Wonder Woman of the Week: Elena Delle Donne

The spotlight for this week is a talented athlete, a social justice advocate, and a strong role model for young girls across the country. Her skills on the basketball court have helped make a name for both herself and her WNBA team. Her social work off the court has helped educate people about people with disabilities, minority groups- like the LGBT community- and her sportsmanship and respect on and off the court portray a standard for female athletes that create a positive image for young female athletes. The Wonder Woman of the Week is WNBA athlete Elena Delle Donne.

Elena Delle Donne was born in Wilmington, Delaware in 1989. After graduating from high school at Ursuline Academy as a three-time Gatorade Player of the State, Delle Donne started college at the University of Delaware. Delle Donne became the first student ever from the University of Delaware to be named an All-American Athlete after averaging 26 points and 8.5 rebounds per game, led the nation in scoring as a junior, and became the second fastest woman ever to reach a thousand points in NCAA basketball history. By the time she graduated, Delle Donne scored a total of 3,039 points and stands as the fifth most scoring basketball player in NCAA women’s basketball history. [1]

Unfortunately for one of the greatest basketball players in the history of women’s sports, the United States is not well known for recognizing the achievements of strong, independent women- and that little piece of American culture nearly put Elena Delle Donne out of the game. After years of leading the Chicago Sky to becoming successful WNBA dynasty, in 2015; Delle Donne continued to face outright sexism from the media, NBA players, and the American public. One NBA player- Gilbert Arenas- suggested on social media that the WNBA would get more viewers if the players played in thongs. Delle Donne stood up for her fellow athletes with a backlash statement about how WNBA players are athletes and role models- and not objects “put on this earth for men to look at.” [2]

But while the United States largely supplied deaf ears to the cries for women’s rights in past years, the culture of the United States is changing. That was evident when women like Breanna Stewart and Elena Delle Donne called for action on women’s rights in sports. Like Breanna Stewart, Elena Delle Donne’s athlete status finally paid off when people finally started listening to the cries for social justice members of the WNBA have been demanding for years. It is no surprise then that when Elena Delle Donne began talking about the people in her life that are minorities in their own right, people listen then too. Delle Donne grew up with a sister who suffered from physical disabilities, but who also served as Delle Donne’s biggest inspiration in life. When given the chance to have a spotlight commercial with Gatorade, Delle Donne used the opportunity to talk about the sister who cheered her on even in the hardest of times. [3]

Elena Delle Donne also used her platform as an athlete to begin campaigning for the social justice of other minorities when during the Olympics Delle Donne came out as gay in a brief statement about her recent engagement. Delle Donne has been a long-time supporter of the LGBT community- especially fellow WNBA players. By coming out and portraying her relationship through social media, Delle Donne is creating an image of WBNA players as not only sympathetic to the LGBT community; she also creates a dichotomy around the LGBT community as a socially normal aspect of American culture. [4]

If there is one WNBA player who is in serious need of recognition for her work on and off the court (and realistically, there’s hundreds) that woman would be Elena Delle Donne. Delle Donne not only dominates in the game by leading the Chicago Sky to becoming one of the best teams in the league, she also fights for all teams to make sexist male athletes take women more seriously, and fights for the rights of the handicapped and for the LGBT community. Elena Delle Donne is not just the Athena-haired goddess of basketball, she is one serious Wonder Woman.

And if my words were not enough to convince all the readers out there, read Elena Delle Donne’s own words about her charitable organization dedicated to people like her inspirational sister, Lizzie.

Photo by Scott Council

LIZZIE | A PIECE BY ELENA DELLE DONNE

As written for The Players Tribune

We often read about stories of momentary greatness — a time when a human being persevered despite insurmountable odds. But what’s a moment of triumph for one person is a lifetime of perseverance for my sister, Lizzie.

Lizzie is my older sister — also the older sister to my brother Gene — but often times it feels like she’s my younger sister. She was born deaf and blind, with cerebral palsy and autism. She doesn’t speak. The only real interaction or communication I, or anyone, has with her is in person, with hand over hand sign language. She hugs. She smiles. She kisses.

Think about your average day. You wake up, do any number of things to get ready, you feed yourself, you drive or otherwise find transportation to work, you do your job, come home or perhaps go out for dinner, and then tuck yourself in for the night. For most, it’s a routine that doesn’t take much consideration at all. Feeding yourself is something you just do. Talking, articulating your words with the people around you — something you just do.

It’s the day-to-day autonomy that gives many of us a sense of pride and accomplishment. When you’re young, you imagine the day when you’re completely independent — making your own life, following your dreams.

Lizzie has a routine like most people, but none of the independence. A typical day for her begins around 8 a.m., when my mom gets her out of bed. She’ll feed Lizzie breakfast, and give her all of the medications she has to take each morning for her various conditions. During weekdays, my mom will drive her to the Mary Campbell Center — which, if you can imagine, is something like a school or daycare — where she’ll swim each day, among other things. My mom picks her up at 3 p.m. and takes her back home. If it’s nice outside, Lizzie will go for a golf cart ride or my parents will push her around in her wheelchair.

She loves to be outside; she loves the wind. Feeling is one of the few senses she has. Something as simple as a windy day makes her so happy because she can feel it.

Her days end with a big family dinner. For someone so small, she can eat a ridiculous amount of food. Growing up, we’d joke that we needed to clean our plates or Lizzie would for us.

When Gene and I were young, we didn’t realize that anything was different with Lizzie. She was the superstar in our family. That’s the beauty of kids, I think — they just experience life as is. But then, as you get older and more exposed to the world, you start to distinguish between “normal” and “different.” I knew something was different with Lizzie when friends came over. I experienced her through their eyes, noticing their reaction to someone with special needs. My parents had to explain to me that, when Lizzie was born, she was just born a little differently than most people. But they also emphasized how incredible she is and all the things she’s accomplished — small feats that we all take for granted.

I understood as much as a kid could, but there were many times when I was afraid. The scariest part was the doctor appointments. Lizzie was in and out of the hospital all the time. Kids don’t understand all of the medical nuances to a condition like Lizzie’s. When you’re young, and someone you know and love is going to the hospital, your first thought is that they’re going to die. That was always a fear of mine. I was lucky to have Gene there, who experienced the same feelings at the same time. My closeness with him started then. Our parents were phenomenal at answering our questions and keeping us informed. That honesty helped eliminate the fear.

Lizzie has had more than 20 surgeries. Many, at least in the beginning, were on her eyes. When she was young, she had very little vision but her eyesight has completely failed over time. The surgeries couldn’t save it. Later, she had spina bifida, and went through a 15-hour surgery.

The trips to and from the hospital are too many to count.

My parents, with everything they’ve been able to get through with Lizzie — and then, somehow, still be able to raise Gene and I — are incredible. A child with special needs takes a toll on any parent, but I especially see it in my mom, who carries everything with so much grace. She’s essentially been caring for a newborn for 30 years. Lizzie is still in diapers, so my mom and dad are still changing diapers every single day. They’ve been through so much — the surgeries, the different diagnoses. It’s pretty impressive that they wake up each and every day ready to do whatever they can to help her. It’s amazing what you’ll do for love.

There are a lot of misconceptions about people with special needs. I think people react to those with physical and mental disabilities the way that they do because they have a fear of the unknown — a belief that if you touch them, they might break. It’s not dissimilar to how people view those with an illness; they’re afraid to interact with them because they think the person is fragile. That’s hardly the truth. They are complicated and beautiful and human like the rest of us — they just express and experience the world differently.

I often see people not sure of how to interact with Lizzie when they meet her for the first time.She can’t see me. She can’t hear me. How do I even say “hi” to her? I try to lead by example and have them watch how we interact with her, and as they get comfortable, they’ll do the same. It’s important to remember that her communication is based on the remaining senses she does have; she might sniff your hair, she might even grab you and pull your hair, she might lick your head.

Therein lies one of the biggest lessons Lizzie has taught me: communication is so much more than words. That lesson has transcended all of my relationships. It’s changed how I communicate with those that I’m closest to. Language is important but actions — doing, touching — is above all. Giving someone a huge hug is sometimes way more effective than saying anything.

That’s what makes being apart from Lizzie so tough. I can’t just Skype with her when I’m missing her. I can’t text her. I can’t call her. That’s hard. I have to be with her to communicate — she has to literally touch me. Or smell me. I keep her picture as the background on my phone so I can always see her. She’s a huge reason why I don’t play overseas during the WNBA offseason like a lot of the other players. She was also a significant factor in my decision to play at the University of Delaware — in my own backyard.

My home is with her.

She’s made me a different person. She’s my constant perspective. I have Lyme disease and undergo regular treatment, including swallowing a palmful of pills each morning. As an athlete, my body and its performance is my job. I’m often exhausted from the Lyme, and frustrated with my body. It’s hard. But when I think about my position — when I think about how tired I am or how much it hurts — I think about Lizzie. I’m so lucky to have the health that I do, and so lucky to have a body and mind which allow me to do what I do. She inspires me. None of my hardships are even close to the same plane as what she has endured. And look at what makes her happy …

Wind.

That’s perspective.

The way people interact with and treat those with mental and physical disabilities seems to have improved dramatically from when I was younger. I definitely credit the Special Olympics for helping that progress along. You have to get people with special needs out in the community. Don’t hide them; show them how incredible they are and what an asset to society they are. Empower them. I plan to do that with my own foundation, The Elena Delle Donne Charitable Foundation, which will combine initiatives from both the Special Olympics and Lyme disease awareness.

She’s never said a word to me, but Lizzie has taught me more than anyone in my life.

That’s her power. [5]

“Elena Delle Donne.” WNBA 20th. Women’s National Basketball Association; nd. Web. 21 September 2016.

Smith, Bryan. “The New Superstar in Town.” Politics & City Life. Chicago Magazine; 16 May 2016. Web. 21 September 2016.

Beer, Jeff. “WNBA MVP Elena Delle Donne Gets Personal In Striking New Gatorade Ad.” Fast Company & Inc. Manso Ventures; 16 September 2016. Web. 21 September 2016.

Buzinski, Jim. “WNBA star, US Olympian Elena Delle Donne comes out publicly.” Outsports.com. Vox Media; 3 August 2016. Wed. 21 September 2016.

Delle Donne, Elena. “Lizzie.” Elena Delle Donne. np; nd. Web. 21 September 2016.