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OCOP: Making sense of it all

Brian Hetherington, a retired teacher, helps others who are visually and hearing impaired.
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When Brian Hetherington started losing his vision and hearing, he became determined to not let his disability get in the way of living life.

That not only meant continuing his elementary school teaching career until he became unable to do so anymore, but also giving back to the community of visually and hearing impaired people he now found himself a part of.

That spirit was an extension of his passion for education, but as Hetherington says, it also combats a problem many impaired people fall into.

“When you lose your vision or your hearing, there’s a tendency, especially at the start, to become incredibly isolated,” he says.

“When I lost my vision enough that I was legally blind, my mother-in-law encouraged me to learn brail. I wanted to tell her, ‘That’s not the priority. I want to be able to live day-to-day. I can live without reading.’ But not without people or doing what I normally do.”

Hetherington was diagnosed with retinitis pigmatosa when he was 18. His vision loss had started slowly before that, to the point where he barely noticed it at first.

“It was little things, like I couldn’t see the ball coming at me when we were playing sports,” he recalls. “Or we’d be at the movies, and I’d have a hard time finding my seat in the dark of the theatre.

“You just don’t think too much about it. My parents, they just thought I was klutzy. They didn’t know either.”

It took a long time for Hetherington’s vision to deteriorate to where it is now, although he can still see a little (he can even use a computer, as long as the type is large and contrasted). He can no longer drive and requires a cane to differentiate his surroundings when he’s out for a walk.

He retired from teaching in 1993, after spending the last five years of his career as a learning assistant.

Retired, and with worsening vision and hearing, Hetherington was vulnerable to the possibility of withdrawing into his own private world.

Instead, he took the opportunity to get involved with charity work, as well as helping others who are going through similar losses of their senses.

“I’ve always said, if you continue to blend yourself with other people in social settings or what have you, it gives you a broader perspective,” Hetherington says. “That becomes even more important when you can’t see or hear.”

Around the time he retired, Hetherington joined the Lions Club, as well as the Canadian National Institute for the Blind (CNIB).

He also became a member of the local Legion, where he helps with poppy sales leading up to Remembrance Day every year, as well as socializing with other members. Poker is a particular favourite, of his.

His work for the CNIB includes acting as a peer mentor. Hetherington is paired with clients and simply talks to and supports them as they navigate their situations, much like a sponsor.

In this, as well as his speaking engagements as part of the CNIB Ambassadors Club, he’s found conversation is key to those clients’ success and happiness.

“A lot of them don’t get too much contact, so they enjoy having someone to converse with,” he says. “

Hetherington was also heavily involved with the Lions Club’s annual dinners for visually impaired members of the community, in partnership with the CNIB.

When the 50-year tradition ended about eight years ago, Hetherington made it a mission to replace it with something else. Enter the Vision/Hearing Resources Open House, which has now been running for seven years.

For Hetherington, fostering that sense of community has given his life purpose.

“We’re all people,” he says, “and we all have the same problems, and the same needs: love, respect, compassion. That doesn’t go away with your senses.”