Dr Paula Gazzard | @extraneous
Once upon a time my bio would be a discreetly self-aggrandising mini-CV written in the third person with a mug-shot taken in front of a book-case in clothing which communicates a little creative originality but not too much and looking suitably confident in my abilities. But my pension can’t fire me so what do I really think?
If asked for an identity I usually say: non-binary or neuroqueer depending on the likely comprehension of my interlocutor and/or the choices in a dropdown list. I don’t have any particular internalised identity and I no longer feel the need to pretend that I do. I do have a personality – that is, I can reasonably accurately predict my own reactions to different environments, individuals, and social contexts. This is obviously hugely informed by my positions in external socio-economic and medical taxonomies but it isn’t reducible to it. I like the dishwasher to be stacked rationally and resent my mind-map of every object in my orbit being disturbed, or being interrupted when I’m doing or thinking something else. I sleep when I drop. My clothing and interior decor reflect a combination of my own somewhat random taste with various sops to “appropriate” cultural identity markers. Keep the Aspidistra Flying!
When I’m in the world I’m a retired researcher with a PhD in queer theory and a former “portfolio career” in research, digital stuff, and cultural policy. People frequently complain of my lack of coherent identity which seems to be seen as a ‘deficit’. Other than pleasing neurotypical people, I’m not sure what I would want one for? Answers on a postcard …
Personal motto: “A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds” [Emerson]
Mastodon: https://lgbt.io/@extraneous
Bluesky: @extraneous.bsky.social
Graham Mead | @neuropleb
I think of myself as neurodivergent.
I prefer to identify – at least in part – as neurodivergent (rather than autistic) for a number of reasons.
My co-occurring conditions/diagnoses are co-constitutive and co-determining of my experiences. A conjoining of synaesthesia and being autistic results in a non-identical sensory world to that which would arise if I was only autistic.
Co-occurring Alice in Wonderland Syndrome, where perception is distorted, can provoke a loss, or fragmentation, of sense of self. https://www.bbc.co.uk/future/article/20230313-the-mystery-of-alice-in-wonderland-syndrome. These combining, co-occurring, experiences cannot be explained by my being autistic alone. Much has been abstracted if I identify as autistic.
The diagnostic criteria for autism have changed considerably during my lifetime, they will, inevitably, change again. I am not inclined to attach my identify to this shifting landscape (or the ever changing of theories of autism). I prefer an identity sourced from outside the pathologising confines of psychiatry/psychology.
I further identify as working-class neurodivergent. Most working-class who have sat at the table of middle-class dinner party will recognise the feelings of alienation of such situations. The combination of being working-class and neurodivergent are little explored in the literature.
In a spirit of solidarity with other neurodivergent folk, I choose to identify as neurodivergent.
One small caveat, I am not of the of the opinion that everything neurodivergent can be explained by neural processes alone. This is obviously open to interpretation and I, again, choose to identify as neurodivergent in the spirit of solidarity and act of resistance.
Twitter: @twillierod