Both Sides of the Coin: Reflections of an Occupational Therapist Whose Brother Has Autism

As a young child, my career goal was to become a veterinarian. At the age of 10, I knew I would attend Cornell University, graduate, and help animals in need.  When asked whether my brother would have an effect on my career choice, my answer was always, “No.”  

Needless to say, life has a way of changing one’s plans. I attended undergraduate school at Bucknell University, with a  double major in Spanish and Animal  Behavior. Instead of veterinarian school,  I graduated from Long Island University  (LIU; Brooklyn Campus) with my Master’s  in Occupational Therapy. While at LIU, I  received a scholarship from the Department of Education in New York City. In  exchange for tuition payment, I would  work for this organization for 3 years. This  was my first job. To obtain extra income, I also worked for about 8 years for the Young  Adult Institute as an occupational therapist in the adult group homes with people with developmental disabilities.  

My brother, Jason , always had an impact on my life. My mother states that  when I was young, she had to remind me  that she was the mommy and she knew  how to take care of Jason. Even though I was the younger sibling by 3 years, I  always knew I had to support and protect  him. My achievements in life were always  for Jason. I knew he wouldn’t have the same opportunities as I did, so I always  worked twice as hard to obtain achievements for both of us. Jason even had an  effect on my choice of friends. If people couldn’t understand or interact with my  brother, they were no longer present in my tight-knit circle of friends. I used the  same method for dating. I had no desire to date a man who had no interest in  learning about my brother.  

Nevertheless, when I finally became an occupational therapist, I didn’t realize the profound effect Jason would have on my career. Living with my brother has given me an enormous amount of  patience to work with children and adults on the spectrum. There are times when I look into clients’ eyes and there is an  unspoken connection. I am able to know when to upgrade a task or provide a short break for a client. I can empathize when a client has an outburst and provide  soothing comfort when they are over stimulated. I feel at home working with  this population because it is my norm; it is a world that I know well. This side of the coin gave me the gift of being the best occupational therapist that I can be.  

The other side of the coin allows me to empathize with parents and family members. I understand the dreaded feeling of embarrassment when people stare at my brother while he’s exhibiting disruptive or unusual behavior. Years ago, I had to constantly explain what autism was. Although I no longer have to explain this condition, I will always feel the need to let others know  about it. I understand worrying about the future. I think about what will happen as  

Jason gets older and what his life will be like living in a residence. Will the staff treat him as I would want him to be treated? Do I have to worry about abuse or neglect? Will Jason be able to tell me whether some one has hurt him?  

Having been through this experience, I can be a listening ear for clients’ families.  I can provide resources and ideas they might not have thought of, and that my  family has actually tried. In this realm,  I can use my occupational therapy skills to help families navigate complicated systems as well as everyday life.  As I reflect on my experiences and my career thus far, one question continues to come up: Do I wish my brother didn’t have autism? This is complicated. If it meant my brother could express and  accomplish his life goals, then I would  want that for him. If it meant I would have fewer “burdens,” then I wouldn’t  change anything! Jason has helped me to develop into the woman, mother, and occupational therapist that I am today.  The ability to see and understand both sides of the coin is a blessing.