Cayla Stroud’s Final Examination

Intersection of Autism and Race

In Morenike Giwa- Onaiwu’s Autistics of Color: We exist We Matter someone asked her the question, “Autism is Autism right? Does race really matter?” Her argument was that the impression was becoming seemingly apparent that disability, in particular Autism, was overlooked and seen as a  collective experience, not interested with the intersection of race, gender, or sexuality. Furthermore that the discussion of race as it pertains to autism is silenced. It is of great importance that we are to examine the lives affected by both the impact of race and disability matters. Moreover, when one is asked to “simplify” themselves or experiences it is an attempt to invalidate one’s identity and voice. 

I’d like to start by breaking down the frequent statement that was made by Giwa-Onaiwu’s friends, colleagues, neighbors and people who care about her have asked, “Autism is Autism right? Does race really matter?” (Giwa-Onaiwu x). First Autism is not just Autism, there is a spectrum. As John Sinclair stated in “Don’t Mourn For Us”, “Autism is a way of being. It is pervasive; as it colors every experience, every sensation, perception, thought, emotion, and encounter, every aspect of existence”. Which speaks to the notion that the Autism spectrum has a broad set of experiences, that each individual experiences differently. With this being said it is best to ask someone, how he/she prefers to be addressed, as Autistic people are capable of communicating and understanding. As DJ Savarese mentions in his piece “Communicate with me” where he describes his subjective experience with Autism and how people can freely talk to him. It is also important to see Autistic people as whole, with an identity, and not disconnecting their identity from themselves. As Autism is commonly believed to be a disease in which, if it were to be reversable a person would then be a different, “normal” person. As John Sinclair writes, Autism is not a “shell” that a person is trapped inside and there is no “normal” person hidden behind Autism. To rid someone of disability is ultimately a way to dehumanize, erase, and diminish that individual.  

To further break down the statement, “Autism is Autism right? Does race really matter?” Not everyone’s experiences as it pertains to race is the same. As Onaiwu’ spoke about her experience from childhood,

 “I remember helplessly trying to explain to my biracial cousin why I didn’t ‘have it easier’ than her merely because I was monoracial … Her assumption was that I was ‘luckier’  than her because I looked ‘black’… because I ‘looked apart’. I was supposed to automatically understand and be fluent in all these random aspects of life attributed to black American culture” (Giwa-Onaiwu xiv).

As Giwa-Onaiwu suggested the particular contention with how a person is viewed within a particular minority. Also,  how her white counterparts would deem her credible to know every aspect of African American culture even though she did not and was, but in the African American community she was considered “not black enough” because of her speech and mannerisms. Employing that she was supposed to inherently eat a certain way, dress a certain way, and act a certain way in order to be seen as black. When the real reality is, there is no singular way to be any race and experiences are different from individual to individual. 

In addition, she is also Autistic, as she felt there was no place of belonging, others understanding her, or accepting her. It was as she said, she was in a minority group within a minority group within a minority group. Explaining that her experience with her race and disability was just another barrier for her to find her place in society. Which is why the intersect of Autism and race have everything to do with one another.

It is an ableist view of disability to think that disability is no way intertwined with race, furthermore as Giwa-Onaiwu explained it is an obscure reality of their own intrinsic privilege with regard to race and ability (Gina-Onaiwu xi). That once an individual ignores those factors you are then not focusing on the subtitle differences that a person faces within a minority group, within a minority group, within a minority group. As Onaiwu stated, “We –those of us who exist at the intersection of disability and race aren’t treated as if we are real” (Gina-Onaiwu xii). She explains that the factors that affect those who are at the intersection of race and disability are paid little concern to. It is a grave injustice to separate the very aspects of someones lived experiences, while one can experience them simultaneously. 

As E. Ashkenazy offers ways to address these issues and bring them to the forefront she offers the most valuable source of advice to “Listen to and welcome the stories and insights that autistic people of color have to share with us” (Ashkenazy xxxviii). Because not all Autistics share the same shared experiences and nor do people of color. Because in this way, it is a way to shed light on culture, home lives, family, and the lived experiences of who people are at the intersection of disability and race and not base broad and ignorant assumptions on others. In addition, as Ashkenazy emphasizes it is our social responsibility to ask people how they identify, instead of assuming and getting to know people instead of clumping them into one category (Ashkenazy xxxix). It is being able to slow down and think about the stereotypes and misunderstanding that we are perpetuating, because it can lead to insightful and meaningful conversation embracing the mixed and intricacies of autistic people of color.

Works Cited 

Brown, Lydia X. Z., and Morénike Giwa-Onaiwu. “Autistics of Color: We Exist…We Matter.” All the Weight of Our Dreams: on Living Racialized Autism, DragonBee Press, 2017, pp. X-xxii.

Sinclair, Jim. “Don’t Mourn for Us..” Autonomy, the Critical Journal of Interdisciplinary Autism Studies [Online], 1.1 (2012): n. pag. Web. 2 May. 2019


Savarese, DJ. “Communicate with Me.” Disability Studies Quarterly, 2010, dsq-sds.org/article/view/1051/1237.

Word count: 1006

I Pledge, on my honor.

Crooks, Isolation, and the Intersection between Race and Disability

In John Steinbeck’s Of Mice and Men, the primary disabled figure is Lennie, a physically strong character with an intellectual disability. However, the secondary character of Crooks offers the perspective of a character marginalized not only by physical disability, but racial prejudice. Crooks’ response to isolation is to reclaim the site of his isolation as his own space, free from invasion by those who cast him out.

Crooks has a small shed off of the barn where he keeps his things and spends much of his time, avoiding the rest of the workers. He stays here alone, and the narrator describes him as a “proud, aloof man” who “kept his distance and demanded that others keep theirs” (Steinbeck 66). However, the narrative implies that his pride in his loner status is a response to the ableist and racist exile forced on him by the other workers. When Lennie, Slim, and Candy all end up visiting him, Crooks tries “to conceal his pleasure with anger,” implying that his pride, anger, and protectiveness of his own space are a defense mechanism (Steinbeck 73). Crooks explains on multiple occasions that the other workers won’t let him in the bunk house because he’s black. Even though both Candy and Crooks have lived on the farm for years due to their disabilities, racial prejudice keeps them apart, as Crooks cannot come into the bunk house and “guys don’t come into a colored man’s room very much” (Steinbeck 73). Isolated from the white community of the bunk house, Crooks tries to occupy himself with the solitary pursuits of horseshoes and reading, but even he admits to Lennie that the lack of companionship is bad for his mental health.

Crooks’ isolation from any support network is damaging to his mental health, a fact he acknowledges himself. When talking to Lennie, he says that “a guy goes nuts if he ain’t got nobody…don’t make no difference who the guy is, long’s he’s with you,” drawing a direct comparison to George’s assertion that he and Lennie are going to be okay because they have each other (Steinbeck 71). Crooks even goes so far as to describe himself as “sick,” describing how he sees things and isn’t sure if they were real or not without another person to verify it for him (Steinbeck 71). Despite his reluctance to invite people in or talk to the people who exclude him, Crooks pours his heart out to Lennie once he realizes that the combination of Lennie’s poor memory and his own marginalized status as a disabled black man means what he says will likely never get out (Steinbeck 69). Crooks claims that the specific companion doesn’t matter, since all he needs is someone to make sure he isn’t hallucinating, but his resistance when Lennie innocently invades his space and his delight when he realizes that Lennie isn’t a reliable witness (thus meaning he couldn’t check whether Crooks is hallucinating, the reason Crooks claims to want a companion) belies that sentiment.

Crooks’ relationship to others is complicated, shaped by years of prejudice and isolation. As a disabled man denied a support system due to racism, even the companionship of a fellow disabled man who lives and works on the same farm, Crooks turns to pride and self-reliance for survival. When speaking to Lennie and believing he can be vulnerable without Lennie repeating it back to anyone, he reveals that he knows the psychological toll his isolation causes, but his pride won’t allow him to tell anyone else. After all, his loneliness is not self-imposed, and abandoning these coping mechanisms won’t bring him a friend or companion. Crooks is bitter, proud, and aloof, but these aspects of his character are informed if not created by his status as a man at the intersection of two marginalized identities.

css.php