Investor's Business Daily, June 21st, 2007
A job well done shows up in the result. Anne Sullivan Macy spent her career making that result work.
For nearly 50 years, Sullivan Macy was the kind, patient and brilliant teacher behind her blind and deaf pupil Helen Keller. Many people who have a chance to gain fame reach for it, but not Sullivan Macy (1866-1936). Her aim was to make sure Keller succeeded.
Born in Feeding Hills, near Springfield, Mass., Sullivan was the daughter of poor Irish immigrants John and Mary Sullivan. When she was a youngster, her mother died. Her father was abusive and worked little.
For a couple of years, other poor relatives helped support her, but when she turned 10 she was deposited at the poorhouse, called the State Infirmary, in Tewksbury, Mass.
To make matters worse, she was partially blind due to a childhood illness. At the infirmary, sympathetic doctors performed two eye operations but her sight didn't improve.
Unbowed by adversity, she was determined to boost her situation. She learned that Frank Sanborn, chairman of the State Board of Charities, sometimes visited the infirmary. Knowing he could help, Sullivan approached him during one of his visits and pleaded with him to let her join the Perkins Institution for the Blind in Boston. After hearing her story and seeing her will to succeed, Sanborn agreed.
She entered Perkins in 1880 and eagerly soaked up everything they offered. Using her fingers, she studied an early form of today's Braille. She spent hours each day going over the letters, tracing each until she'd memorized it. She made every minute count with constant studying.
Her hard work led to a strong academic record. Impressed by her efforts, doctors several years later performed two new surgeries on her eyes and restored her vision.
Elated, she plunged into reading with her eyes. Still, she'd already learned to work with her fingers and wanted to help others. She befriended Laura Bridgman, a blind student, and taught her the method of reading with her hands.
Six years later, Sullivan graduated as valedictorian of her class.
Her dedication paid off. Helen Keller's father wrote to Perkins seeking help for his daughter. An illness had left the child blind, deaf and dumb when she was 19 months old. Sullivan's stellar grades and extra work with Bridgman lassoed the attention of Perkins' staff. It assigned Sullivan to teach Keller.
When told of the assignment, Sullivan refused to feel afraid of the huge responsibility she faced. Instead, she approached it like an adventure. After all, she figured, she'd never left the state, and this was her opportunity. The school sent her to Keller's home in Tuscumbia, Ala. On March 3, 1887, Sullivan met her pupil, Helen, three months before she turned 7 years old. It was "the most important day I remember in all my life," Keller later said.
Keller behaved like an untrained animal, running around the house and grabbing food from others' plates. She threw tantrums. Sullivan's job looked daunting.
Sullivan reasoned that any child who was largely cut off from normal communication with others but was still able to survive must have the ability to learn. She dug in and started lessons.
She thought up an unusual way of teaching Keller the alphabet. Sullivan knew Keller navigated her world by touch. Working with that knowledge, Sullivan used touch as the basis for communication. She began using sign language to spell words into Keller's palm. Though Keller didn't know what they meant, she could repeat the signs and spell them in Sullivan's hand.
Once certain Keller was intrigued by the game, Sullivan built on that success. She would spell a word and place the item she'd just spelled in Keller's hands. It was slow going. Keller hadn't made the connection between the items and the hand movements, and would throw fits when she tired of it all. Sullivan persisted. She'd spell D-O-L-L and put a doll into Keller's arms. She's spell B-R-E-A-D and C-A-N-D-Y and place them in her hands and mouth.
One day, she spelled W-A-T-E-R and put Keller's hand under a pump to feel the liquid. Keller spelled the word back excitedly and put her hand under the flow from the pump. Sullivan saw the smile on Keller's face: She had grasped the concept of words. Keller began running around the yard, grasping at things and gesturing for Sullivan to spell what they were. Within a month, Keller learned that everything had a name and she could communicate.
Sullivan wanted Keller to communicate with hearing people who didn't know sign language. Once Keller mastered spelling, Sullivan taught Keller to speak. She had Keller put her hand on Sullivan's throat and lips to feel the vibrations she made when speaking. Then she had Keller mimic the motions.
Sullivan's work gained her international recognition from organizations that aided the blind and deaf.
Even with her charge grown up, Sullivan continued to work at her task of teaching Keller. She attended college with her, spelling lectures into Keller's hand. Even after she married John Macy, Sullivan spent months touring with Keller for speeches and book tours, serving as her interpreter and aide.
At Macy's 67th birthday, Keller toasted her: "Here's to my teacher, whose birthday was the Easter morning of my life."
This story originally ran Nov. 11, 2003, on Leaders & Success.
