http://www.thinkingautismguide.com/2018/06/parents-do-not-infantilise-your-teenage.html
This is a fine article by itself, but I wanted to directly state an idea referenced here, but not defined outright: presuming competence.
A person may have developmental challenges, such as having limited executive/organizational functions, lacking speech or having very limited speech, or intellectual disability. Or they may have a chronic illness, or a physical disability. That does not make them somehow younger than their chronological age. Even if some parts of their brain are slower to develop, such as emotional control, other parts may be at or exceeding their chronological age.
I'm an obvious example. Chronologically, I'm going to be 30 this year. Emotionally, I'm probably still in my early 20s, maybe even very late teens. I have poorer emotional control, and have a harder time identifying what emotions I'm feeling, and why I'm feeling them. Mentally, I get along very well with people 10-30 years my senior. I often have, even when I was much younger than I am now.
Should people treat me like I'm 19 because that's how old I am emotionally? Absolutely not. People should treat me like I'm 30, because that's how old I am. Should consideration and understanding be shown if I don't always act like I'm 30? Of course. But people don't get to mentally scale back my age just because a single facet of me does not line up with what's considered "adult."
I'm a really easy example, and because so many of my other facets seem "normal," it's unlikely that someone will speak to me like I'm a baby, or override my decisions due to assuming I'm incapable or unsuited to making them. But that isn't the case for many autistic people.
Presuming competence is about assuming a person is an adult and can handle a situation unless it's clear they can't. It's allowing a person to try, and giving support only when needed. It's taking the person at their word, rather than ignoring them while you insist you know best. It means allowing your teenagers and young adults to take risks (see: "dignity of risk" as mentioned in the article). It's about treating a person like a person, rather than a perpetual child.
I hated being a child. It upset me that, systemically, nobody cared what I thought, or what I wanted. Even the most well-meaning of adults tuned me out when they didn't like what they heard. Rarely was my input asked, and even more rarely heeded. My parents were better about this than most, but I surely cannot say the same for many of my teachers. "Adults know best," was the catchphrase.
It's a remarkably thoughtless sentiment over all, and particularly so when it comes to autism and developmental disorders. If you don't have a developmental disorder, you really don't know what it's like. All the books in the world cannot tell you what it's like to have your brain twisted into knots and fed into a meat grinder when the sound of a fork in an industrial blender reaches your ears. All you get to see me bursting into tears while everyone else simply pulls a face and covers their ears.
You can't convey, in mere text, what it's like to know beyond the shadow of a doubt, that you are irrevocably different and therefore broken. That all the messages of "what's good" and "what's normal," will always, always exclude you. You have to live with that the rest of your waking life. Even if most of the people around you don't buy into those messages, autistic people can still be very aware of them, even on an unconscious level.
And yet, somehow, adults know best. Except even when some of us grow up, we never get treated like adults. Unless, systemically, we presume competence. Even if a person can't hold a full time job, that doesn't mean they can't hold a part time job, or reliably do volunteer work. Presume they can.
It was, in large part, because it was assumed that I could... that I did. I got my driver's license, graduated high school, went to and graduated college, held several "normal" jobs, met and married my spouse, and bought a house and cars together. My parents put their faith in me that I could do these things, if I wanted to. Turns out I did... so I did.
Presume competence.
This is a fine article by itself, but I wanted to directly state an idea referenced here, but not defined outright: presuming competence.
A person may have developmental challenges, such as having limited executive/organizational functions, lacking speech or having very limited speech, or intellectual disability. Or they may have a chronic illness, or a physical disability. That does not make them somehow younger than their chronological age. Even if some parts of their brain are slower to develop, such as emotional control, other parts may be at or exceeding their chronological age.
I'm an obvious example. Chronologically, I'm going to be 30 this year. Emotionally, I'm probably still in my early 20s, maybe even very late teens. I have poorer emotional control, and have a harder time identifying what emotions I'm feeling, and why I'm feeling them. Mentally, I get along very well with people 10-30 years my senior. I often have, even when I was much younger than I am now.
Should people treat me like I'm 19 because that's how old I am emotionally? Absolutely not. People should treat me like I'm 30, because that's how old I am. Should consideration and understanding be shown if I don't always act like I'm 30? Of course. But people don't get to mentally scale back my age just because a single facet of me does not line up with what's considered "adult."
I'm a really easy example, and because so many of my other facets seem "normal," it's unlikely that someone will speak to me like I'm a baby, or override my decisions due to assuming I'm incapable or unsuited to making them. But that isn't the case for many autistic people.
Presuming competence is about assuming a person is an adult and can handle a situation unless it's clear they can't. It's allowing a person to try, and giving support only when needed. It's taking the person at their word, rather than ignoring them while you insist you know best. It means allowing your teenagers and young adults to take risks (see: "dignity of risk" as mentioned in the article). It's about treating a person like a person, rather than a perpetual child.
I hated being a child. It upset me that, systemically, nobody cared what I thought, or what I wanted. Even the most well-meaning of adults tuned me out when they didn't like what they heard. Rarely was my input asked, and even more rarely heeded. My parents were better about this than most, but I surely cannot say the same for many of my teachers. "Adults know best," was the catchphrase.
It's a remarkably thoughtless sentiment over all, and particularly so when it comes to autism and developmental disorders. If you don't have a developmental disorder, you really don't know what it's like. All the books in the world cannot tell you what it's like to have your brain twisted into knots and fed into a meat grinder when the sound of a fork in an industrial blender reaches your ears. All you get to see me bursting into tears while everyone else simply pulls a face and covers their ears.
You can't convey, in mere text, what it's like to know beyond the shadow of a doubt, that you are irrevocably different and therefore broken. That all the messages of "what's good" and "what's normal," will always, always exclude you. You have to live with that the rest of your waking life. Even if most of the people around you don't buy into those messages, autistic people can still be very aware of them, even on an unconscious level.
And yet, somehow, adults know best. Except even when some of us grow up, we never get treated like adults. Unless, systemically, we presume competence. Even if a person can't hold a full time job, that doesn't mean they can't hold a part time job, or reliably do volunteer work. Presume they can.
It was, in large part, because it was assumed that I could... that I did. I got my driver's license, graduated high school, went to and graduated college, held several "normal" jobs, met and married my spouse, and bought a house and cars together. My parents put their faith in me that I could do these things, if I wanted to. Turns out I did... so I did.
Presume competence.
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