ac·cept·ance

ac·cept·ance

əkˈseptəns/

noun: acceptance; plural noun: acceptances

the action or process of being received as adequate or suitable, typically to be admitted into a group.

“you must wait for acceptance into the club”

For a long time, disabled people have been waiting for this club acceptance. Some have been granted honorary membership in the club over the years. Those who can pass as “nearly normal” and seemingly have fewer needs can gain entry some of the time. Most of the time though, they are only accepted as temporary members and really have to work hard pretending not to be disabled. The minute their wheelchair or service animal causes an inconvenience to the club, they are cast out.

Autistic people are no exception to this club instability. Those who learn to keep their disability hidden sometimes can sneak in unnoticed. Soon, however, autistic behaviors arise and they too are cast out of the club. Does it matter that the autistic person’s behavior is often more mature or empathetic than that of their peers? No. The only thing that seems to matter is assimilation - not appearing disabled in any way.

Organizations have sprung up over the years to enforce this club membership. Oh they don’t tell you that is their goal; instead they tell you they are there to spread “awareness” and help fund “research for cures.” Both of these activities directly enforce strict regulation on club membership criteria, however. Awareness campaigns do so by pointing out and emphasizing people’s differences. By emphasizing an Autistic person’s behavior as different or unusual the idea that autistic people are “not like the other club members” is reinforced. That is, they do not belong in the club.

Then there is the “cure.” When an autistic person speaks out against curing themselves, organizations - especially those who want you to “Light it up Blue” or “Talk about Curing Autism,” tell club members that this is a testimony to how very ill the autistic person is. They use the autistic person’s disability against them by discounting their words and desires as irrelevant due to being disabled. These organizations talk about how very difficult autism is on club members as reason enough to eradicate autistic people. They do not want autistic people to exist because they believe autistic people are a burden to the club. They believe that autistic people are too different. Accepting diversity into a rigid group like this can be challenging. So all of this is for the convenience of the current club members; none of this is for autistic people. And none of this truly benefits the club in the long run.

The club sounds like a really awful group but it is one from which most cannot escape. It is society. And it is time that we remove the exclusivity from its membership criteria. It is time we stop determining who is worthy. And it is high time we stop holding “awareness” campaigns that stigmatize people based on their differences.

In honor of my son, my Prince, I celebrate Autism Acceptance. I do so not just this April, but everyday and will so for the rest of my life.