Post 11: The universal squeeze box of gender and autism.

My, oh, my. I’m in the mud with this one, “Clear as mud,” when it comes to clarity of my opinion trying to answer many of Erica’s posed questions. This is not to say that they are not all worth asking, discussing, tugging back and forth and coming to strong conclusions and plans-of-action for diversifying and expanding the conversation when it comes to gender. This is to say that from our conversations of race, to gender, to disabilities, they are all mixing into one soup of conversation. In some ways, all three have themes that I would argue are not universal but pose their own benefits and detriments. Hir is not a universal play to me. It may bring of conversations of shared experience to the forefront that one could ‘relate to’ such as PTSD, male dominance, and teenage rebellion, but it discolors each beyond stereotypical recognition, the military son coming home being the least affected, the daughter/son being brainwashed, the mother seeking disorder over order. These choices stand stereotypical universality on its head. Perhaps “universal” is a term that has been previous used to unite whereas it seems to exlude anyone that fits into the queer theory concept. Hir hurls in our face tropes of gender specific stereotypes and then mixes it up in a blender to communicate something that could be argued as universal for the sake of being universal but too difficult to swallow in too many other instances to ignore. Also, the world “universal” has taken on this generalized fog much like a large magnet that many particles have gravitated toward for its prettiness. It is endowed with the ability to smooth over hard edges or mask the harshness of a provocative statement for the sake of dulling the sense or reaction. In doing so, its effectiveness has worn off. So to me it’s like a tasteless strawberry shortcake. What’s the point if the taste is gone?

Perhaps I can look a little differently at “universal themes,” see themes that bridge gender conversations with other themes in disability or race, and investigate what exactly is universal between them. I can think of and name a piece of film worth investigating, “Temple Grandin.”  I was exposed to this gem when I was substitute teaching for a high school special education classroom because the teacher was downtown for the day with the entire districts of special needs teachers for a presentation by the real Temple Grandin. They left the movie for us to watch and I was fascinated. The HBO special was based on her real life. Claire Daines plays the title character, an autistic engineer who transforms the cattle industry and raises awareness of autism and female independence simply by being herself and never giving up. In some ways, her “femaleness” and lack of cynicism provided a buffer for which to thrive as she was making her way.  Her autism made her laughable in some populations to where, when she transformed the cattle industry by redesigning the slaughter flow to keep the cows moving and not afraid, it was as if she passed through the white male gates undetected. The workers were dumbfounded by her discoveries and their significant increase in productivity.

As a person with autism, she detested being physically touched, but she desperately needed to still be squeezed. She created a “squeeze” machine that she could operate herself. Seeing how it worked on her, she built one for cows that kept them calm in the slaughter line.  She saw the fear in the cattle when they were being groomed for the slaughter line and it made her very uncomfortable. Her own need to be “squeezed” clicked with the possibility that they might need the same. She would have never discovered the similarity between her need for compression in order to remove panic and the cows need for the same had she not spent time on a ranch with her folks, working with animals who had a different sense than people. In this case, this was a real female character, the protagonist of the story, and an innovator of the new way of herding cattle in preparation for slaughter. This particular example, before any adding to the story has something deeper, though I would argue is not a universal story. She, a female (regardless of the autism piece) was an engineer in a male dominated field in the 70’s and 80’s when women were rarely allowed, let alone adding her autism piece (which I would support was the reason she was so widely accepted, because she was different than the female norm. She was less distracting in appearance and behavior because she didn’t act stereotypically feminine nor behaviorally normal. In fact, her directness was off-putting to say the least as she was portrayed in the film.) What was liberating to me was that she brought awareness to a male dominant part of the world that women can be smart, women can be strong, women can stand their ground and be persistent in the workforce (not just the home), and people with autism should also be valued and respected. Claire Daines does not actually have autism, but represents Temple well in her portrayal based on my experiences with people who have autism and the information we have of the real woman. It seems to me that a “fake out” often can be more effective than hitting an issue head on. Perhaps, in addition to presenting solid female characters, we also invite odd side jabs, and side door tactics to outflank the army we work against (and in some cases “with”). In this case, because Temple Grandin was the outsider, she broke through. Much like we can see signifiers as a detriment or a benefit, using opportunities to our advantage, when presented, will help empower women for a more universally representational system.