I can vividly remember the moment I realised that people were frightened of my brother. I was 18, and my boss at the time was telling me about how a couple of days earlier he had taken his little girl down to the local playground. My brother, who loves 2)slides and is severely autistic, had been there. “I was frightened that he would hurt my little girl,” he told me. I’m still not sure why he told me this (generally local people had been kind and understanding), but it made me want to hit him.
I imagine the fury and hurt I felt then is something akin to how the family of Faruk Ali are feeling, only more so, days after their autistic son was allegedly beaten in the street by two police officers as he was outside his house, in slippers, helping the 3)binmen collect rubbish. Collecting rubbish probably made him happy—many autistic people enjoy organising and systematising, and for his simple enjoyment of this task to be disrupted in such a seemingly violent way simply because he looked “suspicious” must have been incredibly 4)traumatic.

Disabled people and their relatives are acutely aware of the fear and ignorance that the general public is capable of. But the realization that this can sometimes turn into violence is a terrifying prospect. For the mother of Andrew Young, a man with Asperger’s syndrome who was killed by a single punch after pointing out that cycling on the pavement was dangerous, this nightmare came true. Some with Asperger’s believe it’s very important to follow rules, but telling someone so can hardly be construed as “menacing”, as his killer alleged. He was sentenced to four and a half years in prison—a pathetic sentence, for a pathetic person.
Obviously, autistic people can behave in ways that “neurotypical” people see as strange. It sounds 5)glib to say, but I have always been grateful that my brother is, objectively, very handsome. It means that people are kinder, and they smile at him in the street. Teenage girls occasionally check him out, 6)only for him to start flapping his hands or 7)hooting or bounding down the pavement.
And it’s not just tough for those with autism, but people with mental illnesses, people who have certain mobility problems, people with conditions such as 8)Tourette’s and 9)OCD; basically anyone whose behaviour might not fit the majority definition of “normal”. In January, in North Carolina, a teenage boy had a 10)schizophrenic episode and was shot dead by police. The same month, two California police officers were 11)acquitted of beating a schizophrenic homeless man to death as he cried for his father. Last year, in Maryland, a man with 12)Down’s syndrome was 13)suffocated to death while being arrested after refusing to leave a cinema.
I could keep listing cases, but I’m starting to think that the police just need to train officers who are sensitive and educated enough to deal with disabled people on a day to day basis. The police are supposed to be there for everyone, but with all the disability discrimination, institutional racism and victim-blaming of sexually 14)assaulted women, I’m wondering who they’re really there for at all. There was something else I felt that day, alongside the anger and the hurt from being told that my brother appeared dangerous. It was shame. Illogical and 15)unwarranted shame, that he and by extension we were different from the others, and that our differences caused them discomfort. I never want to feel that way again, nor should anyone else.

那個瞬間仍然歷歷在目。在那一刻,我意識到:人們害怕我弟弟。那年我十八歲,我當時的老板描述了幾天前他帶著小女兒去附近游樂場玩的情形。我那患有嚴重自閉癥的弟弟喜歡玩滑梯,那天也在游樂場。老板對我說:“我擔心他會傷害我女兒。”我至今沒弄明白他干嘛要告訴我這些(當地人通常都很和善、體諒人),但沖著這句話,我當場就想揍他。
我猜法魯克·阿里一家現在也正經受著與我當年相似的憤怒和痛苦,或許更甚。據稱,前幾日,就在自家門外的街道上,他們患有自閉癥的兒子遭到了兩名警官毆打。當時,他趿拉著拖鞋,正在幫清潔工人收拾垃圾。做這件事可能讓他感到高興——許多自閉癥患者都喜歡分類整理物品。然而,這帶給他單純樂趣的工作卻被如此粗暴的方式打斷,而理由僅僅是因為他看起來很“可疑”。這經歷一定會給孩子的心靈留下深深的創傷。
殘障人士和他們的親屬可以敏銳地覺察到大眾的恐懼和無知。但想想看,這種恐懼、無知有時會轉化為暴力,潛在的威脅實在令人驚駭。對安德魯·楊的母親而言,這種噩夢變成了現實。安德魯患有阿斯伯格綜合癥,因為指出別人“在人行道騎單車很危險”,被一拳斃命。一些阿斯伯格綜合癥患者篤信遵循規則的重要性,但要求其他人去遵守規則并不意味著他們就是殺人者口中的“危險分子”。兇手被判處了四年半刑期——一條可憐的生命換來一場可悲的刑罰。
顯然,在“神經正常”的人眼中,自閉者的舉止方式怪異。……