My Home Away from Home

Table of Contents

About the Author

Other Books by Robert T. Branco

Introduction

Ch. 1: Preparation and Evaluation

Ch. 2: Welcome to Perkins School

Ch. 3: The School Curriculum

Ch. 4: Things That Make You Go Hmmm

Ch. 5: Fun and Fury

Ch. 6: Religion, Health, Safety, and Adventure

Ch. 7: The Trip to Cape Cod

Ch. 8: Introduction to the Upper School

Ch. 9: Mobility Training

Ch. 10: Sex, Relationships, and More Changes

Ch. 11: Discipline, Disrespect, and More Changes

Ch. 12: Sports, Socials, and Recreation

Ch. 13: Clubs and Organizations

Ch. 14: A Closer Look at Mr. Smith

Ch. 15: The High School Curriculum

Ch. 16: Technology in the Seventies

Ch. 17: The Darker Side of Perkins

Ch. 18: Beyond Blindness

Ch. 19: Going Places

Ch. 20: Life in the Cottage

Ch. 21: Independent Living

Ch. 22: Anticipation and Conclusions

Ch. 23: Goodbye to Perkins

A Final Note of Appreciation

About the Author

Robert Theodore Branco is a life–long resident of New Bedford, Massachusetts. Legally blind since birth, Robert attended sight–saving classes in the public school system until his parents learned of the Perkins School for the Blind.

This book tells of Robert’s experiences during his eight years at the Perkins School and will provide you with an understanding of some of what life was like for a young man growing up without total vision in a sighted world.

After graduating from Perkins, Robert went on to attend Bristol Community College and then the University of Massachusetts Dartmouth. He studied Business Administration at Bristol College, earning an Associate’s degree, and Finance at UMass, earning a Bachelor’s degree.

Robert’s working experience has been quite varied. He has been a health benefits counselor, a customer service representative, the manager of an automotive parts department, and the receptionist at a construction company.

Currently, Robert is the publisher of The Consumer Vision Magazine, and the president of a bowling league for disabled persons.

You can reach Bob by e–mail at: [email protected]

Phone: 508–994–4972

Other books by Robert T. Branco

Publication information update December 2015. More details are at http://www.dvorkin.com/robert/branco/

As I See It: From a Blind Man's Perspective (2013)

Here, the author discusses a broad spectrum of topics relating to blindness, including discrimination, myths, adaptive technology, training, legislation, and more.

From Amazon: $10 in paperback, $3.99 as an e–book for Kindle.

Available in other e−book formats form Apple, Kobo, Barnes and Noble, and Smashwords.

What We Love to Eat (2012)

This is a cookbook containing recipes that were all submitted by blind contributors.

The book is available in large print, audio CD, and Braille formats.

All sales benefit The Consumer Vision Magazine.

To order in any format, please make out a check for $10 to Consumer Vision and mail it to:

Bob Branco

359 Coggeshall St.

New Bedford, MA 02746

Weighing Things Up (2014)

This is Bob Branco’s fourth published book. It includes 30 essays on issues pertaining to blindness and the blind, then another 73 short essays having to do with bureaucracy, holidays, legislation, politics, sports, scams, technology, and social issues. Numerous editor’s notes and links to articles add more information and occasionally a different point of view.

From Amazon: $13.95 in paperback, $3.99 as an e–book for Kindle.

Available in other e−book formats from Apple, Kobo, Barnes and Noble, and Smashwords.

Introduction

This book is about eight of the most important years of my life. Just like anyone else between the ages of 12 and 19, I had a lot to learn about growing up. However, contrary to what most pre–teens and teens experience, I lived those eight years at Perkins School for the Blind, in Watertown, Massachusetts, 65 miles from my home.

In the book, I talk about our academic classes, our teachers and other adults at the school, the many kids who became my friends and others who made friendship impossible, the several sports we pursued, all the rules we were supposed to follow and how radically they were sometimes broken, some of the fascinating field trips we took and new technology that we explored, the ways in which the school tried to prepare us for independent living, and much more. As you will read, there were plenty of both good and bad times.

It is also important to note that I was at Perkins during the entire directorship of the only visually impaired chief administrator Perkins ever had, Mr. Ben Smith. My classmates and I watched in almost unanimous approval as he changed many of the school's long–lasting policies.

I decided to write this book because I continuously tell my friends about my adventures during those years, and I used to kid around that I could write a book, because there was so much information for me to share. Finally, I took the plunge and decided to write my experiences down, so I could share them with the world.

I hope that my story puts a unique perspective on what it's like for any teenager, blind or sighted, to live away from home for eight years. I certainly hope that the sighted, as well as the blind, will enjoy and appreciate my story.

I would like to thank my editor, Leonore H. Dvorkin, for working closely with me. I am grateful to her for completely understanding both the nature and the aim of this book. See the end of the book for more about the editing and publishing services that she and her husband offer.

I would also like to thank Ross Chartoff for his role in helping me to assemble and submit the required components of this book.

Bob Branco

New Bedford, Massachusetts

February 2013

Chapter 1

Preparation and Evaluation

For the first five years of my education, I attended a sight–saving class in my city, New Bedford, Massachusetts. In the 1960’s, sight–saving classes were quite popular. Children with visual impairments would be in the same classroom with one another, and where the class sizes were so small, the kids received a lot of individual attention. The teacher tried her best to work with the students, knowing the situation that each of us had to deal with.

Of all the students in the sight–saving class, I probably needed more attention than the others, only because I couldn’t read the large–print material that was available for everyone else. Though I had usable travel vision — that is, enough vision for getting around — I couldn’t read the printed text. As a result, a Braille tutor came to my class for one hour each day in order to teach me Braille. I would bring my school desk out into the corridor with my tutor, and we would work on the Braille alphabet first. Then we progressed to Grade Two Braille, Braille math, and other accessible tools, including tactile maps for learning geography.

You’re probably wondering how I spent the rest of my school day without my Braille tutor. The regular teacher tried her best to include me in what the other students were working on, but she was limited in what she could do because I couldn’t read print. However, once I had learned Braille, and because I was able to get Braille copies of the same reading books that my classmates had, I was included in some of the reading lessons, as I could follow along. During those times when the teacher didn’t include me in the lessons, I spent time practicing Braille, coloring, or doing other projects.

I found my school experience quite rewarding, and for several years, I enjoyed the routine of getting up in the morning, having breakfast, taking the bus to school, spending the day with my classmates, and then riding home on the bus.

In the winter of 1969, my parents were informed that the State of Massachusetts could no longer accommodate me at my school. I was 11 years old at the time, and did not ask too many questions about what my parents were told. However, my mother informed me that I might have to leave home and attend a private school for the blind. Needless to say, my parents and I were against the decision, but we knew that in order for me to continue with my education, we’d have to abide by it. I was so involved in my school routine and in my home life that it had never occurred to me that it could all come to an abrupt end. I simply went through the motions. Likewise, when I had to do something in preparation for my new life at the private school, I simply went along with it.

By March of 1969, it was practically a done deal. In September, I would be going to the Perkins School for the Blind in Watertown, Massachusetts. All I knew about Perkins was that blind children of all ages went there, and that they had to live on campus if it was too far for them to go home in the evenings. I would have to live on campus and come home on weekends, because Perkins was 65 miles away.

Once everyone had agreed upon and accepted this decision, including my parents, my Braille tutor, and my teacher, plans were made to introduce me to life at Perkins. On Sunday, March 23, 1969, my mother, my tutor, and my teacher took me to the Perkins annual Open House, where the students would participate in academic and extracurricular activities to show the general public what the school was like.

The Open House took place in the main classroom building, and the tour took approximately one hour. We observed blind children reading English, reading a foreign language, making arts and crafts, working in the wood and metal shops, performing physical education exercises, swimming, sewing, playing games, and more. For anyone who didn’t know that blind children could do such things, it was a real education. My mother, even though she was trying to hide her tears at the prospect of my going to live at Perkins several months from then, was happy to see what the school did for its children. The Open House was the primary example of that.

The next step was to find the right fit for me in a Perkins classroom. On Tuesday, April 29, 1969, my mother and my Braille tutor drove me to Perkins, where I would spend the day at school. In my opinion, the reason was twofold. I think that the Perkins school principal needed to find out what grade to assign me to in the fall, while at the same time, I would be introduced to the Perkins routine.

When I arrived on campus, I was taken to the sixth–grade classroom and participated in whatever the lesson was for that day. Though the teacher and the students were very nice and respectful, I felt uneasy, both because this was a brand–new experience and because I knew that this experience was not a one–shot deal. This was going to be my life for the foreseeable future.

After spending one hour in the classroom, I had lunch in one of the cottages where the boys lived, Potter Cottage. I met the housemother in charge, and I was taken to the dining room, where she picked out a chair for me. There was a boy on each side of me, and the housemother introduced me to them. I was thinking, Who knows? These boys could be two of my best friends someday.

After lunch, I was taken to the playground outside of Potter Cottage. The boys had a brief recess before they began their afternoon school session, so many took advantage of the free time by playing on the seesaw, swinging on the swings, roller skating on the skating rink, or bowling. I decided to bowl with one of the boys. The bowling lane consisted of two long wooden sides, and in the back were 10 bowling pins, which we were taught to arrange ourselves. We were able to do that because below each pin was a large, tactile marble dot indicating where the pin should go. The wooden sides were erected in case the bowling ball didn’t go straight down the lane. The ball would bounce off one of the sides and head back for the pins.

After bowling, it was time to go home. Afterwards, I didn’t spend too much time thinking about my experience during my evaluation, and I didn’t wonder where the school principal would assign me in the fall. I wasn’t thinking that far ahead. All I knew was that the next day I would be back in my sight–saving class, continuing with the routine that I knew and enjoyed.

Two days after my evaluation, I came home from school only to be informed that I had to go for a blood test. In the back of my mind, I knew it had something to do with my preparation for Perkins, but once it was over, I didn’t give it much thought.

Chapter 2

Welcome to Perkins School

Throughout the remainder of the spring of 1969 and into the summer, I lived life from day to day, doing the things that I enjoyed. In late June, I spent my very last day in the sight–saving class, knowing full well that I was going to a new school in September. I knew it in my head, but I was too busy enjoying life to know it in my heart. My mother and I tried to avoid the subject as much as possible, unless there was a need to bring it up.

For example, the housemothers at Perkins wanted the children’s clothing to be labeled with their names, so that each article of clothing could be identified. My mother had to make up the labels and sew them to the articles of clothing. We had to discuss where the labels were located, particularly on pants, shirts, socks, galoshes, etc. At times, my mother and I also discussed other items I should take with me to Perkins, things with which I could pass the time, such as crayons and paper to draw on. Little did we know that there wasn’t going to be enough time at Perkins for me to dabble in coloring.

Two weeks before it was time for me to leave home and go to Perkins, the reality of it all set in, and I did a lot of crying when I realized that I wouldn’t continue to live life the way I was used to. I tried not to mention why I was so sad, but I’m sure it was obvious to my mother and everyone else. Then I started to think about my new life. What kind of friends would I meet? Would the housemothers be like my real mother? Would the teachers be as nice as the ones from the sight–saving class in New Bedford? However, I knew that I would be living in Potter Cottage with a lot of other boys, so I felt I’d make friends quickly.

On Sunday afternoon, September 7, 1969, I walked out of my house with my mom and several other relatives, suitcase in hand, as we prepared for the drive to Perkins School. The one consolation I felt at that moment was that I wouldn’t be staying at Perkins all the time. I would come home on weekends. Here is the routine that we established. Every Friday afternoon, a taxi would take me from the campus to the bus station in Boston, where I would board a bus for home. A very nice Upper School boy accompanied me, because he happened to live in the town next to New Bedford. Either my mother or someone else would meet me at the bus terminal every Friday evening. On Sunday afternoons, my father was able to drive me to Perkins, where I usually arrived an hour before supper.

My family and I arrived at the Perkins campus at approximately 4:00 that Sunday afternoon, and suddenly the major adjustment period in my life had begun.

There were two sections of Perkins, the Lower School and the Upper School. Children who attended elementary school stayed in the Lower School, while junior high and high school students stayed in the Upper School. I was to be a Lower School student.

As you walked into the Lower School courtyard, you would see two cottages on your left and two cottages on your right. The first cottage on the left was called Anagnos, named after the founder of the Perkins Kindergarten, Michael Anagnos. Anagnos Cottage consisted of young boys and girls. Many were in the lower grades, and some had special needs. The next cottage was Potter, the one I would be living in. The boys who lived in Potter were usually in grades four, five, and six, but occasionally a few third–graders were invited if there was room. The first cottage on the right–hand side of the Lower School courtyard was Bradlee, which housed both boys and girls, usually from kindergarten through second grade. The next cottage was Glover, which housed the older girls, grades four through six, but also a few third–graders.

Each cottage had its own porch, which connected the cottage with a schoolhouse. The Anagnos and Bradlee schoolhouses were located south of their cottages, and the Potter and Glover schoolhouses were located north of their cottages. With this particular setup, the children didn’t have to walk too far to go to school. Given that boys and girls were in the same classes, many of the Glover girls went to the Potter schoolhouse, while many of the Potter boys went to the Glover schoolhouse. The same applied to the Anagnos and Bradlee schoolhouses.

To put it all in perspective, the entire cottage/schoolhouse combination was all joined together by either a corridor or a porch. This proved to be convenient in bad weather, because none of the kids needed to be exposed to the cold, the rain, or the snow as they traveled to and from school.

The one other feature in the Lower School that I’d