With Autism Awareness/ Acceptance month more than half over (WHEW!), I’d like to take the opportunity to spread a little more awareness.
Autistic people face an infuriating Catch-22 situation, and I’m not entirely sure that neurotypicals are even aware of it – even the well-meaning allies. So, consider this a PSA of sorts.
People who meet the neurotypical definition of “autistic enough” – maybe they’re nonverbal, don’t withhold their stimming, and/or need assistance of some sort – are seen as being less than human. .. And less than capable of speaking up for themselves.
I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen people written off as “stupid”, just because they don’t communicate verbally. (Not talking is not the same as not thinking… it’s not even the same thing as “not communicating”)
I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen autistic self-advocacy written off because, essentially, autistic opinions aren’t “human” enough to matter.
Autistic people are under immense pressure from society to conform, and to present as neurotypical as possible. “Until every piece fits“, after all. Even beyond the ridiculously offensive idea of “curing” us, most “therapies”, etc are about bullying us (torture, in some cases – ABA, for instance) into submission, and appearing more NT. It’s not about helping us with things like over-stimulation, it’s more about goals of forcing autistic people to not flap their hands, etc. Parents and teachers telling autistic kids “Quiet hands!!”- when a child is stimming – is actually a thing.
(Don’t get me started on the whole issue of parents being upset about a lack of (verbal) “communication”, while actively working to silence actual, non-verbal communication by autistics. Words aren’t the only way to communicate, and for a society that is so hung up on body language… many neurotypical people sure go out of their way to ignore/squash Autistic body language!)
… but when you spend your life observing, mimicking, putting yourself through horrible discomfort, watching your every word and movement, etc… you know what your reward is for finally reaching that ability to “pass”?
It’s being told that you’re not autistic enough.
Autistic people who “pass” are frequently told that they’re not autistic enough, or just plain aren’t autistic. This usually happens when an autistic person speaks up for autistic rights, etc. I just read a tweet where the woman “came out” in a college class, was told she shouldn’t say “autistic”, she should say “person with autism”. When she said “I am autistic, and I disagree”, she was shut down with the “not autistic enough” nonsense.
This is not only completely illogical behaviour from neurotypicals, I’m pretty sure it’s related to gaslighting – if not actual gaslighting. The idea that we lack agency to talk for ourselves if “autistic enough”, and then lose agency to speak as autistic people if we DO try conforming is cruel and abusive.
I want to discuss something I don’t usually talk about. I don’t know if it’s a personal taboo or more of a community culture thing, but I don’t tend to talk about how much effort goes into “passing”. Like many other things in life, I suppose… the key to “passing” is to make it seem natural, and for people to not actually realize the effort that went into it. (I think I just made a makeup metaphor. Lord. All that work on “passing” is corrupting me!)
As a kid, I chewed shirt collars… all the time, all through elementary school. I’d chew them until my chin was red and irritated. It was just a source of comfort – stimming – during the constant stress I was put through at school and at home. I had no peace, and I had to be constantly on alert.
Through behavioural counseling at school and eventually moving in with my grandmother (and away from major stressors), that particular stim went away – but not without a lot of work. I had to be constantly conscious of it, until it was just habit to not do it anymore.
It wasn’t the only way I trained myself to pass. I spent YEARS watching faces, making note of patterns, and even studying facial expressions. I put myself in super uncomfortable social situations, to learn. I observed other kids interacting, and worked on mimicking. It was a lot of hard work, resulted in a lot of discomfort, and even more bullying.
These days, I can get along with neurotypicals, even if they’re not always the most logical creatures on the planet. I still have to watch everything I say (NT people are big on filtered speech, however inefficient that restriction may be), keep the rocking and flapping to a minimum, etc. When I’m out running errands, I have to endure incredible pain from high pitched electronic noises that you may not even hear… simply because wearing noise canceling headphones would be seen as “weird”. My eyes hurt from too-bright florescent light in stores, because wearing sunglasses inside is similarly seen as weird. I could be so much more comfortable, if I wasn’t so focused on passing.
You may see someone who passes as one of you, but what you don’t see is how much brainpower and energy is being wasted in trying to live up to a NT standard, or the physical pain I can be in. Because you don’t see that, it can be easy to write me off as “not autistic” or “not autistic enough”… and that is incredibly frustrating.
The thing is, living as an autistic in a neurotypical world feels a lot like an abusive relationship. We bend over backwards, and our efforts are rarely – if ever – reciprocated. Rather than being met halfway, we’re expected to do all of the changing. We have to understand NT facial expressions, but NT people aren’t expected to figure out autistic body language. We have to go through sensory hell, rather than expect stores to just tone down the brightness and noise. Let’s be real, NO ONE needs things that bright and noisy!
Because of this lack of reciprocity – and I can’t believe I’m admitting this – I often fantasize about just NOT trying to “pass” anymore. It’s a delicious fantasy – just being as comfortable as possible, no longer concerned about trying to live up to the NT “standard”.
I don’t really have the guts – or means (No longer passing would definitely affect my income!) – to drop my efforts entirely. The other day I felt a bit ballsy and wore my sunglasses inside – it felt completely subversive.
Maybe someday I’ll invest in noise cancelling headphones to wear while running groceries. It certainly would be nice to drown out all of the high pitched electronic nonsense that’s *everywhere*, but again… the beaten-in desire to “pass” prevents me from doing so, even though I’d be FAR more comfortable.
I guess the awareness I’d like to raise, through this post, is that you never can tell what someone else is going through, to present neurotypical. I wish people would think about this when trying to silence autistic voices.
PS Here are some of my previous posts on Autism.
Well, it’s just about April … so I guess it’s time for my yearly rant about it. I’ve actually got a few mini rants this time around, all basically connected.
The other day, a sponsored post came across my Facebook feed. As an intentionally vague description, it used stolen artwork to associate the puzzle piece “Autism symbol” with a popular piece of pop culture, for commercial gain – not even linked to ANY non-profit. It was gross and appropriative on many levels… and then I read the comments.
… Where to even start with this?
First of all, props to all of the Autistic people in the thread who tried to speak up against it, while being wholly drowned out by non-Autistic people. It can be hard to speak up for ourselves, in the face of being outnumbered by many. I will never understand why some NT people have such a need to shout down Autistic people speaking up on Autistic issues.
A few issues to discuss here, as a result:
1. If you are not Autistic, you do not get to police how Autistic people address themselves.
This is a HUGE issue when it comes to identity-first vs person-first language. Autistic people tend to prefer identity first language – “I am Autistic”, “They are Autistic”, etc – VS person-first language – “She has Autism”, “He is a person with Autism”, etc.
Identity-first language acknowledges that this is who we ARE. We’re not inflicted with some disease, that we don’t need a “cure”, etc. Person-first language distances the autism from the person, and is associated with the view that it’s a disease. You have a cold, you have cancer, you don’t “have” autism. Autism is our Operating System, it’s tied up in to our personalities, our senses, the way we think, the way we experience life. It’s not some *thing* you can just take away.
I get so tired of seeing neurotypical people “correcting” Autistics on their choice of language. “You’re not ‘autistic’, you’re a person with autism!” is never an acceptable thing to say to anyone, period. That goes double when THAT is the response to an Autistic person explaining why something that NT people are doing is problematic.
Hell, even if you are Autistic, you don’t get to police the language that Autistic people use for refer to themselves. Some – not many, but some – Autistic people prefer person-first language. Many don’t. Let people address themselves the way they see fit, and have some respect for their choices.
2. If you are not Autistic, you are not Autistic.
This is an issue both on a smaller, individual level, and on a societal level. So often, we will see NT people in Autistic spaces, speaking over Autistic people, because they are related to an Autistic person. Relation does not equal authority, and it most certainly does not grant some sort of divine permission to speak OVER Autistic people.
On a societal level, this is a problem when it comes to issues of representation. So often, parents of Autistic people are looked to as “consultants” in matters of Autism (note: matters of Autism, specifically. NOT matters of being a parent to an Autistic child).
Under no circumstances is a neurotypical parent of an Autistic child an expert on what it is to be Autistic, nor should they be the sole voice when it comes to things like consulting for the creation of an Autistic character in the media. With so many actual Autistic people out there who are more than willing to consult on such things, there is really no reason for an NT parent to be consulted at all. There are, after all, Autistic parents of Autistic children out there!
Right now, this is the issue we’re seeing with Sesame Street’s new Autistic character. While they apparently did consult with Autistic people, they also consulted with Autism Speaks and NT parents “for balance”. This is probably a big part of the reason that all of their marketing uses person-first language, much to the disgust of basically every Autistic person who has said anything about the whole thing.
When you are specifically talking about women’s lives, you do NOT need to consult men “for balance”. When you are talking about black lives, specifically, you do not – AND SHOULD NOT – need to consult white people about it, “for balance”.
When you reach outside the actual community for such input, you are taking agency away from those actually impacted by the portrayal being discussed. There are far too many Autistics that are willing and able to educate and/or fight for proper representation, to keep them silenced in favour of NT people.
Autism Speaks – an organization almost universally despised by those it purports to represent – tends not to have any Autistics actually involved with the organization… go figure.
Autistic Self Advocacy Network, on the other hand, is vocal about “Nothing about us, without us”.
3. Let’s talk about the puzzle piece. Again.
This is a subject I’ve ranted about before, but let me try to condense this down into a shorter form.
The puzzle piece was around before Autism Speaks, though it is HIGHLY associated with them. The idea that we are a puzzle to be solved is dehumanizing and offensive to a lot of us.
The accompanying “Until every piece fits” may sound pleasant enough to the average neurotypical person, but you have to remember – your experience is not ours. You may hear that and think “yes! Autistic people should fit in!”. We hear it, and our thoughts are usually elsewhere. A few examples:
– ABA “therapy” (Which has left many Autistics with PTSD), other compliance therapy (Which could/should be considered torture, in many cases) and many other ways that many Autistics are forced to “fit”.
– The knowledge that the organization most associated with that phrase/image is also one who is big on researching in-utero markers for Autism. Yes, they want to employ eugenics against us. Much like words matter, context matters. Knowing what history knows, that phrase would sound an awful lot less warm and fuzzy if you heard Hitler saying it, wouldn’t it?
– There’s the issue that the puzzle piece – usually done up in primary colours – is infantilizing. These days, people are more likely to be diagnosed in childhood, but it’s not a childhood thing. There’s a lot of erasure of adult Autistics in the community. When it comes to “awareness”, support, etc, many Autistics feel that we are forgotten once we age out of childhood. When it comes to any online discussion involving Autistics, adult Autistics are frequently discounted or ignored entirely. We don’t become Neurotypical once we hit age 18, you know! To have such a “childish” symbol associated with us is a reminder of that whole issue.
– The very fact that we shouldn’t NEED to fit. Society benefits from the Autistic mind in so many ways – where do you think we would be right now, technologically speaking, without Autistics? You would not even be on the internet right now – it would not exist – and able to read this rant, if not for the many, many people on the spectrum who made the internet happen. It’s not logical to benefit from our brain differences, while simultaneously carrying on about how we should be just like you. Diversity is important, on so many levels. Even beyond just representation… but I’ll spare you the tangent about evolutionary biology. For now 🙂
I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again. We are UNIX minds in a Windows world… and the analogy works on many levels.
While the puzzle piece and phrase may sound positive to well-intentioned NT people, they can have MUCH darker connotations to those of us on the spectrum.
All of this, and I still see NT people shouting down Autistic people who try to explain how problematic the symbol is. We shouldn’t have to look past the dark, creepy overtones to the symbol and phrase, just because they make neurotypical people feel good. That’s not how this works.
Awareness vs Acceptance
It’s 2017. We’ve been around for a very long time, and we’ve even been known for a long time. It’s time to move on from “awareness” in April.
I’ve noticed a very clear divide in the hashtags used by Autistic people, and by non-Autistic people in April. We tend to use #AutismAcceptance”, while those not on the spectrum tend to use #AutismAwareness. Words do matter, whether it’s this set of two options, or the earlier discussed identifying language.
This April, please reconsider your words. Please reconsider the use of the puzzle piece. Please consider NOT “Lighting it up Blue” – an Autism Speaks initiative – and consider one of the alternatives, being promoted by actual Autistic people to combat the “Light it up Blue”.
A few hashtags to follow on Twitter, or to use to search for further reading:
Just now, I see there’s a new movement.. To use #AutismAppreciation. I like it!
Now, if you’ll pardon me, I think it’s about time for my yearly viewing of X-Men: The Last Stand.
PS Here are some of my previous posts on Autism.
|CFAC is a local nonprofit which brings costumers together to volunteer their talents for local charities, to aid and enrich their fundraisers and other events. Dressed as princesses, superheroes, and more, we do appearances at events such as charity walks, Children’s hospital TV programming, and more.
Prior to joining The Royal Sisterhood, I was involved with another division of Costumers for a Cause, doing appearances as Superheroes/ villains, along with my husband. (I went as Beast, he would usually go as Magneto or Loki, all from the Marvel Cinematic Universe.)
At a TRS meeting yesterday, my friend Sara did a great presentation on gender inclusiveness while doing charity appearances. With an Autism Walk coming up, I asked if the group had ever discussed interacting with Autistic children. I have seen some pretty bizarre things with regards to Neurotypicals interacting with Autistics, after all.
After sharing a few thoughts on the matter, I was asked to write up a bit of a guide. I went home, brainstormed with my husband, and here we are! While this was written specifically for a group of Princesses, we thought that it was good advice for those doing charity appearances in general, so decided to post it here.
prior to a charity appearance.
Interacting with an Autistic Child
1. Don’t force eye contact.
Eye contact can feel very threatening/intimidating to some, and far too intimate to others. If it’s obvious they don’t want to make eye contact, talk to their shoulder or their chin. Just because they’re not looking at you, doesn’t mean they’re not looking at you… if that makes sense. Don’t take it personally if they don’t want to look you in the face.
2. Do not touch – even a fist bump or high five – without asking first.
Don’t take it personally if they don’t want to touch you, or shy away from you physically.
3. Talk to the autistic child first, not their parent.
For example, ask the child if they want a hug, not the adult if it’s OK. If it turns out that the child needs the adult to communicate for them, the adult will step in. Asking the adult first is a sore point in the community.
4. Be mindful of sensory issues.
Avoid or go very light on perfume, etc when attending an Autistic event. Be mindful of the fact that loud voices (loud to us, not to you!) can be very startling.
Of particular note for princess events: The high, very girly princess voice and accompanying laugh can be difficult/painful, especially in groups. If you are in a group of two or more princesses, try to keep laughter subdued.
5. Know your audience.
Autistics are very, VERY literal. There’s a fine line between staying in character, and offending the children. Many of us have no ability to suspend disbelief, and some of the things said to enhance “character” can come off as lying, or as mocking the Autistic child.
For example, if you say “I just came from Arendelle…”, an Autistic child is likely to process it something like: “Arendelle doesn’t exist. Is she making fun of me? Does she think I’m stupid? What am I supposed to say to that?”.
It can be very awkward and uncomfortable. If at all possible, avoid making definitive statements about the fictional world you’re portraying (I know, this is super counter-intuitive, for showing up in character). For this reason, various figures of speech can also be confusing and make things awkward.
6. Speak very clearly. Enunciate!
Many Autistics also have sensory processing disorders, which can be exacerbated by busy environments like the charity walk. When you hear EVERYTHING going on around you, it can be very hard to pick out a certain person talking, even if right in front of you.
Please don’t be offended if you’re asked to repeat something, or if you are misunderstood. Also know that many rely on reading lips, even if they don’t have a hearing problem. Try to face in their general direction when talking to them, even if eye contact is an issue.
7. Give plenty of time for a response.
Autistic children can take longer to reply than neurotypical children. If you’re sure they heard you, just have a bit of patience in waiting for a reply. They’re processing! Also, know that long pauses may feel really awkward to you, but aren’t necessarily to Autistics. Autistics can enjoy your quiet presence, and don’t necessarily need nonstop conversation. Social cues are not our strong point!
8. Ask about hobbies, BUT…
… be prepared to have your ear talked off. If you get an Autistic child talking about an area of special interest, they can go on and on. It can be hard for them to tell when the other party is not interested, or the conversation should move on. Be ready to be very, very patient!
On that point, know that when the conversation has ended, be clear that you are ending it. Don’t hint around that you have to move on, just be clear and honest that you need to meet others, etc. Again, social cues!
9. Do not take anything personally.
I’ve touched on this with a couple of other points, but it should be expanded on. For one thing, Autistics can be very frank with you. There’s not usually a lot of sugar coating, more just saying what’s on the mind. It can come off rude, but is usually not ever INTENDED to be rude. These can fall into observations or questions about physical appearance, etc. Try to roll with things, even if something hurts a bit.
10. Watch your wording.
Please avoid the use of “high functioning” or “low functioning” to describe an Autistic person. Don’t compare an Autistic to a non Autistic, or use phrases like “For an Autistic…” (“You’re so friendly/empathetic/well spoken for an Autistic”, for example). Though it likely won’t come up, it needs to be said: Don’t use “cure” language.
Additionally, know that – much like gender pronouns – How you refer to an Autistic is important. Many/most Autistic adults prefer identity-first language, ie: Autistic person, Autistic child, etc… while many non-Autistic people seem to think that person-first language is most appropriate: “Person with Autism”, “Person who has Autism”. Many of us see “with” or “who has” to be offensive, as it usually accompanies the idea of us being “inflicted” with something, that it’s something separate from us, and/or is a temporary/ “curable” thing. Autism is our Operating System, it’s who we are.
If an Autistic person tells you what their preference is – identity-first or person-first – please respect it. Also: Please don’t ever say “suffers from Autism”.
11. Tone matters.
You don’t necessarily need to mimic how the parent talks to the Autistic child. Some parents of Autistics are… less than ideal in how they treat their kids, and can talk to them like they’re babies and/or idiots. Aside from issues mentioned above (eye contact, enunciation, literal speech), you shouldn’t feel the need to talk any differently to an Autistic child, than you would a neurotypical child. As an example, nonverbal children are often looked at as stupid or lesser-than, and are frequently talked down to. The fact that they don’t speak *doesn’t* mean they don’t understand, or aren’t intelligent. Some of the most intelligent people I’ve ever known are non-verbal.
12. Know that every Autistic is different.
Some of these tips won’t apply to everyone. For some, every single one will. You will likely meet Autistic children who “pass” for neurotypical.
As a bit of an aside – this isn’t so much about dealing with Autistic children, as it is a bit of information about the Autism community, culture, etc…
April is coming up, and with it… “Autism Awareness Month”. Every Autistic adult I know dreads this month, as the promotion and observance of it tends to be hugely offensive to Autistic people. I’ve written about it Here, Here, and Here. I’d encourage anyone planning to do Autism charity appearances to read through those posts.
1. Autism Speaks is a horrible organization, on so many levels. Most Autistic adults and many parents of Autistics are horrified by their campaigns and treatment of Autistics. Please consider NOT supporting A$, and look to alternative organizations. I tend to recommend Autistic Self Advocacy Network, as it is “Nothing about us, without us”
2. As an extension of #1, the puzzle piece and “Light it up blue” are very much Autism Speaks symbols, and as such are pretty offensive to a many Autistics. For more information/perspective, I recommend Goggling such things as “Don’t light it up blue”, and “Autism Speaks doesn’t speak for me”.
3. The #ActuallyAutistic tag on social media – particularly Twitter – is a good read if you’d like to hear what Autistic people have to say.
Recently, I applied for a job.
This is a unique experience for me, as someone who’s long considered herself unemployable. It’s not that I’m incapable of working, or that I’d even be considered an undesirable hire … it’s more a matter of … how do I put this?
I’ve long felt like any possible outside career I could take up would end – in very short order – with me feeling like a square peg being forced into a round hole. I can do pretty much anything, I can learn – and master – things incredibly fast… but that ends up being a negative, for most careers. Even with my own self employment, I hit a wall and need change, new challenges, etc.
I’ve always joked that the day a career is created where I could basically get paid to problem solve all day (with lots of research involved), but where those problems were ever changing, crossing many different subject areas… that’s the day I could settle into a career.
Until that point, I would keep doing what I’m doing. I know myself well enough to have settled into a pretty decent grove – keeping things varied between costuming and writing – that I’ve managed to stave off another career regeneration well past my normal limit.
Well, I found that perfect hypothetical career opportunity, and I applied. I know there’s only a very slim chance of getting accepted… but it would be amazing. Not only would it be amazing *for* me, it’s something I could do a great job at it – it’s something that could put almost all of my Aspergian traits to really good use. They could really benefit from adding someone like me to the position.
So. Fingers crossed.
Anyway, I’ve been approaching the whole thing the way I did when I applied for MasterChef. I feel sort of bad for making the comparison, given how that whole experience was… but there are definite similarities in the whole apply -> wait a long time to hear back thing. It’s actually kind of surprising how much it’s been reminding me of the pre-MasterChef period. Though the end goal is VERY different from MasterChef, even a lot of the “training” I’m going through is similar.
I’m doing a LOT of reading and viewing. There is so much subject matter and history to get acquainted with, and it’s fascinating. Also, it’s really exciting to see all of the subject matter I could be dealing with, and interesting people I could be working with.
I’ve been studying up on the logistics involved, and formulating the plans for the life upheaval that would be involved, including a move. (This part was easy – I’m a logistics nerd, so we’re all set!)
The most perplexing area of preparation/study/etc is what I actually planned to discuss on this blog entry, now that I’ve rambled so. It’s the matter of “mainstreaming”, as someone who … well, who is pretty settled into their ways.
I’m someone who didn’t really know how to meet people and make friends until I was 24. It’s taken time, but I actually do strike up conversations with strangers now!
I’m someone who spends her work days at home, in sweat pants and t-shirts. Comfortable cotton, no irritating closures. When I go outside for errands, it’s nicer sweatpants, yoga pants, etc. Comfortable shoes (men’s sandals).
When it comes to outdoor shoes, my year looks like this:
Socks with sandal season
Kamik boots season
Socks with sandal season
… back to sandals season.
Those sandals are the exact same manufacturer and style across the past few years, btw.
AUGH. I am saying goodbye to my men’s sandals, for the most part. Boo – they are so comfortable! I have invested in a few pairs of fall boots – replacing my “socks with sandals” season. They have actual heels, which is really throwing my body/senses for a loop. It’s been interesting, feeling which muscles are engaging in the whole process of walking in heels. Certain muscles feel good, as it’s a nice stretch… others aren’t as nice.
I’m training my feet for wearing heels, as my large toe joint in particular has an issue with this whole idea. A few hours every day, I wear them at my desk, walk around a bit, etc. When we go out, I wear the smallest heel, for now – I’ll graduate to taller ones little by little.
I have a strong preference for extremely utilitarian, cross-body messenger bags. For the past year or so, this has taken the shape of a Star Trek sciences uniform bag, which I adore. I’ve also been eyeing the Klingon one, which has a built in bat’leth as decoration.
.. However awesome these are, they’re not so great for the whole idea of professional look, mainstreaming. There is a lot of baggage (hah!) wrapped up in the carrying of a handbag, so this has been a weird bit of study for me. I’ve developed a bit of an obsession, though on a different track than the sort of stereotypical female handbag worship thing.
For one, I have a definite “type”, and eschew anything outside of it. As my husband was quick to point out, the ones I deem acceptable all fall pretty close to Golden Ratio proportions. It’s not something I was consciously considering, but it definitely has been holding true.
Beyond shape/ratio, I have a strong preference for actual leather, no logos. Decorative pockets are great, as long as their locations, shape, and size are pleasing.
For me, this has all culminated into the realization that I am into old Coach bags. I am not a fan of their recent stuff, or basically anything that is “current” fashion, regardless of designer. While not being into anything current is a bit of a blessing on the wallet, I’m a bit dismayed at my apparent steadfast preference for a designer name – it’s jarring, for someone with a past refusal to spend more than $30 on a purse.
On the upside, “old” means “much more reasonably priced on Ebay”… and they’re built like SADDLES. I’m pretty sure their old leather purses will last decades. A $130 purse that lasts even a decade is a more economically sound choice than spending $30, and replacing every year when worn out.
It’s been weird, researching purses with regards to looking more adult/professional/”neurotypical”. I knew that there are a lot of status-type issues wrapped up in the choice and purchase of a purse; I knew that colours and styles are seasonal, etc.
What I had never considered before were the logistics and “status” messages wrapped up in the type of purse you carry – handbag, cross-body, etc. While I understood that my Star Trek messenger bag would be deemed less than professional, I assumed it was solely because of the “Star Trek” – not necessarily the “messenger bag”. Sure enough, when observing people… you don’t see a lot of professionally attired women carrying cross-body purses. (Those that do have skinny straps that dig in, not nice, wide utilitarian ones!)
Switching to a shoulder bag has been weird, with losing some use of the arm I’m carrying it on. I’m constantly adjusting it to be on my actual shoulder, as it slides.
Handbags are even worse, carrying in the crook of the elbow. I actually had to google “how do you carry a handbag?”, as it was something I’d never paid attention to. My preferred method is to put my forearm through the straps, aim it downward, and support the bottom of the bag with my hand – it’s less strain on the elbow, and prevents it from flapping around and annoying me.
My husband says it looks like I’m carrying a football, however. He demonstrated how the professional women at his work carry theirs, with their hand aimed upwards. He then related it to a Tyrannosaurus Rex, made a generic “raptor” noise, and we both dissolved into giggles.
I find the whole thing fascinating, though sort of ridiculous. I don’t get the point of spending more money, to lose the use of one arm. If you are a professional, you are likely very busy and DOING things… why is it seen as a more professional look to hamper the use of one – usually the dominant – arm? That’s illogical.
I’m assuming that – much like pockets in women’s clothing – it has its roots in ingrained, systemic sexism. That a woman doesn’t need to be doing anything, so it doesn’t matter if her mobility is hampered. That being the case, shouldn’t messenger bags be ULTRA professional?
The same thought can be applied to shoes. Heels are “professional” (to a degree, anyway), but comfortable sandals are not. Heels cause you to take smaller strides, hamper speed, etc. They cause bodily fatigue – why is that professional? Men’s dress shoes are such that their strides aren’t significantly hampered, after all. It’s kind of a gross message, when you think about it – especially considering many workplaces actually require women to wear heels.
When you combine heels and handbags, the problem is even greater than just “your stride is hampered and your arm/hand dexterity is hampered”… you add in issues of balance and muscle strain.
Who knew there would be so much to consider when choosing *accessories* that have literally no impact on anyone else!
Anyway, I digress. Unfortunately, my glorious TARDIS wallet was similarly ruled to be less than professional, and I’ve had to buy a more adult looking wallet. While my TARDIS wasn’t actually “bigger on the inside”, it held a lot of stuff – plenty of cards, a coin area, a sections for bills, etc. It’s been hard to find something similar in “professional”.
Wallets shouldn’t be so hard to buy! While searching for a nicer wallet, I’ve found that many are tiny. A whole bunch of them don’t have space for bills, and/or don’t have a clear window for ID, etc. Many don’t hold more than 5 cards. I’m no credit card demon, but almost every store one shops at now has some kind of loyalty card involved!
Perhaps not carrying loyalty/reward/discount membership cards is also a status thing? I suppose that fits the pattern established.
We are getting out of the habit of holing up in our “Fortress of Solitude”, and aiming to be more social. While that has led to more going out to events *with friends*, the big change has been going out more just us + strangers. We recently went to an event for Canadians living in Minneapolis, and met people! We’ve also been going out to the theater, which has been fun.
It’s kind of amusing to me that the social stuff has been far less stressful / less effort than figuring out the handbags/shoes thing!
To be fair, though, I’ve spent a lifetime observing neurotypicals. I’ve paid attention to their behaviours, social norms, etc. For the most part, I can sort of blend in on that front, now… though I wish I’d paid attention to things like “how do you carry a purse?”!
So, I’ve been focusing on honing my reactions to people online – quite the task, given the current political climate. I’ve gotten a lot better about measuring my responses, and just keeping my mouth shut in certain instances. I’m waiting for my husband to get sick of my “LOOK AT WHAT I RESTRAINED MYSELF FROM REPLYING TO!” messages!
… So, that’s about where I’m at right now.
The next two areas to tackle are clothing (suits, ack!), and nails. I’m a “short nails, no polish” kinda person. I don’t see the short nails thing changing (even though I know long nails are a professional/feminine thing), but I have resolved to try nail wraps. Perhaps that would solve my problem of chipping polish almost immediately.
Overall, I’m finding it really amazing to me how much I have to actively work *against* comfort, to project an image of professionalism. Uncomfortable shoes and handbags that hamper mobility. Restrictive clothing that requires MORE care than just normal laundry. Nail length that restricts activity, polish that doesn’t hold up to working hands.
To go to work, you’re expected to maintain an image that actively hampers work. To show that you can do a job, you have to employ attire and accessories that eschew comfort and hamper your stamina and focus.
We are a truly bizarre species, aren’t we?
Earlier this week, I had to go see a doctor about an ear issue. As they asked me “On a scale of 1-10, what is your pain level”, I struggled to provide an answer they would understand.
After over three and a half decades of life as an autistic woman, I can honestly say that one of the most frustrating things about life on the spectrum is the lack of shared frame of reference between autistic people and neurotypical people. Many/most people tend to think of their views as being the default, and have no idea what others live.
We’re guilty of it too, of course. Neither my husband or I had ANY idea that most people don’t feel their entire digestive system / process happening. We weren’t really aware that – much like the variety in sensitivity to smells, for example … people can have wildly different levels of interoception.
Interoception is your internal sense, your awareness of what’s going on with your body. Hunger, thirst, temperature, and more.
For most people, interoception covers the basics: Tells you when you’re hungry, lets you know when you’re getting sick, alerts you of the coming need to find a washroom.
For some autistics, interoception is muted: They don’t get the same feelings until much later in the game.
For others, our interoception is hyper sensitive. We feel EVERYTHING… and it’s really annoying. Where you feel “hungry”, I can feel when I’ve specifically not had enough animal protein lately. (It’s a terrible, full-body feeling. It feels like every cell in my body is sluggish and dying). I can feel when I’m low on iron, before it dips past the low bar of “acceptable”.
Think of it like the dashboard of a car.
For the most part, it will tell you when you need to top up your oil, how fast you’re going, etc. It lets you take good care of your car, without overwhelming you with unnecessary information.
For those with less sensitive interoception, it would be like having a car where the sensors don’t tell you that you’re running low on oil until you’re basically on fumes, and about to blow your engine.
For those like me, it’s like… having a car where all of the sensors are WAY too sensitive. You hit a small bump in the road, and it sets off, say, the O2 sensor.
Unlike the earlier two examples, however, the hyper sensitive interoception wouldn’t be akin to the warning light blinking on for a few seconds. It’s akin to multiple loud alarms and flashing lights going off every time that warning symbol is tripped.
Take pulse, for example. That’s another instance of assuming that my experience is just the default – I had no idea that most people aren’t *constantly* aware of their pulse. I hear and feel my own constantly, whether it’s running low or high. I don’t have to think about it, it’s just there – like slightly too-loud background music.
The problematic thing is that I am also hyper aware of tempo and force with it. If my pulse goes up or down by even 3-5 BPM, if my blood pressure rises or drops a little, I can sense that change – and the warning lights go off. I understand that those with normal interoception can feel their pulse “racing” when it happens – as a result of strenuous activity, for example. For me, an uptick of even 5 BPM comes off as “racing” to me, even when it’s completely within the normal, healthy pulse range. It’s… distracting.
I’m not even sure I’m explaining this in a way that makes sense, because I don’t have a ton of frame of reference on life as a neurotypical, beyond conversations that I’ve had with friends. Fascinating conversations happen, when both sides discuss “what is this like?”, “How does X feel to you?”, and “If you can feel Y, then what about ….?”. I learn a lot from such conversations.
Think about it … how would you describe a colour – or even explain the concept of colour – to someone who has never had vision before? Conversely, how would a person who was born blind explain their concept of sight /lack thereof – never having had it – to a sighted person? It would be very difficult.
When neurotypicals encounter autistic people with sensory issues – particularly from what I read of parents of autistic children – there seems to be this feeling that autistic people are being babies or drama queens, over sensory overload. There isn’t a lot of effort put into understanding that we just tend to feel things differently.
Now don’t get me wrong, I am 100% OK with being Aspie, and I appreciate the “gifts” I have. I put many of my autistic traits to good use. As an Aspergian female – with a keen sense of pattern observation, to boot! – I enjoy a HUGE amount of “pass privilege”. Most people have no idea that I’m on the spectrum when they meet me – though this was certainly not the case even 15 years ago. (Observation, empathy, and pattern recognition put to use in understanding NT ways!).
As soon as I get even a tiny amount of fluid behind my eardrum? All of that “passing” goes right out the window. I am never as visibly, stereotypically autistic as I am when there is something wrong with one or both of my ears – and I cannot help it.
I am 100% aware that my experience of ear issues is completely different than the average neurotypical experience, and that my outward appearance from it definitely comes off as “weak” or “crybaby” or “drama queen”. My neurotypical friends go to work when they have ear infections! That will never cease to amaze me. I’m so terrified of the *possibility* of an ear infection, that the slightest twinge in my ear – feeling like there could be an oncoming issue – is enough to send me into a full, anxiety-ridden meltdown.
I’m not an anxious person. I can deal with major stresses, no problem. I have weathered storms many people will never see – literally even (Tornado!). I may actually thrive on stress, for that matter – I get things done.
I’m also not a wimp, physically. When I was younger, I refused to let a doctor put a cast on my broken ankle, because I had a VERY important (to me) skating competition that weekend. My skates were stiff as bricks, after all – so I figured I’d be fine. I was – I landed my Axel, on that broken ankle… and used crutches while not actually skating. I went in to get it casted up the day after the competition. Smart? Probably not… but I think it does speak to my ability to deal with pain.
Similarly, I’ve landed a botched death drop in such a way that I stabbed the heel of my blade into the palm of my hand, deeply… put a thick glove on and went out to try it (the spin, I mean) again. I have sliced myself wide open, broken bones, pulled and torn muscles. I had a back injury after a car accident that was bad enough, I was told I’d “never walk properly again”. It took a LOT of painful work, but I rehabbed THAT one.
My ears, though… are my Achilles heel. Anything “off” about them is my Kryptonite. I’m not even talking about a full blown infection – which, as I understand it, even NT people feel as actual pain. I’m talking about the subtle, non-painful stuff.
Right now, I have a “small” amount of fluid behind my eardrum. The doctor was very “whatever” about it, it’s no big deal. From all I can tell from neurotypical friends / those with less sensitive interoception, that’s an understandable reaction – that it’s a mild annoyance at best.
It’s not fully clogged, I haven’t lost MUCH hearing (it’s definitely muted slightly), there’s not even enough water that I can hear it sloshing. It’s not even that full/popped feeling you get from changes of pressure. I can absolutely understand how – to those with less ridiculous senses – this would be no big deal.
… but it’s driving me nuts. If you were to have a pillow smothered over your nose and mouth, that’s kind of what it feels like in my ear – complete with the resulting panicky feeling. The AIR feels different in that ear, and I am all too aware of it. It’s off balance from what the other ear is experiencing. While it’s not actually affecting MY balance, the lack of symmetry in ear sensation is tripping my “warning lights” terribly.
… but it’s not PAIN.
The thing is, there is a word for “pain”, and there is a scale for it. Sure, my 5 may not be YOUR 5, but at least we can try to plug in a number based on our perception of 1 and 10.
… there isn’t such a term – or scale – for what drives me to freak out about my ear.
When the doctor asks me “1-10, what is your pain level?”, truthfully, it’s a 1. If I say “1″, he has no sense of the urgency I have to fix this, how absolutely unacceptable the sensation is. People don’t curl into a ball and cry their eyes out over a “1″, after all.
If I translate it into “1-10, what is the level of unacceptability here?”, it would be a 9 or 10. I can’t ANSWER with 9 or 10, because pain is a very specific concept, and he would take that 9 or 10 to mean something VERY different than what is going on.
I have to wonder how medical care of autistic people suffers, because of this break in experience / frame of reference. I’m verbal, and I like to think I’m fairly articulate. I spend a lot of time thinking about stuff like this, and put care into explaining it – but not all people on the spectrum are, can or do. My “bridge” to the NT side of things is fairly well developed, because I’ve been able to put a lot of observation, thought, and effort into it. Not all Autistics enjoy the same level of.. NT fluency?
The reason I write this, is because I’m hopeful it can shed some light on what life can be like for people like me, and hopefully prompt some understanding and empathy for autistics that have a rough go of things.
Remember, though, interoception is only ONE sense, as systemic as it may be. Many of us have multiple senses that are overdeveloped – taste, touch, sight, hearing, etc.
Going back to “It’s akin to multiple loud alarms and flashing lights going off every time that warning symbol is tripped.” … that’s for just the internal sense. Imagine living with that as your reality, while ALSO being exposed to external stimuli, while experiencing it at a higher sensitivity than most. The sound of an automatic door or grocery conveyor belt that is slightly out of balance can be physically painful, feeling like someone is drilling your brain. Fluorescent lights can be similarly painful.
When your senses are hyperactive, you can have that level of stimulation coming at you from not only multiple outside sources (for example, a HELLISH Cub nearby has the door, conveyor belt, AND lighting issues happening all at once), but internally.
When you see an autistic person having a meltdown, know that there is a very good chance that this is the reality that we are living with.
Everyone is different, the levels to which we experience things are different, and even the triggers are different (for example, mid range tones bother me more than my husband, who is more sensitive to certain frequencies of high pitches than I am. )… but when sensory overstimulation is an issue? Well, it could be something very different than what you experience in your own life.
Not only is this relevant to the time of year – colds/flus/seasonal allergies / hellish barometric pressure swings / etc – the holidays are coming up. With all of the extra smells, lights, noises, etc that the holidays bring… please be kind to the autistic people in your life.
With the official release of Hedonistic Hops just a week away, I participated in an author interview yesterday… and subsequently kicked myself for one of my answers.
The question was something like “If you were stranded on a desert island, what 3 books would you want to have with you?”.
Without hesitation, my reply was “A book on tropical plant identification, a book on survival skills, and a book on primitive boat making”.
Hours later, it hit me that I may have answered the question, but managed to miss the spirit of the question – that they were likely framing “what are your favourite books” in a whimsical manner. I guess I was so focused on the idea of being stuck on a desert island, I went straight to the most logical answer… rather than indulge in whimsy.
I fussed about it a bit online: I categorized it among “social missteps”, which – as an Aspergian adult – I’ve been trying to be better about. My friends were very nice about my gaffe, making comments about how they appreciated my literal interpretation, etc. A comment was made about “Spock level logic”.
How fitting it is that just a few short hours later, September 8th hit – the 50th Anniversary of Star Trek.
As everyone I know seems to be pouring their hearts out about what Star Trek has meant to them, I figured I should do the same!
My introduction to Star Trek came from an unexpected source: non-geek bullies.
Though I wasn’t diagnosed till my mid teens – and there wasn’t even a name for it in my early years – my Aspergers didn’t go unnoticed by the other kids I went to school with. When I was very young, the other kids called me “Spock”. I had no idea what that even meant, until I watched Star Trek. Though it was used in a pejorative sense – as a slur against my being “different ” – I took it as a compliment. This was a character I could relate to!
There was no representation of people like me in the media in those days. While he may have been a pointy eared alien, Spock was the very first “person” I was ever able to relate to – on screen or otherwise. I guess that him being an alien is appropriate enough, having always felt like I’d been dropped off on the wrong planet! (Which I now know is a common feeling with Aspies).
I have no idea where to even start with describing what that’s like. There was no social media back then, there was no one “like me” in my elementary school, no one like me on TV… Except Spock. Kind of a little glimmer of hope that I wasn’t a complete freak, I guess? At the time, I rationalized that… Sure, he may be a fictional character, but SOMEONE came up with him. One way or the other, the Spock character gave me how that there were other people like me out there. It was a BIG DEAL… one that I can’t accurately put into words.
On the subject of “representation matters”, I always appreciated how diverse Star Trek was. I appreciated that there were all these characters of different backgrounds, races, even SPECIES… just working together.
As I grew a bit older, I came to notice and appreciate that the diversity I so loved about the show was so… organic. That it was written so naturally, and not in a “Look at us! We’re being so EDGY!” kind of way. I appreciated that this show – one that was almost a decade and a half before my time – put this vision of the future out there. It was… hopeful.
|As I grew older yet, I met my “tribe” in the Geek community – many of whom are Trekkies. I have friends that I met as Klingons first, and “Klingon” is how I think of them. I suppose some of them might feel the same sort of way about Klingons, as I did – and do – about Spock.
I met and married a man who not only agrees that going to see “A Klingon Christmas Carol” is the only really acceptable holiday tradition for us, but was RIGHT there with me when Leonard Nimoy passed – leaving work early and instituting “grief sushi” as a thing. Nimoy was the first and only celebrity passing either of us cried about, and we were both pretty traumatized by the surprise meeting of Spock Vegas just a month later. (Though he seems to be a lovely man!)
Oh, this is getting dark. I guess it’s hard for me to talk about Star Trek without the fixation on Spock- and Nimoy, by extension. Neither one of us are what you’d consider “Trekkies” – we’re casual fans, in general. We haven’t seen all the series, though we enjoy the movies, and enjoyed TNG as children. We enjoy the enthusiasm of our Trekkie friends, for sure! (I will admit to having been SO pissed off at how they killed of Tasha Yar, that I stopped watching. LOL)
Anyway. In the past years, autism has come to be slightly better represented in the media, so I am very happy that kids of today have non-alien, “real” characters to look up to: Gary from “Alphas” (Ok, he’s a mutant, but STILL), and Connor from “Degrassi” (The most accurate representation I’ve ever come across), for example.
… but I will always be thankful to Star Trek, Gene Roddenberry, and Leonard Nimoy in particular for giving me the gift of Spock, and the gift of … relating.
I’m thankful they’ve given that same gift to other friends of mine, whether as Klingons, as women, and/or as people of colour. It’s a beautiful thing, and definitely a show – and milestone anniversary! – to be celebrated!
So, Happy 50th, Star Trek! May you continue to Live Long and Prosper.
PS: Also, thank you for making William Shatner famous. That man is a national treasure.
As April starts tomorrow, I’ve been spending a fair amount of time fighting the good fight on social media – Educating people about the evils of Autism Speaks, speaking up for autistic rights, and thanking allies for spreading good information.
One question I’ve been asked a lot lately is “Why is the puzzle piece considered offensive to Autistic people?”.
While I can’t speak for all autistic people, obviously, I’d like to take a few minutes to give my own personal view on the nature of the offense.
A popular saying to accompany that symbol is “until all the pieces fit”. Admittedly, this sounds nice enough on the surface… but to those of us who have spent our lives on the spectrum, it’s actually a really gross and horrifying sentiment.
First of all, there’s the idea that we *have* to fit. That we’re not *allowed* to be different. As I’d mentioned in an earlier entry, I’ve read that autistic people who hide their autistic traits “often have high degrees of anxiety or other mental health problems”, from the constant acting. I believe it. The stress to “fit”, to not be singled out as different, and – in many cases – to conceal your spectrum status from employers/potential employers is a huge issue.
I spent most of my life trying to fit in, to pass as neurotypical, and to ignore my diagnosis. I didn’t “come out” until I was well into my 20s, around a decade after having an official diagnosis. It was exhausting… and I was never truly happy until I accepted myself, and just let it be. I am who I am.
Do you know what happens when you try to force a puzzle piece into a space where it doesn’t belong? It warps, folds, and can break. Assuming you can actually force it into the space you’re trying to, physically… it still doesn’t “fit”. There is no reason in the world to force a puzzle piece into the wrong space.
Not only does it not ADD anything to the puzzle it’s being forced into, it takes away from the piece itself. Forcing it into a wrong space deprives that puzzle piece of completing the puzzle it was meant to.
Anyway, enough metaphors. Let’s talk real facts – the ways that autistic people are forced to fit in.
There’s the more benign things – being shamed and otherwise discouraged from saying and doing what comes naturally to us. Flapping, toe walking, whatever. For me, it was chewing collars and disassembling pens / binders. Was it harmful to shame me out of habit? Probably not, in the long run… but it definitely contributes to this narrative of us being “lesser than”. Sometimes it seemed like those who would address my quirks felt like they were trying to train a monkey to be human. It’s gross to be on the receiving end of that.
As I was diagnosed early on in Aspergers even being a thing – and because I’m seen as “high functioning” (I hate those labels, btw. Super disrespectful to many autistics), I got to avoid most of the problematic “therapies” out there. The only thing I can really remember having to do, was getting taken out of class on a regular basis during elementary school, to go sit in the art room with an adult .. Councillor? “Big Brother/Sister” type thing? I don’t even know what their actual title was. We’d sit and talk and mess around with craft materials. Not particularly damaging, and I looked forward to getting away from my classmates.
I didn’t get subjected to ABA – Applied Behavioural Analysis.
ABA is something that Autism “Warrior” Moms and organizations like Autism Speaks LOVE to support, promote, and push on others. If you read ABA as it’s marketed, it sounds pretty harmless, and potentially even helpful.
… however, if you read about it from those who have gone through it – many of whom suffer from PTSD as a result – you’ll see a very different picture being painted.
25+ hours of intensive “therapy” involving forced coercion every week. Kids being denied meals until they “comply” with whatever it is that’s being forced on them at the time. Subjugation. “Treatments” that – if applied to non-autistics – would be considered child abuse.
As I haven’t gone through it myself, I don’t feel it’s my place to go into too many details – but I really suggest reading the stories of those who have gone through it. A few examples:
Touch Nose. Gummi Bear (First in a series on that blog)
.. And when you read that, and see how people – HUMANS – get literally forced into “fitting in”… hopefully you can see why that puzzle piece is so offensive. I see it, and I feel for all of my autistic brothers and sisters who have been subjugated and even tortured in the name of “fitting that last puzzle piece in”.
… and that’s just the most popular “therapy”. There are all kinds of more “under the table” ‘therapies’… including administering bleach, both orally and by enema. Again, the kind of thing that would be seen as child abuse, IF autistic children were seen as full humans.
That’s why so many of us feel that the “Autism Awareness” thing needs to go away, and that society should adopt Autism ACCEPTANCE as the focus. We don’t need awareness, especially the kind of “awareness” organizations like Autism Speaks puts out there. We need acceptance. We don’t need or WANT a “cure”, we want to be seen as equals, and treated as humans.
So please, this April… Don’t “Light it up Blue”. Don’t join in on the giant, crowd sourced advertising Autism Speaks ad campaign that is “Autism Awareness”.
Instead, please join those of us on the spectrum in fighting for Acceptance.
My personal favourite is “Tone it Down Taupe”. It’s a tongue in cheek campaign, but I love it.
So far as I can tell, neither of these market for any particular organization, and are purely grassroots efforts to fight for our equality.
If you ARE looking to donate to an organization, I recommend Autistic Self Advocacy Network. It’s by Autistics, for Autistics, and does *not* promote the “cure” narrative.
Whew, that turned out to be quite the long entry! Thank you for listening!
It’s my hope that more neurotypical / “allistic” people take posts like this to heart, especially when you come upon Autism Speaks / Light it up Blue / puzzle piece items online. Those of us on the spectrum are in the minority, and can always use help from allies. If you see something, say something
A couple months ago, I came across a notice that upset me greatly – The Nylons were going on a farewell tour, before calling it quits.
I want to talk about what all transpired as a result, but I warn you – this is going to be the most emo post I’ve ever written. Probably going to be pretty disjointed too, I’m sorry! I have a lot of feels right now.
So, I’ve been listening to The Nylons since I was about 4 years old – they’ve been together as long as I’ve been alive, though. Their song “Up the Ladder to the Roof” was popular on the radio station that my mother listened to, and I LOVED it. Through all of my other favourites in music – Eurodance, Celtic Rock, etc – this one song has stood the test of time and remained a favourite all the way to today, for me.
I loved watching Brian Orser skate to “The Lion Sleeps Tonight“, and Landry/Johnston skate to “Bop til You Drop”.
As I got a little older, my little sister and my “peers” discovered boy bands… and I never understood the draw. My sister would plaster her wall with NKOTB posters… I would have to go to the Centennial Library in Downtown Winnipeg to search through Microfiche for old news articles about The Nylons, and print included photos off as MY wall decor. My little sister would have NKOTB dolls, a sleeping bag, accessories, etc.
… I got some FIMO clay and made jewelry inspired by the angular Silhouettes on the One Size Fits All album cover. Way too big and heavy for anyone to actually wear, but it was one of the few ways I could actually explore and express MY fandom.
When I was 12 or 13, I got dropped off to the Centennial Concert Hall, alone, for my very first concert. I was the youngest in the hall by DECADES… and I loved every minute of it! I’m pretty sure Micah Barnes sent me careening into puberty, too. He became my first celebrity crush, even though he was probably twice the age of all the boy band guys my sister and peers fawned over. That fabulous 90s hair! His dancing!
I remember so much of that concert so clearly, it’s amazing it’s made it with me this long. I can even remember the final line to a joke – more like a spoken word poem? – that the opening comedienne made. I remember she was blonde, and it was snarking about her ex boyfriend, in talking about his sweater. “It was 100% ACRYLIC.”
I learned about relationships. Rather than grow up on some of the relationship themes you see in boy band music or other top 40 stuff, I grew up listening to a more mature message. “That Kind of Man” warned me about.. well, that kind of guy… long before any instance of “The Talk”. The Stars are Ours, A Touch of Your Hand, Grown Man Cry… Sigh. So much beauty. I could rattle off song titles and themes all day. It was all night and day to the kind of relationship drama I’d hear about from kids in school… and a HUGE contrast to what I’d learned of relationships from my parents. They provided themes and examples to aspire to, when nothing in my life did.
When I was about 16, I saw them in concert again – again, on my own – and I’ll never forget what happened. The guys had said something that prompted a cheer from the crowd, and I’d let out a LOUD “WOO!”. Arnold Robinson pointed right in my direction and said something raunchy. I don’t even remember what it was, exactly… I just remember turning bright red and trying to disappear into my seat. To this day, I feel awful about it. Like… guilty somehow. There was no way he could have known he was saying something like that to a 16 year old – I think the next youngest person there was in their 30s! I felt awful!
Arnold was always my favourite. He had this deep, rich voice… unlike anything I’d heard before, or have heard since. The passion and energy he put into it.. Ah hell, lemme just share a video. The sound isn’t the best on this, but trust me, in person? Goosebumps.
.. And here come the tears. Augh. He passed away a few years ago, and … I don’t have words.
He had retired from the group around the same time I moved to the USA. I was so upset, I hadn’t bought a CD or seen them live since moving to Minnesota ten years ago.
Yes, I know I’m a terrible fan. In my defense… you should never underestimate an autistic person’s inability to handle change. I try to be good about it most of the time.. And most of the time, I CAN roll with the punches. Arnold leaving the group? NO.
I was still feeling pretty petulant about it when I heard the news of the farewell tour. I tearfully told my husband that we would need to plan a last minute trip to Winnipeg, and he was totally fine with it. As it was happening the day after our 10th Anniversary, we decided to consider the trip to be our anniversary “thing”.
As we arrived at the concert venue, I changed my Facebook status to “I’m about to be emotionally compromised, send kitty pics, please!”… and then proceeded to bawl through the whole damn thing. (Thank you to all my friends who responded my request, by the way – HUGE thread of adorable cat photos was there for me when the concert was over!).
It’s weird when you get really emotional, and you can’t figure out why. It’s like someone just turned the faucet on in the beginning, and I couldn’t do anything about it. I spent a good deal of the concert lost in my own head.
“This is the last time I’ll hear this song live”.
“I am such an idiot for not seeing them more often, while I still could”
“I miss Arnold. I remember exactly how he sounded, singing this very song. RIP”
“This group started the year I was born. Claude has been at this as long as I’ve been alive. Now it’s over. *Insert various thoughts on facing my own mortality*”
… and then there was the matter of trying to figure out why it bothered me SO much. Many people there were fans, and not ugly crying their way through it, after all.
What I came up with was this: Having loved them for almost as long as I’ve been alive, their music has really factored into a lot of memories for me, both good and bad. I’ve listened to their music in celebration of some life events, and their music has gotten me through some other, horrible life events.
During the darkest years of my life, growing up with constant physical, verbal and psychological abuse at the hands of my mother and stepfather, their music was there for me, a mental escape from the hell I was living in. When I got out of that and moved in with my grandparents around age 12, they were the ones who drove me to that downtown library, and who dropped me off for concerts. When my grandparents passed away, I consoled myself with that music. Through every move, every nasty breakup, every major life event… I think The Nylons are the closest thing I’ve had to consistency in my life.
Once I realized that THAT was what was upsetting me, the tears slowed somewhat. I still cried a few times more during the concert – some out of happiness, some from laughing so hard, etc.
The concert was amazing, as always. You know, four year old me had incredible taste – I can’t think of any group with anywhere near the talent of these guys. Just ridiculous control over their voices, their lungs, etc. I love their banter. I loved the addition of rapping, such as in “Don’t Look Any Further” – where the rap was performed by a guest artist. (OMG, can we appreciate Micah’s hair for a moment? Glorious)
Claude… man, I’ve seen him in concert when he still had dark hair- now, it’s white. The amazing thing is – for the most part – he sounds exactly the same as I remember him sounding in that first concert… with about as much energy, to boot!
At the beginning of the concert, I joked to my husband “Quick, guess which one is the original member?” and his reply was “The one with the most energy on stage?”… and Claude really kept it up the whole way. Dancing around, great showmanship.. Even doing the moonwalk at one point. I wish I had half that energy NOW, never mind “when I get to be that age”.
… I finally accepted Gavin Hope. It only took me 22 years to get over my snit about Micah no longer being in the group. Good lord… I am such an asshole! Gavin was hilarious. He won serious points with my husband by doing the Carlton, and kept us laughing the whole time. I wish I’d given him a chance sooner… what a treasure he is!
At one point, they surprised the audience with performing a “bucket list” song – “For the Longest Time”. Apparently I was FAR from alone in wishing they’d do it, and they did NOT disappoint. (Bawled through this one, too!). How often do you see a cover that blows the original away? It was very special… an honour and a privilege to watch / hear!
Towards the end, they performed “Me and the Boys” – a song that I’ve loved for decades, but I’m pretty certain that I’ve never actually heard live. It sounded like some of the lyrics had been changed to personalize it to some of the new members, but I couldn’t make out what was being said in those parts. When Claude belted out “Dance, well I can really dance, you ought to see me move across the floor”, it felt… poignant, somehow. These were lyrics written over 30 years earlier, and here he was singing it with just as much energy, and living up to it – he really CAN dance, and we really enjoyed seeing him move across the floor… myself for the last time, my husband for the first AND last time.
… and it also felt special that this – the final time I’ll get to see them live – was also the first time I’ve shared the experience with someone. It felt profound and symbolic, but not in a way I can really put into words coherently. The concert happened at a time when I was already facing themes of saying goodbye, and losing ties/connections to the past. To share the experience for the first time, with my amazing husband – the light that has balanced all the dark of the past – it was beautiful.
(As I write this blog entry, and think back on all of those earlier themes on what to aspire to in relationships, I am so happy to report that my husband lives up to all of them. I’m listening to some of their older tracks as I write this, and they give me the same warm fuzzy feeling they have my whole life… just like he does. Comfort, love, safety, reliability…)
We didn’t stay for the meet and greet, because I was a mess and knew I wouldn’t be able to put anything worthy into words at the time. I guess you could say…
I won’t ask you to stay
I can love you when you’re far away
Please, don’t stop to say goodbye
Unless you want to see a grown woman cry
…SO here I am, trying to be a little less messy (whoops) and a little more coherent, trying to put into words… just how much this group and their music has meant to me.
If you guys are reading, thank you for everything you are and have done. For all of the lightness, smiles, laughs, joy, and tears that you’ve brought not only me, but the rest of your fans. You are amazing – a national treasure – and I wish you all of the best in your future pursuits.
Today is “World Autism Awareness Day”, or – as those of us on the spectrum tend to prefer – “World Autism Acceptance Day”.
Maybe I’ve just done a really good job of culling the herd over the past few Aprils, but I was heartened to see a few positive posts in my feed this morning… from people not on the spectrum. I haven’t seen any “light it up blue” yet, no positive mention of Autism Speaks… maybe this is the year that things finally start to turn around for us.
It may seem like such a small thing, the difference between awareness and acceptance, but it’s actually a big deal.
You see, the “awareness” campaigns to date have usually been hugely negative towards people on the spectrum. The “awareness” has been that of the scare tactic variety, usually to drum up donations. We get compared to cancer, have to watch as these campaigns tell people that autism will ruin their marriages, and more.
This brand of “awareness” goes beyond hurt feelings, it demonizes us in a way that is exceptionally harmful:
– Every time there’s a mass shooting, it’s speculated that the shooter has Aspergers.
– Parents have been conditioned to MOURN their child when a diagnosis of autism is on the table. The child isn’t dead, they just run a different operating system.
– Some parents are so scared of autism, that there is a huge market for snake oil “cures”. People torture their autistic kids in ways that would never be deemed appropriate ways to treat humans. My personal “favourite” are the people who give their autistic children BLEACH, both orally and by enema. Why is it that WE are seen as the sick ones, the ones who need a cure?
– When it comes to justice, we are seen as less than human. If an autistic person commits a crime, they are a “monster”. If an autistic person is murdered – usually by their parent(s)… there is a huge outpouring of sympathy for their murderer. The fact that an actual human child was murdered by their parent is almost completely lost. It’s extremely disheartening to read that another one of us was murdered, and be subjected to “that poor woman!” and comments about how they were so brave/patient/etc to put up with their child for so long.
This morning, I read some information that stated that autistic people who hide their autistic traits “often have high degrees of anxiety or other mental health problems”, from the constant acting. I believe it!
For me, I spent my whole life trying to hide who I was, trying to fit in. While I wouldn’t say I had any sort of clinical depression.. I was far from happy. It is a LOT of work, a lot of pressure, and in the end… how do I put this?
You know the feeling when you’re in a relationship, and you’re doing ALL of the work, all of the emotional investment, and care more than the other person? Imagine that feeling with regards to literally every person you interact with on a regular basis.
That’s pretty much what it comes down to, and it’s exhausting. You are constantly working to present in a way that is deemed acceptable by neurotypical standards, obsessing over any potential misstep, etc… while all of these people aren’t doing anything to understand YOU, to accommodate you, etc. They don’t even KNOW you, they know this facade that you have to work hard to keep up.
My own personal self acceptance was the best thing I ever did for myself. When I stopped seeing myself as broken, when I stopped seeing my operating system as something to hide/be ashamed of, and when I stopped exhausting myself, trying to fit in… life got so much better.
I made friends. Genuine friends, who I actually meshed with. People who liked me for ME.
I met and married an amazing guy. He just GETS me – and vice versa. It’s awesome!
Daily life became less miserable. I stopped trying to live the life of a neurotypical, and embraced the things – gifts – that made me different. I stopped hiding my intelligence (this was mostly regarding dating life!). I stopped trying to fit in, and to do things “the way they’re supposed to be done”. I stopped being ashamed of things like the fact that I need to change careers every 3-5 years, and just went with it – and I am so much happier and more fulfilled for it.
Life is… good.
Life is so much better with acceptance, rather than “awareness”. I was never UNaware of who I was, even before we had at name for it in my mid teens. I just didn’t really get to live well until *I* accepted myself in my mid 20s.
I could rant for hours. I just wanted to post a few thoughts on “awareness” vs “acceptance”. If you truly want life to get better for those on the spectrum, please aim for acceptance.
As far as awareness goes, I am a fan of the “Nothing about us, without us” stance. Don’t look to organizations like Autism Speaks for awareness… look to people on the spectrum. We’re human, and we’re (mostly) able to speak for ourselves. Some of the most beautiful and well spoken writers out there are completely nonverbal.
In closing, let me just repeat a sentiment I’ve put out there a few times: For real “awareness” this April, please Google the phrase “Autism Speaks does not speak for me”. See what autistic people really feel about this organization.
Spoiler: You will not find another organization more despised by the people it purports to champion, than Autism Speaks.
If you would like to support an organization that actually supports the lives of people on the spectrum, I recommend Autism Self Advocacy Network. They are by and FOR Autistics.
One of the annoying ways we were impacted by the 2011 North Minneapolis Tornado was that any chance of taking any sort of decent vacation was now off the table for the foreseeable future. We’d been planning to visit my beloved Canadian east cost for a couple years at that point, so this killed me.
Lately, the idea that we had NO clue when we’d ever be able to make that trip finally cracked me, and we decided to find a bit of a reasonable substitution for the “sit by the side of the ocean and do nothing” trip I’d been longing for for years. We decided to go see what Duluth, MN was like – as opposed to a full day of travel and thousands of dollars in plane tickets, Duluth is a quick two hour drive for us!
Man, that trip did my soul some serious good that weekend. While the air lacked the saltiness I’d been dreaming of, it did have that same clean, crisp quality that I so desired. The rocky shoreline did kind of satisfy my need to sit on a rock my the ocean, and it really did bring me the same sort of peace that the ocean brought me, years ago.
So, I figured I’d share some memories and photos we took on our little “mental health vacation” 🙂
A funny thing happened while we were on the trip – it was almost like fate decided to theme our weekend. A whole bunch of little things happened that made me smile, giggle, or just sort of revel in feeling more at home, than I ever have in Minneapolis.
Early on, I accidentally bumped into a guy behind me.. who promptly apologized to ME. I hadn’t had that happen in so long, it actually made me nostalgic. Yep, it may be a stereotype that we Canadians apologize for everything, but it’s one rooted in reality. I STILL apologize to people that bump into me! What a weird thing to feel all gooey about, eh?
Later on, we were waiting to board a small boat for a dinner cruise we were looking forward to. I was regaling my husband with stories about going out on small fishing boats to see icebergs, whales, or just to generally enjoy large, choppy waters (I LOVE CHOPPY WATER!)… and my desire to buy a boat some day, when the loudspeaker started playing Great Big Sea’s “A Boat Like Gideon Brown“. I BAWLED. I hadn’t heard that song in years, and it always used to get to me, back in the day. It seemed so weird and out of place, I hadn’t heard it anywhere, at any time, since moving to the USA. It wasn’t one of their mainstream hits or anything – the timing was so weird and perfect. More than ever, I didn’t want to end up like the father in that song.
As we sat down for dinner, the captain came over the loudspeaker to welcome everyone to the cruise. The voice sounded familiar. It took a minute to figure it out, but he sounded like Bob/Doug McKenzie! I had to laugh – when I first moved to MN, my husband made me watch “Fargo” as an introduction to his culture. I made him watch “Strange Brew”, for the same reason!
The guy across me looked at me quizzingly when I laughed, and I explained. He agreed, and I noticed that he looked familiar. While trying to figure out if I actually knew him, I realized that he was a dead ringer for Stefan Brogren, of Degrassi fame. I am NOT too proud to admit that I had a bit of a crush on “Snake”, back in the day!
As I was spaced out and enjoying the cool air and gorgeous views, some guy snagged my husband to ask if he could take a photo of him and his girlfriend. He made a lucky choice on who to ask – Porter used to be a wedding photographer, and has years of experience with pro photography.
… and then the guy – Casey – surprised both Porter and his girlfriend Amber by PROPOSING. This was actually the second time that my husband was lucky enough to photograph someone’s engagement – the other time, he was thrown into photographing an engagement on stage at W00tstock.
Amber and Casey were so sweet and happy, Porter took a few nicer photos with the pro camera, too. Congrats again, Amber and Casey!
The rest of our little mini vacation was spent taking in the gorgeous scenery, photos below. Can’t wait to go back!