by Tess White
Infant/Toddler Special Educator
“Oh, you’ve got yourself a little rain girl. You know, cause she’s autistic.” That is what a friend of mine said to me when my now almost 13-year-old daughter, Erin, was little and had recently been diagnosed with autism. Perhaps well-intentioned, but her words so easily put my daughter into a box, defining her essence and mapping out her future like a carefully drawn outline at a crime scene. As empty as those outlines are they define moments and time, and produce meaning. A body laid here, not a person with a name.
Just last week, I noticed a road sign on Whidbey Island that read “Autistic Child Area” (pictured above). My mouth fell open. I gawked at the sign like an unexpected slap of the face. In reflection I know the sign was thought up and written down with what may have been the best of intentions. Somehow raising awareness of our children in a way that parallels the informational signs at a zoo. We forget sometimes, but our words define moments and produce meaning as well. We speak them, we write them down, and we say them again. And each time they etch paths for others to follow. As a mother of a child with autism, and a professional who works with children who have various developmental delays, I want to help build a new path.
Erin is not autistic. Erin is girl who has autism. When you look down and see that chalk outline so carefully drawn around her, I want you to erase it. I want you to put her personhood first.
It is not a question of whether or not Erin has autism. She does. It is part of her identity and she should be proud of it. But I want you to see all the parts of her that do not so neatly fit into what you or others may believe every child with autism is like. As individual as you and me, children with autism are individuals as well, each with unique personalities, desires, and ideas.
In honor of Autism Awareness month, I want to challenge you to think about the ways in which you and others use language about people with autism. Consider how your words or your friend’s words influence the ways we as a society think about people who have autism. Person-first language acknowledges the meanings that are developed and perpetuated from our words. “He’s autistic” is fundamentally different than “He has autism.”
Person-first language reminds us to truly put the person first. It challenges us to let go of our stereotypes and see people for all the things they are and want to be. Erin is a preteen. She is a chef. She is a dreamer. She is a daughter and a sister. She is beautiful. And she happens to have autism.
