Last year, I had the privilege of attending the biennial Friendship Circle gala. I’d long heard about the worldwide organization that supports individuals with special needs and their families. On a basic level, they do incredible work: they send volunteers to play and spend time with individuals with special needs, giving heroic parents a well-earned break, hosting joy-filled events, and building a supportive community where everyone belongs.
I was invited to the gala by my dear friend Rabbi Levi Shemtov, who, together with his wife Bassie, founded Friendship Circle in 1994 in Detroit, Michigan. I always knew that Friendship Circle was more than just a “hug fest,” although that love and thoughtfulness are essential parts of the magic. But what I witnessed there blew me away. I realized that Friendship Circle was, in fact, a revolution in how we understand human value.
Let’s be honest: when most people see someone with special needs, they may feel sympathetic, maybe inspired, but generally, their expectations are low. People acknowledge that everyone has a place in society, but do we truly believe that people with special needs have something meaningful to contribute?
Sure, people will gush over an art project or applaud a musical performance, but deep down, many still see these gestures as symbolic. “Let them just be happy,” some may think. “Let them live a peaceful life. That’ll be enough.” It’s a sentiment that sounds kind but writes off their potential.
Friendship Circle flips that on its head. They say, “You are a human being.” That fact means you have something to give. The world needs you, and without your contribution, we are all missing something.
It’s not just a feel-good slogan. They mean it. And what’s more, it’s true.
Friendship Circle reframes how we see people with special needs and, most importantly, how they see themselves. Their programs make participants feel unique and special, help them understand that it’s okay to be different, and show them that they belong.
The Rebbe: Term ‘disabled soldiers’ misses the point
The next day, I had lunch at Soul Café with Rabbi Shemtov and his friend, Dr. Stephen Shaya (now my friend too). We spoke about the philosophy behind Friendship Circle. “Where does this worldview come from?” he asked. A little later, he answered his own question.
The highlight of the dinner had been a video of the Rebbe speaking to a group of injured Israeli soldiers, men who had sacrificed their bodies in service of their people. The Rebbe honored their courage, but didn’t let the moment settle into pity. He challenged the very name of their group: “disabled soldiers.” That label, he said, missed the point entirely.
Instead, he urged that they should be called “exceptional soldiers,” people to whom God entrusted exceptional challenges because they have exceptional strengths. Not only were they not “done,” they were just getting started.
That viewpoint is the beating heart of Friendship Circle and, frankly, the way we should look at every human being.
We’re all born with purpose. And purpose is expressed through contribution. That’s not a luxury for the elite or the gifted. It’s not reserved for the successful or the brilliant. It’s a basic part of what it means to be human.
The Rebbe insisted that regardless of our perceived abilities, each of us has a unique mission, something only we can bring into the world. And the moment we lose sight of that, we shrink the very definition of humanity.
The Rebbe’s legacy
On Thursday, June 18, Jews around the world mark Gimmel Tammuz, the 32nd anniversary of the Rebbe’s passing.
On this day, many people study the Rebbe’s Torah teachings, visit his gravesite in Queens, or attend events at their local Chabad House. In addition, what better way to honor the Rebbe’s legacy than by adopting his revolutionary lens on human potential?
His belief was that every person is an indispensable piece of the puzzle and that the picture is incomplete without them. Their contribution might not land on the front page of the newspaper. It might not look revolutionary. But it’s theirs. It’s real. And the world needs it.
No, not every autistic child is a card-counting savant. Not every blind person can play piano at the age of three. But every human being has something to offer.
Sometimes, it takes time to discover. Sometimes, it takes a whole community to believe in you before you believe in it yourself.
That’s what Friendship Circle does. They don’t stop at love and hugs. They roll up their sleeves. They search, they support, and they help each person shine and then share that light with the world.
So the next time you see someone who looks or speaks differently, ask yourself:
When I look at a human being, what do I see?
To learn more about Friendship Circle, visit FriendshipCircle.org.
