What does "suicide prevention" mean when the causes of suicide are oppression, trauma, and a world not worth living in?
Speech by yours truly at the Garden Church's "Suicide Prevention & Healing Ceremony" in San Pedro, California.
Please excuse and disregard the "danger to self or others" line. This was totally unscripted, I took a chance with a half-formed thought, and it turned out to be less than half-formed.
This video features closed captions in English. Other than that, there was no editing.
9/26/17
Everything Wrong With Atypical, Episode Three (Autism Sins)
This episode features a competition between two parents and a therapist, to see who can be the biggest abusive asshole. No need for a spoiler warning, because obviously the mom wins.
To see more of our videos, visit our YouTube channel.
To see more of our videos, visit our YouTube channel.
9/7/17
Everything Wrong With Atypical, Episode Two (Autism Sins)
The sinner is back for more of the train-wreck that is Atypical! Since the first 30-minute episode already taught us everything there is to know about autism, we can now move on to the important stuff: Parents whining over how hard it is to raise us.
To see more of our videos, visit our YouTube channel.
To see more of our videos, visit our YouTube channel.
8/31/17
Everything Wrong With Atypical, Episode One (Autism Sins)
The new Netflix series "Atypical" kicks off with a script so cringey, it practically sins itself. Today's drinking game is a shot every time a character is likeable; I promise you'll stay completely sober.
To see more of our videos, visit our YouTube channel.
To see more of our videos, visit our YouTube channel.
5/1/17
13 Reasons "Mental Health" Advocates Need to Watch 13 Reasons Why
Controversy erupted quickly around the release of 13 Reasons Why, a Netflix series based on the 2007 novel of the same name. This comes as no surprise, considering the story revolves around suicide. Not only that, the show (and the novel, but those don't get nearly as much attention in pop culture) disrupts the standard expected narrative in which suicide is typically portrayed.
The premise of the story is that a high school student, Hannah Baker, killed herself, but first left a series of audio tapes for and about all the people who contributed to her suicidality. The idea of a dead person leaving messages behind isn't new, but what does stand out is that a person who attempted suicide, and succeeded, still gets to tell her story. This premise allowed the script to offer a perspective that isn't found in other suicide narratives, and is much closer to reality.
The objections to the show seem to mostly fall into two categories: 1) People who have actually had suicidal thoughts or even attempted suicide, who understandably refuse to watch the show for fear of being triggered or re-traumatized. 2) People who advocate for "mental health awareness" and are very offended that suicidality is portrayed as a natural life experience and not a chemical imbalance. Where these two groups overlap, the label for that section of the Venn diagram is "internalized ableism". Here's an example (WARNING: auto-playing music) which seems to be the most popular "don't watch it!" post floating around multiple social media sites, and the inspiration for this rebuttal.
Evidence on comforting the afflicted is inconclusive, but 13 Reasons Why definitely brings affliction to the comfortable. "Mental health" advocates need to see this show. No, it's not for "everyone" - it's highly triggering (for example the act of suicide is shown on screen, as well as multiple sexual assaults) and more than a little problematic. As said most elegantly by my colleague Leila Yoder, there are definitely aspects of the script to be critical of, but "it's not pathology paradigm enough" isn't one of them.
13 Reasons Why is an important cultural commentary that more people should see. Here are 13 reasons why:
The most well-known example of this problem was recognized during World War 2, when the U.S. Navy studied returning planes and reinforced the most damaged parts in the next design. The mistake was that those were the parts which could get heavily damaged and still return. The parts that never return damaged are the ones that bring the plane crashing down, never to be studied. In psychology, this cognitive error is literally called survivor bias.
In a society where every suicidal person is forced, coerced, or at least pressured into some kind of "treatment" program, you either never get identified as suicidal and never get hit with a psychiatric intervention, or you get identified and you get an intervention. There is no identified-but-not-intervened control group to verify that the "treatment" should actually get the credit. We do on the other hand have research suggesting that locked facilities make people more suicidal, not less.
Yet suicide awareness campaigns still affect me personally, and my community. I won't soon forget the inherent dehumanization in habitually cutting the strings off my shorts, because I'm expected like all other interchangeable mental patients to somehow kill myself with them while pinned down on a four-point restraint bed. I haven't forgotten that suicide was the big justification no one wanted to challenge, when we first decided that you could detain people in so-called "hospitals" instead of mainstream jails. Every time I see a therapist, I'm reminded that if I so much as express a thought about killing myself, that she not only has the option to legally commit violence against me, she's expected to and can get in trouble if she doesn't.
As someone who has been subjected to traumatic and abusive human rights violations in the name of misguided attempts at suicide prevention, and who knows the stories of other people who can say the same, I am thankful that an item of cultural influence promotes a different message. Even if I believe for a second that the point of 13 Reasons Why is to "glorify suicide", I'll take that over awareness.
The premise of the story is that a high school student, Hannah Baker, killed herself, but first left a series of audio tapes for and about all the people who contributed to her suicidality. The idea of a dead person leaving messages behind isn't new, but what does stand out is that a person who attempted suicide, and succeeded, still gets to tell her story. This premise allowed the script to offer a perspective that isn't found in other suicide narratives, and is much closer to reality.
The objections to the show seem to mostly fall into two categories: 1) People who have actually had suicidal thoughts or even attempted suicide, who understandably refuse to watch the show for fear of being triggered or re-traumatized. 2) People who advocate for "mental health awareness" and are very offended that suicidality is portrayed as a natural life experience and not a chemical imbalance. Where these two groups overlap, the label for that section of the Venn diagram is "internalized ableism". Here's an example (WARNING: auto-playing music) which seems to be the most popular "don't watch it!" post floating around multiple social media sites, and the inspiration for this rebuttal.
Evidence on comforting the afflicted is inconclusive, but 13 Reasons Why definitely brings affliction to the comfortable. "Mental health" advocates need to see this show. No, it's not for "everyone" - it's highly triggering (for example the act of suicide is shown on screen, as well as multiple sexual assaults) and more than a little problematic. As said most elegantly by my colleague Leila Yoder, there are definitely aspects of the script to be critical of, but "it's not pathology paradigm enough" isn't one of them.
13 Reasons Why is an important cultural commentary that more people should see. Here are 13 reasons why:
1. Bad consultants were mostly ignored.
The creators of the show consulted with the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention, an organization which advocates in favor of force and coercion, including locking people up in psychiatric prisons and pacifying them with medication. Can you guess how the Foundation justifies this? All human rights violations are a necessary means to the exalted end of recovering people from their mental illnesses. What a unique and original thought. While it's impossible to know whether the final script was molded by ethics, marketing, or storytelling, it's clear to me is that the screenwriter had a chat with a very bad organization, then went directly against most of their bad advice.
2. The dead girl tells us what didn't work.
In real life, we can't ask someone what went wrong after a successful suicide attempt. Therefore we don't know how realistic Hannah's perspective is. Nevertheless, it disrupts the standard narrative: Suicide attempt survivors, both real and fictional, get paraded as tokens by "mental health" advocates to talk about how great the "treatment", usually being locked up and medicated, worked for them. This narrative is not scientifically justified. In fact, it's propaganda.
The most well-known example of this problem was recognized during World War 2, when the U.S. Navy studied returning planes and reinforced the most damaged parts in the next design. The mistake was that those were the parts which could get heavily damaged and still return. The parts that never return damaged are the ones that bring the plane crashing down, never to be studied. In psychology, this cognitive error is literally called survivor bias.
In a society where every suicidal person is forced, coerced, or at least pressured into some kind of "treatment" program, you either never get identified as suicidal and never get hit with a psychiatric intervention, or you get identified and you get an intervention. There is no identified-but-not-intervened control group to verify that the "treatment" should actually get the credit. We do on the other hand have research suggesting that locked facilities make people more suicidal, not less.
3. Hannah was killed by other people.
Another part of the standard narrative is that suicidality, without a verbal acknowledgement, is undetectable. Therefore it's no one's fault when someone dies. 13 Reasons Why straight-up says no to this narrative, instead placing the blame firmly on those who hurt Hannah and those who failed to reach out. The show demonstrates the simple causal link between suicide and
traumatic events such as bullying and sexual assault. The other main character, Clay, wasn't a direct assailant but has to come to terms with his complicity.
Hannah is portrayed as a normal, mentally healthy person (at least until she racks up a few traumas), not as a list of diagnostic criteria or LOL RANDOM CRAZY. It was her experiences that caused her to become suicidal, not spontaneously manifested brain chemicals.
This is a breath of fresh air for people who have been falsely labeled as mentally ill... which is everyone who's been labeled as mentally ill...
Suicide is what people are driven to when they're pushed past their breaking point. This reality is reflected in the portrayal of Hannah Baker. She is bullied and abused and injured and broken, until eventually she can't think of any other option. If seeing the truth makes people uncomfortable, good.
Self-harm and suicidality are both natural parts of the human experience. Turning them into taboo subjects does no good for the people experiencing them. In fact, it often creates shame, which makes both of them more attractive. 13 Reasons Why has got people talking.
I don't believe that this was an oversight. I believe it was a deliberate choice, because promoting suicide hotlines would undermine the central message of the show.
The real reason people get uncomfortable with the lack of resources is not moral outrage at irresponsible triggering, it's because they are yet again trying to find a way to make suicide the sole responsibility of the suicidal person and not anyone else. If calling a stranger on the phone is a magic pill to cure suicide, then every death is the fault of the dead person for not reaching out. By not inviting this supposed solution into the show, it was not invited into the conversation. The focus is kept instead on other people's responsibility in causation or prevention.
Hannah does not take any medication, because that would give the audience freedom to rationalize however they see fit: Either the medication caused the suicide so it's not other people's fault, or it was the wrong medication for her mental illness so it's not other people's fault. Clay explores medication but doesn't get any benefit from it, which is also the most common outcome in real life.
4. Hannah is neurotypical.
You can't deflect the blame to a "mental illness" or "chemical imbalance" either. Not for the character any more than for real people, unless being gay also causes a "chemical imbalance" the same way excessive melanin in the skin exerts a gravitational force on police bullets.
Hannah is portrayed as a normal, mentally healthy person (at least until she racks up a few traumas), not as a list of diagnostic criteria or LOL RANDOM CRAZY. It was her experiences that caused her to become suicidal, not spontaneously manifested brain chemicals.
This is a breath of fresh air for people who have been falsely labeled as mentally ill... which is everyone who's been labeled as mentally ill...
5. Hannah is able-bodied.
Though I'm rarely thankful for this, disability is not represented at all. Hannah does not have one. She does not kill herself because it's so tragic and burdensome to exist in the world as a disabled person. Another break from one of cinema's most offensive and harmful clichés.
6. It's not just a choice.
I usually go out for vanilla ice cream on the weekends, but this time I think I'll try rocky road to see if I like it. And I usually enjoy being alive but I think I'll try killing myself today. That's what has to be going through the heads of people who say suicide is just "a choice".
Suicide is what people are driven to when they're pushed past their breaking point. This reality is reflected in the portrayal of Hannah Baker. She is bullied and abused and injured and broken, until eventually she can't think of any other option. If seeing the truth makes people uncomfortable, good.
7. Reaching out backfires.
When Hannah tries to reach out to other characters - friends, parents, school counselor, they are at best unhelpful and unsupportive, if not making the situation even worse. This is realistic, if perhaps a bit relentless in its cynicism. "Don't reach out" may be a dangerous message, but so is "reach out to anyone and everyone." Some people will invalidate, re-traumatize, or even call the cops. This warning creates the appropriate balance, supporting the reasonable message to be selective.
8. Self-harm gets a spotlight too.
One of the characters (not Hannah) explains her self-harm by saying "it's what you do instead of killing yourself." This isn't the true reason for everybody who self-harms, but it is for some. In a non-coercive way, this line offers an alternative to suicide. Because the rationale is so difficult to argue with, it also helps to de-stigmatize self-harm, and yes, self-harm absolutely does need to be de-stigmatized. Not the "treatments" for it, but the act itself.
Self-harm and suicidality are both natural parts of the human experience. Turning them into taboo subjects does no good for the people experiencing them. In fact, it often creates shame, which makes both of them more attractive. 13 Reasons Why has got people talking.
9. Hotlines are not the answer.
Another major complaint against the show is that it doesn't offer resources. For example, there is not a list of phone numbers for suicide hotlines in each episode's end credits.
I don't believe that this was an oversight. I believe it was a deliberate choice, because promoting suicide hotlines would undermine the central message of the show.
The real reason people get uncomfortable with the lack of resources is not moral outrage at irresponsible triggering, it's because they are yet again trying to find a way to make suicide the sole responsibility of the suicidal person and not anyone else. If calling a stranger on the phone is a magic pill to cure suicide, then every death is the fault of the dead person for not reaching out. By not inviting this supposed solution into the show, it was not invited into the conversation. The focus is kept instead on other people's responsibility in causation or prevention.
10. Medication is not the answer.
Medication actually does come up in the show, not for Hannah but for Clay. His incompetent mother can't think of any other way to relate to him, because she's internalized the idea that his grief over a dead friend is a mental health condition, and the way you deal with those is by taking drugs, not, you know, being human together.
Hannah does not take any medication, because that would give the audience freedom to rationalize however they see fit: Either the medication caused the suicide so it's not other people's fault, or it was the wrong medication for her mental illness so it's not other people's fault. Clay explores medication but doesn't get any benefit from it, which is also the most common outcome in real life.
11. Prison is not the answer.
None of the characters, least of all Hannah herself, ever suggest that what she really needed was to be locked up in a psychiatric prison where she can be somehow healed by additional violence against her. Not only would such a statement have been patently untrue, it would have once again undermined the apparently controversial message that people are responsible for each other's well-being. If suicide prevention is the responsibility of some professional psychologist in some hidden facility, then it doesn't have to be yours. You have permission to ship people off and wash your hands of it. Out of sight, out of mind.
12. Permanence is powerful.
If Hannah really wanted to send a message, why didn't she power through and tell her story while still alive? Isn't that more powerful? No. It isn't. Sticking around gives other people the chance to apologize, to offer help, to give lip service and feel good about themselves, without doing anything to actually improve the victim's quality of life.
13 Reasons Why is not a warning to suicidal people not to kill themselves. That was never the intent. It's a warning to friends and family of suicidal people, that if you fuck up, if you're not present and caring and supportive, that's it. They're dead. You don't get a second chance. You don't get closure.
13. Suicide awareness can kiss this show's ass.
I have a confession to make: I have never been suicidal. And I don't think I ever will.
Yet suicide awareness campaigns still affect me personally, and my community. I won't soon forget the inherent dehumanization in habitually cutting the strings off my shorts, because I'm expected like all other interchangeable mental patients to somehow kill myself with them while pinned down on a four-point restraint bed. I haven't forgotten that suicide was the big justification no one wanted to challenge, when we first decided that you could detain people in so-called "hospitals" instead of mainstream jails. Every time I see a therapist, I'm reminded that if I so much as express a thought about killing myself, that she not only has the option to legally commit violence against me, she's expected to and can get in trouble if she doesn't.
As someone who has been subjected to traumatic and abusive human rights violations in the name of misguided attempts at suicide prevention, and who knows the stories of other people who can say the same, I am thankful that an item of cultural influence promotes a different message. Even if I believe for a second that the point of 13 Reasons Why is to "glorify suicide", I'll take that over awareness.
 |
| Image description: Promotional photo of the characters Clay and Hannah, with additional text around the title so that the image says "There are thirteen reasons why I killed myself and not a single one of them is a chemical imbalance." |
1/18/17
Dear Meryl Streep: No Abled Savior Needed
Meryl Streep has managed to make headlines by attacking the world's lowest-hanging fruit: Donald John Trump. Apparently it is viewed as an act of bravery to stand up to the most blatantly and visibly racist, ableist, misogynistic, xenophobic, homophobic, transphobic, and all around assholish public figure of modern times. It is especially brave to do so as a wealthy abled white cis woman, in the process of receiving a nationally televised award.
At the Golden Globes ceremony on January 8th, 2017, Meryl Streep received the Cecil B. DeMille Award, and used part of her acceptance speech to dredge up a year-old news item: Donald Trump publicly mocking the mannerisms associated with arthrogryposis, the visible disability of Pulitzer prize-winning journalist Serge F. Kovalevski. I call him that, not because I particularly value awards or titles (I didn't even watch the Golden Globes when it originally aired, and I'm an actor), but because Kovalevski doesn't appear to name himself a member of any disability rights movement, nor focus his journalism on disability topics. Thus a description of him as a "Pulitzer prize-winning journalist" seems to contain far more relevant information than "disabled reporter" does.
As I and many others pointed out over a year ago, referring to the mocking of a disabled person as some unspeakable evil, or as "the final straw" to sever support of Trump's campaign, is actually ableist. Mocking a disabled person qualifies as evil, certainly, but it is not more evil than creating a mandatory Muslim registry like the Nazis did with Jews. It is not more evil than grabbing women by the pussy without their consent. And it is clearly less evil than repealing the Affordable Care Act, effectively killing millions of mostly disabled people, not just making fun of us. Why weren't any of those things the final straw? Why is mocking disability met with greater outrage than actions that are objectively, measurably more harmful, to other minorities and specifically to disabled people? The answer to that question lies in the subtext, something all actors love, within Meryl Streep's rhetoric:
Making fun of disabled people is the unforgivable sin of the 21st century, not because ableism is bad - the speech didn't even contain the words ableism, discrimination, or bigotry - but because disabled people are already so tragic and vulnerable. Hiring people who aren't disabled to play us in movies is fine. Taking away our civil rights, that's fine. Literally murdering us, no problem. Just don't point and laugh. Meryl Streep says we lack "the capacity to fight back." While it's true that the president of the United States generally has more power than a given New York Times editor, first of all, Donald Trump hadn't yet been elected to any public office at the time, and second, Pulitzer prize-winning journalist Serge F. Kovalevski can and has responded to Trump in the way that he himself saw fit. There is no abled savior needed to defend him.
Potentially the most troublesome word choice in the speech is when Streep said that Trump "imitated a disabled reporter." Not mocked, imitated. What happened to the old adage "imitation is the sincerest form of flattery"? I seriously doubt that Pulitzer prize-winning journalist Serge F. Kovalevski felt flattered by Trump's childish antics. Meryl Streep, did you mean to imply that acting in the manner of a disabled person is what damned this action, not the fact that it was done for the sake of mockery? When an abled actor plays a disabled character, what's shameful isn't the stolen opportunity, but that a disabled character is portrayed at all? Maybe that's why you didn't even mention Kovalevski by name. He's just "a disabled reporter" to you, stripped of his personhood and of all his accomplishments. You also managed to mention the recently passed, openly bipolar Carrie Fisher, but as "Princess Leia" - neither disabled nor a person! You disrespected them just as much as you deservedly disrespected Trump. As you said in the very same speech, disrespect invites disrespect, so maybe I should call you "shit head" or something instead of Meryl Streep.
As I often say in presentations about autism, two people who are both ableist are always on the same page, even if they say and genuinely believe they're not. If you're a parent using Floortime to manipulate your child into acting neurotypical, you're not some radical revolutionary. You're not special for disagreeing with those in the ABA industry, 'cause actually, you agree with them. You agree that disabled people should not be allowed to be visibly disabled in our mannerisms, and your actions reflect that. If you're a doctor who says that vaccines don't cause autism, but if they did, you'd have to be "monstrous" to still administer them, then you don't disagree with anti-vaxxers. Not when they say being Autistic is worse than having polio. Hey Shit Head, do you think being disabled is inherently shameful? That being visible to the world, with uniquely disabled mannerisms, is shameful? If so, you and a guy who's basically famous for being an asshole are in total agreement.
It may seem like I'm over-analyzing a single 1-minute paragraph within a 6-minute speech. That's because that 1-minute paragraph is all Meryl Streep said about disability. The rest of the speech, well, it was a calculated action from beginning to end: After bullying, she segued into asking her audience to support the Committee To Protect Journalists, and indeed there was a reported spike in donations right after the Golden Globes. That's great for journalists and probably needed, but was the fact that Kovalevski is a journalist really the centerpiece to this story? Where is the spike in donations to ADAPT, or Not Dead Yet, or the National Council on Independent Living? With regard to disability, all this Golden Globes speech managed to inspire in its viewers was warm fuzzy feelings. It glossed over everything notable that disabled people did in the last year, and instead used one person as a nameless prop to add egos to the list of things being stroked in a rich abled white people's circle-jerk.
What about the parts of the speech before Kovalevski and Trump?
Before reading any other perspectives, I watched Meryl Streep on YouTube so I could start with my own opinions. She began with what sounded like a speech about diversity. I may not be a comedian, but that should inspire laughter: An abled white woman, delivering a speech, to an audience that is 94% white and 0% visibly disabled, praising that audience for being so diverse. She gave shout-outs to specific actors, and to her credit named their countries of origin including Israel, Kenya, and Ethiopia. But that's only a third of the names she chose. I'm sorry, but four (4) U.S. states, Italy, and Canada does not qualify as "diversity". That's just six (6) white people. To imply that it does reflects denial and rationalization.
Streep made no mention of disability when applauding the diversity of Hollywood. It was as though she did not see the connection within her own speech. No Affordable Care Act. No underemployment of disabled actors. No disability rights advocacy groups. No criticism of ableist movies like Split, The Accountant, and Me Before You, which undermine the work of disability rights groups and fail to employ disabled actors, many of whom are alive thanks to the Affordable Care Act. If there were any invisibly disabled actors in the audience, I don't think they were very impressed with the bravery of Meryl Streep to utterly fail at addressing any of the real issues. I, a disabled actor, am not impressed. I, a disabled actor of color, am not impressed.
At the Golden Globes ceremony on January 8th, 2017, Meryl Streep received the Cecil B. DeMille Award, and used part of her acceptance speech to dredge up a year-old news item: Donald Trump publicly mocking the mannerisms associated with arthrogryposis, the visible disability of Pulitzer prize-winning journalist Serge F. Kovalevski. I call him that, not because I particularly value awards or titles (I didn't even watch the Golden Globes when it originally aired, and I'm an actor), but because Kovalevski doesn't appear to name himself a member of any disability rights movement, nor focus his journalism on disability topics. Thus a description of him as a "Pulitzer prize-winning journalist" seems to contain far more relevant information than "disabled reporter" does.
As I and many others pointed out over a year ago, referring to the mocking of a disabled person as some unspeakable evil, or as "the final straw" to sever support of Trump's campaign, is actually ableist. Mocking a disabled person qualifies as evil, certainly, but it is not more evil than creating a mandatory Muslim registry like the Nazis did with Jews. It is not more evil than grabbing women by the pussy without their consent. And it is clearly less evil than repealing the Affordable Care Act, effectively killing millions of mostly disabled people, not just making fun of us. Why weren't any of those things the final straw? Why is mocking disability met with greater outrage than actions that are objectively, measurably more harmful, to other minorities and specifically to disabled people? The answer to that question lies in the subtext, something all actors love, within Meryl Streep's rhetoric:
"It sank its hooks in my heart... It was that moment when the person asking to sit in the most respected seat in our country imitated a disabled reporter. Someone he outranked in privilege, power and the capacity to fight back. It kind of broke my heart when I saw it."The underlying tone, neatly bookended here, is pity. Just as disabled people merely living our lives is inspiring and heartwarming, on the flip-side directly interacting with a disabled person in a mean way is a low blow, kicking someone while they're down. Of course in reality, being disabled doesn't mean we're "low" or "down" in the first place (unless you're literally talking about wheelchairs or dwarfism, neither of which describe Pulitzer prize-winning journalist Serge F. Kovalevski).
Making fun of disabled people is the unforgivable sin of the 21st century, not because ableism is bad - the speech didn't even contain the words ableism, discrimination, or bigotry - but because disabled people are already so tragic and vulnerable. Hiring people who aren't disabled to play us in movies is fine. Taking away our civil rights, that's fine. Literally murdering us, no problem. Just don't point and laugh. Meryl Streep says we lack "the capacity to fight back." While it's true that the president of the United States generally has more power than a given New York Times editor, first of all, Donald Trump hadn't yet been elected to any public office at the time, and second, Pulitzer prize-winning journalist Serge F. Kovalevski can and has responded to Trump in the way that he himself saw fit. There is no abled savior needed to defend him.
Potentially the most troublesome word choice in the speech is when Streep said that Trump "imitated a disabled reporter." Not mocked, imitated. What happened to the old adage "imitation is the sincerest form of flattery"? I seriously doubt that Pulitzer prize-winning journalist Serge F. Kovalevski felt flattered by Trump's childish antics. Meryl Streep, did you mean to imply that acting in the manner of a disabled person is what damned this action, not the fact that it was done for the sake of mockery? When an abled actor plays a disabled character, what's shameful isn't the stolen opportunity, but that a disabled character is portrayed at all? Maybe that's why you didn't even mention Kovalevski by name. He's just "a disabled reporter" to you, stripped of his personhood and of all his accomplishments. You also managed to mention the recently passed, openly bipolar Carrie Fisher, but as "Princess Leia" - neither disabled nor a person! You disrespected them just as much as you deservedly disrespected Trump. As you said in the very same speech, disrespect invites disrespect, so maybe I should call you "shit head" or something instead of Meryl Streep.
As I often say in presentations about autism, two people who are both ableist are always on the same page, even if they say and genuinely believe they're not. If you're a parent using Floortime to manipulate your child into acting neurotypical, you're not some radical revolutionary. You're not special for disagreeing with those in the ABA industry, 'cause actually, you agree with them. You agree that disabled people should not be allowed to be visibly disabled in our mannerisms, and your actions reflect that. If you're a doctor who says that vaccines don't cause autism, but if they did, you'd have to be "monstrous" to still administer them, then you don't disagree with anti-vaxxers. Not when they say being Autistic is worse than having polio. Hey Shit Head, do you think being disabled is inherently shameful? That being visible to the world, with uniquely disabled mannerisms, is shameful? If so, you and a guy who's basically famous for being an asshole are in total agreement.
 |
| Image description: Side-by-side photos of Donald Trump (left) and Meryl Streep (right). In comic book speech bubbles, Trump says "I hate disabled people!" and Streep replies "Me too!" |
It may seem like I'm over-analyzing a single 1-minute paragraph within a 6-minute speech. That's because that 1-minute paragraph is all Meryl Streep said about disability. The rest of the speech, well, it was a calculated action from beginning to end: After bullying, she segued into asking her audience to support the Committee To Protect Journalists, and indeed there was a reported spike in donations right after the Golden Globes. That's great for journalists and probably needed, but was the fact that Kovalevski is a journalist really the centerpiece to this story? Where is the spike in donations to ADAPT, or Not Dead Yet, or the National Council on Independent Living? With regard to disability, all this Golden Globes speech managed to inspire in its viewers was warm fuzzy feelings. It glossed over everything notable that disabled people did in the last year, and instead used one person as a nameless prop to add egos to the list of things being stroked in a rich abled white people's circle-jerk.
What about the parts of the speech before Kovalevski and Trump?
Before reading any other perspectives, I watched Meryl Streep on YouTube so I could start with my own opinions. She began with what sounded like a speech about diversity. I may not be a comedian, but that should inspire laughter: An abled white woman, delivering a speech, to an audience that is 94% white and 0% visibly disabled, praising that audience for being so diverse. She gave shout-outs to specific actors, and to her credit named their countries of origin including Israel, Kenya, and Ethiopia. But that's only a third of the names she chose. I'm sorry, but four (4) U.S. states, Italy, and Canada does not qualify as "diversity". That's just six (6) white people. To imply that it does reflects denial and rationalization.
Streep made no mention of disability when applauding the diversity of Hollywood. It was as though she did not see the connection within her own speech. No Affordable Care Act. No underemployment of disabled actors. No disability rights advocacy groups. No criticism of ableist movies like Split, The Accountant, and Me Before You, which undermine the work of disability rights groups and fail to employ disabled actors, many of whom are alive thanks to the Affordable Care Act. If there were any invisibly disabled actors in the audience, I don't think they were very impressed with the bravery of Meryl Streep to utterly fail at addressing any of the real issues. I, a disabled actor, am not impressed. I, a disabled actor of color, am not impressed.
12/29/16
Everything Wrong With Vaxxed (Autism Sins)
Andy Wakefield is at it again! Stop to get your popcorn ready and answer all your texts, 'cause this video will make sure you really know EVERYTHING wrong with this movie.
The same guy who committed fraud in 1998, by saying that the MMR vaccine causes autism, in an attempt to sell his individual measles vaccine for profit, has now made a movie to say that the MMR vaccine causes autism, in an attempt to sell his individual measles vaccine for profit, while accusing everybody else of doing the things he's doing. Actual diseases and anti-autism eugenics are back in full swing in this silly conspiracy movie!
Autism Sins is a snarky, sometimes satirical series, where I review media portrayals of autism in a rip off- er, I mean, an homage to the format of CinemaSins.
For T-shirts, coffee mugs, and other junk that leaves me a neat little artist margin, visit my RedBubble store.
To see more of my videos, visit my YouTube channel.
For the original Sinners, visit youtube.com/user/CinemaSins or cinemasins.com
The same guy who committed fraud in 1998, by saying that the MMR vaccine causes autism, in an attempt to sell his individual measles vaccine for profit, has now made a movie to say that the MMR vaccine causes autism, in an attempt to sell his individual measles vaccine for profit, while accusing everybody else of doing the things he's doing. Actual diseases and anti-autism eugenics are back in full swing in this silly conspiracy movie!
Autism Sins is a snarky, sometimes satirical series, where I review media portrayals of autism in a rip off- er, I mean, an homage to the format of CinemaSins.
For T-shirts, coffee mugs, and other junk that leaves me a neat little artist margin, visit my RedBubble store.
To see more of my videos, visit my YouTube channel.
For the original Sinners, visit youtube.com/user/CinemaSins or cinemasins.com
9/15/16
Autism Sins: Adam from House
Everything Wrong With House M.D. season 3, episode 4 "Lines in the Sand" and its portrayal of Autistic patient Adam Kelvey.
This is the first installment of Autism Sins, where I snarkily review media portrayals of autism in a rip off- er, I mean, an homage to the format of CinemaSins.
To see more of my videos, visit my YouTube channel.
4/22/16
Acceptance Must Not Become a Buzzword
The discourse surrounding autism is full of meaningless buzzwords: Awareness, cure, treatment, high-functioning, optimal outcome, and many more; even the factual-sounding phrase "evidence-based" cannot be taken as an indication that there really is evidence. Many of these words did mean something once upon a time, but since then have been distorted by widespread overuse and misuse.
Language has power, and replacing meaningless buzzwords with things that are meaningful is an important part of pro-Autistic activism: Rather than appealing to a vaguely defined "functioning" level, we describe what people's specific support needs are. Rather than trying to nonsensically "treat" or "cure" something that isn't a disease, we attempt to change the social and civil environments to ones that are more accommodating.
You might expect that a campaign to promote "awareness" of autism would be educating people about what autism is, highlighting some Autistic role models, and explaining how to best support the Autistic people in your life. In practice, "autism awareness" campaigns don't seem to promote any message other than autism is a thing that exists. If that's all we're meant to be aware of, then frankly, I think we're at peak awareness. When I hear people talk about "raising" awareness further, I imagine some Amish family in the mountains, living off a tofu farm, that hasn't heard the word autism yet.
Awareness, at least autism awareness, is a meaningless buzzword. You can verify this by asking people at "autism awareness" events, "what does awareness mean?" and getting the word awareness thrown back at you in most of the answers. It's a signifier with nothing signified. Therefore, the only meaning it holds is by association with the people currently using it, and for the most part, those associations aren't pretty. When the main beneficiaries of "autism awareness" are also the people encouraging us to buy blue light bulbs and commit child abuse, "awareness" becomes a top priority to replace.
The Autistic community's answer? Acceptance. That word is loaded with meaning, and every year we make concerted efforts to pack it with more: Acceptance is an action. Acceptance is more than just passive tolerance of Autistic people's existence. Acceptance is implementing accommodations before they're needed. Acceptance is presuming competence. Acceptance is solidarity. Autism acceptance is a fundamental shift in mindset that embraces the neurodiversity paradigm and the social model of disability.
Thanks to the aggressive promotion of acceptance within the Autistic community, we're starting to see the idea of replacing awareness with acceptance take hold in things created by non-Autistic organizers. Some people chase the imaginary neutral position by including both words, while others see what the world is trending towards, and hop on board with acceptance.
However, bringing a word out of the fringe and into the mainstream has an unfortunate side effect: The fringe no longer has control over the word's meaning. The word is subject to the large-scale social mechanisms behind language development. The word's meaning is now derived from consensus rather than logic or purpose.
Just as awareness can shift from education and understanding to "beware the autism boogeyman", the meaning of acceptance can shift to harmful ideas like "accept the tragedy of autistic life" or "accept the real child hidden behind the autism." If that happens, then acceptance is no different from awareness. It's stolen from the activist toolbox and becomes one of the master's tools. Our years of work become a failed experiment and we're forced to start over.
Already there are organizations co-opting the acceptance label to dupe their Autistic audiences into not making a fuss, when the content is still the same message that we protest. There are well-intentioned "acceptance" events where the people who show up use the word acceptance because it's there, but are really still stuck in the awareness mindset, undermining the events.
It is not enough to correct these occurrences for misusing a word, for they may be ignorant of the intended meaning of one label, but their overall messages are quite intentional, as they have always been. It is necessary for us to condemn phony acceptance as fraud, and as hatred.
We must not let acceptance become a buzzword. If it does, then we have made no progress towards actually autistic people being actually accepted.
Language has power, and replacing meaningless buzzwords with things that are meaningful is an important part of pro-Autistic activism: Rather than appealing to a vaguely defined "functioning" level, we describe what people's specific support needs are. Rather than trying to nonsensically "treat" or "cure" something that isn't a disease, we attempt to change the social and civil environments to ones that are more accommodating.
You might expect that a campaign to promote "awareness" of autism would be educating people about what autism is, highlighting some Autistic role models, and explaining how to best support the Autistic people in your life. In practice, "autism awareness" campaigns don't seem to promote any message other than autism is a thing that exists. If that's all we're meant to be aware of, then frankly, I think we're at peak awareness. When I hear people talk about "raising" awareness further, I imagine some Amish family in the mountains, living off a tofu farm, that hasn't heard the word autism yet.
Awareness, at least autism awareness, is a meaningless buzzword. You can verify this by asking people at "autism awareness" events, "what does awareness mean?" and getting the word awareness thrown back at you in most of the answers. It's a signifier with nothing signified. Therefore, the only meaning it holds is by association with the people currently using it, and for the most part, those associations aren't pretty. When the main beneficiaries of "autism awareness" are also the people encouraging us to buy blue light bulbs and commit child abuse, "awareness" becomes a top priority to replace.
The Autistic community's answer? Acceptance. That word is loaded with meaning, and every year we make concerted efforts to pack it with more: Acceptance is an action. Acceptance is more than just passive tolerance of Autistic people's existence. Acceptance is implementing accommodations before they're needed. Acceptance is presuming competence. Acceptance is solidarity. Autism acceptance is a fundamental shift in mindset that embraces the neurodiversity paradigm and the social model of disability.
Thanks to the aggressive promotion of acceptance within the Autistic community, we're starting to see the idea of replacing awareness with acceptance take hold in things created by non-Autistic organizers. Some people chase the imaginary neutral position by including both words, while others see what the world is trending towards, and hop on board with acceptance.
However, bringing a word out of the fringe and into the mainstream has an unfortunate side effect: The fringe no longer has control over the word's meaning. The word is subject to the large-scale social mechanisms behind language development. The word's meaning is now derived from consensus rather than logic or purpose.
Just as awareness can shift from education and understanding to "beware the autism boogeyman", the meaning of acceptance can shift to harmful ideas like "accept the tragedy of autistic life" or "accept the real child hidden behind the autism." If that happens, then acceptance is no different from awareness. It's stolen from the activist toolbox and becomes one of the master's tools. Our years of work become a failed experiment and we're forced to start over.
Already there are organizations co-opting the acceptance label to dupe their Autistic audiences into not making a fuss, when the content is still the same message that we protest. There are well-intentioned "acceptance" events where the people who show up use the word acceptance because it's there, but are really still stuck in the awareness mindset, undermining the events.
It is not enough to correct these occurrences for misusing a word, for they may be ignorant of the intended meaning of one label, but their overall messages are quite intentional, as they have always been. It is necessary for us to condemn phony acceptance as fraud, and as hatred.
We must not let acceptance become a buzzword. If it does, then we have made no progress towards actually autistic people being actually accepted.
4/11/16
Not All Labels Are Created Equal
I wrote this article as part of the A-Z neurodiversity series
created by Un-boxed Brain for Autism Acceptance Month. It is listed in
that series as "L is for Labels"
The moment you tell me that you "don't like labels" is the moment I know you're being dishonest. If you speak any oral, written, or signed language, you use labels constantly: Child, adult, doctor, musician, gamer, optimist, pet owner, car enthusiast – These are all labels.
If you honestly tried to remove every label from your own speaking patterns, you would immediately run into the problem of infinite regression, as most label words can only be defined with other label words. Rather than "pet owner" you would try to say a person who lives with an animal in the same house, but then realize that person, animal, and house are all labels, and arguably so is the phrase "lives with" as a synonym of roommate.
We use labels for their utility, and out of practical necessity. Without labels, the only nouns in any language would be this, that, and pronouns. We would have zero ability to discuss concepts. You don't say "I don't like labels" when somebody calls you by your name, or occupation, or hobbies. The real meat of the conversation is those labels that are less mundane - more radical - not yet accepted as mainstream.
By "I don't like labels" you really mean "I don't like the label you just used." After fixing the language, the complaint is more relatable. We all have words we don't like; racist or ableist slurs for example. We might not all be on the same page about the details, but I think we can agree that some labels are neutral, like names or ages, some are bad, like slurs, and some are good. Let's start with the bad:
Dumb, stupid, moronic, idiotic, and- if those first 4 words didn't shock you then this shouldn't either- retarded, are used as slurs against disabled people to insult us directly, and that's obviously harmful. They are also used against non-disabled people, to insult them by comparison to disabled people, which is of course offensive to all disabled people. Yet neither of those applications are what make these words less-than-useless as labels.
Ableist slurs based on "intelligence" end your thought process. If you don't like something, just call it "stupid" and swish your hands together like you're shaking off crumbs. Why don't you like that "stupid" thing? Well, because it’s stupid! The same can be done with "sanity" slurs and with the word lame.
In this scenario, we're not even talking about a person. We're talking about an object (or an emergent property of an object, like a story or a computer program) that has no brain and is thus incapable of having any brain-related characteristic. The word "stupid" thus has nothing to do with a brain; it's just an empty metaphor where you can file away everything in the broad category of "I don't like it." Since intelligence is a vaguely defined social construct invented to justify ableism, this is all equally true when we ARE talking about a person.
The basic utility of a label is to shorten a longer phrase: Rather than carrying around "small battery-powered computers that transmit digitized sound waves across great distances and reinterpret them on the other side", we carry cellphones. Human communication would be incredibly slow and cumbersome without labels to signify larger phrases. The problem with a label like "stupid" is that it fails to represent any phrase other than "I don't like it." Lazy critics may think they are signifying something important by referencing intelligence, when really it signifies nothing. If you get too used to calling things stupid, you learn to rely on it, but take the word away, and you are forced to describe the details of your actual complaints. If you don't care about removing ableist slurs from your vocabulary because they're ableist, remove them because you will become a better communicator without them.
High-functioning, low-functioning, mild, severe, and the nonsensical non-clarification of "Asperger's, not autism" are similar to "intelligence" slurs in the sense that they don't really signify anything. There is no set of characteristics that constitutes any measurable "functioning" or "severity" level.
Language has a tremendous influence on how we think, but that influence does not necessarily require using the language to communicate clearly. In some cases ambiguity may even be where the real power lies. Even if a label has no meaning behind it, the fact that people think it has meaning gives it power.
Functioning labels create categories out of thin air, simply by naming them, without even defining them. The connotations of "high" and "low" create a hierarchy: One label paints a target for prejudice, the other grants a shot at being accepted into the real privilege of the neurotypical label, at the cost of not having any support in doing so.
Labels without meaning aren't a new concept. If you're familiar with advertising, then you've surely encountered words like deluxe, gourmet, premium, and world-class. In the realm of advertising, these labels are known as buzzwords. If you've had the unfortunate experience of "autism awareness" groups, then of course you know that "awareness" is a buzzword too.
Awareness would ideally mean what it sounds like, a knowledge and understanding of the subject. In practice "awareness" campaigns, especially the ones about autism, have perverted the label such that it now signifies nothing more than seeing the word more frequently.
The label of "awareness" is a blank slate. It can encompass a variety of endeavors, from messages resembling those of neurodiversity to abusive practices derived from misinformation. Anyone can latch on with their own idea of what they feel "awareness" should mean. The label doesn't inherently mean anything, and yet we see communities come together on the basis of the label, just because a label exists. "Awareness" has the power to unite people, in the joint mission of doing nothing in particular, but doing it together.
Neurotypical people (along with several other categories including white, straight, and cis) often reject the label of neurotypical. As is true for my pronouncements about slurs and functioning labels, when someone tells you not to use the word neurotypical, that's because they don't want you recognizing neurotypical as a concept.
If you constantly avoid labels, instead referring to everyone as people, then any time you give in and take the easy route, you'll be contrasting a label against "person" thus implying that whoever you're talking about isn't a person.
You can't just do away with human traits by not talking about them. Because there is no universal set of human experiences, desires, or needs, the differences between us matter. In a world where most people speak with their mouths and assume everyone else does too, I need the autism label to explain why typing is better. In a world of sensory assault, where "I don't want to" is not a sufficient excuse, I need the autism label to justify my self-protection.
It would be great if labels like autism weren't necessary. It would be great if ableism didn't exist, but that's one hell of a hypothetical. Ableism is an extreme and far-reaching problem that can't be solved without labeling the specific disabilities of the people being harmed.
Those who think it wrong to label ourselves autistic are operating under false notion that there is something wrong with being autistic. The autism label may be used to create stigma against us, but it also gives us something to reclaim. Before the label, we only had terms like weird, or abnormal, or worse. With the label we have something to point to for positive identity and pride.
Before the autism label existed, autistic people were disconnected, isolated individuals. We needed the label before we could begin to congregate on the basis of being literally like-minded. We need the label in order to search for resources from people with the same experiences. The autism label enables Autistic community. Uniting ourselves categorically unites us as people.
Bringing autistic people together also led to the creation of other terms, like stimming and special interests, which capture the beauty of autism and Autistic culture. These terms were created out of necessity and out of appreciation for our shared community.
...and it's all thanks to a label.
The following article contains 238 labels.
The moment you tell me that you "don't like labels" is the moment I know you're being dishonest. If you speak any oral, written, or signed language, you use labels constantly: Child, adult, doctor, musician, gamer, optimist, pet owner, car enthusiast – These are all labels.
If you honestly tried to remove every label from your own speaking patterns, you would immediately run into the problem of infinite regression, as most label words can only be defined with other label words. Rather than "pet owner" you would try to say a person who lives with an animal in the same house, but then realize that person, animal, and house are all labels, and arguably so is the phrase "lives with" as a synonym of roommate.
We use labels for their utility, and out of practical necessity. Without labels, the only nouns in any language would be this, that, and pronouns. We would have zero ability to discuss concepts. You don't say "I don't like labels" when somebody calls you by your name, or occupation, or hobbies. The real meat of the conversation is those labels that are less mundane - more radical - not yet accepted as mainstream.
By "I don't like labels" you really mean "I don't like the label you just used." After fixing the language, the complaint is more relatable. We all have words we don't like; racist or ableist slurs for example. We might not all be on the same page about the details, but I think we can agree that some labels are neutral, like names or ages, some are bad, like slurs, and some are good. Let's start with the bad:
Ableist slurs hinder our ability to communicate.
Dumb, stupid, moronic, idiotic, and- if those first 4 words didn't shock you then this shouldn't either- retarded, are used as slurs against disabled people to insult us directly, and that's obviously harmful. They are also used against non-disabled people, to insult them by comparison to disabled people, which is of course offensive to all disabled people. Yet neither of those applications are what make these words less-than-useless as labels.
Ableist slurs based on "intelligence" end your thought process. If you don't like something, just call it "stupid" and swish your hands together like you're shaking off crumbs. Why don't you like that "stupid" thing? Well, because it’s stupid! The same can be done with "sanity" slurs and with the word lame.
In this scenario, we're not even talking about a person. We're talking about an object (or an emergent property of an object, like a story or a computer program) that has no brain and is thus incapable of having any brain-related characteristic. The word "stupid" thus has nothing to do with a brain; it's just an empty metaphor where you can file away everything in the broad category of "I don't like it." Since intelligence is a vaguely defined social construct invented to justify ableism, this is all equally true when we ARE talking about a person.
The basic utility of a label is to shorten a longer phrase: Rather than carrying around "small battery-powered computers that transmit digitized sound waves across great distances and reinterpret them on the other side", we carry cellphones. Human communication would be incredibly slow and cumbersome without labels to signify larger phrases. The problem with a label like "stupid" is that it fails to represent any phrase other than "I don't like it." Lazy critics may think they are signifying something important by referencing intelligence, when really it signifies nothing. If you get too used to calling things stupid, you learn to rely on it, but take the word away, and you are forced to describe the details of your actual complaints. If you don't care about removing ableist slurs from your vocabulary because they're ableist, remove them because you will become a better communicator without them.
Functioning labels divide our community.
High-functioning, low-functioning, mild, severe, and the nonsensical non-clarification of "Asperger's, not autism" are similar to "intelligence" slurs in the sense that they don't really signify anything. There is no set of characteristics that constitutes any measurable "functioning" or "severity" level.
Language has a tremendous influence on how we think, but that influence does not necessarily require using the language to communicate clearly. In some cases ambiguity may even be where the real power lies. Even if a label has no meaning behind it, the fact that people think it has meaning gives it power.
Functioning labels create categories out of thin air, simply by naming them, without even defining them. The connotations of "high" and "low" create a hierarchy: One label paints a target for prejudice, the other grants a shot at being accepted into the real privilege of the neurotypical label, at the cost of not having any support in doing so.
Meaningless buzzwords unite us toward inaction.
Labels without meaning aren't a new concept. If you're familiar with advertising, then you've surely encountered words like deluxe, gourmet, premium, and world-class. In the realm of advertising, these labels are known as buzzwords. If you've had the unfortunate experience of "autism awareness" groups, then of course you know that "awareness" is a buzzword too.
Awareness would ideally mean what it sounds like, a knowledge and understanding of the subject. In practice "awareness" campaigns, especially the ones about autism, have perverted the label such that it now signifies nothing more than seeing the word more frequently.
The label of "awareness" is a blank slate. It can encompass a variety of endeavors, from messages resembling those of neurodiversity to abusive practices derived from misinformation. Anyone can latch on with their own idea of what they feel "awareness" should mean. The label doesn't inherently mean anything, and yet we see communities come together on the basis of the label, just because a label exists. "Awareness" has the power to unite people, in the joint mission of doing nothing in particular, but doing it together.
Privileged people reject their own labels.
Neurotypical people (along with several other categories including white, straight, and cis) often reject the label of neurotypical. As is true for my pronouncements about slurs and functioning labels, when someone tells you not to use the word neurotypical, that's because they don't want you recognizing neurotypical as a concept.
When asked for an alternative, neurotypicals may offer the word "normal" or something similar, but that perfectly illustrates the problem with not having a label for neurotypical. Normalcy is a tool of oppression. Calling one set of people "normal" presents that set as the only good and healthy way to be, which in turn instantly paints everyone else as weird, alien, bad, and unhealthy.
The other alternative is to avoid labels altogether. Why do we need those words at all? Can't we all be human beings? Why can't we just call everybody people?
We can't just call everybody people.
If you constantly avoid labels, instead referring to everyone as people, then any time you give in and take the easy route, you'll be contrasting a label against "person" thus implying that whoever you're talking about isn't a person.
You can't just do away with human traits by not talking about them. Because there is no universal set of human experiences, desires, or needs, the differences between us matter. In a world where most people speak with their mouths and assume everyone else does too, I need the autism label to explain why typing is better. In a world of sensory assault, where "I don't want to" is not a sufficient excuse, I need the autism label to justify my self-protection.
It would be great if labels like autism weren't necessary. It would be great if ableism didn't exist, but that's one hell of a hypothetical. Ableism is an extreme and far-reaching problem that can't be solved without labeling the specific disabilities of the people being harmed.
Identity labels create communities.
Those who think it wrong to label ourselves autistic are operating under false notion that there is something wrong with being autistic. The autism label may be used to create stigma against us, but it also gives us something to reclaim. Before the label, we only had terms like weird, or abnormal, or worse. With the label we have something to point to for positive identity and pride.
Before the autism label existed, autistic people were disconnected, isolated individuals. We needed the label before we could begin to congregate on the basis of being literally like-minded. We need the label in order to search for resources from people with the same experiences. The autism label enables Autistic community. Uniting ourselves categorically unites us as people.
Bringing autistic people together also led to the creation of other terms, like stimming and special interests, which capture the beauty of autism and Autistic culture. These terms were created out of necessity and out of appreciation for our shared community.
...and it's all thanks to a label.
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