December 15, 2014

Self-knowledge and invisible identities

Posted in Uncategorized tagged , , , , , , at 5:10 pm by chavisory

This post actually started on Tumblr in a discussion of The Hunger Games and the various interpretations and identities that people project onto Katniss, and carried over into a question of how people of the demisexual/gray-ace spectrum can accurately perceive other people’s levels of sexual attraction and where they as individuals fall on that scale, which I wanted to expand on a little bit.

Obviously, we can’t ever know fully and objectively what is in another person’s head or internal experiences. So how can demi or gray-ace people know that we’re different, and that we aren’t just arbitrarily deciding that we’re different?

Conveniently, there is already a whole body of writing and experience from another population of people who have had the experience of knowing that they were different somehow, in frequently invisible, subjective ways, often in the complete absence of having been explicitly told so or possessing any language to describe how or why—indeed, often even in the face of other people relentlessly insisting on the contrary—and turning out to be right–

Most autistic people who were diagnosed later…say, after age 18…talk about having always or almost always known that they were different, whether or not they could effectively describe how they were different or how they knew.

A while back now on Tumblr, a parent who was considering the best way and time to talk to her kid about his diagnosis, asked the autism tag approximately when people knew somehow that we were different from our peers.  Not necessarily when we knew our diagnosis, but when we felt or knew we were different. Self-reports ranged from ages 3-10.

This is actually one of the earliest realizations about myself in relation to people around me of which I even have explicit memory (I was about 3).

But how can we really know that other people don’t (for the most part) share our sensory reactions, our cognitive differences, our difficulty with speech and language?

Well, we have pattern recognition. Most people don’t walk around acting or speaking as if they share those experiences on a pretty consistent, everyday basis.  Our reactions make sense to our experience of the world. Other people punish and shame and decide horrible and untrue things about us on the basis of those reactions. Disabled and neurodivergent advocates have amassed decades’ worth of writing, media, and activism at this point in an attempt to convince parents and professionals that we aren’t just broken, we’re operating in a hostile environment, and most of them still don’t believe us.

There is a burden of evidence, at some point, that becomes overwhelming, that other people are not experiencing the world like you do. Other people aren’t just hostile to the way we react to the world, they’re often baffled.

Unless I’m supposed to believe that the non-autistic 98% of the population has just happened to build a culture, educational system, and set of social and employment expectations that is just as torturous and awkward for them, but they’re all just pretending that it’s more or less tolerable and manageable?  And they overwhelmingly do this without ever being instructed to?  Or that somewhere between 1-2% of us simply missed out on this instruction?  And that most other people really do have the same level of difficulty and discomfort, but we’re the only ones not pretending otherwise, at devastating cost to ourselves?

(And yes, there are people who do go a very long time pretending that things aren’t that difficult for them.  The stress of which causes midlife burnouts.  If not young adult burnouts.  Which again, we don’t see masses of non-autistic people having.)

Likewise, there is a point at which the overwhelming amount of information available to me about how most people interact and live their lives, does not suggest that demisexual or ace spectrum people aren’t really having experiences fairly different from other people’s.

The alternative explanation I’m left with is that both autistic people, and demisexual/gray-ace people, are just the only ones being honest about our experiences, and everyone else is lying all the time, in such a way as to make the world really painful and difficult for themselves, and everyone knows that that’s true except us.

Which still would not explain the downright confusion and bafflement that I’ve gotten, not just in relationships but in health and sex-ed classes, from teachers, when the whole set of expectations from other people regarding sexual relationships does not match up to mine, in a “looking in a mirror and seeing nothing” kind of way.  I could imagine an entire set of societal and relationship expectations being built on a lie, and authority figures or romantic partners expressing displeasure when I defy expectations to uphold the lie, but not just confusion.

Are the vast majority of people just pretending to be deeply confused about how the interplay of emotion, physical comfort, and sexual attraction works for them?

Or when people go “Ha ha, you’re not different, you’re just like everyone else.  Everyone feels like [total distortion of what I even just described].”

You know how obnoxious it is when non-autistic parents go “We’re all a little autistic!  Everyone is on the spectrum!” Because no, they’re not.  I did not grow up feeling inhuman because 98% of the population is really just like me.

Likewise, I have a hard time buying that 98% or more of the human population is really just like me with regards to comfort and emotional needs in relation to sexuality, but are pretending not to be to the extent that I can’t even take part because it just doesn’t even make sense to my most basic physical experience.  And that really I’ve spent this long feeling this incompletely human and left out and lonely because I just didn’t realize that everyone else is lying really, really well about their most basic experiences of physicality and attraction?

You see how that strains credibility?

(I don’t actually think that’s true; I don’t think that badly of either non-autistic or non-demisexual people.)

Would you tell a gay person “No, you’re not really different, that’s really how everyone is.  How do you know that it isn’t?”

Demisexuality is a difference not necessarily in who you’re attracted to along the gender spectrum, but in how attraction works. In some way, shape or form, either a strong emotional bond has to precede sexual attraction, or emotional attraction is prerequisite to sexual attraction.

We walk around every single day of our lives, for decades on end, seeing and hearing messages that attraction works, or at least is supposed to, in a way that it actually doesn’t work for us.  You notice after a while.  You notice that you don’t feel and react in the ways that other people act like you’re supposed to.

Or, if everybody else is really lying in countless, tiny, casual, everyday ways about what attraction is like for them, and not only lying, but living out their lives as if something that isn’t true, is true…to the detriment of their own happiness, comfort, and quality of relationships, and that’s the only reason why people like me think we’re different….maybe they should stop.

Or else stop telling me that I can’t accurate perceive that what I’m experiencing is qualitatively different from what I’m being pretty consistently told that other people do.

Maybe then we’d also have an honest, accurate view of the true scope of human sexual and emotional diversity and no one would have to feel inhuman or alone or wind up thinking that they’re just not capable of having relationships.  But then what do I know?

June 26, 2013

Posted in Marginalization tagged , , , at 5:56 pm by chavisory

It’s my birthday today.  I’m 31.  Yikes.

And I had just finished breakfast this morning, in the kitchen of a friend I’m visiting, when we got the news, just after 10:00 AM, of the Supreme Court decision overturning the Defense of Marriage Act, and shortly thereafter, Proposition 8.

I remember being a teenager, sitting at my own kitchen table, at breakfast time, in the house where I grew up, reading the news about DOMA’s passage.  I wasn’t all that attentive to what went on in politics or the world at that time, I didn’t know things I do now about my own identity, and I didn’t think I knew any gay, trans, or queer people.  I still believed some things about sexuality and morality then that I don’t anymore and am not particularly proud of to look back on.

But I remember reading about it in the morning paper and being so sad.  Something about it just profoundly didn’t sit right with me.  I couldn’t think of another instance within my own lifetime in which a law had been passed for the deliberate and express purpose of depriving a specific group of people of rights or protections.  And based on very little except the perception by the majority that they were simply the wrong kind of people, or willfully deviant–a burden which I had always felt, though for different and at the time unnameable reasons.

And no matter what I felt about homosexuality, I couldn’t believe that that was right.

It was part of a long pattern, that I identified with the wrong people in the given narrative.

I honestly didn’t think it would be so soon–though of course it’s been more than long enough for a lot of people who have suffered under the consequences of this law–that I’d get to look back on that day with a bittersweet happiness.

The world does change when people persistently stand up for what is right.  We are capable of making the world kinder and fairer.

Remind people of this day, tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after, when they tell you any version of the lie that we can’t make the world safer by standing up for each other, or that it’s better to just keep your head down, fit in, and not speak up for justice or piss off anyone in authority, because the world never changes.  It’s people with a vested interest in the world never changing who keep telling that lie.

(Edit:  I hit publish on this, and then realized that I hadn’t come up with a title, but when I went back to edit one in, I thought that the date was kind of title enough.  DOMA:  1996-2013.  RIP.)

April 22, 2013

Just a thought

Posted in Uncategorized tagged , , , at 12:28 am by chavisory

I’ve heard it said often that the problem with the doctrine of reincarnation is that it encourages people to slack off about living life fully, giving the illusion that we have unlimited time to screw around or watch television.

From a common Christian point of view, the problem is the illusion that we have unlimited time to repent our sins and reconcile with God before we’re called to judgment.  That we can sin without limit or consequence because we’ll always have more time to get it right.

But I think it would mean something much, much better, if it were true in any way.

It would mean that all of the world’s greatest people, everyone we’ve loved, everyone who’s meant a great deal to us, everyone whose work has changed our lives…is still here with us.

But we can’t know who they are now.  They could be anyone and they could be anywhere.

And so every single chance you have to show goodness or kindness to another person, is a chance to show it to any person who’s ever lived and died.

Far from the idea of reincarnation being an excuse not to live life to the fullest, I think it’s an invitation to live as well as we can and show as much goodness as we can to everyone around us.

September 9, 2012

Let’s talk about sex (education)

Posted in Uncategorized tagged , , , , , , at 1:21 am by chavisory

So apparently school started again this past week, and (in)appropriately, I ran across this article on Salon.com (Americans Want Sex Ed), summarizing a report from the National Campaign to Prevent Teen and Unplanned Pregnancy.  The report presents the seemingly paradoxical findings that while a solid majority of both adults and teens in the United States believe that teenagers should be taught about birth control, and also that anti-abortion leaders should support the availability of birth control, and also that they (teens) themselves have the information they need to avoid unplanned pregnancy…a somewhat scarily large percentage of teens then go on to report knowing little to nothing of contraception methods.

But I suspect that the discrepancy obscures, at least in part, a disconnect between the fairly binary way in which we conceive of what “sex education” can and should be–either abstinence only or abstinence plus safety and contraception–and the nuances of students’ real lives, or how well what students are taught about contraception does or doesn’t match up with how they really need or want to be educated about sexual relationships.

If, for instance, you’re a 15-year-old lesbian, it may be true that you know what you need to about contraception at the moment even if that isn’t very much.  Or if you’ve genuinely decided to wait for sex–till marriage or just till you’re older–you might not be wrong that you don’t need to know everything about possible contraception methods right this minute.  Or if you’re on the asexuality spectrum and not seeking a sexual relationship…this information might not be taking up space on your hard drive, but you know where to find it if or when you want it…or if, like some students taking this survey, you’re 12 years old.

Or imagine how profoundly unhelpful a group role-playing game full of scare tactics about the dangers of promiscuity is to someone desperately trying to figure out how to have one good, safe, physical relationship.

It’s also easy to mistakenly think you know everything it’s possible to know, when what you don’t know is what you aren’t being taught.

I was, probably unsurprisingly, one of the kids who thought that I knew what I needed to know.  I’d been through fairly decent classes on what to expect from puberty.  I’d been given information on available contraception.  (In a totally brilliant move on my mother’s part, one day she had picked me up Seventeen magazine’s Environment Special Issue, which she said she thought I’d enjoy, environmental activism being my primary obsession at the time.  It also had Your Complete Guide to Contraception in the back of the issue.  It was years before I realized that handing that over had probably been deliberate and not an oversight on her part.)  I was a biology wonk and already knew more about disease transmission and risk than what was in the health class videos and graphic slide shows.

And, for reasons that turned out to be a good deal more complicated than I even thought they were at the time, I’d taken a stance that I was delaying sex…pretty much indefinitely.

In this state of affairs, I wound up, despite my protestations that the requirement was insulting, in my school’s “Health and Family Wellness” class.  In which I somehow managed to be continuously stigmatized for the very choices that the class purported to be encouraging, because the ways in which I’d made them did not comport with the core presumptions of What Teenagers Are Like or How Dating Works.  At the same time that I did indeed think I knew what I needed to, as far as what I saw available, I felt this gaping absence of anyone anywhere accurately describing how I actually experienced myself or my desires, and how to build a life or be safe and respected in those things.

Now I look back and know that I cannot have been the only one experiencing this, because people who were not represented as having sexual or romantic relationships worth talking about included gay people, queer people, trans people, disabled people…so also disabled queer people…any kind of gender fluid or gender variant people, people on the asexuality spectrum, or now that I try to think of it, very many people of color or of cultures other than Normal American Teenager.  Let alone any of those people having relationships with each other.

What worked for other people was clearly not going to work out for me, but there were no examples of what would.  Or of how to talk about what was true for you, if that wasn’t what was presumed to be the default.

There’s a quote from Adrienne Rich that I think of more and more often:  “When someone with the authority of a teacher, say, describes the world and you are not in it, there is a moment of psychic disequilibrium, as if you looked into a mirror and saw nothing.”

So…not getting pregnant was actually not my biggest problem.  The ways in which our school’s sex ed didn’t have much to offer me went way deeper than “I already know all about contraception, this is a waste of my time, and I’d rather be taking art.”  But that was all I was able to express—in no small part because of the poverty of education or language available about relationships, sex, and gender that went beyond the very superficial.  And so I sat in class day after day, feeling more and more alienated from my peers and from how adults presumed I should be treated based on the fact that I was 15 and not much else, being told by unqualified teachers “I’m sorry you think you’re too good to be here,” rolling my eyes at badly produced educational videos, and learning most of what I really knew about love and respect from Mulder and Scully at home alone on Friday nights.  (And I’m not the only person I know who says that I learned what love was supposed to be from those characters.)

How would I have answered a survey question “Do you feel that you have all the information you need to prevent an unplanned pregnancy at this time?”  Yes.  But it would’ve been a stand-in answer for the fact that the question didn’t address anything real in my life.

I can well imagine that if you go to a school in which the name of your sexual identity is literally a bad word (“Don’t say gay” bills have been introduced in both Missouri and Tennessee), or a subject that faculty feel forbidden to address, up to and including when you’re being violently victimized for it, that you might reasonably feel that your ability to name risks and benefits of five different kinds of contraception is a little bit beside the point.

It isn’t that we shouldn’t teach comprehensive information about birth control, obviously, or work to ascertain whether kids feel they have the information they need about it, but I think in the common conception of what sex education is, this is widely thought of as the ultimate question: whether to teach abstinence only, or whether to teach risk management methods.  But even the seemingly right answer to that question is misleading and even counterproductive when contraception as risk management is taught without a bedrock of positive and healthy attitudes about sex, real-life examples of all types of healthy sexual and romantic relationships, a vocabulary to describe what’s true and desirable for yourself individually, and knowledge and respect for your own sexual identity and those different from you.

Without that kind of knowledge, which should be basic and not controversial, I suspect it may be hard for students to draw easy conclusions about whether the health information they have matches up to the realities of their lives.

February 29, 2012

If I only had a heart.

Posted in Reflections tagged , , , , , at 3:07 am by chavisory

The whole time I was watching this:


Moriarty: If you don’t stop prying, I will burn you. I will burn the heart out of you.
Sherlock: I have been reliably informed that I don’t have one.


Moriarty: But we both know that’s not quite true.

…I was thinking of this:


The Tin Woodman knew very well he had no heart, and therefore he took great care never to be cruel or unkind to anything.  “You people with hearts,” he said, “have something to guide you, and need never do wrong; but I have no heart
, and so I must be very careful….”

***

Now would you like to see something incredibly eerie…?


Wizard of Oz: As for you, my galvanized friend, you want a heart. You don’t know how lucky you are not to have one. Hearts will never be practical until they can be made unbreakable.


Mycroft Holmes: All lives end.  All hearts are broken.  Caring is not an advantage.

***

How often do the people we say have no hearts, in fact have the greatest ones?

Who are the people who tell us that they’re not worth having?

August 5, 2011

All you have to do

Posted in Reality, Reflections, Uncategorized tagged , , , at 11:42 pm by chavisory

I am in love with this passage I came across from Sugar, who is consequently my new favorite advice columnist.  She writes in The Rumpus.

“You don’t have to get a job that makes others feel comfortable about what they perceive as your success. You don’t have to explain what you plan to do with your life. You don’t have to justify your education by demonstrating its financial rewards. You don’t have to maintain an impeccable credit score. Anyone who expects you to do any of those things has no sense of history or economics or science or the arts.

You have to pay your own electric bill. You have to be kind. You have to give it all you got. You have to find people who love you truly and love them back with the same truth.

But that’s all.”