About Me
Hi, I'm Kelvin Crosby!
I didn’t plan this life.
I was born with hearing loss, and over time my vision began to fade. Living with Usher Syndrome Type 2 has meant learning how to move through a world that keeps changing. Some days I can still make out light and shapes. Other days, it feels like I’m looking through wax paper, trying to piece together what’s in front of me.
That kind of loss doesn’t just change how you see — it changes how you live.
As my vision changed, other parts of life became heavier too. I walked through addiction and survived suicide attempts while trying to understand what God was doing in the middle of everything falling apart. There were seasons where I wrestled deeply with faith, asking questions I didn’t know how to answer and carrying pain I didn’t know how to set down.
Over time, I began to see that God wasn’t rushing to explain everything away. He was patient. He was present. And He was still at work, even when I couldn’t see it.
What Does Kelvin See?
Today, I see the world through a haze — like looking through wax paper. Colors are softer, and most details have faded into shapes and shadows. The picture isn’t clear, but I keep moving forward.
My white cane helps guide me through the world. At church, people often call it my staff. It’s what I walk with, stand with, and worship with. With my cane in hand, I worship Jesus with my whole heart. I move, I dance, and I praise Him, trusting that God is leading each step I take.
Even when my vision is limited, my faith keeps me going.
Finding My Way to the Wheel
Pottery entered my life during a season when I needed something steady.
Clay doesn’t move unless you stay with it. It responds to pressure, time, and attention. If you fight the wheel, the clay collapses. But if you stay with it — even when it wobbles — something begins to take shape.
That process mirrored my own life in ways I didn’t expect.
Working with clay gave me a place to process loss, grief, and hope without needing to rush toward answers. Over time, pottery became a way for me to share my story and to reflect on how God was shaping my life through circumstances I never would have chosen. That journey is what led me to become known as The DeafBlind Potter.
Seeing a Need I Couldn’t Ignore
Living with vision loss also changed how I moved through the world.
As a blind pedestrian, I became aware of how often drivers simply couldn’t see me — especially at night. That fear stayed with me. Instead of pushing it aside, I began to wonder if there was a way to make walking safer for people like me.
That question led to the invention of the See Me Cane, a lighted blind cane designed to help blind pedestrians be more visible. It wasn’t born out of business plans or ambition. It came from lived experience — from crossing streets, listening carefully, and knowing what it feels like to be unseen.
Life Beyond the Work
My life isn’t lived only on a stage or behind a pottery wheel. It’s lived in the everyday moments most people never see.
I’m married, and my wife walks beside me through all of it — the uncertainty, the faith, the questions, and the grace that shows up in unexpected ways. Together, we navigate life with disability, calling, and change, learning what it means to lean on each other when the path isn’t clear.
I’m also a foster dad. Foster parenting has stretched my heart in ways I never anticipated. It has taught me the importance of showing up, loving without guarantees, and trusting God with outcomes I can’t control. In those moments, faith becomes less about words and more about presence — choosing to stay, even when things are hard.
Why I Share My Story
I don’t share my story because I have everything figured out.
I share it because I’m still walking it.
Whether through pottery, speaking, inventing tools for the blind, or caring for my family, the same truth keeps returning — God is still shaping, even when the process feels slow or unclear.
If you take anything from my story, I hope it’s this: you’re not alone in the questions, and the shaping isn’t finished yet.
