Steptember is a four-week event to raise awareness and support for people with cerebral palsy and other disabilities. Beginning on September 3, teams from around the world will challenge themselves to take 10,000 steps a day and fundraise along the way— and nearly any activity, including biking, physical therapy and yoga, can be converted into steps. Find out more about the event and how you can participate on the Steptember website.
Team Hoyt will lend their “Yes You Can” attitude to rally teams participating in this year’s Steptember event. Last year, over 10,000 people worldwide participated in the challenge and raised nearly $1 million. Team Hoyt is committed to helping make this year’s event an even bigger success!
Rick Hoyt may use a wheelchair, but that has not stopped him from competing in over 1100 athletic events across the past 37 years. Together, Rick and his father Dick are known across the disability community and race circuit as Team Hoyt. They have run in 70 marathons – 32 of them being the Boston Marathon – and have competed in over 250 triathlons. After the pair’s first race in 1977, Rick said running felt like his disability disappeared. He felt free.
Rick was born in 1962 as a spastic quadriplegic with cerebral palsy– but despite these disabilities, Rick’s mind and spirit have always been strong. His family supported his quest for independence and inclusion in community, sports, education, and the workplace, culminating with his graduation from Boston University in 1993.
Dick travels the country doing corporate and community presentations, educating the public about disability awareness, and promoting the Team Hoyt motto: “Yes You Can.” Through his presentations, Dick shares his lifelong commitment to changing attitudes and educating others on the world of disabilities. We look forward to seeing this message empower Steptember affiliates, participants, and supporters to adopt the same mentality between now, the event’s conclusion on September 30th, and beyond!
“Our family is personally affected by disability and we know first-hand what perseverance can accomplish. Joining in the Steptember campaign, like a entering a marathon, is a way to show the world what you can do once you have committed to something,” said Dick Hoyt. “When asked to be a part of Stepember, Rick and I accepted right away, as this campaign aligns with the Team Hoyt mission of empowering people with disabilities”
“Dick and Rick Hoyt are the perfect ambassadors for Steptember. They truly embody their motto – “Yes You Can” – and show individuals with disabilities, their families, and the people who care about them how to ‘live a life without limits,’” said Stephen Bennett, President and CEO of UCP. “We are proud that they are on board to help inspire us all to take 10,000 steps a day toward an admirable goal.”
For more information about Team Hoyt and the duo’s 37 years of racing, please visit their website at www.teamhoyt.com.
By: Shirene Menon, Guest Blogger
UCP works to ensure that individuals of all abilities can live their lives without limits. This, of course, includes participating in sports! You have probably noticed that, with the 2014 FIFA World CUP going on right now, soccer/football is a hot topic throughout the world– so this opportunity to learn about the Singapore CP Football Team comes with great timing. We are also working on another blog post with the U.S. Paralympic National Soccer Team to share in our August newsletter. The team will share with us the many physical, emotional and social benefits that come from playing the sport and discuss ways individuals can become involved– so stay tuned!
These guys should be at the World Cup. Let’s get one thing out of the way: these guys have cerebral palsy. But what is important is that they play a serious game of football.
It’s a sweltering hot Sunday afternoon when I first meet the team at the Singapore Khalsa Association, where they train weekly. The sun is relentless. The guys are seated on the edge of the pitch, their coach Mohammed Zainudeen holding court with a pep talk.
They’re facing another team in a friendly match. The game kicks off soon enough, and I am introduced to the world of cerebral palsy and sport. For 60 minutes I see running, kicking, dribbling, passing, deft touches, shooting and scoring. The common term is disability. But on the pitch, the truer words are talent, passion, teamwork and determination.
Off the pitch, they come together to celebrate another weekly game wholeheartedly executed. The camaraderie is apparent in the easy smiles, chatter and jokes. Speaking to them and listening in on their conversations, I immediately catch on that they want to talk about football, about school, about plans, about sport, about girls, about futures. Not about their muscular condition.
They are footballers. There’s no place in their lives for self-pity or resignation.
They are liberated, full members of society. And by the way, they bagged Singapore a silver medal at the 7th Asian Para Games in Myanmar. They didn’t choose to have cerebral palsy, but you can certainly tell when these footballers are on the pitch, that they’ve chosen to live life large and full.
Keep living it large, Bala, Firdaus, Harun, Hitesh, Khairul, Nizam, Mubarak, Peter, Shafiq, Shahidil, Suhaimi and Taufiq! Want to know more about the team? Like them on Facebook and show your support at www.ourbetterworld.org.
Video shot and edited by Anshul Tiwari. Produced and written by Tsen-Waye Tay.
This story is brought to you by Our Better World, an initiative of the Singapore International Foundation – sharing stories to inspire good.
by D’Arcee Neal, UCP’s Manager of Institutional Giving
- Being a person who is disabled and who works as a disability advocate is like being on a see-saw. I am tempted at times –influenced by society and my own experiences – to move into rage mode, because so much of what I see day in and day out doesn’t mesh with what I know is right. But then I tilt toward the other side which is a “woe is me” mode of pity, sympathy and understanding because I know that I can better get my point across by interacting with people in a gentle, respectful way. In reality, I think that effective advocates balance on the see-saw’s fulcrum, right in the middle. You can teach without being combative, but shoving the rage down inside of you and ignoring what’s wrong with a pair of rose-colored contacts in your eyes helps no one.
So, when I saw a video this week of CNN’s Anderson Cooper as he tried an empathy exercise for people who have schizophrenia, I moved back and forth on the emotional see-saw as I tried to make sense of what I was seeing. I came across the clip after seeing comments on it from people in an online Cerebral Palsy group I belong to. They were posting angry comments about the purpose of empathy exercises and their effectiveness with the general public. I wondered for a moment: do empathy exercises really do ANYTHING?
Most of us (especially people with disabilities) already know that nothing accurately replicates another individual’s struggles. This is partially why struggles are so difficult, whether it be issues of race, disability, sexuality or any of the myriad possibilities in the human race. However, this isn’t to say that we should just shrug our shoulders. If the only people willing to learn about disabilities were doctors, then the world would be a much different place, and society might see medical professionals as little more than morbidly curious paparazzi with scalpels instead of cameras.
Thankfully, the world isn’t like that and we have people from all walks of life dedicated to learning about, dealing with, and understanding people with disabilities. But for those who haven’t crossed that threshold of understanding, then empathy exercises are one of the best ways to offer them the tiniest glimpse into another person’s world.
In college, I had a friend who decided to live in a wheelchair for 48 hours as part of a sociology project. In my mind, I laughed because I knew there was a slim chance that he would actually do it, but I played along. Just rolling about 2 or 3 blocks to the cafeteria for dinner together, he was out of breath from the effort. He exclaimed that he needed to “pause” the experiment because he had to use the bathroom really badly. My facial expression said it all. And I think he began to understand what many see as the fundamental flaw of the empathy exercise: they end. My Cerebral Palsy is a constant, all-day, all-consuming affair, much like any permanent disability and I understand why some people are angry about the idea that it is possible to simulate it. The exercise cheapens and reduces the experience, in their opinion.
I think that if the experience is framed in the right way, it could be such that people would never forget it. Even if the experience isn’t particularly powerful, the understanding is there at least for the moment, so that people might think about it in the future, and that’s a good thing. Honestly, that’s what I think empathy exercises are about – not about changing someone’s perspective in a mind-blowing way, but introducing small changes which allows leads them to momentary understanding which might come back.
Empathy exercises may not be the societal game changer many people want it to be, but you have to start somewhere.