Autistic Children and Their Non-Autistic Siblings

I applied for a library card, probably around the age of six, at the York Public Library. I'm not sure which made me prouder: getting my own card or having my mother exclaim, "Oh, you picked a good book," when I checked out "The Fox Went Out on a Chilly Night," by Peter Spier.

As time passed, my siblings and I moved from the children's section to the adult side of the library, and during our teen years read such memoirs as "Eric," a tale Doris Lund wrote about her seventeen -year-old son's battle with leukemia. There was also Gayle Sayers' autobiography, "I Am Third," which took the reader from the football great's humble beginnings in an Omaha ghetto to his successful career as a running back for the Chicago Bears. The memoir also paid tribute to his friendship with teammate Brian Piccolo, who died of cancer; this became the basis for the film "Brian's Song."

Stories of good looking, young men hurdling such obstacles appealed to our flair for the dramatic. We reveled in the heartbreak and misfortunes of life, probably shedding a few tears at the unfairness of it all.

"A Child Called Noah: A Family Journey" was a little different, though. The author was Josh Greenfeld, a father and screenwriter who chronicled the experiences and difficulties in raising an autistic son, Noah. Part of the appeal was Greenfeld's frankness in writing about his son's inability to communicate, his tantrums, and physical attacks on others. As if that weren't enough, Noah wasn't potty-trained, which Greenfeld sometimes wrote about in graphic detail. Greenfeld would go on to write two more books about Noah.

I would look at the photographs on the book jacket of Noah and his brother, Karl, two incredibly cute little boys with dark hair. If someone worked hard enough, couldn't they make Noah as normal as his brother? Couldn't they make him better?

Of course I learned it wasn't that simple, a fact that was hammered home several years later when I had two children of my own, both of whom have disabilities. I have experienced first-hand the temper tantrums and frustrations of dealing with a child who can't communicate, as well as the ordeals of potty-training. And there's not enough "trying" in the world that can make things normal, no matter how much you wish for it.

Now Karl Greenfeld, Noah's brother, has written his own book, "Boy Alone: A Brother's Memoir" offering his own perspective, a mixture of empathy and anger, of growing up with an autistic brother who spit and pulled hair. As his parents grow older, Karl worries about what will become of Noah. In an NPR interview, Karl Greenfeld said his brother is a "shattered...mess" and although he learned some compassion and selflessness from Noah, it wasn't by choice.

We all have a right to our feelings and I applaud Karl Greenfeld for his honesty. Noah would probably understand since he didn't have a choice either.