CW: discussions of abuse, criticism of autistic experiences
Alright, I’m going to cool it for a minute and actually offer some sympathy. Chances are, when you first read criticisms of ABA, you were pissed. I get it. When I first encountered it, I was very pissed — I mean perseverating-on-it-all-day, wrote-out-my-own-responses-to-the-articles fuming. How dare those autistic people say that all ABA is abuse? My ABA isn’t abuse. That’s old ABA, we don’t do that anymore! And Old Me’s personal favorite “trump card:” Yeah, well, thanks to ABA, you can get on the internet and bitch about it, so you’re welcome!
Before I go any further, even though I never actually said those things directly to any autistic person, I am deeply sorry for thinking that way. It was harmful and wrong, and I’ve learned better. I’m sorry it took me so long.
The point is, this stuff is very hard to hear. Most of us got into the field because we wanted to help. When we got there, we were also trained with an odd combination of “because science!” and “ABA is unquestionable!” Those two thought processes are in direct conflict with one another, but cognitive dissonance and mental gymnastics are a thing (and humans are freaking great at it). We come out of grad school feeling like we have the secret superpowers to save the world and no one else understands. We also come out of it with a history of reinforcement for winning arguments against some very invalid criticisms of ABA (yes, some criticisms are invalid).
Naturally, the first few times we encounter criticisms that may be valid, there’s going to be a bit of an extinction burst. New and increased maladaptive behaviors may appear. It’s important to stay consistent and the behaviors should reduce.
So what does that mean for us?
The steps to your learning journey
Step 1: Keep your mouth shut
Join the groups, follow the blogs, read the articles, but make a commitment to comment on nothing for at least 1 solid month. Don’t ask questions, don’t respond, and resist the urge to #NotMyABA. Have a loved one nearby for support so you can vent your frustrations and your disagreements, but keep them between you. And for the love of all that is holy, do not air those frustrations in public.
Step 2: If you need a break, take one
First, be sure to recognize the privilege in this act. You can snooze things, get off social media for a while, and choose to take a break from harsh criticisms and horror stories, but the people who are telling those stories and who have experienced that can’t snooze their trauma. They can’t take a break from the seemingly benign things in the world that will trigger terrible memories and feelings for them. Always be aware of that.
In light of that, I am saying to take a break anyway because this first dive takes a toll on your mental health, and there comes a point where you might not be able to absorb or learn anymore. While I truly want all BCBAs to change their behavior — and I do know a thing or two about behavior change — I know that sometimes the chemicals in your brain can get to a point where behavior change is not going to happen until all of that calms down. I had to do it myself — I snoozed everything for a month, and I took that time to breathe and absorb and reflect. When that month was up, I was ready to dive back in and keep learning again. It got easier.
Step 3: Lean into the discomfort
Likely the first feelings you have when you start are not going to be good ones. You’re going to feel angry, defensive, or maybe even heart-broken, guilty, and questioning your life choices. It’s important to lean into that and reflect.
Why did this make me so angry?
Why do I want to defend myself?
Chances are, if you are properly reflecting, you will make discoveries.
Why am I so angry? Because this specific technique being described is something I’ve done — a lot. I’m now reading about the harm it causes, and it breaks my heart that I did that to a child I cared about and thought I was helping.
Like a martial artist conditioning their bones and muscles to take repeated hits, it does get easier, but those first few hits suck. Don’t get me wrong, it will never stop hurting to hear these things (assuming you have a soul). We will have to carry the weight of our choices and their consequences forever, but you will be able to learn and move on faster.
Step 4: Now, you can engage
It’s been a rough month or two. You’ve been reading and digesting and hopefully remaining aware of the effects it’s having on you. Now, you may hit that comment button on a group post or blog, but just keep in mind the following:
- You are talking to traumatized people, and to them, you look like their abuser.
- They are offering their emotional labor to you for free. Never stop recognizing and appreciating that.
- Whatever questions you have were very likely asked by someone else before. Utilize the search function to keep people from having to rehash the same things again.
- Consider your vocabulary and wording.
- Ask and discuss in good faith. Anything you say should be to improve your understanding and not to defend yourself or ABA.
- If you are given feedback about something you say, take it and change your behavior.
- The feedback you get may be delivered in a way that is more direct than you are used to. Resist the urge to take it personally.
How did I change my mind?
As I demonstrated in the beginning, I wasn’t exactly open to feedback for quite a few years. So what changed my mind? Basically, I had my argument shattered in real time.
I don’t remember the exact question or phrasing, but someone was looking for advice on how to get an autistic client to choose more “age-appropriate” hobbies and activities. It was the most innocently-written of questions, but it hit me square in the face. It was a moment of clarity in which I had no other option but to realize “oh my god, it really is still happening.”
I started reading articles and posts with new eyes, and suddenly the entire world looked different. Considering that maybe I was wrong this whole time was the easiest part. It was the dissecting — the deeper digs — that that was hard, but I will never regret doing it. My only regret is how long it took me to get here.