When brainstorming a logo for this column, I thought of phrases like “Solving the puzzle” or “Missing pieces.” I immediately thought of the single, multicolored puzzle piece which has historically been an established symbol when talking about issues related to autism.
But autistic people are speaking up now more than ever to say how they want to be represented or identified within the larger community – and often, it’s not through the puzzle piece.
Some feel the symbol portrays them as a “puzzle” or mystery to be solved. Though some still identify with the multicolored shape, others say their life doesn’t need explanation or fixing.
They don’t have a disease. There’s nothing “missing” from them. They say they are as whole as any other non-neurodiverse person, and saying otherwise is misleading and insulting.
It’s a tough issue on top of all the other difficulties facing people with ASD. Not only is the “regular” world a complicated, confusing mess for autistic people, they must navigate these established norms.
An example: Some with ASD have to actively “mask” some of their behaviors, like stimming. Rather than picking up social norms intuitively, they sometimes have to learn how to interact with people and be taught what to say, in essence “correcting” their perceived faults. This is a clear disservice to those on the spectrum, and it’s the behavior of non-neurodiverse people that needs to change instead. Who cares if someone feels better wearing the same shirt every day, or if someone likes to follow rules to the letter? Let them do it.
A friend of mine who has a son on the spectrum sent me this story by Paula Jessop, a former autistic advisor for Altogether Autism.
In Jessop’s column “Autism no puzzle, nothing wrong with us,” she explains its history:
In 1963, Gerald Gasson, a board member of the National Autistic Society in the UK, created the single puzzle piece to symbolize that ASD is a puzzling condition that people are suffering with.
The National Autistic Society’s original symbol had a crying child on it to signify that people with ASD were somehow in pain.
In 1999, the Autism Society of America adopted the puzzle piece, adding a ribbon and saying it “reflects the complexity” of the spectrum. That organization said the bright colors signify hope that someday autistic people be able to live “full lives.”
The puzzle piece has also been famously (or infamously) adopted by Autism Speaks. Jessop and others say Autism Speak’s awareness campaigns have brought negative connotations into the discussion.
Today there are many alternatives to the puzzle piece if people choose to use them — an image of a butterfly; a light bulb with a puzzle piece in the middle; or the color blue, which is considered a calming color for people on the spectrum.
Another new logo is the infinity symbol, which is meant to represent inclusivity and an acceptance of the spectrum. It’s often seen with a rainbow gradient or in gold.
The Autism Society of America, meanwhile, has switched to a symbol of woven multicolored lines.
Its chief marketing officer, Kristyn Roth, reached out to me about their choice. Roth says an icon with multicolored woven lines is now a “recognizable symbol,” and explained further:
“The mark is a symbol for community, strength, equity, diversity, pathways and, of course, connection. The single threads of the Autism Society brand mark represent individuality and unique experiences that are simultaneously interconnected and woven to the greater community. The mark speaks to the interdependence and interconnectedness of the Autism community.”
Another question: Does everyone has to agree on one established logo or symbol? Maybe we can just agree that – to borrow from status-update nomenclature: It’s complicated.
My mistake was a reminder to me to get the full story and let others speak for themselves as much as possible. Though the puzzle piece is seen everywhere, it doesn’t mean it’s accepted by those it represents. Making assumptions about what everybody wants or needs never works. My own assumptions speak to the heart of why I started this column and my desire to learn from those who are living it.
There may never be a definitive answer to what “the best” logo is. Discussions are constantly evolving. Ten or 20 years from now, how will ASD be regarded? Our only puzzle now is why we can’t accurately and respectfully help those who are neurodiverse.
Learning from others can hopefully push things forward, a little bit at a time.
So the logo for “One in 44” may have to change again in the future, after some more debate and research. Just like understanding the fundamentals, it should be an ongoing discussion.
Weigh in with your thoughts about what symbol or color you like.
Transitions.
Transitions means the process of moving from one place or event to another, whether it’s leaving the house to go to school or the order in which you get ready for bed at night. Whereas non-neurodiverse people might have no trouble heading out the door for an impromptu dinner and a movie, it’s not as easy for autistic people to be spontaneous and can cause stress. Structure and routine for a neurodiverse person equals calm. When plans do change, social stories (short sentences with photo illustrations) can help by laying out all the new details in a clear, simple format and make things go much smoother for everyone!
