Dreams turn to dust. For now, anyway

Sunrise on a normal day. A 16 year old student heads into school. Today was the day she was meeting with a careers advisor. For some, it would go well, they would be given advice, booklets, leaflets to read, and would probably receive a job at the end of it. This day however, was not going to be ordinary at all. No leaflets, no books, nothing. You guessed right. Literally, Nothing. Her dream was to become an instantaneous language interpreter, like she’d heard on the news. The ones that speak through headphones at the UN summits etc. She walked into the room, guided by her support worker. Unenthusiastically, they sat next to the too, unenthusiastic advisor. They began with the usual hello, then carried on. She was told, that a language interpreter was a good career goal, but not one she could “realistically” achieve. She would be given an idea, to look at books in the careers library. Fast-forward a few years later, and she is in the local college. Sitting at her desk, having only scraped one high graded GCSE, and now on her second of 2 years of (in her opinion) wasted time, she contemplates. Her mind wandering from the task in hand. Could it be possible? Could I be a singer? She wanted to go to music school. Again, this career was going to be crushed. A year later, whilst at the next of her colleges, she looks at the OU. The degree that may save her. Health and social care? There is a question mark over this, says her advisor, it requires vision. You need vision for this field. Here we go again. Another idea she takes, taken from her grasp. Moments later, she finds a psychology with counselling degree. She has now embarked on it, and is in her second year. That person, who is now 22, is me. I am in my second year. I tried finding those jobs, those options, had them taken from me. Had them knocked back. I wished to go into neuropsychology, but yet again, that was (too visual!) That word keeps appearing. Visual. Visual. Visual. Visual. Like a nasty echo that won’t go away. It’s on loop. If neuropsychology isn’t an option, neurorehabilitation is. Speech and language therapy, is my final attempt. I am not given up! I’m now getting told they are visual!! This time, You will not knock me! If Bolotin can do it, when he was alive in his time, then why can’t I? Why can’t I achieve! Let me! Let me try and break those barriers! No other blind person has tried to become a speech and language therapist and succeeded, as far as I know. Why can’t I be the first? Let me please try to break down those visual barriers! I have been brought up to be determined. Please, give me a chance. When I qualify, let me try. That’s all I ask!