The Blessing of Empowerment Begins at Home

By Rabbi Michael Levy, Board Member of
Yad HaChazakah and Director of Travel Training, NYCT

In Balak, this week’s Torah portion, Bilaam’s blessings to Israel (albeit reluctant) begin with “How goodly are your tents, O Jacob, your dwelling places, O Israel” (Numbers 24, 5.)    My blessings, as a very young child, began when my parents decided that in our home, I would be treated just like my brother and sister, to the greatest extent possible.

Last week, on June 14, I shared my “blindness” experiences and my parents’ courage with the parents of 18 blind Orthodox Jewish children. Visions, a blindness rehabilitation agency, had gathered the families for a free “kosher weekend” in a beautiful camp environment, to help them begin the journey towards rehabilitation and independence.

After the shock of discovering that I was blind, my parents moved on to take hundreds of “age-appropriate” small steps, day by day, to lead me to an empowered independent life.

The predominant theme was that life was fun and exciting.  I ducked under waves, slid down snowhills in “flying saucers,” lit the fireplace, and shpritzed milk all over myself when my brother made me laugh.  I lay on top of a wide wooden fence, so that half of me was in Belmar and half of me was in Spring Lake.

At age 3, I fell on the sidewalk.  My parents saw their disabled child cry, but they let me explore the sidewalk again, then the back yard, and of course the mysterious attic.  After mobility training at age 12, I walked alone to school (my mother followed me only the first time.).  As a teenager, I rather liked walking in solitude on the boardwalk, thinking deep adolescent thoughts. By age 18, I was choosing which college to attend.

I cracked an egg too violently, splattering the kitchen floor.  I lost at cards and checkers.  A disabled child who is never allowed to fail never learns to move past his frustration and try again.  Whether it’s davening for the amud or swimming, the first time you do it (disabled or not) is much harder than the 123rd time.

“Don’t you ever contradict your father in public.”  My parents taught me many rules, doing their best to make me a mentsch.  I sometimes resisted, and was disciplined just like my siblings.  That’s how you learn to obey G-d—-and your boss.

Guided by JBI International and the New Jersey Commission for the Blind, my parents found the communications and skill-building resources to help me get along in a sighted world.  By eighth grade, I began to be responsible for planning—-inquiring about the textbooks to be brailled for the upcoming fall.  It doesn’t seem fair that you have to plan so far ahead because you’re disabled, but that’s how it is.

If there’s courage here, it belongs to my parents.  They fought off the stereotypical messages condemning the disabled to special lives of dependence and lack of productivity.  They proved their belief that the perceived “curse” of disability can be transformed into a life overflowing with genuine blessings.