As a little girl, you’re told that a good big brother watches over you. He’s supposed to fight off the playground bullies, show you the best routes to use when going from class to class and scare off all the guys that try to hit on you. What nobody tells you is that this is all a myth. A great older brother is a teacher.
I’ve always been the protector of my older brother, Max, and he has always been my teacher. I wouldn’t want it any other way.
Max has never been physically able to protect me. He started losing his vision when he was 18 months old and became fully blind a little before the age of five.
Max is 15 months older than me, making him only a grade ahead of me. When I started middle school, my mother held Max back for a year so that he and I could go through high school together. Even though Max has been able to physically progress through elementary, middle and high school, his brain has never been able to retain an education above that of a preschooler. Holding him back for one more year didn’t change much for him because he had already been in the same special needs class for the previous three years. Truthfully, he loved everybody so much that it made him even happier to spend an extra year with his teachers and younger friends.
I remember when the two of us were in eighth grade, and we both entered the school talent show. I did a contemporary dance with my friends, and he sang the song “Bicycle Built for Two.” It was the most heart-warming performance the school and I had ever witnessed, but a few of the kids in the seventh grade section of the bleachers seemed to disagree.
Not even 15 seconds into Max’s song, you could hear three boys yelling offensive slurs, including the word “retarded.”
Oh, was I livid. No person, especially Max, deserves to be treated like that, not to mention the fact that I loathe the “R-Word.”
Max hesitated during his song, but he kept on going. He didn’t really understand what was happening, but every person around who cared for him did.
This was the first time I’d ever felt real anger. Ever since that day, I’ve viewed the world much differently.
The world is not a place full of loving people. “Treat everyone the way you want to be treated” is only a rule in kindergarten. The difference between Max and the rest of the world is that Max has that motto encoded in his brain. To know that I have someone in my life who thinks that way, let alone be related to him, is the greatest blessing I’ve ever had.
What my older brother has done for me is teach. He’s taught me to love and forgive.
Even though those seventh grade boys couldn’t have cared less about Max’s feel-
ings, Max could not have loved them more.
From the point of view of his little sister, I could not see how he was able to act like nothing had happened, but what I learned from that one event will benefit me forever.
My big brother taught me to release my anger with forgiveness; to forgive the person and show them love in the hopes that they can change.
Max has never actually been able to protect me, but he’s done better. He’s given me the morals that I’ve come to treasure most. He’s taught me how to be genuinely happy. How could an older brother be any better?
– By Eva Willauer