An Autistic gymnast’s thoughts on Netflix’ “Athlete A”
TW: Mentions of sexual abuse. ableism, child abuse
I recently watched the Netflix documentary “Athlete A” detailing the sexual and emotional abuse of suffered by hundreds of young gymnasts at the hands of USA Gymnastics’ doctor, Larry Nassar. As a former gymnast and late-Autistic diagnosed Autistic adult, this documentary disturbed me, but did not at all surprise me. Despite the triggering subject matter, “Athlete A” is a much-watch, especially for parents of young women and Autistics, as it vividly highlights how reputable institutions, therapies and organizations designed to help children and develop excellence, like USA Gymnastics, can systematically condition vulnerable youth to be chronically obedient, and to value perfectionism over personal and emotional wellness. Ultimately, this organized coercion (systemic grooming) makes us unable to distinguish the difference between the healthy pain that makes us strong as individuals, and the lasting traumatic pain of abuse.
The strict-discipline approach for coaching that many gymnastics clubs around the world is utilize to churn out elite-level, world-champion athletes has proven effective over the last few decades by the success of shockingly young female medalists in Russia, Romania and now America and China. This authoritative teaching style is similar to the approach historically used in Applied Behavioural Analysis (ABA) Therapy to teach Autistic children life skills as well as engrain in them the difference between “good” behaviours and “bad” ones. ABA continues to be the popular “treatment” for Autism today, just as gymnastics continues to be one of the most popular sports for young women.
The “Athlete A” film poses the provocative question to viewers: Is any technique that sacrifices the emotional/physical wellbeing of a child for one desired, popular standard worth it? Of course we’d all likely and immediately answer “No!”. Yet, why are so many perspectives of gymnasts and their families being silenced? The severely traumatic practices are not only being allowed to continue, but organizations like USA Gymnastics and Autistm Speaks (which promotes ABA Therapy) have actively been shutting down and punishing those that dare to speak out against these abusive practices used for decades to win medals and please society as a whole.
Both female gymnasts and Autistics have something in common, which I know first-hand having gone from being a female gymnast to an openly-Autistic adult: We are time and time against openly punished for not conforming to what’s presented as THE standard for excellence, and we are groomed so well that over time will start to punish ourselves into submission; that’s what happens after years of being scolded for putting one step, or stim, out of line in public institutions and supposedly safe spaces, by those we have come to trust. In gymnastics, not pointing your toes in a complicated beam routine can mean the difference between first and second place; the effort involved to get you there in first place is rarely acknowledged, let alone praised. So we push ourselves harder without realized that the bar we’ve been told to strive far is actually completely out-of-reach, and we’ve been risking our health and childhoods to keep aiming for it.
I was told at five-years-old that my petite body was “ideal” for gymnastics. I didn’t understand what that even meant only that I was treated differently, more favourably, than my slightly taller peers. As a girl who was made-fun of regularly for always being the tiniest in my classes (“Brigitte the midget” I was often called which is why I go by Bibi now). I began to be unusually fixated on my body and always looked forward to gymnastics where my coaches would openly call me “perfect”. Yet as I grew (which all children do!) I feared I would grow too much and not be praised, which concerned my feminist, progressive mother.
Luckily I was immediately moved to circus school, where we were told that while proper technique is important to prevent injury, ultimately the weirder and wilder we are as individuals, the better performers will be. “No audiences comes to see perfection- that is just boring!” became my new mantra and delayed my eating disorder for another 5 years until university, where I joined the Varsity gymnastics team and all the years of trying to be different evaporated as I stood on the scale to my coach shaking her head. I soon had to drop out due to lack of energy as I dropped to my lowest weight ever. No coach asked if I was okay- just if I could keep the weight it off.
Hearing the account from Autistics who have suffered years of emotional abuse through years of ABA Therapy and how their social conditioning at young age ultimately led them be susceptible for emotional and sexual abuse mirrors my experiences in elite gymnastics. Although I only stayed in gymnastics for a few years before I transitioned to circus school, I was so young that it left a lasting impact on my psyche: it taught me that any silent discomforts are worth it if I am pleasing others and achieving the standard.
I, like many other Autistics, have endured both sexual abuse and horrible working conditions simply because I didn't know the pain I was experiencing was wrong and NOT my fault. While I learned at my school to say "No to abuse!", I had never received the training in my early life to ACTUALLY recognize what abuse was and that it everywhere and that I was ACTUALLY experiencing it!
While I have fully recovered from anorexia, I will never fully recover from the systemic conditioning to value the praise of others over my own wellbeing. Even though I am an outspoken and unconventionally succfessful openly queer and Autistic woman, there is never a moment that goes by where I don't instinctually doubt my own self and judgement before each action- including this post. I still don't fully know the difference between "healthy pain" and systemic abuse- which will forever be my trauma.
Many parents ask me HOW they can ensure their Autistic children have a “full and normal” life. My only real advice is, if you can in-still in them a belief that they as themselves matter and that they are just right as they are, that they will be loved no matter what they look like, sound like, or how much or little they speak, and they believe THAT in themselves, then you have done a great job as parent.
When I think of the children I work with an autistic child, my only desire for her is that she KNOW how freaking AMAZING she is at each moment. Like me she is tiny, she is a natural gymnast, but she doesn’t go to the gym- she works on her own at her own pace. We are ALL different- and to me DIVERSITY AND TRUTH SHOULD be perfection we ALL learn and celebrate.
