She Is Only in Kindergarten. I Was Eleven Years Old When My Youngest Sister, Kellyn, Was

Marian E. Donahoe

She is only in kindergarten. I was eleven years old when my youngest sister, Kellyn, was born. At that time, I never realized how much more difficult it is to be my genuine self with a quality character when life takes unexpected turns: Kellyn was born with Down syndrome.

I live in a world where the word “retarded” means stupid and “uncool,” where children with disabilities are “special ed kids,” where parents do not want their “normal” child around my “abnormal” sister. What they do not realize is that the name Kellyn means “mighty warrior.” She is nothing less than that.

When Kellyn was born, I had had few encounters with this disability. Even after my parents explained what it actually meant, I still remember thinking what a drag she was going to be on our family; we could never be “normal.” I cringed at the thought of being ridiculed.

Sure, the years since my sister was born have been difficult and challenging. We have been confronted with rude stares and ignorant comments, but I have learned to overcome those. Those superficial differences are trivial when her considerable talents and abilities are brought into light.

Kellyn is the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. I am not saying this because she is my sister; I am not saying this because she had a diagnosed disability. I see beauty in who she is and what she has taught my family; to have patience, laugh at mistakes, and love unconditionally. She showers me in a multitude of hugs and kisses whenever I depart from or return home; she is overjoyed to be the biggest fan in attendance at my performances; and she embodies “UncommonSense’s” attributes more accurately than anyone I have every met.

It is because of Kellyn that I have changed from a petty, ridicule-fearing, perfectionist sister to a strong, confident, faithful one. She is the one that has brought out the best qualities in me. She is the one who has caused me to become a person of character. It is because of Kellyn that I now appreciate, respect, excel, unite, forgive, honor, learn, seek, and know compassion. It is the way Kellyn has chosen to lead her life that has compelled me to advocate this uplifting practice. I want everyone to have the opportunity to see what I see. Kellyn’s true character and integrity emanates from within her. Nobody who is a witness to it can leave unchanged.

My friends no longer use the word “retarded” as a synonym for stupid and “uncool,” they do not call children with disabilities “special ed kids,” and all of them want to be around my “abnormal” sister. They have discovered that the name Kellyn means “mighty warrior.” My sister has taught me how to stand for character and integrity with a passion as strong as that.