I want to extend my deepest congratulations to Anders Olauson for receiving an honorary doctorate from Gothenburg University. This recognition is a testament to his decades of tireless dedication and transformative work, particularly through Ågrenska—a center that has had a profound impact on my life.
While I am fully aware of the incredible international contributions Anders has made—ranging from his involvement with global patient organizations to his advocacy on the highest stages, including the United Nations—I want to take this opportunity to focus on Ågrenska. For me, Ågrenska is not just a professional achievement of Anders; it’s a deeply personal one. It is a place that shaped my early years, offering me and many others a community that truly understood the challenges we faced. Ågrenska, under Anders’ leadership, was a sanctuary that went beyond medical care to provide hope, understanding, and a sense of belonging.
A Place of Belonging
From the time I was seven until I was fifteen, I spent several weeks almost every summer at Ågrenska. Later, as a teenager, I returned to work there, helping to care for younger kids and organizing activities. Those summers were a taste of freedom—playing, pulling pranks, staying up late—experiences that many children enjoy at summer camps. For someone with a disability, fitting in can be challenging; you can’t simply blend into a crowd. But at Ågrenska, everyone was unique, so we were all the same.
One memory stands out vividly. I was around 13 or 14 years old, and there were two groups of kids—those of us with more severe disabilities, like myself, and another group with diabetes. One evening, we were set to have a barbecue, but because the kids with diabetes couldn’t have sugar, none of us were allowed ketchup on our sausages. It might seem small, but it was a big deal to us. I became the spokesperson for the kids in wheelchairs who desperately wanted ketchup. I went up to Anders and Birgit, another member of his team, and said we could accept not having ketchup—but only if the kids with diabetes were banned from playing football for the rest of the week.
Anders listened carefully, paused, and then calmly went inside to get the ketchup. I’m not sure he even remembers this moment, but for me, it was about more than just ketchup. It was a lesson that we all have to live with our limitations, whether it’s not being able to have ketchup or not being able to play football. Anders demonstrated his deep understanding, his willingness to listen, and his commitment to fairness. His approach was always about learning—from everyone around him—and I am grateful for all the lessons I learned from him over the years.
A Lifelong Source of Inspiration
I’ve chosen to focus on Ågrenska in this message because of the personal connection I have with the center and what it has meant to me. Anders’ leadership created an environment that didn’t just address the physical aspects of living with a disability, but also the emotional and social dimensions. His work fostered a sense of possibility and empowerment that continues to inspire me today.
The Legacy of Anders Olauson
Anders, your lifelong dedication to ensuring that no one is left behind, and your fight to improve the quality of life for so many, have made you a true pioneer. Your work at Ågrenska is not just a legacy; it’s a living, breathing testament to what compassionate leadership can achieve. You have shown us all what it means to be an advocate, not only through words but through actions that change lives.
Today, as you receive this well-deserved honor, I want to thank you personally. Thank you for believing in children like me, for championing our right to live fully and without limits, and for showing the world that everyone, regardless of their circumstances, has immense value. Congratulations once again, Anders. I am forever grateful for the paths you have paved, the lives you have touched, and the legacy you continue to build.