Being an Ally - A Quick Primer On Supporting The Marginalized In Your Life

“I’m an ally.” It’s a phrase those of us in activist communities hear all the time. Sometimes, it describes us personally – perhaps we have friends or family members who are part of certain oppressed groups and we want to show solidarity and support – while at other times, it describes those who associate with us and want to provide support to our own struggles. In either case, it’s a politically charged and complicated term, and its so very easy to be a progressive person who means well yet falls flat when trying to do this properly. Recently, I came face to face with this myself when, while having the best of intentions, I accidentally invalidated the identity of a transgendered girl I had been talking to on OK Cupid by speaking too much about reproductive parts. Granted, that was far from the only thing we talked about, but it was the topic of conversation between us quite a few times. Were you to have asked me in the moment, I’d have defended myself by saying that I was only being honest with myself and her to ensure that we were compatible in every way. Truthfully, I’m not even sure she felt invalidated because she never seemed offended and in fact appeared to be more than willing to talk openly. And yet, I couldn’t help shake the feeling that I was failing in my attempts to support the rights of the Trans community. I spoke with a trans friend, explained the situation in more detail to him (including that I was willing to keep an open mind and did everything I could NOT to be reductionist, but couldn’t help but feel that I had been anyway), and he explained to me how tricky a situation it was. That by some definitions, what I’d done WAS wrong, but also that it appeared that I’d tried everything I could to avoid falling down the slope before I finally succumbed. He ended our conversation by saying that my attempts not to invalidate, coupled with my reaching out to find out how I could do better, in fact made me a good human being and ally, which I appreciated. And yet, the entire situation both rattled me and made me realize how very easy it is to slip up and fall down the slippery slope into normative privilege land.

So how do we avoid it? How, as both members of oppressed groups and allies of others, do we do everything we can to be the best allies we can be while avoiding the pitfalls on the way? I don’t have an easy answer for you (and I say that as both a spectrum dweller and someone who tries his hardest to be an ally to others), but after much thought I’ve come up with a list of things that can at least point us in the right direction:

“Leave the War Outside!” Checking Your Privilege At The Door and Recognizing That Everyone’s Truth is Different

I won’t lie, the title of this section reminds me of the cliché World War Two-era bar where patrons – both German soldier and civilian alike – were encouraged to “leave the war outside” for civility’s sake. The funny thing is, we can actually learn from this example and apply it to privilege. Essentially privilege is, among many things, the assumption that our personal life experiences as members of a group with social power are applicable to everyone (including marginalized and oppressed people). “Leaving the war outside,” in this context, means to take a momentary step outside your life circumstances, and try to see what it would be like to walk in someone else’s shoes. It’s the very important realization that your life circumstances are as genuine to you as those of someone else are to them. The sad reality is, we all need this reminder on occasion as even the best of us have the tendency to forget this by virtue of human nature. After all, the easiest perspective for us to understand as humans is our own, as it is the only concrete experience of consciousness we have at our disposal. Any time we look at, say, a member of the trans, LGBTQ, Neurodiversity, or hell even furry community and think ‘well that’s weird,’ because it doesn’t jive with our internal narrative of normalcy, we are doing this. Sometimes, we don’t even realize we’re doing it – that’s how deeply engrained this tendency within us is. Every time someone calls for a cure to the ‘terrible’ disease that is Autism Spectrum Disorder, for example – no matter how well meaning this call may be – they are engaging in this kind of behaviour and invalidating the existence of those of us on the Spectrum. Likewise, fat shaming “out of concern for their health” and countless other such micro-aggressions do the same thing. The best solution to this problem? Adopt a live and let live philosophy when it comes to others – after all, people in marginalized groups don’t NEED you to understand the details of what they’re going through as much as they need your acceptance of the validity of their existences. Even if you think it’s strange, remember this; no one asked you. Just go with it.

Don’t Police The Tone of Social Justice Conversations!

This is another common one on the internet, and one I’ve come across countless times online myself. A member of a marginalized group expresses genuine anger at some injustice or another perpetrated against their group. Not long after, a chorus of sheltered, privileged voices are screaming out about how aggressive this person was, and how they should ‘tone it down’ and ‘be more open to a reasonable discussion’ since, after all ‘you get more bees with honey than with vinegar.’ The thing is, this one is complicated because strictly speaking, it IS true that people respond better when being talked to than when they’re faced with anger and aggression. It’s even understandable that people would strive for this – after all, in an ideal world, this WOULD be the best way to engage in such conversations. The key thing to remember here, however, is that we do not in fact live in that world. Those who call out for calm, reasoned conversations often have privileged life circumstances that make it easy for them to step back and treat social justice issues with a calm, theoretical eye. Not every one has that ability, least of all those who face racist/sexist/transphobic/homophobic/ableist microaggressions each and every day. The fact is, when you face constant comments denouncing the legitimacy of your life experience, you will be angry. And most often, when in this situation, you also won’t have an outlet because society will be against you (funny thing about living in a society where certain groups are more prized than others). When you have your back up against the wall, are facing discrimination on one side and lack any forum for legitimate expression on the other, you WILL lash out in anger. To deny oppressed and marginalized people this anger under the guise of ‘keeping things civil’ is to silence their voices. I’m not saying you CAN’T be someone who prefers reasoned, level-headed discourse about these subjects – certainly calm quiet activism has its place and is effective in its own way. But if you are one of those people, go back, re-read the first section and remember; your way is not everyone’s way. Remember that everyone deals with these things differently. They aren’t any less valid.

Don’t Know How Best To Be An Ally? ASK! (But Don’t Assume)

This is probably one of the most important ones on this list, because it respects the agency of oppressed and marginalized groups. To borrow a phrase from my own cause in the Neurodiversity struggle, there should never be anything about a marginalized group without input from said marginalized group. (“Nothing about us without us!”) It is not the place of an ally to assume that they know how best to be of help to an oppressed group, no matter how well intentioned that assumption may be. If you aren’t sure how best to be supportive to those of us who need allies, then please ask! Odds are, we’ll be happy to talk to you about it. Be careful though; while it’s a matter of practical reality that, at least in the Neurodiversity struggle, it falls on us to educate others about our needs, don’t ever assume that it’s our RESPONSIBILITY to do so. There are lots of great resources out there – educate yourself, bring what you have to the table, and ask us for clarification. If you do your homework, I for one will be happy to help!

Understand The Difference Between “Guilt” and “Responsibility” (And Don’t Take It Personally!):

This is one that hangs lots of people up online, especially as it regards both racism and sexism. After all, when taken out of context, hearing things like “everyone’s a racist/sexist” can sound downright discriminatory. I mean, we were all taught not to lump people into groups right? Likewise, saying “all white people are responsible for racism” seems very accusatory. When faced with this, remember; there is a very significant difference between guilt and responsibility in this context. I don’t think there’s an activist alive who would say (unless you are an ignorant pig) that you’re personally guilty of any racist/sexist/classist/etc. actions unless you show yourself doing such things on a daily basis. If you’re a good person who doesn’t do these things, then you are absolutely right that you aren’t guilty of them. However, if you are a member of a privileged group (white, male, cisgendered, straight, neurotypical and so on) then, as someone whose life has been made better by institutionalized systems of power based on oppression, you ARE responsible for trying to level the playing field. A good way to look at this is in the context of working at a retail job. You aren’t personally guilty as a lowly peon for any of the crappy policies your company may have towards its customers, but as an employee (and therefore a representative of your organization) who deals with the people affected, you are responsible for trying to mitigate the situation as best you can for all involved. The same logic applies to social justice situations when it comes to dynamics of privilege and oppression in society. So despite how inflammatory it may FEEL to be told you’re responsible for any form of discrimination, think back to this and remind yourself; you aren’t guilty of being a jerk, but as part of a group that has historically been made up of jerks, you have the opportunity to use your social power to make things better. You can be a super hero! And who doesn’t want that??

Be Patient With And Forgive Yourself (But Don’t Rest on Your Laurels Either):

This is probably the hardest one for anyone who prides themselves on being a progressive, accepting person. Let’s face it, if you’re anything like me, your first instinct when being called on an unintentional micro-aggression is “What? Me? I’d NEVER!” followed by copious amounts of self-shaming and beating yourself up when you realize that you did in fact break one of your cherished values and act in an unbecoming way. I get it, believe me I do, but it’s important to remember two things; you’re a flawed, imperfect human, and our society conditions in us the worst responses. It’s far easier to be ignorant of one’s own privilege than it is to battle it every day, and when you do engage in this fight with your own subconscious, it often isn’t a far slide into self-loathing once you realize how deeply engrained social programming truly is. It’s important to always forgive yourself for your unintentional micro-aggressions, and in so doing treat them as opportunities to educate yourself and do better. We will ALL make mistakes, because to err is human, but as the best teachers would say, a mistake is a teachable moment. Only the ignorant fool, when faced with the opportunity to learn and do better, embraces his mistake proudly. Likewise, the definition of insanity is knowing that something doesn’t work, but continuing to do it anyway hoping for a different result. Don’t be this person. Learn from your mistakes; they don’t define you, but they can help you be a better human and ally.

This is by no means an exhaustive list on how to be the best ally, nor is it (as I mentioned earlier) intended to be. Because I hope it’s become obvious by now; constantly resisting our own internal privilege and social conditioning isn’t easy, nor are we going to be perfect and never slip up. That doesn’t mean, however, that the struggle isn’t worth pursuing. Fighting for both our own rights and the rights of others as full human beings in this society is a moral obligation we all share, whether one does it softly or loudly. By following these five recommendations, we can all be both better allies, and better humans overall. And trust me, as a member of the neurodiversity community, I’m far more likely to respect someone who tries to be a good ally, follows these tenets and occasionally stumbles than I am to respect a proudly ignorant bigot any day. The same, I suspect, is true of members of many other oppressed and marginalized groups. We all make mistakes, but come to us humbly with the genuine desire to be a good human, and it will amaze you what we can accomplish together.

As always, yours in diversity,

Adam Michael

"Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations": Sulu's Sexuality and Why I Respectfully Disagree With George Takei (Only This Once!)

Before I begin this rant, I just want to say one thing; I dislike Star Trek 2009. It’s not that it’s a bad movie to be sure – it and its sequel Star Trek Into Darkness were rollicking good times at the movies during which I thoroughly enjoyed myself. That being said, however, in my opinion they didn’t feel like Star Trek. For a series which has always been so focused on exploration, pushing boundaries, seeking new life and new civilizations, and understanding the human condition, the new movies felt so very action-y. Because of this, I was overjoyed to see that, just in time for Star Trek’s 50^th anniversary, the team behind the upcoming Star Trek Beyond had chosen to embrace the true spirit of Star Trek in a very important way. The writers of the new movie, in a move meant to honour both Gene Roddenberry’s vision of equality for all and actor/LGBT activist George Takei, made U.S.S. Enterprise helmsman Hikaru Sulu gay. And I for one couldn’t be happier!

Strangely, the loudest opposition to this has come not from the homophobes and their apologists, but from an unlikely source; George Takei himself! In a press release, he said that, while he is totally in favour of an LGBT character being introduced on Star Trek, he felt that making it one of the main cast threatens to undermine the thought Roddenberry put into each of his characters. Indeed, the debate got so intense that Simon Pegg, who both wrote the new movie and stars in it as Scotty, wrote his own rebuttal, in which he states that, for one, this is an alternate universe, and for two, it had to be an existing character so as not to embrace tokenism and reduce a new character to their sexuality. In essence, Pegg wanted to mirror on the big screen what is a common occurance for many in the real world; finding out a close friend or family member is gay, and not having it change one’s opinion of another in any way.

Frankly, I’m a big fan of Simon Pegg’s justification for choosing Sulu since it serves as an example of just how important it is to not reduce any human down to a label. In fact, this is an important message not just for the LGBT community but also for the Neurodiversity community as well. Mental health and neurological difference are both still so stigmatized in our world that, for every person who is evidently and obviously different, there are so many others of us who manage to fly beneath the radar. For those of us able to pass as neurotypical and, as Elsa says in Disney’s Frozen, “conceal, don’t feel,” there can be just as much of a feeling of living in the closet as for anyone who is gay. People come to know us a certain way, accept us a certain way, and may not be aware that there is anything different about us. This all, of course, comes crashing to a halt in many cases when the truth is revealed. All of a sudden, the label becomes all that many people can see, and they neglect any of the other strengths of character that may define us far more than a single diagnostic word. For this reason, I have to disagree with George Takei; Sulu is absolutely the perfect choice for an LGBT crew member, and Simon Pegg’s portrayal of it in script – that it’s no big deal and no one bats an eye or cares – is so critically important. It does what Star Trek does best; it shows us the best of humanity and what is possible when we embrace love and reject hate. This is why it is so important that this not simply be an aspect of the Kelvin Timeline Sulu and not also his prime originator; after all, it’s much more poignant for the audience to have gotten to know this character for 50 years before finding out about his sexual orientation, since it allows people to judge him on his merits as a character, not strictly on his sexuality. It does a great deal to enhance the character and convey an important point about labels not defining us as humans. While I’ve been lucky to have many accepting friends and family, I dream of the day when this is true for those of us who are neurodivergent as well.

Mr. Takei, don’t take this the wrong way; I have been, and always shall be, a big fan of yours. You defined the character of Hikaru Sulu and bravely stood against racism in the process at a time when the Japanese were still freshly coming off of being one of the United States’ biggest enemies. Your presence on the bridge of the starship Enterprise normalized people of all different races and ethnicities working together. With your hard work, Hikaru Sulu was able to boldly go where no one had gone before, and this is work you have continued in your real life struggle for LGBT equality. In many ways, sexual orientation is the new racism (even though the old racism has hardly gone away), and your former character is the perfect ambassador for not just those who are gay, but for all of us striving for greater acceptance and equality for who we truly are. Let Star Trek continue the work that you began all those years ago, and let Hikaru Sulu continue to point the way ahead both in terms of human rights and from the navigation console of the Enterprise’ bridge.

After all, to quote an ancient Vulcan proverb; infinite diversity in infinite combinations.  

As always, yours in said infinite diversity,

Adam Michael

Tragedy in Orlando: Why Words And Ideas Carry Weight And Social Responsibility

Today's post isn't strictly about Neurodiversity, but it does relate to that theme in a more general sense. As I'm sure you've all heard by now, Orlando, Florida has played host to one of the most violent gun crimes in the history of the United States, if not North America as a whole. Fifty people were gunned down by an extremist with an assault rife at a gay club, all because they dared to be who they were and embrace it publicly. According to some unconfirmed reports, it all went down because the shooter found the sight of two gay men kissing to be "abhorrent."

Whoa.

I think it's safe to say that we're all outraged by this flagrant disregard for human life. In our haste to condemn it as a tragedy, however, let's not turn a blind eye to the toxic soup of social and religious factors that made this shooting a possibility to begin with. To paraphrase a wonderful Facebook post that has been making the rounds this morning, the physical bullets that were fired by the gunner at fifty innocent members of the LGBTQ community and their allies at the bar were made possible by the ideological and philosophical bullets that conservatives, religious fundamentalists, and other hate-filled extremists have been flinging at the gay, bi, transgendered, pansexual, intersex and related communities for years. Because you can't say bigoted things about those whose sexual orientation and gender identies are anything but straight and cisgendered on the one hand and condemn an act like this on the other. It doesn't work like that.

While the victims in this case were part of the LGBTQ community, this kind of tragedy has a very real possibility of occurring to any oppressed and marginalized group. Any time society pushes certain groups to the fringes, uses religion and social policy to diminish the value of their existences, pathologizes them, and otherwise perpetuates hate against them, we dehumanize people. And to use a rather extreme example, Nazi Germany taught us historically that, whenever others are dehumanized, it becomes that much easier to justify violence against them. This is never okay, and we need to realize that hate-filled political, religious, and social statements are no longer merely opinions; they are the currency by which we as a society purchase violent massacres and allow them to occur.

We here at Differently Wired stand with our brothers, sisters, and siblings of non-binary gender in the LBGTQ community in our opposition to hate and intolerance. We know as well as they the difficulties of living within socially defined boxes that don't suit us, the liberation of coming out in defiance of said boxes and smashing them with our efforts to feel pride and happiness with who we are, and the stigma we face when we encounter others in the world who just don't get it. Because far beyond the "Neuro" prefix, on a more fundamental level Differently Wired has, and always will, stand for "Diversity" in all its forms. We are none of us perfect, after all, but we are all perfectly who we are meant to be.

We stand in solidarity with anyone who is gay, bi, pansexual, transgendered, intersex and others, and with all the victims of this horrible tragedy. Let's work to ensure it never happens again.

As always, yours in Diversity,

Adam Michael

Labels

I am not a label. I know this sounds like a common sense thing to say. I realize that we are constantly imbued with messages that tell us that we are each individuals and that we need to rise to the challenge of individuality in this society. The thing is though, it is most definitely, NOT a common sense thing to declare, for if it was, we wouldn’t constantly be seeking to label and control others based on who we perceive them to be due to a few arbitrarily assigned words. That we think we can do this with any degree of efficacy is in itself an absurd proposition.

We’ve all been labelled throughout our lives. Here are a couple of mine: aspergers, nerd, geek, dork, loser, epileptic, asthmatic, introverted, socialist, and the list goes on. Some of these, I’ve been assigned by others, some of them I have claimed for myself. Regardless, despite where they have come from and the associated emotional baggage that comes with all of them, none of them tell the whole story of who I am as a person. Each word attempts to paint a whole picture of who someone is while lacking ninety percent of the puzzle pieces needed to complete the image. Doing this to someone...ANYONE...is dangerous because you are reducing the beauty and complexity of a full, sentient human being down to a few descriptor words at best. How can that do anything but remove someone’s sense of agency and self worth in the process?

Rather than use this piece as merely a polemic about the dangers of labels, however, I’m going to actually SHOW you, dear reader, how incomplete a picture they present, by using my own life as an example. Rather than assign me or anyone else a label, let’s instead try to remember some of their worth as a human being. Instead of thinking of me merely as a case of mild, high-functioning Aspergers, consider the fact that I have experienced terrible bullying and yet still manage to approach life with a positive and happy attitude, or that I am an accomplished writer, with a Master’s degree in History and a Bachelor of Education. When you call me a dork or a nerd, remember that I am also a loving older brother to three younger siblings, with whom video games were often a source of bonding. Even in terms of the positive labels I’ve embraced, they only go so far. Instead of leaving it at calling me a socialist, recognize that I’m also a neurodiversity activist, a supporter and ally of the feminist and LGBTQ movements and a full believer in sexual positivism as a force for good in our society. Basically, instead of counting me and countless others as mere numbers, members of the faceless masses of humanity, take a moment to get to know us. Everyone deserves the chance to be known as a human first and foremost.

To label someone is to attempt to squeeze someone into a box they were never meant to fully fit in to begin with. It is an attempt to reduce the boundless wonders, talents, failings, triumphs, ugliness and flawed beauty that is any one member of the human species to a single descriptive word. It is, quite frankly, an insult to each and every human on this planet.

It is high time we started doing better. The time has come for us to start embracing each other as members of the human family, not merely words.

I know we can do it.

Yours in Diversity,

Adam Michael

I Am Aspie, Hear Me ROAR!

This is a rant about Neurotypical Privilege. I’m not even going to try and sugar coat that. It’s a screaming declaration from behind the tiny bluetooth keyboard I’m using to write this, a fist-pounding exclamation of a desire to be taken seriously for being who I am, without having to hide any part of myself. For I am an Aspie; hear me roar!

Recently, I found myself voluntold to house sit for my parents while they were out of town, helping my sister get settled in for university. I woke up one morning and, my eyes groggy and clouded with sleep, proceeded to check my Facebook news feed as is my usual morning ritual. What I found there, however, incensed me to no end. One of the pages I follow on Facebook posted what can only be described as a fear-mongering piece of propaganda decrying the rising rates of autism as some sort of vaccine-induced epidemic.

I was livid.

See, normally when I come across this level of stupid, I dismiss it as being a symptom of the internet and leave it at that. I know all too well that it is often useless to try to engage in meaningful discussion and argument online, where people’s usual response to a well-structured and thoughtful forum post typically amounts to “Durr, u r gay! And Obama iz teh antichrist” (I am actually a big ally and supporter of the LGBTQ movement and I mean no disrespect at all...but this is typical interwebz stuff. Seriously, don’t ever read YouTube comments if you at all value your mental sanity.) This one was different however. I, as an Aspie, felt that the legitimacy of my very existence was being called into question, and I am nothing if not a fighter. I took a stand, wrote an angry, righteous comment on the thread then, satisfied that I had fought the good fight, proceeded downstairs for breakfast and gave it no second thought.

The responses I received to what I wrote were incredible! All day, comments and likes kept piling in, threatening to overwhelm my phone screen with so many Facebook notifications and red dots. Almost all of them were supportive and encouraging, and I can safely say I’ve made many new friends through this political action of mine. If anything though, it made me realize how prevalent Neurotypical Privilege is in our society. While I am eternally grateful for the supportive community I discovered entirely by accident online, it is telling that for every person who praised me, there were so many others who had already posted prior to my comment who were seemingly content to perpetuate fear and ignorance by treating ASD as a tragic disease destined to ruin humanity.

I hate that. I hate it so bloody much.

I want to pose a question to some of the more ignorant Neurotypical people out there. Now, I personally have nothing against anyone’s brain wiring or any other condition of their existence; we are all human after all, and we’ve all got our strengths that we want to brag about and our weaknesses that we would rather hide. Such is life. That being said, however, have any of you ever been afraid to reveal a certain side of yourself, whether at work or among friends and family for fear that you would suddenly be thought of as somehow less than human? I can guarantee that almost every member of the human race has experienced this in some form or another, but it happens among those of us who are neurodiverse far too often as well. I am an assistant manager at a medium-sized Canadian telecommunications company, and I can tell you straight up, that not a day goes by that I don’t fear someone among my superiors finding out that I’m anything but Neurotypical. The problem is, the mainstream media and society have built up an idea that anyone who is neurodiverse is either to be pitied and helped at best or feared at worst. I’ve always struggled with that, and as a child and teenager, I didn’t want to associate with the label of Aspergers for quite some time. What I didn’t realize then but do now is that this was born from wanting to be judged by my merits, not by my label. In short, I was the victim of privilege.

So I’m going to take the opportunity in this rant to spell out what I want, as someone who is Neurodiverse. I recognize that this isn’t comprehensive or reflective of everyone’s distinct experiences, but hopefully it will help shed some light as someone who actually lives with Aspergers:

1. I want to be judged not by my neurology but by the content of my character.
2. I want recognition that I have weaknesses yes, but so does every human. It doesn’t define them, so it shouldn’t define me.
3. I want people to realize that along with those weaknesses come immeasurable strengths and talents. I am a writer, activist, creative person and all around geek, and there are many others with equally diverse talents and abilities.
4. I want people to STOP TRYING TO CURE US! Seriously, I recognize that there are people on the spectrum who are severely hindered by their conditions, and they should absolutely receive assistance in maximizing their strengths and working on their weaknesses, but ASD is a spectrum for a reason. From low functioning to high functioning, the whole aim of the Neurodiversity movement is that we all deserve to have the same respect and dignity as everyone else for existing AS WE ARE. ASD is an integral part of who we are as people...you can’t cure it without killing the patient in the process on a fundamental level. We need support and love, not smug superiority and a desire for neurological genocide. (Because wanting to wipe out a whole personality type just because its inconvenient and doesn’t comply with the norm? That’s what that is!)
5. I want people to recognize that diversity is okay, and that having a variety of neurological variants of the human brain can only be a good thing for the human race.
6. Finally, I want people to see us as HUMAN BEINGS. FULL, EQUAL HUMAN BEINGS! I don’t want to be pitied for having Aspergers, or to have to hide it from others and try to pass as neurotypical lest someone assume I am incompetent and stall any attempts at career or social advancement I make. We ALL have a right to have our common humanity recognized, loved and respected.

Privilege hurts us all, even those who benefit from it, because it divides us as a species and trains us to see the world in terms of “us and them.” No viewpoint could be more harmful, as it diminishes the fact that we are all in fact one species. Autism, Aspergers and any other condition considered to be neurodiverse are as natural in terms of human variation as skin colour, sexual orientation, gender, eye colour, hair colour, body size and any other characteristics which ensure that each human being is unique. None of these would exist had they not provided some evolutionary advantage to our species, and ASD is no different. Rather than attempt to change those we do not understand and force them to fit into a tiny neurotypical box, lets instead throw the box out all together, hold hands and help each other along. For we are all human first.

Yours in Diversity,

Adam Michael

Depression and Mental Health: A Post in Honour of Robin Williams and a Dear Friend...

Greetings to all you Aspies and allies out there in interweb land! Today, my original plan was to write about something else entirely, but in light of a few developments recently, there’s another important issue I feel the need to address in a special column of this blog. As you are all no doubt aware, recently the prominent comedian and actor Robin Williams committed suicide after a long battle with depression. Indeed, this was a tragedy, and I’m sure I speak for many when I say that the world will miss his manic sense of humour. Through this, many have taken to the internet to raise awareness for mental health and depression-related causes. This is a fantastic thing, but this is ultimately not my motivation for writing tonight. No, my reason is far more personal; you see, just this week, a dear friend of mine also committed suicide after a long battle with depression and other mental health issues.

The friend in question (henceforth referred to as M) wasn’t one of my closest friends, nor was she someone I saw on a regular basis, but she was always someone I got along well with and whose company I thoroughly enjoyed when we did finally find moments to spend together. In light of this, despite knowing that she’d struggled with depression since long before we met, I found myself deeply saddened by her loss. M was a transgendered individual, and one with a long history of being shunned and having to make it on her own without help. Perhaps one of the things I find most haunting about her tragic life story was that much of her misery was caused by the judgments and criticisms of others. Being a member of the transgendered community, while being far less understood than Aspergers, shares that one common element with our own scene; there is an overwhelming lack of correct information and understanding among people. Yes, friends, this is indeed the dark side of being born anything but typical; in fact its commonly known that LGBT youth have one of the highest suicide rates of any demographic, and its due in no small part to the judgments of others and lack of acceptance. I can’t help but feel like if there were more love in this world, my friend, Robin Williams, and the countless others who fall victim to depression each year would still be with us.

Despite this, we must resist the urge to oversimplify the situation. Depression is, after all, an illness. It can no more be willed away with happy thinking than a broken leg can be mended with faith healing. It requires treatment, hard work, understanding and support from all those involved for any individual to make a recovery, and many don’t ever fully do so. For these people, depression is very much like epilepsy or asthma; a condition one lives with on a daily basis. Those suffering with depression and other mental health issues do not need our condescension, nor do they need our well-meaning yet overbearing attempts at help; often times, they just need friends to stand by them and prove to them that, despite what the evil little voice of depression is whispering in their ears, people do in fact love them. As I’ve thought about it over the past few days, I’ve come to the conclusion that I wish I had done this more for M than I did. Even if it meant that long-discussed sushi outing. 

Friends, I realize this is merely one blog entry in a sea of mental health awareness articles, but I felt it was important to share on this site. Being neurodiverse often carries with it the stigma of being different or broken, along with the many tears and frustration such labels bring. Though the idea of being broken couldn’t be farther from the truth, its not always easy to realize that when one is living through a rather nightmarish situation. It’s important that we stand together and help lift each other out of the dark places if and when we fall close to them. Only through education and mutual support like this are we going to make the world a better place.

And now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go play some Super Smash Bros: Project M…in honour of the aforementioned individual with the same initial. She was a huge geek and gamer, and I feel like she would appreciate this.

As always, yours in diversity!

Adam Michael