by Penny Reeder
When I was growing up, I could read standard-size print. I couldn’t read it quickly, and I went to great lengths to avoid having to read aloud. Nevertheless, reading was among my greatest pleasures, and I continued to devour books and magazines into adulthood.
As a young adult, my favorite reading materials were hard-cover novels (by that time, reading paperbacks was too much of a challenge in terms of eyestrain and fatigue) and magazines, and my favorite magazines were the grocery-store magazines, like “Woman’s Day” and “Family Circle,” and the so-called “women’s magazines,” including “Redbook” and “McCall’s.” When removal of a cataract also removed the nearsightedness which had allowed me to read print, and I could no longer read those up-to-the-minute magazines, I felt bereft. Who would I turn to, instead of Judith Viorst, Eda LeShan, or Benjamin Spock? How would I know how to garden, or decorate, or improve my relationships with spouse, kids, relatives, friends? Who would share recipes with me? Where would I find out about the latest styles, the “in” colors for the year, whether skirts were long or short or somewhere in between, whether heels were high, toes open, closed, rounded or pointy?
For a long time thereafter, I continued to pick up those grocery-store magazines even though I couldn’t read a word inside their covers. I discovered the Metropolitan Washington Ear, a radio and later dial-in reading service for people who cannot read standard print, where I could at least access the “Style” section of the “Washington Post,” as well as the “Food” section and the grocery-store ads. But, although I still thank “The Ear” for having saved my sanity during those years when I was a stay-at-home mom forced to “read” by listening, not even the radio-reading service could satisfy my hunger for reading those “women’s mags” independently.
Finally, about five years after I had lost the ability to read print, I learned to read braille. Once I had figured out how to decode the dots and find meaning in all the contractions, I subscribed to magazines in braille. Of course, my first braille subscription was to “The Braille Forum!” I also signed up for the “Matilda Ziegler Magazine,” “Talking Book Topics” and “Braille Book Review,” as well as “Parenting” and “Cooking Light.” Reading these periodicals helped me to increase my braille reading speed and my comprehension skills and kept me in touch with blindness issues as well as the latest child-care and cooking trends. But my greatest delight was learning about and subscribing to “Our Special” magazine, a publication specifically for blind women, available from the National Braille Press only in braille, which reprints articles from all those periodicals I had so desperately missed.
In 1930, “Our Special” was founded by Frances B. Ierardi, who was the founder of National Braille Press (NBP); the first issues were edited by Florence W. Birchard. Since that time, “OS” has been the only braille magazine for women, edited for and by blind women.
The editor of “OS” is Dana Nichols, who is the fifth blind woman since the magazine’s founding to serve as its editor. Dana is a member of ACB and, in fact, served a stint on ACB’s board of publications at one time. She is a busy woman, counting among her scheduled work-related obligations, three jobs! She edits “Our Special” with style and flair six times a year. In addition, she teaches English for speakers of other languages at a college in Montgomery, Ala., where she lives, and works as a customer service representative for Delta Airlines.
Dana lost her vision because of a serious illness when she was a high school senior. After taking a few months to learn the skills of blindness, she went on with her life, attending college, majoring in English, and seldom looking back. When she discovered that there wasn’t an especially large demand in the job market for English majors, she went back to school and earned another degree that would give her the skills she needed to change career directions. Ever since, she has had a successful career teaching English to people for whom English is not a primary language.
Dana told me that, after she lost her vision, one of the things she missed most was reading the fashion magazines like “Glamour” and “Mademoiselle.” When she was selected as the editor of “Our Special,” she was determined to include the kind of information one would find in those fashion magazines in her own “special” magazine. In each bi-monthly issue, women can turn to OS to learn about the latest fashions, how to select and care for an up-to-the-minute wardrobe, and how to make the most of one’s assets with appropriate make-up, good health practices, and an upbeat attitude. Dana selects articles about these topics and others that are especially interesting to women from the women’s magazines available on today’s newsstands, including “Rosie,” “Redbook,” “Woman’s Day,” and ‘Woman’s World.”
You can find columns in “OS” that you won’t find in any other braille magazines for women. There are always directions for handicrafts which include patterns and instructions for knitting and crocheting. There’s a column featuring recipes and tips on food preparation, and another that will inform you about the latest products available on the shelves of your grocery and hardware stores. There’s always a poetry column, and responding to readers’ requests, the editor of that column recently announced her intention to include poems written by “OS” readers. There’s a column concerned with hobbies where you can learn how other blind and visually impaired women fill their leisure time.
For years, the first page I turned to in “OS” was the one where “Nell’s Page” began. Nell Taylor, who lives in the U.K., in a small town near the sea, talked freely about what it’s like to live as a blind woman in England. For many years, Nell traveled about with a dog guide but she did not replace her last dog because an increasingly serious hearing loss prevents her from traveling safely with a dog nowadays. Nell gave me glimpses of her life as a young girl, growing up with a father away in the service during World War II. She was the first person I ever felt I “knew” who traveled with a dog guide. And she has continued to serve as an inspiration to me. Just last year, she acquired a Windows-based computer with speech and a braille display and began learning to use it. I hope that when I am in my seventies, I will still be learning new things and sharpening my skills like Nell Taylor.
Just a few days ago, I learned that my favorite columnist, Nell Taylor, has announced her retirement. Never one to leave life’s important decisions to chance, she recruited her own replacement. The OS column which features the perspective of a blind woman living on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean will be written by Julia Kimbell, a 39-year-old deaf-blind woman, the mother of three and the editor of a braille magazine which she founded called “The Animal Magazine.” When my mailman brings the first issue of the new year, I will be eager to meet a new friend who can share an international perspective on blindness and femininity and life in general with me and other OS readers.
There are often articles about gardening, the special concerns of working women, child care, or intriguing ways to recycle household goods. There’s usually at least one short story, and always a column by Dana Nichols, who shares her musings from her “annex.” In addition, there is a “Notices” column, and each of the editors shares her mailing address and invites correspondence from readers. In many ways, a reader of “Our Special” feels more like a part of a family or a sister in a sorority of blind women than a casual reader of a woman’s magazine.
Dana told me that she scans articles in print magazines and decides which to choose or to save for later publication with her boyfriend's help. He is her reader. Together they scan the latest grocery store and newsstand women's magazines; he reads aloud, and Dana makes the crucial decisions about what to save and where to file it. She says that her boyfriend had never read the women's magazines before they began sharing this task together, and he has told her that he enjoys reading these articles even more than reading the standard news and sports magazines he used to read exclusively.
For many years, OS was sent free to any blind woman who requested a subscription. But the costs of mailing and braille production eventually led to National Braille Press’ decision to charge for subscriptions to OS. Every year, NBP sends a free introductory issue of “Our Special” to each young blind woman who graduates from high school, and Diane Croft, Director of Marketing for NBP, told me that she will be pleased to send a sample issue of OS to anyone who may want to take a look before subscribing for herself. You can subscribe to this treasure trove of information and entertainment with a special focus on the needs and interests of blind women for a mere $15 a year. Send your subscription requests to National Braille Press at 88 St. Stephen Street, Boston, MA 02115, or call NBP at (617) 266-6160, or toll free, 1-800-548-7323.
Few would deny that women share a unique set of concerns that can be categorized as “women’s issues.” And women who are blind and visually impaired also share a number of concerns that may be differentiated even further from those of other women. “Our Special” covers all these rather unique perspectives better than any publication I have found since I lost the ability to read standard print. I urge you to get to know Dana Nichols and the other women who volunteer their time and talent to make “Our Special” such an excellent publication, and to become a part of the “OS” family. You’ll be happy that you did. Soon you’ll be eagerly awaiting the latest issue of your own very special magazine every other month and thinking fondly of Frances B. Ierardi, who had the foresight more than 70 years ago to recognize the unique interests of blind women and founded a magazine to address all of them.