https://tsl.news/opinions7549/
The author has a lot of good things to say here, which is of course why I'm recommending you read it. I have a few more things to add.
I actually like puzzles, although not enough to buy the card table and sufficient numbers of puzzles that would be required to make it a regular part of my life. The thing I've noticed with most puzzles, though, is that the pieces tend to look fairly similar.
You can kind of see here there's only two types of pieces in this logo. Three of them are exactly the same, and there's one edge piece. Those three, they're what most people think of when told to imagine a puzzle piece.
The author has a lot of good things to say here, which is of course why I'm recommending you read it. I have a few more things to add.
I actually like puzzles, although not enough to buy the card table and sufficient numbers of puzzles that would be required to make it a regular part of my life. The thing I've noticed with most puzzles, though, is that the pieces tend to look fairly similar.
You can kind of see here there's only two types of pieces in this logo. Three of them are exactly the same, and there's one edge piece. Those three, they're what most people think of when told to imagine a puzzle piece.
There are actually a lot more kinds than that, but once again, look carefully at these. They're all based on a square or a rectangle, with ovals cut into them or sticking out from them. Very predictable. Very basic. In fact, many of these are simply rotated versions of previous pieces.
Does that sound like autistic people to you?
It really doesn't to me. We are much too different, much too unusual, to be summarized in so few variations.
If autism really had to be portrayed via puzzle piece, it would be more appropriate to use something like these:
But in all honesty, I think the author is right, that puzzle pieces give negative connotations and reinforce the disease model of autism. That if you just find the right therapy, your kid will be normal again and fit into the rest of the world. That's a message desperate parents desperately want to hear, and it's an easy one to sell bleach enemas (or other bullshit "treatments") to.
Humans love the ideal of a silver bullet. We hunt religiously for a singular, magical cure for all kinds of things. Search "weight loss" to get an idea of how absurdly far people will go for a single solution to this relatively common-in-the-US problem. There are, off a quick search: pills, special diets, support groups, apps, slimming drinks, patches, injections, and powders. More than half of what I've just listed is a form of metaphorical snake oil, and as likely to wreck your health as help you.
Funnily enough, the same is true of most advertised autism treatments.
There isn't, in my opinion, an obvious stand-in for the puzzle piece. Replacements have been tried, and various organizations have their own logos, of course. There's some interesting suggestions in this article, also. I kind of like ASAN's logo, for being pretty and relatively simple while still being inclusive.
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