‘Helen Keller Who?’
She died 30 years ago this month, and young people don’t know who she was
by Jay Copp

When a rare photo of an eight-year-old Helen Keller was discovered and released in March, newspapers across the country printed it. Interest in Keller zoomed. “The story was literally everywhere for two days,” said Tom Champoux of the New England Historic Genealogical Society, which released the photo. “We were shocked by the amount of interest in Helen Keller. It was overwhelming.”

Forty years after her death, Helen Keller, who died June 1, 1968, remains a cultural touchstone. Her accomplishments despite her blindness and deafness continue to amaze and inspire.

Yet her status as a cultural icon is in danger. Up until the 1980s, most schoolchildren read her biography The Story of My Life, or at least an excerpt of it. Teachers today rarely assign the book, according to curriculum experts. A cultural divide has opened up. Young people know her name and crude jokes related to her disability. But the outlines of her life and the scope of her achievements are a mystery.

“There is an instant name recognition [with Keller]. But they don’t know the details of her life,” said Laurie Lawlor, author of the young adult book Helen Keller: Rebellious Spirit. Apart from isolated cases, her autobiography is “no longer taught,” says Carol Jajo, a curriculum specialist, teacher and author of With Rigor for All: Teaching the Classics to Contemporary Students. “I wonder if it is in most middle school libraries. One certainly hopes so.”

Adds Champoux, “A whole young generation does not know her. They may know she was blind and deaf and did great things but that’s all they know.”

Keller’s dwindling fame was observed at least five years ago. The Chicago Tribune ran a long feature story in 2003 headlined Where Have You Gone, Helen Keller? Her book had vanished from schools because its old-fashioned writing style, the popularity of young adult books portraying typical teen-age problems and the need to include multicultural books in reading lists. Literate young people interviewed for the newspaper story knew shockingly little about Keller.

Cultural heroes come and go, of course. But Keller’s remarkable story seemed to promise immortality. She had been trapped in darkness and ignorance until the momentous day that Annie Sullivan held her hand under a water pump and spelled out “water.” That spark of understanding of language unleashed Keller’s great intelligence and drive. She mastered Braille in five languages, became the first deaf and blind person to earn a bachelor’s degree and then enjoyed a long, storied public career as a lecturer and activist. An awed Mark Twain compared her to Caesar and Shakespeare. The writer predicted, “She will be as famous a thousand years from now as she is today.”

Twain was on the mark at least up until the 1960s when Keller regularly appeared near the top of Gallup polls ranking the most admired women. Her appeal transcended borders and cultures. Just two years ago she finished eighth in a poll asking Japanese to choose their 100 favorite historical persons. She was the second American listed, behind only Thomas Edison at number 2.  Keller’s story was so appealing that Sullivan came in at number 92, ahead of Abraham Lincoln, Chopin and Isaac Newton.

Despite Keller’s exclusion from the classroom, her story continues to attract admirers.  Ivy Green, her simple, white clapboard childhood home in Tuscumbia, Alabama, has been preserved as a shrine. Displayed are original clothes, toys and Braille books and typewriter. This summer some 55,000 people are expected to attend the 47th annual staging of The Miracle Worker, the story of Keller and Sullivan. Visitors worldwide make a beeline to the water pump. “The water pump speaks many languages. It doesn’t matter how old you are or where you are from,” said Sue Pilkilton, executive director of Ivy Green.

Those enduring hardships or challenges find Keller’s triumph particularly appealing. One of the visitors to Ivy Green last summer was a 10-year-old Utah girl with Down syndrome. “Her dad said if you get good grades in school you can go where you want,” recounted Pilkilton. “She got good grades and he asked her where do you want to go: ‘Tuscumbia, Alabama.’ ”

The Miracle Worker continues to introduce people to Keller. “It’s never been off the stage, done continuously in all countries since its Broadway premier [in 1959],” said William Gibson, 93, in an e-mail. Gibson originally wrote the story for television, and a popular 1962 movie of the same name, starring Anne Bancroft as Sullivan and Patty Duke as Keller and directed by Arthur Penn, won two Oscars. Gibson said that “the overt story, of a child rescued from a cave, is of universal appeal to start with.” He added, “As a  boy, I, too, read Helen’s autobiography … but saw no recurrence in my own kids’ schooling.”

A longtime writer for young adults, Lawlor wrote her biography on Keller in 2001 after a publisher approached her. “They saw a need for a book on Keller for young adults,” said Lawlor of Evanston, Illinois. “She did more than just overcome being blind and deaf. She was a pacifist and a socialist. She was more than a plaster saint.”

Lawlor’s book is still in print, and a segment on the book still runs on C-SPAN2. For all the lack of awareness of Keller, people who do learn of her story are mesmerized. “There’s something very powerful about her heroism that won’t die. People are drawn to her sense of bravery and compassion. There is something very timeless and evergreen about her story,” Lawlor said.

When she taught middle school in the 1970s, Jago had her students read Keller’s autobiography and watch a documentary on her life. A curriculum consultant, she recently included an excerpt from Keller’s book in an anthology for seventh graders published by Holt McDougal. “To my mind Keller’s story is timeless and truly an inspiration for anyone overcoming obstacles,” Jago said.

Even if shunted aside in schools, Keller’s star once shown so bright and her achievements were so dramatic that she continues to make the news and otherwise receive recognition. In one sense at least, Keller has attained the cultural permanence of Washington, Lincoln and others whose images are found on U.S. currency. A few years ago the state of Alabama issued a quarter with Keller’s likeness. Ivy Green is accustomed to such bursts of fame. “Something new will break from time to time that brings her back on top,” Pilkilton said.

Keller’s legacy is certainly assured among Lions. Her challenge at the Lions’ convention in 1925 to be Knights of the Blind gave Lions their main mission. Her connection with Lions is prominently featured on the Web site of Lions Clubs International and in its other printed materials and in the newsletters and Web sites of innumerable Lions clubs and districts. International officers and directors and district governors reference Keller in their visits to clubs, and a re-enactment of her 1925 speech took place at the international convention in Chicago last year.

Lions name awards after Keller, cite her in speeches and tell non-Lions of her role in Lions’ history. Lions of Alabama established and maintain the Helen Keller Memorial Park at Ivy Green; the park contains gifts from admiring Lions from more than three dozen nations. Lions are among the most frequent visitors to Ivy Green.

Keller’s rising above her disability resonates with Lions, who help others help themselves and try to give people at a disadvantage the opportunity to prosper. Given a chance by Sullivan, Keller proved to be the ultimate champion of self-improvement.

Keller once eloquently pleaded with Lions for their help. The final irony of her life may be that as those who learned of her in school age and pass away themselves, it will be up to Lions to keep not only her mission but also her memory alive.

Lion Knew Helen Keller
How many Lions are left who knew Helen Keller? Gale Brown, 83, of the Clay Lions Club in West Virginia is one. He was a staffer for the American Association of Workers for the Blind when Keller spoke at their 1952 convention in Baltimore.

Brown, who would become a Lion a decade later, stood next to Keller in the receiving line and assisted her with introductions to the convention attendees. Polly Thomson, Keller’s assistant, had told Brown to always identify himself to Keller by placing Keller’s hands over the closed fist of his left hand and use his right hand to pull her hands against his chest.

“She was a very pleasant, very warm person,” recalls Brown about Keller. She also had a keen memory. In 1954, Keller again spoke at his association’s convention in Philadelphia and when Brown himself passed through the receiving line he used his old greeting from Baltimore. “Mr. Brown from Maryland,” Keller beamed.

Brown’s job with the association entailed teaching Braille and the use of the white cane; one of his students, recently retired from the Library of Congress, was the first totally blind person to be enrolled in a Maryland public school.