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Personal Narrative: Ferdinand The Bull

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When my older brother, Thomas, was in the third grade, his teacher called my mom and demanded Thomas stop biting his pencil. She considered it inappropriate and distracting, possibly even abhorrent. Therefore, the teacher snippily claimed, she would not be able to deal with Thomas until he ceased and desisted. At our small Catholic school, not being able to deal with Thomas was practically their mantra. Really, not being able to deal with anyone who was just a little different was their mantra. It was always Thomas’ fault: his fault that he was angry, his fault that other kids would pick at him, his fault that he wasn’t the perfect student. Other kids didn’t understand why he would get mad at himself or why he prefered to read or draw over …show more content…

A lot of my life has been spent worrying about Thomas, or deflecting comments made about him. To me, Thomas is Ferdinand the Bull, but I’ve always known that he is a different person at home and at school. Continuous admonishment and reprimand by teachers beginning at a young age made Thomas withdrawn, easily rattled and snarky. It was his defense mechanism; and no one, not even me, could make sense of my brother. When he was diagnosed with a mild form of Asperger’s in eighth grade, I wasn’t surprised. I was devastated. Not because of the Asperger’s; but because I knew, without a shred of doubt, that the teachers and classmates in Thomas’ life up to that point never supported him. They made the anxiety that my brother carries so much worse. In my naive sixth grader mind, I blamed myself. If only I had been more cognizant, if only I had been nicer to Thomas, if only everything was smooth and shiny and simple. I know that there is no one to blame, and Thomas is better than fine. Asperger’s for him simply means that Thomas has a tendency towards stress and anxiety. But his diagnosis solidified my belief that I had to be there to protect

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