As we strive for greater equity in society, we can’t shy away from difficult conversations about ableism and capitalism
Disclaimer: The following article has been written using identity-first language and was written by a neurodivergent/disabled queer racialized woman, who is also the mother of a neurodivergent/disabled kid. The opinions hereby portrayed may not reflect those of Fuckup Inc as an organization.
April is Autism Acceptance Month. We have touched on this topic before, but we thought it deserved a deeper dive. As we strive for greater equity in society, we can’t shy away from difficult conversations.
As we continue to make strides in promoting psychological safety, diversity, and inclusion, it's crucial that we also address the ways in which this system affects those of us who “don’t look disabled”.
Capitalism, as an economic system, revolves around the accumulation of resources for profit. While it has contributed to the development of the Global North, it's no secret that this system also perpetuates a myriad of social injustices across all latitudes.
From subtle microaggressions to glaring disparities in access to resources, ableism has long been an insidious force in our society.
With this blog post, we invite you to explore the impact of capitalism and ableism on neurodivergent individuals.
Ableism is a system of oppression that targets disabled individuals. It can manifest in many ways, including physical barriers, prejudiced attitudes, and exclusion from all aspects of society. Ableism often intersects with other oppression systems, such as racism, sexism, and classism, making it a complex and pervasive issue that demands attention and action.
Neurodiversity is a term coined in 1996 by Judy Singer, an autistic sociologist. This paradigm challenges the traditional notion of "normal" versus "abnormal" when it comes to human cognition. The Neurodiversity Paradigm argues that neurological differences should be viewed in the same light as any other type of diversity, with each individual's unique cognitive profile contributing to the overall richness of the human experience.
Neurodivergent individuals are those whose brain works differently than most people. We’re talking about folks diagnosed with ADHD, Autism, OCD, PTSD, depression, Borderline Personality Disorder, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Bipolar Disorder, etc. Some people argue that a mental illness isn’t the same as a neurotype, but the point here is that all those brains work differently, and all those groups of people need support and accommodations.
By recognizing the value of these differences, society can move away from a deficit-based approach and towards one that celebrates the strengths and potential of all people, regardless of their neurotype or mental illness.
Capitalism's focus on profit can lead to a prioritization of cost-cutting over accessibility and inclusion. For example, businesses and school systems choose not to invest in any sort of training regarding this topic or in providing any accommodations for those who need them, as decision-makers perceive these expenses to be a drain on their profits or resources. Spoiler alert: it’s not.
The beauty of accommodations is that they provide accessibility to everyone regardless of their neurotype. Case in point: people who can walk can use ramps too. Ramps are an accommodation, an adjustment based on Universal Design, which means everyone can use them.
The capitalist emphasis on competition and productivity creates a hostile environment for neurodivergent people, who may be viewed as "less capable" or "less valuable" to a company because we don’t work in the same way as the perceived majority.
We have different approaches to processes, and some of us need everything in writing. Some of us struggle with public speaking or even turning our cameras on during a meeting. Some of us can’t work for 8 hours straight and need to take several breaks.
This results in discrimination and lack of accommodations not only during the hiring process but across daily operations. It’s not that we are inherently less capable, we simply do things differently.
The pursuit of profit can also contribute to a lack of representation of neurodiverse people in media, as disabled actors and models are often seen as less marketable. This perpetuates harmful stereotypes and reinforces ableism in society.
It’s also important to note: it doesn’t matter how many neurodivergent actors in neurodivergent roles are there on TV and films without a redistribution of resources in educational and healthcare/social security systems. That’s where real representation is needed.
The main representation we see are straight white male geniuses like Sheldon from The Big Bang Theory, Sam from Atypical, or Shaun from The Good Doctor. Yes, there are some women too (Beth from The Queen’s Gambit, Woo from Extraordinary Attorney Woo), but let’s face it, they’re also geniuses.
Food for thought: some neurodivergent people don’t consider themselves disabled, some will need a calculator all their lives, many aren’t interested in chess at all, and some can’t even remember to drink water every day. There’s diversity within diversity.
The lack of interest in this topic by non-disabled people causes misinformation and fear. This is an extremely difficult conversation, and it seems easier to oversimplify things we don’t really understand.
Stereotypes are harmful, even if well-intended. Like when people say “All autistics are mathematical geniuses who aren’t interested in sex” or “People with ADHD are terrible romantic partners but great at producing music or other art forms” or “You must be high-functioning so you don’t need help, stop stealing resources from people who actually need them”.
On that note: functioning labels are harmful, as they strip neurodivergent individuals from their agency. If someone’s deemed “low-functioning”, people and legal systems assume they aren’t capable of making any decisions about their lives. If someone’s considered “high-functioning”, health care and school systems deny their right to receive care and accommodations.
These labels will never convey the full extent of the support needs of a neurodivergent person. Every neurotype (autistic, ADHD, dyslexic, OCD, etc) operates on a spectrum and support needs change all the time, even within the span of a day, for the same individual.
This means using neurodivergent individuals to make non-disabled folks feel better about themselves, even when it’s not their intention. Inspirational p*rn reduces neurodivergent folks’ lived experience to only suffering.
Think about all the fundraisers that include pictures and videos of neurodivergent children or non-speaking adults without their fully informed consent: “John achieved so-and-so DESPITE having autism” and “Leila was able to do this-and-that DESPITE having ADHD”. (By the way, parents aren’t entitled to profit from their kid’s image without their consent, even if it’s for “a good cause”. But that’s a different conversation about adultcentrism, and we’ll cover that in a couple of months, stay tuned).
Non-disabled people donate a dollar and feel better about themselves but don’t actually start socializing with neurodivergent or disabled people because that’s not the goal of inspirational p*rn. Altruism means helping people who need it the way THEY ask us to. Charity is helping the way WE think they need it.
Have you laughed at or dismissed someone who says they can’t handle certain things like sounds, textures, flavors, smells, and lights? Have you disregarded someone’s experience and said “It’s not that bad, there are worse things in life”?
Maybe you called someone a “weirdo” because they have a hard time socializing or seem to not understand the unwritten rules about human interactions that are “obvious” to you. Perhaps your teachers thought a classmate of yours was being annoying or antagonizing for asking a lot of questions on a subject everyone else seemed to understand.
Yes, we’ve all acted like douchebags at least once in our lives. Let’s not dwell in shame, and instead, let’s try and be compassionate towards other people’s lived experiences from now on. You never know when a neurodivergent person might be next to you, so become a safe person. The world needs more of those.
This is a hard pill to swallow, but our intentions, as pure as they may be, will never be more important than the impact of our actions. Yes, most people are unaware of ableism and it’s not their fault. However, the systemic consequences of our collective actions -or lack thereof- are undeniable.
We don’t have a one-size-fits-all solution for ableism -nobody does. Collective liberation requires us to hold ourselves accountable. It requires us to reject individualism and punitive justice. It requires us to choose compassion -or just basic human decency-, and restorative justice instead.
As someone said on Twitter: I want to live in a world where people who learn about harm to others care more about ending it than proving they aren’t causing it.
We need to cry together, think together, laugh together, and co-create solutions together, even if we won’t see the end result in our lifetime. My hope lies in the beauty of neurodiversity: we have an infinite number of minds to figure out how to improve this society.
Editado por
Shanti Banus
Transformemos nuestra percepción del fracaso y utilicémoslo como catalizador del crecimiento.