Translator: Leonardo Silva Reviewer: Rhonda Jacobs
My name is Elisabeth Wiklander,
and I -
I am autistic.
What do you think about when you hear the word "autistic"?
How do you react when you hear the word "autism"?
Would you say that it is a lifelong disorder?
An impairment?
A disability?
This is indeed the way medical language describes it,
but autism is so much more than that.
No diagnostic manual can truly explain the multifaceted experience of autism.
It is a neurological difference,
with a vast spectrum of representation within its population.
It can come with remarkable gifts and skills,
as well as devastating traits.
But autism doesn't necessarily equal disability.
And thankfully, today we have a word that challenges this negative terminology:
"neurodiversity."
Neurodiversity describes how diverse we are as human beings,
from a neurological perspective.
It suggests that the many variations of human brains, like autistic ones,
should be accepted as a natural and valuable part
of humanity's genetic legacy.
DNA shows us that autism is primarily a genetic condition,
something that has been passed down through generations
and is still widely shared in the general population.
These genes can carry something so positive,
in spite of the difference they cause,
that they have persisted throughout our evolution
and still flourish today.
Some of our important inventions,
pieces of art and music,
and discoveries in scientific fields that have moved our world forwards
come from autistic minds.
With today's exciting new technologies in neuroscience,
we have seen that autistic brains differ from the norm.
Not only that,
but it appears as if each and every one differs in its own unique way.
So, autism is rich in expression,
but still faces limiting generalizations.
Today, I want to talk about the autism that I display,
the one that blends with normality
and can have catastrophic impacts on people's lives,
not necessarily because of the autism itself,
but because of the ignorance of it
or the failure to recognize that it is there in the first place,
as I eventually would discover.
Now, in social situations,
we do have expectations upon one another.
We use a certain kind of rulebook,
which, when followed, rewards us with social acceptance.
But I always felt that I was different.
The trouble was I couldn't explain how, and certainly not why.
It felt as if I had been provided a different rulebook,
and that I lacked a community to fall back upon,
that could confirm to me that the way I interpreted the world was valid too.
So, I grew up feeling very misunderstood,
by pretty much everybody,
even within my own family.
If I applied what would have been my motives, my intentions
upon someone else's behavior, or vice-versa,
the outcome was often negative and very confusing.
So to me, the social world became scary and unpredictable.
Now, I did notice, however, especially during my school years here in Sweden,
that my mind had been blessed with gifts,
like analytical skills and intense mental focus,
high capacity for memorizing information,
which made studying very pleasurable and easy.
So in my academic pursuit, I came here to Göteborg,
where I studied at the university.
I later went to the Netherlands, where I attained my Master of Music.
And today, I live in the UK,
working as a professional cellist in the London Philharmonic Orchestra,
touring the world.
But this, however, is quite unusual for me,
to stand on a stage just talking to you, without my instrument.
I can't help the feeling that I have forgotten it somewhere.
Okay, so one may now think,
"Okay, she plays in this great orchestra.
She's obviously done pretty well for herself. What's the problem?"
Well,
I have a very literal mind,
and it constantly clashes with both nonverbal and verbal subtleties
in social situations.
It gives me a very direct line of approach and speech in everyday conversations.
I still don't really understand the purpose of small talk,
although I can appreciate it now.
And jokes and sarcasm fly completely over my head.
My mind just takes things in so literally.
It loves to analyze everything.
My world is a very intense one.
My senses are heightened.
My brain absorbs everything in through an amplifier.
My special interests can completely consume me.
And my emotions,
they go from the highest of high to the lowest of low,
and they're on and off like a light switch.
My family, bless them,
they can still stand in utter disbelief
when I go from a complete nuclear blast to rainbows and butterflies
in less than two seconds.
Literally.
So, okay, autism influences my thoughts,
my imagination,
my senses, my emotions,
and the way I process information.
But without knowing this,
it was very difficult to maintain friendships,
because our social expectations were so different.
I could come across as odd,
and I experienced a good amount of bullying for it.
But the most devastating,
the most devastating were the eroding misunderstandings
that dominated the relationships with the people closest to me.
Body signals?
Misread.
Words?
Completely misinterpreted.
It was so frustrating.
It was like fighting a ghost,
something that no one could really grasp,
not even the counselors we sought for help!
So it was a mentally agonizing situation,
that persisted year after year,
and in my mid-twenties, I had reached a really dark place
and I started to be truly scared for my future.
But then,
something extraordinary happened that changed everything.
In 2006, I heard about Asperger's syndrome.
It is already an outdated term today,
but it is still a form of autism,
on the high-functioning end of the spectrum.
Three years later, when I was 28 years old,
I received this diagnosis,
and I realized that a good third of my life
had been based upon a false perception of myself.
Imagine that!
No wonder my life had been so confusing!
But now, now I started to see myself in a new, clear context.
My whole life and all my experiences just started to make sense!
This launched me on an incredible journey of enlightenment and transformation.
I had finally been given something
that allowed me to explore the relativity of my perception of the world
compared to others'.
I gained access into that mysterious rulebook,
and I could start comparing it with mine.
And so, I learned to identify my differences.
So in the coming years,
I found efficient ways to improve my social skills.
I learned to verbalize my needs,
recognize my limitations
and develop my strengths.
I found successful strategies to navigate my everyday life
and significantly improved all the "disabling traits" of my diagnosis.
But this took a lot of commitment, dedication and hard work.
Because autism is a spectrum,
I had to become like a researcher
and collect a lot of information from a lot of different sources
over a long period of time
in order to be able to complete my unique life puzzle.
When I thought that I had reached the level of conformity that society demanded,
I kept feeling that something was not quite right.
Something was still missing.
I could change the way I acted,
but I cannot change the way I am.
My natural, biological calibration is and always will be autistic.
And the problem I had now was to live up to these new high social standards
that I had set for myself.
I had come to understand my differences.
But as you all know, a relationship is a two-way street.
Without acceptance and understanding for the real me,
I would never be truly happy,
and this prompted me to one day make quite a radical move.
On April 2, 2015,
I announced my autism on social media,
and I started to talk about it with everybody, openly.
Bang! Just like that.
I admit it was absolutely terrifying,
because I had encountered what was out there,
the stigma, the prejudice.
I was very afraid
that people would put their preconceived ideas of autism onto me,
rather than letting me show them what autism can look like.
But this didn't happen.
What happened was that my life changed completely
almost overnight.
I was met with curiosity,
and support started to flood in from everywhere:
from friends, from family, from colleagues,
and from people I didn't even know.
Media started to take notice,
and people who recognized themselves in my story
started to contact me, from near and far, for help.
Seeing how common the situation was
and how efficiently it could be reversed using the same tools that I had,
it inspired me to share my experience further:
that the knowledge of neurodiversity opens new communication channels between us
by identifying differences we didn't know of before,
because they have been hidden in our minds.
It unlocked my world with a key to identify my differences
and to communicate these in a way that we could all understand.
So today, I'm a very happy person.
I have got some wonderful friendships,
I've connected deeper with my family members,
and I'm experiencing what it is to be in a happy, healthy relationship
with a wonderful man,
who is thankfully also very patient,
because misunderstandings, they still do happen.
But now,
now they can be resolved,
so they're no longer a threat to our relationship.
We have taught one another to read each other's rulebooks,
and it is enriching both of our lives.
I'm still autistic,
but I love it.
I embrace it!
I can no longer align myself with the word "disabled,"
because in retrospect, I understand
that the suffering that I have experienced does not stem from my autism itself,
but from the impacts of ignorance about it.
So if we need a cure for anything, it's not for autism;
it's for ignorance and intolerance.
Differences are always challenging,
but they are equally what makes this world such a beautiful and spectacular place.
Recognizing how we differ from each other from a neurological perspective
helps us to coexist more smoothly
without having to carve so much in our authenticity,
allowing our natural skills, talents and creativity more freedom to roam,
not just for people on the autism spectrum,
but for all.
By joining forces, we can create a larger picture of ourselves
and inspire each other on new levels.
The autistic population is not an insignificant one.
In the UK only,
we are nearly one million people.
So knowingly or not, you will find us amongst your friends and colleagues.
We might be a family member,
your boss,
or a neighbor.
You might have fallen in love with someone on the autism spectrum.
Why?
Why must we wear a one-size-fits-all because it fits the majority of people?
Should what is neurologically accepted be determined by what's the majority?
Is human value determined by what is the majority?
No, of course not.
But yet, a lot of autistic individuals, too many,
can still not access their basic rights as citizens
because ignorance of our difference still permeates every aspect of society.
We deserve
the same access to education,
with knowledge and flexibility regarding our unique information processing.
We deserve the same access to the workforce,
with understanding
for our sensitivity to social deciphering
and sensory input.
We deserve appreciation and recognition for our skills,
and we deserve the same access to adequate help and support
where the true source of our struggle is better recognized.
All services have to start evolving
towards taking neurodiversity into account,
or a lot of people will continue to fall through the net,
and that is ultimately harmful to our entire society.
It is unacceptable
that because some don't fit a standard norm,
they risk being bullied, discriminated, labeled as impaired,
and pushed to the edge of society, becoming spectators behind a glass wall.
It is a weakness that deprives us of contributions from unique minds
that are valuable to us all,
because they're different,
because they think outside the box.
The quirky kid from school, like me,
has just as much to offer the world as anybody else.
Every human being is a resource,
and society has to broaden its framework to allow everyone a place in it.
This may seem a daunting task, but we mustn't be discouraged.
Extraordinary things can and have been done by ordinary people,
no matter through which spectrum we perceive the world.
Thank you.
(Applause)