Who I Stand With and Why

We’ve all been watching the news from the USA, many of us with mounting horror and dread. It’s just one horrible thing after another. The worst kind of people gaining power and control. The wholesale wrecking of government departments and sacking of even essential staff. The demolishing of legal rights and protections for and attacks on the most vulnerable, the erosion of human rights, the muzzling of the press… And on and on it goes. It’s scary stuff, especially for those into history. There’s an onslaught of enmity directed at anyone who doesn’t fit into the cis, straight, white, male, middle- or upper-class, born-in-the-USA conservative Christian mould - even conservative Christian women now, which is surprising no-one but those women themselves.

The most important question is not ‘what will THEY do next’, because we can all guess, even if only by looking at history. (Concentration camps, anyone?) The Big Question is, how much and for long will the American people put up with it, before they rise up in rebellion? When (not if, but when) that will happen, what form it will take, how successful it will be, what the end result will be, is anyone’s guess. The only sure thing is that it can’t go on like this.

The new ‘rulers’ are of course presuming on shock and awe to keep everyone under their thumb. But I think they underestimate people. Even Americans, who, let’s face it, have had their education system run down, their rights steadily eroded, their economy tanked - FOR DECADES - and who have been indoctrinated into believing that ‘Murrka is the Greatest Country on Earth’, are not going to take it forever. Or even for that much longer. And of course the targeted groups are probably going to play a pivotal role in leading the resistance, because they have to. Because it’s THEIR lives at stake.

To be sure, many of those in the most vulnerable categories are feeling terrified and helpless. Some are leaving or planning to leave the worst states or even the country. (And let’s be clear, you’re not a coward if you can and do flee. Some are more vulnerable than others, or lack the capacity to fight.) Others are trying to help them get to ‘sanctuary’ states, though how long they will be able to keep gays, trans people, immigrants, women who want abortions etc, safe, is yet another good question. People are right to be scared. But sooner or later, if you’re pushed to the wall, you have to push back, if only because you’re not able to either flee or hide. I think it’s already begun to happen. And let me note here that street demonstrations and court decisions are only the beginning, not the end, of the resistance. I mean, I’d be relieved if they were effective, but I’m not holding my breath. Because Trumpet and his cronies have nothing but contempt for courts, laws, government departments and even their own voters.

I want to make it plain that at least part of my support for these groups is because I identify with those in danger. I’m acutely aware that if I was a US citizen or resident right now, I’d be in danger too. I’m gay, non-binary, autistic and almost certainly ADHD as well, I have multiple physical disabilities and health conditions, including CFS, arthritis, thyroid issues, high cholesterol and diabetes. I am on (government paid-for) medication for the last three of those. I’ve also been poor all my adult life, am dependent on NZ superannuation (i.e. the old age pension), and live in social housing. I’d be a target, for sure, so I really, REALLY feel for all my counterparts in the States.

But it’s more than that. It’s a matter of simple human decency. How anyone thinks it’s okay to attack people who love their own gender, identify as a gender that doesn’t match the body they were born with, are of a different race or religion (or none), fled persecution or poverty in another country to find a better life for themselves and their family, etc, etc, is beyond me. I simply don’t understand this level of cruelty. If I had been alive in 1930s Germany, you can bet I would have been opposing the Nazis, and I’m opposing them now. You’re either on the side of human decency, compassion and justice, or you’re not. End of.

Because of this, I’m not going to waste time pleading for Those In Power to spare my American counterparts. Things have gone way beyond that. I’m not able to do a lot from this distance, but I will certainly do what I can, most especially not allowing myself to be silenced. I don’t know if Big Brother is reading this. Maybe, maybe not. Either way, Big Brother? Go fornicate with Yourself.

Some would say, ‘oh, it’s easy for you to say all this, you don’t live in the States, you’re safe’. But we’re all fooling ourselves if we think the Orange One’s influence stops at the shores of the US. He has already made territorial threats against Canada, Greenland and Panama. He’s blatantly sided with Russia, and publicly attacked Ukraine’s courageous leader to his face. He’s demanded insane things of other countries, or sent his VP to verbally attack them. And that’s all just in less than two months. Not to mention that NONE OF US ARE TOTALLY SAFE if he triggers World War Three. A second American Civil War would affect people way beyond America’s shores. Tariffs or the collapse of American share markets, businesses or banks can also affect the whole world. So no, I don’t think we are going to be totally safe wherever we are.

Not that I’m deluding myself that they’ll come after me personally, I’m not important enough. Nor am I planning (or able, or even wanting) to visit the US any time soon, and New Zealand is not considered an ‘enemy’ of the US, right? ...Right? And Trumpet has really respected America’s traditional allies …right? But he wouldn’t interfere with another country’s citizens… right? Right?

 Truthfully though, I’m more concerned right now about the encouragement he gives to the worst kinds of people everywhere. A member of the coalition government here has proposed a bill to get rid of all DEI laws and regulations. It has little chance of success… so far. Who can say what the future holds.

 But ultimately it doesn’t matter. On the deepest level, I simply do not care. So Big Brother, if you do wanna come after me, all I can say is - bring it. I know who my people are, and who I stand with. And it’s not those currently calling the shots across the other side of the Pacific.

On Being Both Autie and Addie

As those of you who follow me on the Book of Faces know, for some time now I have become more and more certain that I am not only autistic, but ADHD as well. It’s true that some things like sensory overload and the ability to hyperfocus can be common to both conditions, as is my quite atrocious Executive Dysfunction. But that doesn’t explain things a lot of other things I’ve noticed about myself.

 I used to think it wasn’t possible to be both, and a test or two I did initially suggested that I wasn’t. But then I found better tests, and some uncannily accurate videos, and began to think and explore more. And now? I’m fairly certain, and becoming more so the more I explore. I call it being both ‘Autie’ and ‘Addie’.

Among the things I’ve noticed so far – and there will probably be more, as this journey is really only just starting –

- my erratic attention span and high distractibility, leading to ‘daydreaming’

- my frequent restlessness, both physical and mental

- quick frustration or boredom, with people, conversations, tasks and even jobs

- my need for stimulation and variety interspersed with periods of rest

- difficulty following verbal instructions

- chronic disorganisation, with major panic if (when!) I lose something important

- difficulty with time-keeping/awareness

- impulsiveness, ‘snap’ (and often disastrous) decision-making

- frequent job-hopping in my younger years and changing my major at university several times…

you get the picture.

And yes, I have the classic DOOM piles (or boxes, or bags, or overflowing drawers or cupboards…) even though my flat is way too small to accommodate much clutter. Like the two big boxes of stuff that need to go into my underbed storage which have been clogging up my tiny living area for WAY too long… Or the mountains of clean laundry that sometimes go unfolded and put away for days… Or the books piled up ON TOP of the bookshelves because I keep acquiring more but have nowhere to put them... And I’m not even going to talk about the dishes. Let’s just say they’re not my strong point.

So, yeah. Quite a bit of Addie stuff going on here.

In my earlier years, before I even knew I was Autie let alone Addie, life was …pretty chaotic. Not just in terms of actual mess or disorganisation - and there was plenty of that! - but in terms of the emotional cost. Depression, self-hatred, shame and self-blame, constantly telling myself how worthless, useless and stupid I was, over and over. With tears running down my face, I would be convinced I was a waste of space and should just do away with myself. I managed to overcome some of this when I discovered my autism and the autistic community, but there’s always been another layer, and now I know what it is.

So how does being both work in practise? (And bear in mind, this understanding is still a work in progress, as more light gets shone on my life.)

Sometimes, they help each other out. For instance, if I have something important to go to the next day, my Autie self will see me prepare everything I need the previous night. Or if I’m going on holiday, the Autie self will start making a list days prior, and ironing, folding and packing the day before. Because I KNOW that if I don’t, my Addie self will panic and run amok at the last minute, forgetting things, being late, and arriving in a highly distressed state, if I arrive at all.

On the other hand, my Addie self gives my rather stodgy, rule-bound Autie self a lift, pushing me out the door or into doing something different – the novelty/stimulation thing, without which I’d be trapped into a very boring life indeed. It’s seen me move around the country, launch into new activities, go out to events I probably wouldn’t otherwise, and generally take risks my Autie self quails or quibbles at.

But frequently the two are just in conflict. My need for stimulation and variety clashes with the need for order and calm. My Autie perfectionism battles with Addie impatience. My Autie needs for tidiness and keeping stuff runs up against my Addie desire to just throw the annoying stuff out the window or into the rubbish. My Autie wish for cleanliness is confronted by my Addie inability to focus on household tasks until they’re done. My Autie self has evolved more-or-less functional routines that get at least some essentials done, but Addie self (or tired self) sometimes rebels against them. Sometimes I can find a way out of these impasses, but other times there’s no winning. I can end up frozen, confused, and overwhelmed, not knowing what to do.

Sometimes I don’t even know which is affecting me in any given moment. If I can’t seem to get out of my chair, is it Autie inertia, Addie paralysis, or simple tiredness? (Having Chronic Fatigue Syndrome doesn’t help.) If I don’t start a task, is it because of Autie perfectionism, or Addie dislike of chores, or my Executive Dysfunction? Sometimes if I know, I can overcome it, and other times it just doesn’t matter. I’m screwed, any which way.

And yet still other times, they converge with each other in the worst ways, eg when both my Autie and Addie selves become so overloaded that all I want to do is curl up in some safe, dark, quiet cocoon until my jangled nerves stop screaming.

There are ways they nullify each other’s effects, like the Autie orderliness I mentioned above that prevents Addie panic. But while my Autie self has helped me to overcome or prevent a lot of typical Addie problems, for instance I use a lot of helpful ‘tricks’ – multiple alarms, to-do lists, lists, notes, visualisations, etc, etc, etc, to stay organised - overall, it ain’t easy being both.

Being Addie is possibly having a stronger effect on my life right now than being Autie, because the realisation is far newer and to the forefront of my mind, not to mention I’m gradually stopping all the ways in which I suppressed it (I did the same thing with my autistic traits when I first realised I’m Autie). You have to adjust to a new knowledge of yourself, re-evaluate your mindset/approach to life, and I’ve largely done this around being Autie. But not for Addie, not yet. I don’t have a formal diagnosis either, it’s expensive and there are long waiting lists, especially for adults. So it’s still a work in progress.

But I’m getting there. And my life makes so much more sense now. Perhaps, finally, I can stop being ashamed of simply being me.

That Aspie Label And How I Feel About It

When I first became part of the autistic community many of us identified with the label Aspergers Syndrome, and called ourselves ‘Aspies’. So much so that when the Powers That Be decided to delete it as a separate diagnosis many of us protested this. Gradually however most of us began to understand why it was no longer a viable diagnosis, and later still, many autistic advocates became vehemently opposed to the use of it.

My personal feeling is to no longer use it for myself. There are three main reasons for this.

1) The history around Hans Asperger. I haven’t been able to find out definitively whether he was an outright Nazi, a more-or-less reluctant collaborator, or just trying to save as many as he could from the Nazi ‘final solution’. He must, at the very least, have known what the Nazis were doing to the more obviously disabled, but how much could he have prevented this? How many could he have saved, how many did he save? I admit, I haven’t done much research for myself and opinion seems to be divided, even amongst autistics. But whatever the truth, he’s a controversial figure, and I’d rather stay away from any label that identifies me with him.

2) The whole ‘Aspie Supremacy’ thing. Basically, there is a subset of ‘Aspies’ who believe that Aspies are superior not just to other autistics, but to the rest of humanity. They tend to hide themselves away in small, closed groups online, and not come out to play much, but their underlying philosophy is still present. I can understand their fear of being associated with the most powerless, abused and degraded amongst us, but they are not doing anyone any favours with their elitist attitude.

3) (The most important reason) There really, really AREN’T any big differences between those who used to/still do label themselves ‘aspie’ and the so-called ‘real autistics’. It’s simply a way for the ‘experts’ and ‘martyr mommy’ types to divide and conquer. To excuse, on the one hand, their treatment of the more ‘obviously disabled’ among us, while wielding a stick over the rest of us autistics - ‘don’t group yourselves with them, or we’ll treat you like we do them’. But truthfully, attempts to find a clear difference have all floundered in the face of the complexities of autistic presentation, and our ability to progress and change, even when people don’t think we can. There isn’t a truly clear line between ‘severe’ and ‘mild’ autism. All the criteria basically amount to ‘how well can you mask and present as “normal”?’

So there’s that. HOWEVER – and it’s a big HOWEVER – I refuse to criticise, reject, put down, exclude or otherwise attack anyone who DOES still describe themselves as ‘Aspie’. They may have multiple, and perfectly valid, reasons for this. And frankly those reasons, or what labels they use are none of my business. (I’ve also noticed that some tend to go back and forth between the two terms, even when describing themselves.) I’ll tell anyone who asks why I don’t use the terms, but I won’t insist on them following my lead. To be honest, I think those pesky ‘functioning’ labels are a far bigger problem, as they can do real harm.

A big part of my adopting this approach has been my move away from the more strident autistic activists, the nit-picking purists who seem to have no tolerance for anyone who doesn’t follow what they have decided is The Only And Perfect Way to be autistic, and who will vehemently attack anyone they decide is The Enemy based on this True Way. I’ve encountered people like this before in various social movements, and find them tiring. ‘Drama queens’ is yet another good description of them, as they seem to relish the attacks and the consequent drama. I always end up dropping away from them.

Moreover, I’ve seen the results of their attitude. For instance, I’ve seen them attack one activist who refused to stop using the term aspie. Their attack was so vicious and prolonged that the activist in question eventually left the autistic community altogether… and eventually joined forces with an autistic organisation in their own country with a very dubious record – not quite A$, but not far off it. So they literally drove an otherwise good autistic activist into the arms of the opposition. Literally.

So no, I have chosen for myself, but I refuse to criticise anyone else for their choice. Because it is THEIR choice. And that’s good enough for me.

Privilege, Prejudice and My Life

Since I was a child, I’ve been keenly aware of injustice and inequalities. While I’m sure that a big reason for that is being autistic, I think another part is that I’m different from ‘The Normal Human’ of the Western world - the white, middle-class, cishetero, able-bodied, neurotypical male, against which everyone else is seen as lacking or inferior or just unworthy even of notice. I just don’t fit into that ‘normal’ in so many ways, and I’ve always known it, even before I could label it. The list of ‘othering’ factors I experience is long.

Some would assume woman is on that list, but although I was born with a female body, and certainly have experienced sexism, I’ve never identified as a girl or woman or even female. It just wasn’t me, but it took me a long time to define that I’m not actually either gender in my inner self/identity. There are different labels for this, but I feel non-binary best describes me. But of course it marks me out as different from Normal Man too, in a different and even more marginalising way.

Despite this, or maybe even because of it, I am definitely a feminist. Even as a child, I remember protesting the privileges that the males in my family had, though everyone looked at me like I had lost my mind. When I eventually discovered feminism, it felt tailor-made for me. I threw myself into trying to be a ‘right-on’ feminist, to fit in to the required appearance, behaviour, image. It was a long while before I realised so much of it was just another set of expectations to trap me in. Now, though I still agree with the central tenets of feminism, I have found my own way to be ‘liberated’.

Along with feminism I discovered, or rather re-discovered, my sexuality. I called myself lesbian for years, but truthfully, I’ve never liked the word. These days I call myself gay, it doesn’t feel totally right either, but I’ve yet to find a better one. But whatever I call myself, I never felt accepted by the lesbian community any more than I had been anywhere else. I just didn’t, and don’t, fit the mold here either. Being ignored, snubbed, overlooked, excluded etc, got tiresome. So eventually I quietly dropped out of the lesbian community. I doubt I was missed.

Through feminism and attending university, I also came to a consciousness of class. By associating with middle-class people, I realised that I’m not. If you think I should have realised that before, you’re probably right. But it truthfully never occurred to me. I thought class was something that only happened in the UK, us New Zealanders tend to believe ‘we’re all equal’. I soon learnt otherwise, and for a long time I blamed the struggles I was having on classism.

Meanwhile of course I developed physical disabilities. The first of course was CFS, or ME as some call it. I’ve had this for forty years now, and it’s been devastating in its effect on my life. More recently, I’ve developed arthritis, diabetes, low thyroid, a crapped-out ankle, acid reflux and probable IBS. Other problems come and go. There are so many things I can’t do, can’t participate in, together they all thrust me to the margins of the able-bodied world.

And while I was acquiring these physical disabilities, I realised that I’m autistic too. And that I have sensory processing disorder, executive dysfunction, alexithymia and auditory processing disorder with it. The list of ‘conditions’ I have just grew and grew, and the sense of being a ‘marginal person’ just grew and grew with it…

There are of course a few areas in which I could be said to be privileged or ‘Normal’ of course. I grew up in and live in a Western country. I got to university, even if it wasn’t till I was 26 and a ruined health meant I never completed it and likely never will.

Religion? Well I suppose I was nominally Christian in my younger years, but religious differences between my parents meant that it wasn’t exactly pushed on us, and I grew out of it eventually. Since then I’ve gone through the women’s spirituality movement, the New Age movement, a semi-demi-cult and now… nothing. Agnostic probably describes me the best, if I must use a word. Perhaps it’s a privilege in itself, to be able to openly describe myself this way, and reject religion, a prerogative that many in other countries don’t have.

But here’s a funny thing – the one area in which I don’t experience oppression or being ‘different’/in the minority is the one that has often concerned me the most, and which I have probably done the most activism in. And by this I mean race.

I’ve had an awareness of racism since I was a child, possibly even before I was aware of sexism. It’s important to note that I was a post-war child, yes (I sigh), a boomer. But what this meant was that World War Two and the Holocaust were recent collective memory. I didn’t actually meet any Jewish people till later, but I remember becoming aware of how if someone was mean or tight-fisted, people would say ‘don’t be Jewish!’ I made a conscious decision not to use that term ever again. Yes, as a child. Call me precocious.

At some point after that, when us kids were playing ‘Cowboys and Indians’, I found myself wondering why the Indians were always The Bad Guys. I can’t remember if I tried to change the rules or suggested a different game, or maybe we just grew out of it, but at some point we did stop playing it. I don’t know if any of the younger generation still do.

It must have been somewhere in my teens that I first heard of South Africa’s apartheid regime, and was instantly opposed to it. I just knew in my bones it was wrong, and the more I learnt, the more that feeling was confirmed. About ten years later came the Springbok Tour of 1981, which of course was seen by many as the NZ Rugby Union supporting the apartheid regime. Like many Kiwis, to me rugby is The Game, but that made the shock of the Tour only worse. I could not believe that anyone would invite those oppressors to my country, and willingly joined the protests against it.

It was during these protests I became aware of racism here, thanks to Māori activists. That’s not to say it had totally escaped my awareness, but it hadn’t been thrust in my face before that. Along with many other white people, I joined the anti-racism movement, spending more time and energy in it than feminist activities. This lasted several years until health issues meant I dropped out of all political activism. But I’ve continued to see my own racism as something to work on, root out of my subconscious, and I do my best to challenge other white people’s racism too, when I can. It’s an ongoing thing.

I’m conscious of my racial privilege. I know that I can walk around a department store without having staff follow me in the assumption that I’m going to shoplift. I can walk down a street in Remuera (Auckland’s swankiest suburb) and not have people assume that I’m there either to clean a house or rob it. And that’s just the surface stuff – my culture, language or ancestral lands are not under threat of being wiped out, destroyed, suppressed or stolen. I’m not likely to be harassed or beaten up by cops or ‘profiled’ on account of my race. And so on.

The thing that puzzles me though is why for so much of my life, I have so often been more concerned with racial issues than the areas in which I am one of the underdogs? Is it because I have so little privilege in other areas I am more aware of the things I don’t have to experience?

I’m really not sure.

Anyhow, I just wonder if anyone else has a similar story to tell. What are YOUR privileges? What are the issues that have concerned you the most, through the course of your life? Are they the ones you suffer from, or the very ones you don’t? We autistics usually have a keen sense of justice, but where has your focus been?

Thoughts on Moving Back to Auckland

I recently moved back to Auckland, the city I grew up in, after about 35 years away. Obviously, lots of things have changed.

I’ve changed, for one. I left the city as a naive thirty-something, still hopeful of a happy future despite having already experienced poverty, a string of romantic, social and friendship failures and some health problems. I’ve returned older, grumpier, way more cynical and with way worse health problems. Much of the middle years have been disastrous, with more poverty and more failures including that relationship, and much moving around the country from rural to small town to larger town locations, before finally realising that my heart was really still back in the city. Along the way, I’ve learned a lot, including way more self-awareness and how to stand up for myself.

So I’m different. But the city is also different. I didn’t expect it not to be of course, I have visited plenty of times over the years. Visiting is not quite the same as living in a place though, and the changes have really struck me now I’m here.

There are three things in particular that are noticeable. The first is housing. Starkly modern skinny townhouses jutting two or three stories into the sky are crammed in next to the tired old bungalows of the 50s, 60s and 70s, and even the occasional abandoned house. The mix of people living in them reflects this contrast.

Because the second thing I’ve noticed is the far greater diversity of peoples in Auckland now. There were always some non-white people here even when I was growing up, mainly Māori, Pacific Islanders, Chinese and Indian (from India I mean, not Native Americans). But now there’s a far bigger panorama. Don’t get me wrong, I’m fascinated by this, not appalled! They add so much to the city, including to the selection of foods available. (Yum!)

Simply for fun, I find myself often playing the game of ‘what language are they speaking/what nationality are they’. A few weeks ago, I heard people speaking what sounded like Spanish near my home. Spanish! In West Auckland! This would have been considered bizarre when I was growing up, but I was enthralled. (They were probably South American immigrants, of which there are quite a few in New Zealand.)

The third thing, which I kind of knew but had to be reminded of, is though officially Auckland is ‘The City of Sails’, it should really be called the City of Cars. Basically, you need a vehicle to get anywhere except your local shops. (I haven’t braved public transport yet.) As far as West Auckland goes, a lot of this goes back to the suburban ‘wastelands’ built out here in the decades after the war.

In the mid-70s, my then-husband and I looked at building a house out on what was then the edge of the city. We couldn’t afford it in the end, but what struck me was just how isolated these housing subdivisions were. There was literally nothing out there but the houses plonked down in the landscape, some footpaths, and the roads themselves. You were considered wealthy if you had a driveway or a fence. There were no parks, libraries, shopping centres, medical or community facilities, few buses except for morning and afternoon commuters. It was just… empty. So people made their own amusements, and acquired cars, because how else were you to get anywhere? I think this was the beginning of the classic ‘Westie’ culture (think like the Aussie ‘bogans’, I’m sure every country has its equivalent). My generation of Young Things were I guess ‘proto-Westies’.

Something similar must have been happening in the rest of Auckland, because now the city is choked with cars. And it’s built for them too, even the newest parts. There are footpaths around the city’s vast shopping malls and centres, but they’re still obviously arranged around the needs of cars and their occupants. And despite various efforts by central and local government to encourage public transport, I don’t think that’s going to change any time soon.

So here I am, adjusting to this, after over 20 years in a town I could walk at least halfway across on a good day. Never mind. The tediousness of motorways are far outweighed by the new and fascinating – there are whole parts of the city that didn’t even exist when I lived here last, even much of the old has changed almost beyond recognition. I’m enjoying exploring all this and (re-)acquainting myself with old and new.

And the annoyances are just little things, like I’m still trying to find somewhere nearby where I can buy all of the supplements I need, rather than having to go several different places, and I still haven’t found a good (and inexpensive) unisex haircutter yet. The gender division is hard around here, very masculine men’s barbers and women’s hairdressers which reek of perming lotion (which makes me ill). Um, no thanks.

So yeah, little problems, some adjustments, but overall, I’m glad to be back. Home has changed, but so have I. It’s still Home.