avatarJillian Enright

Summary

The article discusses the struggles of masking and code-switching, particularly among neurodiverse individuals, and the impact of societal expectations on personal identity.

Abstract

The author, Jillian Enright, reflects on the personal and societal challenges faced by individuals who engage in code-switching and masking, particularly those with neurodiversity. While acknowledging a lack of personal experience with racism, the author draws parallels between the struggles of race-based prejudice and those encountered due to sexism, ableism, and neurodivergence. The piece highlights the differences between code-switching, which is contextual behavior adjustment, and masking, which is the suppression of one's neurodivergent traits to conform to neurotypical norms. Referencing a well-received article by Synthia Stark and personal experiences, Enright delves into the psychological toll of these practices and the societal structures that enforce them, such as neuronormativity and internalized ableism. The author emphasizes the importance of authentic connections with others who share similar experiences and the liberating effect of unmasking one's true self, especially in a society predominantly designed for able-bodied, neurotypical individuals.

Opinions

  • The author believes that code-switching and masking, while sometimes adaptive, can be exhausting and harmful, especially when they involve suppressing one's authentic self for acceptance.
  • There is a critical view of so-called behavior modification therapies, like Applied Behavior Analysis (ABA), suggesting they are harmful and based on the flawed expectation of neuronormativity.
  • The author expresses that societal structures, particularly those that favor wealthy white males and neurotypical individuals, marginalize those who do not fit these norms, leading to systemic issues like ableism and internalized ableism.
  • The article conveys the importance of finding community and meaningful relationships with individuals who share similar experiences, as this can be healing and affirming for one's identity.
  • The author advocates for a society that is more inclusive and accommodating of neurodiversity, challenging the current status quo that often leads to discrimination and exclusion in employment and social settings.

STRUGGLES

Masking and Code Switching

Finding common experience

Photo by Tamara Gak on Unsplash

I will preface this by saying that I have absolutely zero personal understanding of what it’s like to experience racism, or to experience prejudice based on race, colour, or ethnicity. I am a caucasian person living in Canada.

I do have experience with sexism and ableism, which are not the same but share some commonalities, and those common experiences are what I wish to explore.

Not the same

Code switching and masking are not the same thing.

The only real “code switching” I’ve never had to do was putting on my customer service face at work. Sure, we all engage in it to some degree, adjusting our behaviour slightly to fit the context.

This is very different from having to suppress the very essence of who you are for your own safety, or to make others feel more comfortable.

Code Switching

I recently read a very well-written and insightful piece about the allure and fatigue of code-switching, by Medium writer Synthia Stark. As good writing does, it got me thinking.

Code-switching involves adjusting one’s style of speech, appearance, behaviour, and mannerisms in ways that will increase the comfort of others in exchange for fair treatment.

In her story, Synthia referred to behavioural adjustment in the corporate world. Most of us have done this: we typically behave much differently in a business meeting or in a customer service role than we would with our family around the dinner table, or when we’re having a glass of wine with our best friend.

To some degree, such as in the situation above where we put on a “professional” face at work, code-switching can be adaptive. The problem is that “normal” (which simply refers to the majority) is the expectation, which leaves little or no room for those of us who don’t (and can’t) fit inside that threshold.

When this expectation is taken to its extreme people develop racist, xenophobic, prejudiced, and ableist ideals.

For people with disabilities, these expectations can result in people being mistreated in the name of “teaching”. For example, the prevalent use of harmful therapies that try to force neurodiverse children to suppress and ignore much of their neurobiology, using rewards and punishments to essentially force people to behave as “normal” as possible.

This subject is an entire book unto itself, so I won’t delve further into it, but there is solid research demonstrating the harmful effects of so-called behaviour modification “therapies”, or Applied Behaviour Analysis (ABA).

Every day, neurodiverse people are called to task for behaviours that are hardwired into our brains, or behaviours that are extremely helpful for us, yet others perceive as “abnormal”, “disruptive”, or “unprofessional”.

Some examples:

  • ND employees are often reprimanded for being “unprofessional” because their communication style is straightforward, honest, and direct.
  • Children with ADHD are shamed and punished in schools because they cannot sit still and “focus”. Many are told they just need to try harder, as if they can simply will their neurodevelopmental disorder away.
  • People with disabilities are regularly denied employment because companies are not knowledgeable, nor willing to provide basic accommodations.
  • Meanwhile, mental health related disabilities are the most common among youth aged 15 to 24 years.

Unfortunately, Statistics Canada lumps neurodiversity in with mental health issues and learning disorders, of which they are neither, although ND and mental health issues are highly co-morbid.

Masking

In June, I wrote about the potential harmful effects of masking our neurodivergence. In the neurodivergent community, we conceptualize masking as hiding the outward traits of our divergent brains in order to fit in with the neurotypical majority of society.

This is also very exhausting. “Pretending” to be neurotypical is, in effect, constantly suppressing much of our authentic selves in order to fit in and to make people in the neurotypical majority feel more comfortable. This is a form of societal ableism, as well as internalized ableism.

Internalized ableism occurs when this ableism becomes so ingrained those of us with disabilities view ourselves as less-than, because society has taught us that painful lesson over and over again.

Our society is set up to primarily benefit wealthy white males, because historically it has been rich white men who have held positions of power, setting policy and making decisions to benefit themselves first and foremost.

Society is also designed to serve able-bodied, neurotypical people. The assumption that being neurotypical is superior to being neurodivergent is referred to as neuronormativity.

It is estimated that approximately 22% of Canadians identify as having a disability. While that may not sound like a large percentage, that amounted to more than 6 million people based on Canada’s population in 2017, and would total an estimated 8 million people based on our 2021 population.

Connecting the Dots

In our two different yet similar stories, Synthia and I both wrote about the freeing feeling of spending meaningful time with people similar to ourselves, and how these connections can help us feel better about our own identifies.

In my recent story about masking (and finally beginning the long, arduous process of unmasking), I wrote about finally finding my first close friendships wherein I can finally be my true, authentic self and never feel judged, looked down upon, or rejected.

I’m nearly 40 years old and this is the first time in my life I can say I have a meaningful friendship in which I know who I am and feel valued for who I really am. A big reason for that is these friends are the first who actually know who I really am, because I have only begun to discover and show my true self — whoever that is.

© Jillian Enright, Neurodiversity MB

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Disclaimer

This article is solely for informational purposes and represents the writer’s personal opinion. Please seek professional advice if required.

References

Arim, R. 2017. A Profile of Persons with Disabilities Among Canadians Aged 15 Years or Older, 2012. Statistics Canada Catalogue no. 89–654-X2015001. Ottawa: Statistics Canada.

Bertilsdotter, H. R., Chown, N., Stenning, A. (2020). Neurodiversity Studies: A New Critical Paradigm. Routledge.

McRuer, Robert. (2006). Crip Theory: Cultural Signs of Queerness and Disability. NYU Press.

Sandoval-Norton, A.H., Shkedy, G. & Shkedy, D. (2021). Long-term ABA Therapy Is Abusive: A Response to Gorycki, Ruppel, and Zane. Advances in Neurodevelopmental Disorders 5, 126–134. https://doi.org/10.1007/s41252-021-00201-1.

Statistics Canada. (2017). Canadian Survey on Disability. Retrieved July 18, 2021 from Statistics Canada: https://www150.statcan.gc.ca/n1/pub/89-654-x/89-654-x2018002-eng.htm.

Psychology
Mental Health
Neurodiversity
Adhd
Autism
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