Even through the grainy black and white TV pictures, his physical strength shone through. He used it well during his election campaign. Nixon forgot to shave. He was cool clean hero.
I wasn’t born when JFK was here but his presence still dominates irish society. His tragic death five months later only added to the sense that this was a time never to be repeated.
It was new. Ireland was still straitjacketed by a culture that ignored any creativity, an economy which was stagnating, and a generation rushing to the exit.
And then the star arrived.
The thing is that I don’t buy it. Yes, Kennedy was the first Catholic President but he was no outsider. A cynic like me might say the trip to Ireland suited JFK domestically. History has thrown questions about JFK which our forebears were unaware of. Should that be ignored by today’s commentators? That’s a question.
Looking back, I’m not sure what the visit achieved. He didn’t really point a way to the future. The visit was all about the past. Perhaps I’m being uncharitable. JFK wanted to come home and his family established a relationship that lasts until this day.
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That relationship reached it’s pinnacle ten years ago when the Special Olympics World Games came to Ireland. JFK’s sister Rose was the brainchild of the organization which seeks to empower people with learning disabilities through sport.
What did I feel like in the lead up to the games arriving? I’ll be honest with you and say I did think about leaving the country for the 7 days. Not because I thought lesser of the athletes. No, it was because I had lived all my life here and knew the joke that was Irish policy towards disabled people. The fact that each team was been farmed out to towns around the coumtry struck me as doing it on the cheap. I also had a quiet chuckle to myself thinking about the state of physical access some towns had.
When the week did begin, my fears began to ease. The first glimmer of hope came when our Taoiseach of the time [his name slips my mind] was booed as he addressed the opening ceremony. The crowd understood celebration takes many forms. The presence of Nelson Mandela added to the idea the organizers understood the wider issues.
I did attend a day’s event. It was one of the Athletic day’s out in Santry. The highlight for me was a young Iraqi athlete running in a hijab. She ran on her own. It wasn’t a record time but the joy, the joy. Were there tears? Of course. The warmth of the sun was matched by the inner warmth I felt leaving the arena that day.
So ten years on.
As I write, special education hours have been cut by 10%. Oh dear. Mobility grants have disappeared. Oh dear oh dear. On the other hand we are seeing people with learning disabilities attain higher educational qualifications.
Was it worth it? To be honest I’m unsure. It was a great week and will stay with us. It introduced us to fellow citizens who happen to have learning disabilities. For that we have a Kennedy to thank.
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Let’s talk about those cuts. Not in an isn’t-it-awful-think-of –the-children type of way but in a hard headed economic way. In my day, you were either in mainstream or special education. There was no flexibility. Staying within the special education system was a guarantee you would never receive any recognizable educational qualification. You also entered the world of training. Training attracted funds. I’m not talking tiny amounts. We are entering the world of human headage payments.
Groups found themselves incredibly rich with the help of massive amounts of EU training funds. The thing is a great deal of this training lasted a life time and led to no job or financial independence for the individual disabled person. They were condemned to a life on welfare with the state picking up the tab.
Compare that to somebody who has received educational support. They will go on to maximize this education and should be able to find employment, pay taxes, and generally lead a full life. That’s called investment. Not charity. Not special spending measures. It’s investment. Troika please take note.
So there you go. Enjoy mid-summer weekend. God, have you noticed the nights drawing in already….
