Rose-colored glasses get a bad name. Whenever I hear someone accused of having rose-colored glasses it usually means they’re unrealistically optimistic or ignoring reality. This might be true…But I believe everyone needs a pair. A few years ago I got some from my older sister, who is my hero. She’s been my greatest teacher and role model, and the “rose-colored glasses” she gave me all those years ago have been a gift that changed my life.
When I was nine, I hated that my sister was disabled. It’s not terrible or life threatening or something, but since I was young I was aware of the impact my sister’s disability had on my family. My mother never told me what my sister had; she would always say “It’s an intellectual disability!” I’ve learned that an intellectual disability is more or less a catch-all term for a condition caused by a stunted or incomplete development of the mind. Over the years I’ve learned that my older sister’s intellectual disability was characterized by an impairment in motor and social skills, as well as her ability in math. I knew she couldn’t help being the way she is, and my parents have always been on my case for not being nicer to her. At the time, I simply did not have the patience for her. I hated her voice. Every time she would come in and say hello I instantly became infuriated for no good reason other than the fact she was there. At nine years old, the youngest of three children, I felt jealous about all the attention showered on her from our parents and I was angry that my sister got away with behavior that I’d be punished for. I remember snapping at her for something so insignificant and trivial, yelling and screaming so loud it left her in tears. I remember going to bed that night just wishing she was normal.
As I continued to grow up, my parents would tell me to look after my sister and take care of her. Still young and naïve, I’d often roll my eyes. “Why should I have to take care of her when she’s older than me?!” At the time this seemed like another chore being piled on me, an unnecessary burden. I was frustrated—this was not at all how I imagined a brother-sister relationship.
I wasn't ready to put myself in her shoes. Instead, I saw it as some kind of burden foisted upon our family.
Later I came to realize how selfish I was, and realized I had to let go of my expectations for what I imagined a brother-sister relationship to be and get on with life. That's when I put on my first pair of rose-colored glasses. Maybe we could still have that brother-sister relationship and we could learn from each other, even if it wasn't all that I first thought.
The reality is that my sister has taught me more about life than I could have ever imagined teaching her. She used the greatest instructional technique available, teaching by example. I've had living examples right in front of me of what success really is, what faith means, and the value of forgiveness and family. I've learned from my sister’s example whenever I put on a pair of rose-colored glasses.
From my sister I’ve learned that success is falling down seven times and getting up eight. I've learned that faith is really trust without reservation, not belief without proof. I've experienced why forgiveness is another word for freedom. I've seen how everybody can teach something. I've learned that doing your best is more important than being the best. I’ve witnessed that we achieve our greatest value in serving others without judgment or expectation.
Ever since she was born, my sister was told by doctors, teachers, and coaches she wouldn’t succeed. She was told the obstacles placed before her were insurmountable—there’d be no way she could ever develop the functioning capacity of an adult. Today, I smile when I think about how wrong all those predictions were. I’m proud to have watched my sister excel and achieve beyond what even she thought she was capable of doing. She’s my most loyal friend and my most observant critic. The values I’ve learned from my sister have culminated in a perspective through which to look at the world without restrictions defined by somebody else. I look to her as a constant source of inspiration and guidance, and every day I’m proud to be her little brother. I love you sis.
Ethan Popowitz is a student at Western New England University in Springfield Massachusetts and is majoring in journalism in the Department of Communication.
The views expressed by commentators are solely those of the authors, and do not necessarily reflect the views of this station or its management.