My Extraordinary Journey Through Life with Brittany

Tyler Rapp

You are my bff I ever had2015. My sister and one of

my biggest inspirationsBrittany Nicole Rappwas born on
March 6, 1997, with a condition known as Kleefstra
Syndrome. Essentially, she is missing part of her ninth
chromosome, which inhibits intellectual growth significantly.
I, a young schoolboy at North Belmont Elementary School
(where my outgoing and cheeryyet overprotective, as she
was constantly eyeballing my sisters teachers and making
sure everything was perfectmom worked), found this out in absolute shock. What is Kleefstra
Syndrome? What does being special needs even mean? Is this why Brittany is dissimilar from
the other students our age? Why did the cocky, idiotic people at North Belmont make fun of her?
exclude her? diss her? This overwhelming multitude of questions flooded my mind as a small
childperpetually trying to discern all of the answers, and always being disappointed that I
could not discover them. Simply put, I could not comprehend all of the news of having a
different sister - someone who was unlike the norm.
But, Brittany and I were not unalike each other in every aspect: we both loved to swim,
we both loved to play games, we both loved to eat, we both loved to read, we both loved to write.
However, at this time in my life, I was the obnoxiously too proud Accelerated Reader Champion
in my elementary school. I loved to read utterly everything (The Harry Potter series, The Magic

Treehouse series - just about anything I could get my hands on to get the most Accelerated
Reading points possible) and write even more (Harry Potter guides, horrible novel attempts
about magic and sorcery). Nonetheless, Brittany loved to read and write tooway too much
she would (and still does to this day) read out-loud for hours on end. I used to become so enraged
at this trait she possessed; it would bother me internally at how she displayed her infatuation with
reading by just reading out-loud in the most booming voice possible. I remember one time when
we were little, I was attempting to watch the intense Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire movie
as it was the most recent movie of the series out on DVD and I had to watch it countless times;
however, Brittany was babbling on-and-on as she read some book (possibly Ramona and Beezus,
as it was one of her favorites).
she turned to Beezus and said triumphantly, shouted Brittany, reverberating
throughout the den as Harry violently escaped the haunted, monstrous lake in one of the most
climatic movie scenes.
MOM! Please tell Brittany to shut up, I cant even hear the dang movie! I barbarously
hollered as I attempted to focus on the minute details within the television screen.
Unfortunately, during this time in elementary school, I was somebody I never wished I
was: a kid only concerned with school and grades, while barely even trying to understand the
dynamics of having a special needs sibling. An act as trivial as reading a book out-loud versus
silently should have never been an enduring annoyance of mine; rather, it should have been
something I aimed to understand and deal with.
Nevertheless, as middle school rolled around, I began to gradually broaden my horizons
and open up my mind to the world more so than before. I vividly remember the turn in my life

when I became a protective, overbearing brother who genuinely cared about the overall
wellbeing of Brittany: the transition into a mature pre-teenaged sixth graderfor one reason
or anothermarked this crucial moment. Luckily, I started to fully grasp the idea of those with
mental disabilities and began to connect some of the technicalities behind it. Educationally,
Brittany, as an eleven year old during the conclusion of fifth grade at North Belmont, read at a
first grade level. Simple words and phrases barely made sense to her, and she had trouble
pronouncing and enunciating many things. Often times she would need help deciphering how to
say many wordsmathematics, cantaloupe and quietly just to name a few due to the
lengths or weird mix of letters. While Brittany was capable of reading childrens books, actually
understanding and repeating or summarizing the plot would become arduous (and often times
pretty impossible). However, Brittany started to come to me for assistance with these troubles.
Hey brudder, what does this word say? Brittany would repeatedly ask about a word or
phrase in her readings.
What word is it? I would quickly ask back, as Brittany vigorously searched for the
word again on the page, difficulty trying to sound out every letter and syllable.
Can-tay-loop? Brittany would ask, giggling innocently knowing she was wrong, yet
still giving a tremendous effort.
Oh, thats cant-a-lope! Its just another type of fruit. I would sweetlyand increasingly
the older and older I gotanswer back in order to help in any possible way.
But, Brittanys abilities, sadly, never increased the older we got. As middle school
progressed for me and time rolled on, Brittany stayed at a low reading and writing level.
However, her persistent wants to continuously read and write are what stick with me the most. I

have never met someone who can read books over and over endlessly, never appearing to get
tired of the same outcome: Ramona runs away, Cinderella marries Prince Charming, Tinker Bell
saves the fairies. Brittanys finite selection of books rarely builds, but the reading never ceases.
Likewise, the writing she indulges in only shifts onward. To this day, Brittany thrives in facile
manners of writingtexting (as she has to have an iPhone because I do), printing Word
Documents with short letters (as she loves to use a computer like Tyler does), or writing little
notes in my yearbook (as she notices that I have signatures in my yearbook from my friends).
The copious amount of ways Brittany reads and writes affects me to this day, as a college
student, in more ways than I ever even realized. Why am I gifted with the ability to read and
write extensively, while Brittany is stuck in one fashion for the rest of her life? Why do I
(sometimes) dread to write an essay or do a writing assignment, when I should feel blessed to
have the capabilities to write in ways that Brittany may not be able to. The answers to these
questions are impossible to determine I will never understand why these things occur in life
(and to my own sister), but I do know that I am extremely lucky to have the gifts that I do; and,
Brittany and I are both incredibly lucky to be able to learn and expand off one another.
About a year ago, as I was stressfully preparing for my last summer of band camp as a
member of the drumline, I stood in my room practicing my show music without end. The beat of
the drum pad was constantly shifting and molding to the beat of the music as I attempted to get
ever single note correct, yet kept failing because of the intricacies in the rhythms. My mind was
in a vast array of madness as I could not continue to rehearse anymore without just stumbling
even more. But, as an attempt to disregard the failures, I began to look through old books and
momentspredominantly yearbooks, yearning for some positivity. As I reminisced on courteous

remarks from the previous year that my friends wrote, I came across a note from my sister: I
will miss you over the summer Tyler while you are at band camp this year! H.A.G.S. Love,
Brittany.

Then, only a few days later, I was sifting through Brittanys room looking for something.
The purple walls, elegantly filled with pieces of butterflies, Disney princesses, and more,
engulfed the scene as I searched for what I was looking for. All of the sudden, I came across a
worksheet Brittany completed in class: a fill-in-the-blank assignment on emotions (I feel _____
when). One single short, static sector of the worksheet stuck out to me; its message so clear
and meaningful, regardless of the rushed futility behind the sentence: I am saddest when my
brother goes off to colleage next year.

These two specific moments in time will stick with me forever Two nonchalant, yet
overwhelmingly powerful notes of writing that mean the absolute world to me, and epitomize the
emotions and essence behind having someone with special needs close to you. What is

surprisingly unique about having a mentally disabled sister is not what you can do for her, but
what she can do for you. I have gained knowledge and morals to a degree I do not believe would
have been as feasible without her: the power of language conveyed through reading and writing
is eminent in not only those of elite intellect, but of those of each individual on earth. The
immense effort Brittany always gives in reading and writingand everything in her lifeis
unbelievable, and is something I boundlessly appreciate and value. I have never gotten tired of
her writing; and now I can listen to her read out-loud all the time without the slightest
premonition of frustration. We both love reading; we both love writing; we are brother and sister.