Boxes . . .

No matter what the circumstances are, when you find yourself continuously floating between two worlds never being quite being accepted or rejected by either, it can test your resilience, no matter how great your courage. Ultimately it can simply leave you feeling less than whole and at the worst of times utterly and hopelessly alone.

In my personal experience, being registered as ‘severely sight impaired’ or ‘blind’, as a label, box or ‘disability’ (a word I detest for it’s overuse and convenient society-pleasing application), is in direct conflict with how I have chosen to live my life, due in part to society’s own somewhat impaired vision and thoroughly outdated way in which it views how a blind person should be.

As a consequence of being proud to be an anomaly, for 30 odd years I’ve found myself never quite being accepted by either others similar to me or those with regular vision.

I wonder why this aspect of having a difference to the majority or ‘disability’ to use the detested word is something that hardly ever seems to be discussed; if at all. The ‘no-man’s-land’.

On the one hand it is an undeniable compliment when people are genuinely unaware until it may have to be discussed. On the other it can be hideous and on occasion honestly soul-destroying when people accuse you of being a fraud and a fake and ‘putting it on’!?

My eye-sight may be impaired but my vision is not! Not fitting a stereotype or a convenient box and conforming to a societal ideal and consequently generating at times negative attention is nothing new. In this circumstance however, my ability to remain passive is itself becoming impaired! It seems increasingly that empathy is no longer an emotional capacity, but a dying art form.

The focus in my experience, has in the main appeared to be on what I may be unable or am actually unable to do. There still seems to be a fixation on a ‘can’t-do’ attitude rather than ‘can-do’. Subsequently I believe this contributes to the outdated stereotype of being blind and in turn when you don’t appear to fit this box, you are simply therefore a ‘fraud’.

After nearly 19 years in full time education, with all its associated challenges and possibly a few extra in my case, I jumped through these traditional hoops with a fair amount of success and collected all the relevant pieces of paper to show for it. Following this I’ve also been blessed enough to acquire further and more colourful skills in music, fencing, riding and dance to name a few.

However, this has all come with a cost. Knowing always that seeded amongst all the incredible love, support and encouragement from so many, there are those that would and will continue to evoke the spectre of that stereotype. The almost bitter ‘well you’re not really blind then are you?!’ comment. It steals and degrades any sense of pride. It erodes self-worth and most soul-destroying of all is the crippling sense of guilt. You find yourself smiling calmly and ignoring it outwardly and yet screaming inside “Where. Do. I. Fit?!” With a condition that is degenerative this is doubly painful. I’ve always lived with the attitude of ‘do it NOW!’ That’s not to say I couldn’t find ways to continue or try new things with no sight, but the little I have left is so precious and not to push this gift to its limits and respect it while it remains, to me seems a crime. And yet the crime appears to be being different from said societal ideal.

Forgive me for pointing out the obvious, but I am literally in all but a few exceptions blind to ‘disability’. I can’t usually physically ‘see’ if someone is ‘disabled’. To me, they are a unique person.

My name is Ruth, I am a person and I am not defined by my level of sight. Just like you, I am defined by one common ground that unites every single one of us; my difference. Don’t put me in a box!

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Fencing – The Wellington Open 15/05/16

Three years ago this weekend, this would have been my first experience of an open fencing competition. In this case familiarity only breeds greater affection each year and I think this will always be my favourite open being the sentimental soul I am!

In 2015 I was equal third in the Women’s Foil, winning my first medal in fencing. With a larger number of entries this year, in fact almost the same number as the first year I went I set out with an open mind in terms of a repeat achievement.

After what seemed like an endless blur and merging of hotel rooms from Birmingham to Bath and one long, never-ending train journey since the end of March, it almost felt too blissfully easy to wake up at home and pull on my kit, albeit eyes half shut at 5am! Then just over an hour and a half in a car with a few good friends to the venue.

Passing around the promised home-made lemon-drizzle cake – strictly to Truro fencers only! – I plugged into the warm-up play-list through an espresso-induced buzz-haze and began stretching. As usual the weather was absolutely glorious outside so not breaking with tradition, after checking in, I went for a few laps round the outside of the gym hoping I’ve remembered where and how many steps there are!

No arguments with random forgotten steps, I found my way back to the ‘Truro camp’, kitted-up and my checked foils. Putting new tape on a blade, it struck me how everything felt so wonderfully familiar and even the smallest things like knowing exactly where all the doors were and the toilets, changing rooms etc. makes such a huge difference. As well as already having a good idea of how the lighting will affect the level of vision I have on the piste; all these things that can distract my attention from focusing on a competition itself were here, suddenly I realised, with the familiarity a happy irrelevance!

Overall, I won half my fights in each of the two poules which gave me a ‘by’ into the last eight, meaning I had to win my first direct elimination (DE) in order to win a bronze medal. Somehow though, I’d convinced myself, probably as there were more fencers and my mind tends to dissolve at the hint of anything remotely mathematical, that I had to win the second DE for a bronze! In actual fact on reflection, this probably helped my focus in what would be my last DE and final fight of the day.

No advance on bronze this year then, but still another bronze (if initially an ‘oblivious’ medal!) more invaluable experience, and great memories with friends to treasure. See you all next year!

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Riding at the RDA County Day 2016

It must be 20 plus years since I’ve got up in the morning and put ‘uniform’ on! Tie included! Something weirdly, intensely familiar and yet distant at the same time. Managing to pin my stock tie just to my shirt this time and not make it a permanent attachment to me as well, as I plaited my hair, I ran through the pattern I’d created in my mind of the dressage test I was doing for the millionth time. How many times I’d walked it round the living room I’d lost count but the ‘square safety pin with fast sides’ was firmly ingrained in my mind’s eye.

As I wait for my friend to pick me up, it all still felt extremely surreal. I’d only had about 4 dressage lessons and two of those were rehearsing this test. I’ll never forget our conversation on the phone after my first lesson. Along the lines of “have you ever done a dressage competition? Would you like to?” and me, being me of course I said “I’d love to!” and that was about 5 weeks previously! Now I’m off to ride a horse I’ve never ridden before, in a school I’ve never walked round or even seen before, at RDA County Day?! And be judged on my test?! My friend’s faith in me blows my mind!

My nerves are stilled and confidence boosted as we arrive and everyone comments on how smart I look which was a huge relief and quite gratifying after many hours watching the intricacies of stock-tie tying on-line and accompanied ‘decorative’ language!
Meeting other riders and staff from our school whom I’ve never met before was a really wonderful experience. Waiting for our times in the arena we all headed for a cup of tea and a patch of grass in the sun and I almost forgot why I was there! It was so refreshing to be around so many enthusiastic and talented people of varying age and with so many different levels of ability as well as not being the only registered blind rider.

How it got from 9am to 1pm so rapidly I have no idea but suddenly after aching to be on a horse all day, I was sorting out my stirrups! Or trying to – I’m convinced after 5 years of riding, if only a month of dressage, that I just have completely uneven legs! Stirrups sorted I work though the test and get to know Tabby the beautiful pony I’m working with. Extremely good at a ‘square halt’ although she decided that she enjoyed halting rather a lot! Using everything I’ve learned over the years I managed to ask her to move again an eventually sorted out a method of getting her going again after the halt-part in the test.

As we walk up to the inside arena from the warm-up area the sun is beating down and it almost feels cold as we enter to many “good luck” shouts from our school. The smell of the damp sand and my pony is calming and I let her rhythm move my legs and hips, sinking into my saddle. I walk down to introduce myself to the judges and as I do try to note some kind of marker for the centre line and get a good idea of the contrast of the white corner markets against what looks like to me a cocoa-coloured sand.

Warming up with an even walk and a few circles I tried to keep my heartbeat in time with her pace. As the judges rang the bell, I felt a prickle of adrenaline but deep-breathed it away and entered down the centre line. The first trot worried me a little as I was obviously a little more stiff than I’d anticipated but I forced my shoulders back to where they should have been and it evened out by the time we slowed to a walk again. After the square halt, Tabby moved off beautifully, no problems with not wanting to go again! I think I relaxed completely then and the second trot was much smoother. Walking down the centre line for the salute at the end of the test, I suddenly felt the adrenaline creeping up my knees in waves and into the pit of my stomach. As I smiled and turned Tabby to leave the arena I realised I was crying! Completely overwhelmed by what we’d just done! Truly an awesome feeling! Ah well, can’t help being the hopeless sentimental I am and I think perhaps it even appealed to the judges too!

Oblivious as to how I might have done, I found a spot on the grass in the sun with friends as we waited for the next categories to finish and the results to be put up. About half an hour later, mid conversation with my friend, one of the staff from our school broke in to say that my friend had come 3rd and I’d come 1st in our category. How many times I said “pardon?” must have sounded ridiculous! I just didn’t believe her!! I felt tears prickling again! Mixed with uncontrollable giggles!

As the presentations drew to a close, and we were all beginning to grab bags and hats and escaped gloves etc. my friend took my arm and said “put your bag down a minute!”. Bemused I did and she walked me over to where the organisers were still standing at the presentation table. Apologising profusely, I was handed a trophy and given a huge round of applause for what turned out to be the highest overall test score in the county?! Speechless except of course for a very stunned “thank you very much” I really couldn’t utter a word for about ten minutes! There may have been some Moët when I got home!

In my humble opinion days like that are rare and beautiful and mean the world because of all the people who are part of them. What an incredible opportunity and experience and one which will be with me always. Thank you so very much RDA Chiverton!

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British Fencing Senior Nationals 16/04/16

Arriving almost in the dark at the hotel in East London, having navigated my way (without any hiccups so far!) from home, plus all the fencing kit still intact and not got myself lost on the DLR, I wandered round the car park looking for the way in! As it began to rain I was so exhausted I had no option but to giggle at myself. “This is Bristol all over again!” I thought! “I manage to get all the way here, however many hundred miles, then I can’t find the door!” Five minutes more bumbling and I’d managed to find the right door and check in.

After meeting up with a close friend, we sat in my room after breakfast the next day chatting and re-taping blades having decided not to navigate the DLR back to the venue but share a taxi. As the taxi pulled up I think we both had a rush of adrenaline and for me the thought process began from there.

Having tried as long as I could to see this as ‘any other competition’ as we arrived at the venue I gave up on that mantra! For anyone I think, a step up like this in any situation is going to make you learn a lot about yourself and massively quickly. The numbers of fencers there was probably the first thing that hit me – my only previous experience of so many of us in one place was The Excalibur in Bath last year (and also this year the weekend after the Nationals). As we trundled ourselves and our kit between wires and weapons, around feet and up uneven steps, I noted the ‘smell’ of a competition too.

I realised for the first time that that adds to my adrenaline! Strange or not the smell of the tape on the floor, the wooden floors themselves, the bitter-sweet fencing-only damp kit smell, all of it so subliminally familiar yet for some reason today so intense. As we checked-in I was humbled by the reaction of the staff at the desk who recognised who I was and I didn’t have to explain about my vision. Blushing as one lady sang my praises, I now also have it on authority that I am the only blind fencer to have entered the British Nationals! That did a lot to shoot the adrenaline up a notch!

The hall we were fencing in was at the end of a long, blue (in my mind) corridor from where we make our camp. To my relief the lighting was far less intense in there, although sadly the pistes were carpet and not aluminium – less scope for figuring out opponents’ footwork as clearly, but still. The organisation was as slick as Birmingham but much quicker! Barely had time to get through two Led Zeppelin tracks on the play-list before my friend showed me which piste my poule was on. Piste 21 – it’s stuck in my memory! 6 fights.

Remembering to breathe, just about as I plugged in, I was haunted by the dreaded “what on EARTH am ‘I’ doing here?!?!?”. Battling it away I pushed my shoulders back and down, settled into en guarde position and took a deep breath. “I’m here. Full stop.” I tell my panicking head. The first hit, of my first fight at the first Nationals I’ve been to, was mine! It shocked and delighted me at the same time. I planned it, I set it up, I made it work and (unusually for me) it was an attack, not a point in defence! I’d aimed for at least a point in each poule fight, if not to win one. Sadly, no win but a point or more in most of them. The poules seemed to vanish all too quickly after the initial “why am I here?!” panic. There was just time to catch up with my friend for a brief coffee and to top up the banana-and-dark-chocolate energy before the DE’s were called and we went to find the right piste.

I really did want to win that DE so badly. I poured it all out and gave it every last bit or me. The four points I ended up with I worked my hardest for. Another 11 next year and that would be me into the last 64. We’ll see!

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Birmingham International 26/03/2016

First fencing competition of 2016 and it feels like a lifetime since my last (the Welsh in November) and like yesterday at the same time.
The venue itself was easy enough to find – and no arguments with doors! Fascinatingly, the sports complex is like a maze over two floors!

Unfazed – I’ve begun to find this initial part of a previously un-entered competition almost a calming ‘ritual’ now – I use it as part of the adrenaline-build. The organisers were absolutely fantastic, one of them extremely kindly walked me round the entire venue, showing me all the halls I may be fencing in and giving me time to make all-important landmarks with colours, numbers of steps, counting doors etc.
Playlist firmly plugged into ears in a relatively deserted hall, both myself and a close friend simultaneously warm up. Unspoken language between me not ‘seeing’ and neither of us hearing over headphones, superstitions, rituals and thought processes begin. And of course the dark chocolate, for me at least!

It’s fluent this time, no waiting and before I could think about last minute tape or where the Allen key is I’m plugged in. Weirdly, the first time I’ve not had nerves and actually found myself wanting, needing more adrenaline. Although in some ways an advantage, the measured aggression needed just wouldn’t materialise.

The poules flew – overall, I achieved more in points than the Bristol Open which was a similar level event, but for my personal standards and aims I was pretty unsatisfied with my fencing and determined to give the DE my all. And did!
No medals this time again, but achieving a point more than at Bristol was something to take home. Along with a wealth of experience than can only be gained from doing.

Within 24 hours of being home, I’ve stuck to my promise to myself and between a mixture of the “what an Earth am I doing??!” and the “just do it!” I’ve entered the British National Championships this April and as I waited for the page to load with the foil entries, even just seeing my name there gave me butterflies!

So, next stop, London 16/04/16.

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Cornwall Dance School Christmas Show 13/12/15: Scrooge – a contemporary Christmas Carol (Princess Pavilions Falmouth)

From beginning to end, the dance show itself, the process of practise, rehearsal and even ending up waking myself up literally dancing in my sleep, will always be one of my most beautiful and treasured memories.

The first dance show I’ve ever been in and after only ten months dancing, I really don’t think I let the gravity of it speak to me until the night I got home after it was all over. And it was all over in a heartbeat, far too quickly.

We began learning a new at the beginning of term in September and I remember loving the music and the opening steps immediately, even it for some reason my body was utterly determined to spin the wrong way for some inexplicable reason!
Spin conquered, not before various arguments with my living room furniture a few weeks into term we were asked if we’d like to be in the Christmas Show. Well, I think my face just did one of those uncontrollable, fixed smiles that comes from somewhere that your inner child hides!

Beyond destroying furniture, or more usually it winning, I was so determined to get the routine the best I possibly could, any opportunity that presented itself became irresistible! Even as the gym would be emptying out at the end of fencing this was too much of a tempting practise space! Many confused expressions I’m sure!

Rehearsal day arrived so quickly and walking into the hall where usually only our group dances to find it absolutely packed was pretty exciting and yes, just a bit nerve-wracking! With a smaller space to dance than normal my biggest fear was kicking my friend in the face! Fortunately for her that didn’t happen . . . (this time!)

I had butterflies from the moment I woke up the morning of the show and literally jumped out of bed – my inner child in her element! Arriving at the theatre I hadn’t considered steps or dark corridors or tripping over props, wires, doorways etc. As my friend helped me count the steps in the theatre as we waited to be called back stage, the realisation hit me; “wow I really can’t see at all in the dark anymore! Oh well, torch next time!”

This set me thinking after the show. Everyone was so lovely, I felt so looked-after and no different to anyone else there and it all just happened totally naturally. I am aware in modern society that it seems it can be awkward on both sides of the ‘eye-sight thing’, but I always hope that because I’m as open and humorous as I am about it that it breaks any potential ice and I’ve always made this my ‘thing’. To me it’s not a ‘disability’, never has or will be. Whatever ‘it’ may be, to me it’s just a different level of ability at certain things; some people are great with numbers (I’m utterly rubbish at that!) some people have good balance or have blue eyes! I don’t believe it’s as simple as ‘boxing it’ because that’s what makes someone appear ‘different’, just be you, always. Dance, amongst other things has really opened my mind to this again recently, as by its nature it allows for the freedom of thought and movement; such an inspiring journey in such a small space of time.

Rehearsal over so quickly and no disasters, then a while to wait before the show, which felt like forever! So between coffee and of course the superstitious dark chocolate we crammed in as much practise as possible in the packed dressing room with every other group doing every other kind of dance at the same time; such as buzz it was tangible and fantastic!

Show time! The most awesome wave of adrenaline which always seems to start in my knees sent an instant grin to my face! The dance itself was like nothing I’ve ever experienced. Nothing like playing on stage, this was a whole other performance. I remember not being able to feel the floor under my feet, like I was strangely floating and even though connected by the music as a group and by maintaining synchronicity I experienced a wonderful feeling of individuality at the same time almost in an away-with-the-faeries way. And it was over!

Happily there was no falling-off-the-stage but I did have a very intimate moment with the curtain as I came off which both me and everyone in the wings found completely hysterical! It’s a shame that didn’t make it into the video! I just didn’t want to go home and when I did, I carried on dancing! Definitely a memory for life and thank you so much Cornwall Dance School for the most incredible year and magical journey.

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After doing ballet and tap fairly briefly as a child, this year I decided I’d enough of longing to do it properly!

Determined to make another memory from a nagging dream, I joined Cornwall School of Dance in early February 2015.

Learning both Contemporary dance and Street, in mid- March along with many others from the school, I’d been invited to take part in a dance production for the Eden Project.

In future I’m looking at completing the first Contemporary Dance award – bronze and hoping to be part of this year’s Christmas production.

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Like fencing, finally getting on a horse was a childhood calling. After being asked initially what my objectives were when arrived for my first lesson by who is now one of my dearest and closest friends, I have to admit I probably unnerved her a little! Happening to mention galloping bare-back across beaches and into the sunset, my friend took me at my word!

Beginning in June 2011, by September I’d all but done away with stirrups and saddle. As part of a birthday present that year, in November I attended a day course in Windsor which included ‘riding the rings’ and the ultimate dream of carrying a sword (albeit a beautifully realistic-but-wooden one!) on horseback. Arguably perhaps I do have an “inner-elf”!

After nearly five years, I’ve been lucky enough to gallop across stunning Cornish beaches, truly ride into the sunset bare-back and bridle-less, learned to jump, trot, canter, groom and saddle up (or not!) as well as having a go a carriage riding and in the process satisfy a true ‘soul-call’.

In the future I’m looking at a further course in stunt riding and combined archery on horseback – I hope they have ‘safety arrows’!

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September 20th 2015

Almost as soon as I hit the ‘entre’ option on the competition form the adrenaline butterflies begin! Even carting around the kit, manipulating, steps, trains, other bags plus white cane and trying not to decapitate any innocent passenger in the process is all part of the build-up for me.

Arriving in Bristol the night before the competition, I’m excited and honestly always controlling nervous energy. My mind is overflowing with all the usual questions the most pressing of which for me with a venue I’ve never fenced in before is always the lighting. It’s also the first high-level individual competition I’ve entered and I’m prepared for hard work and the possibility of not even winning a fight, but, I also craved the experience of an event of this calibre.

The first challenge I had was quite simply finding the door! Getting there in plenty of time, I could see people (moving blobs) inside fencing but after wandering round could find no apparent entry! Bemused, after texting a friend also competing I was ‘rescued’.

It’s never until I begin to warm up and stretch and start my superstitious munching of dark chocolate that I get the initial intense rush of adrenaline. In all honesty too, although I’ve managed to almost obliterate its relevance, is the ‘how much am I going to be able to see here?’ question.

It turned out that for me, that the brightness of the lighting was extremely difficult and all the usual contrasts and shadows were more of a distraction than a help. So it was time to focus on the muscle memory!

All ready to go into the poule, having found the right piste and made the referees and organisers aware of my vision, one of the organisers asked if she could have a word. She mentioned a gentleman from a local radio station who was interviewing fencers for their sport feature and said that he would be very interested to chat with me with regard to me being blind.

Managing to win one fight in my poule of six and only having one bout with no points, I couldn’t be disappointed as I honestly thought I wouldn’t win even one!

Poules done, rambling randomly through a moving blur of white and silver, attempting to avoid spools, wires, weapons and standing on anyone, the gentleman from the radio spotted me. Too wired by now to even consider being nervous we had a really great chat and many laughs. On giving him my email, he picked up on the surname and asked if he could add an extra bit to the end of what he’d already recorded – he couldn’t believe I was a relation and was enthused! As always I found this humbling as being part of that heritage means the world to me. After taking some ‘Lord of the Rings’ style photos we went our separate ways and I felt it was wonderful to have had the opportunity to share my story.

The DE was certainly no ‘knock-out’ but there were no medals for me at Bristol this year. However it truly was a fantastic experience, from the atmosphere and the fencing to having had the chance through Fate to share my story and at the time I had no idea where that interview would lead over the next month! A massive “Thank You” to you Neil Maggs!

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On 4^th July I was lucky enough to go to the most monumentally inspiring concert I’ve ever been to. Long story short, not only front row seats for Fleetwood Mac at the NEC and the first time I’ve truly ever ‘seen’ a concert, but the chance to meet Mick Fleetwood himself! Just awesome in the true sense of the word and inspirational doesn’t even begin to cover it. Truly clichéd to say perhaps, but in all honesty life has not been the same since in the most beautiful way.

Apart from barely being able to put a guitar down and feeling exactly as passionate as I did at 13 all over again, the chain of events seemed to keep spiralling. An interview for a local radio station when I competed at the Bristol Open in September this year ended up leading me to finally ‘do this’. Several interviews followed forcing me to think how and why I stated to fence amongst other things and it shouldn’t have been a surprise to me that music was inextricably linked.

So at 33, its 20 years since I first picked up a guitar, and I thoroughly believe in and lay at the feet of Fate and that ‘it’ all happens for a reason at a certain time and place and it had to be now.

I’m currently finishing songs for a third album and for my birthday this year, well it only seemed appropriate, but I appear to have a drum kit in the spare room . . so perhaps number 3 will be less ‘acoustic’?! The rest of the future is in your hands!
Ruth Tolkien

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