Assignment 01: Prologue

My childhood could be described in one word...LOUD. The television was loud, the computer was loud, and my brother was loud. We shared a small room in a small townhouse with big wooden bunk beds. Anthony was not a great sleeper. I remember many nights drifting in and out of sleep to the sound of Super Nintendo. Those were the more restful nights.

I am the only sister to an older brother with low-verbal autism. I spent the earliest part of my life attempting (and failing) to verbally communicate with my brother. I just assumed all of this was normal, and all brothers were like Anthony. It would be years before I realized our situation was extraordinary.

Anthony's autism engulfed him. His expressive and receptive language skills were equally delayed. Most of the world didn't make sense to him, so he was restless. To spend time with my brother, I had to learn to understand his autism, and defer to it. Anthony spent many hours playing video games and time on the computer. He could rely on his visual skills, which were heightened, and this would calm him. It was cool to watch him play games like any other kid, often better. Anthony had a photographic memory, so he would remember a move that worked, and could steadily advance through the levels. I gladly gave up “my turn” to watch him play. Anthony was the most happy communicating with his electronics. I was the most happy just to be able to sit with him.

My brother and I spent many afternoons sitting side by side at the keyboard or game console. Once Anthony got his first laptop, we moved our games to the living room couch. That's when things truly got noisy. Cartoon Network would be playing on the television, a video game would be running on the computer, and both would be at high volume. It was like he was trying to fill the air with sounds that made made sense to him. It was the loudest “peace” you could imagine.

When Anthony wasn't playing computer games, he was always in motion. I would watch him pace from the living room to the kitchen and back. He was like a shark that had to keep moving, or die. Anthony was a wanderer, which was extremely dangerous without communication skills. When we went anywhere as a family, it was always tense. We had to keep an eye on Anthony at all times or he might wander off without concern. All trips, even fun ones, could end tragically if we weren't hyper aware. No moment outside felt relaxed. We loved amusement parks, and Anthony and I rode all the extreme thrill rides together. Hershey Park was our favorite park. Even though we had fun, I remember being scared the whole time that Anthony could get lost if we weren't careful. I would look at other families enjoying themselves, and wondered what it was like to go places without fear. My parents kept two-way radios, and no one ever left Anthony's side. He was always dressed in a brightly colored shirt so he could be spotted quickly and easily. We all had to work together to keep Anthony safe, so we did.

While Anthony played his electronics, I would sit next to him and draw. It was cathartic. I enjoyed being able to make something beautiful when I was having a bad (or lonely) day. What I didn't expect was Anthony to pay attention to my drawings. We didn't communicate verbally, but he started pointing to cartoon or video game characters, and I would draw them. Anthony would light up with a smile and point to another one. That's when my world really began to change.