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Today is Autistic Pride Day: Let’s celebrate our diversity

I have been active in the Autistic community for some years now. I have come to realise that autism as a diagnosis has been somewhat of a failed experiment. Diagnostic models have failed to capture the intricacies of what they dub “autism spectrum disorder”. A lot of the issues with the diagnostic process itself come back to racial and socioeconomic bias in research literature; there are also significant issues with people gendering autism, creating exclusion by denial of gender and sexually diverse experiences.

The Autistic community is diverse. While autism itself is an abstract concept, the very real Autistic people that exist come from all parts of the tapestry of life. One might hope that the days of autism being a diagnosis of middle-class white males is coming to an end, but there is still significant disparity. This article highlights the significant gulf in diagnostic rates in the US alone. It is clear that BIPOC people are being ignored despite the countless voices from their communities speaking up.

I also recently wrote about queerness and being Autistic. Gender diversity and sexualities that do not fit into perceived heteronormativity account for a great deal of the Autistic community. Again, these groups may have a harder time getting a diagnosis due to ideas that position autism as something that is only observed between cis-gendered males. It is clear that if you don’t fit the historical research, diagnosticians will deny you exist.

But you do exist, like all of us. You have the same strengths and struggles, plus other struggles that I can not know as a person with the privileges I have.

When we speak of Autistic pride, I think many view it as cute little get togethers, spending time amongst our own people. That’s not entirely wrong, but Autistic pride, much like any pride, is so much more than celebrating. We are protesting. We are refusing to be ashamed, and what we need to stand against moving forward is the bigoted gatekeeping of the few who believe that multiply marginalised communities should be targeted and minimised.

Autistic pride requires us to root out the bigotry in not just wider society but also our own community. If there is even one person who can not celebrate their Autistic pride, then none of us can. Autistic people are a diverse people, and our fight will not succeed if we are not also fighting for our neurokin who exist at the intersections.

So today, and for all days to come. If someone asks you what Autistic pride is; tell them it is our fight to make sure the world has a place for all Autistic people, not just the select few who fit into the world normative standards. Let’s build a world together where intersectional communities can feel safe to express their experiences without fear of backlash or risk to wellbeing and life.

There is no Autistic liberation while any one of us is being oppressed.

The link between autism and Queerness

The other day I live recorded a podcast episode about neurodivergence and queerness. In it, we discussed the fact that Autistic and otherwise neurodivergent people are more likely to be Queer/2SLGBTQIA+. The discussion was very good, and we really got into some of our experiences.

It’s no secret that Queerness is a significant intersection with Autistic experience. Aside from anecdotes from within the community, studies such as Janssen et al (2016) and Strang et al (2020) indicate that not only are we more likely to be gender-diverse, but that Queer communities are more likely to contain Autistic people. Strang on particular speaks of the lack of research looking into experiences over the lifespan and the need for such longitudinal study to be carried out.

With so much Queerness in the Autistic community, one might wonder why this intersection is so significant. I think the answer is quite simple. Albeit somewhat theory heavy.

Neuronormativity.

Neuronormativity is pervasive, and if you think that it only effects neurodivergent people you are wrong. Both BIPOC and 2SLGBTQIA+ communities have fallen foul of the belief that there is a standard of neurology we should all achieve. It was not so long ago that being gay or transgender was listed in the DSM as a psychiatric disorder.

Autistic people naturally queer neuronormative standards. In this sense, queer is a verb. It is the subversion of societal expectation. Through our rejection of neuronormativity, we create space to explore our gender and sexuality (or lack thereof) unencumbered by the chains of bigoted standards of being.

When we begin to dismantle neuronormativity, we also begin to dismantle heteronormativity. Our experience of ourselves and attraction (or lack of attraction) to others is built upon the experiences we have of our environment. Experiences that we have through the lens of being Autistic. You can not separate autism from our queerness any more than you can separate a person from their brain. They are part of us, and without them, we would be someone different.

Thus, to neuroqueer in society is to become more than just neurologically queer, but also queer with respect to gender and sexuality.

With this said, there is still bigotry in the Autistic community. There are those who weaponise our intersectionality against us, and wield it as a tool to invalidate and oppress us; and yes, there are oppressive attitudes within our own community.

We must continue to build a community that is loving and accepting of all of the diversity within Autistic experience and recognise that Autistic people all experience the world in their own unique way.

The relationship between queerness and being Autistic

“Queer is a term used by those wanting to reject specific labels of romantic orientation, sexual orientation and/or gender identity. It can also be a way of rejecting the perceived norms of the LGBT community (racism, sizeism, ableism etc). Although some LGBT people view the word as a slur, it was reclaimed in the late 80s by the queer community who have embraced it.”

stonewall.org.uk

I am queer, and I am also Autistic. In fact, it would be more accurate to say that I’m queer and multiply neurodivergent; I am not just Autistic, but also ADHD and Schizophrenic. Some might wrongly assume I should keep my queerness out of discussions of neurodivergence, but the two are inextricably linked.

As an Autistic person, I find myself constantly questioning the status quo. Even before the discovery of my neurodivergence, the concept of normality felt painful and alien to me. I used to believe that normality (perhaps more accurately, normativity) consisted of arbitrary rules, but I realise now they are not arbitrary at all.

Normativity is designed to oppress those who do not comfortably fit into it. For Autistic and otherwise neurodivergent people, we struggle to fit into the system because of our neurology. For queer people, we do not fit into the capitalist fairy tale of binary gender and monogamy within the confines of heterosexuality. This is neuronormativty and heteronormativity respectively.

The relationship between the two lies in my abject rejection of normativity. I have neuroqueered myself into a fluid and radical identity that stands opposed to what colonial society wants me to be. This is more than just “acting Autistic”. I embrace queerness in all aspects of my life, sexuality included.

Queerness in this respect is not solely about who you are or who you sleep with. For me, my queerness is an act of defiance, a refusal to be contained. Being queer leaves me the space to be whomever I wish, to explore avenues that society would rather cordon off from me.

If I were not Autistic, perhaps if my particular mix of neurodivergence were different, I would not have this drive to liberate myself from the cult of normality. We were sold the lie of essentialist identities, and my bodymind is painfully aware of its dishonesty. I am queer because the world does not want me to be queer.

To be contained into fixed and sanctioned identities is to entangle the Self in the chains of normativity. Queerness, then, is the angle grinder cutting through those chains. I am openly queer so that it may be safer for others to be queer. My pride is not egotistical, but a refusal to be ashamed of any part of my being.

I reject normativity in all kinds, including the identity politics of my perceived peer groups. None of this would happen if I were not Autistic.

Queerness and me

Queerness. It’s a word that I hid from for over 30 years, and yet, as I type it, I find myself feeling a deep comfort. I have long known that the space between myself and “typical” society is far greater than the purported six degrees of separation. I have at times considered that gulf to be one of existential orders of magnitude. The concept of “alone in a crowded room” is not alien to me. Nothing much is alien to me, except perhaps (at times) myself.

Being Autistic is a core part of my sense of Self. I understand myself through the lense of Autisticness, I embody my neurology unapologetically. Of course, there is far more to my experience than being Autistic. I am also Schizophrenic. Some might pity me, offering me sympathy for my mental illness. Illness is a word that does not sit right with me.

Schizophrenic, yes. Unwell? If I was unwell, should it not be quantifiable? A value that can be measured by a body that lacks the homeostasis that allows it to function properly.

No, I am neurodivergent. That doesn’t mean I don’t suffer, but I believe we must externalise suffering into the environment. Suffering does not arise in the Self, it is a function of inhabiting a space that was not meant for you.

So where does queerness fit into this?

I have come to understand that there are boundaries between the typical and atypical bodiment of the self. These boundaries are man made structures. Social conventions waiting to be transcended. Much like the way I transcend the convention of neurotypicality, delving into divergent neurology, I find myself openly subverting all expectations placed upon myself.

Queerness, to me, is not about who I love. Who I feel attraction to is such a small part of my queerness. In my universe, queerness is the subversion of a reality that has been imposed upon me. If experiencing psychosis has taught me anything, it’s that reality is not a fixed point. While being Autistic has taught me that society’s truths about what is and isn’t “normal” are closer to the machinations of a propaganda machine than anything objectively true.

No.

I am Queer because I do not belong in normative society. My neurology has made it impossible to assimilate. My queerness manifests from the urgency of an existence that requires me to carve out and defend a space to exist in. The boundary I push is the need be contained. I permit myself to take up space. I permit myself to experience my reality.

In many ways, My queerness or perhaps, my neuroqueerness, has allowed me to bookmark a place in my own story, one in which I can let go of the self-hatred for my bodymind’s tenuous relationship with reality.

It is okay to feel what I feel. It is okay to think what I think. I am no more defined by the intrusive nature of my traumatised thoughts, than I am by the colour of my hair. They are a small part of a wider human structure. It’s okay for me to admit that my sense of Self is constructed from interactions with others. We all build ourselves from the words uttered about us and to us.

Queerness doesn’t feel strange to me. It’s a liberation from the chains of normative violence. It’s freedom to think and feel without the moral judgements imposed by society through me. It is freedom from policing my own existence. It is existential liberation.

Neuroqueer: Gender Identity and Autistic Embodiment

This article was co-authored by David Gray-Hammond and Katie Munday

Neuroqueering means to subconsciously queer yourself by way of your neurology. One’s neurology is queer and therefore so is one’s Neurodivergent or Disabled embodiment (Walker, 2021). So, what does this mean for gender?

There appears to be a large overlap between LGBTQ+ identities and being Autistic, including being trans, non-binary or otherwise gender divergent (see references below). Autistic folk grow up with our own distinct culture, language and communication. Perhaps due to this that many of us are disinclined to take up prefabricated gender identities.

Our understanding of gender (like many things) is queered by our Autistic neurology. We simply do not embody non-Autistic gender. If we are male, we are Autistically male, if we are female, we are Autistically female. Whatever gender we are (or are not), we embody this Autistically.

Even cisgender Autistics have a tendency to construct our own versions of our assigned gender. “Traditional” gender roles often make little to no sense to us, especially for those of us in same gender and/or polyamorous relationships. We extend the boundaries of gender, devising a path toward neuroqueerness (Katie Munday discusses this in their article on neuroqueer cartography found here).

Exploring gender off the beaten track, starts with us engaging differently in social learning. A lot of us take an anthropological stance, studying those around us so we can better shield ourselves, challenge norms, and live more authentically. Through this deep thinking, structuring and restructuring we find where we belong, or more typically we create where we belong. We understand structures as entirely malleable and make identities which make sense for ourselves, not for other people (see Doing gender the Autistic way).      

Some of us see the binary boxes of ‘male’ and ‘female’ and run for the hills – we are both, neither, in-between, some of us are spinning around in our own genderless galaxy. ‘Male’ and ‘female’ are strange arbitrary categories used to oppress those of us who are not men, or not considered masculine enough. So, many of us look at these categories of gender and throw them out the window – they are meaningless to us.

We are neuroqueering the very perception of the self.

References and further reading

Barnett, J.P., & Maticka-Tyndale, E. (2015). Qualitative exploration of sexual experiences among adults on the Autism Spectrum: Implications for sex education. Perspectives on Sexual and Reproductive Health, 47(4), 171–79. https://doi.org/10.1363/47e5715

Bush, H.H. (2016). Self-reported sexuality among women with and without autism spectrum disorder (ASD) (Unpublished doctoral dissertation). University of Massachusetts.

George, R., & Stokes, M.A. (2016). Gender is not on my agenda: gender dysphoria and autism spectrum disorder. In L.Mazzoni, and B,Vitiello (Eds.), Psychiatric symptoms and comorbidities in autism spectrum disorder (p.121-134). Springer.

George, R., & Stokes, M.A. (2018). Gender identity and sexual orientation in autism spectrum disorder. Autism, 22 (8), 970-982.

Van der Miesen, A.I.R., Hurley, H., Bai, A.M., & de Vries, A.L.C. (2018). Prevalence of the wish to be of the opposite gender in adolescents and adults with autism spectrum disorder. Archives of Sexual Behaviour, 47, 2307-2317.

Walker, N. (2021). Neuroqueer heresies: Notes on the neurodiversity paradigm, Autistic empowerment, and postnormal possibilities. Autonomous press.

Walsh, R.J., Krabbendam, P., De Winter, J., & Begeer, S. (2018). Brief report: gender identity in Autistic adults: associations with perceptual and socio-cognitive profiles. Journal of Autism and Developmental Disorders, 1-9.

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