The work of queer autistic scholar Nick Walker has played a key role in the evolving discourse on human neurodiversity.
Neuroqueer Heresies collects a decade's worth of Dr. Walker's most influential writings, along with new commentary by the author and new material on her radical conceptualization of Neuroqueer Theory.
This book is essential reading for anyone seeking to understand the foundations, terminology, implications, and leading edges of the emerging neurodiversity paradigm.
Nick Walker is a queer, transgender, flamingly autistic author of both speculative fiction and nonfiction, and co-creator of the urban fantasy webcomic Weird Luck. Her nonfiction explores the edges and intersections of queerness, neurodivergence, embodiment, and creative transformation. She's also a professor of psychology at California Institute of Integral Studies, an aikido teacher, and a lifelong zen practitioner.
As an autistic adult, I found this book frustrating in a somewhat enjoyable way. The book may have its myriad of faults, but beyond them are some important truths. It irked me how bad the actual writing was at times. Many of the technical or academic sections, defining terms or laying the groundwork for understanding concepts, were written for an intellectual, and to risk being blunt, intelligent audience. Other parts are terribly casual, hand waving away opposing viewpoints by offering no criticism other than them being "disgusting" or "abhorrent" without justifying why.
Full recognition that my background in multiple STEM fields and professional life as a scientist and engineer may exacerbate my intolerance of specific transgressions, but this author could have benefitted tremendously from a greater exposure to mathematical and logic principles. Their inductive reasoning is particularly wanting.
Behind all of this though, were conclusions about social behavior and biological systems that are both absolutely true and not often talked about.
Very few books have ever left me with such a frustrating recurrence of feeling "This is such a poor way to put this and I can see why people probably bully you" followed by "damn, but you're right though".
This is the type of work that I expect to be fully ignored in 5-10 years but also be responsible for inspiring a slew of important, thought provoking, work over that same time period.
The writing, presentation, and deduction get an almost ubiquitous 1/5 stars. The gems of truth hidden amongst all of that get a 5/5. So we settle on 3/5 in the end.
HAd to dnf this at 50%, which is something I almost never do.
See, when the author says that autism is no tragedy that is robbing people their children I agree with her. When she says that neurodivergence should be more normalised in our society, full yes!
The author also says "Autism is not a disability, but autistic people are disabled" and that if we would all be accommodated and society would change we wouldn't be disabled anymore. She rejects pathollogising language and while I understand where she comes from I grew more and more irritated, angry even while listening.
There is, for example, a comparison with Synaesthesia: It's also a neurodivergence, but it's not called a disability. I'm autistic, I have ADHD and I have Synaesthesia and yeah... Synaesthesia has never had me lying on the sofa in executive dysfunction. In a perfectly accommodating world I would still bump into stuff, have problems with coordination etc. If I don't take my Medikinet, no matter how few stress I have, my thoughts will race and process information which can be overwhelming on it's own. I find it quite sife saving that I have my medication, which is only possible through patholigising my ADHD a bit by saying: "Hey, I struggle, I need help".
Disability is not a dirty word either. I understand the urge to normalise Autism, ADHD and other neurodivergencies in society, to tell people "Communication goes both ways", to hope for a future where accommodations are all around us. But if we exclude all the autistic people who would still go through the world being disabled from the conversation because we think disability means "less" and/or is disrespectful... we are ableist again.
I am not a fan of autism moms who post in the internet how they want to "heal" their children from autism, not a fan of ABA and I am still learning to unmask, which is hard because the mask helped me not getting bullied/brutalized by classmates, even not being bullied by my own parents. So I get the whole "ableism is bad, we need to change the world"-thing. I now have a great partner who is accommodating me a lot, but I still have support needs, need my medication etc., you coul not leave me alone one month and hope I'd eat enough/healthy enough to not get severe health issues because I'd just zone into my own little world - if not being able to live on my own is not a disability, what is it? While I don't think my communication differences have to be pathologised I still think my dopamine deficit, dyspraxia and my "habit" to forget the world around me to a point where I would not eat/drink for too long etc. can be, because it's inherently disabling and putting me to danger in whatever setting I am living in.
It makes me sad that a lot of people in the disability discourse say and want the right things (going against ableism and neurotypical people meeting us halfway, accommodations etc), but are not willing to see that autism can be inherently disableing at the same time.
Having a disability is nothing bad, pathologising certain aspects must also not mean that it's inherently unhelpful. I think medical science, doctors, psychologists etc. have to learn more about autism, ADHD and so on and change a lot, yes. But I think people accepting that yes, autism can be inherently disabling which is also something normal and nothing bad is the best way for them to accommodate.
To make that very clear: The goal is to acceppt and respect disability as a normal aspect of live and accommodate it, not pathologise the stuff that isn't inherently harmful to disabled or nondisabled people (such as special interests, stimming, communication differences etc)., but not seeing being disabled and needing help as something that is bad or less. I am not disrespecting myself when I say I am disabled, I just am.
This book is a MUST READ!! Lays out extremely digestible definitions of and frameworks for utilizing different terms related to neurodivergence, neurodiversity, and neuroqueer, and the problems with pathologization, as well as provides extremely important input for interacting with and honoring the individuality of autistic individuals (through clinical work, educational settings, and personal relationships).
1⭐️. I have been looking for a book to recommend to families who are exploring their children’s diagnoses and also questioning if they, themselves, may also be autistic. This is the second queer, trans, autistic, doctorate-level author I’ve found in the last month and I am again so disoriented after reading. While the last book suggested that autistic individuals embrace their disorder, this author goes as far to say that people who label autism as a disorder are autistiphobic bigots. There also seems to be a hierarchy of autistic people - those who should be trusted and those that are “tame autistics” benefitting from a life of internalized oppression. This book came across as a war cry but I’m not entirely sure against whom (read: everyone?) besides ABA practitioners (that part was loud and clear).
Dr. Walker encourages the reader to be their true, authentic, oddball selves, regardless of what socio-cultural expectations dictate.... but this book is also much more than that.
If you are Autistic, or care about someone who is Autistic, or in any way an outlier, this book is for you and for them. It will change how you view yourself and others in your life, guiding you to fully embrace your weird and amazing self. It's more than that too.
Dr. Walker not only accepts those of us who are chronically defiant, insubordinate, oppositional dissidents, she celebrates them and welcomes them to her joyful club of bohemians and heretics.
This book is for those of us who were always railing against injustice, even when we didn't fully understand what it was we were fighting for or against.
This book is a work of advocacy for fellow neurodivergents, an intellectually demanding book that will challenge your preconceptions and assumptions.
If you aren't questioning at least some of your long-held beliefs by the end of this book, then go back to the beginning and start again.
Certainly an important book and a timely championing of the neurodiversity paradigm but it's marred by poor writing, formatting and typographical errors, occasionally hyperbolic assertions and the author's rather off-putting, self-aggrandising writing style....
Required reading for any scholar of trans, queer, disability, and/or neurodiversity studies from one of the preeminent scholars on neuroqueerness (and a co-coiner of the term!). This is a collection of old and new essays, as well as annotations on them, which lucidly articulate a radically inclusive conception of neuroqueerness that I am so, so honored to engage with.
I usually don’t give stuff like this five stars, and while I don’t agree with everything Dr. Walker says, her deconstruction of language and discussion of pathology paradigms and the use of the term neurodivergent vs neurodiverse was like nothing else I have ever read on this subject! She is consistently clear and makes such interesting points and I desperately wish I could take one of her classes! That is all
In this essay collection, Nick Walker revisits her older articles and essays about the Neurodiversity Paradigm and adds newer commentary, delving into neuroqueering as well. This was a good mix of review and new information for me. I really liked that she included both the older essays and the additions, showing how her thinking and general discourse has changed. The biggest thing that hit me personally in this was what she had to say about somatics/movement. It was a bit of a watershed moment for me, as that is a way I really stifle myself.
Overall, this is a good introduction to the Neurodiversity Paradigm and neuroqueering. I do think one would want to read more introductory things to disability in general before reading this if you are totally unfamiliar with discourses on disability, but if you have a basic understanding, this is a must-read.
I’m going to try and be as even keeled as possible in my review. This book has so many great insights and has forced me to begin the work of undoing my internalized pathology paradigm. The author’s arguments against person-first language are eye opening and I am grateful to have been given this perspective.
I loved the part about how disability should be looked at from the lens of society’s inability to accommodate neurodivergent people. To a point.
I worked in a school for children and adults with very severe autism for three years. These are the kids society and I think our author has often forgotten about. The kids who are clawing out the eyes of their own parents or siblings because they didn’t care for the sound their plate made against the dinner table. The kids smearing feces on the wall of the bathroom at target because they were asked to walk to the bathroom because their caregiver could smell the soiled diaper, or dropping their pants to feel the fabric of the couch against their testicles (I’m citing examples all of my own personal experience). Are we supposed to just let these behaviors happen because these kids have autism? Calling ABA a bogus therapy is doing these individuals, who are in or working towards semi independent lives with productive jobs, a major disservice. The tone of the book was incredibly condescending and shameful. I abide by the Brene Brown school of thought where we should call people in to advocate for change, rather than calling them out.
The overall information in this book is so valuable, but the minimal lens of only thinking of those autistic individuals who are more able to mask their unique behaviors over the ones with more obvious needs and behaviors, does this information a huge disservice. 3/5
This is very condescending and self-aggrandising. One can almost feel the anger radiating off the pages. If I’m honest I disagree with a number of facets of queer theory generally, and thus feel the same way here.
Walker did not manage to convince me differently, because she was too busy calling everyone who disagrees in any way “autistiphobic bigots”. Autistic people who disagree with her are “tame autistics” - like it’s not super insulting to compare people to animals for having a different opinion?
Additionally, I found the theory to be self-contradictory. If one’s characteristics are changeable then ABA and conversion therapy should work (if still be unethical) yet she correctly states that they do not. Neurotypical is defined in about six contradictory ways.
Also she claims nobody is innately NT and yet NTs need to check their privilege and can never teach courses about neurodivergence (unless I assume they take LSD, which is *so marvellous*).
Basically according to Walker the only people who should be allowed to teach autism classes or even hold an opinion are… herself and people who agree with her on everything. Sounds dictatorial, yet for another contradiction her proposals for throwing every norm out the window seem anarchist.
I think that perhaps I would have enjoyed this more two years ago when my opinions were less moderate, because the takes in here are honestly very extreme. Just remember: be yourself (unless you disagree with me).
I highly recommend Dr. Nick Walker's book to anyone who is (or will be) a professional working with neurodivergent people.
This book is an updated collection of Dr. Walker's published essays over the last several years, which--if absorbed and followed--will help professionals and advocates (including parent advocates) avoid/address toxic practices and internal ableism rampant in discussions (both formal and informal) around disability and neurodivergence. This book summarizes where we are at now with the "divide" between professionals using the pathology paradigm (medical model of disability) and the neurodiversity paradigm (social model of disability). As someone who has sought to be the latter for many years, I still come away with several important reminders and tweaks I need to make to my approach and internal attitudes.
As a neurodivergent professional working with people whose neurodivergence differs from my own, it is helpful to be educated and reminded about many of the inherently ableist attitudes and practices that serve as obstacles to our community, even though I have experienced it on some level.
This book has inspired me to be a force for neurocosmopolitanism! I am very grateful to have a handy book full of Dr. Walker's work that will continue to inform and enrich me for years to come.
Wow. I am hesitating giving this book 5 stars because I have some complaints, but it is deserving. I want to first say that this is NOT a beginner’s guide to autism or neurodivergence. I felt well-equipped to read this, but I would not have been 2 years ago. Anyway, let me start with my complaints:
This book has MANY typos—mostly just missing words that made me reread several sentences multiple times. It clearly needed another round of editing. Paired with these silly mistakes is an academic language that felt inaccessible at times because of the complexity of the word choice. It was a weird combo, and I felt a little dumb. I am aware that this book is meant to be an academic text, especially since the author literally wrote that she intended to use this book as a textbook for courses she teaches. However, with this being one of the first academic texts on these topics, I would have hoped it would be a little less… lecture-y. And finally, I got a little annoyed by Walker explaining the background behind every essay and where it was originally published, etc. It just felt unnecessary!
On to the good stuff: While I was annoyed at the extra explanations before each essay, I actually started to really enjoy reading the thinking behind each idea, term, and piece of writing Walker came up with. This was such a neurodivergent way of writing, and I love it. I really enjoyed the chapter “Neurodivergence & Disability,” which focused on defining disability through two models and how autism (and other neurominorities) fits into the social model of disability. And then just in general, this book provided me with so much more than other books on autism have provided me with. Nick Walker is clearly incredibly smart, and I feel lucky to be able to learn from her. I am excited to start neuroqueering and shifting to the neurodiversity paradigm, etc.
An iconic quote, “If you see anyone trying to narrow the definition of neuroqueer and trying to police who gets to use the term, feel free to tell them that I said to stop acting like a fucking cop. The world needs more queering and fewer cops” (167).
As a brief overview - I love and agree with every point made, but really wish that these points were made with a little more sensitivity and a whole lot less ranting.
On one hand, I really want to leave this book a raving review because I feel so strongly about the message given! I've been keen to find a book that, from an autistic perspective, describes what it is to be autistic, the right language to use, accommodations that can be made and the social model of disability. This book does all of this, which I love! But unfortunately, these wonderful nuggets of information are densely wrapped in a tirade about the people who get it wrong, with a chapter and a half seemingly entirely devoted to ranting about this. I do not use the wrong language, and it still frustrated me. I can only imagine how patronized somebody who had been using that language would feel!
I really wanted to offer this book to my peers at college, as we are on the final level of a counselling qualification, and I feel that it is so important it is for counsellors to be informed about how autistic people actually feel, so that their understanding is not dictated by the medical model. *shudders* But unfortunately, by the end of the book, I felt that there were too many chapters with somewhat patronizing over-explanations, and chapters almost entirely filled with ranting. I simply felt that nobody non-autistic, who had ever had any misunderstanding of autism, would be able to get through the book without feeling downtrodden and heavily criticised.
I sincerely understand the author's frustration. There is so much misunderstanding in the world about us autistics, and so much fixation on the medical model that looks down on us with pity and teaches the world to use language that belittles our experiences, turns them into nothing other than a disorder, and at the very worst, an epidemic. Whilst I understand the need to express this problem, I also feel deep regret that so much of the writing had to be impacted by this discussion.
(Perhaps to a degree, this is my own projection, maybe I wanted a more joyful book! One that did not focus so heavily on the harmful perceptions and treatment of autistic people.) But most of all, I wanted a book that would feel accessible and welcoming for non-autistic readers to gain an understanding. Unfortunately, this book does not achieve the latter. Most ironically, I feel I have just ranted about ranting... lol, sorry.
All in all, the book holds an incredibly important message. But be prepared to sift through vast amounts of over-explaining and a chunky chapter filled with ranting about the incorrect use of language.
For someone who claims to want autistic liberation, the author sure spends a lot of time denigrating and belittling autistics who don't contextualize their autism the same way as her. Calling autistics who disagree with you "tokens"? Hop off the high horse. This book added nothing of value to the conversation.
I'm extremely disappointed with this book, and I was so excited to read it thinking it would give me some insights into my own autism. Regrettably, it's faux-scholarly drivel that reminds me they'll just hand out college degrees to anyone who asks. No matter how much you want to wrap it up in the semantic nothingburger of "social model of disability", I'm not going to stop being disabled just because some accommodations are made for me, and I don't mean the autism. Complete lack of regard for those disabled via chronic illness who will still always be disabled no matter how much society adapts to include us.
The author comes off as nasty and condescending, and not the sort who I want speaking for me. I'll do that myself, thank you very much.
I don't think I can rate this, but: my autistic, queer house mate recommend this book written by a an autistic, trans person to me as an intro to the neurodiversity paradigm and to the concept of neuroqueering it's very accessibly written and i have learned a lot and so much to think about; recommend!
This was clearly a collection of writings for vastly different purposes (academia, casual blog posts), written at highly different reading levels. Although I didn't always agree with the concepts Dr Walker expressed (I generally did), I DID appreciate the historical view of the "origins" of the phrase neuroqueer, which I've been familiar with for about the last decade, via Tumblr. It was a decent book overall.
this has good points (i esp like her point that no one can be born neurotypical just like how no one can be born heterosexual) and works as in introductory text but it was also very repetitive and definitely not the learning experience i was hoping for
Si bien en alguna manera de plantear las cosas puedo coincidir más o menos, me ha resultado super interesante y educativo, y no podría haberme gustado más lo que plantea, especialmente la última parte. Además de estar explicado de forma muy clara, desde el punto de vista de una persona que nunca lee ensayos.
"If you see anyone trying to narrow the definition of neuroqueer, and trying to police who gets to use the term, feel free to tell them that I said to stop acting like a fucking cop. The world needs more queering, and fewer cops."
both a fascinating micro-archive of the history of autism + the neurodiversity paradigm, and a book i wish to shove in the face of everyone who has ever used “neurodivergent” as a euphemism for “autistic”.
Ultimately a great book, but I feel I would have gotten as much out of it from reading the second half alone.
The early essays were flawed and frustrating to read, and I am disappointed that they were published without being edited significantly or rewritten. Walker instead writes an introduction instructing readers to look for any 'contradictions' themselves, and assume that any later argument takes precedence. I'm uncomfortable with this evasion of responsibility for what she's publishing, and I don't think this caveat will prevent harm caused by inadequately considered texts, given that they're intended to occupy the privileged position of teaching material.
Among the early sections of the book, the one that concerned me most was the grammatical prescriptivism chapter. It rails against various 'misuses' of language around neurodiversity. I would be worried about undergraduates reading this unedited early text in the privileged position of course textbook, primarily because the text assigns morality to normative grammar, unintentionally stigmatising those who don't construct sentences and assign meaning in the same way that the author does.
One such 'incorrect' example sentence is 'autistics and other neurodiverse people'. The chapter does raise the good core point that neurodiverse should not be used as shorthand for autistic (in the same way that diverse should not be used as shorthand for black, for example). This is because an entire population is diverse, including both those with extra privilege and those who don't conform to normative standards. Use of the word 'diverse' to refer to one minoritised individual carries the implication that those with privilege are just 'normal'. However, Walker's prescriptivist lens has, to give one example, the unfortunate consequence of obscuring the neurodiversity within autistic populations. Autistic people are neurodiverse. 'Autistics and other neurodiverse people' could be a powerful thing to say, depending on the other words that follow. However, the text closes off possibility of more complicated discussions like that through its derisive tone and insistent focus on grammar policing.
Just as it's possible to use the word 'neurodiversity' and be working within the pathology paradigm, I hope the author will now recognise that people can potentially construct phrases in a variety of ways and be working within a neurodiversity paradigm.
Too often high-profile queer activism relies on shaming people for understanding gender and language in anything other than a middle-class way. Take, for instance, the "transphobes don't understand how pronouns work" trope which rests on classist assumptions, positioning the trans activist as having the moral high ground through being educated or 'intelligent', and using grammar normatively.
I hope if she's reading reviews, Nick will consider removing and rewriting these. In order to make that core point without class collateral, it needs to be critical of grammatical prescriptivism, and understand that fragments of sentences are not enough to understand the impact of someone's language use on the world - we need to consider their whole approach, and acknowledge that language is used flexibly.
That all said I did really love the last part of the book, and will summarise one of my favourite points here:
Seeing neuroqueer as practice is important because nobody is born neurotypical. Some are born with the capacity to meet normative performance demands. However, they are not neurotypical. They are no more neurotypical than they are a chemical engineer, because they have the potential to become one in 20 years. On the other hand, some are born with bodies that are incapable of ever performing neurotypicality. These people are in a sense neurodivergent already.
One point of seeing neuroqueer as verb is that any and all people can learn to 'unzip their normal suits' and embody neuroqueer body movements and thought processes by getting in touch with their sensory impulses. Anyone can neuroqueer. The more individuals neuroqueer, the more we can neuroqueer spaces and cultures, and resist neurodivergent people being made neurominorities.
Shelving this under ethics, human rights, and justice-making because the disablement of neurodivergent folx is part of social problems of injustice and educational expectations (trying to make people pass as more neurotypical). Loved this essays, for weaving together queer theory and somatic experience with neurodivergent experiences and theories of neurodiversity.
To preface this scathing review, I agree with much of the neurodiversity paradigm. However, this author chooses to over analyze inconsequential details and does not consider those with severe impairments or the most violent acts of oppression, such as institutionalization, restraint, or adversives. Perhaps my issues with this book comes from the fact that I am disabled first and autistic second; the ideas presented in this book tosses aside decades of disability civil rights work in favor of a framework that only considers the needs of a select few.
Here are the complaints I jotted down as I read. It gets progressively less formal as I realized this was not a work to be taken seriously:
This is the most Ivory Tower text I have read in a long time. This is head in my hands, eyerollingly, detached from reality. As I finished chapter 2 (which I was calling the, “the pedantry chapter”until I finished the book and realized that the entire substance was pedantry) and I was thinking that the author is fighting a battle for the definitions of these terms that was lost many years before this anthology was published. Then, in the commentary section (which is actually a feature of this work that I really like, except for the fact that the author never critiques her past work) the author says that these are the most accurate definitions of the words because the definitions are approved by the people who coined the terms. Now I am no linguist, but I don’t think that is how dictionaries create definitions. Definitions seem like a ‘the purpose of a system is what it does’ type of situation - words mean what we use them to mean - and one style guide masquerading as an essay won’t change that. Then, there is the whole word “neurominority.” Apparently, it is supposed to mean a minority neurotype that you are born with, rather than just a minority neurotype, which is what the word sounds like it means. No wonder “neurominority” never caught on. And this author is blathering on about how ‘if someone doesn’t use these 5 extremely similar terms exactly how I want them used they’re not really an expert or activist.’ STFU, we have ABA clinics calling themselves “neurodiversity affirming" and this is what you are complaining about?
Basically the only time disability is brought up is in the chapter on the social model of disability (which the neurodiversity paradigm is essentially cribbed from). After explaining the social model, the rest of the chapter feels like the author is employing sovereign citizen levels of loopholing to say ‘I’m not like those r slurs.’
Seriously, writing an essay about person first language in 2021? It seems like this author believes that systems of oppression can be dismantled solely through language. But also, isn’t person first language preferred by the intellectually disabled community? I don’t care enough to research it, because I don’t care about these 20 year old language debates, but the author should have mentioned this even if it is a common misconception.
Also, the audio quality in this audiobook would have an amateur podcaster desperately apologizing. I almost had to give up because of sensory issues.
Weird jab at asexuals and then deriding autistic people who don’t consider themselves disabled (except it really seems like the author doesn’t consider herself disabled? Disability only comes up when discussing the social model).
It's good to see more autistic people advancing in academia to the level where they are respected for the knowledge they can provide. Taking up a task to clear up at very least the terminology used, if not the presupositions that come with the language? Admirable! However, one thing an autistic academic will inevitably forget about: that their experience is shaped by their life being bound to academia. It always shows.
The first thing I've taken out of the book: time to destigmatize the word "pathology". It's treated as an evil word to be avoided at all cost, half of the time together with "disability". But only half, and only when it fits her point. Seriously, nothing confused me more than the ever-flowing stance on neurodivergence and disability here. And that's where the author and I have started losing the common ground.
Let's start with the disability 101. Are we as a society failing to accomodate to disabilities? Sure. But would having wheelchair-safe evacuation solutions mean the wheelchair user has exactly the same set of skills as everyone else? Still no, sorry. And that's where the medical model still wins over the social model. Fun fact: I'm legally only allowed to drive a car in glasses. And for a good reason: my particular astigmatism makes it impossible to read white letters on green boards. Should I write petitions for removal of all green sign boards as a necessary accomodation for me? Nope, I'll stick to my glasses. Either way, the source of the problem is, and always was, located in my eyes. Society we live in has noting to do with it.
The author and I agree on the "person first" language, though to me it sounds more like trying to sound overly correct rather than "pathologizing". Also, it seems like more of a personal choice than anything else, since I've heard plenty of people with disabilities who prefer that form, so definitely not a right windmill to tilt at, which she's spent too much time doing for some reason.
Now, is "normal" a good term to use when making comparisons within the whole spectrum of neurodiversity? Probably not. However, with the amount of time the author spent defining, redefining, end re-examining the definition of "neurotypical" makes me almost sure there is no functional alternative, at least not yet. Also, widely accepting neurodiversity as a spectrum still won't be a solution to: * school bullies; * having to adjust your comunication style to your speaker (fun fact: there is a significant comunication gap between me and my boss, and we're both on the autism spectrum); * inability to process the passage of time; * the inevitable trying and failing to make every place accessible for everyone at once, because that's always been the only way to do it on the legislation level, and despite the call to not use "the master's tools to dismantle the master's house", deep down every group still very much plans to do just that once they are in power.
Like it or not, there is a difference between me, only ever formally diagnosed with dyspraxia, and my cousin who might never be able to live alone. Pretending there isn't, insisting that "low-functioning" is only a discriminating descriptor and nothing else, might be anti-ableist, but also is exactly the kind of tunnel vision chronically online autistic academics are so prone to displaying. Begrudgingly allowing "pathologizing" and "consensual treatment" of some symptoms doesn't make the author sound less closed-minded, just more condescending.
And "neurocosmopolitanism" is such a bullshit term she should have left it to rot in obscurity rather than bringing it back up.
Lmao @everyone in these reviews, y’all CANNOT handle being told you’re wrong. Nick Walker is an expert in the field, and this is legitimately paradigm shifting non fiction. She’s not ranting, she’s not condescending, she is shifting your perspective in a way that makes you feel bad about yourself because changing viewpoints is often painful. Such is the way of learning new information.
This is chock full of lines that genuinely shifted my tools for thinking about ~~neuro diversity and also has several tips for like, just ways to live my life
My favorite, as a random aside, is in an essay in which Walker discusses how different access needs can be addressed in a classroom — if one kid needs to drum their fingers and the other needs the room to be silent in order to focus, have kid a drum their fingers on a scarf to deaden the noise.
Weirdly I can’t get that line of thinking out of my head. Why does anything have to be either or? Why can’t I be honest about the exact thing I need — a quieter space, etc— and figure out a way to have that while everyone else also has what they need? TLDR I now often wear an overear headset in my house to deal with noise, and it’s great
Also love the idea that neurotypical/neurodivergent communication is a two way street. Ie, no one is ever bad at explaining themselves, the speaker is struggling to communicate AND the listener is struggling to understand, if there is a “deficit” in anyone there is a deficit in both.
Also, many people in the comments are confused by Walker’s description of disability, saying a person who can’t live independently inherently has a disability— again, walker’s point is that they are disabled by a society that even expects all people to live alone. If society had a robust system of using caretakers as the norm, that person would not have a disability. Like, many people without glasses could not live alone, but because society has given them glasses, society has enabled them.