house after her death, the card was still there, definitely showing its age and the fact that it had been well used.
If memory serves me, we started learning to write in Braille with a slate and stylus at the same time we learned to read. Once we had a large enough vocabulary, we started reading books all about Dick and Jane and Spot.
I loved Braille right from the start, and have never changed my mind with respect to that. Despite all of today's technology, and the fact that I have a computer, a Braille printer, an mp3 player that will play audio books in Daisy format as well as in mp3 and text format, I prefer to read to myself in Braille and always have Braille library books and Braille magazines on hand. I have a Braille writer, but a day doesn't go by that I don't write myself a message or take down some information with a slate and stylus.
Braille made it possible for me to graduate from high school, to go on to the Royal National Institute for the Blind School of Physiotherapy in London, England, and to receive my diploma as a registered Physiotherapist. Later, still using primarily Braille, I graduated from Queens University with a B.Sc. in Physical Therapy.
Braille made it possible for me to take notes on my patients, write down information I would later type up to go on charts, and to label pieces of machinery so that I could use them independently.
Braille has helped me to label equipment in my home, to organize files, to label food items, to label clothing so that I know what colour it is. I think one of the saddest things that seems to be happening these days, is that educators seem to think young children being educated in the regular school system don't really need to learn Braille. They feel computers and audio equipment have taken its place. This is totally wrong. Without being able to read and write Braille, children are being made illiterate. It is vital that we be able to write and read, not need to rely on equipment that may not be portable, or, as we all know, can be unreliable.
I cannot emphasize enough, the enjoyment Braille gives me every day, and the independence it allows me. Yes, Braille books are bulky and take up a lot of space, but the advantages will forever outweigh the disadvantages.
I hope that Louis Braille realized what a wonderful legacy he left us, and I hope that the blind community will always cherish it and insist on its continued and increased availability.
Author: Lynne Gallant, Victoria BC
My story is that I sometimes get paid to put materials into Braille. I have always had partial sight and have been able to read print. But I learned Braille when I was a student at Jericho Hill School. Over the years I have kept it up. I do my brailling at home. The CNIB refers people to me.
I put Braille on business cards and I’ve done menus for some restaurants. I’ve even put Braille on playing cards for special games. Once I did some technical work for the University of Victoria. I do this work with a Perkins Brailler. My partial sight allows me to read the print as I make the Braille copy.
I think blind children need to learn Braille so that they will be able to spell and write.
Author: Robert Just, Toronto, ON
I started learning to read and write Braille at the old Halifax School for the Blind in the early 1950's and participated in (and won) several Braille-reading
contests.
I have some cherished memories of Braille in school and I would like to share a particularly fond one if I may.
I was in Grade IV at the time. Our Braille teacher, Miss Pearl Campbell, was a stickler for errorless Braille and each day she would conduct a class and check each pupil's paper for errors or absence thereof. She would put two little plastic stars in the right-hand corner of the page to indicate perfection.
A paper with one to three errors was awarded one star. A paper with more than three errors, of course, garnered no stars. At the end of the school year, each student was given his/her book with the year's work in it and I kept mine from Grades III, IV, and V for years afterwards just for the sake of nostalgia. Now, perhaps, I should get to my point. One day while I was in Grade IV, Miss Campbell came to us with an idea:
"Class," she began, I was thinking of taking you on a picnic some Saturday afternoon. In order to earn this picnic, everyone in the class must produce a perfect Braille page on a designated day."
We all cheered and were filled with determination to work towards that goal. The designated day arrived and each student was sitting at his/her desk, slate and stylus at the ready, champing at the bit for Miss Campbell to enter and say "good afternoon" and to instruct us to get ready. Everyone ready with slate and stylus, she began dictating. You could have heard a pin drop in that classroom except for the pecking sounds you would have expected from all styluses working at once. Everyone seemed to be relaxed and ready to work to accomplish the task we were assigned. At the end of the session Miss Campbell collected all the papers and scrutinized them one by one, saying "perfect paper" as she went through each one. We had accomplished our feat and the date for the picnic was set. A sighted teacher, Miss Stella Fraser, was invited to come along and help out and she and Miss Campbell got together and prepared us a wonderful party. We went to a Halifax park and played all manner of games and ran around the park to work up an appetite. The Halifax "Chronicle Herald" was called in advance and a photographer came to the park for a group picture. An article about our picnic and how we earned it was written to accompany the picture. I won the Braille reading contest that year.
For about five years after graduation from high school, I studied piano and learned Braille music from a blind teacher, attaining the Grade IV level in music and theory. In the 60's and early 70's I participated in an annual rally under the sponsorship of the Atlantic Sports Car Club. The instruction sheet was in Braille and each blind navigator was expected to communicate the instructions to his/her assigned driver. In 1977, the first year I was working here in Toronto, I took second place in the rally sponsored by the British Empire Motor club and still have that trophy in my possession.
In 1971, still living in my native city of Halifax, I was chosen to be on a team transcribing textbooks into Braille for the students at the old alma mater.
I found this experience most rewarding. The project was submitted to the federal government for its Opportunities for Youth program. The following winter,
under the Winter Works/Local Initiatives Program, I started to work again, this time transcribing material for the CNIB's Maritime division. There were
many fun-filled events in connection with this program. The first major project I undertook was the transcription of Arthur C. Clark's "2001 a Space Odyssey",
which I divided into seven Braille volumes. A little later in that particular project I started doing more transcription work for the old school. I transcribed
an excellent historical reference book entitled "Nova Scotia's Two Remarkable Giants", which the then history teacher and her pupils greatly appreciated.
When this was completed and thoroughly checked, I transcribed the 448-page Canadian Scout Handbook published by the National Council of the Boy Scouts
of Canada. This I divided into 11 large volumes. This took me into the summer of 1972, as our projects were granted a series of extensions. Some of my
work included transcription of Shakespearean plays. I did "The Merchant of Venice" and "Julius Caesar" close together. Then came an economics textbook,
which, like the Canadian Scout Handbook, I divided into 11 large volumes. That fall and into the following winter adventure books dominated my work, as
I transcribed such works as "A Wrinkle in Time", "Two Against the North" by Farley Mowatt", and "A Hundred Million Francs" by a French author by the name
of Paul Berna.
From time to time we had to digress from our regular work to transcribe monthly statements for those working in the institute's catering service known as Caterplan. Meanwhile, I became interested in amateur radio, attaining my license in 1973. Each month, when the Caterplan newsletter was released, I transcribed it and sent it out to the Braille readers who worked in the canteens around the Maritimes and each month there would be at least one amateur radio-related article.
In 1976 I came to Toronto and took the Dictaphone transcription course and had dictionaries and other references in Braille. Toward the end of the course, I assisted in the compilation of a glossary of drugs, which I utilized until my retirement in 2005, after a 28-year career as a medical transcriptionist at Toronto's Sunnybrook Hospital.
I attend a large Salvation Army citadel here in Toronto. About six months after my enrollment as a soldier in 1992, the officers, in association with the pastoral care committee, arranged to get me the complete Army Song Book from England. It is in eight volumes. Each week, in preparation for the Sunday morning worship meeting, someone E-mails me the song numbers. This way I can go to my seat and look them up in plenty of time. I also have a couple of hymn books and other music books and the whole Bible here in my apartment.