This is an article from Radio Talking Book which can be found on the web by clicking here.
Berkeley scientist designs tools for the visually impaired
By Berenice Freedome • Mar 2, 2016
Dr. Joshua Miele’s morning commute to Smith-Kettlewell Eye Research Institute takes about an hour—as long as no one gets in the way. In fact, most people move out of his way when they see him coming, because Miele is blind.
He’s one of about 140,000 blind and visually impaired people in the Bay Area. Less than three quarters of those people are employed, and only a few work in tech, like Dr. Miele.
Uncommonly Universal
His office in Pacific Heights is full of tactile art, project binders, awards, and audio equipment. On a round meeting table, magnetic building toys sit in a cluster—just something to fiddle with on long calls. This is where Miele does the work he’s uniquely suited to do, designing accessible technologies for the blind.
“If you want to design a good boat,” he says, “you don’t ask somebody who doesn’t know the first thing about sailing. Blind people must be integral to the design process, not just as users that do the testing at the end, but as designers and engineers who do the thinking at the very beginning.”
Miele says most developers don’t even think about accessibility until it’s too late, because so few are trained in universal design. That’s a design principle that says, ‘find a single solution that will consider the broadest possible spectrum of human ability.’ It’s something Miele strives for every time he takes something on, though he mainly focuses on visual impairment.
“I want to build cool stuff for blind people that gives them the ability to do the things that they want to do, and I feel incredibly lucky that I’m given that privilege and opportunity.”
He can pretty much choose his projects, too, because Dr. Miele directs his own innovation lab here at Smith-Kettlewell.
The Moment Things Changed
But getting to this place in his life wasn’t easy.
“I grew up in New York. I was a sighted kid until I was almost five, and then I was burned in a very violent act where somebody threw sulfuric acid over my head.”
That’s the chemical that powers car batteries. A single drop can dissolve concrete. Thankfully, specialists at a San Antonio military hospital were able to save Miele’s life. But not his eyes. His left eye is now a synthetic blue-gray, and as he speaks, the shadow of his right eye darts beneath the scar tissue that covers most of his face, all haloed by his thick, curly black hair.
“My personal story is shocking and frightening and painful and often it’s difficult for people to get past that, I think.”
Although, he says where he lives, people seem to take it in stride.
“Difference and diversity is much more accepted, even embraced here. Being a burned, one-eyed blind guy in Berkeley doesn’t even get you a second glance most of the time.”
The Pursuit of Science
The acceptance he found in Berkeley went inward, too. Coming to study physics at UC Berkeley at age 18 changed his entire outlook.
“I met a whole community of cool blind people who I respected and liked and who were creative and smart and funny,” he says. ”I realized that I did want to be a blind person. I could be proud of being a blind person.”
Even so, working in accessibility wasn’t Miele’s plan. His dream was space science, so he studied physics and interned at NASA. But every time he took on something new, he struggled. He wasn’t able to do a lot of things that sighted students took for granted, like reading a cafeteria menu, or riding a bike to class. Or, more importantly, being able to use the school’s scientific software, which he had to do,