Advaith’s early life wasn’t easy. His mother’s challenging pregnancy followed by his own developmental delays and meningitis left him facing an uphill climb. Diagnosed with attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) and mild intellectual disability, the odds seemed stacked against him. But his mother, a teacher, refused to let societal perceptions define him. Enrolling him in a mainstream school, she set him on a different course, determined to nurture his unique strengths.

While writing wasn’t his forte, Advaith, whose name means unique in Sanskrit, found different ways of expressing himself. Impressively, he could flawlessly chant a hundred Sanskrit verses. However, his raw talent as a swimmer was unleashed when his coach, Rama Rao, spotted his potential. Here in the calm waters of the swimming pool, he excelled in the rhythm of strokes, a language he grasped perfectly.

Under the mentorship of his coach, Advaith found solace and strength in swimming and his self-esteem grew from strength to strength as he deep-dived into the sport.

As his mother, Indira K Ashok said “Winning a silver medal at the 2019 Special Olympics World Summer Games in Abu Dhabi was a huge accomplishment, but the true reward has been witnessing his growth. As parents we have learnt from Advaith too, his clear thoughts, his affection.”

She continued, “It’s overwhelming to see him growing so confident. Earlier too we went out of our way for Advaith but kept wondering whether what we were doing was right, we were unsure. Special Olympics gave us hope.”

Advaith has since extended his sporting success to the workplace where he successfully landed a job at ADP as a process associate in Captiva Garnishments. In his role, he processes checks and identifies reasons for the non-payment of debts.

The young man’s speech at the ADP HR Summit, where he had shared his story with a global audience played a pivotal role in his hiring, as he spoke confidently and captivated listeners with his powerful journey and raw honesty.

“For me Special Olympics has been nothing short of being transformative. The Athlete oath describes the very spirit of how we achieve excellence,” said Advaith excitedly. “I am proud to be associated with ADP technologies, a company that has accepted me whole-heartedly with my different abilities. I wouldn’t have reached here without the support of my father, mentors, grandma and my backbone, my mom,” he continued.

Citing Advaith’s story, Dipak Natali, Regional President and Managing Director, Special Olympics Asia Pacific, applauded progressive employers like ADP, even as he acknowledges that the road to inclusion continues to be an uphill one, requiring a whole-of-society commitment.

“A truly inclusive workplace is one where People with Intellectual Disabilities (PWIDs) are able to learn, thrive, and be respected. Embracing diversity isn’t just a moral imperative; it’s the catalyst for innovation and creativity in workplaces, and a brighter, more inclusive future for all,” he stressed.

To know more, follow @humanraceasia and @soasiapacific.

The post A case of different strokes for different folks – Advaith’s journey appeared first on Human RACE.

In the first 3 years, he wouldn’t speak. We enrolled him in a playschool and employed a caregiver for him at home. I couldn’t stop worrying. Later, we moved him to a school with better facilities, hoping that he would clock his milestones and develop social skills.

But during class, we noticed that he struggled to follow instructions. While other children stayed in line, he would run all over the room. Sometimes he would flap his arms, or jump up and down, or scream for no reason. He had to be held, to calm him down.

When he was diagnosed with autism, I was in shock. I grieved for a long time. I was crying so much. I would wake up in the middle of the night in tears. My husband tried his best to help me accept the fact, but it was hard.

I was so used to excelling in everything I did. I was a psychology major in University and did well in the corporate world for almost 13 years before having a baby. I never expected that I would have a child with special needs.

But fate works in miraculous ways. My husband reminded me that I’ve always dreamt of being a teacher. I decided to leave the corporate world, and pursue a masters in special education. Akim became the subject of my thesis. And as part of my internship, I worked at Kids Nook Integrated School, a school for children with and without disabilities.

I enrolled Akim at Kids Nook soon after. He started behavioural therapy and special education classes. He went through another diagnosis. This time, we found they also had Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD).

I learnt about the Special Olympics Young Athletes Program, a sport and play program that helps improve motor and cognitive skills, which the school adopted. They would let the children start their day with fun physical activities like throwing a ball, batting, and going through obstacle courses, before going to class.

I remember Akim’s first Young Athletes session. He was just 4. He was so excited he kept tripping and falling over everything. But every day, the activities helped a little in his concentration, balance and coordination. Jumping. Throwing. Catching. It was all so simple, easy to replicate at home, and effective. It gave Akim the foundation to build up his health and social skills.

It makes me laugh when I look back now and realize how far he’s come. He’s 10 now and in the second grade. He spent 6 years in kindergarten so he’s a little behind. But it’s ok. We want him to move at his own pace.

The past 10 years have been a test of our faith. We’ve put up with unkind remarks in church, in grocery stores, in restaurants. People stare. They point and whisper. One time, Akim was playing with the ice in the freezer at a supermarket. An elderly lady told me sternly to control him. This is not a playground, she said. She wouldn’t stop complaining about his lack of discipline even after I explained he is a child with autism. Her remarks hurt terribly. I sat in the car in tears. I called my husband and was inconsolable. Why were people so cruel? He was only 6 years old then.

We stopped going to church for 2 months. We stopped attending parties unless we were among close friends and family. People didn’t understand his behaviour. He would push other kids, thinking it was a form of greeting. We didn’t want him to be labelled as a ‘problem child’.

At swim class, he would pull other children’s hair. He would splash around and not train. Parents said they didn’t want him in their classes. I got him individual lessons instead. I’ve lost count of the coaches who have given up and left. My husband suggested we stop the lessons. I said no. Another parent of a child with intellectual disabilities told me never to give up. She went through the same thing. Her child is now a Special Olympics gold medalist, representing the Philippines.

Then one day, it just happened. Six years after we first enrolled him, he swam an entire lap. Now, he can swim the breaststroke and the front crawl.

My experiences made me stronger as a mother and an advocate. I wanted to educate not just my family, but the world. If everyone can have a ‘person-first’ mindset, the world will be a better place.

I joined the parent organizations to learn more about Akim’s condition. I spoke to neighbours, friends and their children about Akim and his disability. Now, when he sneaks out of the house and goes around playing with doorbells, they understand. Or when they hear him screaming, they do not judge or complain. At parties, their children play with him.

He’s learnt to set himself a routine. He starts every day with a workout. There is time for art, phone, TV. We use a timer. He knows that he has to wait. I started him on virtual art classes during the lockdown and uncovered a hidden talent. Akim is a natural artist. Some of his works were showcased in a virtual exhibition recently.

My son loves to sing. He has an angelic voice. We have since returned to the church and the priest said he can join the choir once the pandemic is over and we can all meet in person again.

Children are gifts. Typical or atypical, we must give them the opportunity to spread their wings. It is up to us to discover their talents and potential. My hope for Akim is simple. I want him to be independent, healthy, happy, and have a career he loves. Maybe in the arts, in music, or in sports. Who knows? Sky’s the limit.

My mother used to teach Akim when he was very little, to pray for God to cure him of autism. Now, his nightly prayer goes like this, “God, bless me, bless my autism and my ADHD.”

To find out more about how to be part of the #WalkForInclusion campaign, please download our summary guide here. We thank you for your generosity and look forward to your participation!

The post A Mother’s Prayer appeared first on Human RACE.

The festival of Eid brings me painful memories. It was during Eid, two years ago, that I faced the most excruciating hurdle of my life. I lost three of my closest and dearest – my husband, father-in-law and younger son – to a house fire. I went from having a big, happy family to being all alone; but I had no time to mourn because my elder son needed me more than ever.

My story began more than 10 years ago when I moved from Saudi Arabia to Pakistan to join the Karachi School of Arts to pursue Design. After that, I worked as a designer and researcher. I was passionate about my job and wanted to marry someone who shared my passion. That’s when I met Danish, a fellow designer. He was my soulmate. In 2010, we got married.

When our first child Abdul Mannan was born, we realized that he was hyperactive compared to his peers. We got complaints from his teachers about his behaviour. We consulted a doctor who told us that Mannan had developmental difficulties accompanied by a mild case of ADHD (Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder). I decided to take a course in early education as a Montessori Director, hoping that the training would enable me to help my son. The course helped me to understand the personality of children with ADHD and ways to handle and take care of them.

But just when things started to feel normal, my life turned topsy turvy. I will never forget the nightmare from 2 years ago, on the special occasion of Eid. We decided to eat out as our house was being fumigated. When we came home, my husband went downstairs to switch the generator on. While he was filling it with petrol, I heard a loud blast. As I ran down the stairs, my heart sank. The entire scene felt surreal. The fire spread so quickly that it engulfed our home within minutes. My father-in-law and children couldn’t escape in time.

Tears seared my cheeks and I was shaking as I rushed all of them to the nearest hospital. In the air was the nauseating smell of burnt flesh and clothes. At the hospital, the staff were not equipped to handle their severe injuries and refused to take them in. I had to then rush them to a larger hospital, the Liaquat National Hospital, where they admitted my sons but couldn’t find beds for my father-in-law and husband. I had to take them to a third hospital.

I kept a vigil by my sons’ beds while my sister-in-law took care of my husband and father-in-law. She gave me daily updates about their condition. We prayed day and night, but we just couldn’t catch a break. The hospital was not properly equipped with the right facilities and my husband had to be moved to yet another hospital.

By this time, both my sons had to be put on ventilators to help them breathe. The next day, I got the news that my husband had started vomiting and had trouble breathing. I prayed constantly for the recovery of my family, hoping against all hope.

Then, the inevitable happened. My father-in-law passed away. Before he died, he had asked me several times if I thought he would survive and I nodded, hoping that he would. A day later, I lost my younger son, followed by the death of my husband.

It felt like my heart was being ripped apart. These were the people closest to me. I couldn’t even begin to describe my sense of loss. But I had no time to weep, I had to pick myself up, not just for myself, but for Mannan. I had lost everyone, I wasn’t ready to lose him too. I tried everything in my power to help him recover. It was a long journey that stretched up to a year.

He underwent a major operation and went through countless follow-up treatments. His physical recovery was slow, but that was just the first of our battles. I had to fight to get him into a good school, but none of the schools accepted him. They always complained about how difficult he was to handle. I was so desperate to get him a place that I even requested that the schools take me in as his caregiver as I was already a Montessori Director. But all I heard was no, no, no. By this point, I was drained and exhausted from going door to door to schools that gave us nothing but rejection.

Then a friend recommended Special Olympics Pakistan to me. I thought it might be a good idea to get Mannan into sports so he could positively channel his energy. I enrolled him in the Dewa Academy for children with disabilities. There, he joined the Special Olympics Young Athletes program, catered to children aged 2 to 7 to improve their motor and cognitive skills. Within weeks, he was a changed boy. I could not believe the transformation in Mannan. From meek and withdrawn, he became cheerful and outgoing.

I am so grateful to each and everyone who has been part of this journey for Mannan. Not only did sports help him overcome his hyper-activeness, the faculty members and coaches also helped him develop his personality, gave him attention and focused on developing his skills which helped Mannan build his confidence.

All my son needed was love and attention and he got that unconditionally through the Special Olympics movement. For the first time, no one asked me to take him back. He was celebrated for who he was.

As a single mother, things get tough because I have to run this show myself. It takes a village to raise a child, and I’m grateful that my mother, mother-in-law & my sister-in-law offer their support as much as they can. And I am truly thankful for our Special Olympics family, who has embraced us without question.

It’s been a challenge, but life often sets us down paths we never meant to wander down and we have to make the best of the journey. Existing on this planet, fighting this fight, pushing through these painful but sometimes beautiful days is often about being brave, not perfect. And for Mannan and I, courage was our only option.

The post Courage was our only option appeared first on Human RACE.

2. They find opportunities everywhere
Even when Dacki was a student, he took leadership roles in the special school he was studying at. He got involved in community efforts to help alleviate poverty in the Philippines.

3. They stay focused on their goals
Dacki’s love for sports led him to Special Olympics where he went on to win a Gold medal in Badminton and represented his country in the 2007 Special Olympics World Games in Shanghai, China. He even became the captain for his country’s Special Olympics Badminton team.

4. They dream big
Even after securing a job, Dacki feels that one should always keep learning and achieving more hence, he has now applied for a scholarship to a design school and hopes to sharpen his design and photography skills.

5. They refuse to give up
‘If you have a dream, don’t be afraid to go for it. Believe in yourself, follow your heart, and shut out the naysayers. Never let anyone tell you that you’re not good enough.’ – Dacki Sandiego

The post 5 Things Winners Do Differently appeared first on Human RACE.

Rithik is now 23. When he was 12, he was diagnosed with Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD), coupled with lower than normal IQ.

I must admit that the early years were not easy. Growing up, Rithik could not sit still and was easily distracted. It was difficult to take him out to social gatherings as people who didn’t understand his condition would often label him a naughty child. So most of the time, I would stay home with him.

He had multiple learning issues in school, including problems in speech, writing, spelling, and reading. He struggled to copy anything from the board. Often, he was asked to leave the classroom because he was not able to concentrate and would distract other children. We moved from school to school, desperate for a solution, and ended up changing schools at least ten times.

As a child, Rithik was never interested in conventional toys, be it cars, guns or action figures. He used to be fascinated by tools like screwdrivers and utensils. He would come into the kitchen while I was preparing lunch or dinner and play with kitchen utensils.

Once, while we were at a clinic, Rithik ran to a nearby cabinet, took out a screwdriver and removed the head-rest of the chair I was sitting on while I was speaking to the doctor. Fortunately, the doctor was patient and kind and asked him politely if he could put the head-rest back on. To my surprise, he didn’t throw a tantrum and obediently did it.

I’ve always been proud of the fact that Rithik is unique and different. I’ve never tried to hide his condition. In fact, the more I spoke about him to others, the more it helped me find suitable resources for his treatment as people would refer me to relevant contacts. 

I’ve been asked if bringing up Rithik as a single parent is tough. My answer has been consistent – that Rithik has brought nothing but joy to my life. As his only caregiver, he gives me all his attention and love. I have always tried my best to teach him the right values in life because I know that what I say and think mean the world to him.

I’ve had my moments of self-doubt, though.

When Rithik was about nine months old, he rolled over and fell off the bed onto the floor. I was shocked to find that his skin had turned a sickly shade of blue, and his limbs were stiff as if he has suffered some kind of an attack. As I spoke to more doctors over the years, I questioned whether he was born with ADHD and low IQ, or whether his condition was caused by that fall. If I can ever go back in time to change anything in my life, I would choose to go back to that moment in time.

For Rithik’s sake, I know I must not dwell on things beyond my control and keep moving forward. Over the years, I realized that I needed to channel his energy in a constructive and healthy way.

Rithik has always shown a keen interest in sports – cricket in particular. When he was about eight, I enrolled him in a cricket academy. It usually takes a child about two years to learn the basics of cricket. It took Rithik four to five years. But it was worth the wait because sports completely changed his life.

Through the academy, we found out about Special Olympics in India. We have since spent more than ten years with the movement and Rithik has grown so much through the various opportunities open to him. He has represented India in cricket matches around the world, including Australia and Bangladesh, and has won more than 60 medals both nationally and internationally.

Apart from competition opportunities, Rithik has also represented Asia Pacific at global events such as the 2018 Special Olympics Global Athlete Congress in Baku to advocate for people with intellectual disabilities. The exposure – both on and off the sports field – has helped boost his confidence, and made him realize that he can achieve his dreams so long as he puts his mind to it.

Rithik’s cricket coach has observed that he has become more sociable. He used to interact only with his coach, but he has found the courage to speak to others and make new friends at the academy.

Rithik now works as a coach with a non-profit organization in Jaipur, teaching cricket to young children. I’m so proud to see how he has grown to become a mentor to others who respect and look up to him. He is the best son I could ever pray for. I am so thankful and comforted to see how far he has come.

The post The Best Son I Could Wish for appeared first on Human RACE.

My parents heard exactly that from a doctor, when I was three years old, and diagnosed with Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD).

Some years later,  I was also found to have Asperger’s Syndrome.

However, my parents refused to believe the doctor. They treated me like any other child — not a person with any disability. They encouraged me to chase my dreams, while supporting and loving me unconditionally.

And yes, I have dreams, just like everyone.

What we do with our free time is not so different. While I was a student in a special school in Manila, I took on leadership roles and got involved in community efforts to help alleviate poverty in the Philippines.

One of my proudest achievements is helping to lead the formation of a unified basketball team in my school, comprising people with and without disabilities. Seeing our team play together reinforced my belief that people with disabilities are not so different after all.

My desire to live life to the fullest and my love for sports eventually led me to join the Special Olympics Philippines as an athlete in 2006. During the Special Olympics National Games in Pangasinan, I brought home my first Gold medal in badminton. It was an amazing feeling to be part of a national competition  and win. I then went on to represent my country in the 2007 Special Olympics World Games in Shanghai, China.

I even became the Captain of my country’s Special Olympics badminton team, which was beyond my wildest dreams.

I set my sights further. During the 2009 Special Olympics Youth Summit in Idaho, USA, I had the honor of being the first Global Youth Ambassador to represent the Philippines. It was a fantastic experience for me to see youth leaders from all over the world come together with a common purpose: to discuss ideas for inclusion of people with intellectual disabilities. It was also the first time I got to interact and connect with other Global Youth Ambassadors, and it fortified my desire to close the perceived gap between people with intellectual disabilities and those without.

I firmly believe that the best way to show that we are not limited by our disabilities was to lead by example. Beyond participating in sports, I decided that I should also give back to my own community and volunteer with Special Olympics Philippines. I help to organize events, coach budding athletes in badminton, and share my story at public events.

I am also passionate about my job. One year ago, I was delighted to accept a position in the Human Resource department at a global financial firm.

Despite securing a job, I believe that one should never stay stagnant and so, I recently applied for a scholarship program in graphic design at a private academy. I am positive that the program will allow me to hone my design and photography skills.

While I have many dreams about my future, I also believe that a dream remains a dream till one decides to act. I am hopeful that that my story will help to inspire others to step up and promote inclusivity in the community. Every little bit counts, and I am glad to do my part.

What I would like to say is this – If you have a dream, don’t be afraid to go for it. Believe in yourself, follow your heart, and shut out the naysayers. Never let anyone tell you that you’re not good enough.

After all, a doctor said that I might not be able to tie my own shoelaces, but look where I am now.

The post Chase your dreams appeared first on Human RACE.