Deaf studies meets autistic studies

Abstract

What might deaf studies and autistic studies have in common? Why, in many cases, is deafness considered to be a norm to be analyzed through linguistic and cultural frameworks, while autism is (still) seen as pathological? Utilizing ethnographic research, participation in two conferences on autism and sign language, and an analysis of deaf peoples’ and autistic peoples’ self-(re)presentation, we attend to sensory solidarities that might exist between deaf and autistic people, communities, and studies. We argue that an analysis of the two fields side-by-side offers important insights into new ways of conceptualizing sociality, identity, and community both in the specific cases of deafness and autism, and more broadly. Additionally, attending to deaf and autistic peoples’ language and communication desires and practices opens up analytic and empirical space for considering interdependent and multimodal communicative approaches.

Keywords:

• Deafness
• autism
• neurodiversity
• neuroqueer
• sociality
• signed languages
• disability
• communication

Acknowledgements

We thank Heather Thomas, Mike Gill, and Morton Ann Gernsbacher for helpful feedback on this essay. We also thank our interlocutors and of course Mark Aronoff and Matthew Lerner for their work in putting the two Conversations on Autism and Sign Language together. Pamela thanks Hope Block, Estee Klar and Adam Wolfond for all of their support and Michele thanks Mara Green and Stephanie Lloyd for helpful conversations. We also thank two anonymous reviewers from Senses & Society and the journal’s amazing editor, David Howes.

Notes

1. While we recognize the important work that claiming “capital D” Deaf has done for deaf people around the world, for simplicity’s sake we attempt to consistently write deaf in the lower case except for when mentioning concepts or terms that are typically written with capitalized Ds. Apologies for any inconsistencies that may exist; hopefully readers will see these inconsistencies as productive.

2. ABA was developed by Lovaas (see Lovaas 1987) to change the behavior of effeminate men. When it did not seem to work (or was not popular), he switched the focus to use the technique with autistic people. It involves pressuring autistic children to behave and communicate in ways considered appropriate to the therapist in consultation with other professionals and parents. Though considered a gold standard behavioral intervention, many autistic scholars and activists describe ABA as coercive and even painful for the autistic person on whom it is enacted (Gruson-Wood 2016). Parallels can be drawn between ABA and forcing deaf children to sit on their hands and teaching deaf children how to speak.

3. We also draw on conversations with Elizabeth Grace, Morton Ann Gernsbacher, and Melanie Yergeau at the two CASL conferences. We thank Mark Aronoff and Matthew Lerner for their work in putting CASL together.

4. Note that “loud hands” is meant as a rejoinder and counter-narrative to medical professionals’ and rehabilitation professionals’ request for “quiet hands” from autistic people. Thank you to Heather Thomas for pointing this out.

5. We want to flag a recent discussion in deaf studies around the perceived prominence of sign language linguistics and the sense that resources are channeled towards linguistic research on signed languages and not towards research on deaf peoples’ histories and experiences. (see https://pigscanfly.blog/2017/05/03/im-not-a-linguist-but-revisited/). This discussion is of relevance in considering trajectories of research on autism: how to ensure that resources are not heavily funneled towards understanding autistic peoples’ language use and not towards understanding autistic peoples’ senses of identity, culture, and community?

6. As Mike Gill pointed out to us in personal communication, the figure of autism is often seen to be a child in need of protection and support as propagated by Autism Speaks, for example. In contrast, in recent popular media representations, deafness is embodied by Nyle DiMarco, the recent winner of America’s Next Top Model and Dancing with the Stars, or Marlee Matlin, an acclaimed actress, for example.

7. This practice, while designed to enhance meeting accessibility for autistic people, is inaccessible to some blind and visually impaired people who are not able to see the stickers.

8. To be clear, deaf signers still face much discrimination and signed languages are not universally recognized and celebrated. And prior to signed languages being recognized, signers were seen as animal-like and less than human; they were forced to sit on their hands or were restrained in other ways. Similarly, autistic people that stim or flap are currently seen as sub-human and are restrained.

9. To be sure, this is a utopian vision and Pamela has witnessed the establishment of hierarchies, boundaries, and rules around speaking and what is considered acceptable behavior and practice at autism conferences and in everyday interactions. However, we are interested in the aspirational aspects of this definition and proclamation of neuroqueerness.

10. We have yet to see deaf people adopt the language of neurodiversity. While Bauman and Murray (2014, xxi) discuss the neurodiversity movement and locate deaf peoples’ contributions to human and biodiversity alongside it, they do not conceptualize deaf people as neurodiverse themselves. And while (deaf and hearing) neuroscience researchers research how deaf peoples’ brains might differ from those belonging to hearing people, this has not been considered an example of neurodiversity. In addition, as evidenced on an All Deaf discussion thread, deaf people can shun the label of neurodiversity and see it as negative (https://www.alldeaf.com/threads/are-deaf-people-neurodivergent.126792/). Michele thanks Stephanie Lloyd for discussions around this topic as well.