Success

I sit at a table, working playing a game with students. Next to me a conversation goes on, which I desperately want to join into, and can't, because I'm working with their classmates. Instead, I busy myself listening, enjoying what I hear. Twelve and thirteen year olds discussing neurodiversity and what it means to be autistic. Preteens and teens discussing their own way of being - my way of being - and the idea of acceptance.

Another time, I sit at the same table, and a student fights within himself - overwhelmed by the noises of the classroom, but afraid of acknowledging his impairments. I'm there with him, sharing his disorder, but already accepting my own, and someone who he views as someone worth looking up to. I am open about my ear muffs in my backpack, and about how much more noise it would take for me to go through the effort of pulling them out even buried so deep. That day self-care and self-acceptance wins, because of acceptance of me, and he gets his own ear muffs to protect himself from the sensory onslaught he was feeling.

Teachers requesting where I got my neurodiversity t-shirt, aides asking about the problems of stim suppression, people turning to me as someone knowledgeable about autism and asking me questions. Most importantly, students treating me as a mentor rather than any other sort of adult.

Success - that is what I get. I make a difference in people's lives, because of my autism, and because I know who I am. I am not afraid, I know I'm impaired, I accept the word "disability", and what I get for it, is my success.

Everyone's success is their own. No two people do the same thing, no two people share the same traits, disabled or not, autistic or not. No two people share the exact same goals. What I manage though, is managing to show people that they are worthy, by showing them myself. I manage to show them how to accept themselves, by showing them that it isn't a scary place of lesser being and inability, it is a place of acknowledgement of impairments, and a place of finding themselves and their own goals. I manage to show them the worth of everyone, slowly, by showing them that impairments don't define the worth of a person, even when they begin afraid of impairments doing so.

My success is helping people through that process, speeding it up, making it not one to be afraid of. My success is making other adults start to see bits and pieces, and what that might mean in education. My success is taking being myself and spreading the idea that you shouldn't be afraid of someone like me, and it working. My success is seeing steps, someone asking me for help for more ways to take care of themselves, someone talking more openly about who they are, someone turning and talking to others about how autism isn't a bad thing.

These aren't things I could do without being autistic. I use my autism productively, because it is who I am. I need to help and share. I need to make people see the beauty of math, see that I'm not a horrible person because I am autistic, need to make people see how much they are, no matter their impairments. I need to take my self-acceptance and project it onto others, until they accept me too, until they accept themselves too, until things become better.

Because in too many cases the children are sitting their not understanding who they are, because nobody tells them. The parents fear because nobody tells them. The people around haven't heard any words about autism besides "autism speaks". There isn't any ideas of what or who we are, except the idea of fear. I am not afraid of who I am, I see no reason to fear me, even if sometimes I need a little help.

So, I want to take this, and tell people. Take this and go to the children, and instead of the therapy, just play games working on math skills and while doing that talk to them as a peer and mentor. Letting them know who I am, being open about my diagnosis, being open about my impairments and about what I do because of them. Answering questions about how I cope, and about what my quirks are. Tricking them into learning skills that I think are necessary to learn, and I think will help them, focusing on problem solving skills, and critical thinking skills, and various types of reasoning.

And that's what I do, I share, I teach, I show people and they get to know too. They get to see too the beauty, they get to see too, who they really are - someone who isn't to be feared.

A Wizard Alone

I remember 2002.

There was this book I'd pre-ordered. I'd gotten the first four in 4th grade, realized it wouldn't end there excitedly when I saw the fifth in the library when it came out. It became a series I'd have to pre-order books for. This one had just came out. It was named A Wizard Alone.

There was fantasy, and all of what I looked for. It was one of my favorite books. What was different about this book though, was that one of the characters was autistic. He was presented as entirely in his own head, and it wasn't made clear (to me at least) how much that was autism and how much that was plot. In the end, he was magically cured, having chosen to give up his autism, when he was able to in a magical way.

This was also the year I was told that I was autistic. It wasn't in those words, and I didn't understand. I was a 13 year old, without much support when it came to this in particular (because of lack of knowledge), no matter how much people supported me in everything else.

I was told I probably had Asperger's. I didn't really understand what that meant, though I was given some information. I responded by hiding back into my books in confusion, though I'm not sure anyone realized. Of course, one of the books I returned to was A Wizard Alone, with its autistic character. With its character who was magically cured.

And I actually started figuring out myself with that, though not in the best way. I reacted with confusion from one of my favorite books being like this and my disorder being autistic spectrum and then "that's not me". I don't want to be cured, I shouldn't be cured. I reacted in the way I see so many people doing now, separating themselves from the people they call "LFA". I went strongly mentally into neurodiversity, but I didn't understand it. I wasn't understanding how someone could be impaired and want to be themselves. I couldn't understand my own impairments.

I had this internal struggle going on in many ways. I knew I was happy with who I was, and apparently had these labels, but I shared these labels with someone who it was clearly a wrong part of them in my favorite book. How could this make sense? It wasn't making sense, and I pushed it all away. I made it so that this could be a favorite without it saying any less about someone who was like me, I made myself different.

Yet at the same time, I related, and I kept returning. I reread this book more than the rest of the Young Wizards books in these years. When I was trying to understand myself autisticly, it was one of the places I turned, because it was a book that meant so much to me, and who's characters were important to me, and which autism was a part of. The fact that it ended up with the autism going away didn't mean that the autism wasn't there. I eventually started trying to find ways to justify it like it not really being autism, because I related to feelings even though the traits were so much more pronounced than mine, and didn't want that part, but didn't want to think any less of the book.

I figured things out eventually of course - I didn't keep othering people, splitting it so strongly into Us vs Them. But, it was after this strong reaction from this book of "I can't be that, I can't be someone who gets treated that way, they are, not me". And I didn't at first realize that they shouldn't either, or that it wasn't me vs them.

My early process was very defined by that book. It wasn't one that was negative about myself, but it wasn't one that was positive about disability, or other people, and it was one that was me not being able to recognize that I could be impaired. I don't now know how I viewed myself, as both having this disorder and having no impairments, but I did so.

This would all suggest though, that there are a lot of problems with this book. (No matter how much it was one where I read it I don't know how many times in my early teenage years. It really was one of my most read books.) And there are, the treatment of autism was really negative. But, what was awesome, was that the author recognized this, and worked on fixing it, and that itself is worthy of mentioning.

There was a new edition put out in 2012ish, where Diane Duane was fixing timeline consistencies and updating it for newer audiences. I bought but was terrified of reading A Wizard Alone, because of the treatment of autism. It could be done well, it might be done terribly. What came out of this update included references to the intense world theory, suggestions that autistic people are actually people, and a character who in the end had the choice whether or not to be cured and chose not to. There was actually an autistic character now, not someone who was there only to speak of the horrors of autism.

It was in many ways, saying that book that started my journey had been revised into one that didn't say I shouldn't exist. It could agree with autistic people. It wouldn't limit me into being someone either with impairments or with abilities. That was something needed and which is so hard to find in fiction.

When I started, I was someone young and trying to find my way, not aware, but not wanting to be treated badly. Now I'm being shown that I don't have to be. Progress is happening.

Coming Out Autistic

Every time I am open about who I am, it opens up the world a little bit more.
It makes it a little bit more aware that people like me exist.
It makes it a little bit more accepting that people like me exist.
Every time I do an action that we're told we cannot do, it says, "Hey look, this works. Hey look, we can do this."
Every time I say who I am, I make it easier for you to say who you are too.

Society isn't accepting of us. Society defines us into roles, ostracizes us, stigmatizes us. Society fears us and makes us fear it.

And being openly autistic, doing what I want to in life, being impaired and not a stereotype... that helps with teaching society that I am both a verbal disabled autistic adult, and someone who is a success.

And with that, as others do too, it teaches them about autism.

Maybe that'll mean you can be who you need to be. Maybe that'll mean you fear being yourself less. Maybe it'll mean you'll let yourself know this is who you are, and instead of trying to deny it, try to find ways for you to enjoy yourself as yourself. Maybe it'll mean you'll fear others less. Maybe it'll mean you can walk around flapping and humming and wearing ear muffs, and then, go, and be one of the most productive people at your job because they actually gave you a chance to get through an interview. Or maybe it'll mean that you'll go to college when you had thought you couldn't because of the messages around you. Maybe it'll mean that slowly we can erode the idea that working full-time is required to be a worthwhile human being. Or maybe it'll just help you find a way besides a 9-5 to make your own way in this world - whether monetarily or otherwise.

Maybe I can help you be you, by being me.

Neurodiversity [and disability]

There was a post on wrongplanet asking about neurodiversity and disability. Are they mutually exclusive? How do they relate?

And really, looking at how people talk about it, it doesn't seem like people understand disability as part of neurodiversity.

So I responded. I responded the following:

Neurodiversity is about saying that disability doesn't mean lesser.

I am disabled. I am not a lesser person because of my disability. I cannot do everything that others can. I will never be able to. I will always have needs that others will not. I will always be disabled and not just different.

But that doesn't mean that I'm not good enough. It doesn't mean that I'm not human. It doesn't mean I'm less than someone who's not disabled. It doesn't mean that I need to be cured.

It means that I'm a disabled person.

And neurodiversity means embracing those differences. All of them. Disabled or not. It means saying that someone who needs to read to learn and someone who need to listen to learn both matter. It means someone who can't see a florescent light without getting a migraine matters. It means that someone who needs to use tools to remember what they're doing day to day matters. It means someone who doesn't know how to interact socially matters. It means that we're all people.

It means that disability isn't being broken. It means that disability isn't being wrong.

But its a concept larger than disability.

It means that being different isn't being wrong. Disabled or not.

That's what it means to me.

I'm disabled. I'm not less than someone who's not. I'm just me.

And people agreed. And people disagreed. People either said that high functioning autistic people weren't disabled, or they liked what I said.

But disability is what it comes down to. And its a scary word. And it doesn't have to be a scary word. An neurodiversity is saying its not a scary word.

I am not capable of the same things others are. I just cannot do things others can. This is not a question. This is just a statement. There are things I cannot do. There are major things I cannot do. The fact that its not a big deal doesn't matter. The fact that there's a lot I can do doesn't matter. The fact that I work around it doesn't matter. There are things I can't do.

That's what disability means - that there are things you are limited in doing or can't do. Not that you can't do anything. Not that you aren't good enough. None of that. I am disabled. I am disabled by the same stuff that calls me autistic. By the stuff that makes me deal with a sensory system most people can't imagine, and by the stuff that makes my nonverbal communication a mess.

But neurodiversity says I'm good despite that. Neurodiversity says I'm not wrong. Neurodiversity says embrace those differences because differences are good, even if it means I'm disabled. Disability isn't wrong . I might not be capable of everything. But I'm capable of enough.

I'm capable of being happy. I'm capable of enjoying life. I'm capable of making a difference. Sure, I need help. Sure I'm not capable of everything that's normal. That doesn't matter. I'm not a lesser human despite that. I don't need "fixed". I don't need pitied.

I need helped. I need accepted. I need treated like another person, and a person who's needs aren't the same as everyone else's. I need acknowledged. I need to be me not someone else.

So yes, I'm disabled. But accept me anyways. I'm not broken. I'm just disabled. And disability doesn't have to be scary.