Imagine for a moment that you lived in a world where the vast majority of people were different from you. They liked to eat something that you find disgusting: we’ll say gravel. Their humor relied on advanced knowledge of something that you didn’t have knowledge of, like string theory.
Every day that you turn on your television, you see shows making “fun” of people who don’t understand string theory and who don’t find chewing on gravel to be an ideal meal. Every day when you are at work, people look at your food and ask, “why aren’t you eating gravel? Is something wrong with you?” Every time that you try to make friends, they rapidly shoot lines back and forth about string theory that you don’t understand, and when they notice how lost you are, they shame you for it. When you try to tell them about something you find interesting, they call you “embarrassingly unscientific” or something, and exclude you.
So you’re tired, because it feels like the whole world is against you. And you go home and settle down for the day, and you call up a good friend because you just want to feel seen and understood. And your friend sees your dinner on the camera, and they say “Rockless dinner again? You’re so picky! It’s not hard to just sprinkle a little limestone on top, you know.” They then proceed to tell an elaborate joke about string theory, which they know you won’t understand, and then get angry when you don’t find it funny and tell you to lighten up.
Wouldn’t you feel terrible if this was how your ‘friend’ treated you? Would you really find their treatment “good-natured?”
Sure, some of your friends may actually be able to tolerate this ribbing. But the vast majority of autistic people are just tired of the constant jokes at their expense. They might not say anything about it, because it’s so commonplace that if they pushed back people would say they’re “making a scene.” Other downtrodden groups also face this and are stereotyped as “angry black women” etc when they put up boundaries about how others should treat them. And so many people learn to just grin and bear it, in the name of keeping the peace and avoiding drawing attention.
I’d also like to address this phrase specifically, emphasis mine:
A person’s ability to accept good natured humor at their expense […]
Autism is called a disability, meaning that there is a difference between the ability levels of autistic and non-autistic people for certain things. Some autistic people lack the ability to parse this kind of humor. It is not their fault. It is not a judgement on their character as a person. It’s merely a part of who they are. You don’t tell someone that they’re lesser as a person because they can’t shoot a bullseye, write with their non-dominant hand, do long division in their head, or understand recordings when played backwards. These things are as arbitrary as being able to understand sarcasm, to sit still, or to follow a conversation in a noisy room.
And, frankly, it’s not as funny as you think it is, so I don’t blame people for not thinking that it is. You seem somewhat defensive of your brand of humor — which I understand, because it can feel like some sort of judgement on your skill level or something — but can you not just… make other jokes?
Imagine for a moment that you lived in a world where the vast majority of people were different from you. They liked to eat something that you find disgusting: we’ll say gravel. Their humor relied on advanced knowledge of something that you didn’t have knowledge of, like string theory.
Every day that you turn on your television, you see shows making “fun” of people who don’t understand string theory and who don’t find chewing on gravel to be an ideal meal. Every day when you are at work, people look at your food and ask, “why aren’t you eating gravel? Is something wrong with you?” Every time that you try to make friends, they rapidly shoot lines back and forth about string theory that you don’t understand, and when they notice how lost you are, they shame you for it. When you try to tell them about something you find interesting, they call you “embarrassingly unscientific” or something, and exclude you.
So you’re tired, because it feels like the whole world is against you. And you go home and settle down for the day, and you call up a good friend because you just want to feel seen and understood. And your friend sees your dinner on the camera, and they say “Rockless dinner again? You’re so picky! It’s not hard to just sprinkle a little limestone on top, you know.” They then proceed to tell an elaborate joke about string theory, which they know you won’t understand, and then get angry when you don’t find it funny and tell you to lighten up.
Wouldn’t you feel terrible if this was how your ‘friend’ treated you? Would you really find their treatment “good-natured?”
Sure, some of your friends may actually be able to tolerate this ribbing. But the vast majority of autistic people are just tired of the constant jokes at their expense. They might not say anything about it, because it’s so commonplace that if they pushed back people would say they’re “making a scene.” Other downtrodden groups also face this and are stereotyped as “angry black women” etc when they put up boundaries about how others should treat them. And so many people learn to just grin and bear it, in the name of keeping the peace and avoiding drawing attention.
I’d also like to address this phrase specifically, emphasis mine:
Autism is called a disability, meaning that there is a difference between the ability levels of autistic and non-autistic people for certain things. Some autistic people lack the ability to parse this kind of humor. It is not their fault. It is not a judgement on their character as a person. It’s merely a part of who they are. You don’t tell someone that they’re lesser as a person because they can’t shoot a bullseye, write with their non-dominant hand, do long division in their head, or understand recordings when played backwards. These things are as arbitrary as being able to understand sarcasm, to sit still, or to follow a conversation in a noisy room.
And, frankly, it’s not as funny as you think it is, so I don’t blame people for not thinking that it is. You seem somewhat defensive of your brand of humor — which I understand, because it can feel like some sort of judgement on your skill level or something — but can you not just… make other jokes?