Each week, the Shreveport-Bossier Journal’s Tony Taglavore takes to lunch a local person – someone who is well-known, successful, and/or influential, and asks, “What’s Your Story?”
By TONY TAGLAVORE, Journal Services
Some 1,700 men and women walked across the stage at LSU Shreveport’s graduation ceremony last May.
Most were not middle-aged. Most were not blind.
“When I got home that night, I took off my make up and cried. My husband came in the room and said, ‘What is wrong now?’ I said, ‘These are tears of joy because I did it.’”
Earlier that day, LaShawn Benita Harley-Hill received her master’s degree in counseling. In the process, LaShawn proved there’s nothing you can’t accomplish.
“Just because you go through certain circumstances in life, it doesn’t mean you give up on what you want to do . . . . Just believe in yourself. Don’t ever give up. It may take a year, two years, or ten years. Don’t ever give up on what you want to do.”
The soon-to-be 55 year-old South Carolina native who has lived in Shreveport-Bossier since 2003, told me her story during lunch at a place she chose, Walk-On’s Sports Bistreaux in Bossier. Harley-Hill had the Double-Bacon Cheeseburger with Swiss cheese, and waffle fries. I enjoyed the Chicken Berry Pecan salad, with dressing on the side.
“Just imagine going back to school with a bunch of 20-year-olds – young girls and young guys – and you’re 50-something. It’s hard. I ain’t going to lie.”
For 14 years, LaShawn worked at what was then LSU Health. It was there that she noticed a change in her eyesight.
“I had a little bit of blurred vision. I went to the doctor. My (eye) pressure was too high, so I had to have emergency surgery. If your pressure is too high, it can cause a stroke, and you can die.”
LaShawn’s diabetes was angry.
“The right vision went first. Then pressure started going up in the left eye. I slowly started losing that vision.”
By mid-January of 2017, LaShawn was totally blind in her right eye. Today, in her left eye, “I can’t see anything. I have a little light in the corner of my eye – just a little.”
LaShawn’s world became dark – literally and figuratively.
“I was depressed. I cried every day for a month.”
The people in LaShawn’s support circle offered encouragement.
“My church family, my friends, my sisters, my husband – everybody said, ‘You’ve got to snap out of this. It’s not the end of the world.’ I was like, ‘I can’t see people! I can’t do anything!”
After a few years, someone from Louisiana Association for the Blind asked LaShawn a question.
“Have you thought about going back to school?”
“School?”, LaShawn responded. “At my age?”
But the more LaShawn thought about the idea, the more it made sense.
“Well, shoot. I might as well go on and do something with my life. I just came to the realization that if I can make a difference in somebody’s life, maybe I can be an inspiration and say, ‘Hey, you can do this.’”
Three nights a week, using city transportation, her husband, and sister, LaShawn attended classes. She learned where the elevator, classroom, and bathroom were located.
“My computer has software that talks to me. It reads my books for me. It reads articles . . . . In lectures, I would use my voice recorder. I would go home and type up the notes. That’s how I studied.”
From August 2022, until May 2025, LaShawn put in the work – work she couldn’t see. At home, hours after graduation’s pomp and circumstance, reality hit her.
“When I first started, I had doubts. I cried. There were some days I got frustrated. It was a hard journey. But once I got home and realized I did this, I said, ‘Ain’t nothing can stop me now.’ I felt good. It’s a feeling I can’t describe. I felt accomplished. I felt like nothing else can stop me. I felt good.”
By now, you should not be surprised LaShawn does just about anything anyone with good eyesight does, including travel. Since going blind, LaShawn has been to the Dominican Republic, Las Cabos, Montego Bay, and a Dallas Cowboys game. For me, the obvious question was, “Why travel, when you can’t see? What good does it do to be at the beach, if you can’t see the beach?”
“(My husband and I) were in Jamaica. One day, he’s sitting out on the balcony, and says, ‘Wife, come outside and sit with me.’ So, I got up and sat outside with him. He said, ‘Close your eyes.’ I said, ‘Okay.’ He said, ‘Picture the sunset. It’s like a dark burnt orange. It’s slowly going down.’ I said, ‘Oooh, that sounds so beautiful!’ Then I just started crying. He said, ‘What’s wrong?’ I said, ‘For you to take the time to tell me and describe how the sun is going down, I can picture it.’ I go for the memories. I go for the little things.”
Inspired by LaShawn’s lack of self-pity, I asked my final question. As always, what is it about her story that might help others?
“You have to believe in a higher being. God don’t put too much on us that we can’t bear. We may be going through some stuff, but things will get better before they get worse. I’m a firm believer in that.”
Yes, it’s true. You don’t have to see to believe.
Do you know someone with a story? Email SBJTonyT@gmail.com.
The Journal’s weekly “What’s Your Story?” series is sponsored by Morris & Dewett Injury Lawyers.