It’s astonishing to think that the first person to be diagnosed with autism, Donald Triplett, has died.
Donald reached the grand old age of 89, and was diagnosed in childhood. Before the 1940s, effectively, autism did not medically exist. A condition which didn’t appear out of nowhere, and forms part of a range of conditions with which a fifth of the population can identify. A fifth of the global population is neurodivergent.
Another condition, ADHD, was first noticed by the Scottish doctor Alexander Crichton in the late eighteenth century, but wasn’t diagnosed formally until the 1960s, having traits reclassified again in the '80s and '90s.
These conditions, identities for many, as they are ways of being rather than illness with symptoms, are disabilities. And yet the first autistic person was not identified until within living memory
There were medieval autistic people. Tudors. Edwardians. But none of them would have been recognised as such. And without proper attention paid to our conditions, we can’t be diagnosed. And without diagnoses, there is no impetus for research and development or greater support, either medically or socially.
A fifth of the population is estimated to be neurodivergent. A fifth of the population is formally recognised as being Disabled. Double that is known to live with chronic pain. Which means, in practice, far more of us live with disability than we admit out loud, either as individuals, or as a society.
Disability is not a dirty word. But it’s still a hidden word.
At the moment, the nation has gone rainbow crazy, as huge numbers of businesses temporarily rebrand, along with many towns, to support Pride, the month-long LGBTQIA+ festival.
I love a rainbow. I love a strong show of joyful, celebratory support for parts of society which don’t always have it easy. And I love the absolute delight that Pride marches bring to towns and cities across the UK. It’s like a disco slightly too hot Christmas for one lovely weekend. I’m not heterosexual. This is also my tribe.
But it does beg the question – where is the purple? The colour of disability is purple. We speak of the purple pound. Purple light up has been trying to light up the UK in December for years now with limited success. Where are the dances, the bands, the marches, the celebrations of the huge swathe of Disabled people that make up by far the largest minority in this country? Where are the businesses lining up to rebrand for us every year (Cadbury and Ribena, you don’t count, but you could make a bigger thing of it – call me?)
3 November is Purple Tuesday, which acknowledges our economic worth. 3 December is International Day of Persons With Disabilities. Where are the businesses and Councils looking to bookend a month for us with purple celebrations?
If our disabilities are ignored, as they have been for centuries, then our needs go ignored. Whether it’s the medical profession not recognising our traits and symptoms, despite us self advocating strongly for what we need, or society at large, which still doesn’t provide for us to enter buildings, take up employment, access leisure facilities, or even the great outdoors, or have anywhere near parity of standards of living or access compared with non-Disabled people, we’re still not acknowledged as we should be. Not supported. And definitely not celebrated.
There are four months until Purple Tuesday. This is a call to business across the UK. To every company who put out the rainbow flag, or even the Twister mat, to purple up, in branding, in words, and most importantly, in deeds. We’re here. Some of us are queer. All of us are Disabled. Get over it. Look at us. Embrace us. Make things accessible for us. As ever – it’s time.
The colour of disability is purple. We speak of the purple pound. Purple light up has been trying to light up the UK in December for years now with limited success. Where are the dances, the bands, the marches, the celebrations of the huge swathe of Disabled people that make up by far the largest minority in this country?
