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Back No Barriers Save as PDF
Chapters (48)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. Dedication
  4. FOREWORD
  5. Winter Solstice
  6. THE NO BARRIERS PLEDGE
  7. PROLOGUE
  8. 1
  9. 2
  10. 3
  11. 4
  12. 5
  13. 6
  14. 7
  15. 8
  16. 9
  17. 10
  18. 11
  19. 12
  20. 13
  21. 14
  22. 15
  23. 16
  24. 17
  25. 18
  26. 19
  27. 20
  28. 21
  29. 22
  30. 23
  31. 24
  32. 25
  33. 26
  34. 27
  35. 28
  36. 29
  37. 30
  38. 31
  39. 32
  40. 33
  41. 34
  42. 35
  43. 36
  44. EPILOGUE
  45. GLOSSARY
  46. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  47. ABOUT THE AUTHORS
  48. Newsletter Sign-up

I took the BrainPort to the climbing gym to see if I could use it to find holds on the wall. It was a fun exercise, and afterward, I started getting a bunch of media inquiries asking me to use the device to test it in skiing, kayaking, or rock climbing. But I thought they were missing the point. I didn’t need the BrainPort for extreme pursuits. The ways it lent meaning in my life were subtler. When I became blind, two barriers had arisen. Not being able to see anymore had been difficult, but the true deficit was that I’d lost a vital connection to those I loved. I couldn’t play a game of rock-paper-scissors with the kids or praise a beautiful picture they’d drawn in school. I couldn’t tell Ellie how beautiful she looked in her new outfit or catch a knowing glance from her across the room. Without those connections, my life could sometimes feel lonely and isolating.

So it felt like magic when I could use the BrainPort to share a moment or play a game. I played tic-tac-toe with Emma and used the BrainPort to teach Arjun how to read. I could decipher letters on Arjun’s cue cards, and we’d sound out the words together. One day, I used the device to look down and noticed a ball rolling across my tongue, like the first time at the laboratory, but this time, it was Arjun kicking me his soccer ball. I knelt on the wrestling mat like a goalie, stopped the ball, and threw it back again and again.

Later it was back to reading, but as usual, Arjun started horsing around and telling me jokes. I pointed the camera at his head and zoomed in. His face filled the frame of the camera, and I studied his lips moving, shimmering in wavy pulses. I lost track of what he was saying, transfixed by the electrical impulses that were my son’s eyes squinting and twinkling, his round cheeks lifting, what I thought were his teeth, and, most remarkable, his curling smile. With each new joke, his head would tilt back. His mouth would spread out, and his entire face would transform. I had forgotten the details of how a laugh seemed to engulf the face as it erupted with joy. I couldn’t help but smile, too, and the tongue display flopped out of my mouth. Spit flew everywhere and trailed out in long tendrils of drool. Soon we were both bursting with laughter until tears were rolling down my face.

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