Awhile back, I was listening to NPR and there was an interview between an autistic reporter and autistic social psychologist, Devon Price, who had written a book on neurodiversity and masking. The segment was entitled, “How ‘unmasking’ leads to freedom for autistic and other neurodivergent people.” In the segment they discussed the phenomenon of masking, where autistic and other neurodiverse people engage in a series of practices to appear neurotypical. They offered the example where some autistic people would move their body, such as tapping their foot or shaking their leg to self-soothe or to help them focus. This is called self-stimulated behavior or “stimming.” Neurodivergent people who stim are often taught to mask their neurodiversity by trying to avoid stimming, so that neurotypical people are more comfortable with them. This is called masking. Masking works differently for different people. Some neurodiverse individuals try to stop stimming, some try to smile on cue or mimic eye contact by looking at someone’s forehead. Some will go to great lengths to plan for social interactions, including looking at maps of locations, reviewing menus, and plotting how to appear neurotypical when around others who are neurotypical.
Masking is exhausting for neurodiverse people, but it’s also harmful, and can lead some to experiencing depression and isolation. As I listened to this segment, I thought of not only all of the neurodiverse people in my life, where I had witnessed folks coaching them or criticizing them to act “more normal,” but I also thought of all the other folks I know with dis/abilities that may be invisible, colleagues who live with chronic pain or push through injury or illness to present as okay. We need to do better in society, in classrooms, in labs, and in clinical settings to create spaces that don’t expect masking, and don’t communicate unspoken rules and practices that encourage everyone to appear “healthy” and “normal,” under a neurotypical definition. Last year I was at a conference where colleagues were discussing what outcomes or competencies we should expect of students related to wellness. This came dangerously close to setting an expectation of performing wellness, and not only that, but an able-bodied, neurotypical version of wellness.
Instead, we need to rethink standards in medical education and in clinical settings that genuinely invite people to bring their whole selves into these settings. From large policies that favor able-bodied, neurotypical people to small signals we might send to neurodiverse people suggesting they change their way of being, we need to grow our understanding of ability and neurodiversity to create a sense of belonging for everyone. We’ll likely find that that level of inclusivity helps us all to thrive.
Resources
- “How to talk about disability sensitively and avoid ableist tropes,” NPR
- Unmasking Autism, Devon Price
