Viola's Veil

Growing up, people always complimented my hair. Full of spiral waves, full of energy and life. My parents kept it long because of how much they loved it. In my old photos, l see a petite child with a t-shirt and leggings (a lifelong outfit choice) with a high ponytail and locks that would rival Rapunzel. . . But I don't remember enjoying my hair. I remember the weight, the pain of individual hair follicles pulling at my scalp as my hairbrush snags on a fairy knot that sending a rush of overwhelming signals through my tiny body. I feel my tears sting my face as the person brushing my hair says, "I barely touched you. Why are you crying?" in exasperated tones. . . I remember the headaches, the two hour wash days, how warm and uncomfortable I felt when my hair trapped my body heat. When my hair is long, even though everyone thinks I look beautiful, I feel tired and heavy. . . Even as an adult I am reminded of why I prefer to keep my hair short. The wake up call for me this time was when I woke up at 4am to my partner and my toddler asleep in our bed and I was unable to move. Lifting my head caused immense pain and restriction. Then I realized they were both asleep on it, and I wouldn't be able to move unless I pulled my own hair free. . . Two days after that happened, my partner suggested I book an appointment to cut my hair. I called @curlco and met @hiltonjanie. She was so wonderful, empathetic, and gave me a huge gift when she cut 12 inches of hair and styled a short shag. I asked for bangs, explaining how my hair kept wanting to fall in front of my face because of how it grows and it was frustrating having my hair in my eyes. She nodded, and said no worries. She not only met my sensory needs, she validated them. . . When I got my formal Autism diagnosis, I spent time unmasking at home. In the last year I've learned a lot about myself, including my sensory needs. It took time to accept, but I know my hair is not just a part of my identity or a way to express myself. . . My hairstyle helps me feel confident because I can focus on what I'm doing instead trying to figure out if my hair is causing me discomfort or pain. . . My hair style is a sensory need. https://www.instagram.com/p/CUZYBx8LEcy/?utm_medium=tumblr

Today is World Autism Acceptance Day and I have a few thoughts I wanted to share today. I'm an actor. I have a very extensive resume, years of training. Storytelling is my special interest, a lifelong love that started as a love of reading. One day I got tired of watching the stories happen and decided I wanted to be a part of the story. I'm also Autistic. The problem for me, despite my long resume of lead roles, is that unless I'm direct booked or working on projects with friends, getting work is impossible. I'm a good actor, but the inconsistencies in environments and casting processes make it very difficult for me to perform my best work. Vague instructions confuse me and asking for clarification in my normal vocal tone can sound combative to someone who doesn't know me well. So to cope, I hide what makes me, well, me. I try to behave in a way that other people think is "normal" (that's called Masking). I prepare what I'll say and how I'll say it (including my vocal tones). But people see through it. They know is not me and think I'm not genuine. The biggest role I was offered was for a 26 episode TV series. I appeared in 24 episodes. I was the only principal female actor on set. I was told "as soon as we saw you, we knew you were our actor." After my diagnosis 6+ months ago, I looked back on the scripts and my performance. I realized I was offered the role because the character was Autistic coded, and because I am Autistic (albeit undiagnosed at the time) I got the role. The character was a stereotypical overachieving nerd who was by the book and didn't know how to "let go". Most Autistic characters are some kind of stereotype of how people think Autistic people are or should be. Autistic coded characters are usually shown as scientists, or robots, or humanoid aliens, or savants. Never moms, or teachers, or princesses, or storytellers. Never Autistics of Color. They are usually also White males. Autistic actors are usually passed over or ignored because we do things that people don't consider typical (like move our bodies too much or not enough, miss unscripted social cues or avoid eye contact). Autistic writers who want to create accurate representations of our experience are ignored or not consulted when studios create Autistic characters. Autistic people become caricatures, treated like props for the main character who is usually our caregiver (Like Raymond played by Dustin Hoffman in Rainman) or we're a punchline or nusiance (like Sheldon Cooper in Big Bang Theory). I think as artists, it's our job to show the every facet of the human experience. Even the ones we don't consider typical. I think it's important to show the many ways one can fall in love, not just "hands touch, eyes meet". One Autistic actress couldn't get work, so she wrote and starred in a short film called "A. S.imple D.ate".  There are many other artists like her who want to be heard and seen. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pTVC5UdeItA I am part of a Real Play Dungeons & Dragons Podcast where I play an Autistic character. She's basically me. After a few weeks of discussing our creative direction with our characters I made a very conscious decision with my Dungeon Master that my character Seeks would be a way for me to start to unmask and learn more about myself. Seeks is me if I didn't have anything holding me back. She's a firecracker and has shown me everything I could possibly be. If you're interested, you can find the podcast here. http://ampthecast.com/ April is Autism Acceptance Month. I encourage you to practice acceptance and start conversations with those around you about how we can elevate Autistic voices, especially Autistic voices of color.

Autistic people already have enough trauma in our lives. Don't traumatize us so you can “learn about us”. Ask us. We’re not your guinea pigs. 

I'm just tired of having to constantly prove that I'm worthy of taking up space in the world of storytelling.