I worked with so many young people, too, who were spellbinding: Charles Salters, Stephanie Lockett, Kevin Huckaby, Jeffrey Jones, Rori Myers, Tashena Middleton, Mark Wylie, Nancy Cato, Lorrine Wilson, Tanya Baskin, Darrell Mickey, Lamont Young, Lamont Hamilton, Tom Wilkins, Deidre Bailey, Medria Blue, Cavell Godbolt, James “Tiny” Wilkins, Danielle Kimber, Marlene Cannady, Doug Bethea, Wade Simmons, Marquise Baskin—these are just a few of the thousands of children and teenagers who encouraged me to see the world honestly with all its flaws and to learn how to listen with authenticity and respect and love. I hope this book reflects even a tiny bit of their generosity and truth.
Jamie Price; Rev. Joe Komonchak; Rev. Stephen Happel; Bernard Lonergan, S.J.; Rev. Richard Rohr; Rev. Cynthia Bourgeault; and Rev. Martin Laird are among those who by teaching, writing, and praying tried hardest to teach me how to think and live from a divine center. If this book has even a few moments in which that center appears on the page, it is because these men and women (often without knowing it) didn’t give up on me and instead led me to the great mystics and to the mystic within me.
I also asked a lot from my spiritual directors of various types and sorts, and without complaint, they held my questions, my rudderlessness, and my impatience with grace. Over the years, Rev. Richard Russell; Rev. Martin Curtin; Rev. Jose Salazar; Rev. Joe Elko; Rev. Richard Fragomeni; Bertha Corley; Maud Leal; Ella Scantlebury; Sandy Nelson; Rev. Maurice Shepard; Patricia Mason; Vernon Jones; Fred and Anna Smith; Dan Santos; Mark Horak, S.J.; Greg Schenden, S.J.; Leo Murray, S.J.; Rev. John Enzler; Rev. Percival D’Silva; and the good people of Blessed Sacrament and Holy Trinity in Washington, DC, and of St. Martin de Porres Parish in New Haven were my communities in faith. They taught me more about the deep cries and transcendent smiles of the divine than I ever dreamed possible.
The ideas of child development were opened to me by some of the most distinguished scholars in the world who somehow took the time to teach me to understand the dynamic and often misunderstood process of growth and learning. Together with Dr. James Comer and Dr. Donald Cohen, Dr. Al Solnit, Barbara Nordhaus, Etta Burke, Jean Adnopoz, Dr. Elisabeth Dykens, and Dr. Mary Schwab Stone all welcomed me to the Yale Child Study Center and sent me off determined to represent the needs and dreams of children. On the other side of the Yale campus, Dr. Roger Weissberg, my friend and collaborator of almost three decades, and Dr. Ed Zigler were and remain incomparable scholars of psychology and action. At the Yale Divinity School, Dwayne Huebner first explained to me that education was about the “lure of the transcendent.” I’ve never forgotten their generosity in trying to help me see children from the inside out.
The team that created the field of social and emotional learning and then the Collaborative for Academic, Social, and Emotional Learning (CASEL)—believers in school being a place that cracks open the heart—became my friends. At the beginning there were my colleagues in the New Haven Public Schools whom I’ve already thanked; later I found my way to Linda Lantieri, Mark Greenberg, Dave Sluyter, Eileen Growald, and Dan Goleman. The group quickly grew to include amazing educators, scholars, and change agents such as Mo Elias, David Hawkins, Steve Arnold, Norris Haynes, Janet Patti, Joe Zins, Eric Schaps, Ann Nerad, Cynthia Coleman, Shelley Berman, Linda Darling Hammond, Larry Aber, Carl Cohn, Joan Lombardi, and Jennifer and Peter Buffett. Again, Roger Weissberg was at the center—a collaborator, scholar, and leader without peer. If social and emotional learning sweeps the country as I think it will, I hope that someday the story of the people who created the Social Development department at New Haven Public Schools and of those who created CASEL will become a celebrated tale of innovation and teamwork and love.
At Special Olympics, I have so many people to thank: Lowell Weicker, who bet on me when I didn’t deserve it; and Peter Wheeler, Kim Elliott, Drake Turrentine, Adam Bozzuto, Bob Fiondella, and Susan Saint James, all of whom played significant roles during my time in Connecticut and in the 1995 World Games and for many years before and after. I can’t thank Senator Chris Dodd enough for being our champion in Washington when we really needed him, nor President and Mrs. Clinton for making history by coming to the 1995 opening ceremonies. I’ll never forget Ramesh Mali, who lost his life during those games. Flo Consiglio of Sally’s Apizza hosted my family then and so many times before and since. Yes, Sally’s has the best pizza in the world. The Knights of Columbus led the creation of the host towns program that Peter Wheeler invented. Tens of thousands of people in New Haven and across the state of Connecticut who volunteered for days and weeks and months only reminded me of why I love Connecticut so much.
Over the past fifteen years, I have been guided, toasted, led, challenged, chased, raced, defeated, hugged, and loved by the most devoted workforce in the world at Special Olympics. The amazing people who built and continue to build Special Olympics include Drake Turrentine, Ayman Wahab, Dennis Brueggeman, Mary Gu, Mary Davis, Bob Gobrecht, John Dow, Steve Corbin, Kim Widdess, Dave Lenox, Angela Ciccolo, Tom Songster, Bob Montague, Donna Maxwell, Andrea Cahn, Helen MacNabb, Lee Todd, Mohammad Nasser, Charles Nyambe, Jon Paul St. Germain, Janet Froetscher, Jeannie Main, Kirsten Seckler, Kate McKenna, Will Schermerhorn, Steve Neill, Garrie Barnes, Terrel Limerick, David Evangelista, Bobby Jones, Charmaine Dittmar, David Gang, Cristian Ispas, Kathy Wilson, Brady Lum, Renee Dease, Ben Collins, and Darcie Mersereau. Gary Siperstein helped create our research capability, making Special Olympics not just a center of action but also a global leader in ideas and accountability. Sue Swensen, George Jesien, Steve Eidelman, and Dr. Robert Cooke have been powerful innovators and advocates from the Kennedy Foundation perch. Our health leaders, Dr. Steve Perlman and Dr. Paul Berman, have changed the world. Thank you all.
In the many states and countries of the world, leaders emerged who embraced the vision and took it higher than we often thought it could go. I think of Shi Derong, Mickey Boutilier, Marc Edenzon, Keith Fishburne, Matt Aaron, Peter Mazunda, Yan Mingfu, Magda Moussa, Air Marshall Denzil Keelor, Hermann Kroll, Joanna Despotopolou, Randy Mascorella, Beau Doherty, and all of you whose profession is or was Special Olympics: there is no group of people more dedicated or more passionate or more effective at changing the world than you are. I am so proud to have you as my inspiration for so much of what is in this book and so much more that I wish I could have included. You each have your own book to write, and I hope you will!
Our local Montgomery County Unified Team has been a classroom of the heart for my wife, Linda, and me, as well as our five children. To Maureen Yap, who got us going, and to Dave and Meredith Ficca, Dean and Darian Packard, Stu Nibley, and our gang of amazing partners and athletes: your opening ceremonies and joy and games are second to none.
The board and global ambassadors of Special Olympics supported me every step of the way in the process of writing this book, while at the same time creating the best leadership of an international nonprofit in the world. I am forever grateful to Mike Feldman, Jay Emmett, John Manley, Ossie Kilkenny, Bart Conner, Stephen Carter, Nadia Comaneci, William P. Alford, Andrei Pavlov, Angelo Moratti, Yolanda Eleta, Mark Booth, Steve and Jean Case, Tom Golisano, David Braddock, Ray and Stephanie Lane, Florence Nabayinda, Stacey Johnston, Dr. Michael Hardman, Denis O’Brien, Donna De Varona, Muhtar Kent, Eddie Barbanell, Brian Phillips, Joe Hakim, Ephraim Mohlkhane, Yao Ming, Scott Hamilton, Stevie Wonder, and Vanessa Williams. Each of you and all the amazing leaders of our movement have given and then given more. I can only promise that I am going to continue to ask again and again! I know you will keep echoing the motto of our amazing partners from the Lions Clubs International, whom I thank, too. Their motto says it all: “We serve.”
Vicki Iovine, Jimmy Iovine, and my brother Bobby: What can I say about $100 million? Only that your genius and generosity has given millions of people what matters most—a place to belong, a chance to shine, a community of love. You and the many artists of A Very Special Christmas are the quiet angels of the dignity revolution. I have been honored to be given the chance to try t
o fulfill your vision.
There are so many athletes in our movement who have rocked my world that I can’t even begin to thank them all. Frank Stephens, Martha Hill, Jia Sirui, Kester Edwards, Rita Lawlor, Cyndy Bentley, David Egan, Mark Swiconik, Billy Quick, Dustin Plunkett, Paul Maretti, Constantinos Triantofoulou, Deion Namiseb, Lior Liebling, Troy Ford King, Danielle Liebl, Daniel Thompson, Eddie Barbanell, Mostafa Galal, Matthew Williams, Ricardo Thornton, Ashley Counts, Peter Fleming, Andy Miyares, Katie Wilson, and dozens more: you each cracked me open and taught me a lesson all your own. I hope I’ve captured even a fraction of your wisdom. Loretta Claiborne: you are really the cofounder of Special Olympics. I hope readers will begin to appreciate the depth of spirit and wisdom you bring to the world.
Thanks to Jean Vanier, the poet of tenderness and compassion and faith. “Living saint” only approximates his gift for being the hands and words and eyes of God.
About ten years ago, I went to a talk given by Paul Elie about his book The Life You Save May Be Your Own: An American Pilgrimage. I couldn’t have known that a few years later, he would look me in the eyes and tell me I could write a book and that he would edit it. Sarah Crichton believed him and so did I—sort of—and thus the long journey began. Paul Orzulak helped me get started and Rafe Sagalyn made it happen and nudged—carefully and helpfully. Christine Neulieb was a life saver over the last two years and a brilliant thought partner. I spent two months in the basement of the L’ Arche community in Arlington, Virginia, where Fritz Schloss, Linda Garcia, Eric Arntson, Hazel Pulliam, and Liz Yoder allowed me join their family to try to get my thoughts on paper. After my first day of writing, Linda Garcia asked me, “Is your book finished yet?” That was almost three years ago and I’m proud to finally be able to answer, “Yes, Linda. My book is finished!”
Several people read sections and drafts and made invaluably helpful comments: Jamie Price, Rev. Nancy Lane, Matthew Dowd, David Braddock, Steve Corbin, Martha Beck, John Dow, Anne Burke, Bob Brown, Roger Weissberg, Loretta Claiborne, Sally Quinn, Randy Mascorella, Dr. Sara Scalenghe, Rabbi Julia Watts Belser, Mary Davis, and Mary Gu. In a special way, my sister, Maria, has been willing to listen to me through every confusing manifestation of what I was trying to write and who I’m trying to become. She’s not only a brilliant author, editor, leader, and journalist, but she also knows me better than I know myself. I’m lucky to be loved by a sister like Maria.
Thank goodness that my closest friend, Dan Melrod, hasn’t and won’t read the book. Everyone needs a friend like Dan, but few are as lucky as me to have one.
Martha Beck wrote a book ten years ago and I fell in love with her before I’d seen her or heard her voice. She is the perfect coach—writing coach, speaking coach, grieving coach, laughing coach, playing coach, exploring coach, reckless coach, life coach. Thanks, Martha. I’m finally letting go.
Rose, Tim, Sam, Kathleen, and Caroline: It’s done! You don’t have to read it anymore, hear about it anymore, help me out of my book funk anymore, watch me close the door to write weekend after weekend and month after month and year after year anymore. You know this book is for you. You know I couldn’t have written this book without you. You know that when we’re together, I’m most fully alive.
Linda: I know you’ve lost track of the versions, the changes, the deletions, the stories. You never stopped reading, never stopped helping me find my voice, never stopped telling me to get out of my head and into my heart. Thanks for allowing me to tell a version of our love story and, more, for being the author of it. Love at first sight and love forever. I’m still the luckiest man in the world.
I own the shortcomings of this book. Its gifts, whatever they may be, I owe to all of you.
This portrait of Côte d’Ivoire athlete Adjara Sylla hangs on the wall in my Washington, DC, office. It was taken at the 2007 Special Olympics World Summer Games in Shanghai. Adjara inspires me every day. (Richard Corman)
My mother on the ocean with her older siblings in the mid-1920s. Rosemary was included—a sister like any other. From left: Eunice, Jack, Joe, Rosemary, and Kathleen. (Kennedy Family Collection/JFK Library)
The family together—one of the last photographs that includes all the children. From left to right: Eunice, John, Rosemary, Jean, Joseph Sr., Edward, Rose, Joseph Jr., Patricia, Robert, and Kathleen. Joe and Kathleen would be gone in just a few years, and so would Rosemary. (Kennedy Family Collection/JFK Library)
My mother, Eunice (above, at left), with her sister Rosemary (below and above, at right). Born with an intellectual disability at the height of the eugenics craze, Rosemary might very well have been institutionalized, but instead my grandparents decided to raise her themselves, surrounded by her family. She was perhaps the most extraordinary of the Kennedy children. Before her operation, Rosemary traveled, played sports, and was a part of everything. (Shriver Family Collection)
From the start of her brother’s presidency, my mother worked tirelessly toward a real political breakthrough in the field of intellectual disability. Her hard work led to this moment, when President Kennedy signed that breakthrough into law, on October 24, 1963. (White House Photographs Collection/JFK Library)
President Kennedy was the first head of state known to have met publicly with a person with an intellectual disability. He’s pictured here at the White House in 1962, with nine-year-old David Jordalen of Shrewsbury, Massachusetts, who as a result of this image became a national symbol.
The magic of my mother’s eyes (Rowland Scherman)
When I was about three years old, our backyard became a summer camp filled with children who wanted to play—just like me, except all the campers had intellectual disabilities. Many came from institutions where being outdoors or playing was not an option. (Rowland Scherman)
A poster chronicling the story of the first days of the “revolution” that was Camp Shriver in 1962. (JFK Library/President’s Committee for People with Intellectual Disabilities)
The first ever Special Olympics games. Standing atop the near-empty Soldier Field in Chicago on July 20, 1968, my mother must have wondered if her revolutionary “Olympics” had any chance of catching on. In the years that followed, she would fill stadiums this size many times over. (Special Olympics)
The games were led by Anne Burke (right) and William McFetridge (second from right) of the Chicago Park District, both of whom were relentless despite countless obstacles. Here, my mother hands a check to McFetridge as Chicago Park District Commissioner Marshall Bynum looks on. (Special Olympics)
The first Special Olympics medal moment: this is when “Olympic” came to mean greatness from within. (Special Olympics)
By the time the Special Olympics World Summer Games were held at Notre Dame University in 1987, nearly one hundred countries and many thousands of athletes, volunteers, and fans had joined the movement. Whitney Houston was the opening ceremonies’ headline entertainer, and the show was broadcast on national television for the first time. (Special Olympics)
“One Love” never meant so much as when U2 used the song to introduce Nelson Mandela at the Special Olympics World Summer Games in 2003 in Ireland. (Special Olympics)
My dad embodied the joy of Special Olympics, which he always called “a miracle!” (Richard Corman)
After nine years of dating, Linda and I had the best wedding ever! (Shriver Family Collection)
Our family happened fast! And Linda insisted that each of our children (from left: Rose, Caroline, Sam, Kathleen, and Tim) play Special Olympics Unified Sports throughout their childhood. Needless to say, they all loved it! (Shriver Family Collection)
Until much too recently, the most likely future for a person with intellectual disabilities in this country was institutionalization—and that future was a horrible one. One institution was described by its local newspaper as a “vast junkyard of wasted humans.” (Center on Human Policy at Syracuse University)
Instead, Loretta became one of Special Olympics’ most heroic athletes, participating in hundre
ds of games, finishing twenty-six marathons, and winning acclaim from people both inside and outside the Special Olympics movement. Here, she introduces President Clinton to a nationwide television audience and to seventy-five thousand spectators at the Yale Bowl during the 1995 Special Olympics World Summer Games opening ceremonies. (Special Olympics)
It’s the sort of place where Loretta Claiborne (left) might well have ended up, had it not been for the strength and love of her mother, Rita. (Loretta Claiborne)
The start of the 10K race for Special Olympics athletes from southern Africa in Arusha, Tanzania, in 1998. Billy Quick (front row, far left) and Loretta Claiborne (back row, third from left) joined the runners. Ramadhani Salim Chambo (back row, fourth from left) became my hero that day. (Special Olympics)
Rosario and Eric Marin continue to inspire. (Rosario Marin)
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