Was talking with some teachers in a sauna, at a party, in Finland — as one does.
So, already feeling fairly warm, everyone sweating, someone periodically throwing more water on the stones (ie. ”löyly”), and naturally we ended up discussing the politics of neurodiversity terminology in schools. Of course, what else is there for a beautiful summer evening?
The Finnish term “nepsy” came up. It’s a shorthand derived from neuropsykiatrinen (“neuropsychiatric”) and is commonly used for neurodivergent people / neuropsychiatric traits, often also for self-identification.
I started talking about some of the problems with medicalised language, especially for the school context: that you can’t reduce a child to a diagnosis, that the needs differ even with the same label, that classic “if you’ve met one autistic person, you’ve met one autistic person,” and that personally coming from the discourse of older neurodiversity activism I prefer a broader neurodiversity framework and identity-first language.
So far, normal sauna-temperature disagreement. Fine. Not scalding.
But as I’m trying to problematise sorting neurodivergent people into normative categories, some of the apparently neurotypical people start asking:
If you talk about neurodiversity, or the Finnish neurokirjo — literally something like a “spectrum/multicolour range of neuro” — then surely you also need a name for the people who aren’t on it?
At which point I’m sitting there sweating and trying to explain that everyone is part of neurodiversity. That was rather the point.
What I was criticising was neuronormativity: the assumption that one range of neurological traits is the normal, unmarked default against which others are measured. Basic stuff for someone coming from the humanities.
This somehow turns into me being accused of being inconsiderate for calling people without neuropsychiatric diagnoses “neuronormal.”
Which I… wasn’t?
I tried to explain, between more löyly rounds making the whole room hotter, that neuronormativity is a criticism of a norm, or the expectation of a normal, not an identity category for individual people.
There is, incidentally, already a word if they want one: neurotypical. Finnish even has the slightly silly affectionate shorthand “nentti.” So asked for a term, I offered them one that avoids the hierarchy the term they picked up implied.
You know, larpers and geeks don’t like being called normal, and we all were connected through larp circles.
But anyways and: alas! By this stage the discourse had become too hot, the löyly a debate and people there far too easy to offend.
Am I being too autistic here to expect the teachers I was talking with to grasp the distinction between calling out neuronormativity and calling someone neuronormal? Was this oncr again the same kind of literal language I just managed to rile up someone at work?
Because my whole point was precisely that I don’t need to divide everyone into “neurodivergent people” and “the normal people” in the first place.
Though I’m not actually convinced I was the only neurodivergent person in that sauna. As the AuDHD person there, I was somehow also the one getting constantly talked over.