https://advice.shinetext.com/articles/we-need-to-talk-about-and-recognize-representation-burnout/
This article is written by a woman of color, but it's written to address a much more general phenomenon. She quite rightly terms it Representation Burnout, referring to the fact that it affects any member of a minority group. Visible minorities, like African Americans, first generation immigrants, or women in some fields (most sciences, businessplaces, tech), and men in others (nursing, social work, cosmetology), are the obvious examples. You can often identify these minorities at a glance or in a short amount of time in their proximity. Skin color, accents, and ethnic or religious clothing serve as these obvious markers.
But she also mentions her friend, who is gay. That can be a more invisible minority group. A given gay man may choose to express his sexual orientation by conforming to particular stereotypes: dressing in more feminine clothes, wearing an earring, speaking in a particular fashion, or styling his hair a particular way. Or he may care for none of that, dress in stereotypically masculine ways, and simply date men instead of women. Thus his identity as a gay man would be all but invisible to casual observation. In this way, being gay can be externally expressed, but need not be. Every 100th man you pass in the grocery store, statistically, might well be gay. In this way, being gay is a mainly invisible minority group.
Another mainly invisible minority group? Autistic people. Especially, but not limited to, the so-called "higher functioning" group, those of us who have learned or been forced to suppress ourselves, successfully camouflaging our autism for the sake of the rejecting, intolerant public. There are a remarkable number of articles online talking about autistic burnout. I've actually linked to one previously, when I was suffering burnout. Seemed appropriate enough. Autistic burnout is, to my view, a specific type of representation burnout.
Most minorities are, to a point, expected to conform to the majority's ways of behaving. Immigrants to the US are expected to speak English, for example. Even if that is extremely difficult for them. Black and brown people in the US are expected to behave just like they're white people, and any "failure" on their part is treated as representative of all black and brown people. Women in male-dominated fields are expected to work within the system, rather than change it. Likewise for men in female-dominated fields. These are mainly implicit understandings, and no one will generally tell you what you're doing wrong if you don't conform. You just won't be as successful in that field or area as you should reasonably be.
What sets autistic people's struggles apart somewhat, I think, is the outright and blatant communication to many of us that we're not people unless we conform to neurotypical standards. Applied Behavioral Analysis, or ABA, often makes a point of not simply teaching "appropriate behavior" but also eliminating "inappropriate behavior," such as stimming, phrasing things in unusual ways, and doing activities in unintended yet creative ways. We are literally told we are wrong to be what we are, and often pushed and trained to be otherwise. For up for 40 hours a week. It's the same message given to any minority, just louder and in the guise of "helping" us.
At its worst, this is reminiscent of the boarding schools we once forced the children of the First People to attend. Native American children were taken from their parents and tribes, and made to attend federally sponsored boarding schools. The idea being that by taking them from their tribes and culture, and instead teaching them Western ways, the Native peoples could be assimilated into the broader US culture. The initial establishment of these schools was mainly benign and meant to facilitate education and empowerment of the First People, but it didn't take long for less moral people to realize they could use this schooling system to try to erase the First People. They kidnapped the children, took their culture (including their names) from them, and disciplined them harshly to the point of abuse. If you're familiar at all with US history, you'll note this attempted erasure of the First People is a depressingly common reoccurring theme.
I found the pointers and insights in this article both relevant and helpful. By and large, I don't really have that many people I'd consider, "allies that can say for me what I'd say" for my autism identity. Sometimes my spouse can, but for all the education he's had being married to me, and for all the writing on autism I've done, there just doesn't feel like a replacement for my speaking for myself. Perhaps that's part of why I spend so much of my time alone. You don't need to advocate for yourself if there's no one busily misunderstanding and prejudging you.
This article is written by a woman of color, but it's written to address a much more general phenomenon. She quite rightly terms it Representation Burnout, referring to the fact that it affects any member of a minority group. Visible minorities, like African Americans, first generation immigrants, or women in some fields (most sciences, businessplaces, tech), and men in others (nursing, social work, cosmetology), are the obvious examples. You can often identify these minorities at a glance or in a short amount of time in their proximity. Skin color, accents, and ethnic or religious clothing serve as these obvious markers.
But she also mentions her friend, who is gay. That can be a more invisible minority group. A given gay man may choose to express his sexual orientation by conforming to particular stereotypes: dressing in more feminine clothes, wearing an earring, speaking in a particular fashion, or styling his hair a particular way. Or he may care for none of that, dress in stereotypically masculine ways, and simply date men instead of women. Thus his identity as a gay man would be all but invisible to casual observation. In this way, being gay can be externally expressed, but need not be. Every 100th man you pass in the grocery store, statistically, might well be gay. In this way, being gay is a mainly invisible minority group.
Another mainly invisible minority group? Autistic people. Especially, but not limited to, the so-called "higher functioning" group, those of us who have learned or been forced to suppress ourselves, successfully camouflaging our autism for the sake of the rejecting, intolerant public. There are a remarkable number of articles online talking about autistic burnout. I've actually linked to one previously, when I was suffering burnout. Seemed appropriate enough. Autistic burnout is, to my view, a specific type of representation burnout.
Most minorities are, to a point, expected to conform to the majority's ways of behaving. Immigrants to the US are expected to speak English, for example. Even if that is extremely difficult for them. Black and brown people in the US are expected to behave just like they're white people, and any "failure" on their part is treated as representative of all black and brown people. Women in male-dominated fields are expected to work within the system, rather than change it. Likewise for men in female-dominated fields. These are mainly implicit understandings, and no one will generally tell you what you're doing wrong if you don't conform. You just won't be as successful in that field or area as you should reasonably be.
What sets autistic people's struggles apart somewhat, I think, is the outright and blatant communication to many of us that we're not people unless we conform to neurotypical standards. Applied Behavioral Analysis, or ABA, often makes a point of not simply teaching "appropriate behavior" but also eliminating "inappropriate behavior," such as stimming, phrasing things in unusual ways, and doing activities in unintended yet creative ways. We are literally told we are wrong to be what we are, and often pushed and trained to be otherwise. For up for 40 hours a week. It's the same message given to any minority, just louder and in the guise of "helping" us.
At its worst, this is reminiscent of the boarding schools we once forced the children of the First People to attend. Native American children were taken from their parents and tribes, and made to attend federally sponsored boarding schools. The idea being that by taking them from their tribes and culture, and instead teaching them Western ways, the Native peoples could be assimilated into the broader US culture. The initial establishment of these schools was mainly benign and meant to facilitate education and empowerment of the First People, but it didn't take long for less moral people to realize they could use this schooling system to try to erase the First People. They kidnapped the children, took their culture (including their names) from them, and disciplined them harshly to the point of abuse. If you're familiar at all with US history, you'll note this attempted erasure of the First People is a depressingly common reoccurring theme.
I found the pointers and insights in this article both relevant and helpful. By and large, I don't really have that many people I'd consider, "allies that can say for me what I'd say" for my autism identity. Sometimes my spouse can, but for all the education he's had being married to me, and for all the writing on autism I've done, there just doesn't feel like a replacement for my speaking for myself. Perhaps that's part of why I spend so much of my time alone. You don't need to advocate for yourself if there's no one busily misunderstanding and prejudging you.
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