Translator: Leonardo Silva
Reviewer: Rhonda Jacobs My name is Elisabeth Wiklander, and I - I am autistic. What do you think about
when you hear the word "autistic"? How do you react
when you hear the word "autism"? Would you say that it is
a lifelong disorder? An impairment? A disability? This is indeed the way
medical language describes it, but autism is so much more than that. No diagnostic manual can truly explain
the multifaceted experience of autism. It is a neurological difference, with a vast spectrum of representation
within its population. It can come with
remarkable gifts and skills, as well as devastating traits. But autism doesn't necessarily
equal disability. And thankfully, today we have a word
that challenges this negative terminology: "neurodiversity." Neurodiversity describes
how diverse we are as human beings, from a neurological perspective. It suggests that the many variations
of human brains, like autistic ones, should be accepted
as a natural and valuable part of humanity's genetic legacy. DNA shows us that autism
is primarily a genetic condition, something that has been
passed down through generations and is still widely shared
in the general population. These genes can carry
something so positive, in spite of the difference they cause, that they have persisted
throughout our evolution and still flourish today. Some of our important inventions, pieces of art and music, and discoveries in scientific fields
that have moved our world forwards come from autistic minds. With today's exciting
new technologies in neuroscience, we have seen that autistic brains
differ from the norm. Not only that, but it appears as if each and every one
differs in its own unique way. So, autism is rich in expression, but still faces limiting generalizations. Today, I want to talk
about the autism that I display, the one that blends with normality and can have catastrophic impacts
on people's lives, not necessarily because
of the autism itself, but because of the ignorance of it or the failure to recognize
that it is there in the first place, as I eventually would discover. Now, in social situations, we do have expectations upon one another. We use a certain kind of rulebook, which, when followed,
rewards us with social acceptance. But I always felt that I was different. The trouble was I couldn't explain how,
and certainly not why. It felt as if I had been provided
a different rulebook, and that I lacked a community
to fall back upon, that could confirm to me that the way
I interpreted the world was valid too. So, I grew up feeling very misunderstood, by pretty much everybody, even within my own family. If I applied what would have been
my motives, my intentions upon someone else's
behavior, or vice-versa, the outcome was often negative
and very confusing. So to me, the social world
became scary and unpredictable. Now, I did notice, however, especially
during my school years here in Sweden, that my mind had been blessed with gifts, like analytical skills
and intense mental focus, high capacity for memorizing information, which made studying
very pleasurable and easy. So in my academic pursuit,
I came here to Göteborg, where I studied at the university. I later went to the Netherlands,
where I attained my Master of Music. And today, I live in the UK, working as a professional cellist
in the London Philharmonic Orchestra, touring the world. But this, however,
is quite unusual for me, to stand on a stage just talking to you,
without my instrument. I can't help the feeling
that I have forgotten it somewhere. Okay, so one may now think, "Okay, she plays in this great orchestra. She's obviously done pretty well
for herself. What's the problem?" Well, I have a very literal mind, and it constantly clashes
with both nonverbal and verbal subtleties in social situations. It gives me a very direct line of approach
and speech in everyday conversations. I still don't really understand
the purpose of small talk, although I can appreciate it now. And jokes and sarcasm
fly completely over my head. My mind just takes things in so literally. It loves to analyze everything. My world is a very intense one. My senses are heightened. My brain absorbs everything in
through an amplifier. My special interests
can completely consume me. And my emotions, they go from the highest of high
to the lowest of low, and they're on and off
like a light switch. My family, bless them, they can still stand in utter disbelief when I go from a complete nuclear blast
to rainbows and butterflies in less than two seconds. Literally. So, okay, autism influences my thoughts, my imagination, my senses, my emotions, and the way I process information. But without knowing this, it was very difficult
to maintain friendships, because our social expectations
were so different. I could come across as odd, and I experienced
a good amount of bullying for it. But the most devastating, the most devastating were
the eroding misunderstandings that dominated the relationships
with the people closest to me. Body signals? Misread. Words? Completely misinterpreted. It was so frustrating. It was like fighting a ghost, something that no one could really grasp, not even the counselors
we sought for help! So it was a mentally agonizing situation, that persisted year after year, and in my mid-twenties,
I had reached a really dark place and I started to be
truly scared for my future. But then, something extraordinary happened
that changed everything. In 2006, I heard about
Asperger's syndrome. It is already an outdated term today, but it is still a form of autism, on the high-functioning end
of the spectrum. Three years later,
when I was 28 years old, I received this diagnosis, and I realized that
a good third of my life had been based upon
a false perception of myself. Imagine that! No wonder my life had been so confusing! But now, now I started to see myself
in a new, clear context. My whole life and all my experiences
just started to make sense! This launched me on an incredible journey
of enlightenment and transformation. I had finally been given something that allowed me to explore the relativity
of my perception of the world compared to others'. I gained access into
that mysterious rulebook, and I could start comparing it with mine. And so, I learned
to identify my differences. So in the coming years, I found efficient ways
to improve my social skills. I learned to verbalize my needs, recognize my limitations and develop my strengths. I found successful strategies
to navigate my everyday life and significantly improved all
the "disabling traits" of my diagnosis. But this took a lot of commitment,
dedication and hard work. Because autism is a spectrum, I had to become like a researcher and collect a lot of information
from a lot of different sources over a long period of time in order to be able to complete
my unique life puzzle. When I thought that I had reached the
level of conformity that society demanded, I kept feeling that something
was not quite right. Something was still missing. I could change the way I acted, but I cannot change the way I am. My natural, biological calibration
is and always will be autistic. And the problem I had now was to live up
to these new high social standards that I had set for myself. I had come to understand my differences. But as you all know,
a relationship is a two-way street. Without acceptance
and understanding for the real me, I would never be truly happy, and this prompted me to one day
make quite a radical move. On April 2, 2015, I announced my autism on social media, and I started to talk about it
with everybody, openly. Bang! Just like that. I admit it was absolutely terrifying, because I had encountered
what was out there, the stigma, the prejudice. I was very afraid that people would put their
preconceived ideas of autism onto me, rather than letting me show them
what autism can look like. But this didn't happen. What happened was
that my life changed completely almost overnight. I was met with curiosity, and support started to flood in
from everywhere: from friends, from family,
from colleagues, and from people I didn't even know. Media started to take notice, and people who recognized
themselves in my story started to contact me,
from near and far, for help. Seeing how common the situation was and how efficiently it could be reversed
using the same tools that I had, it inspired me to share
my experience further: that the knowledge of neurodiversity opens
new communication channels between us by identifying differences
we didn't know of before, because they have been
hidden in our minds. It unlocked my world
with a key to identify my differences and to communicate these
in a way that we could all understand. So today, I'm a very happy person. I have got some wonderful friendships, I've connected deeper
with my family members, and I'm experiencing what it is to be
in a happy, healthy relationship with a wonderful man, who is thankfully also very patient, because misunderstandings,
they still do happen. But now, now they can be resolved, so they're no longer a threat
to our relationship. We have taught one another
to read each other's rulebooks, and it is enriching both of our lives. I'm still autistic, but I love it. I embrace it! I can no longer align myself
with the word "disabled," because in retrospect, I understand that the suffering that I have experienced
does not stem from my autism itself, but from the impacts
of ignorance about it. So if we need a cure for anything,
it's not for autism; it's for ignorance and intolerance. Differences are always challenging, but they are equally what makes this world
such a beautiful and spectacular place. Recognizing how we differ from each other
from a neurological perspective helps us to coexist more smoothly without having to carve so much
in our authenticity, allowing our natural skills, talents
and creativity more freedom to roam, not just for people
on the autism spectrum, but for all. By joining forces, we can create
a larger picture of ourselves and inspire each other on new levels. The autistic population
is not an insignificant one. In the UK only, we are nearly one million people. So knowingly or not, you will find us
amongst your friends and colleagues. We might be a family member, your boss, or a neighbor. You might have fallen in love
with someone on the autism spectrum. Why? Why must we wear a one-size-fits-all
because it fits the majority of people? Should what is neurologically accepted
be determined by what's the majority? Is human value determined
by what is the majority? No, of course not. But yet, a lot of autistic
individuals, too many, can still not access
their basic rights as citizens because ignorance of our difference
still permeates every aspect of society. We deserve the same access to education, with knowledge and flexibility regarding
our unique information processing. We deserve the same access
to the workforce, with understanding for our sensitivity to social deciphering and sensory input. We deserve appreciation
and recognition for our skills, and we deserve the same access
to adequate help and support where the true source of our struggle
is better recognized. All services have to start evolving towards taking
neurodiversity into account, or a lot of people will continue
to fall through the net, and that is ultimately harmful
to our entire society. It is unacceptable that because some
don't fit a standard norm, they risk being bullied,
discriminated, labeled as impaired, and pushed to the edge of society,
becoming spectators behind a glass wall. It is a weakness that deprives us
of contributions from unique minds that are valuable to us all, because they're different, because they think outside the box. The quirky kid from school, like me, has just as much to offer
the world as anybody else. Every human being is a resource, and society has to broaden its framework
to allow everyone a place in it. This may seem a daunting task,
but we mustn't be discouraged. Extraordinary things can
and have been done by ordinary people, no matter through which spectrum
we perceive the world. Thank you. (Applause)
