First, let me introduce myself.

My name is Monique Van Den Abbeel, a former student of the Royal Institute Spermalie, a school for the blind and visually impaired right here in Bruges. For over 20 years, I actively participated as an expert by experience in various social integration projects concerning visual handicaps. I am also a single mom to a 16-year-old teenage son. And lastly, I am an author. My first book ‘Graag Zien! Blinde mama, sterke vrouw’, which translates roughly as ‘Apple of my eye! Blind mother, strong woman’, was published on February 4, 2016. This book, which is kind of a testimonial, is the reason I’ve been asked to speak at this conference. But I have to tell you, this request left me speechless. Which is rare! Because normally, I’ll talk your ear off. I’m used to speaking in public, but in English? The people who know me, also know that I don’t shy away from challenges, so I took it up, happily. So here we are, and you’re witnessing my very first presentation in English. Exciting, isn’t it? Before we head off, I’m going to tell you that you can share any awkward questions or comments that pop up in your mind with the group. After each ‘new’ chapter, we’ve factored in some time for questions. You’ll figure out how this works. I can’t see you when you raise your hand, so if you have any questions, please raise your voice. Thank you very much in advance. Off we go…
Special education

When I was about 4 months old, I was diagnosed with congenital glaucoma, which would cause oculomotor nerve palsy. This visual handicap made close medical monitoring necessary. As a result, I spent most of the first years of my life in the hospital.
After two years of kindergarten in a regular school, I was lagging behind because of the long hospital stays, and my parents decided to send me to a school for children with special needs. It was simply more practical for me to stay there fulltime, in boarding school, so that’s what I did.
The headmistress of the elementary school I attended had a tradition. She took a photograph of every new pupil that came to her school. This picture dates back to September 1980.
The little girl experimenting with crayons is me.
As you’ve probably noticed, I could still see a little back then, even though I was already extremely visually impaired.
A few weeks after this carefree picture where you can see me experimenting with my bike, the retina of my right eye detached, and I became blind in my right eye.
When I was about eleven or twelve, I lost the remaining vision in my left eye as well.
After elementary school, I went to the Royal Institute Spermalie where I enjoyed an education focusing on sales & administration.
The last year of secondary school, I absolutely wanted to live on my own, in a student flat.
Preparing myself for the world beyond the school gates was my first priority.
I went to my counsellors with contact information and two addresses of student flats where I would be welcome.
After a few intense conversations about why I was so adamant to live on my own, they proposed that I stay in a little house that was school property and that was being renovated at the time. Officially, I was still enrolled in boarding school, but I actually had my own student flat on campus.
An educator came by from time to time to see if everything was alright. She helped me with budgeting, she kept an eye on whether I made it to class in time and whether I was able to study on my own, unsupervised. This independence was good for me.
Walking out the door in the morning to catch the city bus, walking to the place where I did my internship, deciding whether I wanted to stay in the city for a little while after work or whether I wanted to run an errand on my way home… I got what I asked for: the right preparation for the life that would start once I’d leave school behind me.
I taught myself to be resilient by getting a taste of what standing on my own two feet meant.
On my own
What everyone had felt coming, inevitably happened: after sixteen years of only coming home in the weekends, I had grown up in a completely different environment. I no longer felt at home in my parents’ home. But my parents had difficulties accepting the idea that I was leaving their home and wanted to truly live on my own. Putting yourself first is not easy, but as far as I was concerned, it was the right decision. I had learned the basics at school: cooking, doing the laundry, ironing my clothes. I stuck labels in braille on the washing machine and other home appliances, so I could select a program by touch, for example. And like for everyone else, practice makes perfect. At first, when I had just begun to live on my own, I did literally everything by myself, without extra support. Cooking, cleaning, administration. I ran my entire household by myself. I even wanted to do better than people without a disability or impairment. I cleaned like a madwoman, because even though I can’t see it myself, I wanted that the people who were able to see, would see that my house was spic and span. Of course, it took me much longer than other people, but in my opinion, this was the way it was supposed to be. Grocery shopping at the local grocery, greengrocery, bakery or butcher shop had never been a problem. A shop assistant took the things I wanted to buy from the shelves, and in slightly bigger stores, like the local minimart, one of the shop assistants would guide me through the store and we would pick my groceries together. But buying groceries at the local grocery or minimart is quite expensive and I can’t go shopping in a big supermarket by myself, because I can’t take things from the shelves, check expiration dates or carry all those heavy groceries on my back all by myself. I had a really tough time accepting that I needed assistance, and that I had the right to accept assistance. Until I realized that lots of people have a cleaning lady because they just don’t feel like cleaning their homes. But I would go to great lengths to do it myself? There are limits. Standing on your own two feet also means that you sometimes have to have the courage to take care of yourself. And that can include asking for help or assistance when you need it. But hiring assistance can be expensive, even more so when you have to live o
Looking for a job
Like every young graduate, I registered with the VDAB, the Flemish Employment Agency, which is an organization that offers job counselling. Finding a job isn’t easy for anyone, and certainly not for someone with a visual disability. When I did my telephone communication exam at school, they had told me they had never given anyone such a high score before, not even a student without a disability or impairment. Everyone was convinced that with my capacities, I would quickly find myself a job. I had a lot of energy and really wanted to get a job and work. When I registered at the VDAB, the first thing they told me was: ‘But dear, you’re entitled to disability benefits, aren’t you? Why would you go to the trouble of finding a job?’ I was shocked! For a few seconds I was perplexed, but I felt an adrenaline rush coming. I said: “Yes, so what? I just want to work like everyone else, is that so weird? I did not go to school for nothing, I did not do all these internships in vain. You’re not seriously suggesting that I let all the time and energy that my counsellors and myself put into all this go to waste and spend my days doing nothing?’ The VDAB lady was shifting uneasily on her chair and she looked at me as if I’d just bitten her head off: ‘I’m not saying that you should spend your days doing nothing, maybe you can volunteer or something?’ Her reaction made it very clear that she had no idea which kind of job I could do. I gave her a bundle of certificates, internship evaluations, my résumé and a letter of application that I had already typed out, together with a lot of documents and information on subsidies employers would be entitled to if they hired an employee with a visual disability. ‘You’ve done internships?’ the lady asked. She could barely conceal her disbelief. ‘Yes, of course, just like everyone else that studied sales & administration,’ I said. She was leafing through all the documents and suddenly became very quiet. ‘Who signed all these internship evaluations?’ she asked. ‘The person who put his signature at the bottom of the page’, I replied. I heard her scratch her head. ‘But how can you operate a switchboard, work with a computer or make copies when you’re blind? You can’t see, right?’ There we had it. The VDAB lady clearly had never heard of auxiliary equipment. I inhaled deeply and tried to explain calmly how a braille reader, text-to-speech device and braille labeler work. I explained that I am a rather pragmatic person and that a few seemingly trivial household tips & tricks could really make a difference at the office too. I said that a photocopier has a little colored line that marks where you should put the page. During my internship, I had asked a colleague to stick a transparent line on top of that colored line. That way I could feel it and make copies myself. The lady sighed very deeply, got up and said that she would get a colleague. Are there any questions about this last part? Looking for a job can be a fulltime job I wrote a lot of job application letters. The only dilemma that I struggled with, was whether I’d mention that I have a visual disability. I wanted to write an honest application letter, but I also wanted to have a fair chance at a job. So, I decided to do the test. I wrote letters in which I mentioned that I am visually impaired at the end of the letter and explained how I would still be able to work as a receptionist or office clerk despite my disability, using auxiliary equipment. I got very few replies, and if I did, they were of the type that anyone would recognize: ‘Thank you for your interest in our company. Unfortunately, your profile does not match the profile of the candidate that we had in mind. Nevertheless, we would like to wish you good luck in finding a job that suits you.’ The letters in which I hadn’t mentioned that I am visually impaired were the only ones to get positive replies, three of them, and I was invited for a job interview. I didn’t usually make it through the second round. But once, I got lucky: I was the best candidate. Yes, I got the job, hurray! I was only 20 years old, had just graduated from high school, was living on my own and I was ready to conquer the labour market … However, two days before I was supposed to start my new job, I got a phone call: the committee had decided that I could not work for this company. The person on the phone told me that I was truly the best candidate and that he himself certainly did not agree with this decision, and that he was not supposed to tell me this, but it basically came down to nepotism. It came as a blow, but once I’d come to terms with it, I decided to change my application strategy. From now on, I decided to contact the company by phone rather than sending in an application letter. When I got a receptionist on the phone, I asked if she could transfer me to someone who could tell me more about the job content. This approach made sure that I reached the right person, and at the right moment, I would subtly mention that I was visually impaired. This approach worked. My voice was and still is my biggest asset. As a candidate for a job as switchboard operator or receptionist, those calls suddenly became an example of the skills I needed for the job. Unfortunately, the companies I applied with were generally hard to reach with public transportation as many of them are located in industrial areas. This limited accessibility proved to be the biggest obstacle overall. When I showed up with a guide dog, my application suddenly became problematic. One time I actually refused a job myself, because the contract mentioned that I would be employed as an employee in a sheltered workshop. When I mentioned it, they said: ‘Oh, but that’s just a formality. Don’t worry about it.’ Excuse me? A formality? Financially it made a huge difference! When I asked what kind of legal status a colleague without a disability would have, they said: manager. I said I wanted the same statute. ‘But Ma’am, that’s impossible, you should be grateful to even have job’, they replied curtly. I replied: Excuse me, I am genuinely grateful for the opportunity that you are willing to give me, but I do want to be treated as equal.’ They clearly weren’t used to dealing with an impaired person who had the courage to stand up for herself. In the end, it all came down to the subsidies that they would receive. When hiring an employee with a sheltered workshop status, the organization receives a fairly high subsidy, because generally, people who work in a sheltered workshop need additional assistance. The whole affair reeked of an attempt to abuse the available systems and resources, so I nicely ended the conversation. Unfortunately, my suspicions later turned out to be right.Back to school
After two and a half years of my intense job hunt, I got discouraged. What the hell was I doing? Yes, I wanted to work. Participate in society and actively contribute to it. But could I really? The fact that I was entitled to disability benefits and could possibly earn less money working was mentioned frequently.
Pregnant
I became pregnant, unexpectedly, and I knew this would be another tough challenge. Because it was very clear that my boyfriend did not want children.
A little too early
On May 4, 2001, at exactly 11:22 AM, my son Robin came into the world, three weeks early. It only took me two days to earn the nurses’ trust, and they let me take care of him the way I


Out to work
After four years of being a fulltime stay-at-home mom, I thought the time was ripe to look for a job again. Not only for financial reasons, but because I craved social contact with coworkers. I loved that for the first three years, I could truly and fully be there for my child, because I do
Temporary job
About a year and a half later, I found a temporary job as a receptionist. I lived in Bruges, and I worked in Vilvoorde, so I did a 90-minute commute. You really do have to be willing to make an effort if you want to participate in this society. Some people thought I was crazy, but that wasn’t exactly new, I was used to it. Others thought I was brave. One of the major advantages of my new employer was that I was not the first visually impaired person to work there. The switchboard for example was already equipped with a braille-reading device. The requests for personal working equipment were approved fairly easily. The visually impaired co-worker whom I was about to replace, still had a few weeks to go, so I had some time to settle in. I could start looking for childcare for my six-year-old. If I wanted to be in Vilvoorde on time, I had to leave at 6 AM. The train and bus connection was far from ideal. Plus, you also have to factor in potential delays when you depend on public transportation. Fortunately, I could count on the goodwill of my neighbors who kept Robin company and accompanied him to school. Every other week, Robin would stay at Pietje Pek, a great daycare where the children can also spend the week if there is an emergency or other exceptional circumstance. A lot of single parents with jobs send their children there. My job as a receptionist suited me really well and I enjoyed working there. My days were so diverse and I came into contact with a lot of people, it was really lovely! Diversity internship When my temporary job ended, I began looking for a part-time job, because in my situation, a fulltime job was simply not feasible. After a period of intense but selective job hunting, I applied for a diversity internship at the national television for the third time. Thanks to these internships, six people can gain media experience for six months. They announced that people with a disability were more than welcome to submit an application as well. Twice I was beaten by another candidate. So I thought: third time’s the charm? And I was very happy when I was invited for a first, second and third round. At the end of it all, they told me that I could do the internship. I was so grateful and happy. It had always been my dream to find a job in the media. Once again, I could use all the help I could get to find childcare for Robin, who was nine at the time. Because once again I had to leave at six AM and if I was lucky, I got home at about seven or eight PM. On Wednesdays, I had a day off. We had moved in the meantime, so the friendly neighbor who used to look after Robin could not look after him so frequently anymore. Pietje Pek no longer was an option. After a few phone calls and quite a bit of negotiating, I could use a new daycare service. The caretakers came to your home, helped the children getting ready for school and accompanied them to school. Our childcare schedule was quite varied. One day of childcare service, one day with the neighbor, sometimes a babysitter or a visit from grandma and during school holidays, I took Robin with me to work. My cleaning lady came by once a week and the family help exceptionally got permission from the organization she worked for to help out three hours a week with grocery shopping and administration. Running my household was like running a company. I made a weekly schedule and hung it on the wall, so everyone could see it clearly. Robin’s teacher also received copies of our schedules that I put in Robin’s agenda. But I didn’t mind, because I finally got the job I had always dreamed of! My internship at the public radio and television was a bit short, but I learned a lot and met a lot of great people. I would do it again in a heartbeat. Thanks to this experience as a diversity intern, it became much clearer to me how I could function in a newsroom. With that knowledge and experience, I applied for a job at one of the regional radio stations. One of them was very enthusiastic and they offered me to work there for a year, expanding my media experience. I was being prepared for a real job. Unfortunately, VDAB and its absurd rules took that fantastic opportunity away from me. I just didn’t get it. I was offered unique opportunity to grow and find my way to a job, but they wouldn’t allow it. I was being held back and was angry, furious even. It was another blow, not only for me, but for all the people who had invested their time and energy in me and my education, each in their own way. It made me sick, both physically and emotionally; I became depressed. Why would I still make an effort, putting my energy into looking for a job? Why would I contribute to this society if an employer was not even allowed to offer me an opportunity, simply because of some absurd rule in this odd country?Unemployed
Sometimes, the government would send me an email with a job offer for a so-called reserved job, which is a job that only people with a disability can apply for.

Is your teenager not helping out at home?
I can hear some of you think: But what about Robin? Doesn’t he help out a lot at home?’

What the future brings
The fact that I am legally unemployed allowed me to have the time and space to think about everything I’ve been through the past years. Finally I’ve found the time to take a yoga and meditation class, and to do something with the question a lot of people have asked me for years: Monique, please write down your experiences in a book, because we love your perspective on life.’

Conclusion: Is my life so different from yours?
In my experience, being physically blind is not the same as not being able to see. I know that a lot of people would disagree. When I say loud and proud that I’m not blind, people tend to protest. And sure, the fact that my eyes can’t see, is the cause of a lot of practical obstacles and concerns.