Shadows Behind the Medals


Recap So Far:

From 2003 onwards, Josephine had a spare key to my home, and likewise to William's house in Bray. It meant she could visit freely, without needing permission — a gesture of trust and friendship that lasted many years. It was common for her to visit, have a meal, watch some TV or a DVD from our growing collection, and then head home on the last bus back to Wicklow.

But as her involvement in the Special Olympics club grew, particularly from 2015/2016 onwards, that freedom started to change. Control quietly crept in. Josephine had to start asking for the club’s permission to attend events or even to join me after a club day, especially when her mother wasn't home — which, sadly, was often. There were times when she would be forced to return to Wicklow first with the club, be dropped off at an empty house, and then catch the next bus back to Dublin herself just to visit me for a simple meal and companionship.

Before the club's influence took over, our friendship was natural and easy. Afterward, it became controlled, monitored, and conditional.

Meanwhile, behind the scenes at Special Olympics Ireland HQ in Park House, things were far from smooth. When preparing for the National Collection Day — the biggest fundraising day for all 32 counties across the five Special Olympics Ireland regions — there were often just two of us assigned to handle all preparations. That meant sorting around 6,000 collection buckets, hi-vis jackets, and signs. On a good day, a few temporary volunteers from the Volunteer Centre might join for an hour or two, but mostly, it was a mountain of work for two people.

This massive day, meant to "support over 7000 athletes," was run on a shoestring and an army of goodwill — but without the real, structural support that would have shown respect for the volunteers and athletes alike.

And then there was the leadership.

Pam Beacon, the "Queen Bee" of the Wicklow club, exemplified the quiet control. Committee members were told to sit quietly and never question her. Club chairpersons were removed if they didn’t provide her with daily updates. Early club photos were hoarded onto her personal CD-ROM collection, never openly shared online. Social media was frowned upon. Transparency was avoided. And in that environment, natural friendships like mine and Josephine’s were slowly, systematically eroded.

It’s only now, years later, with time to reflect, that I see it clearly.

We normalized the control. We excused the micromanagement. We laughed off the manipulation. But deep down, it was isolating. Dehumanizing.

Today, I sit here alone — no visits, no shared meals, no DVDs watched together. If we had never joined, maybe Josephine would still be hopping on a bus to visit, still free.

Maybe I wouldn't be sitting here alone 24/7.

Maybe.

And yet, this story must be told — not out of anger, but out of love. Out of loyalty to Josephine and every athlete and volunteer who deserved better.

Blog Link: Shadows Behind the Medals


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