I was 2 when I told my parents I wanted a little brother. Of course they tried to explain I might get a sister but, i was adamant that I'd asked God for a brother and that's what i would get. My baby brother, Khalil was born when I was 3 years and 4 months old. He's the light of our lives. He didn't talk to anyone but me until he was 4 years old. He would shyly whisper to me when he wanted or needed something such as food or the bathroom. One day, after my parents had yet again not believed my stories that he could speak, he was sitting on the swings in our backyard singing the alphabet that I'd been teaching him to himself. I rushed into to the kitchen and dragged my mother out so she could see. He wasn't given a formal diagnosis until he was 12 years old, when he was diagnosed with Asperger Syndrome. At that time, my father was advised to permanently institutionalize him. Doctors said he'd be a burden on our family otherwise. My brother is 27 now, he served 4 years in the Marine Corps as a jet engine mechanic, and now serves in the National Guard whilst attending college via the GI Bill. Nobody will ever tell him what he can't do again.

Kadeshia Easton
Pittsburgh, PA