What bothers you and why?

It bothers me when people make assumptions about others based on their appearance, mannerisms, or sex. The latter has happened to me quite frequently. Usually because I’m a woman, but also because I’m autistic – I was diagnosed with Asperger’s before there were “levels” of autism. I’ll give three examples and leave you with a heartwarming video about what happens when you look beyond what you can see with your own eyes.

I. I am a IFSAC certified firefighter and HazMat technician. I am also a petite, older woman (I was 41 when I graduated from the fire academy). I am also a SME or subject matter expert in biological and chemical warfare for DHS. Most of my certifications come from in-person classes – classes for which I used my vacation or personal time to attend. After moving to Alabama, I was taking an Incident Command Systems class with several of my fellow instructors as well as several firefighters from surrounding community agencies. We were split up and placed into groups with each member of the group being from a different agency to promote networking. Per the norm, I was the only female in the entire class, let alone my group. There was a young firefighter who had just completed his HazMat technician and he knew everything there was to know about anything and he wasn’t shy about letting everyone else know it. Any suggestion or answer I gave in the class earned an immediate and exaggerated eye-roll from this guy. My cohorts noticed it as well as the class instructors. The second day of class, this youngster was speaking with one of my fellow instructors asking about the requirements for our job and the applications process. God love him if my cohort didn’t respond by telling this poor boy that the person with the most experience (very generous) and highest level of training (true) was available to answer his questions that day after class. This young fella was now looking around the room with anticipation to see at who’s feet he could sit to pick up the dropped pearls of wisdom. My cohort then motioned to me to join them and said, “Karen? Little Timmy here (not his real name) would like to speak with you after class about what steps he needs to take to meet the requirements to do our job. Would you be available after class to speak with him?” Well of course you know I was, but regrettably the young man remembered he had another engagement after class.

II. Having been a nurse before I was a firefighter and HazMat tech, I continued working in emergency medicine as a trauma nurse after I moved to Alabama. Our hospital had a Mass Casualty exercise in conjunction with the agency for whom I worked as a HazMat instructor. While this was not my exercise, I had the expertise and knowledge to help the nurses responding when the “patients” arrived with their various chemical exposures, yet when I attempted to speak with them (I was working as a nurse in the ER that day), even the department manager was turning away with the clique of young nurses desperately hitting up Google on their phones looking for answers. It was common knowledge that I worked as an instructor with this cadre in charge of the exercise, it wasn’t a secret. The former department manager was looking at me in confusion asking, “Why aren’t they listening to you?” Because as a petite, older woman with white hair, I don’t meet their expectation of a firefighter or a HazMat expert. They are expecting a young, brawny, broad-shouldered, tall firefighter in uniform with what I call EDS (commonly referred to as Elephant Dick Syndrome by female firefighters who have to spend time in close quarters with these guys, many of whom think and act as if they are God’s gift to women). My appearance does not meet their expectations, therefore they are not listening to what I say.

III. As a nursing professional, a professional firefighter, a professional instructor, an individual with multiple degrees and certifications (not to brag, just stating facts) – I am obviously successful in my careers. I own my own home, manage my finances well, have successfully raised my children. I have some “eccentric behaviors” such as difficulty knowing left from right, speaking Russian (I used it in a previous job), a deep-seated sense of right and wrong, unflappable integrity and an inability to lie. When I tell people that I am on the spectrum, I generally get the offhand comment, “You don’t LOOK autistic.” Hmmmmm . . . how does autism . . . look per se? I generally reply that it’s because I part my hair on the side. One of my favorite ER physicians make that comment to me. He also happens to be black. I looked at him and said, “Saying all autistic people look alike is like saying all black people look alike.” He held my gaze for a few seconds, blushed and responded, “Touche.” Since that moment he has been one of my biggest advocates for autistic patients. What people don’t see is the years that I imitated the behaviors of my classmates in an attempt to fit in. They don’t see the side of me that my husband is privy to see – the tapping, flapping or rocking when I am stressed or excited. I mask a lot, it isn’t perfect, but neither am I.

I leave you with this clip that will hopefully open your eyes to the possibilities of others’ abilities: