Dan,
Was really nice to talk with you the other day. I spent some time reading your website-you have done a fantastic job with your organization!!!!!!! Soeren would be honored if your post his speech. Wanted to send you a new one he wrote for a presentation he gave last week (Jan 2008) in Miami for the International Best Buddies Conference- an organization started by the Shriver family (Kennedy) and matches up typical kids and adults with junior high and older special needs individuals for fun, social time and activities. It is a neat organization and they flew Soeren to Miami to give their keynote speech for their conference. He used part of his original speech with some new perspectives that I'm sure you would appreciate. Let me know what you think- it is a tear jerker for us who understand.
Sincerely,
Kristen Palumbo

This is the last portion of Soeren’s powerful and insightful speech. . . .

. . . I do this because she will always love everyone unconditionally. I do this because she will never hate. I do this because she and every other member of the intellectually disabled community deserves a tomorrow better than the yesterday our fathers gave then, a tomorrow better than the today that we give now.

     Since I gave that speech last year, my life has been a whirlwind. There were a number of news pieces done on the speech and soon I was being asked to give more. I was asked to speak before the Illinois State Senate where I read an abridged version of my original speech. It was received with a standing ovation and a resolution was soon passed as a formal sign of the state senate’s support of my cause. I was asked to speak on behalf of Special Olympics at the National Association of Student Councils annual conference and then serve as Special Olympics’s Global Youth Leader and lead an international youth forum during the Special Olympics World Summer Games in Shanghai last October.

     All of these opportunities were born of a simple act of love from a big brother to a little sister. I just didn’t want the kids in my community to use the word retard anymore; I didn’t want her to grow up in the kind of community when I left for college. The "Campaign to ban the ‘R Word’" is now an international endeavor. Throughout the odyssey that has unfolded, I have been guided by a single principle: The strong fight so that the weak may be strengthened. The strong fight so that the weak may be strengthened. I don’t know where I picked up this maxim but I know it sounds too good to say I came up with it. And that kept me focused. I, the strong, was fighting for the benefit of the weak like my sister may be eventually strengthened; strengthened by an accepting and welcoming society, strengthened by the advent of new opportunities, strengthened by love. It was a good attitude.

     I realized how wrong it was while I was home for Christmas. I sat across the breakfast table from Olivia and watched her eat for a moment. She slowly brought the spoon to her mouth, her small hand rigid in concentration as she balanced the small pile of cheerios on their upward path. Her gaze narrowed and intensified as the spoon got closer. I realized right then that my little sister expends more mental effort in the eating of a bowl of cereal than I do in an entire day of class. My little sister overcomes greater odds in the preparation for a day of school than I have in all my years of school. I realized that she wasn’t the weak needed to be strengthened. She was the strong.

     The realizations came on in waves. My sister had brain surgery three years ago. She had her skull opened and part of her brain removed. I broke a finger once. My sister has had seizures so severe that she literally stared death in the face until it blinked. I had strep throat once. My sister has taken so much medication in her short life that her two front teeth bear the light brown scars. I was put on Tylenol with codeine after I had my wisdom teeth removed.

     I sat there at the breakfast table and wondered "what have I done?" I’ve gotten a couple of grades, I’ve swam a couple of laps, I’ve written a couple of words. Each day, my sister prepares to go to a school filled with students who don’t accept her. Each day, my sister ventures into a society that wants only to shun her. Each day, my sister shouts a lesson loud and clear that all too often falls on ears that aren’t listening and wouldn’t want to hear it if they were.

     Each day, my sister fights one more battle in a lifelong war to maintain her place in society. Each day, each and every member of the intellectually disabled community fights one more battle in a lifelong war to maintain their place in society. The rest of us should begin to listen to the lessons they shout so that we may be strengthened by their fight. They are the strong. They are on the front lines; why do the rest of us wait on the side lines?

     Why do we content ourselves with our personal positive attitude while society and its discrimination march on unabated? How many of us are willing to be the impetus of change? How many of us are willing to be not only a model but a proactive force in bringing about the acceptance and love that the intellectually disabled community deserves? How many of us are willing to join in the uphill battle that the intellectually disabled community is fighting rather than contenting ourselves with cheering from a safe distance? My sister has been fighting for 13 years so that I may be strengthened. It’s time that I began to repay that debt. How many debts do you have to repay?

     But why should we participate in this struggle? Why should you join in this conflict? Unfortunately, I can’t answer that question for you. All I can do is offer my own experience. I do it because I love my little sister. I love the hug of unconditional love I get when I come home. I love working on our secret handshake. So far we’ve got the high five, fist pound, forearm bump and elbow tap combination down. We’re trying to add the hip bump though it’s been a little shaky. Not to brag, but when asked, "where do the dogs go," Olivia will promptly respond "to the pound" and give a fist pound. It’s a work in progress, but we enjoy it.

     I love hearing her excitement when she tells and retells her daily experience in gym class. I love seeing her eyes light up when she blows that perfect bubble. She is my inspiration; she is my hero; she is my champion.

     I love her more than anything in the world and will do anything to ensure a better world for her to live in. I will be speaking on her behalf until the last breath leaves my body; I only hope that my audiences may be as gracious as you have been. Thank you very much.

     I love you Olivia.