You seem pretty
normal. Aren't we all just a little bit autistic? What is normal?
Labels go on soup cans.
You may have heard
some of these before. If you have an autistic friend, you've probably
even said them. In all likelihood, you meant to be inclusive and
open-minded. After all, your friend isn't that different from you.
Right? It doesn't make sense to slap a different label on them.
While this mindset
doesn't go entirely unappreciated, many of us in the Autistic
community feel that it's dismissive of the different challenges we
face on a daily basis. Even those of us who might appear on the
outside to be mostly normal have worked hard to be able to function
in a neuronormal world.
For many of us, the
difficulties are primarily centered around communication and social
norms. These are things that do not come naturally to us. That's not
to say we can't learn those skills. It just takes conscious effort
for us.
The truth is that we
autistic people are very well aware of our differences. Most of us
have come to terms with them, and are not ashamed of them. Most of us
have no problem with others acknowledging that those differences
exist. In short, there would be no word to describe the differences
if the differences weren't there.
What about severely
autistic people? Surely it's a compliment to say those of us at the
Asperger's end of the spectrum aren't like them?
In a word, no. Don't
forget that we have the same diagnosis as them, usually for many of
the same traits. To compliment someone by saying they aren't like
severely autistic people is to say that it's more preferable to be
'normal.' Such statements can make us uncomfortable sharing more
about ourselves too.
And let's not forget
the people we're making the comparison to. Let's imagine for a moment
if someone were to say that at least their friend isn't like you. My
guess is that you would find that insulting. It should always be
assumed that severely autistic people have feelings and know what's
being said about them.
There does appear to
be one time when no one seems to want to include themselves on the
autism spectrum. That would be immediately following a mass shooting,
such as the recent tragedy in Roseburg, Oregon.
Thankfully, the news
media has made a decision to not mention autism in a story without
some degree of relevance. When autism is mentioned without an
explanation of relevance, most people will determine the relevance on
their own, even when there is none. For example, speculating if a
mass shooter is autistic may lead people to believe that autism
caused the shooter's actions.
Unfortunately, most
pundits and bloggers don't hold themselves to the same standard. In
an attempt to understand what led a person to kill several people,
some will attempt to diagnose the shooter. Not only is this
impossible to do simply from a news story and some vague descriptions
from friends and family of the shooter, but it's also highly
irresponsible.
Making
unprofessional autism diagnoses for mass shooters in an attempt to
understand their actions has in the past caused autistic people to be
afraid to go to work or school out of fear for how they might be
treated. It has also spawned organizations, such as Families Against
Autistic Shooters. The world this creates, even though it's
temporary, only adds to the difficulties of living with autism, while
doing nothing to promote understanding.
In summary, we in
the Autistic community have no problem with society recognizing
differences between us and those surrounding us. The differences are
very real. The problem only comes when those differences are used to
explain unrelated behaviors.
Ignoring or fearing
difference only drives people further apart. In order to fully
integrate the human family, differences need to be understood and
celebrated. This is the part where I call for autistic people to be
proud of yourselves and educate those around you, as well as for
non-autistic people to talk to and learn from your autistic friends
and family members. After all, we might have differences, but we're
all human beings first.
