Rachael Albert, Senior, Assistant Editor
My brother and I were born two years apart and grew up during the golden age of technology. We did not rely on it for entertainment but enjoyed playing Mario Kart and Minecraft when the mood hit. This, of course, meant we led very normal, suburban childhoods. Every school morning we read Calvin and Hobbes comics while eating breakfast our father prepared. Siblings are conditioned to have the same interests and forced to bond over them by adults, and it works for a while, but they will inevitably want nothing more than to destroy each other.
My brother and I used to watch TV together, taking turns picking the show and compromising on what volume to keep it at. But he soon found that if he put the television on volume 100, I would send myself screaming to my room. And after he became skilled enough on his clarinet to play a cacophony, he did not have to rely on technology to upset me with loud noise.
There is a point that you realize the relationship is changing but choose to ignore it because you would do anything to spend time with your sibling. Games turn from being fun to being exploitative to not existing at all. One of our “games” involved my brother bribing me with Pez candies to do chores for him. I would report to headquarters (his room) and eagerly await my assignment. After the task was discussed, the bartering began. “C’mon, that’s a three Pez job, taking out the trash AND the recycling?” “No, no, it’s not that bad. Two Pez,” he would say, and I complained. “Two Pez. Final offer.” I conceded. I couldn’t compete with the elite bargaining skills my brother had developed by existing for two years more than me.
Siblings understand when they no longer play as equals, but no one is prepared when they stop playing altogether. I resented being forced to grow up on my brother’s schedule. When he decided he was done playing Legos with me, I had to be done, too. My parents never told him “Go play with your sister.” At this stage, a child has not bridged the gap between the youth of wanting to play and the maturity of being able to entertain oneself. I spent my Saturdays lying on the living room couch complaining of boredom. I understood that my brother wanted nothing to do with me, and so I resigned and pretended I wanted nothing to do with him, either. The only time we passed together was spent arguing and often ended in physical violence. Fights would escalate from throwing napkins to throwing punches and, at this stage in development, age was a larger influence on strength and fitness than exercise was.
When my brother began college across the Atlantic, our interactions became limited as we grew and learned separately. Physical distance does not force siblings to stop fighting; it forces them to play a battle of wits. Despite my brother being only two years older than me, he was three grades ahead of me in school. He has always been book smart and an eloquent speaker, so I avoided arguments when we were young because I knew I would lose. However, now I am no longer unlearned and can hold my own against my brother for the ultimate test: gaining the approval of our father. I have discovered, over the years, that much of what my father says is nonsense, yet to gain his favor in an argument against my brother makes me a champion. When your sibling concedes to your father, you know you have won.
We are born to rival our siblings; it is a question of survival. Children naturally compete in order to keep themselves alive. I throw shot put to feel stronger than my brother and take AP English to feel smarter than him. I try to out-perform him in everything, but I have to give him credit because without him, I would be a worse athlete and a worse writer. Siblings fight, but if rivaling each other is what makes them strive for greatness, then it is not a terrible thing.