Diagnosed as autistic at the age of 51, I still feel like an outsider in the autistic community. Not because of internalised ableism. Not because I don’t believe I’m autistic. But because I don’t see me in other late diagnosed autistic women.
Now, don’t get me wrong. I know that autism is different for every autistic person. But what if…
What if my adoptive parents inadvertently gave me supports, because of their social, cultural and aspirational expectations?
In context, my adoptive father was born in 1917. My adoptive mother was born in 1920. He was born into a large family, already entrenched in Australia. She was born into a large family who had migrated from Scotland to Australia in the early 1910s.
They grew up during the roaring 1920s and the Great Depression. He went to war in World War II. She was a nurse caring for soldiers sent back from the Papua New Guinea and Coral Sea fronts. He had malaria. She was his nurse.
They married in 1942, and had a son, Warren, in 1947. So their child-raising experience was from the late 1940s, in a world reeling, some countries still on rations, the 1950s and the 1960s. The social expectations on young men and women were very different, compared to what they experienced growing up, to parenting their own son.
Warren, their son, died in a car accident in 1967. They adopted me five years later, as a baby, in 1972.
Here we have a couple, still grieving their son, and maybe determined not to make the same mistakes, to do better. Their idea of a well-behaved young lady was shaped by what they experienced, themselves, as children, and in bringing up Warren. The 1920s, the 1950s and the 1970s, all coming together in that home at that time. Coming together at that time and centred on an autistic girl, in a time when autism was barely recognised in boys, let alone girls.
I have a strong suspicion, a hypothesis, if you will, that their ideas about what a young lady needed to know were actually inadvertent supports for their autistic daughter.
From the age of about 4 to 13, I attended ballet classes, speech and drama classes, piano lessons and singing lessons.
Were 1970s speech and drama classes and singing a good substitute for the speech pathology of today?
Were 1970s ballet classes and piano a good substitute for the occupational and physical therapy of today?
Did their expectation of raising a young lady with grace, poise and refinement actually help their undiagnosed autistic daughter with social skills, communication, coordination and emotional expression?
ChatGPT’s perspective
Engaging in activities like ballet, speech and drama, piano, and singing could have provided valuable benefits to girls with undiagnosed autism across different time periods, including the 1800s to the 1990s. Here’s how:
Structured Routine: The structured nature of these activities could have provided a sense of predictability and routine, which can be comforting and beneficial for individuals with autism who often thrive in structured environments.
Sensory Integration: Many autistic individuals experience sensory sensitivities or differences. Activities like ballet and music can help with sensory integration, providing opportunities to explore and manage sensory inputs in a controlled setting.
Social Skills Development: While the social expectations may have varied depending on the time period, engaging in group activities like ballet or drama would have still provided opportunities for social interaction, turn-taking, following instructions, and working collaboratively—all of which are important social skills.
Emotional Expression: Creative activities such as singing, piano, and drama allow for emotional expression in a safe and supportive environment. This can be especially beneficial for individuals with autism who may struggle with verbal communication or expressing emotions.
Self-Confidence: Mastery of skills in these activities can boost self-esteem and confidence, providing a sense of accomplishment and identity outside of potential social challenges.
While these activities might not have been specifically tailored for autism support, their inherent structure, sensory components, social interactions, and emotional outlets could have indeed provided meaningful support and development for girls with undiagnosed autism during those times.
I would also add competing in the local eisteddfod – in speech and drama, singing and piano – for several years as a self-esteem and confidence booster.
So despite all the difficulties my adoptive parents had, and the intergenerational issues we had, did they accidentally, inadvertently, do the best things possible at the time for the daughter that they didn’t know was autistic?
If so, way back in the 1800s, or even earlier, in English society, did the social mores of the time, for boys and girls, inadvertently give support to people with autistic brains, even though we didn’t know about autism back then?
Is modern society making it harder to be autistic than ever before?
The Auld Skald's Fudgel 