Autonomy exists even when you don't agree with another's choice.

Continuing the public discussion on identity as it pertains to Autism. 

There are many areas in which these posts could be applicable, many identities this could cover, and you are more than welcome to apply it as you see fit, but I am choosing to focus on this particular community and its relationship with identity and its desire to demand its members be compliant in choosing what if feels to the most appropriate way of identifying themselves.

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I think that some people deliberately ignore that I am Black. And Autistic.

This is an AND thing. Not an OR.

I am Black, first.

Then Autistic.

And many don't fully understand that.

Even though I state I am Black first, I am cognizant of the ways that Autism is still working on me, in me, through me...

This the often the response of a world who treats people as they see people, and the first thing they see when they look at me is...

I share Autistic things I experience and what my children experience, but it doesn't flow through an Autistic only lens. This isn't my primary identity. And because identity is made of our experiences, memories, relationships, and values and crafted largely in part with how others will ultimately perceive us as well, it won't ever be MY primary identity.

I can't mask Blackness. I am what people see. And this skin is considered maladaptive before I even execute a behavior, before I even speak. I sit in Black spaces and they can't even see the Autism in me. Disability is a tough thing to navigate within our community because our lives are governed by whiteness. I am essentially invisible. But our Autism will have to be more invisible because from a young age we are taught to survive this world, not really thrive in it (even if we feel that being taught survival leads to thriving). To be Black and Disabled is a challenging thing to be within the Black community. And this also influences what language I choose to describe myself in this diagnosis.

When I share something that is seemingly Autistic only, it's not. It filters through Black. It will always filter through Black. So when I tell you my identity is based upon my histories and contexts, it means it is based largely on my being Black. So, when someone tells me of all the harm that is caused by those who choose PFL, I don't know how to fully connect with those perspectives because I am drowning in the harm that has come to me in this skin.

And just because I do not fully connect with those perspectives, doesn't mean I will dismiss them. I support however someone wishes to identify. I will not go out of my way to hurt, harm, or claim to know their life better than they ever could. You are who you say you are. Who am I to say otherwise?

I am a Black Autistic (and many more identities that are irrelevant to THIS conversation) woman who sits within a community that will constantly beat over my head what the “majority feels” and “thinks”. Beyond identification, this is problematic because a community that is governed by one specific group will never be a community for all. Find an BIPOC Autistic person who is completely okay with how this community runs its activism. And this is regardless of whether they choose IFL or PFL or both.

For the most part, I stay out of Identifier debates, colors, symbols, etc. I don't engage because that ain't a lane I wish to ride. I don't have an infinite amount of energy to expend there. I might have preferences, but really in the grand scheme of what I wish to accomplish in my life, it isn't foundational in whether I choose red, gold, Autistic, or infinity symbol, puzzle piece, and on and on...

I occasionally step foot into these talks because of my son. Every single time I have shared about identity is because of my son. Because he has Autism. Because that is who he chooses to be at the moment. Because he knows what he experiences. He has seen what his parents go through. He sees what his brother goes through. He knows how he feels inside. He knows all these other parts of himself that he would love to know more intimately. And he knows the parts of himself that he cannot hide. Those parts he cannot mask. And it's those parts that have drawn weapons on him. Those parts that threatened him with arrest. Those parts that almost lost his father to an officer who thought his wallet was a firearm. Those parts that people see first. He knows his brain is different. He knows he is unique. He knows of his diagnosis.

But he knows so much else as well.

And some of y’all will sit there, knowing he knows himself more than you ever would and would dare tell him, “okay, but you have to talk about yourself like this. You have to call yourself this. Cause the way you see yourself hurts others.”

This isn’t something as his mama I am going to let him take on. He lives as his parents do. Our lives peripheral to dominant culture. There’s already so much we don’t have control over. There’s already so much we have to learn to get by. He was born with skin that people swear has his story tattooed within his hue. They claim to know him better than he would know himself. This is why they assume so much of him. This is why he must carry his thoughts and that of others. This is why when housed in the heads of others, he is the most unsafe...because that is where they piece together all the bad things they have learned about those with his skin. And what they think, they do. How they feel, they act.

I will absolutely sit back and watch him take ownership of who he is in this diagnosis. I don’t have control here. And no one else does either.

I go hard as I do because he deserves someone to fight for him and not against him. He deserves someone to look at him and feel as though he has authority over how he sees himself. He deserves to know that I don't have to knock him down. One day, he entered this space and he was bombarded with words that he couldn't possibly love himself because he chooses to see himself as he does. He “suffers from internal ableism.”

Nah. He is full of love. He IS love. He just wants to be more than what so many want to box him into. Allow him the space to explore this world as he is. Let him grow with each experience. Over time, he will grow more into himself. And he may choose differently.

Or he may not.

Autonomy exists even when you don't agree with another's choice.

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Additional Thoughts

This person absolutely does not respect what someone wishes to be called nor are they willing to see the harm that comes from it. They are unwilling to accept that a person looking at every detail of their lives and deciding for themselves that they wish to be referred to by name first is rife with the ableism and harm they think they are eradicating by restricting others according to their preferences. It's as if they are incapable of acknowledging that people are able to discern the nuances of their lives to the point where they choose to not be known by their disability first. 

I always think of justification as my attempting to prove something to another. When I wrote the post this person commented on, I spoke to my individual, unique circumstances and situations. I spoke to an existence they knew nothing about because the life I shared was my own. There was no part of that post that looked for the acceptance of others to be okay with the decisions I made based on how I respond to the world around me nor how I respond to how I feel about myself. 

It was an explanation. Not a justification. It was the carefully crafted construction and delivery of a piece of myself that I owed no one at the time, but I shared because my community is full of people who feel similar to me. I shared for them. Just as much as I shared for myself. 

"I respect what people want to be called for whatever reason." That's it. That's a full thought. They should have left it there. There's a lot of people who take issue with complete sentences. This should have been wrapped up after "reason." But no, they carried on and revealed that they do not respect that person's decision because they felt it necessary to educate them and then place the onus of the dehumanization and torture of people on their shoulders. 

On my shoulders and that of my son's, specifically. They chose to look at two Black people and accuse them of doing something (choosing to identify as we saw fit) that tortured people outside of themselves. As if don't know torture. As if we don't know dehumanization. As if we don't know harm. 

That's that bullshit. 

I demand to be called what I want to be called because I demanded as such. They call for autonomy but only in the way that they see fit. 

The history of person first language lies with the disabled bodies of yesterday. I understand their intentions. Just as I understand the intentions with identity first. But I won't sit here and tell y'all that all disability is created equal. All bodies aren't created equal. All treatment we face ain't the same. And all of this, plus more inspires the type of language we use to talk about ourselves. And a lot of it ain't rooted in negative feelings we have about ourselves. 

Honestly, the first time I used "Autistic" to describe myself, I felt bullied into doing so. This was something that had to grow on me through a lot of self-exploration and reflection because the decision to define who I was in this diagnosis I gave to another. Those who don't know me. Those who don't know my life. Those who don't know what I go through and what I have gone through. I am calling myself "Autistic" and don't even know why. Just that it's what I am supposed to be doing. 

And I read comments like these on a regular basis. These comments and messages that put the whole of harm that befalls this community on the shoulders of a now 14 year old because he would rather be known by name first than disability. 

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Fidgets and Fries

creating resources & conversation to aid in community

Fidgets and Fries

creating resources & conversation to aid in community