I'm going to get a bit social model on you folks today.
I used to do gymnastics, and I dance. I participate in 4 kinds of dance and am therefore dancing 5 days a week. This isn't something I did when I was young, I'm not particularly musical, so what draws me to it?
This is something I've had to think about a lot with the access issues and intentionally harmful lying about access of the Portland swing dance/lindy hop community in particular. And, not only that, but sometimes dancing hurts. Belly dance class makes my old gymnast knees hurt. I've got bruises in new, exciting places from modern. Ballet makes me hurt everywhere. And if my back, knee, or ankle doesn't already hurt come Saturday night? Well, that's what swing dance is for, right? But I cannot give it up.
Part of that may be this:
When I am dancing, I am not disabled.
I am still Autistic when I am dancing, possibly at my most Autistic-sometimes I am a being of pure joy and sensation while I dance-this is what gymnastics did for me, & that is what I am trying to recapture, I think. I still have epilepsy and my other various cooties. Not a single thing within me changed. My neurology is the same. My physicality is the same. I am the same.
All that changed is my environment, and the expectations it has for me. The expectation is that I can move with the music in a specific way. I can move with the music in those specific ways, and I can do it at an average or better proficiency. When the language is movement, when the social cues are the leading and following of the whole body rather than of subtleties, I am on even footing. I may not exactly shine, but I am also not struggling, not having to run everything through translators and emulators.
In the environment of pure movement, I am not Other. And I love and accept and embrace my Autistic self with my whole heart and soul, but it is restful to be Same for a couple hours. It is restful to have a place where things are easy, where I am seen as equal, as like, as same without fighting for it.
Because in that place with the mirrors and the hardwood floors, I am not disabled. I am just another dancer.
When the mob and the press and the whole world tell you to move, your job is to plant yourself like a tree beside the river of truth, and tell the whole world
"No, you move."
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
Speaking ill of the dead.
It's a taboo in our culture, to speak ill of the dead. When someone dies we are supposed to forget the bad things they did and dwell only on the good.
I cannot forget. I will not forget. I will not be silent. My story is mine, and I will not edit it for ghosts.
My mother died 53 weeks ago. She is the ghost for whom I will not edit my story. I have written about some of her abusive behavior before, and I wrote a bit last year when she died, but there are specific things she did that are not ok and it is time.
My mother was an emotional abuser. And I'm triggered to shit any way, so I am going to tell you about her favorite tactics.
Trigger Warning for emotional abuse, confinement, suicide threat descriptions
Starting when I was very young, my mother would make threats of the abandonment type. They evolved as I grew older.
When I was quite young, my mother would threaten to leave me places. Not like that thing that parents do with their little kids where they wave bye-bye to transition out of McDonalds or wherever. That thing where they say that if you don't stop crying right now they are going to leave you where you are and pretend you are not theirs. Now, I have enough siblings that this is a practical impossibility, but five year olds don't really recognize that. This threat didn't last very long-you can't terrorize a small child who cannot handle a mall into not melting down at the mall while still at the mall, it turns out. It evolved.
When I was seven or eight, I found out somehow that foster care and orphanages were things, that some children did not have parents, that some children could not live with their parents. I don't remember how I came to this information. I do remember my mother using it as a weapon. For several years, every time I got overstimulated, "if you can't control yourself I will take you to the Children's Home". Every time I would not wear what she wanted me to wear, "well maybe you'd like the clothes from a foster mother better." My room wasn't clean (and it was never, ever clean. Nowhere in our house was clean)? "They'd teach you to keep a room clean at an orphanage". This was the constant over the head threat. At least 5 times she started to pack a suitcase for me because I was acting like an overloaded Autistic child, or because I was acting like a child in general.
This, too, would evolve.
So, for my whole life I have had a fear of confinement. Not like "oh, that'd suck" but like "give me liberty or give me death, and I mean that literally". Once I got old enough to know that orphanages weren't really a thing in the US, and to understand a bit more about foster care (and to have double dared her to call CPS a couple times), my mother had a new abandonment threat: she was going to have me committed.
This was where she'd stack emotional abuse tactics. First she would trigger a meltdown. I've got some pretty significant sensory integration weirdness goin' on, and I have always very much needed to know exactly what was going on. File nails right next to me while changing my schedule? Make me late for things with the worst sound in the world? Refuse to do what you said was going to be done when it was going to be done? Yeah I can't handle that now, 20 years later. And it was so much more chaotic there. So my mother would start a meltdown, and then instead of leaving me alone she would yell at me, hold me down while yelling at me, and then demand I calm down or she would call for an ambulance to take me to the psych ward, where she could make them keep me forever.
Yes. My mother told me she could make the psychiatric ward keep me forever if I did not stop crying while she was shouting in my face. This was supposed to be "for my own good". She would never call, but she also would not leave until I was too exhausted to melt any further.
There was a further evolution of this tactic: calling the police.
This did not last long because, while it inspired exactly the terror that was her goal, it did not inspire obedience to every little whim the way the foster care threats of my youth did. It inspired terror, hiding, and running away. She also realized that it had deadly potential, since I was in the habit of calling her bluff, calling everyone's bluff really, and do not react well to being physically handled without permission. She could have, would have killed me just for a sense of power, but something stopped her after the time a cop actually showed up and told her that the next time she called, he was going to have to take someone in. She had played the same trigger a meltdown game, but she had waited til I was too tired to call, so I just looked sleepy, red, puffy, and bruised from where she had grabbed me. This wasn't what she had wanted at all! And if she called while I was still energetic enough to melt down or be a smartass, I was out the window and away. So the police only came the once.
That doesn't mean my mother stopped being emotionally abusive though. She had another big powerful abandonment tactic, beyond the "sending you away so I don't have to deal with you". It was the conversation stopper. It was the one that had every child in fear. And it was the one that was effective regardless of the age of the child who she claimed was "pushing her" to it:
My mother manipulated us by threatening suicide.
Frequently. Often. Many more times than I can count.
She always told us how she was going to do it, too. It was never "If you don't stop embarrassing me at church, I am going to kill myself". It was always "if you don't stop embarrassing me at church, I am going to sit in the tub and cut every vein I can see until I die" or "jump into traffic" or "take a bunch of asprin and drink a box of wine" or "jump off the roof of the house" or "poke a beehive" (she is allergic to bees).
Not only did she tell us how she was going to do it-and she would think of how she was going to kill herself easily, on the fly, when we needed manipulation to behave how she wished-she would tell us to imagine the body. To think of how the body would look immediately and at the funeral. Would it be open casket? How would we feel then? Which would be worse, a mangled or not mangled corpse?
It was twisted. It was not ok. It was unacceptable emotional abuse, and there's really no way to say it was for our own good. After the third or fourth time she did this, I came to the conclusion she wouldn't do it-I think she was going to jump from the roof to the street, and there's no way she could get on the roof or jump that far-but it was always scary. And then I would always be oh so angry that she made me do what she wanted without just asking like a grownass adult.
This is not ok. This is not the legacy to leave one's children with-one of abuse, manipulation, fear, feeling that if they step one foot out of line, and you kill yourself, it is all their fault. No. That is absolute bullshit. And we never called her bluff out loud, but sometimes? I wish I had.
She often said if she killed herself we could never say anything bad about her. This too is bullshit. She died of lung cancer, which she arguably gave to herself as a heavy smoker. I am speaking ill of her now. Nothing that isn't true. But nothing she wanted heard.
I cannot forget. I will not forget. I will not be silent. My story is mine, and I will not edit it for ghosts.
My mother died 53 weeks ago. She is the ghost for whom I will not edit my story. I have written about some of her abusive behavior before, and I wrote a bit last year when she died, but there are specific things she did that are not ok and it is time.
My mother was an emotional abuser. And I'm triggered to shit any way, so I am going to tell you about her favorite tactics.
Trigger Warning for emotional abuse, confinement, suicide threat descriptions
Starting when I was very young, my mother would make threats of the abandonment type. They evolved as I grew older.
When I was quite young, my mother would threaten to leave me places. Not like that thing that parents do with their little kids where they wave bye-bye to transition out of McDonalds or wherever. That thing where they say that if you don't stop crying right now they are going to leave you where you are and pretend you are not theirs. Now, I have enough siblings that this is a practical impossibility, but five year olds don't really recognize that. This threat didn't last very long-you can't terrorize a small child who cannot handle a mall into not melting down at the mall while still at the mall, it turns out. It evolved.
When I was seven or eight, I found out somehow that foster care and orphanages were things, that some children did not have parents, that some children could not live with their parents. I don't remember how I came to this information. I do remember my mother using it as a weapon. For several years, every time I got overstimulated, "if you can't control yourself I will take you to the Children's Home". Every time I would not wear what she wanted me to wear, "well maybe you'd like the clothes from a foster mother better." My room wasn't clean (and it was never, ever clean. Nowhere in our house was clean)? "They'd teach you to keep a room clean at an orphanage". This was the constant over the head threat. At least 5 times she started to pack a suitcase for me because I was acting like an overloaded Autistic child, or because I was acting like a child in general.
This, too, would evolve.
So, for my whole life I have had a fear of confinement. Not like "oh, that'd suck" but like "give me liberty or give me death, and I mean that literally". Once I got old enough to know that orphanages weren't really a thing in the US, and to understand a bit more about foster care (and to have double dared her to call CPS a couple times), my mother had a new abandonment threat: she was going to have me committed.
This was where she'd stack emotional abuse tactics. First she would trigger a meltdown. I've got some pretty significant sensory integration weirdness goin' on, and I have always very much needed to know exactly what was going on. File nails right next to me while changing my schedule? Make me late for things with the worst sound in the world? Refuse to do what you said was going to be done when it was going to be done? Yeah I can't handle that now, 20 years later. And it was so much more chaotic there. So my mother would start a meltdown, and then instead of leaving me alone she would yell at me, hold me down while yelling at me, and then demand I calm down or she would call for an ambulance to take me to the psych ward, where she could make them keep me forever.
Yes. My mother told me she could make the psychiatric ward keep me forever if I did not stop crying while she was shouting in my face. This was supposed to be "for my own good". She would never call, but she also would not leave until I was too exhausted to melt any further.
There was a further evolution of this tactic: calling the police.
This did not last long because, while it inspired exactly the terror that was her goal, it did not inspire obedience to every little whim the way the foster care threats of my youth did. It inspired terror, hiding, and running away. She also realized that it had deadly potential, since I was in the habit of calling her bluff, calling everyone's bluff really, and do not react well to being physically handled without permission. She could have, would have killed me just for a sense of power, but something stopped her after the time a cop actually showed up and told her that the next time she called, he was going to have to take someone in. She had played the same trigger a meltdown game, but she had waited til I was too tired to call, so I just looked sleepy, red, puffy, and bruised from where she had grabbed me. This wasn't what she had wanted at all! And if she called while I was still energetic enough to melt down or be a smartass, I was out the window and away. So the police only came the once.
That doesn't mean my mother stopped being emotionally abusive though. She had another big powerful abandonment tactic, beyond the "sending you away so I don't have to deal with you". It was the conversation stopper. It was the one that had every child in fear. And it was the one that was effective regardless of the age of the child who she claimed was "pushing her" to it:
My mother manipulated us by threatening suicide.
Frequently. Often. Many more times than I can count.
She always told us how she was going to do it, too. It was never "If you don't stop embarrassing me at church, I am going to kill myself". It was always "if you don't stop embarrassing me at church, I am going to sit in the tub and cut every vein I can see until I die" or "jump into traffic" or "take a bunch of asprin and drink a box of wine" or "jump off the roof of the house" or "poke a beehive" (she is allergic to bees).
Not only did she tell us how she was going to do it-and she would think of how she was going to kill herself easily, on the fly, when we needed manipulation to behave how she wished-she would tell us to imagine the body. To think of how the body would look immediately and at the funeral. Would it be open casket? How would we feel then? Which would be worse, a mangled or not mangled corpse?
It was twisted. It was not ok. It was unacceptable emotional abuse, and there's really no way to say it was for our own good. After the third or fourth time she did this, I came to the conclusion she wouldn't do it-I think she was going to jump from the roof to the street, and there's no way she could get on the roof or jump that far-but it was always scary. And then I would always be oh so angry that she made me do what she wanted without just asking like a grownass adult.
This is not ok. This is not the legacy to leave one's children with-one of abuse, manipulation, fear, feeling that if they step one foot out of line, and you kill yourself, it is all their fault. No. That is absolute bullshit. And we never called her bluff out loud, but sometimes? I wish I had.
She often said if she killed herself we could never say anything bad about her. This too is bullshit. She died of lung cancer, which she arguably gave to herself as a heavy smoker. I am speaking ill of her now. Nothing that isn't true. But nothing she wanted heard.
Gen Eric Guest Post: Overgrown Bullies Pick On Teenage Assault Victim
Preface: This is a guest post by Gen Eric. Both he and I are pretty yucked out by the infantilizing language that Melissa's mother used to describe her in the article, most notably the assumption that she has but a basic understanding of right and wrong and that's why this is upsetting--not that the whole situation is completely bassackwards and upsetting no matter who you are. It's gross. Don't talk about your kid that way.
This is an important issue, however. This should not have happened. This should not still be happening, and the way it is being handled is very poor indeed.
TW for police, wrongful confinement, infantilizing parents, and ableism
-K
An Autistic teenage girl
in England was
[http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2269228/Autistic-girl-spent-hours-cell--police-wrongly-thought-drunk.html
jailed for ten hours on a false charge (Trigger Warning for
confinement, violence, mistreatment of a minor, discussion of
suicide, and some ableism)]. The police knew the charge was false,
and they kept her anyway. Crown Prosecution Service knew the charge
was false, but they took eight months before deciding not to put her
on trial. She had been the victim of an actual crime, but the
government declined to prosecute her probable assailant. “Lack of
evidence” they call it, which sure as hell didn't stop them when
the target was a disabled teenager.
Melissa Jones and her
non-disabled friend were severely beaten by an angry drunk. They were
beaten when they tried to stop the drunk woman from attacking a store
clerk. When found, she was “crying and hysterical,” which makes
her similar to any other teenager who had been minding their own
business and suddenly was “stamped on and suffered severe
bruising.” Hell, I'm thirty and I'd be pretty hysterical if that
happened to me. The police decided she was drunk and, despite her
mother's objection, arrested her. A police doctor confirmed that she
hadn't had a drop of alcohol, but they decided to hold her anyway.
After all, if we let people go just because the evidence shows
they're innocent, we'd have anarchy.
There is no excuse, zero,
nada, zilch, jack fucking shit (and Jack just left town). A police
doctor confirmed Melissa Jones was not drunk, and even if one hadn't,
breathalyzers are sort of a thing. A competent police officer who
cares one bit about justice would have let her go and apologize.
Either the cops who arrested her, every last one, are deeply
incompetent, or not a single one of them cares a bit about justice. A
competent prosecutor, who cares one bit about justice, would drop all
charges in as much time as it takes to read the report. The
prosecutor or prosecutors involved either are incompetent or don't
care one bit about justice. They're all bullies, every last one.
Many of us know full well
what this is like, maybe not to the level that she's experienced, but
we've been to the neighborhood. We're convenient targets for anyone
who wants to vent their rage or stroke their ego. Those who were put
in positions of authority find it inconvenient to actually do
anything about this, so they default to blaming us. Somehow, we're
always at fault for anything done to us (Just World fallacy). I spent
much of seventh grade on suspension for my attempts to defend myself
from assaults that I decline to describe here.
“[Melissa] has tried to
commit suicide and is having weekly counseling,” says her mother,
“she hardly ever goes out anymore.” This is flat-out
un-fucking-acceptable. A bunch of overgrown bullies with fancy titles
destroy an innocent girl's life, and you know none of them will
suffer any consequences. They never, ever do.
Melissa, if you're
reading this, I want you to remember one thing: you have absolutely
nothing to be ashamed of. If anything, you're a hero. You confronted
a woman who was about to assault someone else, and then you showed a
level of integrity few adults are capable of when you refused to
accept the ₤60
fine they offered you. You have every reason to be proud of yourself,
and your Autistic community is proud of you, and furious on your
behalf. I don't know much about British law, but I hope to the Lords
of frakking Kobol that there's a way for you to fight back against
what's been done to you. If a collection is ever taken for the cost
of suing all involved, I'd be proud to contribute.
Monday, January 28, 2013
On making people uncomfortable
A lot of the feedback I get is that the things I write make people uncomfortable. And to that, I say good. Mission accomplished.
If I am talking about bad, oppressive things allistics do and it makes you all squirmy because you see yourself in my words? Good. Excellent. If you do bad things, things that hurt people (not feelings. People. There's a difference) then yeah, I do want you to feel bad. People feel guilt and other icky feelings so they'll stop doing shitty things. So if you feel guilty because my posts are about you, good. I want that. Objective achieved.
And if it makes you uncomfortable because I throw into your consciousness things you'd rather ignore-how we are treated, how we are shoved into the cracks, how our maltreatment and abuse is accepted and even celebrated-good. No one should be complacent. Your discomfort ain't nuthin compared to what we live with. People always say they let it happen because they didn't know-now that excuse is gone. Now you can do something-or you have your mind reminding you that you should. Silence is assent, and now that you know about things you know what your silence is condoning.
Speaking truth matters far more to me than the comfort of the majority. People like me are being abused and killed by people who claim to love us. People who claim to be advocates "for autism" are just as bad as middle school bullies, but with twice as much practice. I don't care if you don't like me. I care that this stops. And making y'all uncomfortable, shaking your world, is how to make change happen. So squirm away. I will stop making you uncomfortable when there is no more injustice to fight against or when there is no more breath in my body and not before.
If I am talking about bad, oppressive things allistics do and it makes you all squirmy because you see yourself in my words? Good. Excellent. If you do bad things, things that hurt people (not feelings. People. There's a difference) then yeah, I do want you to feel bad. People feel guilt and other icky feelings so they'll stop doing shitty things. So if you feel guilty because my posts are about you, good. I want that. Objective achieved.
And if it makes you uncomfortable because I throw into your consciousness things you'd rather ignore-how we are treated, how we are shoved into the cracks, how our maltreatment and abuse is accepted and even celebrated-good. No one should be complacent. Your discomfort ain't nuthin compared to what we live with. People always say they let it happen because they didn't know-now that excuse is gone. Now you can do something-or you have your mind reminding you that you should. Silence is assent, and now that you know about things you know what your silence is condoning.
Speaking truth matters far more to me than the comfort of the majority. People like me are being abused and killed by people who claim to love us. People who claim to be advocates "for autism" are just as bad as middle school bullies, but with twice as much practice. I don't care if you don't like me. I care that this stops. And making y'all uncomfortable, shaking your world, is how to make change happen. So squirm away. I will stop making you uncomfortable when there is no more injustice to fight against or when there is no more breath in my body and not before.
Friday, January 25, 2013
IDing as autistic: not your 'get out of trouble free' card. Stop that shit.
I thought I had written this post yet. Apparently I hadn't. Don't make it about you if it isn't about you. If it's about you, maybe try something new & examine why you feel so defensive and guilty. Learn from it instead of rushing to indignation. It'll be a change of pace.
There's this troubling newish silencing tactic going around. Parents-and yes, it is fucking always parents-are behaving badly, bullying us in ways they'd presumably never allow their children to be treated, and someone has the audacity to call them on it! How terrible! And then at least one of these parents behaving badly decides to come back with "I'm autistic".
No you fucking aren't. How dare you? How fucking dare you appropriate my cultural identity in so self serving a manner? How fucking dare you?
Unbunch your socks. I didn't say you don't have autism. Maybe you do. I find the timing of these revelations suspect, and how we never hear of the revealer's autism ever again mightily suspicious, but I am not your doctor. I don't know your neurology. But I do know my community, and you sure as shit are not part of it.
You may not use a supposed commonality to justify abusing us. Fuck no. I will not stand for it. You may not use us that way. And you should not either. It hurts your children every time you do it. And, frankly, it proves every "asshat, selfish, self centered, short sighted parent" stereotype and generalization absolutely right. This is the utter embodiment of that! All it takes is one person doing this, abusing our identity this way, gaslighting us so they can keep bullying us, to undo the what parents who have earned some trust have done. This behavior is that abusive, that selfish-enough so that it tears down any trust we can have for your entire community.
Coming out Autistic is not a get out of trouble free card. Haven't you been paying attention to the media, to the attitudes of your peers? Shit, to your own behavior before you decided this was a fun new way to win arguments? Once you are wearing the scarlet A, nothing you say gets taken seriously unless you are saying what parents and professionals want to hear and you wrapped it up nicely first. Autistics are treated like shit, and you damn well know it (and, likely participated in it. Did I mention I'm not pulling punches? I'm not pulling punches. Shitty behavior is shitty). Accepting the label of Autistic is far more a "jump into trouble" launchpad than anything else. It paints a target on your back that you will never really escape.
Coming out Autistic is a radical act, not something to do on a whim to try to get away with treating another person poorly. Do not cheapen the very real danger we live with every day. Do not minimize the fears that Autistic parents live with, fears they have written about far more eloquently than I ever could. Do not minimize the hostility that you and yours create for us every day by trying to appropriate our cultural identity when it suits you and then trying to use it to justify perpetuating more hostility upon our culture. Fuck no. You may not do that. I will not stand for it.
This is not how my community behaves towards it own. We do not need that extra bullshit from you. Your pile is high enough already. If that's how your community acts, that's fine, but that is not what we do.
There's this troubling newish silencing tactic going around. Parents-and yes, it is fucking always parents-are behaving badly, bullying us in ways they'd presumably never allow their children to be treated, and someone has the audacity to call them on it! How terrible! And then at least one of these parents behaving badly decides to come back with "I'm autistic".
No you fucking aren't. How dare you? How fucking dare you appropriate my cultural identity in so self serving a manner? How fucking dare you?
Unbunch your socks. I didn't say you don't have autism. Maybe you do. I find the timing of these revelations suspect, and how we never hear of the revealer's autism ever again mightily suspicious, but I am not your doctor. I don't know your neurology. But I do know my community, and you sure as shit are not part of it.
You may not use a supposed commonality to justify abusing us. Fuck no. I will not stand for it. You may not use us that way. And you should not either. It hurts your children every time you do it. And, frankly, it proves every "asshat, selfish, self centered, short sighted parent" stereotype and generalization absolutely right. This is the utter embodiment of that! All it takes is one person doing this, abusing our identity this way, gaslighting us so they can keep bullying us, to undo the what parents who have earned some trust have done. This behavior is that abusive, that selfish-enough so that it tears down any trust we can have for your entire community.
Coming out Autistic is not a get out of trouble free card. Haven't you been paying attention to the media, to the attitudes of your peers? Shit, to your own behavior before you decided this was a fun new way to win arguments? Once you are wearing the scarlet A, nothing you say gets taken seriously unless you are saying what parents and professionals want to hear and you wrapped it up nicely first. Autistics are treated like shit, and you damn well know it (and, likely participated in it. Did I mention I'm not pulling punches? I'm not pulling punches. Shitty behavior is shitty). Accepting the label of Autistic is far more a "jump into trouble" launchpad than anything else. It paints a target on your back that you will never really escape.
Coming out Autistic is a radical act, not something to do on a whim to try to get away with treating another person poorly. Do not cheapen the very real danger we live with every day. Do not minimize the fears that Autistic parents live with, fears they have written about far more eloquently than I ever could. Do not minimize the hostility that you and yours create for us every day by trying to appropriate our cultural identity when it suits you and then trying to use it to justify perpetuating more hostility upon our culture. Fuck no. You may not do that. I will not stand for it.
This is not how my community behaves towards it own. We do not need that extra bullshit from you. Your pile is high enough already. If that's how your community acts, that's fine, but that is not what we do.
Thursday, January 24, 2013
"Just letting it go", picking battles, and other overrated skills I don't have
Alright, context: I just got off a bus where a 19 year old douchecanoe called me a dyke (but he totally isn't homophobic! Just ask him!) after I mentioned that his constant, loud use of the r word is ableist. This is kind of a regular occurrence in my life, strangers hurling invective at me-often oppressive invective-because I call an ism an ism, even in front of 70 strangers on the bus.
And people always ask me, "why don't you just let it go sometimes?"
Why do you?
That whole "don't sweat the small stuff-and it's all small stuff" attitude? It's exactly the attitude that has prejudice all sorts of not-going-anywhere. Because we're supposed to "let it go" sometimes. But then if we let that "small stuff go, we have to let everything of equal or lesser magnitude slide, then "oh but what makes that any worse than this other thing?" and before you know it, we are not taking a stand on a single thing.
You don't wait to stop a fire until the whole forest is ablaze, right? You stamp out the sparks. Well, we have way more blaze than spark going on here where systemic devaluation of disabled people goes-so you bet your ass I am going to stamp on every spark that flares up in front of me. That one person might be a lost cause, but there were 70 other people on the bus who might think a bit, and even if not a single one thinks anything through, I'm totally ok with letting bigots and their ilk know that's exactly what they are.
As far as picking my battles goes, I have: All of them. Every one I win, the next person won't have to, won't have to rely on someone who "lets things go", or waits until Rome is burning to start looking for a bucket. I can't just pick a few rights that matter and some that are optional. It does not work that way. There are not acceptable levels of dehumanization, ways in which it's ok to treat us like second class not-citizens. No. I am having none of it. I will not play that game. All of them are important. None of it can wait for another day.
These supposed skills are really great for not making waves, for not rocking the boat-but activism is all about rocking the boat. We need a whole ocean to clean the layer of filthy ableism (and other oppressions) off our society. Change upsets people. People with power do not like losing it-even (especially?) unfair, unearned power. Civil rights struggles are all about making waves and rocking the boats. "Letting things go" is not how social change happens.
So no, I will not let things go. I cannot, I never have been able to, and I see no reason to figure it out now. And I choose all the battles. They all matter. If they don't, why is the other side fighting me so hard?
And people always ask me, "why don't you just let it go sometimes?"
Why do you?
That whole "don't sweat the small stuff-and it's all small stuff" attitude? It's exactly the attitude that has prejudice all sorts of not-going-anywhere. Because we're supposed to "let it go" sometimes. But then if we let that "small stuff go, we have to let everything of equal or lesser magnitude slide, then "oh but what makes that any worse than this other thing?" and before you know it, we are not taking a stand on a single thing.
You don't wait to stop a fire until the whole forest is ablaze, right? You stamp out the sparks. Well, we have way more blaze than spark going on here where systemic devaluation of disabled people goes-so you bet your ass I am going to stamp on every spark that flares up in front of me. That one person might be a lost cause, but there were 70 other people on the bus who might think a bit, and even if not a single one thinks anything through, I'm totally ok with letting bigots and their ilk know that's exactly what they are.
As far as picking my battles goes, I have: All of them. Every one I win, the next person won't have to, won't have to rely on someone who "lets things go", or waits until Rome is burning to start looking for a bucket. I can't just pick a few rights that matter and some that are optional. It does not work that way. There are not acceptable levels of dehumanization, ways in which it's ok to treat us like second class not-citizens. No. I am having none of it. I will not play that game. All of them are important. None of it can wait for another day.
These supposed skills are really great for not making waves, for not rocking the boat-but activism is all about rocking the boat. We need a whole ocean to clean the layer of filthy ableism (and other oppressions) off our society. Change upsets people. People with power do not like losing it-even (especially?) unfair, unearned power. Civil rights struggles are all about making waves and rocking the boats. "Letting things go" is not how social change happens.
So no, I will not let things go. I cannot, I never have been able to, and I see no reason to figure it out now. And I choose all the battles. They all matter. If they don't, why is the other side fighting me so hard?
"Free Speech" doesn't make your words not oppressive.
A day in the life of Neurodivergent K: someone is throwing around the word "retarded" as an insult. I say, "hey, that's ableist. Leave disabled folks out of it". They say OHMYGOD FREESPEECH YOUAREN'TTHEBOSSOFME!!!!!
Uh. No shit? Yes, you can say whatever you wish. Your rights do include saying whatever hateful, bigoted things your hateful, bigoted heart desires. The government cannot prevent you from doing this..
As another individual agent, however, I can criticise the fuck out of you. Cuz, see, I too have free speech. And "freedom of speech" does not mean freedom from criticism or judgement. So exercise your free speech in this way in my earshot, and I will exercise mine right back.
It runs both ways, cupcake. Clear?
Uh. No shit? Yes, you can say whatever you wish. Your rights do include saying whatever hateful, bigoted things your hateful, bigoted heart desires. The government cannot prevent you from doing this..
As another individual agent, however, I can criticise the fuck out of you. Cuz, see, I too have free speech. And "freedom of speech" does not mean freedom from criticism or judgement. So exercise your free speech in this way in my earshot, and I will exercise mine right back.
It runs both ways, cupcake. Clear?
Monday, January 14, 2013
Rude questions & power dynamics
One of the things that turned me into a "bad Autistic" was constantly being asked about my bodily functions by strangers. That's rude. Don't do that. Another thing that turned me into a bad Autistic? The reaction of parents-it's pretty much always parents demanding a 25 year poop diary-when I say that's rude, inappropriate, and invasive. Apparently it's disrespectful to tell them that it's rude, inappropriate, and disrespectful. Apparently I should "just not answer". But it's not that simple.
Let's talk about why.
Like many Autistic people, I learned to language via scripts. I also learned that you answer an adult's questions, because the consequences for not doing so really very much suck.
There is no script for "that is none of your business; I cannot believe you are asking me this question. This is rude. What the hell is wrong with you??" apart from what I just said. That works on equal footing. Sometimes. Ish. Some of us were taught the "none of your business" script. Most of us have learned that it doesn't work, because of the other thing we learned:
You answer an adult's questions-no matter what. And we are not treated as adults. Autism is infantilized in society, and Autistics are treated as children. We are taught, over and over and over, that we are the child in the interaction, and the invasive questioner-that they can and will punish us, just as an adult punishes a child, if we do not answer their question-no matter how inappropriate.
That is the power dynamic here. Parents run roughshod all over Autistics' boundaries-and they tend to feel totally ok doing so, because boundaries are a privilege for adults (this is not an attitude I am ok with, but society is totally down with it), and we are not really real adults.
So we have a really shitty choice: we answer your invasive, asshole questions, and have our boundaries thoughtlessly violated again and again, or we defend our boundaries & our dignity, and we're the high royalty of Asshatland for demanding to be treated with a bit of respect.
And the thing that's really baffling here is that parents (who are far and away the most common askers of "oh my god what made you think that is ok??" questions) don't see a problem with this dynamic. They feel entitled to stomp all over our boundaries at will. What are adult Autistics here for if not to talk all about our first sexual experiences & how we coped with puberty? If you don't want to be asked that question than just stay off the internet or away from anything having to do with autism (ok, Jerry Lewis...). They see nothing wrong with this invasive behavior-until you do it to them.
I've turned it around on them before. The indignation is a sight to see. Apparently I have appalling social skills because I saw fit to reciprocate the questioning. It's only fair game in one direction-because of power. Because the NT parent is the "adult" perceiving me as a child at best, as a walking encyclopedia of autism at not-much-worse (a child is percieved as a posession in this society. So is an object. Oh boy! Such choices!)
Parents. You are not entitled to know anything about me. I do not believe for a second that you'd ask a stranger on an airplane if they get the shits when they eat salicylates (or expect them to know what salicylates are for that matter). Someone tried to blow smoke up my ass about talking about shit with strangers this morning and I do not appreciate it (oh right, I'm Autistic so they can lie to me with impunity...just like a child...and they can get all indignant when I don't believe them...just like if a child doesn't). I do not believe for a second you say "excuse me, miss, could you tell me about your first menstrual period? I have a daughter about to hit that age & I need more perspectives" on the bus. I don't. I don't. I don't.
It is just as inappropriate to assume that we want to answer your questions as that the lady on the train does. We have not been given the tools to say 'no'. We have been taught that our boundaries don't matter.
So have some fucking respect and stop jumping on them. Be aware of the power imbalance, be aware that we were taught that we have to answer all the questions, & instead of insisting that we don't have to answer (and then throwing a hissy the one time you come across someone who can defend their boundaries) just don't ask without asking if it's ok first.
Be aware. It's not that hard.
Let's talk about why.
Like many Autistic people, I learned to language via scripts. I also learned that you answer an adult's questions, because the consequences for not doing so really very much suck.
There is no script for "that is none of your business; I cannot believe you are asking me this question. This is rude. What the hell is wrong with you??" apart from what I just said. That works on equal footing. Sometimes. Ish. Some of us were taught the "none of your business" script. Most of us have learned that it doesn't work, because of the other thing we learned:
You answer an adult's questions-no matter what. And we are not treated as adults. Autism is infantilized in society, and Autistics are treated as children. We are taught, over and over and over, that we are the child in the interaction, and the invasive questioner-that they can and will punish us, just as an adult punishes a child, if we do not answer their question-no matter how inappropriate.
That is the power dynamic here. Parents run roughshod all over Autistics' boundaries-and they tend to feel totally ok doing so, because boundaries are a privilege for adults (this is not an attitude I am ok with, but society is totally down with it), and we are not really real adults.
So we have a really shitty choice: we answer your invasive, asshole questions, and have our boundaries thoughtlessly violated again and again, or we defend our boundaries & our dignity, and we're the high royalty of Asshatland for demanding to be treated with a bit of respect.
And the thing that's really baffling here is that parents (who are far and away the most common askers of "oh my god what made you think that is ok??" questions) don't see a problem with this dynamic. They feel entitled to stomp all over our boundaries at will. What are adult Autistics here for if not to talk all about our first sexual experiences & how we coped with puberty? If you don't want to be asked that question than just stay off the internet or away from anything having to do with autism (ok, Jerry Lewis...). They see nothing wrong with this invasive behavior-until you do it to them.
I've turned it around on them before. The indignation is a sight to see. Apparently I have appalling social skills because I saw fit to reciprocate the questioning. It's only fair game in one direction-because of power. Because the NT parent is the "adult" perceiving me as a child at best, as a walking encyclopedia of autism at not-much-worse (a child is percieved as a posession in this society. So is an object. Oh boy! Such choices!)
Parents. You are not entitled to know anything about me. I do not believe for a second that you'd ask a stranger on an airplane if they get the shits when they eat salicylates (or expect them to know what salicylates are for that matter). Someone tried to blow smoke up my ass about talking about shit with strangers this morning and I do not appreciate it (oh right, I'm Autistic so they can lie to me with impunity...just like a child...and they can get all indignant when I don't believe them...just like if a child doesn't). I do not believe for a second you say "excuse me, miss, could you tell me about your first menstrual period? I have a daughter about to hit that age & I need more perspectives" on the bus. I don't. I don't. I don't.
It is just as inappropriate to assume that we want to answer your questions as that the lady on the train does. We have not been given the tools to say 'no'. We have been taught that our boundaries don't matter.
So have some fucking respect and stop jumping on them. Be aware of the power imbalance, be aware that we were taught that we have to answer all the questions, & instead of insisting that we don't have to answer (and then throwing a hissy the one time you come across someone who can defend their boundaries) just don't ask without asking if it's ok first.
Be aware. It's not that hard.