There’s Something About Twins

By Jennifer Z.

There seems to be something about twins that never fails to draw intrigued glances and the question, “Identical or fraternal?” Some claim it is that famed “twin telepathy,” others their shared birthday, age, and grade in school, and still others the relative rarity of birthing multiples. But being a twin myself—and one in especially unique circumstances—I know that the bond I share with my twin sister means more to me than any of this. 

As is somewhat common for multiples, my twin sister Ashley and I were born three months premature in October 2004. I quickly developed retinopathy of prematurity and subsequently underwent numerous surgeries to prevent blindness, and now I possess about 20/300 vision in both eyes with correction. Meanwhile, though Ashley also underwent eye surgery at a young age, she now possesses excellent vision. In a previous article written for the January 2022 Sightlines newsletter, I discussed my own challenges, goals, and personal growth as a teenager with visual impairment, but now I wish to pay homage to my sister, for much of what I have accomplished in my lifetime would not have been possible without her unwavering support.

In my time working with the Pediatric Retinal Research Foundation, I have come to realize that, in families such as mine, there can be a certain amount of alienation between siblings when one has a prevalent disability, no matter their age or other similarities. The disabled sibling may, for example, be excluded from certain activities in which the non-disabled siblings can participate. Stephanie Brennell wrote a wonderfully inspiring article for the July 2022 newsletter that highlights her own young sons, two of whom are twins, and the success they have had in dealing with this very fact. Still, when it comes to such families, any number of scenarios are possible, and they can greatly affect the growth of all siblings involved and the relationship that they develop as they grow older. As Ashley and I are now seniors in high school, I hope that I can offer some insight into how we have both grown as best friends and as individuals and how our relationship remains as strong as it was ten years ago.

Aside from the obvious advantages of being the same age and gender, there are many factors to which I can attest that have allowed Ashley and I to grow so close. For one, my parents have always treated Ashley and me in the same way—they have afforded us the same opportunities, encouraged us to do the same activities, and pushed us toward the same goals. As children we never stopped to consider how we were different; it was more about how we were similar, how we shared the same likes and dislikes, the same friends, the same teachers, and the same experiences. We spent nearly every waking moment together, and (barring the occasional sisterly argument), we always got along. 

There is much to be said about this kind of constant interaction. The hard truth is that visually impaired children are growing up in a world of sighted people, and it is imperative that they be afforded opportunities to interact with and share the same experiences as sighted children. To that end, if it is possible, building supportive relationships with siblings who are near in age should be encouraged, for it can greatly alter the way the visually impaired child perceives the world and the way the world perceives him or her. During my childhood, for example, I was never without Ashley, especially when it came to school—we had classes together, ate lunch together, and played with friends together. As the years went on, I became known not as the girl with large papers and strange magnifiers but simply as one half of the Zuckerman twins. In short, Ashley was the one who made me feel “normal,” and—early on at least—I imagine she was also the one who made me appear “normal” to other kids. She saw past my visual impairment and treated me as she would any other sister, and in doing so she helped other kids to treat me as they would any other elementary-school-aged girl.

That is not to say that helping visually impaired children meet and interact with one another cannot also be immensely beneficial, for it can relieve feelings of loneliness and isolation and offer some reassurance that one is not alone in facing the challenges of visual impairment. In fact, I wonder how my perspective might be different had I met someone like me as a child. That being said, I personally do not recall ever longing to meet another visually impaired girl when I was younger. Instead, I was content to know that I had my twin sister who understood my disabilities and my insecurities, and I was—and still am—more focused on adapting to the sighted world and interacting with sighted people.

Now, as Ashley and I enter our senior year of high school, our relationship has taken on a whole new meaning. We still have some classes together, we still eat lunch together, and we still have many of the same friends, and still Ashley remains my biggest supporter and most trusted confidante; yet our lives are swerving in very different directions as we build our own identities and pursue our own goals. Though part of me knows that I cannot afford to be so dependent on her any longer, I still cannot imagine what my life will be like in a year, for then I will be in college, confronted with new surroundings, new people, and new challenges, and—solely because of my visual impairment—nothing terrifies me more. Truthfully, for as long as I can remember, it has been a dream of mine to share a dorm with Ashley, and that is not only because of how much fun it would be to decorate our room together. As this is not likely to happen, though, it will be up to me to establish my own identity at the school of my choice, in addition to tackling practical challenges that come with learning a new environment. That being said, whether I am preparing for my first day of college classes or my first day at a new job, I know that Ashley, who has never failed to understand—or, to the best of her ability, attempt to understand—and support me when I find myself in an unnerving situation, will be merely a phone call away.

I truly feel that, were it not for Ashley—and for my parents, who encouraged Ashley to help me in these ways—I would not have been so readily accepted among my peers throughout my school career and would not have adapted to the sighted world so easily. I hope that every child who is disabled in some way can develop this sort of relationship with a sibling, for it is perhaps the most valuable—or invaluable—relationship that I have. I can honestly say that I would not be the person I am today without the incredible friendship and steadfast support that Ashley has given me over the years.