The Complexities of Symbolic Acronyms

Last updated on January 3, 2025

Friends and colleagues often include symbols and acronyms (and symbolic acronyms) within their social media profiles. These letterforms represent shared and self-selected identities.

None of them “feel” quite right to me. That’s not a new issue for me, as I have written many times about my ambivalence regarding labels and symbols. (Follow the post tags to search for those discussions.)

The puzzle piece has never appealed to me. I’d argue neurotypical people are puzzles. See? Puzzle pieces are not good symbols for people. The infinity symbol seems much better, though I don’t understand the connection to autism. I use the symbol because it’s familiar and appears to represent the infinite variation of human experiences. (We could argue human experience is not infinite, since there have been a fixed number of humans. That’s my literal nature arguing with my more literary mode.)

I understand the use of “Au” to self-identify as “Autistic,” as “Au” is the symbol for gold, and autistic self-advocates have adopted the gold infinity symbol. The history of “Âû” seems more contested, though I found some sources attribute it to the community Âutistic Ûnion, also known as Autistics for Autistics. Since the information is online, verifying any origin story is difficult. (Visit https://www.facebook.com/AutisticUnion/)

So, Au is both an acronym for the Autistic Union and a reference to “gold” (valuable) instead of the medical blue often associated with autism. A colleague calls this shade the “pity blue” of ribbons and puzzle pieces used to beg for money.

Embracing Au seems reasonable to me. I’m certainly an Autistic who advocates with and for other Autistics and Neurodiverse individuals.

I still see problems with ASD, ADHD, and the trending AuDHD (or AuADHD). An Autistic colleague inquired on social media why I dislike the acronyms. The reason seemed obvious to me, but it wasn’t clear to others.

The final “d” in these acronyms stands for “Disorder,” and I am not a disorder.

Autism Spectrum Disorder. Attention Deficit /Hyperactivity Disorder. Slamming the phrases together gives us Autism Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder? Wow, I get to be a deficit and a disorder. No, thank you. Why are we, the Neurodiverse who promoted the idea of “diversity” over a deeply flawed and ableist medical model of autism, willing to use acronyms that embed assumptions of deficit and disorder in our identities?

Autism Spectrum Diversity? Meh. I would prefer returning to AS, but not as in the late and not-so-great Hans Asperger. Simply “Autism Spectrum.” I no longer cringe at, “I’m on The Spectrum,” though I don’t go out of my way to celebrate the phase. “I am Autistic” works. Let’s use Autistic without any additional words.

Likewise, ADD/ADHD needs to be something less insulting. My attention to sensory inputs is not a deficit; it’s a hyper-awareness of the world around me. You want someone with that extra sensitivity if you’re in a dangerous situation. My hyperactivity lets me focus intensely on problems and tasks. How is that a disorder? Again, in a lot of situations, wouldn’t you rather have someone driven to complete the task?

Attention and Hyperactivity Diversity (AHD)? That doesn’t quite flow well, but I’m okay with AuAHD, I suppose. The “d” could be “difference,” if you prefer.

Whatever we eventually adopt, it should not be an acronym masking the medical model that suggests we’re somehow less than others or outright out-of-order and broken. I am not broken.

I’m a Hyperactive Autistic. HA! (Or is that HAu?)