Playing With Knives #BATeenCast

The following podcast was recorded for use by customers of Minnesota’s State Services for the Blind. You can get more information about State Services for the Blind and the services it offers by going to www (dot) mnssb (dot) org. (music) Playing with Knives, from Future Reflections, a publication of the National Federation of the Blind by Laura Martinez I was born in the city of Salvatierra in central Mexico. When I was very young I was diagnosed with retinoblastoma, a form of cancer that attacks the retinas. After extensive treatments, I was free from cancer but had become totally blind. In Salvatierra, as in most of Mexico, there was no program to mainstream blind students. My only option was to attend the residential school for the blind in Mexico City. My parents didn't want to send me so far from home, and I didn't want to go to a boarding school. To me it sounded a lot like the hospital, and I'd had too much of hospitals already! Since I was home all day, I spent a lot of time with my mother. Although she was very protective and kept me away from the stove, she wasn't afraid to let me use knives in the kitchen. I would help her cut up fruit and chop vegetables for our meals. Eventually I got my own knife to play with. I used to go outside and practice chopping leaves and twigs. When I was nine years old, my family emigrated to the United States so I could attend school at last. We moved to the town of Silvis, Illinois. I didn't know any English, and I had never been exposed to Braille. I attended a public school that had a resource room for blind students. For the first year I had an interpreter with me in the classroom. By the end of that year I knew enough English to be on my own. With the help of my teacher of the visually impaired (TVI), I learned Braille and got caught up academically. By the time I was twelve I entered junior high school. When I was in high school I transferred to the Illinois School for the Visually Impaired (ISVI) in Jacksonville. I lived away from my family for the first time and got exposed to a lot of things that were new to me. For the first time I was allowed, even encouraged, to use a stove. Cooking on the stove was very exciting to me because it had been forbidden for so long. After I graduated from high school, I knew I still needed to improve my orientation and mobility (O&M) and other skills. I enrolled in the adjustment to blindness program at the Iowa Commission for the Blind. I also started to think seriously about a career. Since I loved cooking and experimenting with foods, I began to do research on culinary schools. To my delight I was accepted at the Cordon Bleu Institute, one of the leading culinary schools in Chicago. I explained in my application that I am blind, but when I went for a tour of the school after my acceptance, the staff seemed shocked to meet me in person. They may have thought that I had some vision, and they were very upset to discover that I am totally blind. I found out later that they fired the senior advisor of student services who accepted me. After my visit, the school threw one roadblock after another in my way. The new advisor of students claimed that they had lost all of my paperwork. I said, "That's not a problem. I have copies of everything." They still came up with excuses about why I wouldn't be able to start in September. They said I had to go in and talk with them, but they kept breaking appointments with me and not returning my calls. Finally I decided I needed help. I contacted Patti Chang, president of the NFB of Illinois. Patti called the national office of the NFB in Baltimore. That same day Charlie Brown, an attorney who is active with the NFB, called the director of the culinary school. The director said she had no idea what was going on and assured him that I was welcome to enter the program. One call from a lawyer was all it took to break down the barriers! When the school was trying to reverse my acceptance, they kept saying, "Our teaching is very visual." The teachers would demonstrate a technique in front of the class, and the students were supposed to learn by watching. I talked to the school about ways to accommodate me, and they hired someone to describe to me everything the instructor was doing. I got most of the books I needed through Learning Ally. Even after I was enrolled in the program, the dean tried to sabotage me. I felt that he wanted me to fail so they could kick me out. In one of my classes, students were assigned to work with partners. I was assigned to partner with a young man who had some cognitive and behavioral problems. He had a very hard time following directions, and sometimes he would walk out in the middle of a project. Because we were partners, we both got blamed for the errors he made, and I failed that course. I did well in my other classes, however, so I passed with a grade point average of 3.7. The program at the Cordon Bleu Institute involves a year of classes, followed by a three-month internship. The school claimed that they couldn't find an internship for me at a restaurant, as they did for my classmates. I ended up doing my internship at the Chicago Lighthouse for the Blind and Visually Impaired, which runs a cafeteria for its students and staff. While I was completing my internship, I met a woman who knew a reporter at the Chicago Tribune. The Tribune ran a story about me. CBS News picked up the story and sent a reporter to film me at the Lighthouse. Along with the reporter and film crew came Charlie Trotter, a world-class chef who ran an exclusive restaurant in Chicago. Charlie Trotter tasted the food I had prepared and said that it was excellent. Then, to my astonishment, he offered me a job on the spot. I learned later that he was dyslexic and had struggled in school because of his disability. He really believed in giving people with disabilities a chance. When he offered me a job I was utterly speechless. Finally I managed to say it would be a great honor to work for him. After I graduated from the institute, I started my job at Charlie Trotter's. I did a little bit of everything in the kitchen. I worked what we called "the hot line," which involved grilling, frying, and sautéing. I made bread, cakes, and fancy pastries. I also made salads and garnishes. When I started on the job, my rehab counselor provided me with an assistant who helped me get oriented. My assistant showed me where things were in the kitchen and helped me label spices and other ingredients in Braille. Since ingredients were constantly being used up and replaced, the job of labeling was never done. I kept a Braille labeler on hand so I could label new supplies as they came in. At first the other chefs were nervous working around me. The kitchen at Charlie Trotter's was very fast-paced, and they were afraid I wouldn't be able to keep up. I reminded them to explain things to me verbally instead of just pointing, and after a while they got used to it. I worked at Charlie Trotter's for two years and eight months. Then, at the end of August 2012, the restaurant closed. As soon as Charlie announced that we would be shutting down, I began to look for another restaurant job. Even with my experience and with Charlie's recommendation, no restaurant wanted to hire me. I taught classes at the Chicago Lighthouse and at Friedman Place, a residence for blind people with additional disabilities. I also have prepared demonstration meals for Whole Foods and catered fundraising dinners for the Animal Rescue League. With my mother and my husband, I plan to open a restaurant of my own in late September. La Diosa Restaurant will be a café that offers fusion dishes, combining French, Mexican, and Italian flavors. Drop in the next time you come to Chicago. Maybe I'll take you on a tour of our kitchen. I have a great collection of knives to show you.