Special Olympics joy unlikely to be seen in Iceland
BRAVERY IS MORE IMPORTANT IN LIFE THAN VICTORY. — RAYMOND DE SOUZA
On July 20, 1968, less than two months after the assassination of her brother Bobby in Los Angeles, Eunice Kennedy Shriver — whose character was far more noble than her famous brothers JFK, RFK and Teddy — held the first Special Olympics at Soldier Field in Chicago. Amidst all the triumphant and tawdry matters of the Kennedy clan, the Special Olympics was the great shining moment.
Few did more than Eunice Shriver to improve the lot of those with intellectual disabilities — the “mentally retarded” in the parlance of the day. With the Paralympics today and the Invictus Games for those wounded in war, it is no longer remarkable that there be athletic contests for those physically disabled. But 50 years ago the idea that competition could be a showcase those considered uncompetitive was a radical idea. Even today, the Special Olympics remains singular in highlighting the “ability” of those with an intellectual dis-“ability.”
Recently I was giving an academic paper in Minneapolis-St. Paul while the Minnesota Special Olympics was being held on campus. There was more tangible joy mingling amongst the Special Olympians than there was to be found amongst my academic colleagues, convivial as they were. None of them wanted to give me a spontaneous hug.
Eunice, like her brothers, was good at sports and enjoyed competition. She saw that sports could be a common enterprise, a source of unity and inclusion. With the experience of her sister Rosemary as motivation to make life better for those with intellectual disabilities, Eunice was courageous in bringing them out of the shadows.
She wrote a landmark article in 1962 — while JFK was president — in The Saturday Evening Post in which she put the matter starkly: “Rosemary was mentally retarded.”
In 1962, the frank admission that there was mental disability in America’s most glamorous family was a major milestone.
“Like diabetes, deafness, polio or any other misfortune, mental retardation can happen in any family,” she wrote. “It has happened in the families of the poor and the rich, of governors, senators, Nobel prizewinners, doctors, lawyers, writers, men of genius, presidents of corporations — and the President of the United States.”
The situation in 1962 is hard to imagine today.
“Even within the last several years, there have been known instances where families have committed retarded infants to institutions before they were a month old — and ran obituaries in the local papers to spread the belief that they were dead,” Mrs. Shriver wrote.
Today, matters are rather different. Most children diagnosed in utero with possible intellectual disabilities are aborted. There are no fake obituaries. There are no obituaries at all. But the children now really are dead.
Recently, Iceland declared that it had almost completely eliminated Down syndrome. Not the syndrome exactly, but those diagnosed with it. Pre-natal testing and eugenic abortion have made Iceland a place where the Special Olympics will not be needed.
In Canada too the majority of children so diagnosed are aborted. But not all of course. Earlier this month, it was noted that Will Brewer was the first person with Down syndrome to be the official Town Crier of the Olde Town of Halifax. The voices of most like him are never heard at all, not even their gurgles as babies.
Eunice Shriver cried out for those who did have voices in the 1960s but were never heard. Fifty years later, the Special Olympics Global Celebration — which has been hosted in major cities the world over — is back in Chicago. The Special Olympians were beacons of light that famous summer in Chicago, where 1968 is remembered more for the darkness of violent protest and police violence in return.
The ethos of the Special Olympics is so filled with joy that one forgets about the courage required of the athletes. But the motto proposed for Special Olympians reminds us of just that: “Let me win, but if I cannot win, let me brave in the attempt.”
In any competition, it is not possible for everyone to win. In fact, most lose. Bravery is more important in life than victory.
The bravery of the Special Olympians earns our praise. So too does the indomitable bravery of Eunice Kennedy Shriver and her husband, Sargent Shriver. Fifty years on, another sort of bravery is required. Those with intellectual disabilities depend for their existence on the bravery of those parents who allow them to live. That bravery too should be saluted.