Kiana Glanton on losing her vision, adaptive parenting, and breaking stereotypes
When Kiana Glanton’s daughter was three years old, everything changed. The autoimmune disease that had been affecting Kiana’s vision for years reached a turning point—she was moving from visual impairment toward legal blindness. As a single mom navigating New York City with a preschooler, the fear was overwhelming. But Kiana didn’t have time to stay in that fear. So she did what mothers do: she figured it out.
She found Lighthouse Guild, learned to use a cane, and invited her daughter to become her partner in navigating the world. Together, they developed a system of hand squeezes at crosswalks and picked out bejeweled canes to match outfits. Now, at 42, Kiana is the captain of Team USA’s blind baseball team, works full-time using adaptive technology, and is raising a confident 10-year-old who thinks her mom is “super fly and super strong”—and just happens to be blind. In a candid conversation on The Motherly Podcast, she opens up about losing her vision while raising a young child, the adaptive technology that’s changed everything, and why her daughter is her greatest teammate.
Meet the expert: Kiana Glanton is a mom, athlete, and advocate living in New York City. Diagnosed with sarcoidosis—an autoimmune disease similar to lupus—she experienced significant vision loss beginning when her daughter was a toddler and is now legally blind, moving toward total blindness. Through Lighthouse Guild, she learned adaptive skills and found community, eventually becoming captain of Team USA’s blind baseball team and helping the U.S. earn its first-ever medal in the sport. She works full-time using adaptive technology and is raising her 10-year-old daughter, who she calls her “seeing eye daughter” and partner in navigating the world. Known for her bejeweled canes, red lipstick, and fierce determination to break stereotypes about disability, Kiana is proof that blindness doesn’t define you—how you show up does.
Liz Tenety: What surprised you about motherhood?
Kiana Glanton: I was surprised that my heart could grow so big. I knew that I loved my nieces and nephews. I watched deliveries. But when she took her first breath, I was like, OK, I see why I’m on this planet. I see why I’m here. And my capacity to love expanded exponentially. I can’t even put into numbers how big my world and responsibility became.
Liz Tenety: When did you realize you were losing your vision?
Kiana Glanton: I have an autoimmune disease called sarcoidosis. It’s very similar to lupus in that my immune system is very compromised and inflammatory cells attack my body. For me, it was the joints, the skin, and most prominently my eyes. Currently I have no sight in my left eye and my right eye has some sight, but it’s 20 over 800. So it’s considered legally blind and moving towards total blindness. I’m a Black American woman with ice blue eyes. I was born with brown eyes and 20/20 vision.
Over the last five years was significant visual impairment. By the time my daughter was three, four is when it became clear that I was going to move from visual impairment and needing glasses to significant visual impairment. So I learned how to use a cane and I learned new skills, and my daughter was like my teammate, my cheerleader during this time.
Liz Tenety: What was that experience like inside, especially with such a small child that you’re responsible for?
Kiana Glanton: It was tough. When we think about identity, we think about the way we show up, the way we present ourselves—skin color, hair, eye color, makeup, jewelry. And for me, that all came into question because there wasn’t a mirror that was accurate for me any longer. But what I knew while that image was changing is that my daughter didn’t care. She needed her juice box and she wanted her snacks. She wanted her stuffies. So I had to quickly decide who I was going to be and present some type of strength for her. I was forced into really exploring and deciding who I wanted to be, and I needed help. That came in the form of Lighthouse Guild. Initially, it was a support group of other moms who recently lost their sight.
Liz Tenety: What were some of the biggest ways that your life changed?
Kiana Glanton: The first thing was coming up with a plan for how I was going to support my daughter and myself. I didn’t know how I was literally going to read an Excel sheet, how I was going to pick her up from school, how I was going to teach her how to write her name. She used to write her Rs backwards and I didn’t know until the teacher pointed it out.
I decided to help my daughter be a partner. I would learn stuff and I would teach her. So the first thing I learned how to do was to use my cane to get her back and forth to school. My mobility instructor would let me hold my daughter on my left side and my cane in my right side. And as he taught me the skills—how to cross the street, how to listen for the traffic passing by, how to listen for the wind, feel the sun on my face to interpret east, west—he taught my daughter as well.
My daughter very early would squeeze my hand when the crossing signal would change. She would squeeze two hands if she felt like she was unsure. So two squeezes, I’m not sure. One hard squeeze is let’s go, mommy. And this became part of the team effort to get us back and forth. I wanted to make sure she felt included and that she understood that she was important, but that mommy was the leader in this and that we were gonna do this together.
Liz Tenety: Your interdependence with your daughter looks different than other families’ interdependence. Can you talk about what’s good about relying on one another?
Kiana Glanton: Each person at Lighthouse Guild works to determine what’s the best path for their unique goal. For me, being able to get around independently and work independently is important, but she’s always watching me. I like to say that I’m breaking barriers, breaking stereotypes, and my baby is watching. Her interactions with me are super important.
So we just each day set out a different goal. Today it was to stay warm because it was super cold and we had to navigate ice. Her hand squeezes even though she’s a 10-year-old were different. It was “mommy we’re coming up on an ice patch, let’s move to the left.” Every day it’s a little bit different and I’m blessed and fortunate to have her by my side. But I’ve also got the skills that once I put her on the school bus, I’ve got to get to work, I’ve got to grab lunch, I’ve got to go back and pick her up from school. So really it is me using every tool that’s in my tool belt, depending on the job, to figure out how I’m going to navigate successfully and safely.
Liz Tenety: What advice do you have for those of us who are not navigating the world with blindness for how to be a supportive, inclusive person?
Kiana Glanton: If you happen to see someone who is blind or appears to have a visual impairment, first thing you do is identify yourself. You could say, “Hi, I’m Cathy, and you look like you need a little bit of help, may I offer some assistance?” Because there are times that it becomes offensive to us to assume that we need your help. We are just figuring things out. There are times that I’m gonna walk towards a wall, but I need that wall to orient myself.
Number two is to not grab or touch someone without permission. You could say, “I’d like to offer my hand or my arm for you. Is that okay? Or what’s the best way that I can support you?” For me, it’s very jarring. It can be really tough for someone to just touch you because they might have a response that could be violent or jarring.
And just being curious—you can share a small anecdote as you’re speaking to someone about what you think because a lot of times we’re happy to educate or we’re happy to share an experience rather than the awkwardness, the staring or the whispering about what’s happening. There’s usually an opportunity for a connection or for education if you first identify your curiosity and your willingness to help.
Liz Tenety: How has navigating motherhood as a blind woman shaped you in general as a mom?
Kiana Glanton: The level of responsibility that I have to demonstrate life and model the behaviors I want her to be mindful of is ever present. So laziness, she’s watching. Eating unhealthy, she’s watching. If I don’t care about how I present because I can’t fully see it, she’s watching.
I tell her every day, you make sure you put on some chapstick. Do not go outside looking like a mess. Mommy never goes outside looking like a mess. For my visually impaired friends that may be listening, I have on lipstick today. I made sure my eyeshadow was looking like I wanted it to look. My daughter picked out my clothes. We picked out a special cane because I take pride in my appearance. When I’m at work, I want to be presentable and professional. When I’m hanging out with friends, stylish and fun. When I’m on that field, I always have on hoops and a red lip.
I’m just very present. And she’s very vocal, but she’s also emotional and I want her to see everything. When I lose my keys, I’ll cry in front of her. When I bumped my head on the counter and needed stitches, I let her know that mommy’s losing my sight in a way that I can’t prevent and sometimes I’m gonna bump into things and I wish it wasn’t like this. It makes mommy very sad that I’m losing my sight. And so we’re going to figure this out. I’m vulnerable and transparent with her. So hopefully she’s brave when she feels embarrassed or keeps up. I did not want to hit my head in front of her. I did not want to run into a wall. But I did. And maybe that’s a metaphor for life, that sometimes that’s going to happen, but it’s what you do afterwards.
Liz Tenety: Can you talk about adaptive technology and how it shapes your life?
Kiana Glanton: Technology is the great equalizer. That gap between being sighted and being blind that your grandfather experienced is much smaller today. We have smart glasses that I love and I live by. With those glasses, I can shop independently. I can say, “I need green apples. Where are the green apples?” Those smart glasses will tell me “to the right are green apples and to the left are yellow apples.” I can also use them when I’m at the bus: “Is that the M5 bus or is that the M4 bus?” It can tell me an address. Am I in front of the correct address as I get out of an Uber? It can also tell me the license plate and make and model of the car that’s in front of me to ensure I’m safe.
At work, I have full-time employment and I had to learn how to use Excel. I want you to think about an Excel spreadsheet and close your eyes and figure it out. And it needs to be accurate. It has to be down to the penny when we’re talking budgets. Well, we have audio technology that will read every cell, every formula, every sheet on Excel, and Word, and Outlook, and PowerPoint. My favorites are ZoomText and JAWS. I can listen to podcasts, I can create them, I can TikTok, I can YouTube. I can do all of these things with assistive technology.
Every day I’m in a group chat talking about something silly and something important. Today’s topic is a wedding that’s happening in my family. So I’m keeping up in one ear what’s going on with my family and in my other headset I’m typing a message to my family. I can do this simultaneously because of technology.
I have a little scanner that tells me what color a piece of fabric is. It’ll say maroon, or it’ll say brown, or it’ll say gray. I now don’t have to guess or FaceTime a family member to make sure these colors match. I can do that independently. I still FaceTime to make sure that makeup looks okay, but in terms of dressing myself, I can do that with dignity and with pride and independently.
My friends sent me a picture. I was able to put it in an AI app that described in detail what was happening. And then when I wanted more detail, I could say “the person on the left, what kind of facial expression do they have? What kind of jewelry?” That AI app was able to give me that description. I now have the same full experience that you might have when you look at a picture. So all these thousands of pictures I have of my daughter, I still get to experience them. Her face and her smile isn’t lost to me. I now can go back to her baby pictures and scan them and remember her first bath or her first lost tooth or her Halloween costumes. So technology is even impacting my experience as a mom.
Liz Tenety: What do you think your daughter is learning about life from watching you?
Kiana Glanton: She is learning that you get dealt a certain hand and you don’t have any control over that. But it’s not luck, it’s strategy. If you can figure out the rules of the game, you can win. I don’t like that visual impairment was a hand that I was given. It saddens me and it makes me feel like, why did I get visual impairment? Why did my eyes fail? I have this amazing kid. I want to see her face. I want to see her dimple. I want to see her teeth grow in. I want to see her figure out her style and her hair. And I still can do that. It just came down to meeting the right people, learning the strategies, learning to connect with community, understanding the ways in which I have advantages and the ways that I can leverage other things to win.
My daughter is learning to be communicative. She’s learning to describe things in great detail. She’s learning to be empathetic—that sometimes a person that looks like they’re doing something odd may have a unique challenge that she can offer her assistance or she can offer a little bit of kindness and understanding because I rely on that. She knows that mommy relies on that. There are people that are gonna open a door for me or help me to get towards the register. That kindness is really important to reflect back because it always comes full circle.
Liz Tenety: At Motherly, we believe that motherhood brings out our superpowers. What do you see as your superpower?
Kiana Glanton: My superpower is my strength. I happen to lift weights, so I’m pretty strong, but I also break barriers and break stereotypes because who would have thought a 39-year-old mom who’s never played a sport before could be a bronze medalist? Who thought I would be the best cook in the family and I’m blind? Who thought I could braid her hair in designs I can’t even see but that are so cool and stylish? Who thought I’d be the coolest mom to present at show and tell? Who thought a blinged-out cane would be my favorite accessory?
That strength to keep pushing, that’s my superpower. The first thing my daughter tells people is “my mom is super fly and she’s super strong and she’s my girl. She just happens to be blind.” So I think it’s my strength and I’m glad that those muscles, those invisible muscles and those real muscles, grow daily.
Liz Tenety: What has motherhood taught you about your own strength?
Kiana Glanton: Motherhood has taught me that blindness is not an excuse. That my love and responsibility are what guide my decision making and that make me want to work harder and smarter and strategically for her. Motherhood has been a gift. I don’t know what my life would look like if I wasn’t her mom. This particular child is a reflection of possibility for someone who had an autoimmune disease and an impending visual impairment and blindness. This child didn’t care and doesn’t care about it. That’s the last thing she thinks about. She thinks I’m cool. She thinks I can cook well. She thinks I’m fun and funny.
This motherhood experience has shown me that my blindness does not have to define me. My motherhood defines me. I get to choose. And I’m fortunate that she’s watching and that she’s holding my hand and she’s encouraged and inspired. For the blind moms who are worried about if they can do it, you can. You can raise that baby. You can cook that food. You can read to them with technology. You can use strategy. You can find community. I’m grateful that she allows me to shape her in a profound way.
source https://www.mother.ly/podcasts/kiana-glanton-the-motherly-podcast/
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