Michelle Payne's historic win was heart-warming on so many levels. A determined woman beating the odds in a corporate, chauvinistic world, cheered on by a brother with an intellectual disability working in the same elitist, febrile arena.
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As many writers have pointed out; it has all the hallmarks for a fantastic summer read. Tragedy, triumph and tears.
The story of disability often contains all these elements. They are what draw us to it, yet repel us in equal measure. In a society so uncomfortable with the notion of perceived imperfection, we crazily veer from slushy sentimentality to incalculable cruelty in our reaction to it.
In such a dichotomy, people with disabilities are either heroes or tragic figures. They are either an inspiration to, or a burden on society; they cannot just 'be'.
Until Tuesday, Payne's brother, Stevie, was a perfect example of a man with Down syndrome who could just be an ordinary bloke. Working as a strapper at the Ballarat stables, he got on with the daily tasks of feeding, grooming and saddling race horses.
Overnight he has become, according to to one report on Tuesday, "a joyous beacon for the life those afflicted with Down syndrome can lead." There is so much wrong with that statement; first and foremost that he needs to be a "joyous beacon" at all.
Whilst there are people with intellectual disabilities in the workforce, the sobering reality for people with Down syndrome is that the vast majority will never work full-time.
According to the Bureau of Statistics only 12 per cent of people with intellectual disability:are in full-time jobs, whilst 61 per cent are not in the labour force in any capacity, compared with just under half of people with other disability types.
Mr Payne clearly has the love, compassion, dedication and support of those who are willing to believe in him. Unfortunately, employers like that are hard to find.
Let us be clear once and for all: Payne is not afflicted with Down syndrome. For decades, people in the disability field have worked tirelessly to change this view point which is as outdated as the word 'mongol', and yet seems to have left an indelible imprint on the public psyche.
As a mother of a child with Down syndrome, I too have struggled with the paradox of love for my child and a fear of her difference. It is a tension which ebbs and flows with life's currents underpinned by a deeper understanding of what it is to be human.
Today the future for people with Down syndrome is perhaps brighter than it's ever been. Life expectancy is longer; illnesses are treatable, opportunities more exciting than ever.
Recently Brisbane model Madeline Stuart, who has Down syndrome, took the New York fashion world by storm and has become an internet sensation.
But the dark side of the story, the bit that gets tucked away in the basements of hospitals shielded from public view is that 95 per cent of diagnosed fetuses in Australia are terminated.
This is because disability is generally considered a bad thing. In the current ideology, which goes as far to say that even normal is no longer good enough, it makes such terminations a moral duty. Yet humanity has always thrived on diversity.
As the pendulum of our reaction continues to swing between the two extremes of fawning acceptance and sterile rejection, we know we will have reached equilibrium when the story of Stevie Payne having a regular day job will not be considered news.
