To raising Autism awareness and Acceptance, and battling negative stereotypes about Autism.
To advocate for the inclusion of Autistic people in the community.
To offer a forum to broadcast our stories and thoughts, and to help the messages of Autistic people and non-Austistic allies reach as many people as possible.
the voiceless corners inside her brain surrendered pictures after blowing their insides out, clean and eviscerated of the cobwebs and liquid shadow first, the walls on either side of her grew lockers and sprouted
until their squared shoulders sliced clouds, and burst them open (somewhere, Kate Bush waited for the resulting rain to fall) while Aanteekwa watched those mammoth concrete giants squeezed closer together until they pressed against her blue chambray-capped arms a hummingbird flew into a window
and the candy colored hallway debutantes joined it a rainbow of brightly feathered ebony prom queens sailed above her head while pink taffeta grew in vines around her body and dug fangs into her skin meanwhile, the party lights in the gymnasium
exploded out of their translucent shells and shined double-bladed sword bodies from ceiling to floor the earth and sky cleaved apart in chasm glory one of those jagged-tooth maws in the floor opened under her feet
for once, she was grateful to fall
in a shadow-washed bedroom (at the house on Seventeenth?) midnight, the middle of May the moon’s baleful eye thrown through an open window while the curtains leaned against the window frame arched their backs, trying to hide from its trajectories
the past falls from her eyes moon dust dying before it forgets itself and tries to stop her hands from flapping she cannot achieve liftoff it is 1961 she is seventeen and alone
For Autistics Speaking Day: Helen R. Jones, or Aanteekwa as she is known later, is a black woman born in 1943 (December 8, to be exact) who is likely autistic. She struggles socially, is more interested in books than in fashion, and can never meet up to the expectations of her mother, who is a socialite wannabe (on a steel mill worker’s salary, no less) in the Black community of Steelville, Ohio, where Helen is born and lives out her life. Helen’s mother pressured her to suppress her flapping habit as a little girl. Helen/Aanteekwa is a fictional construct, but I think speaking about her today gives a voice to what many of us went through as teenagers…that is, feeling as an outsider.