I am Black, I am a woman, I am autistic
I am a Black woman and I am 34 years old.
I never considered I might be autistic until after my second appointment in September 2022, as part of my ADHD assessment, the neurodevelopmental psychiatrist said ‘’I am 100% sure you are autistic’’. Since then I have researched incessantly what it means to be autistic, what it means to be neurodivergent and I have revisited my diary entries written in my youth and my autism is glaringly obvious now I know.
Black, woman and autistic. These attributes all intersect and make my experience of the world and how I am perceived markedly different from my non-Black autistic peers. Racism, sexism, misogyny and ableism are things I cannot escape.
I cannot take off my Blackness, womanness or neurodivergence to avoid discrimination. Autism Acceptance isn’t enough.
We do not need acceptance or tolerance; we need appreciation, celebration and respect. Autistic people, in particular, Black autistic women, need to be believed when we ask for support. Our words should be enough when we repeatedly communicate that we are struggling and need help. The legacy of slavery and white supremacy still affect us and this idea that we are ‘’strong’’ is actually harmful to us. Consider the prevalence for adultification of Black girls and it is not hard to understand why in our education system we are left to suffer and struggle.
Growing up autistic and not knowing it as a young Black girl I was repeatedly made aware that I was ‘’strange’’, ‘’odd’’, ‘’weird’’ and ‘’intentionally awkward’’. I wondered if it was because I wasn’t performing stereotypical Blackness. Autistic Black people exist. Being autistic is not a one size fits all experience or identity. The idea of a Black woman being autistic is a long way off from being understood, accepted and diagnosed.
Sexism and racism are massive barriers to diagnosis and support and we’re more likely to be misdiagnosed with a mental health condition because of this.
Black autistic women were once Black autistic girls. They were quiet or outspoken. They daydreamed or were highly observant. They had a lot of friends or they had very few. They read a lot or not at all. They obsessed over their favourite TV shows, films and pop stars. If pop culture wasn’t their thing, they devoured non-fiction material - encyclopaedias, medical books and the Reader’s Digest dictionary.
In social settings we are always getting direct and indirect clues that we are not adhering to the script. I honestly believe that this script is not just dependent on whether we are autistic or not, but also on race and gender. This hierarchy and the expected behaviour and customs that society demands we adhere to.
There are a lot of expectations on Black autistic women and the temptation to adhere to them, to follow them, to absorb them, is very great.
It takes a lot of courage and self-examination to understand and decide to live authentically as we are. Our Blackness and womanness are a huge part of our identity.
Culture and upbringing will shape how we think and feel about ourselves. But society has its own ideas of what it means to be Black, what it means to be a woman and even what it means to be autistic.
The spectrum is not a linear line. It is spiky. Just like being a woman and being Black is also not a linear line indicating someone is more or less what they are. You are autistic and your needs with another autistic person will differ. But this idea that someone is more or less autistic than somebody else is not helpful. Even within the autistic community, there is division and gatekeeping.
