I’m starting to dread Friday dress down days. When my work administration first announced them, everyone rejoiced; one teacher even gave a standing ovation. But there’s only so many casual work-appropriate outfits you can buy on a teacher’s salary, so we started recycling clothes. That’s when it became obvious that one specific type of shirt was insanely popular with my fellow teachers.
I turn the corner out of the faculty lounge and –BOOM!—there’s rainbow puzzle pieces forming the word AUTISM. Or maybe it’s the science teacher’s “I Love Someone with Autism” lanyard. Or it’s the kindergarten teacher sporting her Light It Up Blue shirt as she leads her little ones like a line of ducklings.
It’s a strange existence, being an autistic adult in a profession overflowing with autism mommy-ism and misinformation. Within these walls, everyone means well. Everyone wants to show their “support” and help raise “tolerance.” And everyone, for the most part, gets it wrong.
It’s really starting to get to me.
When I see one of my well-meaning coworkers wearing those dang puzzle pieces, I want to pull them aside and say, as politely as possible, “Autistic people don’t like puzzle pieces, because it implies that there’s a piece of us missing.”
But, of course, I don’t.
I’m dreading April. To be specific, I’m dreading the April memo asking for donations to Autism Speaks, because “we should all do our part to raise awareness.” I want to scream a long and drawn out, Darth Vader style, “NOOOO!” I want to yell loud and clear that Autism Speaks is a borderline hate group that wants to erase people like me from existence.
But I don’t.
I want to tell my special education coworkers to let A stim, because it’s not distracting anyone, and it helps him focus.
But, surprise surprise, I don’t.
I’m sure you’re starting to notice the pattern here.
Maybe I’m a coward, I don’t know. I just can’t figure out how to counter, “Well, I’m a specially trained expert with x years of experience,” with anything other than, “Well, I’m actually autistic so I have a better idea of how autistic people’s brains work.”
Call me crazy, but I’ve become accustomed to being able to feed my family. I’m scared that ableist prejudice will get me fired if I come out to the wider school community.
That’s not to say that I’m completely in the closet, so to speak. I’ve told my education team, the people who are closest to me at work. That’s helped a lot, and not just because they all told me how awesome I am. Now I get to have conversations like this one:
“One time I was talking about a student,” my teammate said, “and I called him autistic. The spec ed teacher got really mad and told me I should say child with autism.”
“You were right the first time,” I said. “Most of us would rather be called autistic.”
“Okay, good. It’s just so confusing because some people say one thing, and I don’t want to offend anybody.”
I smiled. “Trust me, autistic people aren’t offended if you call us autistic. We already got the memo. We don’t forget we’re people just because you said ‘person’ second.”
I like conversations like that one. It makes me feel like I’m helping in my own small way. Especially since there are other, dark times when I feel like my silence is selling out the autistic students at my school.
Take M, for example. One time, I observed her in her mainstream classroom. Most of the students weren’t paying attention to the math lesson, but not M. Her hand shot straight into the air, not just to answer the question, but to give a detailed explanation why.
“Stop talking so much,” her neighbor whined. “You keep saying the same stuff.”
Looking at M’s face was like looking in the mirror. I know what it feels like when someone said, “You’re repeating yourself.” M was confused because in her mind she wasn’t talking too much—she was answering the question (and I agreed with her; her answer was on point). I empathized with M. I could feel her disappointment and hurt as deeply as a physical wound, because I’ve been there, too.
At the risk of sounding arrogant, I highly doubt that my allistic coworkers would’ve spotted this blink-and-you’ll-miss-it flicker across her face. They probably thought she was fine, because she wasn’t melting down. But I saw it immediately.
Autistic children need autistic role models and mentors. They need autistic adults to help guide them through our crazy, beautiful, and often frightening world. That’s something that the “autism awareness” movement doesn’t seem to consider: the importance of autistic adults. The importance of us, the autistic folk, being the authors of our own narratives. Our role in the next generation.
I wish I could think of a solution. I love my job, and most of my colleagues, but it gets so lonely, sometimes, being autistic in this environment.
- The Hidden Strength of Autistic Moms in a Neurotypical Mom Culture - September 13, 2021
- What I Wish Neurotypicals Knew About Meltdowns - February 25, 2021
- Review: The Promise and Disappointment of Everything’s Gonna Be Okay - September 21, 2020
“We don’t forget we’re people just because you said ‘person’ second”
I love this and I will use this line to explain that to people!
There’s nothing so infuriating as allistic people lecturing me about being autistic even after I’ve told them that I am.
You love your job and enjoy your colleagues?
Would anyone be interested in creating a campaign to Last Week Tonight to get an episode in April focused on some of the serious problems with the prevailing media narratives about autism? I feel like this could be the year that autistic advocates finally break through! Recent publications are starting to empirically confirm the double empathy problem, demonstrating that our communications work just fine amongst ourselves. There’s starting to be wider recognition of how much ABA is abuse and Autism Speaks is a harmful scam. If we could just get someone like John Oliver to include the words of people like this author and Fay Fahrenheit, I think people might start seeing where we’re coming from at last.
I love that idea. Last Week Tonight would be a great platform to explain the issue.
Do you know how we would go about doing that? I’m definitely interested.
Also, have you mentioned this to anyone else or posted on the facebook page?
I posted it just now in response to another article on here. I think maybe getting it to trend on Twitter under some Last Week Tonight and John Oliver hashtags might be a start? I’m also going to put it all over autistic Reddit, and the Last Week Tonight subreddit too. I love John Oliver and saw him live in 2008. Unless I’ve gotten him totally wrong, I suspect that he will find this to be more than a good starting place for a show: https://www.adultistic.com/health/aba-therapy-treatment-or-torture
I just got the idea last night and promptly fell asleep. I think we could get his attention if we got it to trend on Twitter under some Last Week Tonight related hashtags. I’m going to post this all over autistic reddit, and also on the Last Week Tonight subreddit. I feel like there’s more than enough material for a show in this article on ABA alone… and then there’s all the smack Autism Speaks talks about us as well… and their evergreen funding streams: https://www.adultistic.com/health/aba-therapy-treatment-or-torture
Agreed, LWT would be an excellent platform for this!!
I keep posting replies to your comments and they vanish into thin air. I can’t select text without it zooming in… I hope you guys achieve nonprofit status soon and get the $ to do some web design updates!
Anyways, in response your (JudeClee28’s) comments, I only got the idea last night. I think we could get the show’s attention on Twitter if we could get this idea to trend under Last Week Tonight hashtags, along with HBO hashtags and John Oliver hashtags. I’m going to put this idea all over autistic reddit, and also on the Last Week Tonight subreddit.
Those are good ideas. If you’re on the Aspergian FB, you could post it there, or if you want, I could make a post about it.
I don’t do Facebook, so you can post about it there if you’re so inclined.
I don’t do Facebook, so you can post about it there if you’re so inclined.
This is so so good, and so incredibly eye-opening.
I resonate with every single thing in this. It’s lovely to hear from someone in the same boat.
I’m glad. One of the benefits of finding out I’m autistic is that I’ve finally found people who understand the things that made me feel so alone before. It does make such a difference hearing that other people are going through the same thing.
You say “I wish I could think of a solution.” I have a few ideas for you that may help.
A few articles for you:
Do you have any money? A few #REDinstead shirts could be excellent things to wear for Casual Friday.
Do you have access to a school printer? You can decorate your room for Autism Acceptance Month with #REDinstead and autism-positive art. I made some stock images if you’d like for starters. https://www.flickr.com/photos/misslunarose/ And you can also use any of my drawings I put in articles here: https://www.wikihow.com/Category:Autism-Spectrum
People may become curious and ask questions if you go big on #REDinstead. And that’s how you get them!
I hope this can help inspire you and give you hope that you can make a difference. Positivity is contagious. People may just follow your footsteps. 🙂
Good luck with everything!
Thanks for the advice, it is helpful. Maybe I will try a #REDInstead shirt. That’s at least a small step to help me get into the others.
That sounds nice. Even something small can make a difference. 🙂