|
|
||
|
|
Winning Spirit Special Olympics has made a huge difference to the lives of hundreds of thousands of athletes with mental disabilities. It has also allowed the world to see what good sportsmanship is all about by Shona McKay |
|
|
IT WAS A BLISTERING HOT DAY in the summer of 1999. The heavy rain that had threatened to spoil the day had stopped. In its place, an oppressive heat had descended over Carter-Finley Stadium at North Carolina State University in Raleigh. The 45,000 spectators who had come to see the opening ceremony of the 1999 Special Olympics World Summer Games being held here were making good use of the bright red, yellow and purple souvenir fans. As twilight approached, 7,000 athletes from more than 150 countries entered the stadium, each nation's standard inspiring cheers and applause. A special welcome was given to the small delegations from Malta and Lesotho, two nations participating in the games for the first time. The members of Team Canada (55 athletes, 13 coaches and nine mission staff, dressed for the occasion in red, white and black track attire) also entered to a special welcome in recognition of Canada's role as one of the two founders of the Special Olympics movement. Almost two years later, in the cooler temperatures of an Alaskan March, Team Canada this time numbering 97 and attired in toques, black fleece pants and fashionable red and black bomber jackets received a particularly warm welcome as it entered the George M. Sullivan Arena in Anchorage at the start of the 2001 Special Olympics World Winter Games. Here, upwards of 2,000 athletes from more than 80 countries would compete in events ranging from figure skating to Alpine skiing. (Included among them were a troupe of snowshoers from Egypt who routinely trained on desert sand.) These two recent Special Olympics games, with their thousands of cheering fans and athletes from a wide range of countries, are a far cry from the first games, which took place in July 1968 at Chicago's Soldier Field. Then, there were only 1,000 athletes representing just two nations, Canada and the United States. But those games were the realization of a dream that would make life immeasurably better for hundreds of thousands of people with mental disabilities around the globe. Among the participants in the first games were the members of a floor hockey team from Toronto. The team, coached by George Armstrong, then captain of the Toronto Maple Leafs, played against a Chicago team coached by the Chicago Blackhawks great Stan Mikita. The contest ended in a draw. Frank Hayden recalls the occasion as if it were yesterday. "Everyone involved had a fabulous time," he says. And no one more than Hayden himself, who is now a Canadian citizenship judge but continues to act as a consultant to the Canadian Special Olympics organization as well as its provincial chapters. Hayden had been dreaming of a program like Special Olympics since the early 1960s. That was when, as a research associate at the University of Toronto, he studied the fitness of young people with mental disabilities. "Our research showed that individuals with mental disabilities were half as fit as the general population," says Hayden. "However, the lack of fitness had little to do with innate characteristics or physical problems, but rather, it had a lot to do with the fact that people with mental disabilities were often left to languish and therefore tended to lead sedentary life styles." To change the unacceptable status quo, Hayden began to advocate for a national program that would enable people of all ages with mental disabilities to participate in organized sport. "The goal was to do more than simply help people get in shape," he says. "Sport provides a venue for social interaction. Physical activity and competition also help people to become more confident and have higher self-esteem. Sport gives people with mental disabilities a much better opportunity to become integrated members of the greater community." Eventually, Hayden's vision was realized, albeit by way of the United States. In 1965, Sargent Shriver and Eunice Kennedy Shriver invited Hayden to work for the Joseph P. Kennedy, Jr., Foundation, which is dedicated to helping people with mental disabilities and their families. Hayden accepted the offer. During the seven years that he worked as one of two directors at the Kennedy Foundation, he was involved in projects ranging from the development of special playground equipment to the establishment of U.S. federal government legislation to assist people with disabilities. One of those projects was to evolve into Special Olympics. "One day I received a call from a group of people in Chicago," recalls Hayden. "These folks were interested in holding a track meet for people with special needs and wanted to know if the Kennedy Foundation could help them out. I encouraged the Kennedy family to jump at the offer and to get involved. I believed in the importance of a national sports program and saw the event in Chicago as the opportunity I had been looking for." In Canada, Hayden was to find an ally in Harry "Red" Foster. A well-known Toronto advertising executive, broadcaster and philanthropist, Foster, who had a brother with mental disabilities, would become the driving force of the Special Olympics movement in this country. It was Foster who, on hearing about the Chicago event, arranged for a Canadian team to attend, and it was he who organized the country's first Special Olympics games. Held in Toronto in 1969, the event attracted 1,400 athletes from 49 cities and towns across Canada. In 1972, with Special Olympics firmly established, Hayden left the Kennedy Foundation to return to Canada, where he took up a position as a professor in the physical education department at the University of Western Ontario in London. In 1975, his career took him to Hamilton, Ont., where he became director of McMaster University's school of physical education and athletics. An internationally recognized pioneer in fitness research, Hayden, however, remained dedicated to Special Olympics and was instrumental in exporting the concept to the rest of the world. Taking a leave of absence from McMaster from 1981 to 1984, he established the Special Olympics Office of International Development, a job that took him to Europe, South and Central America, Asia, Africa and the Middle East. Then, in 1988, he retired from his academic career to establish the Office of European Affairs for Special Olympics International in Paris. In large part, it was thanks to Hayden's efforts that the Special Olympics movement grew to include more than 150 countries. In 1999, he was appointed an officer of the Order of Canada for his work. There's no doubt that Special Olympics has been a powerful force for change for people with mental disabilities and their families. To illustrate just how significant the transformation has been, Hayden tells the story of a young mother who recently brought her two-year-old son, who has Down Syndrome, to a Special Olympics skating competition in Toronto. "On the front of the child's stroller hung a sign that said Future Special Olympian," says Hayden. "Thirty years ago, it would have been inconceivable that a parent would walk into a public place and not only announce that her child had a mental disability but that she was looking forward to the future, not with embarrassment, guilt or fear, but with great expectations. I was deeply moved." In Canada, Special Olympics has grown from the single original hockey team into an organization that now operates in all 10 provinces and two territories. Through scores of local chapters and with the assistance of hundreds of volunteer coaches and administrators, Special Olympics enables 22,000 Canadians to participate year-round in sports that include skiing, skating, floor hockey, soccer, bowling, softball, track and field and swimming. "The heart of Special Olympics is what takes place at the local club level," says Jim Jordan, president of Canadian Special Olympics, based in Toronto. "It's here that the most good for the most people occurs." As well as providing Special Olympians with ongoing training opportunities, local clubs make it possible for thousands of athletes to participate in annual regional and provincial competitions. Meanwhile, coaches from local clubs are responsible for choosing a select number of individuals of varying abilities to compete in regional games, and from there, those who qualify have the opportunity to compete in national and world games. Kathy Fulford is a big fan of Special Olympics at the grass roots level. Fulford is one of five coaches of the Scarborough Panthers, an east-end Toronto Special Olympics track and field club that meets every Thursday evening from September to May. Some 30 athletes, ranging in age from 16 to 47, are members of the Panthers. One of them is Fulford's 33-year-old daughter Lori. Taking a moment out from encouraging the players to run a little faster, jump a little higher and put the shot a little farther, Fulford explains that Special Olympics has been a very powerful and positive force in the lives of many individuals. "Special Olympics is focused on achievement much more than on winning," she says. To illustrate her point, she relates the story of two longtime members of the Panthers. "When they first began running with the club, two of our men had significant trouble keeping in the proper lane," says Fulford. "But now, they have learned to stay in position. And they are very proud of their accomplishments." As though to confirm this, one of the men, as he runs by Fulford, gives his coach a broad smile and a thumbs up. |
||
![]() |
||
|
|
Fulford adds that Special Olympics has been particularly beneficial for her own daughter, who participates year round in the organization through soccer, track and bowling clubs. "Lori has been involved with Special Olympics since she was 15," says Fulford. "It has been wonderful for her. It has provided her with the chance to make, and get together with, friends and to be active. Special Olympics has also given Lori a sense of accomplishment. People with mental disabilities are just like everyone else. They love to be challenged and to feel proud of their efforts." In the Yukon, Lynne Smith, a friend of Edward Kaye, a 26-year-old Special Olympian, is also aware of the power of Special Olympics to make individual lives richer. According to Smith, Kaye, who has cerebral palsy as well as a mental disability, joined Special Olympics at age 13 after a childhood spent in and out of hospital. "When Edward was a teenager, he was underweight and quite tiny," explains Smith. "Then he began to run and swim and to play basketball and floor hockey with Special Olympics. He became stronger and gained the skills and confidence to try other things. For instance, he played intramural basketball while in high school. He also, on his own initiative, approached the Yukon's organizing committee for the North American Indigenous Games to ask that a team of Special Olympians be included among the territory's representatives [a number of delegations were bringing Special Olympian teams to the games, which were to be held in Victoria]. Officials were so impressed with Edward that they not only granted his request but asked him to be the flag bearer for the Yukon during opening ceremonies." Today, Kaye, who says soccer and running are his "favourite sports," divides his time between Whitehorse, where he works part time in maintenance at a local hotel, and Old Crow, where he eagerly joins his parents and brothers and sisters each summer to hunt, fish and pick cranberries. Erika Van Steelant, a Winnipeg resident, can also attest to Special Olympics' ability to transform lives. Last March, she travelled to Anchorage to cheer on her 28-year-old daughter, Leaha-Marie, who was representing Canada in snowshoeing. "Leaha-Marie won a medal in the 400-metre, 800-metre, 1,600-metre events and four-by-100-metre relay," says Erika. "She was particularly pleased that, on the last day of competition, she and her three teammates won a gold medal." Back home in Winnipeg some weeks later, Erika says that Leaha-Marie has not yet put her medals from the games on the wall beside the other Special Olympics awards she has won over the years. "She's still too busy showing them off to friends and neighbours," she laughs. When she is asked to reflect on what Special Olympics has meant to her daughter, who has been involved with the organization since she was 15 years old, Erika's voice briefly takes on a note of sadness as she describes a young girl who was once overweight, reclusive, directionless. "You cannot appreciate the change unless you witnessed it," says Erika. "Before she joined Special Olympics, Leaha-Marie could not put a sentence together. She was incredibly shy and very unwilling to try new things. But the socialization and exercise and the self-esteem that comes with trying to do, and doing, your best have made her a different person. This is a young woman who now gets up and runs five kilometres before breakfast and who looks forward to new experiences. She's fit. She has friends. She has goals and ambitions. I can't help but think we have been blessed with a miracle." |
|
| Half a country away lives Suzie Smith, another Special Olympics enthusiast. In 1999, Smith, then a 20-year-old resident of Kinkora, P.E.I., had the opportunity to travel to Raleigh as a member of Team Canada. An accomplished swimmer, Smith won gold and silver medals in the 200-metre relay and the 50-metre backstroke respectively at the 1999 World Summer Games and was named Canada's female Special Olympics athlete of the year for 1999-2000. "The experience was of enormous value to Suzie," says her mother, Paula. "The chance to be away from her home and family has given Suzie a new sense of maturity and willingness to accept responsibility." Paula notes that the development was timely. Last year, Suzie graduated from Three Oaks Senior High School in nearby Summerside and is currently endeavouring to make the transition from school to work. Paula says that the Special Olympics has also helped her daughter to feel like a valued member of the community. "When Suzie returned home with her medals, 40 people from our village travelled to Charlottetown to welcome her when she got off the plane. Suzie was thrilled." On the campus of North Carolina State University, the atmosphere was electric on the evening of the day following the opening ceremony as 20 athletes completed the final laps of a 5,000-metre race. As the last runner, a woman from New York State, struggled to finish the race, hundreds of spectators cheered her on. "Mary, Mary," they cried. Finally, accompanied by a roar of applause, the spent athlete crossed the finish line, collapsing into the arms of waiting medical attendants. In the centre of the track, 36-year-old David Lynch of Olds, Alta., was all but oblivious to the drama on the sidelines. His attention was focused solely on the task at hand. Lynch, who lives in a group home and works in a bottle recycling plant, was one of 40 athletes competing in preliminary shot put trials. Finally, under a bright moon and stadium floodlights, it was Lynch's turn. His throw was short, a result that no doubt had much to do with the late hour and high temperature. "He'll be disappointed," said Patricia Rahm, his sister, who had journeyed to Raleigh with her husband, Mike, and parents, Donald and Phyllis, to support David. "But he'll get over it. David is the kind of person who is too busy thinking about other people to dwell on his own troubles." Over the course of the week-long games, Lynch placed fifth in the 100-metre sprint and sixth in the four-by-100-metre relay. Best of all, he won a bronze medal in shot put. Excitement emanated from a group of athletes from Hyderabad, India, as they made their way to the athletes' village on the campus of North Carolina State. "None of them has been outside of India before," explained P.M. Vijayalakshmi, their coach and chaperone. After a noisy consultation with her charges, whose journey to the United States involved a train to Bombay and flights to Milan, New York and then Raleigh, Vijayalakshmi said that the consensus of opinion was that the Special Olympics had been "excellent." For Dino Pedicelli, a resident of Châteauguay, Que., Special Olympics has been a family affair since 1979. That was when Dino's mother, Susan, became one of the first regional coordinators for Special Olympics in Quebec, and Dino, then 14, served as a track and field coach at a Montreal area Special Olympics club. "Over the years, I have coached everything from track and floor hockey to bowling and cross-country skiing," says Dino, whose sister Sandra has a mental disability. "I'm involved for the simple reason that I enjoy it so much. I have never encountered another group of people who complain so little and try so hard." A veteran of three previous national games in Canada, Dino served as the sport manager for Team Canada's softball team at the World Summer Games in 1999. One member of Canada's gold-medal-winning soft-ball team was Todd DeVries, a 32-year-old native of Kelowna, B.C., who plays the outfield. His mother and father, Sandra and John, travelled from their home in the Turks and Caicos Islands to be at the games in Raleigh. Supporting Todd has been a lifelong passion for the DeVries family. According to John, when Todd was young, doctors and teachers counselled him and his wife not to expect much from their son, who was born with a mental disability. It was advice the DeVries were not prepared to take. They enrolled Todd in a special speech school and taught him that, as well as disadvantages, he had talents that he could share with others. |
||
![]() |
||
| They also encouraged Todd to participate in Special Olympics softball and hockey teams. "Special Olympics has helped Todd in many ways," said John while in Raleigh. "It has taught him the value of discipline, responsibility and teamwork. It's in part because of Special Olympics that Todd has achieved so much. The boy who we were told would never amount to very much is now a man who is married and capable of holding a full-time job, and who has spent a semester at community college studying computers. Our whole family looks to Todd for inspiration." As the game drew to a happy conclusion for the Canadian side and team members rushed to congratulate one another, John added that there was one more important benefit that Todd and thousands of other people with mental disabilities receive from their involvement with the organization. "Special Olympics is a movement that honours people who don't have the same opportunities as others," he said. "So often, society unwittingly pushes people with mental disabilities down. But in Special Olympics, they are recognized not for what they don't have, but for the gifts they do have. And that's pretty wonderful." |
||
|
Photography: John Sylvester, Louie Palu, Marina Dodis
|
||
|
|
||