I should probably start by admitting that I keep calling this the Penguin Plunge. That’s what it’s called where I grew up in Vermont, and after years of hearing that name, apparently my brain refuses to rebrand. So in the lake of polar bears, look for me... the penguin 

Special Olympics has been part of my family for as long as I can remember. I grew up with siblings with special needs who participated in Special Olympics, and my dad, Peter Booth, spent nearly two decades getting students involved through Unified Sports and Vermont’s Penguin Plunge. Under his leadership, our high school community collectively raised more than $400,000 for Special Olympics Vermont, and he even coached Vermont’s Unified Basketball Team to a gold medal at the 2018 Special Olympics USA Games.

But the numbers aren't really why this matters so much to me.

When I was 15, I entered foster care. Peter had actually been my math teacher, and what was supposed to be a temporary two-week placement with him and his wife, Amy, eventually became my family. I got a firsthand lesson pretty early in life that being welcomed somewhere is one thing, but truly feeling like you belong there can change the trajectory of your life.

That’s a huge part of why Special Olympics has always felt so powerful to me. I grew up watching my siblings find friendship, confidence and opportunities through it. I watched my dad create spaces where students of all abilities weren't simply included, but became teammates, competitors, friends, and sometimes the people an entire gym was cheering for.

My dad has spent his life making room for people and showing them that they belong. I'm lucky enough to be one of those people.

Chicago is now home, so taking the plunge here feels like a pretty incredible way to carry a little piece of my family’s Vermont tradition into this next chapter of my life.

Unfortunately, that tradition involves voluntarily jumping into Lake Michigan in March.

My dad did it for years despite absolutely hating the cold water, so I really have no excuse. Please donate generously. I’m going to need the moral support.