Passing of the Torch

Canada is losing too many of its bright lights—individuals who have led the way for those of us striving toward a level playing field for citizens with disabilities. The sad paradox is that the population of people with disabilities is dramatically increasing, while some of our strongest leaders are no longer with us. The need for a new generation of champions is becoming very clear.

In recent memory, the disability community has lost Bill Cameron, founder of the Neil Squire Society; Henry Enns, founder and CEO of the Canadian Centre on Disability Studies; Al Simpson, executive director of the Winnipeg Independent Living Resource Centre; and Karen Gledhill, president of the Canadian Association for Community Living—and there have been many others.

There is not the space to do justice to the accomplishments and impact that they had. They were pioneers in the truest sense of the word. Each, in his or her own way, shared an understanding of advocacy, research, education and awareness. Each, in his or her own way, made a huge difference to the lot of citizens with disabilities.

Sadly, this past May, another such champion passed away—although the impact of his example will certainly be a lasting legacy. Gary McPherson stood out as a mentor, entrepreneur, disability activist, academic, coach, administrator, instructor, husband and parent…and the list goes on.

He was a great supporter of the Canadian Abilities Foundation (CAF). In 1998, while head of the Canadian Wheelchair Sports Association (CWSA), he forged a relationship with the then fledgling Abilities magazine, wherein Abilities carried CWSA news. This initial partnership provided us with the support that we needed to publish the third issue of the magazine. In a very real sense, Gary saved Abilities from closing down when we had barely begun. His help enabled us to go on to produce the many issues that we have over the past 22 years.

This was the prototype for the many win-win situations that CAF would undertake with various organizations over the years. And the rapport continued with Gary. In fact, only weeks before cancer took his life, he and I were in discussion about how he might take a role in strengthening Abilities’ distribution and editorial in his home province of Alberta.

I think it’s fitting to pay homage to Gary, now, in Abilities. Not everybody was privy to the story of his life and to the inventory of his many accomplishments. His modesty prevented that. But here is a thumbnail account of a life lived well…

In 1955, when he was a young child, Gary was struck by polio. As a result, he was hospitalized and forced to spend his days in an iron lung. He was not expected to live but, true to form, Gary did more than survive—he set the circumstances in motion to thrive! Gary, through the incredible tenacity and strength of will that epitomized the man throughout his life, escaped the iron lung and transferred himself to a ventilator to breathe. He eventually perfected a technique known as “frog breathing,” which allowed him to go through his waking hours free from the ventilator.

Gary developed a love for sports in those early years and, together with wheelchair basketball coach Bob Steadward, helped transform wheelchair sport into an international phenomenon— the Paralympics. Among other athletic accomplishments, he became manager of Alberta’s Northern Lights wheelchair basketball team.

In 1971, Gary dropped by the office of soon-to-be Albertan Premier Don Getty. By the time he left, he was Getty’s office manager. Eventually, Gary was appointed chair of the Premier’s Council on the Status of Persons with Disabilities. He went on to become an adjunct professor in the school of physical activity at the University of Alberta. Ultimately, Gary became executive director of the Canadian Centre for Social Entrepreneurship in the School of Business at the University of Alberta. He also received the Order of Canada.

While he undertook his work with a great deal of passion and effort, he cultivated his family life in much the same way. In 1998, Gary married Valerie Kamitomo. They bought a home and, after 34 years of institutional living, Gary moved into the community. Their two children, Keiko and Jamie, soon joined them. Although I have not had the pleasure of personally meeting them, I understand that they, along with Valerie, can be credited for much of the twinkle in Gary’s eyes. In 2000, Gary published an autobiography, aptly titled With Every Breath I Take. For many, this book serves as an instruction manual for living a satisfying and vital life.

Gary McPherson, kindred spirit and inspiration to so many, has slipped from the visible landscape. He will long be remembered and loved by all those whose lives were touched by his. It strikes me as being somehow strange that there are many people who will never have the chance to meet Gary— but I am also struck by the fact that, even so, many of their lives will be impacted by the way in which Gary lived his; by the positive changes that he contributed.

Gary was more than a mentor, an activist and a pioneer. He stood, and still stands, as a symbol of what is possible—of how we need not accept the hand dealt us but can have the fortitude and courage to cast away those cards in order to play a higher game.

The best way to show our respect and appreciation for Gary—and all of the difference makers who came before us—is to continue in their footsteps and push forward as they would have done. Take up the challenge. We cannot be passive in the face of injustice, inequity and discrimination. We must make our voices heard.