Recently I was sitting at a fundraising tea party given by the George based Down Syndrome school, Up with Down’s. The glorious thing about this tea party was that it was served to us by all the people with Down Syndrome. They had made all this delicious food themselves!

These warm arms came around my neck as I was given the biggest hug. I looked up into the smiling face of Nikki, a Down Syndrome girl I had met several weeks beforehand, learning to play golf!
“What a warm, wonderful hug!” I laughed at her.
“I like you, Gaynor!”, she said giving me another squeeze before she was off inside to help the others with our tea and coffee.

When I was a child, whenever someone did something stupid, we would say:”Oh man, don’t be so spastic!” Now, being spastic myself, I shudder at our mindlessness. In the same way, we regarded Down Syndrome people as stupid and “retarded”!

How thoughtless we were and how little we knew. One of my boxes that has recently been redefined has been: People with Down Syndrome.

Would you believe that our current government has withdrawn all funding for special needs education! I find this unbelievable. They expect Down Syndrome students to attend mainstream schools! But then seeing as how our government treats education as a whole, I shouldn’t be surprised. Overseas in Europe and America, they are enlightened regarding the education and development of Down Syndrome children. South Africa is a different story altogether. Among a large percentage of our society, the mentality is that if you are not normal, you are not acceptable! You should be ignored, forgotten about and even locked away in an institution.

Up with Down’s began when a few parents saw that their Down Syndrome children were falling into an educational abyss. They decided to get together to teach their children. Their dream simply took off! Up with Down’s school was born! Realising there were other children with special needs, their school was opened to them as well.

Up with Down’s now offers boarding facilities. It is so wonderful walking the corridors, seeing people laugh and chatter to one another. I was shown a girl’s room. I was astounded at it’s neatness. Clean, tidy, everything absolutely in it’s place. The image of her slippers placed so perfectly together under her windowsill will remain etched in my memory for a long time.

I think the reason that room was so spotless, was that it was all about control. That girl had order stamped over her bedroom, a little world she recognised as hers. Outside that room, outside Up with Down’s chaos and disharmony feature. The wider world can often be a frightening and bewildering place.

Up with Down’s have acquired a piece of land opposite the school on which they plan to build a permanent home for adults with Down Syndrome. The challenge now is to raise three million rand necessary  for the development.
I know where my charity money is going!

I was totally gobsmacked to discover that a woman with Down Syndrome received a degree. She took longer than most to achieve it but she finally qualified at Bloemfontein University. Isn’t that simply mind blowing? That is where I have had to reconsider my box. I have recently learned to never put a roof over Down Syndrome people’s heads.

At that tea party, I spoke to Jan, Nikki’s mother. She counts her daughter a blessing.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way. She sees differently. She sees things that I don’t. She has taught me so much about life.”
Nikki recently remarked to her mother: “Decide to be happy. And then – be happy!”
I love that wisdom!

The author, Yvonne Pierre says in her memoir, The Day My Soul Cried:
“Often people ask, ‘How can you say you’re blessed to have a son with Down Syndrome?’
My outlook on life has forever changed. I see my own challenges differently. He’s always showing me that life is so much bigger than self.”

The eyes of people with Down Syndrome are different to normal eyes. “One only has to take the time to gaze” says L.L. Barkat, “and the beauty shocks!” Metaphorically she looks at the eyes with which they see the world.

I find this poem  by Kazia who has Down Syndrome strangely beautiful.

The Dream of Kasia

I am lonely
Why are you staring at the computer screen, not me?
Where do you dream?

Tomorrow I will make an experiment.
God will do confessions.
Will He have time to talk? Can one can come to Him and talk seriously?
Where do you dream?

Do you die in your clothes?
There are small rooms in Heaven, beds, two rooms and two beds.
Why did God create the world?
Where do you dream?

I would like to know when is the end of the world. Is it on Saturday,
Tuesday or maybe Wednesday?
When Liniewski calls tell him that I am cheating on him.
Bury me in Powazki and cover me with soil, like you covered Father!
Where do you dream?

— from the words of Kasia Puciata

Apart from the tea and cakes, at Up with Down’s, I was given so much. So incredibly much.
I will be visiting them again.

And again.

*** If you would like to make a donation to Up with Down – George please press here  ***

*** Photos by courtesy of Up with Downs and Laura Kilgus @ www.9tenphoto ***

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“Golf is said to be a very challenging game. The player has to hit a very small ball, into a very small hole with equipment ill designed for the purpose.”

I swung the club and connected.
The golf ball sailed high into the air, reached it’s peak, and began to drop. I looked after it with satisfaction. I placed another ball on the tee, did the golfer’s little “bum” shuffle, drew back my club and launched another on it’s way.
Before my accident, I loved going to the driving range. When I was out of work, highly frustrated and often depressed, that arching golf ball would carry a portion of my burdens with it.
After my accident, I accompanied friends while they played golf. George Golf Course has got to be one of South Africa’s most glorious courses. Tall trees, small hillocks, a green undulating field encompassed by those incredibly statuesque mountains. They played their final hole and made their way towards the clubhouse. I waited until they had moved out of sight and I turned to my close friend.
“Do you think I could borrow your golf club? I want to see if I’m still able to hit a golf ball.”
I clutched the golf club in my hands. It felt strange, large and unwieldy. I looked at the golf ball all the way down there. It all felt totally different to what I remembered. There seemed to be no connection between the ball, club and myself. I remembered my golf swing being smooth and fluid. I swung at the golf ball. And missed. I took a deep breath and tried again. Once again, I failed to connect with the ball. There was nothing smooth and fluid about my movement now. This disjointed, clumsy feeling made me realise that Gaynor and her days with a golf club were over.
My days of golf are far from finished though. I have friends that are passionate about golf, and so, like it or not, it still features prominently in my life. Last Saturday, it was the South Cape Women’s Golf Championship. The top amateur players in the country were there. Jan and I meandered our way over the course, picked a hole and sat down to watch. It was a bit like sitting at a waterhole in a game reserve. One marvelled at the variety, the skill, the plumage, and the sheer mastery of the various individuals that crossed our path.
At lunch we bumped into Val Holland, the South African women’s golf coach. On being introduced, she burst out with: “Gaynor, I read your book, how utterly absorbing it was. It was one of the best autobiographies I’ve read.”
How could I not fail to like her instantly!
She has been the South African ladies coach since 2005. On Wednesday we discovered that she was giving a class for Downs Syndrome children. I was intrigued so we joined her at Kingswood Golf Estate where she now teaches.
We arrived and the class had already begun. No mind was paid to to these two staring strangers. The children were utterly involved in what they were doing. Val had them hitting tennis balls towards their own little targets. The concentration was precise and intense. One girl seemed to speak gently to herself while she set herself up for her shot. Hitting the ball, she would watch it weave it’s way across the grass. She would then mutter as she took aim with her next tennis ball. And the next. Finishing her four balls, she would look up and smile at Val. Then collecting the balls, the whole process would begin again.
Val, also had them throwing balls at this big, round board that she held. If the balls hit the board they would stick there. This was to improve their sense of direction. What hoots and cheers of delight followed the tennis balls clinging onto the board!
What was it about that class that so took my breathe away?
I think perhaps it was the joy shining out from their faces when they succeeded in conquering a very simple goal. The children derived untold pleasure from the incredibly simple fact that they were “learning to play golf!” Val gave them the opportunity to feel that they were achieving something.
I look at Val with such admiration. She has reached the pinnacle of success being the South African Women’s golf coach. This woman also chooses to teach those with Downs Syndrome. And she puts equal effort into both pursuits. I was delighted to discover that her greatest goal right now would be to get a player from the Ups with Downs school to become a golfer who can possibly participate in disabled championships.
I think of my pre-plunge golfing days.
I think of the unbelievable artistry we encountered at the South Cape Golf Championship.
I think of the innocent joy I was shown by the Down’s golfers.
Isn’t golf a wonderful thing?

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