How many times as you have been going about your daily business have you been told that you're amazing, an inspiration, or even a special gift from God? Probably too many to count. One such experience stands out in my mind as being particularly degrading and irritating. Not too long ago, I was walking out of the elevator toward the exit of a classroom building at UCLA, when suddenly a man started shouting in a loud, obnoxious voice, "This way, this way!" I tried to protest that I was fine, but he wasn't listening. When I reached the door, he said in the same obnoxious voice, "Wow, good job, you are so amazing! You made it!" I found it quite annoying that this young man believed that I was incapable of walking straight out of an elevator about 20 feet to get to a door, and that I needed encouragement and cheering to do so.

        Anyway, I'm sure you can all understand why I would say that comments like this-false words of praise from sighted individuals, which insult, mock, and humiliate us-are the antithesis of empowerment.

        But then what is empowerment, and how do we get it? Let's see if my journey toward empowerment, which, by the way, is by no means over, can help us to answer that question.

        I have spent most of my life surrounded by my sighted peers and competing with them academically and in activities outside of school. This, in some ways, empowers me and allows me to see myself on terms of equality with them. But are we truly empowered when people insist that we are amazing for doing the simplest of things?

        Despite the fact that my parents always expected me to do well in school and interact with my sighted peers, I was rarely asked to perform domestic duties when I was growing up, aside from setting the table and emptying the dishwasher. In fact, before I attended the Louisiana Center for the Blind, I had never cleaned a house, ironed clothes or cooked a meal, aside from warming up food in the microwave. Furthermore, I often walked sighted guide with family and friends growing up and left my cane at home, convincing myself that I didn't need it, thus sending a message that I was incapable of walking independently because I was blind. Without realizing it, I internalized, to some extent, the idea that I was inferior to my sighted peers. I did not take public transportation independently because I doubted that I could. I didn't even question why I allowed my sighted friends and family to help me so much with basic daily chores.

        I remember the first time I took a train independently. I was a junior in high school and had just moved to California, where I met some members of the NFB, who mentored and befriended me. My parents were apprehensive about allowing me to take a train alone to San Francisco to meet my blind friend, so my friend came to meet me in Fremont where I lived, and we took the train to San Francisco together. I had previously accepted my parents' assertion that I was not ready to travel independently yet, but as I saw my friend traveling with such confidence, I was encouraged. I began to question why I wasn't doing that, and became determined that it was time for me to start. So, that evening, we parted at the train station, and I found the correct train and went home alone. It may seem like a small achievement now, but as somebody once told me, "It's the little things in life that count," and at the time, it was a huge step toward independence, and a great confidence-builder for me. This mentor of mine who empowered me by passing on lessons which she had learned from other Federationists has since become one of my closest friends. And that is the most amazing thing about the NFB. We believe in each other, encourage and empower each other. Because we have our Federation family, we don't need the false assertions that we are "amazing."

        The NFB assisted me again as I attended my first national convention and received a scholarship. I had previously traveled on airplanes without my parents a couple of times, but I had always arranged for a sighted friend to meet me at the airport, and I had always taken direct flights. This time, however, I traveled independently through the airports and made arrangements without my parents' help to get to the convention hotel. Why did I do this? Because I knew that there were several thousand other blind people doing the same thing on that very day, and if they could do it, so could I. Federationists I had never even met were empowering me and helping me to believe in myself.

        I have learned through the Federation that we can control our level of empowerment, as well as how others view us, by how we regard ourselves, how much we respect ourselves and each other, and by the degree to which we believe in the worth and ability of blind people. We create mentoring and friendship chains in the NFB. That is why our meetings at conventions, seminars and training centers are always so vibrant with energy and enthusiasm. They give us power and confidence.

        I have found that empowerment is an ongoing process, and a rather slow one. I am still learning what I, as an individual, can do to achieve that goal, but I know that working together as a family we will make strides in the right direction so much more rapidly.