Tyler - The experiences that come with age
Being stuck in a van for 13 hours with my sick sister was not what I had prepared for when packing for this vacation. As I listened to her ragged, pain-laden sighs as she fought against fever and nausea, I cursed my luck for her having gotten sick the one time our parents weren’t around, and at myself for not bringing any medicine with me. The weak air conditioning circulating through the van didn’t stop the sweat from matting my hair and dripping from my face, but my only focus was on my sister.
Because my parents had chosen not to accompany us on this trip, my dad told me before we left that as always, I was responsible for my sister. Too excited to finally get on the road, I gave a quick nod in agreement, but didn’t take him too seriously. But here I sat next to her, unable to do anything but watch and stroke her forehead as she lay in pain. Some big brother I was.
As an older brother to two young (at least in my eyes), innocent kids, my role in their lives comes with a lot of responsibility. Like many other older siblings, I’m expected to look out for them whenever our parents aren’t around. Much to my chagrin, I’m supposed to patiently keep them out of trouble with a smile, and without using the commanding voice of a parent. In new and unfamiliar situations, like when my family decided to move churches last year, I was the one who had to take the initiative, suppress the desire to sit in the back corner in solitude and instead introduce myself and my siblings to people so they would feel comfortable.
But the role also comes with some disadvantages. My siblings have the upper hand in many things, like volleyball, as our parents are now familiar with the overall club process. But for me, I had to suffer the steps to get to that point — learning how to play the sport from my dad instead of a proper coach, participating in recreational leagues, trying to get recognized at club tryouts without saying a single word when, unknown to me at the time, the only real way to get noticed is to yell and shout. The difference is obvious when I compare my athletic career with my brother’s, who has been playing club since he was 10, amassing a fair amount of accolades along the way that I will never have.
For nearly every program my siblings are in, my parents have pushed me into two more — a constant cycle of trying new things and learning what worked well versus what miserably failed so that they don’t repeat the same mistakes with my siblings. I won’t lie and say that I’ve never felt a twinge of jealousy when they seem to coast through things when I had to weather the storms that come with inexperienced parents.
By no means am I arguing that younger siblings have it easier; they have their own slew of problems that I’m unfamiliar with. And that’s not to say that being an older sibling is all pain and no gain. Far from it. I’ve come to treasure the lessons I’ve learned and the growth I’ve experienced from fighting to make a club team and learning how to take initiative in social situations.
It’s easy to complain about all of the hardships I’ve experienced in the past 16 years as an older sibling, and even easier to argue how much better younger siblings have it in life, but I believe with maturity comes the ability to appreciate being an older sibling. Younger siblings may have more liberties as kids. They can get away with more things, start doing certain activities at a younger age, and have more freedom overall because they have an extra person watching over them. But after a certain age, at least for me, those things began to matter less, and the maturity and responsibility that older siblings naturally develop began to matter more.
And seated in that car next to my ailing sister, I realized that this was another learning opportunity, painful as it may be. It was my sister, not anybody else’s, who was sick in that van; nobody else was going to walk up and take her off of my hands. Maybe it wasn’t my fault for not bringing medicine, but I knew that no matter what happened, it was going to be me to stick things out with her.
Brian - The freedom of growing up protected
I was born with a rare advantage: not only did my parents love me, but my older sister, who was six at the time, loved me as well.
My parents have told me countless horror stories of only children threatening to run away from home if their parents had any more children. For my sister, it was the exact opposite: she’d been looking forward to having a new companion in the family for most of her young life. When I was born, she made sure to tell all her friends and teachers, bragging about her new baby brother. When my parents were busy working overtime or cooking dinner at our former apartment in Virginia, my sister took me out in a stroller and pushed me around our apartment’s parking lot, narrating a journey from an episode of “Journey to the West,” a TV show we loved to watch as kids.
It didn’t occur to me in my years as a baby, but when I reached elementary school, I understood how much my sister had cared for me. As I’ve observed countless sibling dynamics over time, in public or at parties, my sister has stood out as one of the most caring and responsible older siblings.
That isn’t to say that my entire life as a younger sibling has been smooth sailing. As a younger sibling, I’ve lost almost every single argument I’ve had with my sister. While my sister seemed able to conjure an authoritative voice at any time and refute any point I made, I stuttered or quivered in silence, fuming. I’ve been fooled by my sister countless times, from unknowingly giving her most of my allowance to believing her outlandish tales of witchcraft in the bathroom upstairs. But while the treatment I received as a younger sibling felt restricting and unfair, I’ve come to realize that being a younger sibling does come with benefits.
I can’t imagine what older siblings must go through when they transition from receiving all of their parents’ attention to receiving only a fraction of it. Older siblings often go from being showered with affection to being left on their own as parents dote on their new toddler with care. Even as siblings grow past their baby phase, older siblings are left with a memory of undivided attention while younger siblings feel little difference from what they were born into.
Beyond experiencing attention from parents, younger siblings get to reap the benefits of having more experienced parents than their older siblings had. My sister was often disciplined strictly as my parents made sure she was well-mannered and respectful. Through lecturing and occasional shouting, my parents worked to develop my sister’s maturity. In retrospect, they realized they had overlooked her cute behavior as a child and agree that they should have treated her more gently. While I got the same lectures my sister experienced, my parents made sure to provide more encouragement to me and refrained from criticizing me too harshly during my childhood.
Additionally, my parents were unsure of the degree of freedom they should allow my sister in pursuing her interests: despite her natural talent and joy of singing, my parents stopped her from joining choir and encouraged her to play clarinet in the school orchestra instead. To this day, she loves to casually sing around the house or participate in karaoke; on the other hand, she quit playing the clarinet after middle school. When it came time for me to begin selecting interests, my parents gave me as much freedom as I wanted to pursue exactly what I wanted to do, allowing me to expand on a broad range of interests. It only makes sense that as parents gain more experience and learn from mistakes, they will become more comfortable and loosen their parenting approach. This often ends up benefiting older siblings less than younger siblings, since parents are more familiar with their younger children’s situations due to experience.
Above all, younger siblings have an older sibling to turn to. Though I’ve come into countless clashes with my sister, I know that she will always be there for me. My sister has already experienced the stage of life I’m living in, and she’s passed through with her own successes and lessons learned. When I need help after a conflict with my parents or when I could use a second pair of eyes for a project I’m completing, she’s there for me.
As my sister has gone off to college, I’ve begun to notice her absence more. I’ve gotten a taste of the independence she’s been forced to live with for most of her life, the feeling of blazing trails with every path I take. Though younger siblings may be less developed in areas of independence, they’re ultimately shielded by older siblings, allowing them to grow up with a sense of unparalleled security.