Learning the art of seeing beyond limitation

This February, I journeyed through Fujian province with Wang Yongcheng, a deputy to the National People's Congress and the only visually impaired member among nearly 3,000 NPC deputies. My aim was to observe his work, but instead, I gained a profound lesson in what it truly means to "see" the world.

At 58, Wang, a native of Fujian, cannot see with his eyes. Yet throughout our travels, he demonstrated remarkable empathy and awareness. He knew the personal stories of every disabled resident we met — not just their names and situations, but their unspoken struggles and deeper needs.

In Nanjing, a county in Fujian's Zhangzhou city, Wang had a casual conversation with Wu Bojie, a blind massage therapist. During their chat, Wu mentioned his interest in shooting short videos, a popular business promotion method these days. Wang immediately inquired about the number of videos Wu had posted and their performance. Wu smiled helplessly, explaining that since he and his two colleagues are all blind, achieving the right focus on their phones is extremely challenging.

Upon hearing this frustration, Wang paused briefly and promised to find a solution, aiming to arrange for experts to provide video shooting training for people like Wu this year. "If we, the blind, can learn to use smartphones and computers proficiently, short videos won't be a problem either," Wang asserted confidently.

As we left Wu's massage shop, Wang turned to me and remarked,"Employment is one of the most critical issues facing people with disabilities. A stable job means a steady income. When they can support themselves, they don't succumb to self-pity due to their physical limitations. It helps them integrate into society, which is beneficial for social stability too."

Previously, Wang had spoken about children with low vision straining to read textbooks designed for fully sighted students and elderly blind people wanting to live in community nursing homes but being rejected because the staff "didn't know how to accommodate them".

These weren't abstract policy issues. They were real people facing real challenges, and Wang had been quietly working to address them. He suggested educational authorities publish textbooks in larger print so children with low vision could read without straining. He collaborated with civil affairs departments to help nursing homes adapt their facilities and train their staff, allowing blind seniors to live with dignity alongside their sighted neighbors.

I found myself pondering: How does a man without sight develop such a keen vision for what others need?

During the trip, Wang provided the answer with a phrase he often repeated: "It's not that people are inhumane, but that they are unaware; it's not that they don't understand, but that they lack knowledge; it's not that they don't care, but that the issues are overlooked."

These words struck me deeply. They reveal a truth about our society — and about my own work as a journalist. We navigate the world with functioning eyes, yet so much eludes us. We see what we expect to see and miss what falls outside our frame.

For Wang, the easy path was never an option. He cannot glance at a room and absorb its details. He cannot scan a person's face and read their emotions. So he has learned to do something more challenging. He listens — not just to words, but to pauses, tones, and what remains unsaid. He pays attention to subtle details: the weight of a document, the texture of a handshake, the silence that follows a question. What the world perceives as a weakness has become, for him, a kind of superpower. By not seeing, he perceives more.

This realization felt like a challenge to me. I pride myself on showing up, being present, and bearing witness. But presence is not the same as understanding. I have entered countless rooms, conducted numerous interviews, and written numerous stories. How often did I skim the surface and call it depth? How many stories did I miss because I was too busy looking to truly see?

Wang's approach to life demands something different from all of us. It asks us to question our assumptions and reevaluate what we think we already know. It also encourages us to recognize that those who navigate the world differently often perceive things we cannot.

The sculptor Auguste Rodin once said that the world does not lack beauty — it lacks the eyes to see it. I believe the same is true of society's problems. They are not hidden. They are right there, before us, every day. What we lack is the attention to notice them, the patience to understand them, and the will to act.