In middle school the worst part of my day was lunch. This wasn’t because I didn’t have anyone to sit with, but because it was the only part of my day in school where I saw my brother. Every day I would sit in the corner surrounded by friends and watch him wander around the cafeteria trying to find a place to sit. Usually he would pull up a chair next to a group of people, completely out of the conversation and keep to himself. He always sat on the end, a placeholder. My older brother Wes was diagnosed with autism when he was born: a disability that impairs the ability of a person to communicate and interact. After school many days I would invite him to come sit with me the next day. He would look at me with a lopsided grin and say “Holly, my friends would miss me too much.” He didn’t know I had been watching, and it hurt too much to admit that to him or myself. …show more content…
It was astonishing to hear people refer to my hero as weird or abnormal. As a child the increasing amount of judgment in the world was confusing to me. It is incredible how ignorant prejudice will hold impaired children back far more than any disability or condition. I have seen the glares and disapproving looks from strangers when Wes is having a meltdown. It is unbearable trying to console a distraught boy while other people stand around watching what they presume to be the inability for my mom and I to properly care for my brother. What people see as “acting up” is nothing other than a coping mechanism. Situations like this increased my unhindered frustration that children with disabilities deserve a place in the world without