It’s World Autism Month, Reader.

And I could have told a lot of stories. Especially with the disgusting resurgence of the “You can cure your child of autism.” Or the “Do these 5 things to prevent having a child with autism” bullshit.

Like we Neurodivergents are a disease that needs to be eradicated.

Because there’s nothing I love more than being told my entire being is the result of my mom taking the wrong pain meds when she was pregnant with me.

Or even more idiotic—eating the wrong food.

Really, these people are dangerous morons and I could give a TEDTalk length rant about it, but instead, let’s go with this more inspiring story.

When I was a really young child I was ambidextrous. I mean it makes sense coming from a family with a mom who’s right-handed and a dad who’s left-handed.

And right up until I was nearly 9 the school let me use both. But then they realized I couldn’t read or write and BIG NOPE—gotta pick one.

So what did I do?

I was in the 3rd grade so of course I looked at what the other 30 kids were doing and went, Oh I’m supposed to use this hand?

But that still wasn’t enough, because I also didn’t hold my pencil the right way apparently.

Now, Reader, maybe you’ve had the unfortunacy of being afflicted with a pencil grip corrector. If you haven’t, just know that they’re torturous, didn’t work, and gave me bone bruises and blisters.

Not only learning to write but being forced to write in the exact way as others is a perfect example of what it is to exist in this world as an autistic person.

It’s like if Sisyphus were given his boulder-up-the-hill task but also lectured on the exact placement of his feet and hands every moment he was doing it.

But somehow I accomplished both. And I’m not alone.

Fast forward to college where I wrote so fast (my own way, because 🤬 those pencil grips) I had to invest in pens and pencils that wouldn’t catch on the paper or it would get ripped. But…I still had the penmanship of a 12-year-old boy.

Worse maybe, since my male coder friend legit thought I was writing in a secret code in my notebook like DaVinci.

And all that pain I had suffered in elementary didn’t matter because…

Everything had to be TYPED anyways!

I was in my Digital Illustration class and our professor had just finished a lecture about health (yes we had that because in art YOU are your biggest asset!) Mainly it had to do with protecting yourself from carpal tunnel, eye strain, and posture-related injuries.

When he got to my workstation in the computer lab he stopped dead.

“Is this how you normally hold your stylus?”

Uh-oh, is this going to be another fight about using tools the “proper” way?

“Yes, this is how I hold everything.”

“Everything?”

“Pens, pencils, brushes. The stylus—everything.”

He stares at me a moment longer.

“And how do you type?”

I set down the stylus, put my hands before the keyboard, and lower my two pointer fingers.

He laughs. Not maliciously, just…

“You’re lucky. It’s physically impossible for you to get carpal tunnel.”

As he moved on to the next student I just sat there stunned. Because you see, I had always been told that the way I did things was wrong. Incorrect. In a way that needed to be fixed.

And here I had just learned that my way of doing things had just saved me from pain and potential career-ending disaster.

I was further vindicated when another professor praised The Illustrator’s Bible by Rob Howard and made it required reading for her class.

Vindicated because in every single shot of Rob’s hands throughout the book he is holding his tools exactly the same way as me.

Now maybe you’re not autistic, Reader, or neurodivergent, but I’m sure at some point in your life you’ve been told that you can’t do something the way you want to.

You can’t type with 2 fingers.

You can’t name all your characters A names.

You can’t have 2 boys kiss in your story.

Can’t hold your pencil the way that’s comfortable for you.

But remember normality is just an ever-changing made-up construct of the majority.

And not so long ago so many things were considered unnormal.

Left-handedness.

Working from home.

Steaming TV…and the ability to turn on and off the subtitles.

So whether you’re autistic or not, Reader, go out and do your thing. Let the world worry about catching up to YOU.

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Your cohort in storytelling,

Kat Vancil

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PS 👉 If you’re curious I’m still somewhat ambidextrous. I write with my right hand yes, but I do many things with both hands…or feet. I do anything strength based with my left hand and anything finesse-based with my right. Which means I cut food with my right and eat it with my left.

But I’m left-foot dominant in everything from track and field to winter sports and skateboarding, and for all the various turns and spins we do in dance.

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PSS 👉 I’ve started a Youtube channel which you can check out here. Right now it’s just a few shorts but there will be more awesome content in the future.

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The Saga Quest

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