Rick Welch looks like a sea captain. Or I think I’ll say, see-captain. Read on to learn why.

Rick is currently my belayer with United Rocks. A member of the Sportrock Rio team coached by Travis Robinson.

Rick is easy to like.

He joined United Rocks because Travis asked him to. He is committed to the team. He rarely misses practice.

He greets everyone he sees with a wide smile and a soft hello. He is tall. A person you look up to, and he does the same to you. Never judging you but seeing you with curiosity instead. Welcoming you always, and you thinking, I’m glad you’re here.

He is as comfortable in a climbing gym catching me when I fall as he is underwater viewing marine life. It is no surprise Rick easily sees far beyond the surface of the climbers. He has never doubted any climber’s ability to climb new routes and get that next send. Rick sees when doubt creeps into the climber he is working with, and he knows how to first acknowledge climbing can be hard.

That’s a natural skill that not many people have. Rick allows his climbing partners to have good and bad days on the wall.  He trusts that making the moment go away is not what is needed.

Instead, he chooses to listen, wait, and let the moment be felt. Leading his partner to a new place just by being patient.

I am not able to speak to Rick when I climb. Rick does wish he understood my body language and impulses better. Just knowing that he is paying attention to my more subtle language means so much. I want him to know perfection isn’t required.

We want to be seen as humans. Not disabled or broken. This moment shared by Rick is personal and loving in ways most non-speakers don’t often get to experience. Our touch can often be viewed as something different than intended. Rick allowing this moment with a fellow climber to happen is inclusion at its best.

“Trevor, whom I had worked with just a few times, came up to me and gently held my face with both hands. Then he pressed his forehead to mine. It was a very tender and touching moment. His father, Scott, later told me it was his way of expressing his feelings.” RW

What matters is Rick cares.

People, that is why United Rocks matters. It is these moments. Where climbing allows us to connect with people we otherwise wouldn’t have met. Connected by a rope, friendships begin.

Lots of moments like this happen at every practice. The send isn’t as important as being seen. It’s taking the “dis” out and just choosing to see the person.

Different but never lacking and suddenly when noticed, our abilities shine.

“I think many people do not appreciate that disabled climbers are really no different from anyone else. They have dreams, goals, good days, and bad days. When a disabled climber is having a bad day, people may assume there is something wrong with them or that they need treatment or some other remedial action, when what they really need is understanding and sympathy for the day they are having. We need to help them through those difficult moments, not push them aside.” RW

I want a gym full of people with eyes that see far beyond the surface. Who understands that struggle is not something that needs to be fixed every time. Walls help us understand we can overcome our challenges and turn them into new possibilities.

I like people who cast a wider lens on our community. Who wouldn’t? The ability to observe is powerful. Rick saw this happen in a climber choosing not to climb, but then his body wouldn’t listen.

“His mind wanted to stop climbing for the day, but his body was insistent on climbing.  It was wonderful to be there when his normally dominant body yielded to his mind.” RW

I have full-body apraxia. My mind often gets overruled by my body. I do things I don’t want to do. It’s a constant battle that I can win if given enough space. I’m not sure Rick even knows that. He doesn’t need to know that because Rick can be patient. With time, I can get my body to yield.

What a gift, and it costs nothing to give it.

I can’t say the people I meet, or my fellow climbers meet, will all be like Rick.

I’m just thrilled to know they exist.