2nd April. Today isn’t just a date on the calendar. It’s a spotlight. And like any spotlight, it reveals… and it erases.
So we keep asking: Whose voices are still just outside the beam?
The Autistic people who don’t speak, who don't use mouth words, or don’t speak in ways the world has decided “count.” The ones whose communication is AAC, echolalia, silence, movement, rhythm. The ones who are talked about, planned for, assessed, researched… but not listened to.
The Autistic people who are multiply marginalised. Black, Indigenous, people of colour. Queer, trans, gender-diverse. Disabled in more than one way. Living in poverty. In institutions. In systems that call it “support” while tightening the walls and blood coloured tape.
The ones who don’t fit the “palatable” narrative. Who aren’t inspirational. Who aren’t “high-functioning.” Who aren’t convenient. Who don't fit your picture of who we should be or how we should exist.
The ones who are tired. Angry. Burnt out. Who don’t have the energy to educate, advocate, explain, justify their existence.
The children who are still being shaped, corrected, reduced. The adults who were never given language for themselves. The elders we rarely hear from at all.
And we often find ourselves thinking about how often April becomes a performance. A curated gallery of awareness. Neatly packaged stories that feel safe enough to share.
But Autism isn’t neat. It’s not a campaign. It’s not a puzzle to solve or a brand to wear once a year.
For us, today isn’t about awareness. It’s about accountability. It's about our future.
It’s about asking: Who is centred? Who is funded? Who is heard? Who is still being spoken over?
It’s about shifting the mic. And then… actually letting go of it.
April, to us, is a tension.
A space where celebration and grief sit side by side. Where pride exists alongside the ongoing fight for basic rights, safety, autonomy, and dignity.
It’s joy, yes. So much joy. And pride. But it’s also resistance.
It’s choosing connection over correction. Autonomy over compliance. Listening over labelling.
It’s refusing to be reduced to a narrative that was never ours to begin with.
And it’s a reminder that this doesn’t start and end today.
Because Autistic people don’t disappear on April 3rd or May 1st.
So the question lingers, louder than any campaign: Whose voices are we still not ready to hear?
And what would it take… to change that?
