How One Woman’s Dream Became A Revolution
Eunice Kennedy Shriver’s idea for the Special Olympics was a breakthrough concept for people with intellectual disabilities nearly 50 years ago. Today, it’s still pushing the boundaries of the status quo.
President John F. Kennedy handing the pen he used to sign the Maternal Child Health and Mental Retardation Planning Bill to his sister and Special Olympics founder, Eunice Kennedy Shriver.
1968 was a year of revolutions. Revolts against the Vietnam War. Revolts against the destruction of the environment. Revolts against institutionalized racism in the United States and Northern Ireland. Revolts against the oppression by communist governments on the Eastern Bloc. But on Chicago’s Soldier Field on July 20, 1968, a lesser-known revolution was just getting started.
“In Ancient Rome, the gladiators went into the arena with these words on their lips: ‘Let me win, but if I cannot win, let me be brave the attempt,’” Eunice Kennedy Shriver said to the sparse crowd in the stands with the foresight to know that her words will echo louder as time went on.
“All of you young athletes are in the arena. Many of you will win, but even more important, I know you will be brave and bring credit to your parents and your countries,” she continued. “Let us begin the Olympics.”
The first International Special Olympics Games was nearly invisible to the media. But Shriver hardly cared. The Games’ mere existence and the opportunity for young people with intellectual disabilities to take to the arena with the dignity and empowerment of a gladiator is what really mattered.
This movement began a few years prior at Shriver’s Maryland farm, Timberlawn. Shriver, a Stanford graduate and member of the Kennedy political dynasty, used her privilege to correct injustices with the same determination as her 1968 protest contemporaries.
Shriver turned Timberlawn into Camp Shriver, a summer camp for children with and without intellectual disabilities. In an era when people with intellectual disabilities were hardly being tolerated in daily life, the sight of the campers flourishing in competition was revelatory.
It’s unclear whether or not Shriver felt the magnitude of her small camp at that time. What is clear, however, is that she saw the immense value of giving people with intellectual disabilities a platform to hone in on a skill, engage in competition, build friendships and, above all, take pride in oneself.
It took Shriver six years to amass the 1,000 athletes who competed at the first international Special Olympics Games. Only 100 fans stood in the seats of Soldier Field in 1968, a stadium meant to carry tens of thousands. This summer at the sold-out 2015 Opening Ceremony at the Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum, 62,338 fans came out to support the nearly 7,000 athletes from across the globe.
By the numbers, Special Olympics has undeniably come a long way. Thanks to the program Healthy Athletes, Special Olympics is the largest healthcare provider for people with intellectual disabilities in the world. These Los Angeles World Games are the world’s largest athletic event of the year. Tens of thousands of volunteers have come out to put on the Games, which has official partnerships with Deloitte, Coca-Cola, Toyota, OUE Skyspace and Bank of America. To put it frankly, Special Olympics has emerged from an underdog to a global giant in less than half a century.
The mission of Special Olympics is a constant, universal desire for unity. It speaks all languages, and it offends no culture. It reflects the most encompassing human experience: the personal journey to find a place in this world. To “integrate” is not enough. “Integrate” implies that outliers must assimilate to the norm. The Special Olympics asks us to include everyone with a pure heart and good intentions.
Shriver saw the danger of low expectations. She beckoned the participating athletes to see themselves not just as representatives of their countries or symbols of visibility, but as agents of change. Be it a nation wracked with civil strife, like Iraq, or one that brought a delegation the size of a city, like India, every Special Olympics World Games athlete walked into the L.A. Memorial Coliseum with the dignity and determination of the gladiators that Shriver once prophesied they would be.
You can hear a curious echo upon watching Eunice Kennedy Shriver’s speech at the inaugural Opening Ceremony and later seeing her children speak at the 2015 Opening Ceremony. On the surface, there are few similarities between the two ceremonies. Eunice spoke with a cool, driven voice that gave her small reception promise. Tim and Maria Shriver were emotive and colorful, backlit by ESPN cameras and dignitaries.
During her speech, Maria Shriver said the word “athletes” with the same unique inflection her mother used 47 years ago. She and her brother, Tim Shriver, gently acknowledged that the Special Olympics is their fifth, immortal sibling that will live far longer than they ever will. Yes, Special Olympics World Games is gilded with glamour and corporate sponsorships and celebrities. But it still shines with a golden heart, a pure message and a dream of a kinder and more inclusive world for all.
