I used to get yelled at a lot when I was younger, especially when it came to homework.
In one particular episode, a peer slapped his hands together while shouting, "You should be able to answer these questions — BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! — like that! Now 5 x 115 equals what?! GO!"
Unable to force an answer out of me, the peer gave up and abandoned me to failure, (after which I solved the problem in less than one minute).
A couple of things stand out in this particular episode.
First, the peer in question was aware that I was autistic. Second and foremost, the only information they had about autism came from mass media depictions the most common of which is that autistic people were secretly geniuses behind their quirky demeanor.
I'm a tad more forgiving when I look back on it today. Although there was a plethora of documents and studies examining the autism spectrum, for many it was, and still is, easier to fall back on simple tropes to explain an otherwise complex neurological condition.
Though well-intentioned, such stereotypes create obstacles for some autistic individuals to navigate the waters at home, in academia, and employment.
Autism Learning Partners defines a stereotype as a "generalization of an entire group" based on a "misunderstanding about the facts” (1).
In the case of autism, ALP provides 8-particular subtypes: autistic people are aggressive, obsessive, hyper-intelligent or unintelligent, unable to communicate, do not have emotions or relationships, and look different.
I have had an experience with most, if not all, of these subtypes.
When I was younger, I was either considered "super smart" or "special" (in place of a certain pejorative). Before I came across drama therapy at age 14, people would be lucky to hear a sneeze out of me. I've struggled with maintaining friendships most of my life, and even today bouts of frustration can result in an explosive outburst on my part.
As usual, once people get to know me it becomes easier to bridge gaps. When it comes to autistic stereotypes, there are a few things to remember before relying on the many tropes we see today.
If there's any good news about autism stereotypes, it's that there's usually a positive element to them.
I personally find that word of my diagnosis opens eyes for––and even inspires––others. My learning pitfalls suddenly become more understandable and, at times, people try to help me based on their understanding of autism. I'm not put in a corner or asked to leave. Instead, the other party may observe my learning process and try to work with me from there.
A frequent stereotype pertains to my intelligence. At the very least, those with a surface-level understanding of autism try to encourage me to do my best, because they see me as one who can solve a problem. There's a degree of hope that comes with an ASD diagnosis, and sometimes this motivates peers to let me operate at my own pace as opposed to rushing me along.
Another positive stems from my ability to speak. Yes, many autistics do speak, and when I meet someone with an autistic loved one who is nonverbal, my voice is enough to remind them that everyone grows and develops at their own pace, and those who are autistic are no exception.
Though I am not overly prone to having angry outbursts, people know to stay on my good side when they learn of the diagnosis. This can be a plus for me.
When it comes to negative stereotypes, such as autistic people being aggressive, mute, or unable to learn, this unfortunately comes with the territory. It's always safer to fight the devil we can see.
During one speech I gave about my diagnosis years ago, my aunt overheard a few ladies doubting my diagnosis because "autistic people can't talk." To be sure, some autistic individuals do struggle with verbal expression. Of course, these ladies made their judgment based on information they received about autism in their day, and the result was to fall back on a stereotype.
It's not unusual for a misunderstanding to arise when my autism filters into the equation.
When "Grady" becomes "Grady the Autistic," people's attitudes indeed change, as does their approach. I've had duties taken away to make it "easier" while also having my needs "catered to." Life may become easier in these cases, but as a result of low expectations, I don't grow personally or professionally.
At the same time, I find that positive stereotypes often hurt the worst.
When I was younger, the Rain Man effect left many adults assuming that I was a mathematical or literary genius. Although I would one day blossom in my endeavors, my shortcomings were often dismissed or even lambasted as "laziness" or, at worst, behavioral "red flags."
You read that right.
What could have worked better is acknowledging that I, like Rain Man, was indeed a human with strengths and weaknesses. While I had strengths that could give me an advantage, I also had weaknesses that needed to be addressed more productively. Screaming or shaming, and frequent comparisons to Rain Man gave me nothing, but a comprehensive learning strategy would have made a significant difference.
Years later, after understanding the mechanical and strategic nature of math problems, I was overwhelmed with emotion after passing a math portion of the ASVAB for the military. I never enlisted, but a mere satisfactory score on a math exam was a victory I needed to experience after a lifetime of struggle.
Recently, I performed in a show where the character had a nervous tic laugh. Weeks in advance, I assembled a life story, ambitions, goals, and relationships for the character before working the laugh into his persona.
Regarding autistic people, each person has a character of their own. It is paramount that you focus on their individual personality and learning process, rather than pulling from what is depicted in media or online.
I, myself, am often considered a "slow learner.” This is another particular stereotype that some autistics face. This is because I am detail-oriented and need to know how every piece fits into the puzzle.
At my current job as a bank teller, the environment allows me to learn step-by-step procedures at a pace that works for me. From there, I can pick up speed and become more efficient with the task at hand. This is a far cry from my younger days when I was expected to master tasks because of my "autistic" learning process. Thankfully, enough time has passed that I've been able to find out what works for me, as have others.
As always, I cannot stress enough that what works for one may not work for another. It takes time and diligence to understand every individual's habits and patterns before coming up with a game plan.
Some flourish in fields of study and work, while others flounder and become hard examples of what not to do. I've been in both realms myself, and I continue to develop on my end, day by day.
Before Rain Man, one particular film that explored autism was Change of Habit starring Elvis Presley and Mary Tyler Moore (2). The film tackled two individuals who "cured" an autistic girl by showering her with tons of physical affection. This was based on now disproven ideas about autism being caused by a lack of affection in infancy or early childhood.
Years later, my mom was asked whether or not she ever gave me an ounce of affection as a baby. She easily rendered a perturbed, "Yes," and I can attest to that, being quite the mama's boy for most of my childhood.
For their worth, films such as Change of Habit and Rain Man offer historical benchmarks when exploring the phenomena of autism. What was seemingly a sign of deprived love became a neurological complexity. For what they offer, these films, and other depictions of autism, offer benchmarks in how far we've come in understanding the autistic mindset. They've produced their respective stereotypes, yes, but it falls on the viewer to do the hard research or fall back on a trope.
Fortunately, today's mass media and other autism awareness platforms produce more defined versions of autistic characters. The film Adam presents a very relatable character on the spectrum, while the television show South Park (adults only here, folks), presents Butter Scotch, an adorable walk-on character who was later revealed to have Asperger’s.
What sets these characters apart from any stereotypical depiction is that they remind us of how human they are, and humans are prone to making mistakes and sometimes outright bad decisions. Rather than falling back on the stereotype ("Oh, they are autistic, they can't help it"), one must explore the individual behind the quirk and progress from there ("Oh, they are autistic. Let's see how we can help.")
Ultimately, it boils down to having a stable environment and a team, family, or unit that helps an autistic individual develop and flourish. Once the team, family, or unit understands the individual's learning process, and once the individual is in an environment where they can learn (and maybe even teach), stereotypes can be broken. Seeing each person as an individual, rather than as a stereotype, is crucial to finding what strategies will work in supporting that person to their full potential.
We hope you enjoyed the information in this article. STAGES® Learning also offers free downloadable resources to support teaching and learning with autistic individuals. Start with our free Picture Noun Cards and see our collection of other downloadable resources here!