School Hate
My brother hated school. He was frustrated with it, just as his peers and teachers were with him. He had a peculiar temper; the kind that made you feel sympathy and anger at the same time. Ultimately, his inability to learn in school hastened negative behavior at home, and for that I resented him. My brother, Abel, and I are 18 months apart, but throughout our childhood, he felt like a stranger to me.
One day when we came home from middle school and my mother sat him down to complete his math homework, a burst of outrage steamed from the dining room table. From my room, I could hear the tearing of the paper, the rigid knock of the chair hitting the hardwood floor, other objects being thrown at the walls, and the helpless, frustrated cry that came from my brother. I dared to walk out into the hall and into the dining room; I was scared. My parents were trying to console him and reassured him that his school-related frustrations were not his fault. I grabbed the torn up, 6th grade math worksheet, and saw the simple multiplication and addition problems scribbled over with pen leaks and frustration. "This is why I'm always bullied", he said.
My brother is, and always has been different. As the years passed, I noticed how his perception of the world; his stubborn yet distinct ways of learning, but his fascinating sense of compassion and interest in helping others, has ultimately affected mine. His clamorous temper tantrums, and his ongoing struggle with academics have diversified my family and has led me to accept every individual in my life, build strong relationships, and help others.
Looking back on Abel's hindrance, and considering the multitude of personalities, faces, skin colors, beliefs, and struggles that I have experienced through community service and having a racially diverse background, I understand his inabilities and focus on his positive character traits. Now, if I were to go back to that moment of outrage that had angered me as a 10 year-old, my heart would feel heavy; I would be saddened by his destructive behavior manifesting insecurity and hopelessness, and I would hug him and embrace his imperfections, like a true family member would.
Abel has made me a more diverse individual and has driven me to help others in my school and community. And for that, I thank him.