Blackness x Neurodivergence I: An Introduction

(source: Autistic UK)

Being Black in the US necessitates a kind of hyper-visible invisibility in the spaces that can have the most impact on your life (ex: education, law, and economics), and having to be part of the vanguard to make people realize that the group of humans they unnecessarily hate the most – shout-out to white people who made and continue to make this possible – are actually an endless sources of creativity and a net positive for x institutions.

One of the traps we often fall prey to is the “get the formal education and training, then change things from the inside” trap. Because it argues that the inner-workings of the institutions that are institutionally hardwired to keep us out and oppress up will somehow be less hostile to any new Black individual who dares swim against the current. And that once inside, the unmistakable brilliance of said new Black individual will convince those socialized to think Blackness un-brilliant will betray their very nature, and hop on board with any new ideas.

We all know that is an exception to the rules within places where many contradictions are also rules. Yet, it’s a myth we all believe in because the fiction is more inviting than the truth we face on the daily.

And it is once again something I have to contend with when looking at the vacant lot that is Blackness in research on neurodivergent people.

Now, I don’t mean this to say that there aren’t any Black people who’ve been professionally diagnosed with autism. They exist. The issue, though:

And to give an example of how common it is to deny Black people an autism diagnosis, here a comment from my other post where I address how the mental health industry fails Black people:

And this is just one of many instances where someone heard snippets of my life, had very few and/or very limited (time-wise) encounters with me, read something in paperwork I filled out, and decided there’s no possible way I could be autistic. I was “too smart,” “too self-aware,” “too academically accomplished,” “too functioning” to be autistic.

The comment above is the first time a stranger decided to weigh in completely unsolicited. And also the first time I heard someone imply that I’m too traumatized to be autistic.

The others were encounters I had with psychiatrists, psychologists, and social workers who despite saying that they’ve only studied autism in school and aren’t qualified to “diagnose” anyone as neurodivergent, they were for sure certain that I wasn’t autistic.

It makes me wonder if people understand what’s meant when we say autism is a spectrum, and that knowing one individual autistic person or many different autistic people does not mean you know every autistic person and all there is to know about neurodivergence (especially because of how limited the existing body of knowledge on neurodivergence is in scope).

One of my favorite justifications also was that some adult in my life between kindergarten and the end of high school (1995 – 2008) would’ve noticed and had me tested.

As if severely underfunded public schools in poor Black and Latinx communities in the NYC had the resources to even do that, let alone the notion that Black parents struggling to make ends meet in the NYC during that time even had the bandwidth to consider if their children were autistic on top of everything else.

And I highly doubt research on neurodivergent people that existed between those thirteen years were nearly as nuanced or inclusive as autism research and advocacy is today.

Being neurodivergent didn’t even really exist as a reality in my world until last year because of how white research on neurodivergence is.

And that leads us back to the vacant lot.

Something that I found interesting in my exchanges with professionals was a dismissal of my autism due to the fact that I’m also bipolar, I have anxiety, and my trauma is no stranger to my life. As if autistic people can’t also be bipolar, have anxiety, and experienced a lot of trauma throughout their lives.

And that, to me, is one of the key issues preventing more Black people (and other PoC) from getting properly “diagnosed”: the lack of research on how racism, white supremacy, and anti-Blackness affect how autism presents differently in Black people than white people. Because Black people don’t have the luxury of not experiencing racial trauma, which means Black autistic people are having to find ways to navigate a world that’s hostile to both Black and autistic people with far less resources than the white boys and men from privileged backgrounds who take center stage in autism research and, consequently, diagnostic criteria and therapy available for autism and autistic people.

And then factor on gender, sexual orientation, class, etc. and all the trauma inherent to being a marginalized person – especially if you sit at the intersection of many (in my case poor, queer, gender neutral, autistic, and Black) – and you start to see how research into neurodivergence (and other psychiatric “conditions” that fall under the neurodiversity umbrella) fails to consider the experience of billions of autistic people around the world, and reproduces data that continues to keep them out of autism research (which is made worse by the fact that not much is being done to actually address the lack of diversity in psychology research, and the lack of diversity in psychiatry).

All of which inherently continues to leave vacant the lot that should be filled with intersectional research on neurodivergence, specifically regarding Blackness and neurodivergence. And since joining the field and accomplishing many firsts doesn’t seem like the best way to affect change, Black people often have to rely on self-diagnosis to create our own space within the autistic community.

And I know that people often discredit the validity of self-diagnosis; however:

For too long Black autistics have been denied our reality as being autistic because people don’t imagine Black neurodivergent people exist. And were it not for social media and internet access, many more of us would’ve went our entire lives not knowing something important to who we are.

And it’s better to do it from the outside rather than trying to reform an institution that cannot be reformed. Because you can’t reform racism, white supremacy, and anti-Blackness out of psychiatry and psychology; however, we can help lead the charge for a radical approach to mental health that doesn’t treat people unnecessarily as “disordered,” “sick,” or “ill” using diagnositc criteria that creates more problems than it solves.



autistic afro-realist, INTJ, my Enneagram is 8w7w9, screenwriter sans representation.

Get the Medium app

A button that says 'Download on the App Store', and if clicked it will lead you to the iOS App store
A button that says 'Get it on, Google Play', and if clicked it will lead you to the Google Play store
Keillan Cruickshank

autistic afro-realist, INTJ, my Enneagram is 8w7w9, screenwriter sans representation.