Challenged Athletes Foundation: No Daylight to Separate Us....Only Kinship

The existentialist philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre argued that “Hell is—other people." The problem with his claim is that the opposite is also true. Heaven is—other people, too. And no where was this more evident than at the Challenged Athletes Foundation (CAF)'s seventh annual gala, Celebration of Heart.

CAF has a mission of providing support for people with physical disabilities so they can compete in competitive sports or broadly, in fitness activities …also known as adaptive athletics. It should come as no surprise that "people who are active in sports have higher self-esteem, are great teammates, are more independent and have an enhanced quality of life. CAF is a community—a self-selecting one of forward-thinking adaptive folks who want to excel in life (Shanken)." Sounds like heaven to me. 

As written on their website, "The Challenged Athletes Foundation’s Celebration of Heart is a tribute to our dreamers—honoring the strength and resilience of the athletes who aspire to reach new heights. And to those who have the heart to help them turn dreams into reality."

Held at the magnificent Pier 27, the gathering was meant to be an evening for people to "meet remarkable athletes, learn their stories, and feel their passion." We gained a sense of "how CAF opens a world of opportunities to those with physical disabilities, cultivating communities through programs, mentorships, and coaching; funding the equipment that makes participation possible; and, most importantly, providing unwavering support."

Special guests included 50 athletes—of all ages, races and abilities. From triathletes to basketball players, runners to rowers—there was no inability amidst those who society sees with a disability.

I learned about CAF through the co-chair of the evening—Alan Shanken, a long time CAF board member. Winner of the "never met a stranger award," I met Alan at the Olympic Club where we both work out and play golf. The man can't help but build bridges and create connections with other people. And, we have many—our common love for the Golden State Warriors and Steph Curry, his niece (who is my former student), and East Bay living. I shared with him the stories of two good friends who have their own unique challenges as athletes—Alex is a triple amputee and Mary has a neurological condition that has affected her mobility. In sharing their stories, I got to learn about Alan's stories and the stories of CAF. A friendship was born. I'm so grateful.

Alan was the (unofficial) hospitality chair and served as emcee for the program. I learned a new mechanism for inclusion from his very first speech. For those who may be visually impaired, he described his physical stature, general appearance and what he was wearing. This measure was just one more example that no one at this gathering would be excluded.

Two honorees described their relationship—one of mentor and mentee. Though their physical challenges differ—the mentee is in a wheelchair and the mentor has a deformity on her arm. Both shared their dreams and where that journey has taken them. One woman will compete for the United States in the Paralympic games in Paris this summer. In listening to their testimonies, it's hard to say who has benefitted more from this relationship. It is a positive sum game.

The event raised nearly $800,000. It was obvious to everyone in attendance that CAF is a cause worth supporting and celebration. And, that celebration was manifested on the dance floor. 

In this space, I saw people dancing in their wheelchairs—spinning them around and singing out loud. I held hands with my friend Mary and her walker. At one point, someone took off their prosthetic leg and lifted it up and down as if to shout "L'chaim!" Young and old, coordinated or not, we all stood in a circle—smiling, clapping, just as we are—joy intoxicating us all.

For some people, the idea of getting out on a dance floor is hell. But not this one. The best way to describe it was a place of kinship. Greg Boyle, SJ writes:

No daylight to separate us.
Only kinship. Inching ourselves closer to creating a community of kinship such that God might recognize it. Soon we imagine, with God, this circle of compassion. Then we imagine no one standing outside of that circle, moving ourselves closer to the margins so that the margins themselves will be erased.

I once held a vision of eternal life as this taco stand in Las Brisas, Mexico. I think the dance floor at the Challenged Athletes Foundation—a circle of compassion, inclusion, acceptance and unity, even in our differences—is much more accurate. It is a place of kinship; here, the margins are erased. Join us. All are welcome to participate in the work of CAF. Congratulations to all who planned and hosted a wonderful evening. 

Photo Credits

CAF