I’ve been spending Saturdays in a fun (and exhausting) way.
Beckett and I get up early for his 8 a.m. soccer practice at River Soccer Club. We then come home for an hour and head back for Carson’s TOPSOCCER program (The Outreach Program for Soccer). The goal is to provide young athletes with disabilities an opportunity to find joy and excitement through playing soccer. While partnering them with buddies, these young kids get a sense of inclusion. Due to physical, emotional and mental limitations, they can’t play against neuro-typical kids in a game setting. This provides an outlet for them as well as their parents.
In Carson’s case, I actually think physically he could play in a local recreation soccer game. He can run, pass and shoot, but he gets upset and emotional when someone takes the ball away from him. Competitive sports is not for him, but TOPSOCCER gives him an outlet to be active and make new friends in fellow participants and especially his buddies.
I try to help with the buddy recruitment aspect by sending flyers to local schools to ensure each participant has a buddy or two to work with them throughout each session. The goal is for the parents to not be involved and get an hour break in a social setting.
On the first day, and subsequent days, it was inspiring to see about a dozen seniors from Worcester Prep turn out to volunteer. What I see in these teenagers is inspiring. They come out on Saturdays and volunteer their time to work with special needs kids they don’t know with a variety of disabilities. Some kids don’t touch a soccer ball the entire session and instead just run around (and maybe even away from their buddies). Some kids have bad days and don’t want to do anything except bounce on a ball. You truly never know what you will get each day, but these teenagers show up anyway and adapt to the unique situations. It’s a wonderful thing to see and impacts all of us parents.
A few years back, I realized it’s also an impactful experience for the buddies themselves. One young lady (a recent graduate of Worcester Prep) who worked with Carson for a few years penned her college admissions essay about her experience. It was titled, “Silence Speaks Volume.” She is in college at Wake Forest University so I don’t have her permission to publish her name. Nonetheless, I think the world is going to be just fine with young people like this around.
Here’s an excerpt:
“I met Carson through The Outreach Program for Soccer, a soccer program designed for children with special needs. When I arrived, my attention moved directly to him. Here was this little boy with red hair passing the ball with his father, except I wouldn’t consider it passing given that Carson’s dad was the only one doing so. When the ball arrived at his feet, Carson would gleefully pick it up and punt it as far as he possibly could. He laughed as the soccer ball soared. It’s clear to me as I recall this moment that it was his enthusiasm for life and obvious love of fun that drew me in. I couldn’t help but walk across the field and introduce myself. As we exchanged smiles, he passed me the ball. In that moment, soccer became the bond that brought us together.
As we ran around kicking soccer balls in a manner that was clearly against the rules, but much more fun, something within me changed. I always have defined myself by my ability to confidently speak with passion, but Carson has made me recognize that it is not always about what I say. When he smiles, laughs, or simply looks at me, it’s obvious that these seemingly basic gestures demonstrate his ability to express himself through action.
When I choose to speak my mind, which is often, those who are listening come to understand the passion I have within. However, this verve occasionally makes me feel like a water faucet. The words that flow from my mouth become more similar to water rushing out of a spigot. They spill and spill until the handle controlling the water is forcibly turned off. In fact, the first draft of this essay was 264 words over the 650-word limit. I live my life like this because I fear not being able to be heard. Words are the guaranteed right to my self-expression, and expression is important to me given that it’s woven into the fabric of my soul. Through words, I have become myself.
This is why Carson has had such an impact on me. He’s taught me that the importance of my interactions does not lie solely in how I speak, but also in how I express myself to others. Because Carson cannot speak, he has the ability to be more observant and thoughtful with his actions. Therefore, everything he does is done with purpose. This has sparked a need inside of me to demonstrate this kind of intentionality within my own life. As I interact with others, I recognize that I can express my emotions, desires, and needs through my own actions, not merely my words.
I still find myself saying too much occasionally, but I never do too little. Furthering my self-expression through my actions has become inherent within my way of life. My goal as Carson’s team buddy was to be a positive role model for him, but in the process, he stirred up a new way of thinking. Oftentimes, in a world full of words, expression through action can say much more than words ever could.”
