"That Blind Girl" or "That Girl Who Can't See:" both titles were practically interchangeable with my actual name during my high school years. Substitute either in place of "Stefanie" and that was me. While I was recognized for my scholastic achievements, I always felt as if being legally blind was what defined me. The monocular telescope I peered through to view the blackboard; the textbooks I read from that were almost as tall as me; and the special treatment I received in class from teachers: all of which represented who I was.

When I entered college, I had no problem flourishing with outstanding grades and exploring academic disciplines. Eager professors mentored me and respected me; I even got involved in writing for the campus newspaper. What more could a college freshman ask for?

Despite instant success in college, I still felt as if I was defined by my disability. Dealing with my vision impairment was especially challenging since I had to advocate for myself, as I was a young adult in college, with no one to hold my hand. Consumed by the challenges I faced with blindness, I figured it was safe to say that I'd be defined by my disability for the rest of my life. It wasn't until I won a scholarship from The National Federation of the Blind of Massachusetts that my thinking started to change.

I attended my first NFB convention during April of 2005, where I received a scholarship from the organization's Massachusetts chapter. I understood that the organization promoted positive attitudes towards blindness, such as viewing this impairment as a mere inconvenience and not something that controls one's life. I thought to myself, Well that's a nice philosophy, but it's much easier said than done. What changed my attitude about blindness was this very philosophy being exercised at the convention-not just preached.

Amazement and adoration swept over me as I listened to the speakers at the NFB of MA state convention. I heard a blind gentleman speak about his passion for racecars, and although he could not drive, he was involved in his own business affiliated with the sport. I met a dedicated teacher, who overcame adversity when people thought a blind person could never teach in a classroom. I soaked up the enthusiasm and wit of a woman who went back to school to get her masters degree despite her disability. I was inspired by the welcoming people I met at this convention, because they not only talked the talk-they walked the walk.

I attended two more NFB of Connecticut state conventions, where I was the recipient of a scholarship in 2005 and 2006. Again, I was fascinated with the blind leaders that I had the privilege of meeting: an accomplished lawyer with his own practice, other passionate blind students, and more humble Federationists.

Combing my convention experiences, I realized that the NFB was more than an organization preaching about blindness. It's an organization full of admirable blind people who have overcome obstacles, who have had challenges but have persevered despite their disability. Federationists don't just preach-they do. They are living proof that dreams can be realized with a combination of passion, strength, and the right attitude about blindness.

Learning this philosophy helped me realize that being known as "The Blind Girl" was nobody's fault but my own. The only reason I was being perceived as "The Girl Who Can't See" was because that's how I perceived myself. Meeting and talking with other Federationists taught me that I needed to change my own thinking about myself before I can convince others that I am more than blindness.

In the fall of 2007, I will be entering my senior year at Pine Manor College. After completing an internship program in the fall, I will graduate in 2008 with a B.A. in Communication with a concentration in Advertising and Public Relations. I've been inducted into the College's honor society, and plan on accomplishing great milestones in the future, in terms of my career, personal life, and community. And where does blindness fit it? Nowhere really. Because with such a large assortment of future plans ahead of me, who has time to fit in such a mere inconvenience?

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