Exchanging her white cane for Chica the guide dog has given University of Maine student Hope Paulos a newfound sense of freedom.

“With Chica by my side I can fly,” said Paulos, a 22-year-old junior and the university’s only blind student.

Thanks to her guide dog, Paulos has been able to navigate the Orono campus more quickly .

“It definitely cuts down on traveling time,” she said recently.

The petite, dark-haired woman has become a familiar figure each Tuesday and Thursday as she and Chica make their way from Memorial Union to classroom buildings along UM’s grassy mall.

Always following close behind is Hope’s father, T.J. Paulos, also working toward his bachelor’s degree. He takes some classes with his daughter.

The two drive to Orono from their home in Seal Cove, often relaxing before class with a coffee or soda at the Memorial Union.

“I’m really happy he’s going to school with me,” said Hope Paulos, an education major who plans to teach high school Spanish. Last year, she earned an associate degree from the University of Maine at Augusta through the distance education center in Ellsworth.

Nationwide, young people who are blind or visually impaired are continuing on to postsecondary education in record numbers, according to Karen Wolffe of the American Foundation for the Blind.

A 2004 Stanford University study indicated that 64 percent of blind or visually impaired people are attending college or obtaining additional training, up from 57 percent in 1992, said Wolffe. The numbers are comparable to those for sighted students, she added.

While blind or visually impaired students always have been encouraged to continue their education, their numbers are increasing because of today’s easy access to technology and because of campus awareness that accommodations must be provided, Wolffe said.

During the last 15 years, UM has enrolled about five students like Paulos who are totally blind and have used guide dogs to get around, said Ann Smith, UM’s director of disability services. Among other things, Smith ensures that Paulos’ textbooks are available either through computer software programs or compact discs that can be installed in her home computer and then read aloud using a synthesizer.

Paulos types her class notes using a device about the size of a laptop computer. It translates the keyed letters onto a Braille display, then reads back her words using the synthesizer program. A printer translates the typed word onto a Braille embosser.

The devices make life easier but time is always of the essence, said Paulos, who is on the dean’s list. “Everything takes longer for me,” she said.

“If, for some reason the speech synthesizer doesn’t work, I can’t just say, ‘I’ll use the computer without it.’ I’ve got to restart the whole computer.”

When she arrived at UM last September, the idea of “walking on this big campus with a white cane” was a bit daunting, Paulos admitted. But everything changed when Chica came on the scene five months ago. Now, people are more apt to stop and talk. “Chica’s a conversation piece. She breaks the ice.”

It took some doing to get used to walking without her cane, which offered “lots of tactile landmarks,” Paulos said.

For example, an emergency telephone and a boulder on the ground would tell her when to turn left for Little Hall, while a hill would let her know she was approaching the Memorial Union.

But she doesn’t need any help discerning when the Memorial Union food court is nearby, thanks to the aroma of Starbucks coffee. “It smells sooooo good,” she said.

Paulos continues to use all her other senses to get around and doesn’t rely exclusively on Chica who’s inexperienced, among other things. “She’s still, after all, a dog.

“I still have to keep in the back of my mind where I am,” said Paulos, who uses hand signals and verbal commands to direct her dog.

Chica’s “so quick, really intelligent,” Paulos said, noting that the 18-month-old German shepherd learned the layout of the campus after only about two weeks’ training by a representative from a Connecticut-based organization that provides guide dogs.

In class, Chica snoozes peacefully under her owner’s desk. Sometimes Paulos takes off the dog’s harness, a sign to Chica that she’s off duty and to others that they are allowed to pat her. While in harness, Chica should not be touched because she could be distracted, Paulos said.

The decision to get a guide dog was a good one. “I’ll admit, Chica’s a lot of work. But she’s definitely worth it. I’m glad to have her in my life. She’s part of our family now,” said Paulos.

Blind since she was about 2 weeks old due to complications from a premature birth, Paulos graduated from Mount Desert Island Regional High School in 2001. Her biggest educational challenge always has been math because of its visual nature. Her father would help by arranging sticks into graphs and geometric forms.

Hope Paulos’ love for the Spanish language began when she was 8 years old and her father, who speaks the language fluently, taught her a couple of words. Soon she was teaching herself with the help of audiocassettes.

“By the time she was 10, she had flown by me in accent and vocabulary,” her father said with a grin.

Paulos’ father, as well as her mother, Robin, have been constant sources of encouragement. “The only thing you can’t do is see. You can do anything else,” T.J. Paulos would tell his daughter. “Keep your eye on the prize and you’ll get there.”

Owen Logue, dean of the College of Education and Human Development and Paulos’ academic adviser, has known her since she was in the fifth grade and said watching her success over the years has been exciting.

“It’s a wonderful testimony of her drive. Lots of people might have given up … but she seemed to embrace challenges and want even more,” he said.

Gabriel Belanger, 21, who is in Paulos’ Spanish class, said she has helped him “learn about human determination.”

Although Spanish professor Kathleen March has never had a blind student before, she’s gained much from the experience. The idea is not to wonder whether a person with disabilities can do something, but to find out how that person will achieve, according to March.

Paulos also provides the opportunity to help others better understand people with disabilities, the professor said.

For example, “Tengo un hambre que no veo,” which means, “I’m so hungry I can’t see,” is a popular Spanish phrase, but March worried that using it in class could be disrespectful.

In fact, Paulos isn’t fazed by such phrases. “Words like see and watch and look don’t bother me. Blind people use them all the time. It’s just a part of life,” she said.