My Brother

 I think that this book also merits a discussion on the meaning of life for those who are anomalies--those with minds entirely different from the rest of us. My brother is the central inspiration for this section, as he reminds me almost daily what it is like to live a life dependent upon others. Through this section, I hope first to ponder upon why my brother is special--what it is that makes him different from a normal person. Secondly, I hope to attempt to resolve the apparent conflict between the morals and principles that I claim and believe to universally define life, and my brother's seeming incapacity to fulfill them. I don't know what it means for my brother to live a life well lived.

My brother is mentally disabled. When asked about him by others, I typically respond by saying that he is autistic, and they generally seem to understand. He can barely eat, sleep, and shower on his own. He needs his medicine (I think we experienced this firsthand while visiting him at a day camp after he had not been properly been administered his medicine by the camp staff). It seems that my brother has difficulty comprehending speech above a first or second grade level, and as of now, it seems dubious that he can live unassisted, let alone independently. Yet, in personality, he seems to be little different from normal people. He expresses sadness, happiness, and anger in normal proportions, though he doesn't (and perhaps doesn't know how to) channel them, so that they come out in the rawest form. He even feels a desire to work and to make himself useful, as do most human beings, and feels sympathy for others, such as myself, his baby brother. Such desires mainly manifest themselves in the form of a books he begins reading, or his school assignments. These days, his days are spent eating, watching TV, sometimes listening to music, and occasionally doing chores as my mom asks him.

A few months ago, I witnessed an aspect of my brother's behavior that seemed to reveal a major flaw in my brother's sense of logic. He was doing a school task, one that involved placing rubber corks into large plastic test tubes, and then closing their lid. Having not found the last lid, needed to place over the test tube, my brother instead took the cap off an already capped test tube, and used it to close the test tube. To a person like my brother, I feel that even explaining to him why what he did was wrong is beyond what he can comprehend. Despite his normal display of emotions, I have doubt in his ability to ever comprehend or apply mathematical or physical logic, or to comprehend a story, or to understand a complex series of steps involved in a task like making roti.

I want to close off by attempting to understand what a good life would mean to a person like my brother. Work would certainly fit into the picture, as would goals. I believe that he has a concept of right and wrong, of the sometimes unpleasant, but ultimately salutary nature of work, and of the nature of social relationships with teachers and family (I don't think he has a true friend who he regards as his equal--most he regards as his mentors, parents/caretaking family, and strangers. I am the closest he has to an equal). His lack of understanding of even basic social, factual, or logical concepts would make his position in society difficult, but a good life for him, in my opinion, is one where he can experience the struggle, the pain, and the pleasure of working towards a difficult long-term goal.