+
upworthy

blindness

California teen quarterback Jasen Bracy

Jasen Bracy always wanted to play football, but retinal cancer he developed as a toddler took his eyesight by the time he was age 7. How could he play a fast-paced contact sport like football if he couldn't see?

"No way," his father, Jasen Bracy Sr. thought. "How is this going to be possible for him to get out there and play?"

But young Bracy was determined. As soon as he got his own phone, he started calling around to youth football teams and talking to the coaches. Eventually, he connected with David Nichols, the coach of the Modesto Raiders. Nichols was impressed with Bracy's attitude.

"The way he was on the phone, I just said, 'Come on we'll figure it out,'" Nichols told CBS News.


After playing last year as a running back, Bracy is now the starting quarterback for the Raiders, throwing passes and running in touchdowns himself—all without being able to see the other players on the field.

"It's all memory," he told CBS. "It's all about having trust in the player, the receiver and the team. I have to trust them 100%."

Bracy's teammates guide him into position on the field and his dad coaches him from the sidelines using a walkie-talkie that transmits to his helmet. "After the play starts, I may tell him, 'Hey, run to your right, let's get upfield,' or 'Watch out, somebody's coming to hit you,'" Bracy Sr. said.

It seems to be working out well. Bracy led the Raiders to a 33-6 win just last weekend.

Bracy's perseverance and the support from his family and community offer a beautiful example of how limitations don't automatically have to hold someone back.

In fact, Bracy has his hopes up for a shot in the NFL. "We'll see how far this career can go," he said.

Blind Youth Football Player Makes Big Moveswww.youtube.com

Michelle Smith, 21, was understandably nervous when her mom found the BDSM restraints she had hidden under her bed.

"I was afraid you’d find those," Smith said, hiding her face in shame. "I thought you’d noticed them before and just ignored them."

"'Them' what?" Mom responded as she glanced around the room at the collectible anime action figures and other nerdy memorabilia that adorned the shelves. "It’s just a strap to a suitcase."


There's always a strange tension between parents and children when it comes to sexuality. But in this particular instance, mom's naïveté was compounded by the fact that Michelle is legally blind and has autism — and she was about to leave for a kink party with her then-boyfriend.

Photo by Sarah Ginsburg/"Best and Most Beautiful Things." Used with permission.

Blindness and autism can obviously cause some complications, especially in terms of work and school. But what about sex and romance?

Humans are sexual creatures, and neither blindness and autism should change that. Still, Smith had some difficulty when she first began to explore her sexuality — not because of her disabilities but because of other people's perceptions of her disabilities.

"When I first got into this lifestyle, I was convinced that no one would want to play with 'some blind chick,'" she says. "There were people online who said things like, 'Oh, you have autism, that means you can’t consent.' And it’s like, excuse me? Who are you to say that?"

Photo by Sarah Ginsburg/"Best and Most Beautiful Things." Used with permission.

When Smith finally found a safe kink community, she laid down the ground rules: They weren't allowed to ask about her disabilities, unless they had specific questions about what she could or could not do or see.

BDSM and other kinds of sex play involve power and authority — two things that don’t often get bestowed on people with disabilities, at least consensually.

Smith might enjoy being submissive in a sexual way, for example. But that's different from when people see her with a cane out on the street and treat her like a child. That is condescending and unwanted, while her sex life is liberating and cathartic and — above all — consensual.

Photo by Sarah Ginsburg/"Best and Most Beautiful Things." Used with permission.

"When you’ve already had to acknowledge the fact that you’re a little bit unusual, finding out that you’re unusual in a sexual way, you just kind of shrug and say 'that figures!'" she says with a laugh.

In her experience, there's a lot of overlap between autism, kink, and nerd/geek communities. She also finds a similar empowerment from cosplay — dressing up like her favorite characters from anime or video games for conventions with like-minded fans. Again, it offers her a sense of control; she's accepted and appreciated for the same passions that make her "different" in the eyes of others.

Photo by Matthew Dorris/"Best and Most Beautiful Things." Used with permission.

Since she began to embrace her kinks and quirks, Smith has had several relationships, lived on her own, and continued to pursue her career, just like any other able-sighted or neurotypical person might.

That doesn't mean everything is simple or easy, of course. Both her autism and blindness still affect her life in certain ways, and sometimes even work together to a disadvantage. "Sometimes with autism I get really interested in something, and then I’m frustrated with my blindness when I can’t do it," she says. (This can be particularly hard to balance with her love of video games, where her sight problems prevent her from enjoying certain games that aren't calibrated for people with low vision.)

In the meantime, she's still striving toward her dream job of being a full-time voice actor for cartoon work. She's making industry connections through friends in Los Angeles and building a reel and resume through making original animated projects with friends. It's not an easy path for anyone to follow — but there's no reason that her autism or blindness should get in the way either.

Photo by Sarah Ginsburg/"Best and Most Beautiful Things." Used with permission.

By sharing the story of her passions and perseverance, Smith hopes to break down stigmas around disability, neurodiversity, and sexuality.

"Autism is a disability of the people who don’t have autism more than it is for the people who do," she says. "It’s a disability of perception. Neurotypical folks, a lot of times they don’t give us a chance, and I think that’s where a lot of the problems come from."

She also shared a story from a recent screening of "Best and Most Beautiful Things," a documentary film that chronicles her journey over several years. After the movie, an older woman confessed that the movie — and Smith herself — had made her rethink the way that she treats her own granddaughter.

Photo by Jordan Salvatoriello/"Best and Most Beautiful Things." Used with permission.

"I don't know if her granddaughter is queer or kinky or has crazy-colored hair, is a nerd, is blind, has autism, any of the above, all of the above, none of the above," Smith says. "But that girl who I have no idea about, who probably has at least a couple things in common with me, is now not worrying about the way her grandma looks at her. So that makes me happy."

And that's the crux of Smith's mission in life. She doesn’t want to change the way she is or the world that she lives in; she just wants to help others understand it, with all its kinks and quirks.

Andy woke up with no sight and a tube down his throat.

On Sept. 28, 2011, an unknown person assaulted Andy. The attack knocked him unconscious, and when he woke up, he couldn't see anymore. The assault had damaged his optic nerve.

"I thought to myself, 'Hah. Whatever. You'll just open me up, reattach the wires and lights come back on again,'" recalls Andy. But that wasn't going to happen. "[The doctor] put his hand on my shoulder and said, 'I'm sorry, Andy.'"


Over time, Andy adjusted to losing his sight. But it wasn't easy.

More than 7 million American adults are blind or have a visual disability and it doesn't necessarily have to be a sad thing. But for Andy, losing his sight was difficult.

"The hardest thing for me being completely blind is not seeing my family every day," says Andy. "For me to learn to accept, 'You're never going to see again, Andy. You're never going to see your wife, your children, your dog.' Taken away in the blink of an eye. It's not fair."

But then the doctor said he might know something that could help.

There's a weird device out there called the BrainPort. It lets people see with their tongues. Yeah — their tongues. The device has three parts: a small camera, an iPhone-sized computer, and a weird half-spatula/half-lollipop-looking thing.

Using it is pretty simple: The camera and computer capture an image, then send it as a pattern of buzzes to the lollipop, which the person puts in their mouth (the buzzes apparently feel kind of like Pop Rocks candy.)

A buzzing lollipop sounds pretty weird, but it does seem to work.

Our brains are actually pretty good at figuring out how to use new information (it also helps that our tongues are incredibly sensitive, as anyone who's accidentally bitten theirs can tell you). It took a little while for Andy to get used to the buzzing sensation, but not that long.

"I felt this buzzing on my tongue, and I felt the impression. And then I saw my hand. For the first time in five years, I saw my hand," Andy explains. "Something that small is huge."

If certain studies are correct, Andy's brain could have processed the signals in his vision centers, as if the information was coming from his eyes themselves.

Seeing his hand must have been big. But not as big as seeing his family again.

"The first person was [my son] little Andy. He shook his hand back and forth and he said, 'Dad, you can see me?'" says Andy. You could see the emotion in his face. "He said, 'Hey, pop.'"

"It had been five years since I've seen my kids," Andy says. "It's incredible."

Watch Andy's story below:

Most Shared

A super-rare illness might take her sight, so she's seeing the world while she still can.

There’s a very real possibility that 15-year-old Alexis Meyers will become completely blind in the next few years. Before that happens, she and her family are trying their hardest to make sure she sees as much of the world as she can.

True
Expedia+

Even when she was little, Alexis knew something wasn’t quite right with her eyes.

She remembers it starting in third grade. "It was harder to read books, and I couldn't see the blackboard," she says. Her hearing loss that had started in kindergarten was worse too.

Alexis and her family at Disneyland Paris. Image via the Meyers family, used with permission.


After years of tests, the Meyers family and their doctors discovered the cause — a mutation of Alexis' OPA-1 gene. It's an extremely rare disorder that causes the cells in Alexis' optic nerves to atrophy, eventually causing blindness. At present, there's no cure.

Once she knew what she was facing, Alexis didn't shrink from it.

In seventh grade she stood in front of her class and gave a PowerPoint presentation about her genetic disorder. She explained what causes it and what it was doing to her eyesight and hearing. She shared that it could leave her blind before her 20th birthday. She was brave, factual, and didn't cry. After all, she already had a plan.

Alexis at Stonehenge. Image via the Meyers family, used with permission.

Alexis had always wanted to see the world someday. Her diagnosis simply moved up the schedule.

For the last few years, Alexis and her family have traveled as much as they can. They've visited the Grand Canyon, Mackinac Island, England, France, and Germany. Alexis loved Germany's castles — Heidelberg in particular. "There was so much history, so much celebration and so much food in Germany," she says. "Heidelberg was so big and beautiful— and it has the world's largest barrel inside it!" After a pause she adds conspiratorially, "It's supposed to be haunted too."

One of her favorite early trips was to Jamaica, where the family swam with dolphins and climbed waterfalls. Alexis loved every minute, but cautions folks against taking a horseback ride on the beach. "The horses in front of you will throw up sand with their feet and it gets in your face. It's really gross."

Most of Alexis' travel money comes through fundraisers. She's sold homemade jewelry or handcrafted dog treats to help pay for trips. Right now, she and her family are raising money with an online fundraising page.

Alexis' list of places to go and things to do is still growing.

Number one is to see Iceland's northern lights. Sometime in the next year, she'll do just that.

The Northern Lights tops Alexis' list of natural phenomenon she wants to see. Image via iStock.

The family is planning a trip to Iceland where they'll take a dip in the blue lagoon and watch auroras make the sky dance and change colors. Later they're hoping to visit Northern Ireland and walk the Giant's Causeway, travel to Rome to see the Colosseum, visit Australia and New Zealand, and then check out Kīlauea volcano in Hawaii.

Receiving the kind of diagnosis that Alexis did could be devastating and isolating for so many people. Thanks to her family and community, Alexis is determined to see the positives.

With their help, she's transforming it into an opportunity to create visual memories of the world she loves before she can’t anymore.

"I love seeing her face light up when she sees these places she's only read about before," says Alexis' mom Kristin. "We're doing what she wants to do and seeing what she wants to see as long as we can."

Eventually, Alexis wants to go to college and study to become a veterinarian. Second only to travel, she says, is her love of animals. But the cats and dogs can wait — for now, seeing the world is her first priority.