Chapter X: A Response from Within
In April 2025, after months of collecting stories, observing the slow erosion of friendships, and witnessing the quiet suffering behind the smiling faces of athletes, I reached out to Special Olympics Ireland directly. I shared a link to a series of Facebook posts that captured the reality many of us were living—an invisible cost borne by those who gave the most to their clubs, often at the expense of their meals, their independence, and even their personal relationships.
Soon after, I received a reply. It came from Kathy, the Marketing and Communications Manager for Special Olympics Ireland. Her message was courteous, empathetic, and cautiously optimistic.
She wrote:
> Hi William,
I will bring these concerns to the Directors. I will come back to you with a more official statement. I really feel for you and those you are advocating for. We try our utmost to provide as much as we can for competition funds for our athletes. We are trying to push for a more grass roots focus internally on a club level and things are changing slowly. We are transparent with funds and all our expenditures can be seen on our website with our annual reports. I think there needs to be more understanding between the clubs and Special Olympics but also we as an organisation need to have more of a club focus. Many of us within the organisation believe this and upper Management as well. It takes time to bring about change but please be heartened to know we are. I will speak with the Directors and share your concerns. I think there is probably a solution to this that can be worked out.
Thank you for bringing this to our attention.
Kathy (Marketing and Comms Manager)
It was the first time I’d heard a voice from within the organisation openly admit that internal change was needed. She acknowledged the growing disconnect between the national body and the clubs. She assured me that change was happening—slowly—and that there was a shared desire to improve things at the grassroots level.
I appreciated the tone. It felt sincere. But I also knew the rhythm. I’d seen this play out before: the polite nod, the promised internal discussions, the assurance that "we're listening"—followed by silence or small, symbolic gestures.
She mentioned transparency and pointed me to the annual reports. Yet for those of us skipping meals to pay for club trips, who’ve watched vulnerable people get pushed to the margins when they could no longer meet the unspoken demands, financial spreadsheets offer little comfort.
This reply, while welcome, left a quiet ache. It felt like a moment of hope—but also a holding pattern. Words alone can’t undo years of quiet suffering, or restore friendships broken under pressure. Real change requires more than good intentions. It requires courage.
For now, I wait. Not in bitterness, but in resolve. Because behind every medal is a shadow, and behind every polite reply is a test of what comes next.