17 October 2013

Daily Dose of Violent Gross Ew

Trigger warning: Use of slurs against transgender people, transphobia, cissexism, gender essentialism, Islamophobia, ableism, sanism, threat of violence, violence, mention of Christianity




Daily Dose of Violent Gross Ew



Here's your daily dose of violent gross ew. Todd Kincannon, a former GOP Executive, posted the following messages to his Twitter this week:

There are people who respect transgender rights. And there are people who think you should all be put in a camp. That’s me.

I have plenty of compassion for trannies. They should all be locked up in mental institutions and their care paid for by the state.

Jews, brown people, and gays are born that way. It’s ok to hate trannies because they choose trannyism. Just like Muslims.

How about “dickchicks”? Or “disgusting goddamn weirdos that all normal people hate who need serious mental health treatment”?

There is no sane heterosexual or homosexual man who enjoys dickchicks.

You freaks are about to legitimately creep me out. Good lord. You look like a nightmare.

Gayness is not a mental illness, but wanting to exchange your junk for somebody else’s sure as fuck is. Silence of the Lambs shit

My brain functions far better than your disgusting tranny vajayjay.

[My reaction to suicide] depends on who it is that offs themselves. There are plenty of people the world would be better off without.

Tell me, if you were a suicidal dickchick, wouldn’t you go to a mental institution instead of arguing with me on Twitter?

Even trannies hate trannies. That one who offed itself in Belgium a week or so ago is living (ha!) proof of that.

You can go ahead and read some of the context at this article.

I don't have much to say. I was literally staring at my screen with my jaw practically unhinged.


(It's a hand-drawn picture of me wearing a t-shirt and pants, giving the double bird -- both middle fingers. The text written around the picture says, "Dear Mr. Kincannon, Thank you SO much for your violent, vitriolic bile today. It's totally AWESOME when you get to encourage violence against trans* people and allies, spice it up with some ableism, and toss in a pinch of Islamophobia to boot. You've managed to thoroughly disgust me. Congratulations. And that is all. Love, Autistic Hoya" with a heart after that.)

HE REFERRED TO A TRANS PERSON WHO KILLED THEMSELF AS AN "IT." AN IT.

And this guy probably calls himself a Christian. It's no wonder people assume I'm a hateful, prejudiced piece of shit when I say that I'm a Christian.

08 October 2013

Library Reject

So this is me every time I go to a library. 



Image description: It is a handrawn cartoon in black felt tip pen. The title says "Every time I go to the library: by Autistic Hoya." Beneath that are three columns. The panel in the first column contains a drawing of a young female-presenting person labeled "me" wearing a t-shirt and pants, with a bag slung over her shoulder, with her right hand in the air and index finger pointing upward, giving a big smile as she says "Check out ALL the books!" The panel in the second column contains a drawing of a young female-presenting person with curly shoulder length hair, wearing a turtleneck, sitting behind a desk with a Dell desktop monitor and keyboard and a little simmering anger above her head, labeled librarian, as she says "YOU HAVE THIRTY-NINE OVERDUE BOOKS. YOU OWE US $79.95. ALL UR MONNEHS R BELONG TO US." The panel in the third column is split horizontally. The first, top, one has the same person from the first panel with a sadface as she says, "Awww..." and then the second, bottom, one has the same person with her head planted on the desk, only hair visible, and her right fist there, as she says, "Damnit." 

07 October 2013

Drawing as Non-Compliance

I draw because I am a visual thinker, like many (certainly not all!) autistics. My natural, most basic, automatic mode of processing is not linguistic; it is visual and conceptual. I have developed an incredibly fast processing speed for translating images to language and vice versa, but it is still a translation process. I don't learn well from aural methods of teaching, and that is probably exacerbated by auditory processing difficulties.

An illustration--

If I am in a lecture classroom where the mode of teaching is the professor standing in front of the room and speaking for an hour, expecting students to absorb the information and later process it into their existing frameworks, I will not retain the vast majority of the information. I will remember only some of what was said, and not most of the substance.

That is, if I weren't drawing.

...

When I draw, the act of drawing serves as a mediating process between the auditory teaching style of the professor and my baseline mode of processing thought.

I draw to help process my emotions.

I draw to help process conceptual material that I'm supposed to learn.

I draw to help release anxiety.

I draw because I find myself so thoroughly engaged with the movement of pen against paper, cross-hatching, shading, etching lines and contours against the background, that it enables me to understand the world around me and yet produce something in return.

...

"Hi, Professor Muhammad, can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Sure."

"So, you may have noticed me drawing in your class. I just wanted to let you know that when I do that, it's to help me pay attention. I don't mean to be disrespectful or rude, so I just wanted to tell you that I need to draw in order to retain the information."

"Okay, fine, that's no problem."

Those are the better conversations.

There are also the worse ones.

"Lydia, can I talk to you after class?"

"Sure."

"You've been very rude and disrespectful. You come to class and it's like you check in and then check out. I see you drawing there all the time."

"I'm sorry if I've come across that way, but I do think I talked to you earlier in the semester, and I don't draw to be disrespectful or rude or to ignore you. It's not that I'm not paying attention; I can't pay attention unless I'm drawing."

...

"You must never pay attention."

That's a common one.

And then there was the time a marshal asked me why I was being rude in court and demanded to know if I had a legitimate reason to be present (I did) because I was drawing. In the back row. Quietly.

...

If someone needs to sit on the floor to listen, let them.

If someone needs to pace around the room to listen, let them.

If someone needs to look anywhere but at your eyes to listen, let them.

If someone needs to flap their hands or arms to listen, let them.

If someone needs to draw to listen, let them.

Let them.

...

Compliance is the dominant ideology. If we don't still our hands and feet, sit straight in our chairs, and look the instructor (or whomever is in the position of authority) in the eye while we listen in silence, then we are not learning. We are deemed incapable of learning.

This paradigm must shift toward one that accepts and encourages many ways of interacting with space, with one's own body/mind, with the world around oneself -- toward a paradigm that understands and respects the ways that we move and think and sense and learn naturally.

...

If your student or your employee or your friend is drawing while someone else is talking, don't assume rudeness, inattention, or disrespect.

Just let me draw.

I promise I'm doing my work and I promise I know what I'm doing.

I might even tell you about the drawing if you ask.

...

Here's a drawing I did while performing an auditory-information-heavy task at work this summer. I completed the drawing over a period of three days, working on it for several hours each day.


Image description: This is a black and white drawing. I used a black roller ball pen (the same one I use for notes and homework). The drawing depicts a group of people standing in a hallway. The two leftmost figures are a tall, middle-aged white man and woman. The man has thick, dark curly hair, and a big bushy beard and mustache. He is wearing round glasses and looks pensive. He has a dark shirt and slightly lighter pants, and has his arm around the woman's waist. The woman has straight, fair hair that falls to below her breasts, and she is staring forward with her arms crossed. She is wearing a light-colored turtleneck with a lighter colored sweater/wrap over dark pants. Behind these two people, to their left, and center of the picture, is a short, older white man with white hair combed back, wearing rectangular glasses, a medium-colored tie, a collared dress shirt, and a dark vest over medium pants. He is holding his left arm with his right hand and is looking toward the right-hand side of the picture. Behind the three of them is the back of a woman's head with short, poofy hair, wearing dark clothing. Behind her is a person wearing dark clothing with their back turned to the viewer, with very light-colored hair. Behind and beside that person is an older Black man with short, curly gray hair, wearing a dark suit, light dress shirt, and medium tie, signing "what?" with his right hand and forearm extended in front of him. To the right of him is a younger Black woman with bust-length curled hair, wearing a light-colored pantsuit, dark shirt, and multi-layered necklace. Slightly in front of her is an older white woman with short, dark, shoulder-length hair, wearing a dark pantsuit and leaning on a dark cane in her right hand. Behind both her and the Black woman is a middle-aged white man with bushy dark hair, also wearing a dark pantsuit and tie. To the rightmost of the picture, in the foreground, is a dark-complexioned woman with long dark hair and a widow's peak, wearing long metal earrings, a pendant around her neck, a dark long-sleeve shirt, and a skirt. She is holding a notepad in her left hand and writing with her right hand. Behind her is a person with short curled hair wearing a dark jacket that says MARSHAL on the back, entering a doorway leading into another room or hallway. 

This is an illustration of a scene in my current, seventh novel.

The man farthest to the left isn't a major character in the novel, or at least, not the central one.

But I've noticed that when I grab a pen and start drawing, if I'm not doing so intentionally and deliberately to depict a particular person or scene, I begin to draw him.

I've memorized the contours of his face, his hairlines, his expressions, the variations on his facial hair. His image is a comforting routine, a certainty, one my hand knows intimately and expertly.

His face appears throughout the pages of my notebooks and pieces of scrap paper I collect at conferences.

His image is so common among my things that my friends now recognize him. They know his name. They know which novel of mine he's from. They know his face.

After all, I draw it all the time.

...

I should also note that I draw for fun.

But I suppose I should expect my drawing to be pathologized anyway.

It's already a marker of my non-compliance.

And for that reason, when I draw, it is sometimes dangerous.