My 

sister is the 
strongest 
person 
I 

know. 
On 

March 12, 2014, 
she 
was 
the 

victim of a head-on 
collision that should 
have sent her Pontiac’s 
engine into the cabin 
of her car and cut her in 
half. Instead, miraculously, 
it didn’t, and Kasandra is still 
here to laugh a little too loud 
and keep me in line. To say I 
love her is an understatement.

While 
Kasandra’s 

unbelievable 
survival 
is 

something my family celebrates 
every day, she suffered extensive 
injuries. Since the accident she’s 
had three invasive hip surgeries. 
The first two operations fixed her torn 
labrums — one in each hip socket — and the 
third, recent procedure was to re-open her right hip to 
remove a massive calcium deposit.

Each of these surgeries has left her homebound for 

weeks, unable to bathe and clothe herself without our 
mother’s help, and in an extreme amount of pain. Though 
I’m confident Kasandra will make a complete recovery to 
full mobility, there will still be setbacks. By the end of the 
ordeal, she’ll have been robbed of more than two years 
in her 20s due to surgeries and painful recovery because 
of the other driver’s carelessness. Even at the end of 
Kasandra’s recovery, she’ll never again be able to run and 
jump like she otherwise would have been able to.

Kasandra has an undying determination to continue 

to live beyond her current limitations and put both 
feet forward as best she can. She still dresses up and 
goes out, albeit with her hip brace attached over all her 
dresses. Kasandra needs help putting her right shoe on 
and someone to condition her hair in the kitchen sink. 
She always needs to find a table that can accommodate 
her wheelchair, an elevator to get to the train platform, a 
sidewalk even enough to get down the street. And though 
it would be so much easier to stay home and sulk, my sister 
doesn’t.

I have always drawn strength from my sister. I’m a 

believer 
in 
fate: 
I 

think destiny exists and there 
is 

a reason Kasandra is the older sibling. She has been the 
only person to unquestionably stay by my side through 
everything since I was born. Kasandra is both my role 
model and my best friend, and shows me every day — 
especially now — that strength is not inherent. No one is 
born strong. Instead, people are given the opportunity to 
be strong.

I can’t begin to imagine how much easier it would be 

to never leave the house. Getting ready for anything 
takes so much more effort for Kasandra than it used to, 
and honestly, if I were in her place, I don’t know that I 
would have the will to keep on going the way she has. 
Between the painful at-home hip exercises and powerful 
pain medications at the beginning of each recovery, I don’t 
know where she gets the stamina to do it all.

Even more amazing to me is her mental recovery during 

this period. After such a traumatic experience, I can’t 
fathom what it must have been like to get back in a car and 
drive through the spot where the other driver crossed into 
her lane.

Her persistence is a large part of the reason why I finally 

decided to come out this past summer. Though I don’t 
know how I would act if I were in my sister’s place, seeing 
her have the continued determination to live beyond the 

hand she was dealt gave 
me the courage to finally be 

honest with both myself and 

everyone I know. I realized that 

if Kasandra could wake up each 

day and face the world and all its 
challenges for her circumstances, so 
could I.

Kasandra has always shown me 

what it means to be a strong person. 
It isn’t easy, but I now know that it’s 

worth it. Every challenge she has faced, 

even before her accident, has made my sister 

the incredibly tenacious person she is today. 
It’s because she has met each obstacle with the 
courage to do right and the will to keep going 
that I know she will recover in both body and 
spirit. She is, in short, unstoppable.

That doesn’t mean, however, there haven’t been 

moments of struggle. I’ve seen her frustration with 
the accident, the three surgeries, the dependence 

she’s had on others and the enormity of everyday 

tasks for her. It’s so incredibly difficult to watch 

those you love suffer through pain for the hope of an 

easier future, but Kasandra has this fire in her that never 
ceases to burn. My sister is a force, a fierce woman and an 
individual. Needless to say, she isn’t usually one to ask for 
help unless she really needs it.

Watching my sister go through this ordeal has made 

me realize that strength does not always equate to 
independence. In fact, it often means the opposite. Being 
strong doesn’t mean standing alone and above everyone. 
It’s recognizing that you need help and asking for it. It’s 
being patient when it would be so easy to fall apart. It’s 
having the determination to keep living.

Through my whole life Kasandra has shown me 

how important it is to be independent, persistent and 
unapologetically individual. Not a single day goes by 
where I think of how horribly altered my life would have 
been if the car engine had entered the cabin and ended her 
life. In a lot of ways, it would have ended mine too. I would 
have lost my best friend, my only sibling, my greatest hero.

I’m so incredibly fortunate to still find her support 

and undying love. My sister gives me hope that there are 
people in this world filled with compassion and courage, 
determination and strong will, strength. And every day, 
she reminds me that I can be one of them.

Wednesday, October 19, 2016 // The Statement
6B

by Brandon Summers-Miller,
Daily Staff Reporter

ILLUSTRATION BY SHANE ACHENBACH

W

h

y 

m

y

 

s

i

s

t

er

 

i

s

 

m

y

 h

ero

