The Impacts of Ableism & Racial Trauma on Autistic People of Color
An autistic therapist of color explains the challenges of under-diagnosis in BIPOC communities — and the impact of systemic oppression on nervous system regulation.
What is autism? How do I know if I’m autistic?
Autism is a neurodevelopmental profile, or neurotype. Simply put, it’s a type of brain and nervous system, which comes with specific processing styles and sensory needs.
Autistic brains experience less neural pruning compared to neurotypical brains. They may be hyper-connected in some areas and hypo-connected in others.*
Due to the differences in neural wiring between autistic and non-autistic people, many autistic people relate to this sentiment by Annie Kotowicz, author of What I Mean When I Say I’m Autistic: “I miss what others catch, and I catch what others miss.”
Autism presents differently in each person, and intersects with identity factors like race, ethnicity, culture, gender, sexual orientation, age, and other neurotypes (e.g., ADHD, OCD, high sensitivity, giftedness, and more).
There is no one way to be autistic.
In general, autistic people experience traits like:
hypersensitivity to stimuli (i.e., reduced tolerance for loud noises, bright lights, etc.)
monotropic processing style (tendency to focus deeply on a few things at a time, making it seem like they’re “in their own world”)
preference for routines & familiarity (and difficulty adjusting to unexpected changes)
social behaviors & communication styles that differ from what’s considered “normal”
repetitive behaviors (i.e., stimming, echolalia)
deep special interests
→ To learn more, check out this blog post: “Autistic Person” vs “Person with Autism”: What’s the Difference? | A Neurodivergent Therapist’s POV
Is autism a disorder? Is it a disability? Is it a bad thing to be autistic?
In Western mental health spaces, autism is often referred to as “Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD)” – reflecting the pervasive (and outdated) belief that autism is an illness in need of a cure.
Within the neurodiversity-affirming community, however, autism is understood as a neurotype – a type of brain, nervous system, and way of being that is worthy of understanding, acceptance, and celebration, just like any other neurotype.
At the same time, autism is also considered a disability – a condition that comes with real challenges, including social stigma, sensory struggles, and lack of accommodations in a world designed for neurotypical brains.
In truth, if the world’s systems and infrastructures were more inclusive and accommodating, autistic people wouldn’t experience nearly as much struggle as they do today.
From a neurodiversity-affirming point of view, the problem is not that people are autistic; the problem is that our world is not friendly toward autistic people.
So, there is nuance here: While autism is not a disorder in need of fixing, it is a disability in need of support and accommodations; and it is a neurotype that comes with strength and challenges.
What is ableism?
Ableism refers to discrimination against people with disabilities.
Based on the harmful belief that disabled people are inherently less capable, valuable, or worthy of care than temporarily able-bodied people, ableism can show up in many ways:
demanding “normal” behavior in schools, workplaces, and public spaces
insisting that autistic individuals make eye contact, suppress stimming, or engage in social interactions in a neurotypical way, despite the fact that these masking behaviors lead to higher rates of depression and burnout
using “high-functioning” or “low-functioning” labels to describe people
perpetuates language used to justify eugenics during the Nazi regime*; dismisses the genuine struggles and needs of “high-functioning” folks; and pathologizes other folks for not being able to conform to arbitrary, capitalistic standards of productivity
employment discrimination
lack of accommodations in the workplace
dismissal of autistic job applicants due to employers’ misconceptions about their abilities
ABA Therapy (Applied Behavioral Analysis)
focuses on teaching autistic kids to mask, suppress autistic traits, and perform “normal” behavior for the convenience and comfort of those around them – and to the detriment of their own mental health
failure to provide autistic individuals with the resources or accommodations they need to succeed in education, employment, or daily life
i.e., noise-cancelling headphones; flexible work schedule; written instructions instead of verbal only; extra time to process complex information; emails instead of constant meetings and phone calls; clear expectations and meeting agendas, instead of “open-ended” conversations with no explicit purpose
microaggressions (subtle expressions of bias)
may be unintentional and seem like “no big deal” in the moment, but accumulate across time and contribute to high rates of depression, burnout, anxiety, and trauma in autistic individuals
i.e., glaring at an autistic person when they stim in public; telling an autistic person they are “overreacting” to sensory input; constantly speaking over an autistic individual, especially if they take longer to process information
What is racial trauma?
Racial trauma refers to the psychological harm caused by experiences of racism – including microaggressions, hate crimes, injustice, and systemic oppression.
Mirroring symptoms of PTSD and complex trauma, racial trauma impacts the BIPOC (Black, Indigenous, People of Color) community on an individual and intergenerational level.
What are the impacts of ableism & racial trauma on the BIPOC autistic community?
(1) Underdiagnosis & underpresentation
Historically, autism research and diagnoses have focused on white, male experiences. In the wider autistic community, white voices are featured most publicly and prominently. While this is changing and the neurodiversity-affirming movement is becoming more inclusive and intersectional, there is still much work to do.
The result? Autistic people of color are, unfortunately, still left out of important conversations.
Many BIPOC autistic individuals receive late diagnoses, misdiagnoses, or no diagnosis at all — at higher rates than white autistic individuals.*
They’re more likely to miss out on the support, services, and accommodations that could improve their quality of life. They may experience delays in developing a positive, affirming autistic identity.
An autistic person of color might even think, “I can’t possibly be autistic – there’s no one else who’s autistic and looks like me.”
A lack of diverse representation narrows our understanding of what autism can look like. When the white autistic experience is presented as the default, we miss out on nuances specific to other cultures or lived experiences. The resources available to autistic folks may work for certain communities, but lack cultural sensitivity toward others.
(2) Lack of community
Many autistic people of color struggle to find meaningful community, because there aren’t many BIPOC folks out there who are openly autistic. Without community, individuals experience higher rates of masking, burnout, and loneliness.
As an autistic person of color, it may feel as though you can only show up in certain spaces as one part of you, and in other spaces as another part of you.
For example, if your cultural community doesn’t understand autism, but your autistic community doesn’t understand your culture, you may only feel comfortable sharing certain aspects of your experience with each community – but never all of you.
And while that’s manageable for some folks, for others, it can be disjointing and exhausting to “shape-shift” and context-switch all the time.
You might wonder if there’s ever a place where you can be your whole self.
(3) Lack of support
When it comes to healthcare, there’s a significant lack of providers (e.g., doctors, therapists, coaches, and medical specialists) who genuinely incorporate an intersectional, anti-ableist, and anti-racist approach into their practice.
Depending on your location and available resources, it’s already a challenge to find autism-affirming providers.
It can be even harder to find someone who is both autism-affirming and attuned to your cultural experiences (or who share other identities and lived experiences that are important to you – like gender, sexual orientation, nationality, religion/spirituality, and more).
In other words: finding a good-fit match is like searching for a unicorn.
(4) Safety concerns
In today’s world, it’s not always safe to be neurodivergent and BIPOC – not to mention other marginalized identities like LGBTQ+, immigrant, disabled, religious minority, and more.
Autistic people of color may have to balance opposing needs: unmasking for mental health reasons, and masking for personal safety. And while this is true for all autistic people, it is especially true for folks who navigate the world facing both ableism and racism (as well as any other forms of systemic oppression, such as transphobia, homophobia, xenophobia, ageism, Islamophobia, anti-Semitism, and more).
Here are a few examples of safety concerns for BIPOC autistic individuals:
Escalated interactions in public spaces
In neurotypical spaces, an autistic person’s behavior can easily be misjudged as “rude” or “weird,” reflecting the Double Empathy Problem (a disconnect in understanding between autistic and non-autistic people). When these ableist judgments are then filtered through harmful racial stereotypes – which unfairly label certain individuals as “dangerous,” “inferior,” or “other” – the possibility of mistreatment increases significantly. What might otherwise have been “just a socially awkward experience” may escalate into a serious safety concern, potentially leading to verbal harassment, discrimination, or even physical harm toward BIPOC autistic folks.
Increased risk of harm in police encounters
The same misunderstanding can occur in interactions between autistic people and law enforcement – with even more serious consequences. It’s not hard to imagine how autistic behaviors – like stimming, difficulty making eye contact, delayed responses to commands, and “blunt” communication – may be misinterpreted by law enforcement as “suspicious,” and then combined with racial bias to label autistic people of color as “threatening” or “dangerous.” The use of unnecessary force by law enforcement against communities of color is widely documented and unfortunately common in the United States.
The proposed autism registry in the United States, as of 2025
In the United States, as of 2025, the Trump administration has proposed implementing a registry of autistic people, purportedly to understand the causes and potential treatments for autism (reflecting an ableist and pathology-based approach to neurodiversity). While, at the time of this writing, the current status of this proposed registry remains unclear, the potential dangers are clear. A registry represents a slippery slope toward eugenics, and mirrors historical instances in which registries of marginalized groups have been used to implement eugenicist programs.
How to regulate your nervous system in a world of ableism & racial trauma
The impacts of systemic oppression are significant and ongoing. It makes sense that many of us struggle with nervous system dysregulation — feelings of hypervigilance, fear, anxiety, depression, burnout, dissociation, and more. These are completely valid responses to conditions of injustice.
No amount of mindfulness skills, breathing techniques, or “self-care Sundays” will make it all go away. Individual solutions can only do so much when the problem exists on a systemic and global scale.
However, there are ways to care for our nervous systems as we navigate these systemic issues, and each act of self-care matters.
Here are a few ideas:
Tend to your sensory needs. Find (or create) spaces that actively support your comfort, whether through lighting, sound, textures, or scents.
Pursue your special interests – reading, writing, researching, running, dancing, collecting objects, collecting experiences, building, decorating, organizing. Whatever nourishes your nervous system, make it a priority. In a world heavy with hardship, one of the most radical things we can do is continue to reach for joy.
Seek out connections with likeminded people. Figure out what feels genuinely meaningful for you – whether it’s 1:1 deep conversations, group hang-outs, or structured activities (like hiking meet-ups in your area, a knitting club that meets every Thursday, a neurodivergent-friendly discussion group, or a collective focused on mutual aid and activism).
If you have limited capacity for human interactions, consider your relationships with animals and plants. What do you enjoy about these connections, and how can you make more time and space for them?
Work with a neurodiversity-affirming therapist or coach who can support you in processing painful experiences and regulating your nervous system. Modalities like Brainspotting, Internal Family Systems, and EMDR are particularly effective in healing the nervous system.
IN SUMMARY…
Autism is a neurotype and a disability, but it’s not a disorder.
There’s no one way to be autistic. Autism looks and presents in many different ways.
Autistic people of color are impacted by both ableism and racism, which brings nuanced challenges like: under-diagnosis, under-representation, lack of community, lack of good-fit support, and safety concerns.
The impacts of ableism, racism, and systemic oppression are significant and ongoing. It’s essential to take care of our nervous systems and cultivate joy in our lives – because you matter, your life matters, and your quality of life matters.
Are you an autistic person of color seeking a space where you can show up as your whole self?
Explore a Nervous System Healing Intensive (three 90-min sessions, using gentle yet powerful modalities like Brainspotting and Internal Family Systems) – with an autistic therapist of color. Helping you feel better, sooner.
Online Therapy in Colorado | Coaching Worldwide
Helping highly sensitive, neurodivergent adults heal their nervous systems & connect with their authentic selves.
About the Author
Liz Zhou is a neurodivergent therapist & coach. She helps highly sensitive, neurodivergent adults & couples heal their nervous systems and connect with their authentic selves, using brain-body modalities (Brainspotting, EMDR, IFS, psychedelic integration) that are quicker & more effective than traditional talk therapy. Liz offers Nervous System Healing Intensives online worldwide.
>> Click HERE to follow her on Instagram: @liz.holistic.therapist
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RESEARCH CITED IN BLOG POST
Neural connectivity in autistic brains
The link between “functioning” language and the eugenicist Nazi regime
Racial/ethnic disparities on the identification of autistic children
