And On Into 2019

Happy New Year! I’m still here, although apparently I didn’t quite manage to post anything to this blog during the entire fall semester and beyond. (Looking back, I see I even said in my last post that I was hoping to get back to a more regular blogging schedule soon. :facepalm:) BUT! I am still here, so…here I am.

The semester went well! I took a sociology class called Social Inequality, and a class in statistics for the social sciences, and thoroughly enjoyed them both. The Neurodiversity Club I helped to found got off to a good start as well, and we have plans for a few different kinds of events for the spring. I also made a lot of progress playing the mandolin, kept up with work, and maintained a steady spiritual practice. It was a bit of a mad dash to the end of the year, but I made it through the holidays and now have a few weeks off of school before the spring semester starts.

During that time, I need to finish up and submit my application to graduate school, which is very exciting. Everything’s almost in order; I just want to take some time to go back over the paper I’m using as my writing sample and make sure it all still looks good. One of my former professors had some great suggestions for potential improvements, and I want to try to work in at least some of them. (Some will have to wait for another time, for various reasons; they were very good ideas, but I’m not sure they’re best suited to this particular paper.)

For the spring, I am registered for a class in the sociology of gender, and one in research methods for the social sciences. The sociology professor also approached me about potentially doing an original research project as part of the gender class, and presenting it at one or possibly two events late in the spring. So I’m going to be thinking more about that over the next few weeks as well, and try to come up with a project I can reasonably do in the timeframe I have. And of course I’ve loaded myself up with a whole bunch of reading I hadn’t been able to get to while I was doing classwork, so the concept of “time off from school” is perhaps a little misleading. 😉

In any case, I also plan to do some thinking about how I want to proceed with this blog. I don’t want to promise a more regular posting schedule (again) because I know things are going to get busy. But I do want to give some thought as to how I might generate some future topics for blog posts, possibly correlated with things I am reading and thinking about for school. After all, if I do get into the program I’m applying for, I’ll be diving even deeper into academia for a good long while. It would be great to have a place to share some of what’s going on with that, both in terms of the actual content of my research and my experiences as an autistic academic. Any ideas? Anything in particular you would like to hear about?

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Various Goings-On

It’s been a busy summer, but a kind of comfortable busy; I’ve had plenty of time to pursue new things, as well as to relax, while moving forward with plans in several different directions. I’ve been spending a lot of time studying for the GRE, which I am taking this Saturday. (GRE stands for Graduate Record Exam, which is required by many graduate programs in the US; for those familiar with other US standardized tests, it’s kind of like the SAT but for graduate school. It’s about a four hour long test of English language and mathematical ability.) Most of my studying has been brushing up on math that I haven’t needed in over twenty years, most of which I expect not to need again after the test, but so it goes.

I’ve also been working on a couple of different writing projects, one of which I am hoping to finish up before fall classes start at the beginning of September. There’s a little over a week between getting through the GRE this weekend and the beginning of the semester, and I think that will be enough time. It’s nearly done as it is, I just need to do some final edits and put together an introduction that highlights the major points.

Speaking of the fall semester, I am also excited to say that I have been working on getting a Neurodiversity Club started at my school! We had a preliminary meeting back in June to gauge interest among students who identified as neurodivergent (in whatever way), and had a great response. A couple of us then worked together to put together a proposed club constitution, which we will finalize with the larger group later this week. Then it gets submitted to the Student Activities coordinator, and if she approves it, we present it to the Student Senate in September. I’m really excited about it, because it’ll be a way to provide peer support for neurodivergent students, as well as raise the profile of neurodiversity in general.

I’m excited to be getting back to school and starting new classes, too. I did take a week off from work and most other scheduled activities last week, which was nice. I visited family for a couple of days for my birthday, and then spent a lovely week at home with my husband and dogs. We both started playing the video game We Happy Few that week, which is a fantastic (but quite dark) game with a dystopian, alternate-history setting. (It’s got this wonderfully quirky and amusing tone, though, despite the eerie and often-depressing storyline. I like the combination quite a bit.) I heard about the game from Invisible Autistic, who drew a comparison between the game mechanics and autistic masking. Having played it for several hours at this point, I completely agree with the parallels she noted.

So, busy, but mostly busy with fun and engaging things. I’m hoping to get back to a more regular blogging schedule after this weekend; I’ll at least have new classes to talk about, and stuff about the Neurodiversity Club. I think one reason I like being in school is the structure it gives to my schedule. Work does that a little bit, but my current job is so flexible that it’s not quite enough structure. But speaking of which, I need to sign off and get working for today. Talk to you later!

Attribution Errors

My last couple of posts have been drawn from brief essays I wrote for a social psychology class I took last semester. When Laina Eartharcher shared the second one on her blog Laina’s Collection, she commented that “What I get out of this is that we’re not as “weird” or “disordered as much of the medical profession makes us out to be. Maybe we’re just more aware of it, and it might be heightened for us through our wiring, but it might not be so “wrong” after all.”

It turns out that’s exactly what I wanted to get across by posting some of my thoughts from that class. 🙂 I had that experience all the way through, in fact: I’d read some section of the textbook and think, “Ok, so everyone (in aggregate, at least) has this experience. So why is it so pathologized in autistics?”

Consider how we interpret and explain other people’s behavior; this is often wrapped up in the so-called “theory of mind” that autistic people supposedly lack (but don’t really). The way it is presented, autistics have difficulty taking the perspectives of others, and understanding what is going on inside their heads. However, people make decisions all the time when interpreting others’ words or behavior, and they don’t always get it right; one prominent example in our textbook was of a man misinterpreting a woman’s friendliness for flirtation. In order to interpret the meaning of behavior, we need to attribute it to something, and in this case the friendly smile is misattributed to sexual interest.

Our attributions are also affected by how much we know about what the person in question is going through. Let’s say someone gets impatient while waiting in line, and snaps at the person ahead of him. If you know he’s been under a lot of stress and is maybe on a tight schedule, you might be more understanding and cut him some slack. This is called a situational attribution; you are attributing his crankiness to his external situation. If, however, you don’t know this person at all, you might be more inclined to assume he’s just a nasty person with a bad attitude. This is called a dispositional attribution; you are attributing his snappishness to his personality, or disposition. We assume his hostility is due to his personal traits rather than adverse circumstances.

With me so far? These two things combine into the idea of the fundamental attribution error, which is the tendency to downplay the effects of circumstances and instead attribute behavior to personal traits…when it comes to other people. When we justify our own behavior, though, we tend to point to the situation for an explanation. So if someone else is late, they’re lazy and inconsiderate. If we ourselves are late, we were held up in traffic, or had a last-minute emergency that we couldn’t avoid. (But of course, if we do something noble and good, that’s all us, and not circumstantial at all. 😉

There are several potential reasons for this fundamental attribution error, not least of which is the fact that we have a lot more knowledge about our own circumstances than those of other people, so we can put our own behavior into context more easily. Plus we want to feel good about ourselves, so if we make a mistake we look for external reasons why we might have slipped up. There are cultural influences, too; individualistic cultures like the US are more likely to attribute things to a person’s individual traits. But they all add up to a tendency to interpret other people’s behavior differently than we want our own behavior to be interpreted.

It also means that, by ignoring situational influences, people misinterpret others’ intentions all the time. So why are autistics particularly singled out for having “theory of mind” deficits when we have trouble with social interpretation?

In the end, this relates back to what Damian Milton calls the “double empathy problem.” In this way of thinking about it, social communication “issues are not due to autistic cognition alone, but a breakdown in reciprocity and mutual understanding that can happen between people with very differing ways of experiencing the world.” Of course, when you’re autistic, and interacting primarily with people who do not share your way of experiencing the world, things like misinterpretations and misattributions may indeed be more frequent. But that’s not an autistic deficit, that’s a deficit of mutual understanding.

So yes, in addition to finding social psychology fascinating, I went through the entire class thinking, “Hey, that’s a thing autistics get accused of “struggling with” all the time, but in reality the human as a social animal is just…kinda bizarre.” At least we have people out there studying these things to try to make sense of them! 😉

On Alert

Here’s another bit of writing from my social psychology class last semester. We were reading and discussing the influence that groups have on our level of physiological arousal, and how being in a group tends to heighten our sense of arousal, which can be experienced as excitement or as stress. There was one section that broke out a few different reasons for this increased arousal, which I found interesting in light of my tendency to feel overwhelmed or anxious in the presence of others.

The first one was evaluation apprehension. When you feel others are judging you, you feel “on alert.” An obvious example is the way most people feel nervous about public speaking, or performing a solo musical piece for the first time. Everyone’s eyes are on you, and you worry about how you will look to them. But the same goes for informal social situations, especially if you have been teased or ostracized in the past for being socially awkward. You start to feel as if every social occasion will involve evaluation and judgment, and this breeds anxiety.

The second factor was distraction. When you are performing a task as part of a group, it’s easy for your attention to become split between doing the task yourself and looking to see how the rest of your group is doing, especially if you notice someone else faltering. For example, I used to sing in a small choir, and it was very hard to stay focused on my part if another member shifted position, or stumbled on the timing, or otherwise drew my attention.

The last factor mentioned was the “mere presence” of other people. This didn’t seem well-explained to me, just thrown out there as a catch-all to say that people (and non-human animals) still get aroused by the presence of others even if they aren’t distracted or competing with each other. But for me it did connect with a third factor that comes into play, which is sensory overload from the presence of other people. This could just be considered a part of the distraction factor, because it is often sensory input from a group that causes distraction for me, but it’s also there as an unconscious influence even if it doesn’t distract me at the time. So yes, the mere presence of other people—especially in large numbers—definitely has an effect on me as well.

Social Influence

I was looking back at some writing I did for my social psychology class last spring, and found some thoughts I wanted to share and expand on here. The subject in question was conformity and group influence, and specifically the classification of influence into two types: normative influence and informational influence.

Normative influence is essentially when you follow what others are doing in order to fit in. This might manifest as peer pressure, but also things like following the ways of a different culture when visiting. Informational influence is when you follow what others are doing or saying in order to get things right. When you don’t trust your knowledge in a given situation, you might go along with the crowd if they seem to know what they are doing.

As I was reading about this, I kept thinking about how these concepts apply to autistic people. I don’t think we’re immune to social influence and the pressure to conform, but our relationship to social interaction is often so different from the typical population that we may respond to them in different ways.

For example, the textbook mentioned that people often respond to normative influence without realizing it; they pick up social cues and adjust their behavior accordingly to fit in. It’s a sort of unconscious conformity. But for an autistic person who may not intuitively notice or understand those social cues, what often results is not unconscious conformity but unconscious nonconformity. The social rejection that often follows is then completely baffling.

Personally, I think many autistic people blend informational and normative influence to a large extent: we absorb the social “rules” through an informational process of studying others and learning what we’re “supposed” to do. We may then follow those rules for normative reasons, but we got there through an informational process. There was an example in the book where the author was in an audience where people rapped on the table instead of clapping, and I found this to be a good illustration: due to normative influence, the author didn’t want to be the only person clapping, and he learned what to do instead through informational influence. I think this is fairly typical of the way autistic people use the two to try to fit in.

I also, however, experience a strong aversion to some forms of normative influence; in many cases, I just don’t care to do what everyone else is doing. If something seems nonsensical to me, I’d rather simply be elsewhere than follow along to fit in. (This likely underlies some of my problematic relationship with groups, as mentioned in last week’s post.) I also tend not to privilege group consensus over my own research or perceptions when it comes to factual matters. I’ve seen both of these attitudes in a lot of other autistic people, too, and it really makes me wonder what would happen if some of the classic conformity studies were repeated with autistic participants.

Autism, Sex, and Gender

Over the last couple of days, I watched all of the available recordings from a conference titled “Intimate Lives? Autism, Sex/uality, Gender and Identity.” It was organized by four doctoral students–Marianthi Kourti, David Jackson-Perry, Kirsty Allenby, and Daniel Bendelman–and funded by the British Sociological Association. It took place on May 18 at the University of Birmingham in the UK. Overall I thought the presentations were excellent, and while I’m not going to write up a play-by-play of each one, I wanted to share some of the content that particularly resonated with me.

Preliminary note: I have tried to use the proper preferred pronouns for each speaker, but if I have gotten any of them wrong, I sincerely apologize. Please let me know so I can update the post. In addition, if I have mischaracterized anyone’s statements or opinions, please let me know as well. I have done my best to accurate represent what was said, but misunderstandings happen, and I don’t want to attribute anything to anyone that they didn’t mean.

In “Walking through Treacle: The lived experiences of autistic students in FE and HE,” Deborah Philip talked about research she has been doing into the experiences of autistic students. This wasn’t specifically focused on gender and sexuality, but it was very interesting to hear how her research has changed directions because of her interactions with autistic people. She had initially been interviewing autistic people, parents, teachers, and other professionals, but then she noticed that the autistic students themselves were telling her quite different stories than their parents and teachers were. So she changed her plans and began using only input from autistic people themselves, and focusing on the issues that came up as being important to them.

Deborah brought up the idea of “learned helplessness” to suggest a reason why the students often pretended to agree with what their parents were saying, but then told her otherwise afterwards. (Learned helplessness is a psychological phenomenon that occurs when an individual is repeatedly subjected to painful conditions that they cannot escape. Later, when escape is possible, it is still not attempted because the individual has previously learned that they are helpless, so they don’t even try.) I thought this was a particularly poignant way of describing the experiences of people who are constantly talked over, their own experiences and viewpoints subordinated to other people’s.

One more thing I want to say about this presentation was what Deborah said about person-first language. (If you regularly read this blog, you’ll already know that I’m not a fan.) She said that while professionals tend to insist on person-first language, the autistic people she worked with preferred identity-first language. At one point she also invoked the phrase “living with autism” by saying, “I guess a society that wants to ‘live with’ something, would like to live without it.” I thought that was very powerful as well.

In the second panel, Lexi Orchard presented “Winning at Sexuality: A personal reflection of passing in a hypersexualised world.” They started with an overview of some of the ways in which autistic people attempt to pass as non-autistic, including suppressing our natural behavior, impersonating more typical behavior, and scripting. They also had their own term for another technique, which I found incredibly relatable: they called it “precog.” This involves attempting to foresee all of the possible directions a social encounter might go, following all of the potential branches and preparing scripted routines for each of them. This was so familiar to me, and I love the term “precog” (short for precognition, I presume) to describe it. I actually think this strategy really needs to be talked about more, because it is one of the things that makes social interaction so draining and exhausting for me.

Lexi also talked about how masking, scripting, and other techniques are done out of self-defense. They are survival skills that (hopefully) allow us to avoid painful encounters and also get access to social resources. But there are heavy consequences to passing, too: it takes a physical toll, and eventually makes it hard to even know yourself or your own preferences. At one point, Lexi said, “If somebody says, ‘What do you want?’, my brain suddenly goes into this passing mode where I attempt to figure out what you want me to want.” This, too, was painfully familiar.

As part of panel three, Jake Pyne presented “Narrating Autistic and Transgender: Implications for the Gender Clinic.” He talked about the ways in which autism and transgender identity are assumed to be non-overlapping, and the many barriers autistic people face if they want to transition. Jake also brought up the entwined history of applied behavior analysis (ABA) and so-called conversion therapy, which is aimed at gay, bi, and transgender people to “fix” them; Ole Ivar Lovaas and George Rekers worked together as they created these parallel behavior conditioning programs—one to eradicate autistic behavior, and one to eradicate gender-nonconformity. But while conversion therapy is starting to be banned in more and more areas, ABA is still considered best practice for autistic kids.

Olivia Astrid Pountney also talked about the barriers to transitioning that many autistic people face, in “Transitioning in a neurotypical world: A critical autistic analysis on gender identity services.” She talked about the typical narrative expected by gender clinics, and how it doesn’t always fit the trans autistic experience. For example, she talked about the ways in which people are expected to perform stereotypical gender roles in order to be accepted as being “really” their gender, but for autistic people those social norms are often nonsensical. They can also clash with sensory needs, which leads to the dilemma, for her, of choosing between wearing sensory-friendly clothing that isn’t stylish, or wearing more stylish clothing that conforms to gender expectations in order to be accepted as a woman (while being uncomfortable). She pointed out that there is no universal experience of being trans, autistic, or both, and emphasized the need to depathologize both trans and neurodivergent identities.

In “Spanking my sensory needs? An understanding of myself as a human, a sexual being and an Autistic,” Jennifer Layton talked about the ways in which BDSM practices allowed her to inadvertently meet her sensory needs before she learned she was autistic. After a late diagnosis, she was given various recommendations for her sensory diet, and she came to realize that they were things she had always enjoyed through BDSM. For example, she was given the recommendation to wear tight clothing and/or wear a weighted backpack for a feeling of pressure…which is precisely the experience of being tightly bound in rope and/or rubber. Similarly, a recommendation that she swing back and forth was mirrored by her enjoyment of suspension play. Because kink is so misunderstood and pathologized, she had felt ashamed of her enjoyment of it, but she is starting to overcome that, in part through this recognition that it has allowed her to meet her autistic sensory needs before she consciously knew she had them.

The last presentation I’ll talk about is Sonny Hallett’s “To Hug or not to Hug: physical affection at the intersection of autism, culture and gender.” There were several fascinating aspects to their talk, including the experience they shared of growing up partly in the UK and partly in China with their grandparents. The two cultures have very different expectations about physical contact (and eye contact), especially between strangers, and Sonny found their autistic traits more normalized in China. They found the social environment harder to navigate when they returned to the UK, including knowing when physical contact would be welcome.

The main dilemma that Sonny conveyed was that, while they felt starved for physical affection, it was also often uncomfortable, and they didn’t know how to seek it out when they wanted it. On top of that, they mentioned how Westerners tend to sexualize everything, starting at an early age. Casual touching, or giving someone a hug, is quickly seen as a sexual overture, so knowing how people will interpret things becomes important. For an autistic person who has trouble reading social cues, this becomes even more difficult, and Sonny said they eventually ended up taking a passive approach to physical affection. But simply allowing physical contact whenever it comes your way can quickly become dangerous, because you don’t learn how to set boundaries. They described what they called “anxiety confusion thought-cycle paralysis,” which is when you’re trying to read a situation that is getting uncomfortable, going around in circles about what’s going on, and then ending up deciding that you’re overthinking it and not saying anything. This, too, felt very familiar to me.

All in all, this was a great conference, and I don’t want to give the impression that the sessions I didn’t write about weren’t interesting—all of them were, and together they offered a wide variety of research, observations, and personal experiences that centered autistic experiences of gender and sexuality in a way that was very encouraging. I hope to see more events do the same.

Crunch Week, With Ducks

This last week felt like a marathon run at a sprinter’s pace. My work schedule became something of a crunch just as I was finishing up the last week of my school semester. But finish it I did, and all of my work, too; there just wasn’t much time for anything else.

I did go to Pride last weekend, which was my first time. And it was fun, but very…overwhelming. I felt like I was constantly immersed in waves of people, and the sound system for the staged events was ridiculously loud (and I was wearing earplugs). If I wanted to be close enough to be able to see the stage, I had to put up with a volume level that threatened to give me a headache. I don’t understand how anyone could stand it, to be honest—especially the people who were even closer. I’m still happy that I went, but it was hard to enjoy it as much as I wanted to.

So I started my week feeling already a bit fried. Then I had a number of “extras” sprinkled throughout my schedule for the week—one-off events, or monthly appointments—that filled in a lot of the time and also made me feel continually pulled from one thing to the next. That also tends to leave me feeling fried. So here I am at the end of the week, trying to remember what it is I wanted to write about, and deciding I’ll just write about feeling fried.

This weekend is a busy one, too, and Monday is looking like a bear, but at least after that my schedule “should” be easing up now that my classes are done. But there are so many things that I’ve been wanting to get back to, or wanting to make time for, and I keep saying, “Ok, over the summer I’ll…” I want to make sure I don’t let those things slide, but I also need to give myself time to decompress from this latest crunch time.

Luckily, our beautiful land is full of spring wildlife, and the pond in particular has been a source of relaxing visuals and lovely sounds. (Although around dusk, those sounds can really ramp up. If you haven’t heard it, you’d be amazed at how ear-splitting a pond full of frogs can be.) I can’t help but take moments throughout the day to pause and look out at all of it.

So, here: have some ducks. In the past couple of years, we’ve had wood ducks bringing up ducklings in our pond, but this year it’s the mallards who have been around the most. Hoping for ducklings either way, though!

Pair of mallard ducks standing at the edge of a pond