Paris Olympics 2024 – An Epiphany

Here I was, a passionate freelance art critic, cyclist, and avid Olympic enthusiast, thrilled to be at the Paris Olympics 2024, watching the cycling road races near the Eiffel Tower. The atmosphere was electric; the crowd was jubilant, and I felt truly alive. Endorphins surged, conversations flowed effortlessly, and the air buzzed with camaraderie. It was hard to believe I had come this far after such a long journey.

In 1984, back in Ludwigsburg, Germany, I watched the Los Angeles Olympics on television, mesmerized by the grand pianos featured in the opening ceremony. The performance of George Gershwin’s Rhapsody in Blue—with its haunting and beloved melody—left a lasting impression on me. The elegance of the dancers and the overall grandeur of the event were unforgettable. Little did I know that years later, I would live in Los Angeles for nearly 25 years, cycle throughout the city, move to China, and write about the Beijing Olympics—though not from China, but from London, where I watched the closing ceremony from Trafalgar Square. Now, 16 years later, sheer chance had brought me to Paris earlier than I had intended. Although I live in France, I had hoped to spend the summer closer to the sea or ocean, but fate guided me here for the Games.

However, amidst the jubilation, something suddenly hit me. As I scanned the sea of faces, it became painfully clear: no one in this crowd resembled my late brother, Jens, who had once ridden a bicycle with training wheels but later had to use a wheelchair due to severe intellectual disabilities and epilepsy, each condition worsening the other. While the world reveled in the grandeur of the Games, I felt an acute sense of detachment. The celebration was for many—’abled’ athletes, tourists, journalists, and attendees—but not for people like Jens.

The Pain of Exclusion

Walking through the vibrant streets, passing bustling restaurants and cafés, I saw families of all backgrounds enjoying the festivities. One scene that particularly stood out was a young African boy gazing at his reflection in a restaurant mirror, studying himself with innocent curiosity. Another memorable moment was when a little Chinese boy ran in front of the Eiffel Tower, doves soaring above him.

Please don’t misunderstand me. This aligns with my ideal, a world that welcomes anyone, it just contrasted with my own reality. Even if my family, including Jens, had been with me in Paris, I couldn’t shake the thought that we might not have been as warmly welcomed in such a restaurant. If we had managed to get a table, there’s a possibility that other guests might have chosen to leave or move to another table upon seeing us. If we had walked in front of the Eiffel Tower, people might have stared and kept their distance, just as they did back in Ludwigsburg. My brother’s visible and behavioral differences due to his disabilities might have made others uncomfortable. This is a difficult truth to confront, but it’s important to face it directly rather than gloss over it.

Amidst the grandeur and celebration of the Olympic Games, I felt a profound sense of hypocrisy in the much-touted inclusivity of the event. Surrounded by millions, I observed a powerful unity among the ‘abled’ community—of which I am a part, but Jens wasn’t. This created a feeling of being caught between two worlds, not fully belonging to either. It was a painful reminder of the dissonance between the ideal of inclusivity and the reality experienced by those like my brother and their families.

Many may not fully grasp the extent of exclusion experienced by individuals with disabilities, particularly those with intellectual disabilities. Although significant milestones have been achieved since 1945—such as the Special Olympics World Games held in Berlin last year, founded by Eunice Kennedy Shriver in response to the exclusion and marginalization of her sister, Rosemary Kennedy, who had an intellectual disability—these events do not fully address the ongoing challenges and discrimination faced by people with intellectual disabilities.

I deeply appreciate the efforts of the Kennedy family in creating the Special Olympics and commend their dedication though. However, from my perspective, these initiatives sometimes feel half-hearted, as they often still segregate rather than fully integrate individuals with intellectual disabilities into the broader community. For instance, why weren’t the Special Olympics also held in Paris, alongside the Paralympics and Olympics?

It’s the city of love, not just romantic love, Liberté, Égalité, Fraternité” (Liberty, Equality, Fraternity).

One might question whether the timing of the 2023 Special Olympics in Berlin was rather influenced by political motives, potentially designed to emphasize Germany’s democratic values and strategically enhance the country’s bid for the 2036 Paralympics and Olympics. As noted by Deutsche Welle in a June 2023 article, “Germany hopes the success of the 2023 Special Olympics leaves a lasting impact and boosts the country’s chances of potentially hosting the 2036 Olympics and Paralympics.” This raises a critical question: Are these initiatives genuinely aimed at fostering inclusivity, or are they serving more strategic, self-interested purposes?

https://www.dw.com/en/special-olympics-berlin-some-330000-people-attend/a-66026827

As I walked through the vibrant streets of Paris, the contrast between the ideal of inclusivity and the reality of exclusion became all too obvious. The unity celebrated at the Olympic Games was a unity that my brother Jens, with his intellectual disabilities, could never fully experience. This realization reignited my profound sense of purpose—to seek justice for those who have been marginalized, excluded, and treated less than others.

Despite the considerable progress made through initiatives such as the Special Olympics, a significant gap remains in the genuine integration of individuals with intellectual disabilities into the broader Olympic community. The continued separation of the Olympics, Paralympics, Special Olympics, and Deaflympics—along with the prioritization of the Olympic Games over the Paralympics, which are showcased first with larger audiences and more media coverage—appears to undermine the very essence of Pierre de Coubertin’s ideal of “Sports for All People.” This structure seems at odds with the spirit of unity and inclusivity that the Games aim to uphold.

A Vision

The huge contrast between the ideal of inclusivity and the reality of exclusion at the Olympics compelled me to take action. For two weeks, I devoted my efforts to making the Invisible visible by developing a discussion paper—Olympic Pour Tous. This paper aims to spark dialogue and inspire the creation of a new Olympic Charter that dismantles hierarchies, addresses unconscious ableism, and paves the way for a more inclusive and unified future for the Games and beyond.

I hope it fosters meaningful dialogue, raises even more awareness, and drives genuine progress toward a truly inclusive Olympic spirit. So long!

From the Women’s Cycling Road Race during the Paris Olympics 2024. Photo: Simone Suzanne Kussatz / ARETE

From the Women’s Cycling Road Race Competition in front of the Musée d’Orsay Photo: ARETE / Simone Suzanne Kussatz

Another photo of the Women’s Cycling Road Race during the Paris Olympics 2024. Photo: Simone Suzanne Kussatz / ARETE

The TV-camera used for the Women’s Cycling Road Race during the Paris Olympics 2024. Photo: Simone Suzanne Kussatz / ARETE

Women’s Cycling Road Race displayed on a screen in front of the Eiffel Tower. Photo: Simone Suzanne Kussatz / ARETE

My brother Jens on a bicycle with training wheels in the 1970s in Germany.
Photo; ARETE