I have been a teacher for my entire life. From math lessons to cooking lessons, I have been every teacher imaginable to my little brother, Gabriel (Gabe), who is autistic. Growing up, I felt like it was my duty to explain the world to him. He would ask simple questions like “Why do I need to shower every day?” and “Why do I have to say thank you?” hundreds of times a day. For every question he asked, I made sure to come up with an answer that he could comprehend. These answers were usually lengthy explanations that contained many Super Mario Brothers and Nintendo references, to ensure that every word that I spoke to him would make sense.
I always found myself trying really hard to help Gabe understand the world around him because, from an early age, I understood that the world didn’t want to understand him. Dealing with young Gabe’s outbursts, tantrums and meltdowns were not for the weak, and I understood why many people would not want to deal with it. What I could not understand was why some people could not bother to show him empathy when he was the one who needed it the most. It made me angry to know that it was “too difficult” for people to show him kindness or take a second to understand him in moments of need. And, it made me even angrier to know that they would never know the amount of times I had to comfort him after a meltdown while holding back tears of my own. These incidents would have me asking my own questions, the most common one being “Why do I have to be his sister?”
This was a question I could not answer for a long time, until one day he asked me to teach him how to cook eggs. The one task I never had to explain to Gabe was food, as a diet consisting of scrambled eggs, rice and beans, popcorn and cereal was sufficient enough for him. He started asking questions like, “How do I crack an egg?” and “How long do I leave it on the stove?” And, I taught him how to work the stove and follow a recipe. Eventually, he was able to do it on his own with ease. In helping him switch his “why’s” to “how’s,” I noticed that his newfound skills left an impression on his confidence.
Gabe was the main inspiration for my junior year Capstone Project, “Cookin’ Up Confidence,” where my friend and I decided to teach autistic children and their family members how to cook together. Creating this program, I never thought that it would change the way I view my relationship with Gabe. I realized that most of the time my brother did not need to be taught how to do something, but simply given some encouragement so that he can take on the task.
This program also helped me answer the question of “Why do I have to be Gabe’s sister?” and turned it into “How can I be a better sister to Gabe?”
Even though I claim to be the teacher in our relationship, he has taught me more lessons about life than any other person in the world. And, I genuinely believe that I am the luckiest sister in the entire world to be able to share my upbringing with a brother like Gabe.
