My main job is to fill your prescription; consider me your eye pharmacist.
Opticians fit and dispense eyeglasses to patients. Some also dispense contacts. I can likely guess your prescription (aka your rx), read the rx from your glasses with a lensometer, adjust your glasses, and troubleshoot the reasons why you can’t see from your glasses. Now, let’s just make it very clear: opticians are not doctors.
Unless the optometrist (an O.D. whose sole purpose is giving eye exams) also happens to be an optician, then you can definitely assume we don’t have a doctorate. The more prestigious eye doctor is an ophthalmologist — a M.D. who can perform surgery and deal with eye disorders. They also make the most bank.
How I Got Started
After almost 3 years in a very customer-centric position asking, “do you want it sliced?” I applied for an assistant position at a high-end boutique and was under the impression there would be clothes involved. I was wrong.
The interview was a fun round of “can you handle this?” I was sure I mustered up my best version of confidence, but I have been told I actually gave a monotone, “I’ll get the job done.”
So the first thing I learned on the job: there is no licensure or certification to become an optician. In the United States, licensing varies state by state, and certification is an option through the ABO or NCLE. These are voluntary non-profit organizations, although there is a cost of $225 for the test. After you receive your certificate, renewal is every 3 years. You’re expected to maintain a number of credits and submit the renewal fee of $125.
Having just finished a semester of courses where I was exploring prospects of paralegal work, I didn’t see the appeal of more studying so soon. Instead, I learned in an apprenticeship manner — on the job.
What I Learned
I’ve met different opticians throughout the years, and have questioned their qualifications. Some were so seasoned and knowledgeable, even if you fell flat on your face, they could fix your eyeglasses back. Others couldn’t insert a screw or get your measurements right. Considering opticians work for retail stores or doctor’s offices, this makes a lot of sense (to me). Their primary objective is simply to fit patients into the right eyeglass frames. It sounds simple enough, but there’s more to it than looks.
When I first started, I tried my best to familiarize myself with all the tools: frame warmer, nose pliers, screw cutters, lens clock, ribbon, liner, etc… I would try my best to practice on graveyard frames, where there was some defect, and I could mangle them further, but feel less to no remorse for it.
The opticians on the sales floor and the lab technicians had different techniques for adjustments, and I was confused by this. The opticians who did the fitting and selling would adjust until the frames were balanced on the table, the arm hooks (e.g. temple tips) touching down on the surface, and ideally hooked on someone’s ears.
I won’t say whose method is better *cough-technician’s-cough* but when the technicians adjusted frames, they would turn the frame upside down testing to see if the frame front was balanced rather than the temples. This method accounts for the weight of the lenses, because not all eyes are equal, and one lens will likely be thinner or thicker and weigh more than the other. By balancing the frame front, making sure it was equal distance to one’s face, no excess induced-eyelash brushing, it was easier to then work out the kinks for unbalanced ears.
Today, I can easily take a look at someone’s face and go, “need an adjustment?” When dispensing a pair of glasses, even if the patient insists everything feels fine, I’ll ask them to tilt their head forward or do a little shake. Chances are the glasses will slide.
Small confession: when I first started as an assistant, I would often cross my fingers and hope I didn’t have to adjust anyone’s glasses.
The Best Way to Learn is by Fucking Up
Apologies for the language, but working with a New Yorker, a Hong Kong-er, and a South African, that is exactly what I was taught: to curse and to learn from making mistakes.
I learned how to cut prescription lenses on different machines, from the importance of blocking the lens correctly to making sure all the data is entered, and most importantly, switching the function from right lens to left. It was one of the more ridiculous conundrums, because after cutting a right lens, you had to manually select the left option, and sometimes, when you’re working three machines at a time, it’s easy to overlook. Some machines will automatically switch from right to left, but edging isn’t always so streamlined, if say the right lens is cut too large and it needs to be trimmed further, then the program needs to be unlocked to recut the lens.
Similarly, not all lenses are cut the same way. I once had a patient who brought blank lenses he’d purchased online and assumed we had a laser to edge them, while another thought that he could just use scissors to make his own. Usually, that’s when I explain that there are bevels and grooves around your lenses you don’t always see, and frames will sometimes hide. With the exception of rimless glasses that are held together by glue, screws, or bolts, where you may not notice the safety bevel (which is just a fancy way of saying the edges were smoothed out to prevent sharpness or a potentional lawsuit).
Learning more technical aspects allowed me to better present and explain situations to patients. However, I should clarify that not all opticians will know everything about how glasses are made, or even how lab equipment works. I happened to be in a situation where I learned everything and was allowed to explore what I would be best at.
When Opticians Make Promises They Don’t Understand
Imagine having engineers and customer service reps. The lab people are the engineers, they think they know everything, and they probably do when it comes to doing their job best, but they can’t communicate with customers. The opticians are the customer reps, they know what the customers want, and try to provide this, and won’t understand why they can’t.
One of the more common scenarios would be the reuse of old lenses in a new frame. It’s a practice I don’t exactly condone, if there are dire circumstances, but I generally advise against. Imagine this, your frames broke, but your lenses are still good and you don’t need a new prescription. An optician may promise to use the patient’s old lenses in a new frame, and if they’re single-vision lenses, then it’s likely more doable. It’s still a bad idea, because the occipital center (OC) where your pupils look through the lens may be compromised. Remember the part I mentioned about edging lenses with particular measurements? Most lenses are cut to frame measurements, pupillary distance (PD), which is the horizontal distance between pupils, and an OC. Probably not a fun fact: the OC is also referred to as the segment height in progressive lenses.
Also known as trifocals, progressive lenses have specific markings, offer three fields of vision, and are cut to specific measurements; so, it’s a terrible idea to suggest putting those lenses into another frame. Unless all the frame measurements are the same, chances are the patient won’t be able to see.
Why is the above scenario a common issue, even though opticians take measurements and should know better? There are a number of reasons I’ve come across, either money or time are the top two answers. Sometimes there were patients who just needed to have their glasses last another week before they traveled back to their own country and promised to have new lenses installed later. Believe me, I’ve come across a lot of really ridiculous-sounding scenarios, but empathy for another human being or a slow sales day would prompt many a promise.
Assumptions
Opticians come in all forms: this is not a gender or age-restrictive career.
Sometimes there was a need to prove my abilities either because I was younger (in my twenties) or female. I’m sure this is common in many fields, and it’s not always worth it to fight every battle.
I assisted an older patient in replacing his defective frames and had everything adjusted properly for him. Everything was perfectly adjusted, but he kept insisting something didn’t feel right, then he said “don’t you think we should ask him to double check?” He pointed to my coworker.
This was the first time that anyone had ever pointed to my coworker and decided that he was going to be better than me at something. I was the lab manager, technically his boss, and I had become very good at my job. No one had ever suggested that he check my work, it was usually the other way around and I was always fixing his problems. I took in the scene though, and realized the patient saw an older man, like himself, and there were assumptions running through his head.
I went to the back of the room, took my coworker aside, gave him the glasses and told him, “tell him you adjusted these and that everything looks great.” He did as I instructed and the patient left smiling. I knew that patient just needed some older male reinforcement and I wasn’t going waste more time.
Fortunately, most patients were open to me being an expert at my job. By the time I was Director of Operations, my specialty was handling more particular patients who appreciated someone schooling them about why they didn’t need the most expensive lenses or coatings and why cleaning glasses with dish soap is a bad idea, even when the Internet suggests otherwise.
Now that I’m writing this, I’m reflecting a lot about whether being female hinders or helps in this profession. It depends on the individual optician, in my experience, women tend to be more approachable; while men can come off more aggressive, but it isn’t always true. I’ve had plenty of male coworkers charming their way into patients hearts and getting love from entire families.
You’ll still get inappropriately hit on in this job, regardless of gender. While I’ve had propositions made to me, and lines like, “if I were 20 years younger…” where I can only awkwardly smile; I’ve also tried to bail out a male coworker as he was propositioned with daily coffees by a male suitor, despite him continuously stating he had a fiancee. These are rare occurrences, but can happen more when you’re in a customer-famous role.
Clearly, I’m not glamorizing being an optician, like I said from the beginning, they’re glorified pharmacists. There were definitely fun times on the job, such as when I saw a face and I knew immediately which frame was going to be perfect. Or, if you want to get emotional about it, you know how doctors deliver babies but likely won’t see them again after that? Well, as an optician, you’re likely going to see the same people, their family, and probably their friends if they like you enough.
If there was one pet peeve, it would be when opticians were referred to as “sales people” because it denigrated and simplified the profession to only one aspect of the work. A decent optician should know how to transpose (convert an rx from plus to minus or vice versa), tell you why certain eyeglass frames are not a great option based on your astigmatism, and ascertain whether it’s wise to split your prisms. If all of that sounded like a lot of jargon, it should, because there are a lot of things opticians need to learn besides collecting your money.
The biggest downside, however, is it’s not really a career with much growth potential. Unless you hope to establish your own optical shop, pay is stagnant or on the lower-end. It’s good enough to make a living, even in a city like San Francisco, but I also recall former coworkers lamenting over never having enough money. Some worked part-time, and being an optician was the fun side gig. People will always need eyewear, but traditional retail is changing, and the days of custom-fit glasses are as well.
Everything has been written based on my near 7 years of experience in the optical industry, so interpret that how you will. I’m sharing my own take of what it was like, and since I wore many hats during the time, I’m sure experiences will vary.