We are Twins, but Who am I?

Can you imagine living your life with an exact replica of yourself by your side? Something like a sister or a best friend, except one that looks like you, acts like you, and even thinks like you. It sounds crazy, right? Unreal? Ridiculous? Fictional? Absurd? Bizarre?

Normal is the term I would use to describe it.

Chapter 1: The Twins or Erin or Erika or?

“Erin has the rounder face and the chubbier cheeks while Erika’s face is much slimmer,” my mom’s words roll out of her mouth on impulse in response to Mrs. Miller’s question, “What’s the difference?” I stare at Erika in hope to possibly generate a response to my soon to be kindergarten teacher’s question as well. Upon my observation I discover that; we have the same hair color, the same eye color, the same face structure, the same noses, the same mouths, and the same rosy cheeks. We’re even the same height and dressed in the exact same outfit. Puzzlement consumes me. I guess we really are the same, I think to myself as I scurry off to go play with the other kids in the extremely enticing play kitchen area that occupies my soon to be kindergarten classroom.

Mesmerized by the entourage of plastic bagels, apples, cupcakes, spaghetti dishes, ice cream cones, and more, I am interrupted by a stern voice. “You both have the same face!” Bewildered eyes examine and bombard me, shooting back and forth feverishly, from me to Erika. “Yes. We’re twins.” My words come outsubconsciously.“Woahhhh,” the voice asserts, now amused. I am observed once more. “So, you’re the same as her and she’s the same as you?” The voice asks, now curious. Remembering my mom’s response to Mrs. Miller and the thousands of others who have asked questions regarding the difference between my twin sister Erika and I, I respond. “Well I have a rounder face and chubbier cheeks than she does so, no.” “Ohhhhhhh…?” The voice utters, still confused. It goes on, “So you’re the same as her but with a rounder face and chubbier cheeks?” Puzzlement fulfills me as I look down at my 4-year-old legs and then at Erika’s across the room, as I look at my reflection peering back at me through the mirror over the make believe kitchen sink, and then across the room at Erika’s, as I look down at my pink flowered dress and then across the room at Erika’s. “Uh, yeah, I guess so,” my words tip toe off of my tongue in uncertainty.

“That’s so cool I wish there was two of me” her words strike me. “What?” “Wait?” “What?” “No!” “No, there are not two of me!” “There’s only one of me.” “I’m Erin and she’s Erika.” “There’s one Erin and there’s one Erika.” Amidst my response and talking out the confusion, I am interrupted. “Wait, her name is Erika? My name is Erica!” Instantly, Erica is off dashing over to the block station, where Erika is playing, to inform her that they share the same name. And so I stand there, alone. However, now I am not just captivated by the aroma of pretend yummy foods, I am captivated by my own thoughts. “There’s not two Erin’s and two Erika’s. There’s one Erin and that’s me. I’m Erin and my twin sister is Erika, right?” Puzzlement creeps up my my tiny body, getting ready to make itself at home as I wash the fake lettuce in the pretend sink, peering at my reflection in the mirror that hangs over it, wondering who I am and what makes me Erin, not Erika, anyway.

Chapter 2: Erin, the Cheerleader?

The sun greets me as I skip from my mom’s car to the varsity football field. It’s my first time cheerleading at an actual football game and excitement exhilarates my entire body. “Good luck ladies, you’re going to kill it,” my mom shouts out the window, but I am already encapsulated by the excitement that lay in front of me to even respond.I’m a half hour early and laughter and chatter already occupy the entirety of the football stadium, silencing the roar of the wind that strokes my rosy cheeks and excites my eager body.Stomping and quick feet scurry to and from the bleachers that are rapidly becoming occupied with bodies and I can feel eyes already falling on me. My perfect fitting skirt blows graciously with the calm wind as I flutter to the maroon cluster of North Haven cheer uniforms, high pony tales, and white ribbon. Our uniforms glisten in the sun as we assemble into our normal positions. The electrifying aroma that encapsulates the growing crowd seems to parallel the excitement growing within me. “I’m Erin, the cheerleader” I think to myself as I peer into the lively stands. The noise of the crowd dwindles, while an exhilarating intensity takes over, implying that it is in fact, the moment I’ve been practicing for, game time.

Before I know it it is half time and we are completing our half time routine. Jumping, twisting, twirling, and flipping, on the freshly cut green grass, I let the the wind lead me. With each loud chant and “G” “O” “LET’S GO INDIANS!” I become more and more empowered. All eyes are on me and only me as I tumble through the air. The sky is clear and even the wind stopped to watch me. I jump onto the palms of my teammates and am elevated into the open sky. I stand above my entire team, shoot my head back words, embrace the warmth of the sun as it gleams off of my face, and throw my pom-poms into the air signifying the end of our routine. The roaring of the crowd exhilarates me as if they are all screaming and chanting for me alone and I wave and blow kisses to my fans as I sprint off the field. Thoughts centering on the fact that cheerleading is definitely my thing captivate my mind as I float with the wind to Erika, who is standing next to another cheerleader, Riley. When I approach them, I am met with bright eyes, sweaty foreheads, and an enthusiastic and unanimous, “good job.” Riley opens her mouth and I know we're in for one of her “word vomit” sessions;

“I told you guys you would love it; I’ve been cheering for years and every time I’m out there, it’s like it’s my first time. It just takes you somewhere else, somewhere better.” Her words pour out of her mouth. She continued to speak, her big blue eyes peering into me. “You did an awesome job Erin,” she said while assuring Erika and me that she can finally tell us apart. Riley’s fixed expression made its way from my face to Erika’s, back to mine, and again to Erika’s. She studied us with a predator’s unwavering attention. “Erika, you’re more of a girly girl. You’re outgoing, cheerful, and pride yourself on your appearance. “Erin, you’re more of a tom-boy. You’re like indifferent and don’t really care how you look.” Her words shot out like an arrow that couldn’t be retracted. They were harsher than she intended and intuitively sharp, managing to stab the sense of pride and excitement that had been firm within me one-minute prior. My eyes broke off from hers and looked at the emptying bleachers behind her. The bright and exotic colors that had captivated them just ten minutes prior had disappeared and been replaced by the dull and off-white color of the stands themselves.

“You’re totally different and Cheerleading finally helped me get the differences down,” she continues, taking another jab. Her words linger in the air, hanging on every tree branch in sight casting this overarching sense of animosity and envy. Inhaling a sharp breath, I respond, “ha, yeah, I guess so,” my unsure words creep out of my mouth, as the wind pierces my skin, sending chills throughout my body. My eyes remain glued to the now empty and completely colorless bleachers until I am nudged by Erika. “That was rude, Riley said good job and bye and you didn’t respond.” “Oh, sorry I zoned out,” my words fall from my tongue intuitively. “What does it matter anyway, I’m “indifferent”and “don’t really care,”” the words, bundled in sarcasm, shoot out of my mouth, angrier than I expect. My eyes narrow to crinkled slits and the corners of mouth curl into an envious grin, as I rip my bow out of my hair and rush ahead to hop into the back seat of my mom’s car.

I stare out the window of my mom’s all black Honda CRV, as Riley’s words assemble mockingly in my mind and replay over and over again. The difference between Erika and I lies in the fact that she is outgoing, and I am not. She is proud of her appearance, and I am not. She is cheerful, and I am not.” And Riley got this all from Cheerleading? My mind races as I attempt to make sense of how Cheerleading, the sport that was supposed to be MY thing, some how just pit me as this lesser than, indifferent tomboy. Digesting her every word, this sour and bitter taste stings my tongue as I gulp hard, absorbing it all. Absorbing all of the things I am not. My mind continues to race, I’m indifferent? I’m a tom-boy? How? Why? My thoughts invade me as I pull at the collar of my uniform that now feels too tight and as if it’s choking me. I scratch my legs that are excessively itchy from the ruffles of my skirt and stare at my white sneakers that are now filthy from dirt. Explicit in the definition of a “cheerleader” is “girly-girl” yet I just got called an indifferent tom-boy, probably one of the biggest insults I could have received as a seventh grader. Cheerleading was my idea. I was the one that decided I wanted to do cheerleading but of course, Erika had to do it too. Now, all that cheerleading did was point out the differences between Erika and me. Now, all that cheerleading did was make Riley realize that Erika is the “better” twin. Screw cheerleading, Erika can have it I think to myself as I fidget with my stupid cheer uniform, wanting nothing more than to rip it off.

Chapter 3; Erin, the Twin!

Erika got all A’s once again; I better have too. My heart is in my throat as I sit on the toilet waiting for CyberFriar to load on my phone. It pounds rapidly and my hand begins to feel clammy against my bouncing knee. The very act of watching CyberFriar load taunts me and begins hurting my eyes. The tiredness that had accompanied my eyes just two minutes’ prior, is replaced by panic in its purest form. My mind races as my breathing increases. My knees tremble unremittingly, and I can feel sweat droplets making their way onto my forehead.

CyberFriar finally loaded.

0 0 11 5 6 7 0 1, I state each individual number aloud as I type in my pin for the 3rdtime, as the first 2 attempts were met with the most irritating phrase of all, “incorrect password. Please try again.” At last, it worked. I am in. I breathe in, feeling the anxiety rise within my stomach. I hold my breath, close my eyes, clench my free fist, and say, “Please God” in my head. I breathe out. Apprehension crashes in the pit of my stomach as I click “fall 2016 final grades.”

B+

A, A, A, B+.

NO. I did not get a B. Oh my God. Oh-my-God. I did. I got a B. Erika got all A’s and I got a B, a B. I. got. a. B. I am officially the dumber twin on paper. Worse, I am officially the dumber twin, period. I officially have a lower GPA than Erika. I hate myself. My thoughts imprison me to the toilet seat. Panic rises like bile in my body and I think I actually might vomit. Dizziness binds me.

I can’t move. I can’t breathe. I can’t talk. I can’t breathe. I can’t see. I can’t breathe. I can’t hear. I can’t breathe. I can’t believe that my nightmare has come to life and I am currently living it. That’s what this is, a nightmare, an absolute nightmare. My heart thuds in my chest. My vision blurs. My feet tingle. My mouth grows dry. My chest aches. My stomach churns. My throat closes.

My vision narrows to a pinhole and my eyes cloud. I look at the screen of my phone once again in hopes that I have read it wrong; in hopes that I did not get a B; in hopes that I have not just solidified the fact that I am the dumber twin via our final transcripts.

B+

My blurry eyes scan my phone screen once again only to further ignite the complete panic scorching within me. I drop my phone to the floor and stare sightlessly at the wall.

A voice interrupts my trance. It’s Erika, “Did you check your grades yet?”

I gulp hard, forcing the lump of anxiety clogged in my throat down. I breathe in and then out, dazed in semi-consciousness. “Ye…” The words refuse to come out of my mouth unless they are accompanied by tears. My eyes oblige. Once the first tear breaks, the rest follow in an unleashed stream. Warm torments of complete and utter desolation run down my cheeks and stain my face.

“I…I…I got a B.” Hearing these words aloud makes the reality of the situation all too real. This is not a nightmare. This is reality. The air surrounding me has become too thick to swallow and I can no longer control my breath. Choking on the air I’m inhaling, uncontrollable sobs begin jolting out of my mouth. Erika opens the bathroom door, and upon seeing the epitome of who I’m supposed to be, of who I should be, of who I could be, I collapse to the floor, dejected, helpless, and numb with the realization that I am the dumb twin, and now there would be documentation to prove it.

Erika’s pained eyes observe me as she drops to the floor and throws her arms around me. I know she can hear me silently screaming, suffocating with each breath I take holding onto my wavering pride. She runs her fingers through my hair, in an attempt to calm the silent war within my mind that she, too, experiences all too often. It is painful for her to see me like this. I know. I’ve been there. All she can do is embrace me and let the torrent of my tears soak through her shirt. She is the problem and the solution. She is the reason why I am currently laying on the floor, yet she is the only person who can pick me up. She is the only person that understands. She is the only person that gets it. “It’s not that big of a deal. It’s a B, actually a B+. B’s are good. “You’re so smart Er. You know you’re the smarter twin and you’re so optimistic. I wish I was as optimistic as you. You graduated 21stin our class, I graduated 27th. If the final project was a paper instead of a group project, you would have gotten an A, you’re such a better writer than me! So what, you’re the twin that got the first B in college. I’ll probably get one next semester. Her words trip and tumble over her own tongue and enter my dejected mind. While everyone else would look at me condescendingly and say, “You’re that upset because you got a B,” she wouldn’t. She knew what I was feeling. She had felt it too. She understood that it wasn’t merely the B that upset me; it was the fact that, she, my identical twin sister, had gotten an A. She picks my desolate body up off the floor and wipes my eyes. I breathe in and force a fake smile. “Is that a smile I see???” Her compassionate eyes radiate a gentle understanding and she squeezes me tight. Upon feeling her body compressed firmly against mine, I feel this warm sense of ease enter my quivering body. I rest my head on her shoulder and let the familiar strawberry scent of her hair inhabit my nose. Swiftly, she moves me to arms length, tells me that everything is going to be okay, and then pulls me back into a hug. That’s exactly what I’ve told her so many times which is how I know she means it, just as I always do. “Seriously Er, I was ranked 6 whole spots behind you in our high school class. Talk about “being considered the dumber twin”….remember how sad I was?” I do. I remember it clearly, her tears, holding her, stroking her hair, telling her everything was going to be okay. I remember it all. My muscles relax under her grip as I realize that we need each other. I need her for moments like this, just as she needs me. I know that today she is my shoulder to cry on, although tomorrow I might be hers, and she knows it too. I close my eyes and let the weight of my head lay on her shoulder as my thoughts race. I haven’t said anything, I don’t have to. I know she can hear my thoughts; she has had the same thoughts countless times. And so, we stand there in the bathroom, silently, hugging each other, embracing each other, me leaning on her, and her leaning on me.

ANALYSIS

(feel free to read my analysis, I’ve kept it attached because it offers clarity and explanations to things readers may be confused on or neglected to pick up on)

1.) Brieflydefine your rhetorical situation: you intended audience, your intended message or theme, and the ethos/persona you present as the rhetor or author.

· My intended audience is both the wider population and twins in general, especially identical twins. Essentially, while there are numerous sets of twins in this world, “twin awareness” is something that goes widely unrecognized or talked about, and thus, the “internal” struggles of being a twin are ones that go unrecognized and confronted. Because of this, twins are left to figure out how to distinguish themselves as individuals without completely rejecting their “twin-ness,” which is an extremely difficult task, as demonstrated throughout my story.

· My intended message is that twins can identify as “twins” without loosing individuality. It centers around the internal struggles that identical twins face while growing up. Essentially, twins have a much harder time figuring out who they are and distinguishing themselves as individuals. Throughout my paper, I show the loss of individuality twins face as they are constantly compared and viewed as “one in the same.” I depict the struggles that twins face as they yearn desperately for a sense of individuality and seek this through difference. My overall, theme, however, is that being a twin is something that you cannot escape, as it is apart of you. Thus, again, my message is that twins can identify as “twins” without losing their individuality. They don’t need to be different in order to establish themselves as individuals and can actually take solace in the “sameness” that they share.

· The ethos/ persona that I present as the author is the fact that I am, in fact, an identical twin and each chapter represents an internal struggle that I actually faced while growing up as a twin.

2.) Analyze your style:identify at least 2 literary devices and their intended effects. How do these choices reinforce the theme of your work?

· Figurative language:Synecdoche, representing a part for a whole. In Chapter 1, “The Twins or Erin or Erika or”?I use synecdoche when referring to Erica as merely a voice. In referring to her as merely a voice, not an individual with agency, I am depicting the fact that I get told “you look the same” so much that it becomes simply a voice to me, nothing more.

· Imagery:In Chapter 2, “Erin, the Cheerleader?”I create images by describing the setting and or scene. I contrast between light vs dark, open vs closed, and familiar vs unfamiliar to demonstrate the change that occurs within me. Essentially, through imagery of the setting, I use the setting as an anchor to show change in me. At first, the sun greets me, I skip, I’m so excited, I can’t even respond to my mom, the wind is calm and “strokes” my face, there is an electrifying aroma, and the stands are bright, colorful, and occupied. These are all details that demonstrate both how happy and content I am to be cheering along with my familiarity, openness to my environment as a whole. I continue to feel happy when I'm cheering, and finally feel as if I have distinguished myself as an individual through cheerleading. I depict this through my description of my half time routine. For instance, jumping, twisting, twirling and flipping are meant to depict me as “free” or as someone who has found her individuality. The clearness of the sky, the wind stopping to watch me, me standing above my entire team, my head shooting backwards and embracing the sun gleaming on my face, my feelings that the crowd is only cheering for me and all eyes are only on me, are all details meant to show and really highlight how I feel special and like an individual, not merely a twin. However, the setting becomes very unfamiliar, closed and dark, once Riley says“Erika, you’re more of a girly girl. You’re outgoing, cheerful, and pride yourself on your appearance and “Erin, you’re more of a tom-boy. You’re like indifferent and don’t really care how you look,” to depict how that sense of individuality that I had just felt had once again disappeared as I was once again compared to my twin sister.The setting changes to show this feeling of sadness/ anger/ closed-ness. Now I describe the bleachers as being empty, with no color, and the at first calming wind as cold, chilling and piercing. Essentially, just as the setting changed and went from happy to sad, or light to dark, so did I.  Ultimately, through setting I'm showing that I thought in order to be an individual I had to be different or find something that made me, me. However, what I find is that I can't escape being a twin as it is apart of who I am. In ending with "Screw cheerleading, Erika can have it I think to myself as I fidget with my stupid cheer uniform, wanting nothing more than to rip it off,” I’m depicting my hatred for cheerleading as I have just found that nothing I do will ever rid me of being a twin/ being compared. As well as, showing that the one thing I thought defined me as an individual, actually only served to further compare me to my sister, define me as a twin, and pit me as the “lesser than” twin.

· Syntax and Punctuation:In Chapter 3, “Erin, The Twin!” I use both syntax and punctuation to depict that I am in fact having a panic attack. Instead of merely stating, “I was having a panic attack” I use short sentences, to depict shortness of breath and anxiety. Every other sentence I state, “I can’t breathe” to demonstrate one of the key symptoms in a panic attack; inability to breathe. Additionally, I refer to other key symptoms of panic attacks such as chest pain, nausea, sweating, heart palpitations, felling like I’m being choked, chills, stomach churning, shaking, impaired vision, tingling sensations, throat closing etc. to further depict the fact that I was having a panic attack.

3.) Analyze form:identify at least 2 significant aspects of your chosen from: What is you genre/medium and why? What narrative choices did you make when plotting your central conflict and why?

· My story is a coming of age story and is about coming to terms with being a twin, with my my central conflict being a self vs self. Thus, the form I used was three different chapters to represent three different periods of my life and my coming of age. The first, was kindergarten orientation, the second was 7thgrade, and the third was college. Each story represents the different struggles twins face internally growing up at different stages of their life, as well as the conclusions drawn from each struggle. Chapter 1, “The Twins or Erin or Erika or?”takes place at kindergarten orientation. Here I come to this realization that I’m seen as simply a twin, not an individual. I’m trying to distinguish who I am but I cannot, I don’t even know what makes me, me. Then 7thgrade comes along, which is where chapter 2, “Erin, the Cheerleader?”takes place. Here I’m trying to distinguish myself as an individual and prove that being a twin doesn’t define me, as I don’t want to be identified merely as a twin. Thus, I feel like I need to be different from Erika, or find something that makes me, me to define myself as an individual. However, in trying to be an individual, I still get dissed and told in essence, “I’m the opposite of who I think I am.” Thus, what I find is that, “being a twin” is a part of who I am, and I cannot escape it. Finally, the last chapter, chapter 3, “Erin, the Twin! takes place first semester of sophomore year in college. Here I realize that instead of needing to be different I take solace in the ways in which we are the same. I end up embracing the sameness and realizing that being a twin is apart of me. I realize that I don’t need to fight that really close connection I have with my twin and I find that I can identify as a twin without losing my individuality.

4.) Put yourself in conversation with at least 1 of the writers we’ve read this semester; who is your major influence for this project and why?

· My major influence for this project was Richard Wright because I too, used various scenes from my life to depict coming to terms with being a twin just as he did from his own life to depict coming to terms with being a black boy in America. Just as he used various stories throughout his own life to depict the various struggles he faced at different periods of his life, as well as the conclusions draw from these struggles to create a coming of age story, so, too did I.

5.) Describe one thing you learned about yourself wile crafting the project.

· One thing that I realized about myself while crafting this story was that being a twin is a part of who I am and I can identify as a twin without losing my individuality. I realized that I would not be the person I am today, if it weren’t for my twin sister Erika. In fact, I realized that I would not be as smart, driven, motivated, etc., if I did not have a twin sister to push me to continuously work harder and harder.