GRAND RAPIDS, Mich. — Save for scores of mops and cleaning supplies dotting empty rooms, the former South Christian High School building is nearly desolate. Monochromatic hallways seem to stretch for miles, slithering through rows of lockers before dropping off into a distant darkness.
The former cacophony of young voices has been replaced by adult dialogue, spilling out of a front office. Now, the talk is about a visionary Special Olympics training center.
Special Olympics Michigan bought the former school with the goal of transforming its campus into a flagship training and resource facility for Special Olympians and their families.
“It will be a few years until it really transforms from a school into a full Special Olympics Michigan Center,” said Tim Hileman, the chief executive officer of Special Olympics Michigan.
As he outlines his plans, Hileman sits on a bench inside the school, located in Byron Township. To his left is a glass showcase, containing photos, newspaper clippings, and letters documenting the organization’s 50 years in action. The display is, for now, perhaps the only indication of the building’s new ownership.
The transformation
Hileman and his team have launched a full-fledged, re-purposing project for the structure: classrooms into offices, gymnasiums into stadiums, and auditoriums into arenas for medal ceremonies — all places where families and coaches will celebrate Michigan’s 20,000 Special Olympics athletes.
Once complete, the Michigan Unified Sports & Inclusion Center will be the largest Special Olympics facility in the world.
“One of the great things about the facility is it's got two gymnasiums, acres of sports fields, an auditorium ... all of that is key,” Hileman said. “We actually have some of our athletes starting to practice.”
Hileman’s vision, however, transcends a mere training hub. Surveying a building on the precipice of change, he evokes a grandiose image for the center, one that sees a continuous stream of athletes, volunteers, and families, intermingling in the welcome center at the red-and-white branded entrance way.
He sees teams gathering after major competitions, coordinating carpools to the post-game pizza party.
He sees students perusing various rooms within the facility, each of which house a different nonprofit dedicated to serving people with disabilities.
He sees athletes meeting with career coaches, opening doors of opportunity, channeling untapped potential, and constructing a once unfathomable vision for their futures — all before heading down the hall to the gym for practice.
Ultimately, Hileman said, he sees this place as a cornerstone for a cultural revolution.
“This is going to be something that is the future for Special Olympics throughout the world,” he said.
Returning home
Special Olympian Julian Borst, 23, spent the first nine years of his life playing in the shadow of South Christian High School. His grandmother’s backyard adjoins the school's athletic fields, fields that will now house thousands of Special Olympics athletes, including Julian.
Borst was born with sensory processing disorder, a condition that affects the brain's ability to process information and stimuli through the senses. While this might make other aspects of life difficult for Julian, distance running has come quite naturally.
Julian's grandmother "passed before he started running, but I can just hear her being absolutely delighted with his development and very proud of Julian being an athlete there,” said Julian's mom, Ruth Prins Borst.
The school was an integral part of both Julian's and his dad John Borst’s childhood, Ruth Borst said. The school awakens a sense of familiarity for John Borst, as he recalls the walk from his house, across the field to the neighboring elementary school where his dad served as principal.
“After I got done with the elementary school and junior high, all I had to do was walk across my backyard and there was my school,” John Borst said.
Decades of time have since transformed the small farm town that John Borst once knew into a suburban community kissing the edge of Grand Rapids. Nonetheless, it seems fitting to both John and Ruth Borst that their son will now compete in the very same place his family calls home.
“I started running when I was 10 years old with my mom,” Julian said. “I started on the bike, and then I got too fast to run with" my mom.
Soon enough, Julian was too fast to run with just about everybody. He was already an illustrious athlete by the time he joined Special Olympics three years ago. Ruth Borst describes the program as a turnaround for her son. It filled the void of uncertainty as high school track came to a close.
After joining Special Olympics, Julian Borst eventually earned a spot at the National Games in Seattle, Washington.
“And what did you win there?” John Borst asked, prodding his son as a few tears escaped his eyes.
“I won three gold medals,” Julian said, smiling.
His talents also took him to Boston, where he competed in one of the world's oldest marathons. Julian Borst said he began to get tired around Mile 22.
Providing community
Regardless of his accomplishments, Special Olympics for Julian Borst isn’t just about running. He said it's provided him with a sense of belonging, identity, and connection.
“Running for Special Olympics is inclusion, it gives me community and friends, and it’s good transportation,” he said.
That’s the goal of the 50-year-old organization: community. Special Olympics distinguishes itself on broadening opportunities for the more than 200 million individuals with physical and intellectual disabilities around the world. The organization reaches athletes in 172 countries and hosts more than 100,000 competitions a year.
Eunice Kennedy Shriver, sister of former U.S. President John F. Kennedy, pioneered the program in 1968 as a day camp for children in her home of Potomac, Maryland.
Her simple mission of athletic integration laid the groundwork for a slew of cultural and political victories.
In 1987, South Bend, Indiana, hosted the first International Summer Games to be broadcast on a major television network. Shriver’s speech at the opening ceremonies echoed around the globe:
“Tonight, in this great stadium, a new legend is born," she said. "You athletes are the heroes of that legend.”
Only 12 years before those games, children with disabilities for the first time enjoyed the basic right to public education. Years later in 1990, a group of activists stormed the U.S. Capitol building, ditching their wheelchairs and walkers before crawling up the famous steps in a moment that came to symbolize the passage of the Americans with Disabilities Act. The federal law effectively ended disability discrimination in the workplace and all other areas of life.
Despite such progress, employment statistics for people with disabilities remain staggeringly low, according to the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics.
The U.S. Interagency Council on Homelessness reports that people with disabilities make up close to 30 percent of the country's homeless population.
While amendments to America's Affordable Care Act have have mitigated disparities in health care, people with disabilities still face significant barriers and are in some countries denied coverage.
Bias persists
Underlying these numbers, a rigid framework of stereotypes and bias persists. Those who work with Special Olympians said the biases are a byproduct of years and years of systemic undermining, and it’s perhaps the most difficult form of prejudice for a culture to overcome.
“I think there’s also a lot of progress that’s been made, but there could be more in terms of people’s understanding,” Ruth Borst said. “It’s not always obvious by looking at somebody. There can still be judgement about behaviors being willful or from bad parenting.”
Ruth and John Borst praised the camaraderie and structure that Special Olympics provides their son.
“We've always been impressed with how Julian empathizes with his fellow athletes. They seem to grow very quickly to care about each other ... and look forward to being together,” John Borst said.
But for John, sports and teamwork are just the beginning.
Human identity is not merely a product of socialization, but rather the coexistence of connection and individuality harmonizing one soul. For true fulfillment, you have to satisfy both traits.
"The disabled population is not any different than the regular population in that sense that each of them is extremely individualized, including in the nature of the disabilities," John Borst said.
Through its incorporation of other nonprofits offering a variety of services, John Borst said he hopes this new Special Olympics building will serve all dimensions of the individual.
“I think that it is wonderful that [Special Olympics] is thinking about creating that kind of umbrella and not just being super hyper focused on the image of athletics," he said.
'It was unbelievable'
Prior to purchasing the the former South Christian High School, managers of Michigan’s Special Olympics brought a group of their athletes into the building. Looking out into the empty space, they told them, “congratulations, this could be your home.”
“It was unbelievable, the athlete’s eyes were huge and smiling,” Hileman said, “and then looking behind them and seeing some of the parents and coaches with tears in their eyes ... because they see that vision.”
Special Olympics Michigan has rented the majority of the building’s classrooms to various nonprofit groups, including Autism Support out of Kent County and a local community living group.
Hileman said the benefits of this unique partnership are twofold: Special Olympics Michigan can ensure its new building is financially self-sustaining, and, on a deeper level, the organization can revolutionize the meaning of inclusion by carving out a holistic space in society for people with disabilities.
“So many times, our athletes and individuals with disabilities in general are kind of marginalized, put off to the side by society,” Hileman said. “All of those coaches and all of those volunteers, staff and athletes saw that when we walked in. They said no ... no more, this is going to be where we’re No. 1 in our place.”
For now, just a handful of people trickle in and out of the building’s front office each day. Volunteers clean rooms, meet with architects, and perfect the plan for what could soon become a historic milestone in Special Olympics history.
In the interregnum between abandoned school and social movement, a vision is taking flight.
Follow Alyssa Hurlbut on Twitter or contact her at alhurlbut@sbgtv.com.
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