2 thoughts on “Haters”

1. Call me an aspie supremacist if you like, but I feel like I’m concerned with the opposite of your worries.

   You say that in the 1990s, neurodiversity was limited to the more able autistic people, and that this is bad because some of us are disabled. OK, so what exactly do you have to LIKE about being genuinely disabled and impaired?

   I agree that severely autistic people are left out of autism discussions; it’s very easy for the more able people to speak over and for them (and I don’t mean that I or a parent should be speaking for them instead). If someone is severely autistic, they still should have their wishes taken seriously.

   But it annoys me when people think that the best way to do this is to a) advocate for “neurodiversity for the genuinely disabled” or b) ignore the real issues disabled people face so that the more able people get all the attention.

   When I first heard about neurodiversity, I was in favour of it BECAUSE it wasn’t about disability. It (falsely) allowed me to think that autism wasn’t a disability, because, look at all these savant skills and all the philosophical advantages of not being properly socialized!

   I don’t want to cure the good bits of being autistic, but I can’t say enjoy the bad bits.

   Now, however, I realize that I’d have to lie to myself and become an aspie supremacist to fully engage with neurodiversity, because autism IS a disability.

   Claiming autism is just as “different” as being left-handed may fly when the only experience you have of autism is people like myself with no significant language delay, but it falls apart once you realize that even the likes of Temple Grandin spent years doing something as basic as learning to speak.

   So instead, I have to reluctantly admit that I’m a person with a disability, just like everyone else, and that no amount of acceptance is going to make the weirdness go away completely.

   Instead, I have to realize that no, not all of my social failures are somebody else’s fault, and I either have to challenge orthodoxy and risk my health in pursuit of some sort of temporary cure, or learn social skills the hard way, like I’m learning how to bow in Japan.

   Instead, we have to realize that able autistic people can’t go on
   defending severely autistic people while ignoring their problems.

   Maybe we have to realize that wherever we are on the spectrum, actually, no, random bigots on the street won’t change their social attitudes about autistic people overnight, and we’d rather be happy and socially adept than out.

   Instead, those of us who are more able, once we’ve accepted the fact that our own prejudices aren’t all that different from those of an Autism Parent, might nevertheless acknowledge that if you’re severely autistic, you’d actually benefit from knowing how to behave in public so that you grow up to be Temple Grandin and not Care Home Patient No. 123.

   Instead, maybe we need to acknowledge that maybe, actually, no, we don’t like our autism when it means we have to spend three hours looking for something in front of us, or get upset at happy party because it’s too overstimulating, or ignore people because our subconcious tells us that someone who smiles at us is glaring at us.

   Instead, maybe we need to acknowledge that, actually, not being able to speak or hear or see isn’t great so long as The Man is out of the way, it’s just shit, and in the absence of a cure, some people are going to have to put up with it anyway.

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2. See, this is complicated, but here goes.

   First off: apologies for the delay, I was getting mobbed hard for several years, and had to let this site go dormant while I dealt with all that. Things are better now, hopefully.

   To answer your question, though? I don’t think it’s as simple as “severe” or “mild,” or whichever equivalents are used. For example, I’m semi-verbal, and was diagnosed as severe from all indications in the fourth grade. (There’s no way to confirm the records, because they destroy school records after six years in this state.) I still am, in a way: it takes a lot of effort to function in society, and I lose speech regularly. (Autism + selective mutism + mild general anxiety, triggered by social oppression.) That’s the clinical diagnosis – I went ahead and got assessed again, both for medical purposes, if/when it’s needed (I’m 62), and for personal ones (such as conversations like this one!)

   Am I disabled? You bet. Did I self-diagnose? Well, sort of, because of the records being destroyed. That said, there’s a lot of things that I’ve benefitted from via diagnosis, because I got lucky and found a good, experienced specialist. But that’s me.

   In any case, good to meet you! As long as you’re not a Trumper or Aspie supremacist, you’re good people in my book.

   All my best,

   solidad

   Reply

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