On “aspie” as a term
A couple of the listervs I subscribe to have been debating the term “aspie,” and most contributors have described aspie/autie as cutesy, shiny awfulness. The discussion has provided me with some interesting reading material, if only because I’ve named my blog aspie rhetor of all things. But really, when I hear aspie, I hear ass pee. So, just based on that auditory mangling, it’s not my favorite term. And I do appreciate Sarah’s recent discussion of the term at Cat in a Dog’s World.
Yet, I’ve used aspie here anyway. I’ll explain why.
I prefer to be called autistic, for a variety of reasons. I don’t see Asperger’s as “separate” from autism, nor do I see Asperger’s as being the next and better form of human evolution (ugh), nor do I think that people with Asperger’s DXes are superior/more intelligent/cooler than those with other autism labels (more ugh). As I’ve written previously, these diagnostic labels are, in a large way, socially constructed entities that reflect more on what we deem as normative than what we deem as autistic. How we conceive of functioning labels, for instance, is a product of social and cultural power, where “functioning” really means “the ability to act and think like all us normal and therefore superior people.” In a large way, distinguishing oneself as aspie can institute this sort of cultural power — a way to call attention to one’s position on the functioning food chain.
But I still use aspie here, despite the potential for misinterpretation, despite the potential for others to assume that I’m some sort of shiny, self-important autistic. And here’s why: I’ve been given a label in the name of pathology, and I want to reclaim that label in the name of disability studies/neurodiversity/autistic culture.
When I use aspie — and I daresay when certain other autistic people use aspie or autie — it’s not an act meant to exclude others, nor is it an act meant to create hierarchy among autistic individuals. In fact, I use aspie and autie almost interchangeably — because I personally don’t see a difference between the two, at least not in a let’s-take-back-the-language-used-to-describe-us-and-oppress-us sense. Sort of what Simi Linton writes about.
To give further background: someone called me an aspie rhetor before I called myself an aspie rhetor. And I take issue with both words: First, the person who called me an aspie wasn’t someone who knew (or cared) much about autistic culture. And second, I take issue with being called only a rhetor — I’m also a rhetorician, dagnabbit.
The difference? Rhetors are people who make arguments or create messages (e.g., bloggers). Rhetoricians are people who study what rhetors do (e.g., study bloggers and their blogs and the people who read their blogs). Apparently, per this person, by sheer fact that I’m a so-called “aspie” — and am therefore disordered — I don’t have the ability to study the moves that other aspie rhetors make.
In fact, per this person, all of the autistic bloggers on the Autism Hub are aspie rhetors (even if they’re not, um, aspies): by sheer fact that they’re autistic, they’re incapable of being rhetoricians.
So, insert the mindblindness and Theory of Mind mantras here. I can’t escape my poor little mind prison, so I’ll always be the studied rather than the studier. Because goodness knows that autistic people are arhetorical beings who lack such audience awareness that they don’t have the capability of understanding what rhetoric is.
So, let me make something clear: I’m an autistic rhetorician, not an aspie rhetor. And Hub bloggers are rhetoricians, not just rhetors. But with what I like to think of as a final blow to this individual, I’ve called myself (or my blog) aspie rhetor. And why not? I’m an English major. I can spend the next 10 years analyzing all the crap associated with that term. And if ableist individuals are going to demand that I’m aspie (as opposed to the so-called “horribly damaged” autistic people) and that I’m a rhetor (as opposed to those people who actually know what they’re doing when they write), then I might as well make these terms my own, complicate what these terms mean, use them in ways they weren’t intended.
Moreover, because I like to think of myself as both a rhetor and a rhetorician, I’d like to think that I have some insight into making my own blogging space a rhetorically effective and accessible blogging space. For instance, aspie rhetor is not only easier to spell (e.g., aspierhetor.com), but it’s also easier (for me) to pronounce than autistic rhetorician.
Maybe someday — perhaps when the DSM-V arrives and does away with the Asperger’s stuff — I’ll remake my blog, or have two URLs leading to the same place: aspie rhetor and autistic rhetorician. But I don’t feel apologetic about referring to this space with the word aspie. I recognize that in many contexts, it certainly does create a dichotomy amongst autistic people, just like functioning labels do. But a rather large part of aspie and autie involves taking back the words that others come to know us by. And in that sense, I don’t see the dichotomy, and I don’t see the hierarchy.
Maybe I should put this stuff on my About page.
on November 7th, 2009 at 5:25 pm
Interesting post. I’m not familiar with the “rhetor” and “rhetorician” terms, though whoever initially said those things to you sounds like a real jerk. (I also hate the insinuation that all autistics who blog are “aspies.”) I’m definitely more of a “rhetor,” though, and frankly that person’s assertions about what true “rhetoricians” are sound like not only ableism, but intellectual snobbery at its worst.
on November 7th, 2009 at 6:20 pm
I didn’t know about the rhetor/rhetoritician distinction, either — actually, my reaction on first finding your blog was, “Wait, is ‘rhetor’ a word?”
I also suspect your quite complicated use of the term “aspie rhetor” would go right over the head of the person who first called you one.
on November 8th, 2009 at 6:46 am
First reaction: Ooh! Fun with words!
Actual response: I’m not sure the distinction between rhetor and rhetorician is widely recognized.
Dictionary definition of rhetor:
1) Master or teacher of rhetoric
2) Orator
Dictionary definition of rhetorician:
1) a person skilled in rhetoric
2) a teacher of rhetoric
3) a person who writes or speaks in a rhetorical, or showy, elaborate manner
(Webster’s New World College Dictionary, 4th ed)
Neither of these definitions suggest the distinction made.
Perhaps more to the point, if–as an aspie–you couldn’t analyze and study another’s argument, you couldn’t devise a logical argument of your own. Logic is a learned art. In order to learn this art, you have to study arguments, understand them, internalize the mechanics, and duplicate them while using your own ideas.
“But a rather large part of aspie and autie involves taking back the words that others come to know us by.”
In that sense, it’s not really going to matter which label you “own,” it matters how you own it. I tend to lean more towards describing my children as autistic. But I also interlace “children with autism” and such as well. Through it all is the concept that my children are human beings, people deserving of respect and consideration irregardless of labels, differences or what-not. My hope (however misguided it may be) is that people will be seen as people, no matter what labels or distinctions we attach to them.
Whether you go by “aspie rhetor” or “autistic rhetorician” you are you and you are valuable. And I hope this other person, and everyone like that, will be able to look past any prejudices they cling to so they can see you clearly as a person.
on November 8th, 2009 at 9:21 am
All: I suppose I should clarify myself! The person who once called me a rhetor, in this particular instance, knew the difference between terms that I mention. I should also note that where I’m coming from is a discipline with some of its own isms — that of rhetoric and composition. So, in this particular field, while I’m sure there are some who would disagree with my above distinction (and would use the dictionary definitions that Stephanie has kindly shared), most, I think, would more or less agree with how I’ve laid it out.
For instance, in my field (and a lot of other English classes), we often talk about this thing called the rhetorical triangle, and you can find an image example here: http://tech-rhet.net/resources/rhetoric/img/RhetoricalTriangle-big.gif
Generally speaking, the rhetorical triangle is the relationship between a rhetor (and a rhetor is a writer, speaker, orator, etc. — someone conveying a message), the rhetor’s audience, and the rhetor’s purpose or message.
While certainly, rhetors engage in some of a rhetorician’s work (especially if their message is to be effective!), a rhetorician is primarily concerned with *studying* what rhetors do and how they relate back to the rest of the triangle — what rhetoric is.
I hope that clarifies it! The ironic part of all of this is… that Evil Person would say that all of your comments indicate that I lack a theory of mind. (Really.) Because apparently I failed to properly situate my discussion in the context of a very specific field with its own long-held discussions and debates!
on November 8th, 2009 at 9:30 am
Sarah: Even though you’re not going to graduate school for rhetoric, I’d venture to say that your blog engages in a lot of the stuff that rhetoricians do — and I think that the work of many autism/autistic bloggers, in general, helps to collapse the distinction between rhetor/rhetorician. Because what you often do is analyze others’ arguments in order to craft your own, which is the real work of rhetoric. You might not be coming at it from rhetoric as a discipline (which might cause some to argue that you’re simply a super effective rhetor), but I’d go with rhetorician. And I’d say that because there are way too many people in my field right now who think that autistic people don’t know anything about making rhetorically effective arguments. And I really want to throw, uh, wet sponges at those people!
In any event… I hope the main point of my post was clear enough! Basically, I tend to agree with most everything, I think, that you and others have contributed to the discussion of “aspie” as a troubled term. Because it certainly presents problems, and often others use it in a way that divides the autistic community. But I wanted to add that, at root, it wasn’t/isn’t a term served to exclude or exude shininess: its use often involves reclaiming a name that a doctor handed out. So designating oneself an aspie isn’t necessarily an act that signals “whee! look at how awesomely superior I am!” but rather an act that might signal “I’m not someone who ’suffers’ from autism — I belong to a community of autistic human beings who have been systematically oppressed and denied rights, and I’m going to take this pathological designation that the world has given me and turn it on its head.”
on November 8th, 2009 at 9:37 am
Lindsay: I think most people have had that reaction about “rhetor”! I guess my field is super-specialized? I have no idea. But if anything, I’m helping to spread the rhetoric-and-composition love? Or something like that?
As for what you say about what I’ve written going over that person’s head — ha! Maybe. I don’t know. If anything, that person is convinced I’m an unempathetic n00b with a faulty ToM chip. So, misunderstanding will always be the fault of my “devastating neurological disorder.” *groan*
I suppose what I’ve written might make lay people scratch their heads. But really… I think language is important, and I like to think nerdy things about language. And this idea of reclaiming language fascinates me.
on November 8th, 2009 at 1:06 pm
In general I try not to get hung up on labels and I have no objection to calling myself autistic. Labels are human constructions and as such are simply necessary fictions. I am fine with this as long as we attach specific definitions to these labels. If a person like you and I are going to be labeled autistic that is well and good as long everyone agrees then to acknowledge that there is nothing pathological about autism. My Aspie/autistic behavior is simply a lifestyle choice based on who I am and I demand that society treat my behavior as such. If this is the case than we are going to need a whole new round of labels to deal with the pathologies related to more traditional understandings of autism.
on November 9th, 2009 at 6:21 am
“The ironic part of all of this is… that Evil Person would say that all of your comments indicate that I lack a theory of mind. (Really.) Because apparently I failed to properly situate my discussion in the context of a very specific field with its own long-held discussions and debates!”
I, for one, got that. I am not within that field, but the context of your message elludes to a separate field of study. In the work I do, this would be called jargon. When addressing an audience outside the field of study, it’s important to identify and define the jargon (which you did, so you were cognizant of your audience). No “theory of mind” problems here.
My point, which I failed to get around to apparently, is that including these distinctions in your “about” section would be a good idea if you want the “general public” to understand the significance of the distinction in your mind and among your studied peers.
The other point, which I think I did make and which you reiterated, is that a rhetor must be a rhetorician to some degree in order to be effective. Therefore, the other person’s claims are invalid. You cannot simply be a rhetor without having the ability to be a rhetorician. But, of course, this is coming from someone who has not studied rhetoric beyond a “critical thinking” course and reading Plato, so I’m sure my point could easily be dismissed because I’m not qualified to make it.
on November 9th, 2009 at 6:23 am
“And this idea of reclaiming language fascinates me.”
You’re not alone there!
on November 9th, 2009 at 7:47 pm
Thanks for the clarification about rhetor/rhetorician. I guess I am a rhetorician, then, though I more typically refer to myself as opinionated.
I think you bring up a good point about “aspie” as a reclamation of a medicalized term. I just like “autistic” better because it includes all autistic people, and it doesn’t set off my ugly word radar the way that “aspie” or any other word related to Asperger’s name does.