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?

I Don't Fit Into This World

I don’t fit into this world. I never have, in so many ways.

Being autistic is of course a biggie. There’s the constant everyday jarring against the world, the sensory challenges, the social challenges, the practical challenges, especially if like me you also have executive dysfunction. It’s feeling like a square peg in a round-holed world. A world that doesn’t want me, and would sooner I didn’t exist.

But in turn I don’t value much of it either. I look at the hypocrisy, distorted attitudes, closed minds, hatred, injustices, oppression, prejudices and ‘isms’ everywhere, and I wonder how those people live with themselves. I look at the mess the world is in, and wonder if and when it’s going to all come crashing down. Environment-wise, I see that starting to happen already. I don’t have a lot of hope for the future, to be honest.

Being gay of course is yet another way I ‘don’t fit’ in. It’s more accepted now than it was, but there’s still the assumption that you’re straight unless you say otherwise. Even where there isn’t prejudice, we’re still in a tiny minority, out of synch with a relentlessly hetero world. And as an autistic, I never felt ‘in synch’ with other lesbians anyway. I have very little interaction with the lesbian community now. So I feel like I’m kind of out here on my own.

Then there’s being non-binary, and the pressure to ‘fit your gender’. My mother was a wonderful person, but to the day she died, she couldn’t grasp that I didn’t want to look or be ‘feminine’. Many others are the same. There is this expectation that you’re male or female, and sometimes desperate attempts to have you fit in to this binary, so they can treat you accordingly. But I don’t, and don’t want to either.

I’m also aromantic. When I finally stopped putting pressure on myself to enter into relationships, it was a huge relief. But most people seem to think that an intimate relationship is the only way to ‘happiness’ and ‘fulfilment’. I never found that. One of the few good parts about getting older is that people stop trying to match you up with others. I’m seen as ‘just another old person living alone’, rather than a pathetic loser who can’t get someone to love them.

Poverty is another way not to fit in. When you just can’t afford so much of what others have, the standard of living they assume as ‘normal’, you do feel out of it. This wasn’t how I assumed my life would go when I was younger. I don’t come from wealth or even the middle class, but there was an expectation of working hard, scrimping and saving, buying a modest house in the burbs, and Getting Ahead. It never happened. And it’s extremely unlikely it ever will. I’m out here on the margins, and it’s where I expect to stay.

Then there’s how I’m a thorough introvert in a very extrovert-dominated world. ‘Come out of your shell!’ ‘Why aren’t you talking?’ ‘You need to make more friends!’ And so on. How about just some peace and quiet? Is that really so much to ask? Other introverts will know of what I speak.

On top of these, there’s my various physical disabilities and illnesses, my CFS, arthritis, diabetes, wonky ankle, low thyroid… Whether I’ve had them for decades or acquired them more recently, they still serve to separate me from others.

These are the Big Things, but there are so many small ways I don’t fit in. Take drinks, for example. I’ve never liked coffee or tea, herb teas upset my stomach, and I’ve even given up coffee substitutes. Rest assured, I get plenty of fluids. But visiting people, I invariably get asked ‘would you like tea or coffee?’ As though these are the only possible choices. When I decline, they’re like ‘oh…. so... what do you drink then? Herb tea?’ They’re always puzzled when I say I prefer a nice cold water. (I don’t drink alcohol either.)

And take how I’m wanting to move back to the city, after many years away from it. There were reasons for leaving it, and good reasons to go back. But so many are wanting to move out of cities, it’s become almost a fashionable thing. I have news for them - the country isn’t as quiet as you’d think, and small town people aren’t always as friendly as city folks assume either. But the point here is that I am going against the tide. Again. 

And talking of housing, I’m also not into the current ‘tiny house’ thing. After decades of living in cramped spaces (poverty, remember?), I want more space, not less. I’m tired of things like having to edge sideways to get to the other side of my bed, or having to put away all my creative stuff in order to eat. Even exercise is problematic when there just isn’t enough ROOM. Enough. I want room to move, to live how I want, to do what I want. And I’m not going to get that in a tiny house.

I’m struggling to think of ways I do ‘go with the flow’, fit into the majority, etc. Being white is the obvious one. But I’m too aware of racism for a lot of white people either (I was in the NZ anti-racism movement back in the 80s). It’s similar with being a ‘Westerner’, and knowing the effects of imperialism, colonialism, etc, which most white people would rather not look at or even acknowledge. I can’t sympathise or identify with others solely on the basis of my European ancestry, even as I acknowledge the white privilege that goes with it.

There is a cumulative effect of course from all these differences. Most TV programs, ads, etc, even much of everyday life, leaves me feeling alienated, on edge, cynical, tired and disgusted, with a kind of existential pain and unfocused anger that I try very much not to burden others with. It’s not their fault that I’m different, but sometimes I wish they’d extend the same courtesy to me.

I don’t fit in, I know that I don’t fit in, that I’m an outsider wherever I go. But this is me. I can’t be anything else than what I am, I just wish sometimes that I wasn’t always the different one, in almost every category of humanity. I still have things to do, and people I care about, so I’m committed to staying on the planet, but it’s a daily trial.

THEY DO IT BECAUSE THEY CAN

Like a lot of people, I’ve been watching the Black Lives Matter protests. What strikes me every time I see the clip of that cop kneeling on George Floyd’s neck, is how little he’s worried about being on camera. He’s watching the bystanders, sure, but only, it seems to me, to judge whether they’re a further threat. Being videoed kneeling on someone’s neck till he dies? Nope, not a worry.

Why? Because cops like him have done this, and worse, to many black or brown people in the past, and gotten away with it. And I bet that he’s not even that worried now, because even in the rare cases where charges are laid, cops usually get acquitted, or a minor punishment. He’ll be expecting the same. It’s not over yet, not by a long shot.

Because pretty much everything done ‘in the line of duty’ has been excused or overlooked by complicit police administrations, passive civil authorities, and a judicial system reluctant to believe any wrongdoing on the part of police, even when confronted with glaring evidence of it. And so they  assume they can get away with practically anything.

The signs are there, for anyone to read. There’s some kind of corruption of spirit – there’s no other way to describe it –  at the very heart of policing. They see themselves as ‘heroes’ fighting against ‘wrongdoers’, who can be pretty much anyone else. (But especially black and brown people, I believe.) The result, of course, is that police themselves have now become an enemy to many.

This ethos is so pervasive, it’s even in fiction. Watch any cop TV show or movie, read any detective novel, a cop will lie or beat up someone at some point. Or the heroes-against-the-world thing will pop up. ‘It’s hard being a cop, no-one else understands’. Etc, etc, etc. And bear in mind that these shows are usually sympathetic to the police. Yet even there, the corruption has become the almost-unremarked-upon norm. (And before anyone says it, yes, I can tell fiction from fact. My point is that it’s so widespread in fact, it’s permeated into fiction.)

A note here – I went on my fair share of protests and demonstrations, back in the day. I’ve seen cops insult or verbally abuse people, threaten violence, commit it, do various dirty tricks, and even lie in court. There was a time in my life when if I saw a cop in the street I’d want to vomit and run away. So even though I’m whiter-than-white, I’m not surprised at all the videos that have emerged in recent years, though I am angry. I back BLM two hundred percent.

However – though I’m not wanting to divert the spotlight away from the Black Lives Matter movement at all – that is NOT my intention here – it’s worth noting that there is a deeper problem, an underlying pattern, which is not limited to the interaction of cops with black and brown people.

I was reminded of this recently when watching a documentary on Harvey Weinstein, and how he preyed on women for years. And he’s only one of the many, many authority figures – religious leaders, politicians, sports coaches, psychotherapists, entertainment top-dogs, etc, etc, who have long targeted the young and vulnerable of both sexes. And then there’s the abuse or even murder of autistics and disabled, by those who are supposed to be caring for them. Or the (mis)treatment of psychiatric patients, or the homeless… the list goes on. Practically anyone ‘different’ or ‘powerless’ can be, and frequently has been, a target.

In all these cases, those doing this harm do it because they can.

Because they’ve gotten away with it over and over again, for years, decades, even centuries.

Because they were in a position of unquestioned, unassailable, and unchallenged authority.

Because their victims were perceived as ‘lesser than’, ‘defective’, and/or just plain unimportant, not even worthy of life in some cases.

Because those who could have stopped them did nothing, in fact chances were they’d done it themselves, and thus it was ‘business as usual’.

Because even if their transgressions came to light, and complaints were made, the word of the powerful was always taken over the complainants.

Because even if a complaint was upheld, the transgressions were seen as minor/unimportant, or their actions were ‘justifiable use of power’.  

Because their victims were silenced in various ways – through threats, coercion, money, or just being ignored or ridiculed.

So it was okay for cops to beat up or kill black people, or for them to harass or beat up homeless people and destroy or take their belongings (and heaven help those who are black and homeless), for entertainment moguls to put aspiring actresses through the ‘casting couch’ ordeal, for priests to molest children and then simply be moved on to another parish, for professionals to put autistics through various torturous processes to make them ‘normal’. And so on, and so on.

Because the victims weren’t, and often still aren’t, considered important. They’re ‘the other’, the ‘different’, the ‘lesser than’, not worthy of the same rights as ‘normal people’, and thus it doesn’t matter what happens to them. And in the case of some groups, such as black people and autistics (once again, heaven help those who are both these things), even a ‘threat’ of some kind which has to be obliterated. So that others of their ilk can be kept in line. Subservient. Uncomplaining. Knuckling under to the Powers That Be.

THEY DO IT BECAUSE THEY CAN.

This is an important point to remember. Because they can, and have, gotten away with it for a long, long, long time. This corruption isn’t only in the police, but at the core of every imbalance of power. It’s a sickness at the heart of a world where those with power simply assume they have the right to not only define ‘the other’, but to shape and control their very lives. Up to and including whether they even get to live or not.

But at a certain point, the oppressed have had enough. They see that nothing but their rebellion will stop it. And so they say ‘no more!’ Black Lives Matter says no more. The ‘Me Too’ movement says no more. Autistic Rights says no more. Social movements since the 50s and 60s – civil rights, feminism, gay liberation – say no more.

And that’s the whole point of these protests – that black people, along with their allies, have had more than enough. They’re saying that it’s way beyond time to make the oppressors get their foot, or their knee, off black necks. Literally and metaphorically. To end this sickness, and root out this corruption.

If you still don’t understand this, if you’re still into ‘all lives matter’, or going ‘well they shouldn’t riot’, then you have missed the point entirely, and you’re going to end up on the wrong side of history.