Six Dots That Changed the World:
In Remembrance of Louis Braille (1809–2009)
Presented by Euclid Herie, CM
The Seventh World Blind Union General Assembly
Geneva, Switzerland
August 2008
In commemoration of the birth of Louis Braille
Paris, France
January 2009
Mr. Chairman, honoured guests, ladies and gentlemen
A few years ago, on a fine May morning, I found myself sitting on a bench in a small garden behind a modest, even humble, dwelling.
I could hear birdsong and felt a gentle breeze touching my cheek. The air was redolent of freshly cut hay and the heady fragrance of roses, lilacs and the bright orange poppies that grow along the hedgerows in that part of the world.
I had come to this place, La Maison Natale de Louis Braille, as many have done before and after me, on a pilgrimage to learn more about this man who is a hero to all of us. I wanted to feel closer to him, and perhaps even touch something that he had once held in his own two remarkable hands.
Born on January 4, 1809, in Coupvray, France, a village about 36 miles east of Paris, Louis Braille was a contemporary of two other notable men – Abraham Lincoln and Charles Darwin. All three were born within weeks of one another, and all three – in their own way – changed the world. In the way of many talented people, Lincoln and Darwin achieved greatness with their signature work later in life. But Louis Braille had developed and refined his ingenious code by the time he was just 15. Do you find that as astonishing as I do?
Today, as we honour his place in history by marking the 200 years since his birth, we celebrate his great gift to humankind and pay tribute to his creative genius. It is my privilege to speak on behalf of every blind person who has found liberation through literacy.
The Braille cell is deceptively simple: an arrangement of six tiny raised dots – two across and three down, creating a possible 63 patterns – that’s all. But it is so much more than that.
Not only does the Braille code work in most, if not all, languages, with their complexities of punctuation marks, contractions, phonetics and accents, but it is also versatile enough to be used in literary, musical, mathematical and computer applications. And, despite passionate disagreements over the variations and use of the literary and mathematical codes, the fundamental Braille system has endured, giving people who are blind a universal means of written communication.
So clever, and of such profound importance.
And if its beauty lies in its simplicity, the ingeniousness of Braille lies in its timeless versatility.
Despite the huge technical advances of the past 200 years, most especially in our own time, Braille has withstood all these changes and remains the communication vehicle of choice for most people who are blind. Braille has bridged the chasm between ancient prejudice and darkness on one side and enlightenment and freedom on the other.
With the arrival of the digital age, many people, both blind and sighted, predicted the death of Braille in all its forms. I’m here to assure you that nothing could be further from the truth. Technological advances, however, have been useful to us in the way Braille is created. We have moved on from the early days of creating brailled text with a slate and stylus, to mechanical Braille writing machines, to now being able to publish brailled documents using computers and high-speed presses. And web-based digital Braille has created unimaginable opportunities for producing Braille in every home, schoolroom or workplace, in virtually any community. All that is required is a web-access device and some electronic or mechanical means of embossing the Braille dots.
But let’s think for a moment what Braille really means. In the broader context, Braille is a great deal more than a six-dot writing system gifted to the world by its architect, Louis Braille, nearly two centuries ago. Braille is literacy that has brought independence and empowerment to the blind of the world, through knowledge and lifelong learning. It has transformed lives, lifted millions out of poverty, enabled countless numbers of intelligent, hard-working people to perform responsible, meaningful work, contribute to their communities, provide for their families and enjoy rich, fulfilled lives.
From my time in Coupvray, I came to know Louis Braille as an intellectually and musically gifted man who enjoyed getting away from the hustle and bustle of Paris to restore and refresh himself in the tranquility of the French countryside of the early nineteenth century, surrounded by his friends and family.
He was not famous when he died.
Well, he’s famous now.
His birthplace is not only a museum but a World Heritage Site; his image has been replicated on commemorative coins, statues and portraits and has been featured on postage stamps around the world.
In 1952, fully 100 years after his death, his remains were moved from the pastoral churchyard of his beloved Coupvray to the Pantheon in Paris. Here, he rests alongside France’s most highly esteemed intellectuals, including Voltaire, Rousseau, Marat, Victor Hugo and Émile Zola. At the commemoration service, one observer remarked that, “we, the blind, are as indebted to Louis Braille as mankind is to Gutenberg.”
The decision to move Braille’s remains, against the wishes of some members of his family and the Coupvray community, was not without controversy. For this reason, his precious hands remained behind at the original burial site, entombed in a simple urn. And now, his life’s great work lives on into its third century.
In the first century of Braille usage, few blind adults had access to it, because literacy was not extended to the poorer classes. In that regard, we note how fortunate young Louis was to have been sent to school in Paris. Indeed, blind children, both male and female, in many countries, had better access to education through schools for the blind than did their sighted contemporaries.
By the dawn of the second century of Braille, it was becoming more available to individuals of all ages, in most countries, and now, in its third century, we await to see what will come. What we do know is that teaching and learning Braille is not something that is done for its own sake, but for the sake of what wondrous doors it will open for those who use it.
As I was writing this, I searched for a powerful and visible tribute to Louis Braille and his life’s great achievement. Suddenly it came to me that we already have one. Reflecting on my first visit to the famed St. Paul’s Cathedral in London, I remembered the inscription on the inlaid brass ring surrounding the tomb of its brilliant architect, Sir Christopher Wren, who lies buried beneath the great dome. “If you seek his memorial,” the inscription reads, “look about you.”
And so I say to you now that if you would seek a memorial to Louis Braille, look about you. Whenever a blind person reads, two hands gliding gracefully across a page of brailled text, there is the living memorial to Louis Braille.
An accomplished, educated and literate man, Louis Braille would have wanted nothing more.
And of course, he will always live on because his invention bears his name. That, I think, would have astounded him.
I wish he could have known in his lifetime the significance of his great gift to humankind. I wish he were here today so we could thank him in person and let him know, in some small way, the enormous success his invention became.
Millions of lives.
Two hundred years.
Six magic dots.
I ask all of you here today to please stand, and may our applause be heard across the three centuries of Braille.
Louis Braille, we thank you from our hearts and minds.