Pop Culture

Reconciliation Games

The Canberra Times, 2 November 2000

What does Cathy Freeman have in common with Neil Armstrong? Like the moon landing, all Australians who were old enough will remember where they were when Freeman won her Olympic gold medal. Sure, it was just over a month ago, but I'll bet that, even in 20 years time, we'll all remember.

Much weight was placed on Freeman's win. People throughout Australia, whatever their colour or politics, were all cheering for a woman who had been outspoken in her pride of her Aboriginality. Even the Prime Minister was there, at Olympic Park, to applaud a descendent of the "stolen generation" he tries to ignore. It was, we all thought, a major step towards reconciliation.

Sadly, for the meantime, the Government seems to have blown its chance. The PM has used the Games to trivialise everything, suggesting that the country doesn't have any problems. Outmoded flag? Gee, everyone cheered it during the Olympics. Anti-migrant hostility? Of course not. We embraced Tatiana and Jelena into our family. Aboriginal-white tensions? Nonsense! Everyone loves Cathy, don't they?

But despite all the PM's best efforts, Sydney 2000 might still be remembered as the Reconciliation Games. Not that it had much to with Freeman's 400-metre run, inspiring though it was, or even the Olympics proper. I'm talking about the OTHER "best Games ever".

The Paralympic Games had given us few superstars. Before Sydney, we had Louise Sauvage, which is one more than most nations. Even the U.S., which usually wins the medal tally, does not accord their Paralympians celebrity status. It is a sad truth that these Games are not as popular as the Olympics, and two reasons come to mind.

Firstly, we look up to Olympians the same way that kids look up to comic-book heroes. They even have skin-tight suits, superhuman abilities, and crimefighting names like Superfish and Thorpedo. Disabled athletes, however, can hardly be considered superhuman. (Sauvage is an exception. She can't walk, but with an athletic record like hers, walking's for losers.)

OK, but then there's the OTHER reason why Paralympians are so underrated. Whatever you have just read, we love the Olympians because they ARE normal people. The Thorpedo's secret identity is the likeable, mild-mannered young Ian Thorpe. Paralympians, we tend to think, could never be this normal.

This is a peculiar idea, as most interviews with high-profile Paralympians will show that they are as normal as any elite athlete. Which means: they're crazy, but that's OK. (Consider Canadian athlete Chantelle Petticlerc's admission that she dreams of Sauvage, her great rival, more than she dreams of her boyfriend. Spoken like a true champion!)

Many people were dismissive of the Paralympics, saying that it didn't compare to the Olympics. "None of them can run 100 metres in under 10 seconds, that's for sure," said one friend. Well no, but neither can Marion Jones. Besides, many elite athletes would love to run as fast on two good legs as Neil Fuller runs on one.

Another friend even said (get this) that wheelchair athletes can't be taken seriously, because they have no choice but to use wheelchairs. (Did you get that?) The lamer the excuses, more apparent is the sad truth: people still feel uncomfortable about disabled people.

Surprising? Not really. If we saw sprinter Lisa McIntosh a few weeks ago, her arm twisted and voice slurred by cerebral palsy, we might have tried to avoid her. Watching her win any of her three gold medals, however, we were proud to be from the same country. And perhaps a little educated.

Then there are the intellectually disabled. We like to make fun of them. But no Olympic gold story -- not Michael Diamond's tears to his father, nor even the tragedies suffered by our men's madison cycling team -- was quite as heart-rending as Siobhan Paton's. After years of being tormented and called a "retard", she wins six gold medals and is put up as a female answer to Australia's most popular guy, the Thorpedo. (She doesn't have a silly nickname yet, but we'll think of something.) And as she proves in interviews, her disability does not make her "dumb". (George W Bush is dumb. Paton is intellectually disabled.) Perhaps Paton, more than Freeman, is the face of reconciliation at Sydney 2000.

Why? Because, buoyed with local Olympic spirit, we suddenly cared. Over the space of the last fortnight, the world's second-largest sports event has suddenly brought us superstars galore. These people are as normal as any Olympian, and people like Paton, Sauvage and McIntosh are as superhuman as the best ones.

But while I was happy that Australia won the medals tally, I was actually disappointed by our dominance. Here was one of those rare occasions when the world should take Australia's lead.