Showing posts with label Arnaldo Rios. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Arnaldo Rios. Show all posts

Autistic, Gifted, And Black: An Interview With Mike Buckholtz

Music producer, actor, and writer Michael "Hot Mike" Buckholtz is also an advocate for autistic people, especially those who, like himself, are part of the Black/POC communities. We recently chatted with Mike via email about his background, some specific challenges (and deadly prejudices) Black autistic people face, and ways he thinks younger autistic people of color can empower themselves. You can follow Mike on Twitter at @OfficialHotMike.

Mike Buckholtz
[image: Black-and-white photo of Mike Buckholtz: a Black man
wearing a silver suit, glasses with blue lenses, and pulled-back locs.]
TPGA: Can you tell us a bit about your fabulous career in music and entertainment, and whether being autistic has been a factor?

Mike Buckholtz: I started out as a Hip Hop music producer for MC Hammer beginning in 1989. Hammer and I met in 1984 in the U.S. NAVY as barracks roommates. MC made a fantastic statement about that time. (I'll let him tell it.) As of  November 2016, MC Hammer has sold 50 million records, some of which I've had the honor to work on.

After MC Hammer, I worked for other labels, signed a songwriter's deal with Warner/Chappell (whom I'm still with) started my own management corporation and authored a self-published book about autism. I'm, also, currently, doing the acting thing and another major book project is in the works.

As for the autistic factor, I've had some years to consider how it may have affected my career. The many tests and observations, from professionals involved in my diagnosis, helped me discover special abilities including a photographic memory, high audible sensitivity and a stubborn tunnel-visioned focus. I use every bit of these abilities in this industry and have sharpened them once becoming aware of their benefit.

TPGA: How did getting an official diagnosis, and understanding that you are an autistic person shift your self-awareness, if at all?

MB: Coming to the conclusion (after all the testing) that I wasn't crazy or losing my mind was an important discovery. Knowing that my brain is wired to do specific things helped me build a positive perception of myself as unique versus damaged. I'd say that was a massive shift for the better.

TPGA: What are some specific positive experiences of being both Black and autistic that are lost to people who don't share your experience?

MB: The positive for me? OK. Follow my logic, here. “Black” people on the spectrum are not covered in the media very much, if at all. So, the perception is, since very few, if any, POC (people of color) are on the spectrum, the large majority of “Black” people must be... "normal." This misperception allows me to do business "under the radar," because I can choose to avoid being patronized or pitied. Otherwise, because of stigma, it would be difficult for me to secure a decent living and do serious business. This prejudice is ten times worse for Black and POC. I can't do my work with that kind of hassle. It sucks, but that's my reality for the kind of work I do.

The other positive, I've been told, is that other Black and POC see the revealing of my autistic status as empowering for them. I don't see myself as a role model, but, if openness about my diagnosis empowers other POC toward the positive, I'm all for it.

TPGA: How connected are you to the Black and POC autistic community, or to other autistic individuals, and are those connections a source of strength and comfort?

MB: I have a few amazing intimate relationships with some, a cozy cordial relationship with groups of others and virtually no relationship with the majority of autistic POC. It's complicated. I have deeply private ways of drawing strength and comfort. I'll leave the matter there.

That said, I want to do more to connect with Black and POC in our autistic community. However, much is expected of me due to being a public figure. Being public is expensive. Folks want to see more of me and that's cool, but, I don't have some bottomless budget allowing me to do that. For those who want to see or hear from me in major public forums, sponsor my visit. I'll do it! I'm proud to be an autistic POC and really want to share my experiences. I have some pretty cool stories that may help other autistic POC persevere through our many difficult experiences or circumstances.

TPGA: We already know the rate of anxiety disorders among autistic people in general is already much higher than the non-autistic population. Can you talk about why that anxiety may be even more intense for Black autistic people, and how for you it sometimes feels like "living under occupation"?

MB: Black people (men, specifically) are seen, by many, in society as dangerous, suspicious, and without moral compulsion, first. This, I feel, has been by design for hundreds of years. I don't see it changing. This reality makes life even more intense for Black autistic men.

You may remember a very popular news video of therapist Charles Kinsey (lying down with hands up) and his autistic client, Arnaldo Rios, not moving at all, but, seen, by police, as dangerous—and shots were fired at both of them. Even a Black man attempting to protect an autistic person of color will get shot at...for no reason, apparently. We cannot assimilate. Our brown skin is not interchangeable.

Since simply being brown can be the reason a police officer beats, chokes or shoots me, that feels a lot like living under occupation. Intimidation via the threat of death. I never feel truly safe. The only adjustment I've made is how often I look over my shoulder to ensure I'm a safe distance from encountering any authority figure carrying a gun.

TPGA: Can you be incredibly frank with our readers about why being both disabled and a person of color puts a body at higher risk of a dangerous police encounter than being only in one category or the other? I am thinking of specific, horrifying recent incidents like the shootings of Keith Lamont Scott, and Alfred Olango.

MB: Right. Specifically in cases like those of Mr. Scott and Mr. Olango, Black men, again, in general, have endured a multi-century campaign of discrimination, mischaracterization, defamation and dehumanization. It's easy to destroy, discard, or even kill something not seen as having any societal value worth saving or caring about.

This is the risk Black men and other POC live with everyday. Add to this fact that the two aforementioned men were battling mental or emotional issues, Mr. Scott's brought on by an accident and Mr. Olango's less defined, the chances of them living through their encounters with police were slim to none.

TPGA: Why do you think discussions about autism and from autistic activists needs to be cleaner and simpler than they generally have been? What are some examples of the kind of communication you'd like to see?

MB: Too often discussions about autism or autistic people are muddied when people confuse co-occurring issues with being autistic. What do I mean? I have OCD, or Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (think Howie Mandel). But OCD is not part of my autism.

By being clear about what autism is and what it isn't, we can keep discussions about autism or autistic accurate, as well as allowing people to get unvarnished stories directly from us. No political or partisan tangents. I believe this clarity will have a more powerful impact on those who aren't autistic, and hopefully lead to increased empathy for us and our challenges.

TPGA: Do you have any specific messages of reassurance or advice for today's younger Black and POC autistics?

MB: If you can, get evaluated. Yes, many Black and POC communities are still in the dark ages in terms of their attitude about neurological conditions. The stigma is widely known. Just know you're not broken or flawed. You're unique. You may even have special neurological wiring giving you an edge over your non-autistic contemporaries. Embrace it. Work with it. See it as an amazing thing. Feel free to connect with other seasoned (but positive) autistic adults as mentors. Remain hopeful. Focus on accomplishing the thing that will allow you the freedom to care for yourself and help others. Avoid using it as an excuse when you fail for other reasons, or, as something to exploit. Love yourself and others will be attracted to that.
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Hey Parents of Autistic Kids: Here Are Five Big, Avoidable Mistakes

Shannon Des Roches Rosa
www.squidalicious.com

Resting after a long hike. Photo © Shannon Des Roches Rosa
[image: White teen boy with short brown hair, seen from
behind, sitting on a hilltop bench overlooking an ocean.]
If you're the parent of an autistic kid, you probably get advice thrown at your head from every angle, all day long. You may even be all done with advice. And I hear you, because I am you.

But I also have had the great good fortune to be connected with some of the most insightful autistic and autism professionals and thinkers on this planet, who have transformed my parenting approach completely, and to the benefit of my teen son Leo, as well as myself. 



As I have become increasingly devoted to "learn from my mistakes, so you don't repeat my mistakes," here are five bonks I made during the early years of parenting my autistic son, and how you can avoid repeating my fails:

1) Focusing on Awareness Instead of Acceptance



Autism acceptance wasn't a thing in the American culture in which I was both raised and taught to parent. Americans tend to think of autism and disability as either other people's problems, The Worst Thing That Could Ever Happen to a Family, or grist for arguments that non-disabled people should appreciate their special non-disabled lives. Even respected progressive media outlets tend to take these stances. 



Parents like me are told we need to focus on building awareness, which means opening  other people's minds to the concept that autistic people like my son exist. Which would be fine, if awareness also came with the benefits of respect and understanding.  But it doesn't. "Awareness" lets people think it's OK say ignorant things like, "Oh, I heard you can cure autism with a bleach enema," or "I'm so sorry about your son's autism epidemic," or even "Aren't autistic people all violent psychopaths?"

Awareness underlies misunderstandings such as assuming autistic people are either all children, or remain children for life. Which then leads to autism efforts that neither include nor consult autistic people, plus parents or professionals feeling entitled to able-splain "what autism is really like" to ... autistic people. These too-common results are the opposite of helpful.

Awareness also doesn't prevent innocent autistic people like toy truck-holder Arnaldo Rios from being mistaken by police for a violent suicidal gunman, nor does it prevent autism professionals like Arnaldo's caregiver Charles Kinsey from being shot for trying to comfort an agitated autistic person while Black.

These are just a few of the reasons why parents need to work on autism acceptance, on helping not just our own selves but the whole damn world understand this truth: our autistic children have autistic traits that make them autistic, and they are also real human beings with real needs who deserve real respect. Real acceptance means supporting and accommodating our autistic kids without being hellbent on "fixing" them, and being conscious of “the law of expressed emotion,” as described in the recent Invisibilia podcast, The Problem With The Solution, that “our private thoughts about a person, our disappointment in them or even our wishes for them to get better, shoot out of us like lasers and can change their very insides.”



Acceptance means rejecting the idea that there's a "normal" child trapped inside your autistic child, for the sake of your child's health, heart, and soul—as well as your own. It is reasonable to want your child’s life to be easier, and work towards that. On building skills for better coping with people and situations that are rarely considerate of autistic needs. But if you have an autistic child, it isn't realistic or healthy to expect them to not be autistic.



2) Obsessing Over "Age-Appropriate" Interests

 

It should be fine and dandy for people to like what they like, as long as they're not hurting anyone. Unfortunately, when it comes to autism, things people really really like tend to be viewed solely through the lens of disability, if not pathology: what might be viewed in a non-autistic person as a passion becomes an "autistic special interest." And woe to the autistic person whose passions are seen as only appropriate for younger people!



This is part of that acceptance mindset again: parents need to jettison worries about autistic kids' interests being age-appropriate and focus on what, for your child, is happiness-appropriate. Otherwise, you'll not only make your child sad and possibly even miserable, but you could be destroying opportunities to connect with them. In the new movie Life, Animated, an autistic young man's love of animated Disney movies gave him scaffolding not only for making sense of and relating to the world, but provided him with scripts—functional echolalia—to communicate with his delighted family (who had been told by professionals that his echolalia served no purpose, grrr). 



With people like my son Leo, for whom speaking comes slowly and carefully, building language skills requires extended observation, absorption, and scripting. Sometimes he needs to practice hundreds or thousands of times before feeling comfortable trying new words, and watching familiar videos or scripts (and yes, even ones meant for younger kids) can help with that. My son says novel things about videos he’s watched thousands of times before, almost every day. Why would I tell him he can't watch what he loves, when his favorite videos continue to help him learn?



3) Making Everything Therapeutic. Even Fun Things.



I have been guilty of this in the past (and possibly in the paragraph directly above): making sure that everything in Leo's life has some sort of therapeutic value, instead of making sure he has space in his life for happiness and fun. I recently observed this type of "what is awesome for non-autistic people is therapeutic for autistic people because they are autistic" with Pokémon Go:
“A mum has described how Pokemon Go has helped her autistic son leave the house and socialise with other people for the first time. She hopes that the effects of the game will carry over into the rest of his life, with Ralphie becoming more social, less rigid and wanting to get outside. "We're letting him enjoy the game but we're also trying to help him learn he doesn't need the game in order to do those things," she said.” 
As parents, we need to be really careful to distinguish between "this thing is making my kid be the person I want them to be but they aren't," and "this thing is making my kid happy and making it easier to do things that are hard for them." Let your autistic kids have fun, people!



4) Assuming Speaking Is the Only Form of Legitimate Communication



This is an intense one. And one that makes me so sad. I hear from and read accounts from parents nearly every day, talking about their "non-verbal" kids, about how speech therapy never worked, about how they can't reach their kids and how it makes those parents so sad.



I'm guessing it makes their kids even sadder. Especially if their kids have never been given communication options other than oral speech. Because not only can everyone communicate (even if it's as basic as yes/no, or even just "no") when given the right tools to do so, many autistic people have motor planning or related disabilities that make it hard to speak or respond appropriately even if they understand everything being said to them.

So if your child needs communication support, be sure to press hard for alternative communication evaluation and options. If your local resources or school district don't know where to start, send them to the website PrAACtical AAC, which is dedicated to best practices for Augmentative and Alternative Communication (AAC) professionals, and which you should read through yourself for ideas.



5) Buying Into the Stereotype That Autistic Kids Aren’t Empathetic or Social 



It is extraordinarily damaging to treat autistic people as emotion-free, antisocial robots. As Louise Milligan writes in The Guardian,
"The idea that people on the autism spectrum don’t know or care about other people is offensive and wrong. It makes their ability to navigate a path through this world so very vexed. Let’s be very clear: how people with autism might appear in company and what they know or think about, or care about, are quite distinct things."
And this goes back to that Acceptance concept: If you understand that being with other people can be challenging for an autistic child because social cues are confusing, and the world is filled with “light, colors and noises so intense” that your child can't think let alone interact, then you're more likely to stop confusing inability to handle socialization under stressful circumstances with dislike for other people.

(Though, to be fair, as with non-autistic people, some autistic people do prefer their own company.)



What Can You Do? Just Keep Swimming.

How can you get it right? Well, I recommend acceptance, as you might suspect by this point. And learning from the parents in the movie Finding Dory. As Alice Wong writes, "[Dory's parents] Jenny and Charlie are like many parents of kids with disabilities:

"They worry about her future
"They teach her life skills that she will need
"They are protective about Dory and her safety (“Watch for the undertow!”)
"They show joy and love of Dory being Dory"

Some autistic people, as well as people with other disabilities, say Finding Dory is hard to watch, because they lived through and so deeply empathize with how other creatures shun and second-guess Dory, and condition Dory to constantly apologize for existing. But Dory's parents never wavered in their complete love and acceptance for her.

Be like Jenny and Charlie. Love your kid. Let your kid know you love them, and are on their side -- no matter how badly the rest of the world behaves. Let them know they can always depend on you, that you accept and adore them, and that anyone who doesn't automatically feel the same way just needs to catch up. Because if we all work hard enough on that acceptance thing ... maybe everyone else actually will catch up.

A version of this essay was previously published at www.BlogHer.com.
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