Olympic Dreams

I am the first to say that I am not much of a television watcher. If you ask me “Have you seen. . .?’ the answer is invariably no. I grew up with a book in my hands at every available moment and, even now, while I may be in the room where the TV is on in the evening, my Kindle is always at my side. In a hotel room when traveling alone, I never turn the television on, in fact I forget that it is there.

But during the Olympics, I am the first one who wants to watch the competitions taking place. I love to see gymnastics and swimming, diving and tennis. Ice skating and ice dining, luge and skiing, all favorites and the list goes on. I find myself invested in the competition, rooting for my favorites, trying to understand what the judges saw (that I didn’t) that resulted in the score achieved.

Over the course of years, I have had the chance to work with a few people who’d been Olympic contenders, some of those people were elders I worked with and others were staff. They had wonderful stories to tell and memories of the Olympics, the training, the incredible camaraderie.

Part of my sense, and understanding, of the Olympics was that the goal was an international exhibition and competition that was rooted in a desire to come together, to compete on a safe battleground of sports, to celebrate the accomplishments of human beings and the human body.

Of course, we know that is not the case. We know about the Nazi era games in 1936 that were used as a tool for propaganda by Hitler. We know about the 1972 Olympic massacre in Munich and many other crises and challenges that have revolved around the Olympic games. Rather than be a tool for peaceful competition and a world coming together to celebrate athletes, the history of the Olympics is pockmarked with boycotts, protests and controversies.

This year, particularly, the games are beginning at a time when the world seems even more unsettled. The terrible situation in Israel post-October 7, the ongoing plight of the hostages, the disruption of the American elections and fears about the future . . . into this world we will attempt to watch rhythm gymnastics and pretend. We are pretending that life is “normal,” that people around the world are not living in fear. We are pretending that antisemitism has not become a scourge on college campuses and an everyday awareness on the part of all Jewish organizations.

Here, in our older adult residential facilities, we will host our own Olympics. We’ll have such challenging events as balloon volleyball and chair dancing. The cheering will be for everyone and the scores will yield what I wish we would see in the world—all winners and no losers. How much better it would be if we could take the lessons of our elders—that peace and kindness are the only way to live, that life must never be taken for granted—and incorporate them into our own lives and see the them reflected in the lives of others.