STORY + IMAGES BY MARILYN LEAL
Published on June 3, 2025
Donovan is my younger brother, he’s 15 and lives in the South Bronx. He has autism.
For the past 5 months, I have been documenting him and trying to understand his mind and understanding the perspective of the world he lives in. I capture his silence, his routines, what brings him comfort, and what doesn’t. I’ve noticed his gentle, funny, and curious side, even if he doesn’t always show it in ways people expect. The way he expresses himself isn’t always obvious to others. I’ve learned that Donovan expresses himself differently—and that’s okay.
I want to see how his world is shaped, how he experiences it through his own eyes. I’ve noticed how he expresses himself isn’t always the way people expect or obvious to understand.
With his neurological condition, there’s often an issue that people judge or assume things without understanding how hard it can be for him to communicate or feel safe. Others might see his behaviors as strange or difficult. But now I understand—it’s not that he doesn’t care. He shows love differently. There were moments when he let me in—when he let me help him, or simply sit beside him. Moments like That meant everything. This came when I stopped trying to make him fit into my world, and instead just learned how to be present in his.
During this project I started to see pieces of his language, like a puzzle. I realized that closeness with him didn’t come in typical ways. It came when he let me help him with something. When he trusted me enough to let me into his routine. It came when I understood that our environment we both live in was viewed differently from his eyes, his toys, books, and room. And he simply let me join.
Donovan’s autism doesn’t separate us—it gives us a different way to connect. Donovan has learned so much. But more than that, he’s taught us. Most importantly He’s taught my family to slow down, to pay attention, to celebrate every small step. He’s helped us see the world differently—patiently, more honestly. I’m learning to communicate in ways that help him feel safe and understood.He’s been through a lot. And he’s worked so hard—to grow, to communicate, to adapt. I know it hasn’t been easy. But he’s doing it, one step at a time. Every day, we try to learn what excites him, what calms him, and how to help him navigate a world that wasn’t built with kids like him in mind.
Autism doesn’t define Donovan. It’s just one part of the amazing person he is. And as he grows, we’ll grow with him—supporting him, standing by him, and celebrating each moment.
He’s taught us that loving someone with autism means accepting them completely and fighting for the world to see them with the same love and respect.
Sometimes there are moments when the world is too loud, too fast, or just too much. And in those moments, we can be someone they can trust. Making each other feel safe and included.