NIB: A Personal Perspective
By Thomas Panek, NIB Vice President of
Relationship Management
The phone call came just over a year ago, unexpectedly, catching me at a time when our economy began its free fall, but there was hope for change for persons with disabilities. “Am I speaking with Thomas Panek?” asked an austere, resolute voice from afar. This was one of those moments that we all encounter on the journey of life, a decision point that tests our character by forcing us to revisit the past in order for us to change our future. Here’s my story, prompted by an incredible series of events triggered by a phone call--it may be a lot like yours--or it may not be and thus challenge your perceptions--but it is one I would like to share with all of you who live with hope for a better future, for all of us living with a disability.
When the telephone rang, it startled me. I was sitting at my desk in downtown Chicago, deeply absorbed in my work. My career was that of a trade specialist, responsible for helping Americans export products and services into emerging international markets. I listened quietly while the caller, an executive recruiter from National Industries for the Blind, politely introduced himself. He asked me, “Mr. Panek, were you the President of the World Trade Center and did you work for the United States Commerce Department?” I admit I had a moment’s hesitation before I answered. Let me explain why.
Twenty years ago, I was told by a doctor that I was “going blind”. Peering into my eyes, which appeared normal to the casual observer, he said I had “retinitis pigmentosa”, and short of a miracle breakthrough there was nothing anyone could do. As a stubborn adolescent, my response was to ask why the doctor was called an “eye specialist”, when all he could do is tell me in Latin what I already knew since boyhood. As far back as I could remember, I had trouble seeing color charts, chalkboards, and wall clocks, (which I suppose explained why I made a lot of creative excuses for failing art, cheating at math, and being late). Truthfully, over time I found an inner strength and competitive spirit that challenged my sighted peers to any task, and I developed my own version of “reasonable accommodations”.
As a boy, eager to assimilate and grow up in a mainstream school environment, I convinced friends to slip notes to me in math class with the teacher’s problems boldly scribbled off the chalkboard (not quite cheating), I memorized music I played on trombone in band (though I preferred cross country running), and I read bold print Cliff Notes whenever possible (unable to read the literary equivalent in small print). Like many people with undisclosed disabilities, I avoided any admission to anyone that something was very different about me. I feared landing in the lowered expectations prevalent in the special education hallways of our schools and avoided any circumstance that proved how poor my vision really had become. Somehow, with no system of flexibilities and supports, I managed the first twenty years of my life in the mainstream pretty well with little or no help at all, (barring breaking both my arms, shattering my left leg, and frequent stitches to my forehead). At least that is what I naively thought at the time.
As a young adult, it was not long before I found myself falling behind in college, unable hold down even a summer factory job much less launch my career. Back then, the Americans with Disabilities Act was idealistic legislation, but the disability services infrastructure left much to be desired. So, in early adulthood I opted for fumbling around without a white cane, struggling in the gap between what I perceived to be either an integrated community life or working in a sheltered environment. I found that effective support services were in place for those with a qualifying disability such as legal blindness, but at the time I was severely visually impaired and not quite there yet. Like many of us living with disability, I began to fall into the half-century long data pool that points to lower college graduation rates, greater levels of underemployment, and income levels disproportionately below our peers.
That said, this phone call from National Industries for the Blind reminded me that once before, I had encountered a similar life changing moment. At some point, when I was trying to find my way, a vocational rehabilitation services coordinator reached out to me and referred me to the Chicago Lighthouse for the Blind and Visually Impaired. While government agencies and companies are beginning to plan strategically to hire more employees from the very population they serve, I personally found long ago that the Chicago Lighthouse offered me help with low vision, as well as evaluation of job choices ranging from manufacturing clocks to computer training. The employees at the Lighthouse all made above minimum wage and took great pride in their work. I was amazed that more than eighty similar not-for-profit agencies were part of a wide network of organizations associated with a central non-profit agency known as National Industries for the Blind. Go figure that their mission is to enhance my opportunities for economic and personal independence, primarily through creating, sustaining and improving employment. After a year of dedication to work-life skills and computer programming, I landed my first professional job as an intern at the Chicago Board of Trade.
Since then, I have embraced my disability as a differentiator. I worked tirelessly to resume my higher education at a top school in my field using my newfound adaptive computer skills, and I even studied abroad. Most importantly, I stopped making excuses for not being able to see, and found the key to my success was to embrace the power and pride that comes with being who you are and being different from everyone else. It was fitting then that almost immediately upon my own acceptance, the very first day I returned to university with my Guide Dog, I met my muse, my wife Melissa. I then began my upward mobility professionally by finding good mentors who remain my advisers to date. Through many subsequent years of hard work with foreign and American embassies and diplomats, I led many businesses on trade missions to faraway lands and managed to build a wide network of high-trust relationships with government and business leaders worldwide.
So, as I sat back at my desk in Chicago, you can see why I had my moment of hesitation one year ago when I heard from National Industries for the Blind. I made my own way through a mainstream school, and I managed to work my way up in an integrated environment. There are many well-founded, albeit dated perceptions of the old sheltered, sub-minimum wage employment models for the blind of yester-year. But since I personally had a good experience at the Chicago Lighthouse, I was intrigued. With an open mind, I flew into Washington, DC to meet with the new President and CEO of National Industries for the Blind, Kevin Lynch, to hear his goals for the organization. Kevin shared his thoughts on expanding job choices for people who are blind, which resonated with my personal and professional experience. Given that he had worked alongside people who are blind for thirty years and rose through the ranks from a floor manager of one of the state agencies to CEO of the largest employment network, I could see right away that he was willing to work tirelessly and that he knew best the strengths weaknesses, opportunities and threats to the ongoing success of the organization as part of the JWOD Program, now called AbilityOne.
And so, as you can see it was a natural evolution of my career to join the leadership team of National Industries for the Blind. As Vice President of Relationship Management, my role provides me with an opportunity to expand employment by once again acting as an intermediary at the highest levels of government and business to create jobs. But this time in addition to representing the business interests of American companies, I am getting the word out about the knowledge, skills and abilities of people like me. After one year on the job as an executive on a dynamic leadership team, I can personally attest to the fact that NIB today has greatly evolved from its past, not only in the products and services it offers through its associated agencies, but in its outlook toward the future.
Sure, we still make many of those SKILCRAFT products that got us started over 70 years ago and sustained the organization, but over the past several decades, those “workshops” have transformed into ISO certified, sophisticated manufacturing and service organizations that rival the most impressive businesses I have visited throughout my career as a trade specialist. I was encouraged in my first year to visit with the employees in the program and hear their stories. At Blind Industries and Services of Maryland, I spoke openly with many of the proud employees about their various duties and responsibilities, and I even learned how to operate a machine that cut notepads and military uniforms to exact specifications for the government customer. For some, who were not able to serve their country in the military, this was their way to support our troops in harms way. All employees were treated equally, whether blind or sighted, and everyone was an associate of the organization, receiving a generous health and benefit package, not to mention access to an on-site gym. I also travelled to meet with the employees of Alphapointe Association for the Blind in Kansas City, which specializes in injection molding of plastics for customers including the Department of Veterans Affairs. Alphapointe is dedicated to serving people who are blind and those with multiple disabilities, providing individuals with a dignified work environment. At ABVI Goodwill of Rochester, New York, I attended the grand opening of a state-of-the-art call center, and met the employees at several Goodwill stores there who were offered health insurance for the first time in a retail environment. Everywhere I went, I met individuals who expressed a sincere pride in their work and employees who were blind worked alongside sighted peers.
We continue to grow our lines of business at an exciting pace with a focus on a quality work environment in spite of the economic downturn. Our many associated nonprofit agencies around the country serve the U.S. government by producing an ever-increasing number of products including uniforms, helmet pads and canteens, but we are also working with blinded veterans and wounded warriors to find gainful employment for them. Our NIB Business Leaders Program provides training that enables upward mobility and careers in business, and our new Contract Management Support Services program recruits college graduates to serve as contract specialists to help meet the hiring demands of the federal government.
Perhaps the most difficult and rewarding part of my job is to weigh in on the hard decisions that our CEO needs to make to improve our ability to expand employment. I would like to share, as one example, a groundbreaking policy that I am proud to be part of. With no dissenting votes, the NIB Board emphatically took the position that it “endorses, promotes and encourages the payment of at least the federal minimum wage for all employees who are blind, both with and without additional disabilities, who are engaged in work on AbilityOne contracts.” Now, I need your help in discussing ideas to create opportunities for future employees who may have severe disabilities and who, even with dedicated resources for rehabilitation engineering, may not be able to meet the productivity demands inherent in our federal contracts.
At the same time these employees are most in need of the services the AbilityOne program offers. I am also very proud to say that last year, despite the economic turmoil, I helped to secure more than four hundred jobs for people who are blind as part of the NIB team. This year, we plan to match those numbers by working even harder to find new opportunities in Federal contracting, and I have already identified jobs for forty individuals in a fully integrated commercial setting as customer service representatives, putting our numbers at 6,000 employees who are blind nationwide.
And so, triggered by a phone call, coupled with an open mind, my perceptions changed.
I am not sure if my conclusions are a lot like yours—or they are not—but I would like the help of all of you for all of us living with a disability to share my story and yours so we can move forward to improve all of the programs in our community for a better future.
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