The Boy with the Book by Elizabeth

The Boy with the Book by Elizabeth - March 2017 Scholarship Essay

A seventeen year old boy clutched his battered and beaten hardback, barely with a cover and full of his several hundred thousand truest friends, against his chest as he walked the halls of his high school. Just three years before, he was given the once fresh Merriam-Webster dictionary so he could describe every aspect of every dinosaur species in stunning detail. But now, as he walked the halls among those he did not understand and who did not understand him, the red leather bound book was his shield. It would remind him that even though the other kids would tease and taunt him because of his stutter and large stature, and even though he ate lunch alone and often went days without speaking, he could still rely on his words and his dinosaurs. His brain works in capacities most people’s can never reach, but he can never reach his full potential because he is constantly reminded that he does not belong. He has autism, and no one lets him forget it.
I was the girl who thought she was invincible. Straight A’s? No big deal. Being contacted by academic talent searches in seventh grade? Been there, done that. First chair saxophone player? Hardly a big accomplishment. Then, in eighth grade, I was forced into a support class to raise the class average, and the shock of being in such an unfamiliar position was all too humbling. No one wanted to talk with the “know-it-all” who could finish the tests long before the other students. I would often go days without speaking, and I eventually developed severe anxiety. I glimpsed what it is like every day for so many bullied special needs kids: the feeling of isolation and the inability to express how terrible I felt.
Months later, I rediscovered my voice during a tour to the local high school to visit some of our potential classes for the next school year. We came down a hallway, and there he was in the lunchroom: the seventeen year old boy, being pelted in the back of the head with cashews, trying to study his beaten dictionary among an empty table. It broke my heart to see my brilliant brother so defenseless and alone because of his disability, so I decided to do what he could not do and what scared me to death: I became an advocate for understanding those with special needs.
As I began participating in speech contests to speak out for my brother, I started to discover just how necessary raising awareness for bullied special needs people is. Despite recent pushes to end bullying, picking on and isolating those with special needs is more rampant than ever. Bullying used to be confined to school property, but with today’s technological advances, harsh comments and unfriendliness can be reached by the touch of a finger. After leaving school, the victims are still ruthlessly attacked through profane text messages, email, and social media. In fact, millions of videos mocking handicapped individuals circulate social media endlessly, and many people hit “like” and “comment” without considering the person behind the screen. Because of this, freedom to escape bullying has become increasingly more difficult, especially for special needs individuals. Knowing from the experience of living with an autistic brother, many of those with special needs struggle with fears and exaggerated emotions, and being at home and with family is often a comforting experience. Unfortunately, when my brother was being bullied, he did not feel safe in his own bed at night, and the once comforting experience became a nightmare.
Perhaps the biggest tragedy of their situation is that special needs individuals are often isolated and belittled long into adulthood, as if they are lower class citizens. I remember when my brother, now twenty-two, wanted to scour our local Toys R Us for a special-edition Transformer, but decided against it because he was afraid others would treat him like a child. Fortunately for my brother, he is able to recognize when he is being treated unfairly. Autistic people often do not realize they are being mocked, and they could possibly go through years of ridicule while the bullies presume there are no negative consequences for their actions. But just like “normal” people, those with special needs have their own personalities and emotions, so the exact opposite is also likely; a small off-hand comment can cause immense trauma if said even once. These issues are what compel me to promote the “platinum rule”: treat others the way they want to be treated. For special needs individuals, that is being a friend.
By the time I witnessed my brother being bullied and began speaking out for him, it was already too late to salvage what self-confidence he still had. For example, my brother was the only special needs student from his high school to pursue a college degree; unfortunately, he dropped out of college because he felt inadequate socially, even though his professors claimed he was one of the most brilliant students they have ever taught (he could even tell his teachers specific facts about topics only briefly mentioned in class). It was too late for the boy with the red book, and it is already too late for a lot of people. But there are countless numbers of kids out there who still need a voice.