Currently viewing the tag: "blogging against disablism day"

so this is it (BADD 2011)

By On May 1, 2011 · 8 Comments

The conversation usually goes one of two ways:

The first:
Me: Yeah, I went to this [autism related thing].
Other person, joking: Ha! What if they mistook you for autistic? That would be so funny.
Me: Er, I presume they did, since I am.
Other person: No way. You can talk [or work or live independently or cook my own food].
Me: Officially diagnosed and everything*. Autism is a very broad spectrum of people with difficulties communicating and socializing typically, and we’re as individual as anyone else.

The second:
Me: Yeah, I went to this [autism related thing].
Other person, joking: Ha! What if they mistook you for autistic? That would be so funny.
Me: Er, I presume they did, since I am.
Other person: Oh. I would never have guessed. You are such a good example for people with autism.
Me: You know that’s really demeaning to everyone else with autism, right?

I am discomforting to people not familiar with social justice and disability rights. I am the worst sort of disabled person, because I have an invisible disability and I can fake being neurotypical, at least for a while. I am a secret spy for the disability community, come to infiltrate the temporarily able world at large with my sarcasm and socially unremarkable stims. I call them out on their language and attitudes and then have the audacity to reveal I have fooled them all along. This does not usually go over well (see above).

I have spent the past three months officially in this position, and it does not get less awkward.

So I thought I’d talk about ways I would prefer this conversation to go. Bear in mind that this is relevant only to conversations with me, as I cannot speak for the broader autism community, and autism is a special interest of mine, so I have a lot of facts ready to be provided on request.

Me: Yeah, I went to this [autism related thing].
Other person, joking: Ha! What if they mistook you for autistic? That would be so funny.
Me: Er, I presume they did, since I am.
Other person: Really? I didn’t know–sorry, didn’t mean to joke about a sensitive topic.
Me: It’s okay. There are a lot of adults like me on the spectrum, though, who may not be read as neurodivergent but really are. You might want to consider that before speaking.

This is sort of the baseline of what I would consider a good conversation on the topic. When someone comes out to you in some way, revealing a sexuality, gender ID, neurodivergence, what have you, that you didn’t previously know about and have been making fun of, it is a good thing to apologize. If you are making fun of it after knowing, then you’re an asshole.

Me: Yeah, I went to this [autism related thing].
Other person, joking: Ha! What if they mistook you for autistic? That would be so funny.
Me: Er, I presume they did, since I am.
Other person: You know, I wondered about that. You can be very [negative stereotype--usually "emotionally distant" or "stand-offish" for me].
Me: Well, that’s a stereotype–there are a lot associated with autism, many of which are only the tiniest bit true. I might seem stand-offish, but I’m really just trying to [listen/understand what's being said/ignore sensory imput/reduce my anxiety levels/work out when it's my turn to talk].

I think it’s a very human thing to relate what we abstractly know to personal situations. When I tell people I’m autistic, it probably makes sense to relate it to what my interlocutor knows about autism (usually precious little). While this pattern can be annoying, it gives us the opportunity for learning and growth–something I’m usually up for helping with.

Me: Yeah, I went to this [autism related thing].
Other person, joking: Ha! What if they mistook you for autistic? That would be so funny.
Me: Er, I presume they did, since I am.
Other person: Oh. I thought that was a thing kids have.
Me: Kids grow up, and a lot of the behaviours that people associate with autism are things kids on the spectrum do, but not all or even most adults on the spectrum do. We can learn and grow perfectly fine, we just do it atypically. I’m 26, so my experience is going to be different than that of a six year old.
Other person: That makes a lot of sense. What is autism like for you?

This is one of my favourites. The huge push for autism awareness has created a background awareness for a lot of people, but it’s awareness of the wrong sort. Simple statistics would reveal that more people on the spectrum are adults than not, but the focus is on what autism looks like in very young children. This obviously leads to the assumption that either you outgrow it, die from it, or you remain just like a three year old forever and ever. I’m not a little kid anymore! Even if I have to remind you of that, being aware that autism is different for each of us is appreciated.

Me: Yeah, I went to this [autism related thing].
Other person, joking: Ha! What if they mistook you for autistic? That would be so funny.
Me: Er, I presume they did, since I am.
Other person: Interesting. So [have you seen the new whatever/done something I'd spoken about previously/read this awesome book/something totally unrelated]?

Autism awareness will begin to shift into acceptance when I can tell someone that I’m autistic and it doesn’t make a damned bit of difference in how they interact with me.

*I’m a fan of self-diagnosis and was comfortably self-diagnosed for years. Had I not had the opportunity to sit an eval for free, I probably still would be self-diagnosed. Unfortunately, the sorts of people who insist I cannot be really autistic place a lot of weight on official labels.

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that lazy old truth

By On May 2, 2010 · 1 Comment

Multi-topic post!

1. I will be on a plane in less than 24 hours.

2. No one has opinions on a new theme? You guys suck.

3. I’m just getting around to reading some posts from BADD. Here are some reccomendations to start:

Kitty’s post about miracle cure themes in kidlit
The self-pity model
Of privilege and auditory processing (I’m very lucky that my auditory processing is relatively good for the spectrum.)
Public transport and disability in Melbourne

4. An interesting piece about listening to patients (I know, it’s such a bananas idea!)

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we've got such important things to do

By On May 1, 2010 · 9 Comments

Even Blogging Against Disablism Day can’t stop the Kate lyrics.

To paraphrase Stina: either words have meaning or they don’t.

Let me flesh that out for you a little bit. I believe that words are impactful, and that our word choices reflect a combination of our backgrounds, our individual lives, and our education on a given topic. Becoming aware of one’s word choices and actively changing them requires acknolwedgement of privilege and a desire to mitigate that privilege.

There has been talk on Jezebel, a website I usually enjoy, about why words matter. We talk about why it’s not okay to use sexist language every day. There have been discussions about feminism vs womanism (especially in the comments section) and tokenism. Discussions are held about racism regularly. Fat shaming is verboten, and lengthy educational discussions are held by the commentariat regularly. It’s a pretty damn nice place to be out as queer on the internet (though it’s not quite as good about trans issues). We also talk about a specific subset of ableist language, namely eating disorders and body dysmorphia.

All of these are good things. Jezebel is a mainstream, very busy website run by paid bloggers. While there are safe-space websites to discuss these issues (Racialicious and Shapely Prose are both good places to start for racism and sizism, respectively), I think having them discussed in a busy, largely privileged place is helpful and important.

In my experience, a lot of people who are otherwise liberal and well educated don’t know a thing about ableism. Words that are ableist are part of many people’s regular vocabulary, and they never give them a second thought. This BADD, I’d like to maybe put the idea into people’s heads that these words aren’t okay.

There’s a thread of ableism in many Jez posts where other language could and should be used instead. I don’t think it would be fair to call out commenters, so I’m going to limit these references to posts which use ableist language, themselves. This is not a comprehensive list in any way–there are many words I omitted because I only returned one “official” (not commenter-written) result, and I didn’t put myself out looking for these words–if they weren’t in the first couple pages of results, I didn’t bother).

Schizophrenic: 1, 2, 3, 4

Retard/ed: 1, 2, 3, 4, (interestingly, Jez commented on the usage on Vh1 before)

Wheelchair bound: 1*, 2

Lame: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

Bipolar: 1, 2, 3, (again, to be fair, there’s this, too)

Spaz and derivitives: 1, 2, (this is a very common slur among the commetariat, and I got sick of wading through those results)

Jez (rightfully!) gets upset when words associated with feminism are misused. The editors and commenters won’t stand for the misuse of words like “rape,” or “lesbian,” or “bitch.” It would certainly be nice if they would make this shift as far as ableist language goes, too. Unfortunately, I don’t anticipate that happening any time soon, since responses to noting ableist language, as recently as last week, have been angry and dismissive (to the tune of “Go find someplace else that will let you whine”).

*(A direct quote: “When you think of amputees, dwarves, people with Cerebral palsy, or wheelchair-bound individuals in sexualized situations, it seems wrong, doesn’t it?”)

For further reading:
Bitch Magazine
Feminism 101
FWD/Forward

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