Narrative Essay

Jose Lopez

2/28/2023

English 110

Narrative Essay Final Draft

The Privilege of Speech 

Speaking is a privilege that people take for granted. Now let me explain. Growing up I had the opportunity to learn two languages. Spanish was my first language with English being my second. It was something I was immensely proud of because when I went to school, I ended up finding out not everyone knew both languages. But to me the reason speaking is a privilege is because my little brother cannot. When he was born, he was born with Cerebral Palsy which meant his brain was not as developed as it should have been. He cannot walk, talk, or move because his brain can’t do it. Because of this when I was little when I had learned how to read, I would read to him so that he could understand English. I would teach him the meaning of words and write out stories for him. My family saw this, and they would buy us flashcards and when a therapist came to help him, I would help the therapist. For a long time in my childhood, it was spent with me helping teach my little brother English so he could understand me.

To go back to the start, I was about 4 or 5 when I had learned how to fully speak. Everyone around me called me a smart child and so I felt like it was only fair that I tutor my little brother as his olde brother. So, whenever I had my own free time I would go and read a book to him, whether it was a simple book or a picture book it would always make me happy when he would smile. I would learn from him too, though, I could tell which books he likes and which he didn’t all from his expressions. I would hold up two different books and when I’d say one his eyes would widen, or he would start smiling and then I would start reading the book. That is how I’d learn what his favorite books are. It was like this for an exceptionally long time and eventually he started understanding me just as I did with him. Everything I’d say was like he understood and responded with a facial gesture or body movement. If he didn’t like something he would tense up and swing his arms like a tantrum. This was our way of communicating when he couldn’t. It made me so happy because I felt like I was teaching him something as an older brother. I even learned what words, phrases or actions would make him laugh. Our bond grew from this, and it would keep building

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Going to school helped me learn even more than I had already learned in terms of English and Spanish. I was able to learn more phrases, words, and literary devices. This expanded my imagination which was already excessively big at the time. I would create worlds and stories with my toys, and I would even write and draw my own mini comic books. It was a grand time for me and of course I would share everything with my little brother. Every story I wrote I would read it to him first to see if he liked it. What he would think about my stories would dictate what my honest thoughts of my own stories would be. If he laughed and enjoyed it then to me, they were good, if not then I would have to go back and revise them to make them better. He was my personal test reader for all my stories. My understanding of the English language was starting to grow as well as my creativity with these stories. I would make stories about a Luigis Mansion plot mixed in with Ghost Busters ideas. It could also range from me using my toy cars to make a story where the cars are alive just like in the Cars movie. He would love every story and as long as he laughed at them, I would keep making these stories and keep making them perfect for him.

Once I started getting much older, well into my teenage years and being in High School, I started seeing my brother less as I was busier with homework and tests and when I had free time, I would end up playing video games. That doesn’t mean I stopped loving him though, me and him were still inseparable from each other and whenever I had the chance to do so I would make him laugh. Even now we still know that words like “banana” make him laugh, or our inside jokes like “pineapple underpants,” and even the actions of sneezing and saying “achoo” never fail to make him laugh. We use what I learned too for when we pick a show for him to watch. Does he want to watch Mickey Mouse Club House? No because he swung his arms. Does he want to watch Doc McStuffins? No because he made an angry facial expression. Does he want to watch Handy Manny? Yes, because he started to smile at you. It is safe to say that speaking is a privilege to everyone who has it. But for my brother he doesn’t need to speak because I gave him his own voice using mine. I learned and I keep learning for him, for us.