Today’s post comes from Michelle Nunn, CEO of Points of Light Institute and co-founder of HandsOn Network. It is the second of two posts about her trip to Greece and participation as an “All Star Fan” in the Special Olympics World Games. You can read the first post here.

The trip also gave me the opportunity to see skill-based volunteers in action through the Special Olympics Healthy Athletes Program, which has galvanized more than 90,000 medical professionals to volunteer their time to treat more than one million Special Olympics athletes since 1996. In the process, they have created new data about the health of people with intellectual disabilities and new processes and systems to inform the overall health care provision for these individuals.

As I walked around the Healthy Athletes venue with my family and observed the real-time care of thousands of athletes, I was dazzled not only be the stories of transformation for the patients, but also by the evident joy and fulfillment of the volunteers. They were having the times of their lives. Jumping up, laughing and dancing with the Iranian Special Olympics team to demonstrate the ill-effects of smoking, fitting a pair of glasses on the nose of an athlete from India who will see clearly for the first time, or pulling out an abscessing tooth causing chronic pain from an athlete from Morocco.

It was hard to know who was more delighted, the athletes or the volunteers. Imagine if everyone received the opportunity to be treated with dignity, respect and compassion, and had the opportunity to be their best, most healthy selves. And imagine if we all had all the opportunity to give our unique gifts to others in such a tangible, meaningful way.

One of the great joys of being with children is the gift of seeing the world through their eyes. In bringing my children to the Special Olympics World Games in Athens, I hoped they would discover solidarity and respect for the athletes, learn lessons of perseverance and bravery, and experience a global movement. I thought that they would experience all of this from the sidelines, but I did not suspect how they would be brought “into” the Olympic movement. (See the above picture of my son, Vinson, experiencing the healthy athletes hearing test.)

They did watch from the bleachers, marveling at the finesse of the handball players, the good sportsmanship of the volleyball players and the endurance of the runners. But they also really rubbed elbows with the athletes. My son, Vinson, sat glued in attention as he rode the bus next to an Olympic gold medalist gymnast from England who talked about how Special Olympics had changed his life and the lives of so many others. When recounting the athletes he met, Vinson recited the names of Apollo Uno, Olympic speed skater, Michelle Kwan, figure skating gold medalist, and Greg Silvester, Special Olympics gold medal gymnast. Vinson saw them all purely as heroes, equal in achievement, strength and courage.

This proximity to the Special Olympics athletes and events gives fans a real sense of inclusion – of literally being a part of something – not just as witness, but as participant. And you never know what event or what athlete will pull you in, in some unexpected way.

For our family, it was powerlifting. We watched with admiration, if not full technical understanding, as athletes from around the world victoriously lifted and wrenched up heavy weights time and again. We saw them triumph, not so much against one another, as against their own personal best, living out the true ancient Olympic creed to strive to be “better, stronger, faster.” They celebrated their individual victories with varying demonstrations of joy, exuberance and quiet gratification.

As a special treat, our family was invited to give out medals at the powerlifting medaling ceremony. My husband and son stood on the podium giving each of the athletes a medal for their accomplishments. Eight-year-old Vinson stood, shyly, to the side, but in the final presentation was coaxed to walk with his father up to the athletes and assist in placing the medal around the athlete’s neck. The bronze medalist proudly shook hands and held up his medal. The silver medalist from Kyrgyzstan exuberantly brought all of the medalists together in a hug of shared celebration. As Vinson stepped toward him, the medalist reached down, pulled Vinson to him, lifted him up and powerlifted all 65 pounds of Vinson in the air.

It was a moment of pure spontaneity and joy.

The look on Vinson’s face of surprise and giddiness, the athlete’s broad grin and the crowd’s roar of approval created one of a thousand Special Olympic moments. Uniquely, these athletes pull fans into a shared celebration of triumph. They create a sense of inclusion and they invert our sense of the strong and the weak reminding us all of our shared solidarity.

The Special Olympics, its athletes, fans and volunteers, demonstrate how strong we all can be when we come together in the spirit of hope, inclusion and reaching to be our best selves.

 

* Powerlifting photo courtsey of Diego Azubel