One Man's Vision
Handicap fails to slow
athlete's karate quest - Coleman's commitment to sport enables success
Birders flock to annual Audubon
count
Students converge on
Bird walk a woodland symphony
Upward Bound rally brings 150
to UMaine
Blind scholar earns honors at university
By Renee Ordway
OF THE NEWS STAFF
December 15, 1997
Being in the right place, on
time, and avoiding a swan dive from the stage where diplomas would be
distributed.
He fussed with the purple
tassel that tickled his ear as he accepted congratulations from well-wishers who
roamed among the sea of graduates gathered in the
The day before, Coleman had
a private practice run in Alfond Arena where graduation was held Saturday. He
learned where he would sit, practiced the walk to the stage ramp (which has a
small lip at the beginning) and was told where each university official would be
standing. He practiced shaking hands with UM President Peter Hoff.
The practice paid off, and
Saturday morning before a crowd of 3,000 people, Coleman, 38, blind since age
19, graduated summa cum laude with a bachelor's degree in kinesiology and
physical education.
There was no swan dive, no
missed handshakes and he didn't trip on the lip as some of his friends feared.
Afterward, of course, there
was a big party at Coleman's
Minutes before joining the
procession into Alfond Arena, Coleman chatted with his wife of six years, Ellen
Coleman.
"Really, I'm not nervous. As
long as I know where I'm supposed to be I'm fine. I'm excited and really ready
to have some fun," he said with a quick smile that lit up his eyes.
It was an important
achievement for the former
"Basically it's time for me
to beat the pavement and find a job," he said last week from his home.
Coleman grew up in
"I was always checking the
clock on the far wall, and during this game I glanced up and not only couldn't I
tell what time it was, I couldn't even see the clock," Coleman recalled
recently.
Then the basketball rims
became blurry. He could no longer read.
He saw optometrists and
ophthalmologists and eventually was diagnosed as having multiple sclerosis.
Tests eventually revealed that MS was not his problem.
Then the blotch appeared. A
bright yellowish-white, sparkly blotch that partially blocked his central
vision.
By the next summer, experts
at
He remembers sitting in an
examining room as a doctor spoke to his parents in the hallway. By then, most of
his central vision was gone.
"They must have asked him
whether I would go completely blind, and he said that he suspected that the
blotch would grow, blocking more and more of my vision," he recalled.
Coleman still has some
peripheral vision that allows him to walk unassisted. Though even the peripheral
vision is blurry he can see the outlines of certain things.
Coleman handled the news
better than even he expected. He entertained friends in his hospital room. It
never occurred to him that he would not live a normal life.
Then one day his mother
handed him a get-well card from a friend. Coleman handed it back.
"I can't read it, Ma," he
said.
She cried. And for the first
time, so did he.
"But I cried because I knew
how hard this was on my parents. They didn't want this to happen to their son.
Later when my mother saw that I was going to be OK with this, things got
easier," he said.
While he adapted to the
challenges well -- hanging out with the same friends and living his life -- he
could find only part-time jobs, and a career path seemed elusive.
Then in 1990 he started
dating Ellen, a woman he knew from high school. A year later they married, and,
with her encouragement, Coleman enrolled in his first college course.
Since then his life has been
a flurry of classes, textbooks on tape, lectures on tape, and study guides on
tape.
Those who have ever known
the frustration of trying to find what they are looking for on a cassette tape
would cringe to watch a typical study session.
"Sometimes he'd be using
three tape recorders at once," said Ellen, sitting at the kitchen table where
her husband studied for all those years. "He'd have his textbook, his lecture
and a study guide. He'd be fast-forwarding, rewinding. He'd fast-forward too far
or rewind too far as he searched for the part of the book or lecture he needed,"
While other students relaxed
during semester break, Coleman would prepare for the next semester. As soon as
he learned who his professors would be he would contact them to tell them of his
situation and ask which textbooks he would need.
He would contact a firm in
All students may dread
supplemental reading materials handed out by professors, but for Coleman such
material meant a quick trip to the special needs office to get the reading
recorded as soon as possible.
At some point during his
college career, Coleman chose physical education as his major. He did so despite
being told that school superintendents may be hesitant to hire a blind physical
education teacher because of the liability.
It may not have been the
most practical choice, but it was what he wanted to do.
"I've always loved sports
and physical fitness. This is what I truly wanted to do, and I wasn't going to
let my visual impairment alter that," he said.
Coleman spent time student
teaching at the
Michael Smart, the physical
education teacher in Veazie, called Coleman the best student teacher he had ever
had.
"His excitement comes
through. The kids can tell he loves what he's doing and they respond," Smart
said.
His vision still allows him
to instruct children on technique, Smart said, he just does it up close.
"He gives the students a lot
of feedback. He does it by working with them one on one. At the end of a class,
Steve has connected with each student. A seeing teacher probably doesn't do
that," he said.
Coleman knows that some
schools may be hesitant to hire him, but he is confident in his abilities.
"I can teach kids. I can. I
am a good teacher," said Coleman who has a black belt in karate and also is a
karate instructor.
Smart said Coleman may need
another set of eyes in the room with him, such as a teacher's aide, to combat
the liability issues, but that any school that makes the necessary arrangements
to get Coleman on its staff would be rewarded.
"Not only will the school be
rewarded, but more so the students will be. He's a great teacher with the most
amazing work ethic. The rewards will be great for anyone associated with him,"
said Smart.
Coleman will finish up his
student teaching at
"It may be a tough road, but
so was getting my degree. I know I have a lot to offer. I've never focused on my
disabilities. I have ways to get around the visual impairment. Right now I'm
focusing on the positive and hoping that someone will give me a chance," he
said.
Handicap fails to slow
athlete's karate quest
Coleman's commitment to sport enables success
By Deirdre Fleming
OF THE NEWS STAFF
September 23, 1997
The sounds coming from the
private, wood-paneled gym in Hampden were intense and frightening. But the
reality of the man who made the sharp noise and guttural rumble was more
amazing.
The occasional loud exhale,
woooosh, or the rhythmic cry, eiiaah, conjured images of a man being punched in
the stomach.
As Steve Coleman walked
through the ancient karate moves with his instructor and friend, black belt
Bruce Barker, his high kicks and quick jerks made the sounds all the more
threatening.
When the two men stopped to
work on technique, Coleman faced Barker. Only then was Coleman's handicap
apparent.
As Barker explained a new
series, Coleman nodded and voiced his delight with the new moves. If not for the
fact Coleman looked down at Barker's legs, not into his face, one would never
know the man was visually impaired.
"I was still basically a kid
when I lost my eyesight," said Coleman, 38. "Then, I have to be honest; I wanted
to find something a person could do on their own. I didn't want people to feel
bad for me."
Coleman graduated from
Coleman went to the
Children's Hospital in
"He has lost all central
vision and has very limited peripheral vision," Barker said. "He can detect
darkness and lightness and movement. If someone is in front of him, he can't
tell who they are unless he is spoken to."
The loss for Coleman, who
spent his youth playing team sports, was devastating.
Before Coleman was 12, his
father built half a basketball court, complete with a spotlight, in their
After Coleman lost his
eyesight, he searched for an athletic activity. He recalled seeing man practice
karate at the Bangor YMCA and phoned him.
"I asked him if he was
teaching karate and he said he went to train at a place above the Greyhound
station. He said there is this man named Bruce Barker who is unbelievable,"
Coleman said. "Two decades later I can remember, he said, `I'll be down there
Thursday night.' I went down to meet him. Little did I know this decision would
affect the rest of my life."
A few years after earning
brown belt, Coleman began to teach with Barker, who moved his business to
various locations around
"One of the greatest
decisions I ever made in my life was to try karate. When I met Bruce Barker, it
was a special day," Coleman said. "He was the best man at my wedding. His skill
is unbelievable. But the kind of human being he is, is as great as his skill."
Karate became a calling for
Coleman, then a commitment, now it is a way of life. To maintain the level of
fitness needed as a black belt, Coleman must consistently work on his
conditioning. He says he is paid back twofold for his commitment.
In December, Coleman will
graduate from the
Coleman thought a return to
school in his mid-30s would be difficult because of his handicap, but he
discovered his work as a martial artist gave him the work ethic to succeed.
"When I first made the
decision to go to school it was big. I was in my 30s. The last time I was in
school, I could see," Coleman said. "I think karate has given me a lot of
confidence in life in general and as far as going back to school. I can't
honestly say I wanted to grow up to be a teacher in high school. Seeing how much
I love to teach through karate definitely was a strong influence."
Before Coleman went back to
school, he practiced karate almost every day. It remains in his life, but to a
lesser degree, usually three-to-four times a week.
Watching Coleman work out
with Barker in a friend's gym in Hampden, it's evident they keep up on their
conditioning. After the two finish their workout, they spend half an hour
quietly doing strengthening exercises and stretches.
Coleman lies flat with his
legs suspended a foot off the ground for almost five minutes. He occasionally
looks up and his expression is calm. Then he does 150 crunches, holding the last
one for a minute. He lies flat and holds his legs a foot off the ground for five
minutes.
By the end, Coleman looks
delirious, his face red and dizzy, but he continues.
Through the rest of his
life, Coleman will continue.
"When I lost my eyesight, I
wanted something to be dedicated to and physically active but something I could
do by myself," Coleman said. "Now it's something very personal. Not something I
need to know - or prove. Now after almost two decades of doing it, I'm 38
compared to 19, all those years of blindness, my thoughts are different now. But
those thoughts got me started. I'm just so glad I did. I love it."
Birders flock to annual Audubon
count
December 25, 2002
Chuck Whitney of Ellsworth
came back from leading an Audubon tour in the South, just in time to count birds
for the Orono-Old Town Christmas Bird Count. A loyal counter, he has
participated in this count every year for more than 25 years. Beating the bushes
for birds in the wilds of Eddington, he heard a familiar voice from the South-A
Carolina wren, the state bird of
Christmas Count birders love
finding rare birds and are loyal to their bird counts. Veteran counters Vance
and Evelyn Dearborn of Orono have participated in the Orono count for 34 years
and enjoyed welcoming the newest birder in the group, 3-month-old Andy Marston
who went on his first Christmas Count with his mother.
Birders vary in their
birding skills. Experts are good at finding and identifying rarities, but
neophytes can be good at spotting birds, which experts in their group then can
identify. Birders vary in their level of birding skills, and in abilities and
preferences. When one group stopped, three birders elected to climb over a
railing, then scramble up and down two steep banks to get a look at unusual and
beautiful ducks near the Penjajawoc Stream: Barrow's goldeneyes. The fourth
elected to stay near the car; you can see lots of birds from the car, too.
Some prefer birding in a
group; others prefer to search on their own. One birder routinely hikes 15 miles
the day of this count; most prefer to stay near their cars. Some birders use
their ears as much as, or more than, their eyes. Birds do not usually sing in
winter, they just give call notes. A song is long and structured; a call note is
often just one quick note, much harder to identify.
Steve Coleman of
Bruce Barker is renowned for
his birding skills as well as his karate abilities and teaching. A veteran
Christmas bird counter, he had to work the day of the count, but in a brief
early morning foray, he managed to find a rare bird, a shrike. Nobody else saw
one on this count. Veteran birder Warren Nestler participated in many Christmas
Bird Counts; then he had a stroke. He continues to watch birds at his feeder,
from his wheelchair. And, despite communication challenges, he communicated his
list of observed birds just fine. Birders are irrepressible and cannot be
stopped. Christmas Count participants can participate at any skill and ability
level.
Birders are assigned a
territory; their assignment is to scour their area for birds that are less
common or harder to find and don't come to feeders: eagles, grouse, owls,
pileated woodpeckers, ducks on the
Feeder-watchers watch their
feeders carefully on Christmas Count day and come up with a careful estimate of
how many chickadees and other birds they have in their yard, which is not easy.
Chickadees especially are always on the move.
Birds found on the recent
Orono-Old Town Christmas Bird Count include these 51 species: black duck,
mallard, common goldeneye, Barrow's goldeneye, hooded merganser, common
merganser, osprey, bald eagle, sharp-shinned hawk, goshawk, rough-legged hawk,
red-tailed hawk, ruffed grouse, turkey, pheasant, herring gull, great
black-backed gull, ring-billed gull, rock dove, mourning dove, barred owl, downy
woodpecker, hairy woodpecker, Carolina wren, winter wren, blue jay, crow, raven,
chickadee, tufted titmouse, red-breasted nuthatch, white-breasted nuthatch,
brown creeper, golden-crowned kinglet, robin, mockingbird, shrike, starling,
cardinal, pine warbler, tree sparrow, song sparrow, white-throated sparrow,
junco, purple finch, house finch, white-winged crossbill, goldfinch, pine
siskin, house sparrow.
Christmas Bird Counts are
run by the Audubon Society and are used by ornithologists to monitor winter bird
populations. All counting must be on the day designated by its compiler (not
Christmas itself, but typically some weekend between Dec. 14 and Jan. 4) and
within a 15-mile diameter circle registered with the Audubon Society.
The next Christmas count in
our area is the Bangor-Bucksport one, on Dec. 28. Those who want to participate
can call the
Judy Kellogg Markowsky is
the director of
PVC Summit attracts 200
By Jessica Bloch
OF THE NEWS STAFF
November 16, 2000
But Smith, who grew up in Monson
and attended Foxcroft Academy, played Division I basketball at the University of
Maine from 1986-89 and became an electrical engineer, just like he knew he
would.
And Coleman, who played on the
Both men, as Smith puts it, proved
their critics 100 percent, pie-in-their-face wrong. Through hard work both men
achieved their goals - the theme of their speeches to more than 200
student-athletes at the Penobscot Valley Conference Student-Athlete Summit
Wednesday morning.
Students, athletic directors and
coaches from 27 PVC schools attended the second annual summit, which was held at
In between speakers - also
featured were University of Maine women's basketball coach Sharon Versyp and
John Winkin of Husson's Sports Leadership Institute - the students told athletic
directors and coaches what they thought of substance abuse and academic
eligibility policies and whether the PVC needs league-wide policies.
Eight students from each school
(two from each class year) attended. Students were mixed up at the tables so
that different age groups, genders and classifications were represented at each
table.
For Dexter junior Kristy Veazie
the summit was more than an excused day from school.
"I think it's really good because
you get to talk to kids from other schools about their policies," she said. "You
kind of see how your school is compared to other schools in your area."
The students and administrators
talked about whether students should have to pass core subjects like English and
math and not electives; whether students should be allowed to make up credits in
probation or summer school; and if students should have to pass all their
subjects or be allowed to fail only one class.
Some groups came to the agreement
that students should have to pass all classes. Veazie disagreed with that.
"If you can't fail a class, most
people will tend to take easy classes," she said.
As for a substance abuse policy,
the groups discussed differences in punishment for drugs, alcohol, and tobacco;
whether a drug policy would affect the offseason or preseason; and if offenses
carry over from year to year.
While there were a variety of
opinions and suggestions about leaguewide policies, the student-athletes agreed
on at least one point - a policy should be meant for students who participate in
all extracurricular activities, not just sports.
Coleman began to suffer from a
rare optic nerve disorder at the age of 19 and is nearly blind except for some
peripheral vision. He decided to go to college and was nearly finished with his
degree in kinesiology and physical education when he was told no
It was discouraging to hear,
Coleman said, but he didn't take the warning to heart. In 1998 he was hired to
teach physical education at
"If I can leave you with any kind
of message at all, it's the idea of believing in yourself," Coleman said. "That
strong work ethic of working hard for your goals and your dreams is so
important."
Smith, a multiple honoree for both
athletics and academics and the winner of the NCAA Walter Byers Post Graduate
Fellowship as the top student-athlete honor in the country, took the morning off
from his work at Sensor Research and Development Corporation in Orono to talk to
the PVC students.
"I never had a chance to
talk with people that were my idols, that participated in college athletics and
had been through things," Smith said after his speech. "It would have been nice
to have that, and for that reason it's extremely important that I come."
Disabled birders become experts at watching by ear
By Deborah Turcotte
OF THE NEWS STAFF
May 10, 1999
HOLDEN -- It was a
theatrical presentation that could be unmatched by a polished Broadway troupe.
The conductor, trained and in sync with all on the outdoor stage. The backdrop,
explosions of the vibrant colors of spring.
It was an interactive
performance -- a bird walk Saturday at the Maine Audubon Society on
"What's that chirp, chirp?"
asked 10-year-old Khem Milley, a blind Surry boy who tried to repeat the bird's
song while he held a walking stick in one hand, his brother Jerry's arm in the
other.
"That's a robin, and you did
a pretty good imitation of that bird," said Steve Coleman, the blind man who led
the trek down the paths branching from the society's building.
A
"There's a red-winged
blackbird," Coleman announced, arm extended as his finger pointed in the sound's
direction. His audience would turn and look in the direction he was pointing.
It was magical, and I was in
awe, for those knowing where to turn, listen -- and look -- were blind. I had to
first notice Coleman's finger, then turn and tilt my ear in that direction.
Most of the 12 people on the
two-hour walk had some kind of disability -- five were blind, one was
hearing-impaired, and another needed crutches to help him walk. Three guide dogs
accompanied the participants. One was being trained, another was working, and
another was enjoying his retirement years.
But only one person felt
disadvantaged -- me. At one point I closed my eyes to the beauty around me,
wanting to turn off my sight and focus on the birds' songs, as the sounds were
carried toward us on a light wind. I wanted to separate the lyrics of a swamp
sparrow from those of a northern flicker. I wanted to distinguish the hermit
thrush from the wood frog. I wanted to know what these winged wonders and swamp
creatures were talking about.
Instead, I was more aware of
what was close to me than what was being projected from trees more than 25 feet
away. Because I had seen them moments earlier, I knew that two dogs, Cody and
Gail, were standing beside me, and I knew Khem Milley was a few feet away. I
could hear the dogs panting. Then Khem started a soft, appreciative laugh. I
opened my eyes and saw him swaying back and forth, a smile stretching across his
face. He could see each of the birds through their music. He could separate each
sound. He was dancing.
And I was jealous. For me,
the music blended together like a symphony. For the others, they could tell each
instrument -- the flute being played by a hermit thrush and the tuba bellowed by
a wood frog.
"Many people consider it the
most beautiful of the bird songs," Coleman said of the hermit thrush. "Its vocal
cords are different, so it comes out like a flute sound, a very high-pitched
sound."
Then came a word from our
sponsors, although the sponsors didn't know they were there.
"Doing this last year, and
doing this now, I have a greater appreciation this time," said Marge Awalt of
"It's an improvement on the
cuckoo clocks," Hugh said later.
The "Singing Bird Clock" is
a timepiece with pictures of 12 birds representing each hour. When the big hand
strikes the top of an hour and the little hand points at a bird, the song of
that bird fills the room.
The clock -- which some
perceive as a gimmick advertised in Sunday newspaper magazines and coupon
circulars -- has become a learning tool for the blind. Marge, Khem and Gabriel
Milley, Khem's 8-year-old brother, recognized some of the birds outside the
Audubon building because they had heard them first on their clocks.
Eighteen different birds
were heard Saturday, from pine siskins to solitary vireos, bluebirds and blue
jays. Afterward, inside the Audubon Society, Don Tarbet demonstrated an
interactive computer program he is designing that plays the bird songs, and airs
descriptions of the birds' characteristics. It also carries a quiz. "And this
one," the program says, then plays a bird song. You say your answer and hit a
key to see if you were correct.
On Saturday, Tarbet and his
son, Brandon, had set up the program to play the songs of spring birds at Fields
Pond. A song filled the room. "That's a flicker," Gabriel answered.
The program's creation is
being funded by a grant from the Stephen and Tabitha King Foundation, Tarbet
said.
Throughout the afternoon,
Gabriel was fixated on the songs from mourning doves. "I heard a mourning dove
once," he said a couple times. He did hear one Saturday.
"That was a mourning dove?"
I asked after hearing the song. Gabriel said yes. I learned something new. A
mourning dove sings regularly outside my apartment windows. For more than two
years, I thought it was some sort of owl. I was wrong.
I need to buy a "Singing
Bird Clock."
Program aids college-bound teens
By Jeff Tuttle
OF THE NEWS STAFF
November 15, 1999
ORONO -- Not everyone at a
family reunion has to know each other.
At the University of Maine
on Saturday, about 150 high school students in the state's Upward Bound program
met -- some for the first time -- at the group's first statewide student summit.
And while Amber
Manoy-Harris, a 17-year-old junior from
"It's a family," said
Manoy-Harris, who arrived with a group of about 35 students from
Upward Bound is a federally
funded program designed to help high school students from low-income,
first-generation college families attend and succeed at college. In
The state's flagship campus
also conducts the
Like the majority of those
attending on Saturday, Manoy-Harris, who aims to study music therapy at tiny
The resulting isolation --
and socioeconomic pressures that often accompany it -- can make college seem a
remote possibility, according to Linda Ives, director of the university's Upward
Bound program. Ives said Saturday's summit was designed, in part, to reinforce
the idea that these students are anything but alone.
"This is a chance for these
kids to meet other kids just like them all over the state," Ives said. "Teens
today, what they want is a sense of belonging, and these kids can see that they
are part of a larger network of people who care about their success."
The program offers
assistance with college applications and financial aid, as well as academic
preparation and work experience. The year-round program also includes an
intensive six-week residential term at each of the five centers, where students
forge strong friendships and support networks, she said.
The message at Saturday's
summit was clear: Seemingly insurmountable challenges, whether economic or
otherwise, are no match for high aspirations.
Perhaps nothing brought that
message home more than the morning keynote address from Steve Coleman with UM's
"I never let the negative
thoughts take me over," said Coleman, recounting the painstaking and often
frustrating process of taking courses with the aid of audiocassettes. "Of course
you have to acknowledge the tough times, but don't let them stop you from going
toward your goal."
Several Upward Bound alumni
and staff were on hand to lead parts of Saturday's program, which also included
games, discussion groups, college informational sessions and a campus tour.
Ian Sawyer, a three-year
alumnus of the Upward Bound program, recounted between activities the effect
Upward Bound had on his college career. Sawyer, now a UM sophomore studying
secondary education, said Saturday that, while a student at Narraguagus High
School, the program exposed him to the social and academic aspects of college
life.
"It helped me tremendously,"
said the 19-year-old from Harrington. "Between improving my study skills and
teaching me how to live with other people, it prepared me well."
Students at Saturday's event
agreed.
Brandi Slauenwhite, 16, a
junior at
"It's helping me get ready
to get into the outside world," she said. "I'm ready to do just that."