Kyra Williams
Kyra Williams is a junior in high school from Houston, TX. She wrote this story about her brother, Colin, who has autism.
The worst part of Colin’s disability is his epilepsy. I can tell when he is having a seizure because I will hear a lot of running in the hall past my door. I can also tell that it stresses my parents, and that stresses me. The seizures make life unpredictable because they can happen at any time, anywhere. Colin can get hurt by falling down or convulsing. Foam usually comes out of his mouth, and sometimes he throws up. After it is over, everyone is drained and sort of in shock. It is horrible to watch, but I think my experience with my brother has made me more empathetic to individuals with serious medical conditions. It also makes me realize how lucky I am to have good health.
Why am I sharing all this? It is not to shock whoever is reading this or to parade my life in front of them like some circus performance for them to gawk and stare at. In many ways it is difficult to talk about how Colin’s experience has affected me personally. On the one hand it obviously has affected my life. On the other hand, I am not the one living with special needs. I do not want to make Colin’s experience all about me. If I am describing what living with Colin is like, I am doing it for just that: to describe it, to inform, to attempt to span what in many ways is an unbridgeable divide.
Most people do not understand what it is like to live with someone with special needs. Some people obliviously ignore handicapped individuals as if they are invisible, while others stare stupidly at them in public. Going to the grocery store with Colin can be challenging. People often stare at Colin because he may be loud or violate their personal space. This is a time when I would prefer oblivious ignoring. When I see families with special children in public, I make a conscious effort not to appear concerned or surprised. That way, they do not feel the discomfort I feel in those situations. Fortunately for Colin, he spends most days sheltered from a world that is unsure how to relate to him. Colin is lucky to attend an autism school where he is amongst equally special peers, and because he is so good-natured, he is the class favorite of both students and teachers.
At home, life with Colin is somewhat uneventful, as long as I do not have visitors. When I was younger, girls who would come over for playdates would sometimes complain about Colin being loud and ask, “Why is he so loud? Can you get him to stop?” Colin often vocalizes when he is engaging in stimming, self-stimulating behavior which includes repetition of movements and sounds. Also confusing to visitors, Colin does not understand property ownership, and once, he snatched a freshly baked cookie right out of my friend’s hand. I did sympathize with her because she looked so shocked, but I thought she should be more understanding because this behavior is part of his disability. I generally feel that I am negatively judged by others for having a handicapped brother, but I refuse to be embarrassed. My love and respect for Colin are my shield, and it is my responsibility to show others how he should be treated.