A few months ago, some mem­bers of staff from the Trinidad and To­ba­go Blind Wel­fare As­so­ci­a­tion’s Port-of- Spain of­fice went horse­back rid­ing. When I saw the video, it brought back mem­o­ries of my own first ex­pe­ri­ence on horse­back many years ago. Their joy al­so re­mind­ed me how im­por­tant it is for chil­dren to have op­por­tu­ni­ties to try new things, es­pe­cial­ly dur­ing the Ju­ly and Au­gust va­ca­tion.

Chil­dren are nat­u­ral­ly cu­ri­ous. They ask ques­tions, ex­plore, make friends and dis­cov­er new in­ter­ests. Blind­ness does not change that. Blind and vi­su­al­ly im­paired chil­dren de­serve the same op­por­tu­ni­ties to get their hands dirty, try some­thing dif­fer­ent and cre­ate mem­o­ries they will car­ry with them in­to adult­hood.

One of those mem­o­ries for me takes me back to the sum­mer of 2011, when I at­tend­ed Camp Can Do in To­ba­go. Dur­ing the camp, we vis­it­ed Heal­ing With Hors­es, where I met a beau­ti­ful black mare named Kala­cun­gin.

The first thing I re­mem­ber about Kala is that she was big. Very big. In fact, I need­ed a step­ping stool just to get on­to her back. I had nev­er rid­den a horse be­fore, so I thought it would be a good idea if some­one walked be­side me while she was be­ing led. It seemed like a per­fect­ly rea­son­able re­quest.

Ap­par­ent­ly, Kala did not agree.

I was told that she did not usu­al­ly like side walk­ers, so it would just be me, Kala and the per­son lead­ing her.

As we start­ed mov­ing, I was told that Kala liked be­ing talked to and pet­ted. So that is ex­act­ly what I did. I spoke to her, rubbed her neck and grad­u­al­ly for­got how ner­vous I had been a few min­utes ear­li­er. Be­fore long, I was en­joy­ing every sec­ond of it.

Look­ing back now, I think what made that day so mem­o­rable was that it was much more than sim­ply touch­ing a horse. Be­fore that day, I knew what a horse was. I knew they were large an­i­mals with four legs, a mane and a tail. But know­ing about some­thing and ex­pe­ri­enc­ing it are two very dif­fer­ent things.

Meet­ing Kala was a com­plete­ly sen­so­ry ex­pe­ri­ence. I heard her breath­ing. I felt the strength of her mus­cles as she walked. I learnt that she liked be­ing spo­ken to and pet­ted. I braid­ed her beau­ti­ful black mane and dis­cov­ered that an an­i­mal I had imag­ined would be in­tim­i­dat­ing could al­so be in­cred­i­bly gen­tle. Those are things no one could have ful­ly ex­plained to me. I had to ex­pe­ri­ence them for my­self.

Af­ter the ride, I spent a lit­tle more time with Kala be­fore it was time to leave. Fif­teen years lat­er, I still re­mem­ber her. I re­mem­ber her name. I re­mem­ber her gen­tle na­ture. I re­mem­ber ar­riv­ing a lit­tle un­sure of my­self and leav­ing with a mem­o­ry that has stayed with me ever since.

I think that is true of many ex­pe­ri­ences in life. We can de­scribe some­thing to an­oth­er per­son, but there are some things that on­ly be­come re­al when we ex­pe­ri­ence them our­selves. Read­ing about a mu­si­cal in­stru­ment is not the same as learn­ing to play one. Hear­ing some­one de­scribe the sea is not the same as feel­ing the waves around you. In the same way, hear­ing about hors­es could nev­er com­pare to meet­ing Kala.

That is one of the rea­sons op­por­tu­ni­ties for blind and vi­su­al­ly im­paired chil­dren mat­ter so much. They are not sim­ply op­por­tu­ni­ties to pass the time dur­ing the school va­ca­tion. They are op­por­tu­ni­ties to dis­cov­er new in­ter­ests, build con­fi­dence and ex­pe­ri­ence the world in ways that can­not al­ways be taught in a class­room or de­scribed by some­one else.

At the T&T Blind Wel­fare As­so­ci­a­tion, chil­dren have the op­por­tu­ni­ty to par­tic­i­pate in Braille, In­for­ma­tion Tech­nol­o­gy and mu­sic class­es, and over the years many have al­so been in­tro­duced to ac­tiv­i­ties such as goal­ball.

Still, more re­cent­ly, sail­ing. Not every child will en­joy the same things, and that is per­fect­ly fine. Child­hood is about dis­cov­er­ing what ex­cites you, what chal­lenges you and what makes you smile.

Child­hood should be filled with ex­pe­ri­ences that spark cu­rios­i­ty and leave last­ing mem­o­ries. For some chil­dren, that may be learn­ing an in­stru­ment, try­ing a new sport or mak­ing a new friend. For me, it was meet­ing a beau­ti­ful black mare named Kala­cun­gin.

I could nev­er have imag­ined then that I would still be smil­ing as I thought about her 15 years lat­er, but I am very glad I was giv­en the chance to meet her.

This col­umn is sup­plied in con­junc­tion with the T&T Blind Wel­fare As­so­ci­a­tion

Head­quar­ters: 118 Duke Street, Port-of-Spain, Trinidad

Email: ttb­wa1914@gmail.com

Phone: (868) 624-4675

What­sApp: (868) 395-3086