Harmful Ignorance
I graduated high school almost a year and a half ago. Since the time I started high school in 2020, autism has become quite the topic. We see new statistics every two years with increasing rates, going from 1 in 44 in 2018 to 1 in 36 in 2020 to 1 in 31 in 2022. When I was in high school, as each year passed, I heard the word “autism” or “autistic” more and more, mostly in the hallways. To me, the increased mention of autism in my small, local high school, parallels societal shifts toward autism. Nowadays, autism is in most people’s vocabulary for a variety of reasons. Some are good, others not so much. Why is autism so “popular?” I will not address that in depth today; however, the three main assumptions are 1) increased awareness, 2) expansion of criteria, and 3) misdiagnosis (yes, I know this is highly debatable). Here is an interesting tid-bit of information. When you think back about ten years ago, autism was not mentioned nearly as much as it is today. Instead, ADHD filled that slot. In comparing ASD and ADHD trends, specifically the number of references to each diagnosis in contemporary literature, data shows ADHD leveling off while autism continues to increase (Antshel & Russo, 2019, Figure 1). I do not want to become overly controversial in this blog, so I am not going to advocate for whether autism is an “it” diagnosis or not. The reason I bring up its growing atmosphere is to set the stage for some very real issues. Issues present in my small community and most certainly in larger cities and throughout our nation.
I am going to begin with a bold claim: unless you have a clinical diagnosis of Autism Spectrum Disorder from a licensed psychologist, a neurologist, or a developmental pediatrician, you should not say “I have autism.”
I realize I have already offended some people. Well, at least I can say I tried not to be controversial, even though it only lasted 2 sentences. But, let me explain my reasoning here. In claiming to have an autism diagnosis when one does not, they contribute to what I like to call harmful ignorance. Harmful ignorance represents the lack of information surrounding the complexity of autism and its challenges on the individual and their family. The more people claim to have autism, the more they empower others to do so. Kloey, are you suggesting autism is not something that should be heard? No! So, what do I mean?
When an undiagnosed person starts speaking about their “autism” when they are not sure they have it, it can start a chain reaction of marginalizing the autism diagnosis. If someone is “representing” autism to other people, or speaking about it flippantly, others get false impressions about what autism is. It distorts the perception of autism, leading to more stereotypes, misunderstanding, and misdiagnoses.
I do not want to deter people who may be struggling with real undiagnosed autism from believing in their disorder. Autism is very real, and very hard to live with. Here is my advice for you: research. Research autism, research your childhood, and research clinicians. The more knowledge you have about autism, the better. As for your childhood, remember that autism is a developmental disorder, so you have to have shown symptoms that disrupt daily living by age 6. Talk with your parents and other family members to find out what you were like as a child. Did they notice anything “odd”? Lastly, look for good clinicians. There are A LOT of places you can receive a diagnosis now, and there are people diagnosing who historically, have never been able to. Be wary. Stick to psychologists (PhD or PsyD), neurologists (MD/DO), and developmental or other specialist pediatricians (MD/DO). I know diagnosis can be expensive and testing is not always covered by insurances, but I highly recommend getting an official diagnosis, even if you do not think it will change your life, I promise you it will. Your identity development will thank you for it.
For those of us who have diagnoses, we too have to be careful about how we are representing our disorder. We create the narrative.
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Okay, so I said earlier that I was going to, and I quote, address “some very real issues.” I will do that now, I promise. (Man, talk about a tangent, or two. So sorry, you do not want to be in this brain.)
What I want to focus on today is the term I mentioned briefly above: harmful ignorance. I felt some background information was necessary to provide context, but lucky you, you received lots of background information. Consider yourselves extra blessed.
You may be wondering, what has finally gotten me out of my 6-month writing slump? A conversation with an eleven year-old. Let me explain. Let’s dive back to my memories of high school.
As you know, when I was in high school I heard a lot about “autism.” But, do you know what I heard on a weekly basis? “That’s the ‘tism in me” and “He’s got a touch of the ‘tism.” Have you heard similar things? I was hearing this everywhere, but I kept my head down. I was not nearly as passionate or skilled at self-advocating as I am now. Eventually, these words really got to me. I was so affected by them that I dedicated a page in my book, An Autistic’s Guide to Autism, to addressing this harmful misuse of autism. After graduating from high school and being removed from the school scene, I did not think about label distortion for quite some time. That is, until my 6th grade sister came home and shared what kids were saying at the middle school. She said the new “mean” thing to say is: “You’re so autistic” and “I knew you were autistic.”
Now, I consider myself pretty emotionally reserved, but at that moment I felt disgust. My first thoughts were ones of anger. If they knew! If they knew what it was like to live with autism, they would never, ever, say those words. The weight those words carry to an autistic is soul crushing. She continues to tell us that she hears some rendition of those phrases almost every day. As I said, my first reaction is anger, but soon that anger turns to sadness. I flashback to my school years when high schoolers were casually throwing around autism as an excuse, “Oh, it’s my autism” and then back to now, when middle schoolers are using the label just as freely, but as a weapon of hurt, “I knew you were autistic.”
I cannot keep my head down anymore like I did in high school. I have to speak up.
Like me, I am sure many of you had a similar reaction, that of disgust or disappointment. For others, you may not understand why those phrases are so hurtful. Let’s talk about why misuses of autism are so harmful. What do all of these declarations about autism have in common? They are all said in ignorance. Ignorance. We cannot let this become the standard. Not for young children, not for high schoolers, not for anyone. It starts with empathy and understanding.
Here is what I would say to those who ignorantly and casually throw around autism. I speak for myself and for the many people with autism I have worked with who cannot articulate these feelings or say these words themselves…
If the people saying those things had felt the shock of painful sensory stimuli, the betrayal of their senses, or had experienced staying home while their friends go to concerts, they would not use autism as a weapon or excuse. If they knew what it was like to be constantly reprimanded for shaking their leg, rocking, or swaying, if they had forever existed as the “tag-along” friend, or if they had felt the judgmental glares of their peers when getting pulled out of class by a therapist or intervention specialist, they would not use autism as a weapon or excuse. Had they felt the embarrassment of a public meltdown, drowned in the overwhelming anxiety of their own mind, left school crying in front of the adults they try so hard to impress, and resided in a level of isolation and loneliness they did not even know existed, they would not use autism as a weapon or excuse. Had they wrestled through brokenness, bullying, and all-consuming identity confusion, or experienced never-ending exclusion from peers, they would not use autism as a weapon or excuse. If they knew the tireless fighting that went on for their rights and needs to be met, the constant pleading at every turn, being spoken to as a child, or being told to “fix” themselves, they would not use autism as a weapon or excuse. If they knew what it was like to stay awake every single night because their brain would not let them sleep, if they had felt all the watchful, judging eyes at every public place or event, or if they had known the frustration of trying to express themselves despite a stutter, they would not use autism as a weapon or excuse. Had they known the pain of missing out on their friends’ jokes and humor, constantly having to “prove” their autism to the naysayers, having a panic attack each time a change happened, or being denied access and inclusion based on how they look, move, speak, or fail to speak, they would not use autism as a weapon or excuse.
Did I lay it on too thick? I think you get the point.
Autism affects everything, and we cannot take it out of us. It is a daily battle to fix deficits, meet societal standards, act normal, ignore anxiety, work on no-sleep, and so, so much more. Autism is a disorder, which by definition means it disrupts our functioning. This is not a “good” thing, this is not something people should want. Furthermore, it is not something we should be freely labeling people with.
If you are someone who has fallen victim to the growing movement of harmful ignorance, I urge you to think twice. I urge you to research autism and how it changes our lives. Our lives do not look like yours no matter how badly we want them to.
If you are a parent whose child has said these things, please teach them about autism. If you are a teacher or administrator, I encourage you to create a lesson, or mention this problem at an assembly. Autistics are already more likely to be bullied and face social and academic difficulties in school. Now, they are contending with a bunch of people who “have” autism or who use the word autism as a weapon to describe the negative aspects of another student. Imagine how this makes them feel. Can they express this to you? No, because autism is a communicative disorder affecting expressive and pragmatic language. What happens next? They fester, alone. The longer we let this go on, the longer our autistic students feel the brunt of this misinformation, and the longer they remain targeted bully victims. I am not suggesting we stop this, I am saying we have to. Right now. When we send autistics through a system with little protection from bullying, knowing that they are more susceptible than other children to loneliness, isolation, anxiety, OCD, and depression, we create this statistic: “Autistics with are 6-9x more likely to die by suicide than the general population. It is the second leading cause of death for autistic people” (Brown, 2025, p. 1; Royal College of Psychiatrists, n.d.).
This is not okay and this cannot go on. Please, I beg you, be the change.
November 1st, 2026
References
Antshel, K.M., Russo, N. Autism Spectrum Disorders and ADHD: Overlapping Phenomenology, Diagnostic Issues, and Treatment Considerations. Curr Psychiatry Rep 21, 34 (2019). https://doi.org/10.1007/s11920-019-1020-5
https://www.rcpsych.ac.uk/docs/default-source/improving-care/nccmh/suicide-prevention/workshops-(wave-4)/wave-4-workshop-2/suicide-and-autism---slides.pdf?sfvrsn=bf3e0113_2
