To be an autistic person is to be a person with something valuable inside you but to rarely find the right environment where your value is recognized as valuable by people around you.
This is me, speaking from the heart of an autistic person.
poem
i, advocate
If you’ve been following my neurodiversity journey–as I articulate the experience of a person with autism, ADHD, aphantasia, and proprioception hyposensitivity from the inside, along with the other ways i share myself–and you’ve found that the insights I’ve shared connect with your experience, or contextualize something you suspected, realize that sharing these insights is one of the ways I care for my community.
And realize that, as a person with no degrees or qualifications as an advocate other than my lived experience and my inborn gifts, what I share makes no sense in the context of capitalism.
If you find that a person like me is a valuable part of the community, and worthy of support, realize that, within the context of 21st century American capitalism, there’s not much support for people like me, or for the people I advocate for, who often don’t have the gift for articulation that I share with my community.
I could institutionalize myself: pursue an advanced degree that legitimizes my advocacy in the context of capitalism, and in doing so, would need to unplug myself from the community that I move through, and in doing so, become another victim of capitalism – saddled with huge debt, and most likely unable to find an official advocacy position that would pay off that debt in my lifetime.
I choose, instead, to move through my community in the ways I’ve been moving, because my community moves me to do so, and that’s how I show up. That’s how I care.
If you find this valuable, I’m asking to be allowed to continue advocating for your sensory and cognitive gifts, to continue recontextualizing valuable predispositions that have been pathologized. I’m asking to be adopted. I’m asking for your care. I’m asking for your support.
In asking for your support, I’m not asking to be the CEO of Spotify, or Starbucks, or Paramount+, or Ridwell, or any of the other services that folks find valuable and subscribe to. I’m asking for just enough care to be allowed to live and continue to do the work that I do. If you subscribe to even a little bit of the philosophy I share, consider subscribing to me, so I can continue caring for my community in the ways that I do.
Thanks for all you do, and thank you for being you.
the care economy
The care economy is an emerging model for supporting people, things, and processes we’d like to see more of in the world. It is about recognizing the things in our experience that bring us joy, that give us a [wow] or a [yes], and responding to these moments in a supportive way. It’s actually just, well, practicing care, and that’s not new at all. But the language of commerce is transactional, rather than responsive.
I recognize that I love the work that I do with people so much that I would offer it for free if I was supported–if all of my needs were met. But traditional models don’t allow for that type of responsiveness. I would like to try to move toward a more responsive system, built on trust. Why not?
People who know me can decide if they trust the work I do, and they can choose to support me so that I can do that work, or not. In doing so, they are allowing me to be more myself, and guiding me toward their own needs. I’m the product, in a sense, but since our relationship is based on trust, I’m allowed to do the work I believe, adjusting to the needs that arise, as they align with those who trust me.
This simple shift makes the difference between the transactional and the responsive. But it’s kind of vulnerable and scary. I have to trust those that are responding. Will I be supported? Will enough people believe in the work? If I am being truly responsive to their needs, then perhaps. I think it’s worth a try.
I see a difference between commitment and obligation. Commitment is a responsive engagement, where we meet the needs of the moment as it arises. Obligation can keep us stuck supporting processes that actually hinder our ability to respond to the moment.
So, I see a possibility emerging to do things in a more responsive way, and in seeing how obligation often thwarts connection, I would like to avoid transactions that create a sense of obligation, and nurture ones that give one a sense of [wow] or [yes].
So, think about our interactions in the spaces we share. If our conversations seem to be taking us in good directions, let’s continue the conversation. If helping to support me gives you a sense of [wow] or [yes], then you are participating in the care economy. Thank you for recognizing your own power to support, and if our goals align, thank you for your support.
same difference
In a society where differences are recognized and celebrated, our experience of community is an experience of collective difference.
In a society where samenesses are recognized and celebrated, our experience of community is an experience of collective sameness.
In a society that celebrates differences, everyone being different is a given. No one pops out. All are included.
In a society that celebrates sameness, everyone being the same is a given. The differences pop out. Some are centered. Some are different.
What type of society do you live in? What type of society would you like to live in?
Do you take comfort in sameness? Do you take comfort in difference?
Do our differences connect us or divide us?
This is all worthy of consideration.
🗽
The first response of the conservative is
‘actually…’
The first response of the progressive is
‘consider…’
The first response of the ones who actually consider is
‘resolve,’
and we recognize that
‘solver’
and
‘lovers’
are both represented, and we’re trying to figure out how to include the extra
‘e.’
The struggle is real.
e pluribus unum.
♾️
My autistic traits are nothing to be afraid of. They are highly effective strategies in the environments for which they are adapted. If you spend time with me in these environments, a little of these traits may rub off on you, and your movement through these environments may be eased.
I have come to never doubt this.
I have also come to never doubt that people with autistic traits are not to be feared–whether we are nonverbal or highly talkative, highly energetic or profoundly still, highly organized or seemingly chaotic, hermetic or super social. If you recognize the environments for which we are adapted, and move through these environments with us, we often rub off on you in ways that make these environments easier for you to navigate.
We are connected to something, which sometimes makes us appear disconnected to you. If you connect with us, you connect to something, too.
We connect directly, which can sometimes seem off-putting, since we are not putting off connection or putting on appearances. Yes, we will likely rub off on you, but this rubbing off may actually make your way appear easier.
Please: recognize us. Recognize the environments for which we are adapted. Move through these environments with us. Let us rub off on you.
Despite appearances, it’s way easier than you think.
May all beings recognize their true nature.
Every day is neurodiversity awareness day.
💗
We’re at a turning point: we are abandoning the need to evaluate the worth of a person by their ability to engage with capitalism, and adopting the wisdom to be inspired by those who, by their mere presence among us, increase our capacity to care.
❤️🩹
We could simply care for one another, but capitalism demands that its needs are met first, and its cut exhausts our resources, completely. We must then engage with capitalism to simply receive care, and we cannot care except through transaction. To care becomes a term for believing in something strongly, while being reminded, moment by moment, of our being too busy to engage our natural response to offer care. We need to care for one another. Capitalism doesn’t care.
🔺
Who is the you? Which is the me?
Wait–are there three?
You may find that you see
everything one way,
just as it is,
until one day you
question something and
have a crisis, and
make a big cognitive leap,
and then suddenly,
there’s another
possibility.
You might find that you’re seeing
everything a million different ways,
completely overwhelmed,
until one day, you
have to get something done,
and you have a crisis, and
make a big cognitive leap,
and then suddenly,
there is only
three.
One of you is going
to be the me
in a conversation with you
some time today.
You’ll know, because
you will find yourself
thinking, “this person’s thinking
is so simplistic,”
or possibly
you will find yourself
thinking “that person’s thinking
is so complex.”
Which one will be right?
If we pause, and reflect, and listen,
and speak with care,
i think you’ll see
–(between you and me)–
we’re not two,
but three.
You,
the peace we just made, and
me.
Which one is the me?
🛒
You see an old man in the parking lot, losing control of his cart, and you’re right there, and your hand instinctively reaches out and stops the cart from rolling, and you pause, just long enough to show safety with your body, and say:
“it’s fine,”
and move on.
And then, a second later, you are standing across from a young woman screaming at her wailing child:
“chill tf out!”
And your body is frozen, except for the heart that pumps as if it is trying to put out a fire. Which it is.
And as you bear witness, you wish that it was this cart your hand could instinctively reach out and stop from rolling.