Football, Ability & Down syndrome.

There are some who will learn that the “dis” in disability is not a stop sign, that the bigger part of the word is “ability”.

It was a quiet Sunday afternoon. I had turned on the TV to catch up on the latest football scores, when a knock came at the door. The woman asked if I were Richard D. Reilly and I said yes. “I’m Theresa Taylor, Jamie’s mother,” she said.

You probably don’t know Jamie Taylor. I don’t either, at least not yet, but I know of him. Read the following letter I wrote recently to our local newspaper; you’ll get the picture:
Dear Editor,
A Victory! Congratulations, especially to the Norwalk and Darien communities. (Check out the sports page, the Hour, October 17, 2016, “A bright ray of light” by John Nash.) The accompanying 2/3 page full color action photo features #63, Jamie Taylor, a confident Brien McMahon lineman dashing downfield to what would become a 60 yard touchdown run.

The caption states it is his first career touchdown. Final score: Darien 54, Brien McMahon 17. This superbly written coverage by John Nash refers to Taylor as a “very special player…” The play, “Ice Cream” was tailor made for him. McMahon coach A.J. Albano speaks well of this player, of how Jamie inspires the team. “He shows up to practice everyday and works hard…he does whatever we ask of him.” Only in passing does Nash mention that Jamie is a person with Down syndrome. The focus of the article is not Jamie’s disability, it’s his ability.

Just how hard has Jamie worked? Try this little exercise: Write your name on a piece of paper – but with your non-dominant hand. Revealing? Imagine the incremental challenges for a person with a disability. Jamie Taylor has been working hard all his life, achieving and surmounting the odds. With the support of positive advocacy , he too is discovering and experiencing that greater potential within.

Darien coach, Rob Trifone and the entire Blue Wave, coach Albano and all the Senators, spectators, and John Nash of the Hour, your advocacy of inclusion and acceptance is opening up a world of possibilities.  A brighter world where we all contribute to its betterment.

Jamie Taylor, as an inspirational self-advocate, we recognize your strength. Certainly in lifting your coach off the field in a celebratory hug. But even more so for raising the bar of expectation for our global society.

Respectfully submitted,

Richard D. Reilly

Advocacy reaps rewards, sometimes unexpected.

Theresa sat with Marilee and me for more than an hour. She said she was timid about coming, but really wanted to meet the guy who so appreciated her son and his triumphs. We spoke of Jamie’s – and the family’s – journey from day one, of “could he? would he?” and the struggles to advance to “he will!, he does!”

Theresa recounted this story: Jamie has always loved football. To make the team in the sixth grade, like any other player, he had to pass a physical. Although the exam was a success, the doctor wouldn’t sign the form because of Down syndrome. Jamie’s father declared, “He WILL play football!”

For a second opinion, the parents chose Yale New Haven Hospital, a premier orthopedic center in the United States. They would accept the decision, either way.
The staff welcomed Jamie and included him in every aspect of the exam. (The previous physician never spoke a word to Jamie.) When Jamie came home, he raced across the football field yelling, “Coach, coach, I can get my pads!”

Can you imagine how equal Jamie feels at football practice? Being able to suit up is not a token of acceptance. Quite the contrary. Jamie doesn’t take shortcuts. He’s expected to show up, suit up, and work his tail off. He participates with a passion, inspiring his teammates to do likewise. Coach Albano speaking about Jamie’s touchdown play says, “He deserved it, that’s all. He earned it. When he picked me up on the field, that’s a picture I will frame and hang up in my office, and when I’m having a tough day, I will remember why I’m coaching football.”

This is a time when seniors are visiting college campus’s.  Jaime is no exception. He recently visited  Clemson University…his first choice. This young fellow is on the way to bettering his life and at the same time being a mentor to others as a positive self advocate. There are parents who need to know they can let go. There are students who need to feel that it’s possible. My grandson, Louis (8), is already energized by playing basketball with Jaime.

Theresa heaps praise on our Norwalk, CT organization, STAR, and now knows from us about GiGi’s Playhouse. The groups have a lot in common. Networking is not competition, it is strength together. We become formidable advocates, and, like Jamie’s parents, more able to throw a block or even make a tackle occasionally. The touchdowns will come.

We seek a level playing field.  A short time ago, Theresa was a stranger standing on our front porch. Now we are friends, linking each other to the larger network of advocacy, like STAR and GiGi’s and all the families that champion our loved ones. We’re in the business of opening doors. Telling our stories makes a difference. There are some who will learn that the “dis” in disability is not a stop sign, that the bigger part of the word is “ability”.

Richard Reilly
The Grandparent Connection