At KJones, it's funny that structured discovery was mentioned and is now a major point in this discussion. I have, ever since I was very little, had a paralyzing fear of getting lost, to the point where, even if I'm with a sighted person and they're lost, I panic. Of course, now that I'm an adult, I know better than to show it, but this has definitely been a barrier for me to becoming a super efficient traveler. That, plus the fact I've always struggled with understanding cardinal directions, makes me wonder whether someone like me would benefit from structured discovery. It seems a lot like throwing someone who can't swim in the deep end with concrete blocks on their feet, and telling them they have 30 seconds to get them off or a hungry pihrana will be set upon them.
The first time I heard about these methods was in a book, an autobiography, actually, I read when I was a teenager about a guy who was in a car accident, hit by a drunk driver, and lost his sight. He had gone to an NFB training center after his recovery. A lot of the details were glossed over for the sake of space, I suppose, but he talked about THE DROP. That's in all caps because it literally sounds terrifying to me. If there was a punctuation symbol which denotes a deep scary voice, I would totally use it right now. Now, granted, I did understand that this is something they do at the end of your training, and that it's a graduation requirement, but I imagine that the training itself is like that anyway.
Interestingly, I was also listening to a podcast yesterday about exposure therapy, and when and how it should be used and so on. I obviously don't expect these instructors to be mental health professionals, but I wonder what they would do if someone was in that type of scenario where mishandling of their mental state would make all the difference between success and failure? Because, while exposure therapy is effective if done right, and with the proper set of tools at your disposal to make it more bearable, it also could go very wrong. I'm reminded strongly of a show I watched on either Discovery or maybe TLC when I was 10 or so. This woman had a phobia of germs, so the so-called psychologist made her go around and touch every dirty surface she saw for an entire day, and she wasn't allowed to wash her hands once. This, of course, for maximum primetime drama, had to include her going into a deliberately disgusting public bathroom, using it, and not washing her hands. I hope I'm imagining the part where she ate a sandwich afterwards, but I can't escape the thought that I wouldn't remember that if it weren't true. In any case, it stuck with me through all these years, because, in addition to it being utterly revolting, I believed for a very long time that that's what exposure therapy entailed, because that was the purpose of the show. My friend, who's in graduate school to become a psychologist, finally dispelled this for me several months ago, then I just happened to stumble on that podcast yesterday as I said.
This actually does have to do with limitations. A sighted person who experiences anxiety about getting lost may, in theory, avoid getting themselves into situations where this could happen, but they would have options we don't, namely always following familiar routes and/or relying heavily, even unhealthily, on GPS and/or friends, partners, or relatives who they trust to be with them in unfamiliar areas as a shield. I don't know if this is a fear that would even be experienced the same way by a sighted person, though, because at least they can more quickly orientate themselves with landmarks, street signs, etc. that they can scan in their environment. I do get that not all people are good with directions, and that of course you can still get lost even if you have 20/20 vision, but I believe that having the more immediate input from your eyes would at least be somewhat calming. That may be me saying that the grass is greener, because obviously I've never asked anyone this. It's not exactly something you'd bring up in casual conversation.
Anyway, in addition to that personal anecdote that I'm sure nobody wanted to know, there are some inherent limitations with blindness. I would tend to agree that not driving is a huge one, but self-driving cars are becoming safer all the time. I would jump at the chance to have one, even though I know it wouldn't be the same, and I might always yearn for the experience that sighted people have when they drive a bit. I'll take embracing the future over never being able to operate a vehicle at all, though.
The glass is neither half empty nor half full. It's just holding half the amount it can potentially hold.