If you have ever found yourself standing near someone who is blind or low vision and thought, I want to help, but I do not want to do it wrong, congratulations. You are already doing better than most.

Guiding a blind or partially sighted person is not complicated, but it is personal. Done well, it feels smooth, respectful, and almost invisible. Done poorly, it can feel startling, unsafe, or like you just grabbed a stranger and dragged them into chaos. No pressure.

This guide exists to close that gap. These are not theoretical tips. They are lived experience, sidewalk-tested, airport-approved, and learned the hard way more times than I care to count.

Think of this as a short course in being a solid human in motion.

1. Introduce Yourself First. Always.

Before hands, before movement, before help, lead with your voice.

A simple “Hi, I’m Lisa” goes a long way. When you cannot rely on eye contact, facial expression, or body language, your voice becomes your handshake. It tells us who you are, where you are, and that you see us as a person, not a problem to solve.

That moment of introduction builds trust instantly. Without it, everything else feels rushed and uncertain.

If you take nothing else from this article, take this. Say hello first.

2. Ask If Help Is Wanted (and Mean It)

Here is a secret that surprises people. Sometimes we do not want help. That is not rude. That is independence.

Always ask before assisting. “Would you like some help?” is perfect. If the answer is no, accept it with grace. No today does not mean no forever. It just means no right now.

If the answer is yes, follow up with the most important question you can ask.

“How can I best assist you?”

That one sentence turns you from a well-meaning stranger into a collaborator. We know our own needs, comfort levels, and techniques. Let us lead.

3. Let Us Take Your Arm (and Tell You How)

If we accept help, positioning matters.

Most of us will lightly hold your arm just above the elbow. There are good reasons for this:

• It puts you half a step ahead so we can feel your body movement.
• It allows us to disengage easily if something feels unsafe.
• It gives us early warning of steps, turns, or changes in pace.

If you forget to mention a step up or down, we can often feel it through your movement. That is not magic. That is physics and practice.

Some people prefer different methods, which is exactly why asking matters. There is no universal technique. There is only the one that works best for the person you are guiding.

4. Please Do Not Grab, Push, or Pull

This one is important.

Being grabbed unexpectedly when you cannot see who is touching you is frightening. Even when intentions are good, sudden pulling or pushing removes our ability to orient ourselves and safely use our cane or guide dog.

It also increases the risk of injury.

If there is an immediate danger, use your voice clearly and specifically.

“Excuse me. Person with the white cane, please stop. There is an electric bike approaching quickly from your right.”

That works.

Yelling “Look out” or “Watch out” does not. We are not sure what we are supposed to look at, where it is, or how fast it is moving.

Words matter. Use them well.

5. Narrow Spaces, Single File, No Drama

When approaching a narrow space, simply move your guiding arm behind your back. That signal tells us to fall into single file naturally.

Because you are already one step ahead, the transition is smooth and intuitive. No need to stop, reposition, or announce it like a Broadway production, though a quick verbal cue is always appreciated.

“Going single file for a moment” is plenty.

6. Give Advance Notice for Stairs (and Details Help)

Stairs deserve respect.

Let us know they are coming before we reach them. Tell us whether they go up or down, how far away they are, and where the handrail is.

“There are stairs going down in about ten feet. Handrail is on the left.”

That single sentence gives us time to prepare, adjust grip, and switch techniques if needed.

For some of us, stairs are no big deal. For others, balance, depth perception, or unfamiliar environments can make them stressful. Rushing helps no one.

7. Let Us Find the Edge and the Rail

Once we reach the stairs, pause.

Give us time to locate the handrail and feel the edge of the first step with our foot or cane. Everyone moves differently. There is no prize for fastest stair descent.

A calm pause communicates safety and respect. It tells us you are present, not impatient.

8. Curbs Matter More Than You Think

When crossing a street or navigating curbs, tell us when you step on and off.

Often we can feel the shift in your movement, but confirmation helps.

“Stepping off the curb now” or “Up onto the curb” removes guesswork and keeps our rhythm intact.

Small cues make a big difference.

9. Warn Us About What Our Canes Cannot Find

White canes are excellent at detecting obstacles below the waist. They are useless for low-hanging branches, signs, awnings, or surprise architecture.

If something is overhead, tell us.

“Low branch ahead” or “We’re passing under a sign, you’ll want to duck.”

If you guide us around an obstacle by changing direction, explain why. Otherwise it feels like the sidewalk suddenly betrayed us.

10. Say Goodbye. And Say Hello Next Time.

When you leave, say goodbye. When you see us again, say hello and identify yourself.

Voices alone can be hard to place, especially in busy or noisy spaces. “Hi Ted, it’s Lisa” removes uncertainty instantly.

Without that clarity, we may not be sure if you are speaking to us or someone nearby. And yes, we would like to say hello back.

A Final Thought

Guiding someone who is blind or partially sighted is not about heroics. It is about communication, consent, and awareness.

When done well, it feels natural. When done poorly, it feels disorienting. The difference is rarely intention. It is usually technique.

Or as Gina Martin put it so perfectly:

“Having a disability does not change who we are, it changes our interactions with the world.”

If you keep that in mind, you are already most of the way there.

See you at the gate.

-Ted and Fauna