By Ron McCallum
In Robert Louis Stevenson's epic novel Treasure Island, the boy hero, Jim Hawkins, describes Pew, the blind pirate: "He was plainly blind, for he tapped before him with a stick and wore a great green shade over his eyes and nose; and he was hunched as if with age or weakness, and wore a huge old tattered sea-cloak with a hood that made him appear positively deformed. I never saw in my life a more dreadful-looking figure ... I held out my hand, and the horrible, soft-spoken, eyeless creature gripped it in a moment like a vise."
Several pages on, blind Pew is killed. In a vain attempt to escape the pursuing revenue officers, he runs straight at them and is trampled by one of their horses.
A white cane is an important safeguard for persons with varying levels of visual impairment.
This episode is a stark reminder that we blind have been using sticks as mobility aids since ancient times. It also reminds us of the fear of the loss of sight, which was, and perhaps still is, prevalent in the public mind.
It was only after World War I that the white cane was introduced, first designed by James Biggs in 1921 in England. The idea of painting it white was to make it easily visible. It became popular because of the many soldiers blinded during the war.
In 1964, a joint resolution of the United States Congress authorised the president, Lyndon B. Johnson, to designate October 15 as the country's first national white cane safety day. In 2011, President Barack Obama also named October 15 as "Blind Americans Equality Day". Gradually, October 15 has become known as International White Cane Day.
My white cane is an extension of my fingers. It enables me to travel to and from work and to play my part as a citizen in our nation. Through its tip, I feel the softness of grass, the clicks of the picket fence of our home, and the roughness of the surfaces that are often placed before ascending and descending steps. Without it to guide me, I can't safely go anywhere by myself outside our home.
Some of my blind colleagues have seeing-eye dogs to assist with mobility. Others use electronic sonic aids. Many of us also use mobility apps on our phones, which tell us our exact locations. For me, the white cane is still my best and most long-lasting aid.
It is not fully appreciated that many white-cane users actually have some usable vision. At times this has left my sisters and brothers who have very limited vision open to discrimination. I have been totally blind since birth and have used a white cane since my childhood. I can recall only one incident of poor behaviour directed towards my blindness, which occurred when a bus driver suggested that I should catch a later bus instead of getting into his vehicle.
At Vision Australia, we asked readers of our client newsletter whether they had faced discrimination as white-cane users. We had more than 300 responses. We learnt that 55 per cent of responding white-cane users have experienced negative comments and behaviour while using a white cane in the community.
Three out of four of those who had been discriminated against had this experience in a shop, cafe or restaurant. More than half of these respondents who had suffered this behaviour had this experience while travelling on public transport.
Of course, this survey is not scientific and would not stand up to social science scrutiny. It is best viewed as a sample. However, it does give us much food for thought.
First and foremost, it is essential for the public to realise that not all white-cane users are totally blind. Particularly in our large cities with their fast-flowing traffic, a white cane is an important safeguard for persons with varying levels of visual impairment.
Second, the white cane notifies pedestrians and drivers that we are blind or have little vision, and that we request your patience and understanding. It is a talisman that keeps us safe. It is a visible emblem that explains our limited or total loss of vision.
On Thursday, International White Cane Day, please look out for us walking along streets, sitting next to you on public transport, or laughing in a cafe queue as we wait for our coffee or tea.
Ron McCallum AO is an emeritus professor and former dean of law, University of Sydney. He is a director of the Vision Australia Board and a former chairman of the United Nations Committee on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities.