2021 Chad E. Foster
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ISBN 978-1-4002-2265-0 (eBook)
ISBN 978-1-4002-2264-3 (HC)
Epub Edition December 2020 9781400222650
Library of Congress Control Number: 2020949802
Printed in the United States of America
20 21 22 23 LSC 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
To Evie, for everything. I mean everything!
The love, the sacrifices, and support.
To Juliana, for your open heart, genuine personality,
and relentless effort.
To Jackson, for your fearless spirit, caring soul,
and unwavering determination.
To Mom, who showed me the meaning of true loveselflessness.
To Dad, who taught me how to be tough enough
and never settle for less.
CONTENTS
Guide
THE BLACK SUV ROLLED THROUGH the hills of Northern Virginia as I sat in the back seat, headed to my big job interview. Id been fielding calls from Ben, my interviewer, for many months about possibly coming to work for his company, SRA International. In recent years, while working for another big tech company, Id developed a special niche in business analytics, becoming an expert in the arcane field of financial modeling and pricing strategies. Now it was time for me to make a move, and I felt sure I could be of help to SRA.
The SUV glided to a stop in front of SRAs offices, and I stepped out into the warm August sunshine. I grabbed my black leather briefcase, made my way to the rear of the vehicle, and popped open the liftgate. Romeo, my 115-pound German shepherd guide dog, was waiting patiently for me, furiously wagging his tail. I collected his leash and called him out of the vehicle. Once he was standing at attention by my left side, I gave him the Door! command, and he led us to the building entrance.
Romeo was an imposing figure, with a velvety black and tan coat and a head the size of a basketball. He was both adorable and intimidating. Romeo and I were fast walkers, and from afar, you might not think I was Romeos blind handler. With me in a business suit and dark sunglasses, the two of us appeared more like a plainclothes police officer walking a K-9 service dog.
Once inside SRAs headquarters, Ben introduced me around to other people on his team. Then we returned to his office, where Romeo led me to a chair. Once I sat down, Romeo could relax because his work was done for the moment. He remained perfectly quiet and motionless for the duration of the meeting, like any well-trained guide dog.
In our prior conversations, Ben and I had discovered that we spoke a common language regarding how large-scale technology services should be priced and how the financials of those deals could be best managed. Now, for the first time, I was able to open up my laptop on his desk and show him some of the computer models Id developed to inform my insights. I could tell by the sound of Bens voice that he was impressed.
For the next several minutes, Ben explained how the role he had in mind for me required much more than mere technical expertise. I would not only have to analyze vast amounts of data to arrive at my recommended pricing guidance, Id also have to convince the companys executives that my strategy was the winning and profitable approach. These are multibillion-dollar deals, you understand, Ben said. Some of them can make or break the company.
Ben paused. In a tone that reflected his natural curiosity, he asked, Chad, can you really do all these things?
I took only a split second to reply. Ben, I said, this stuff is so easy, I can do it with my eyes closed.
I still remember the sound of Ben bursting into laughter. He hired me later that month, mainly because he knew I could do the job, but also because he knew I was comfortable enough in my own skin to joke about being blind. I had the business and tech skills to succeed, but just as important, he saw firsthand how I could handle myself in a meeting with self-confidence and good humor.
Ive learned to find humor in being blind, because I cant change how blindness is such a big part of my life. Wherever I go, Im led by a German shepherd guide dog (it is not easy to hide a large German shepherd in a conference room). So, because its nearly impossible for me to pretend to be someone Im not, I decided many years ago to accept who I am and deal with my everyday reality head-onembracing it, owning it, and yes, even welcoming it. It wont help me or anyone else if Im ashamed or apologetic about being blind, or if I fail to express myself fully because of it. This self-awareness was forced upon me by my blindness, but it has made me a better person today than I was before I lost my eyesight. I am a better person because of my blindnessnot in spite of it.
As someone who could see until young adulthood, I know how tempting it is for many of us to put up a false front and avoid the responsibility of sincere self-acceptance and authentic self-expression. My blindness disallows the charades and pretensions I once hid behind. I have learned in the years since losing my eyesight to live according to my own standards and on my terms.
For those of you not as fortunate, this is my story.
THIS CANT BE HAPPENING.
The brightly lit pages of the textbook on my desk had just dissolved into a muddled mass of colors. My eyes were no longer working. In the course of several minutes, what looked like a dense swarm of bees had overtaken my field of vision.
Not this. Not now.
I muttered to myself with frustration. How would I explain why I hadnt completed my assignment?
It was a cool East Tennessee evening in the fall of 1996, just a few months shy of my twenty-first birthday, when I realized I would soon permanently lose my ability to see.
The trees on my college campus that afternoon were awash in fall foliagedeep crimson red, brilliant pumpkin orange, and sawdust shades of yellow-brown. Outside the suburban Knoxville home Id been raised in, the yard was filled with brightly colored, fallen leaves. But in my second-floor bedroom, my life was taking a much darker turn.
I was hovering over my desk, with a blazing-bright lamp beaming down on my college literature assignment, as I tried to blink away the swarms of floaters obscuring the words on the page. Floatersthose dark little specks that most people experience as fleeting shadows in their field of visionhad been an increasing problem for me of late. I was having more and more bad days with them, a common symptom of my eye condition, retinitis pigmentosa. Without warning, the floaters would start piling up before me, like swarming bees. Id have to stop what I was doing and roll my eyes to make the floaters clear out, just to get a few moments of visual clarity.
But until this moment, the floaters had never prevented me from getting my schoolwork done. What should have been a thirty-minute reading assignment was taking me more than two hours, and I still wasnt finished. Feelings of frustration welled up inside me. No matter how frequently I rolled my eyes and rubbed them, all I could see was a teeming mosh pit of floaters. The textbook in front of me dissolved into a sea of black and white bubbles.