For so many years, I carried around this feeling of inadequacy without really knowing why.
When I found out about my autism diagnosis as an adult, it was the most validating information that I could have ever heard.
I was finally able to let go of the weight I’d been carrying and the pressure I’d been putting on myself my whole life. What I used to think of as inadequacies were actually just different ways of experiencing the world.
My name is Sarah Russell. Since 2015, I’ve been working with Canucks Autism Network (CAN) as a Support Worker, Coach, Onsite Supervisor, and Learning Facilitator. And in 2021, I learned of my diagnosis and joined as a Participant.
I began supporting CAN participants before knowing I was on the spectrum. Even then, I always knew that I could be myself at CAN programs.
My involvement with CAN first started when I was working through a partnered program in Victoria called PISE. PISE was looking to accommodate beyond physical disabilities and CAN was looking to expand on the Island.
I kind of fell into the role of CAN Coach, and once I started, I was hooked. I just loved helping participants develop their sports skills so they could ultimately access community programs or school programs or just keep up with their neurotypical peers on the playground.
Since starting at CAN, I’ve held various roles and find them all equally rewarding in their own way.
As a CAN Support Worker, it’s so fun to get to run around with the kids and get big silly reactions out of them, while also being the person who can help them integrate into new situations. I know how hard that can be because I struggled with it my whole life.
For so long, I felt like I had to hide my feelings and authentic experience just to fit in. Autistic people call this masking. When masking, you’re trying to present yourself in a typical way while suppressing your real feelings and experience. It’s upsetting, overwhelming, and uncomfortable.
For so many years, I was supporting CAN participants without knowing that I, myself, was on the autism spectrum. One of the most liberating things about becoming a CAN participant was knowing that I could leave my mask at the door.
I knew from my experience as CAN Staff that I’d be in a safe space where I could just be my authentic Autistic self.
Even when I’m having a hard day, I know I’m going to be supported. I know I’m going to feel heard. And I know I am going to be welcomed as I am.
Being Autistic, you’re already in a marginalized group. Those who identify as female are marginalized even further. So for me, having an opportunity at CAN like the Women’s Peer Support Group is so important because it creates a safe space for us to feel heard and included. We get to come together monthly to share our similar experiences while supporting and validating each other.
When you’re a person on the spectrum who has low support needs, it actually limits the number of resources that you’re able to access in the community.
CAN is really the only organization that I’m able to access.
If it weren’t for CAN, I wouldn’t be able to go the gym or be a part of social activities like bowling or rock climbing because the facilities are too loud and overstimulating. The experience itself wouldn’t even be enjoyable because I’d be forced to push so hard just to be in that space.
Because of CAN, I’m able to access community activities, be physically active, be social with my friends, and even make new friends.
When I think about it,my favourite thing about CAN is that it’s essentially home.
The people who work at CAN are like an extension of my family. Whether I go to a CAN program or event as a staff or a participant, I feel like I can let go of everything and just be myself.
It’s really the most comfortable and welcoming place that you could ever be.
This speech was delivered by CAN dad Gary Bryant at the 2022 CAN Pro-Am Luncheon, sponsored by ICONIX Waterworks.
Our family’s story is about a young boy with a passion and a dream. It’s about how Canucks Autism Network (CAN) paved the path that allowed our son Mitchell to break many barriers with the seemingly endless support of the most amazing and dedicated staff and volunteers I have ever seen.
Hockey has touched every single corner of our lives as far back as 1999. I played. Both of Mitchell’s older brothers played. And I coached their teams for 12 years. So naturally, from the moment Mitchell could walk and he was able to hold anything that resembled a hockey stick, Mitchell was “playing hockey”. Mitchell showed an unusually strong passion for the game. As you can imagine, we were all very excited to get Mitchell involved in this wonderful game as soon as he was ready.
Mitch with former CAN Ambassador and Canucks defenceman Dan Hamhuis in 2014.
Mitchell was introduced to the sport at the age of 5 with minor ball hockey. This was Mitchell’s first real experience in a structured environment. He did not socialize with his peers. He would not participate in any of the drills or games. He would not respond to me or the other coaches.
No matter what any of us tried, Mitchell had his way of doing things. To use a “coach’s term”… we thought Mitchell was simply un-coachable. This was our first cue as parents that he was not like his peers although at the time. But we didn’t understand why.
Our relationship with CAN began when Mitchell was diagnosed at the age of 9. Our first official act as parents with a child on the spectrum was to register Mitchell for CAN Hockey. I’m not sure who was more excited — us or Mitchell. It became our Saturday morning ritual. We would all get up at 6am, pile into the van to make the trip from Chilliwack to Surrey.
From the moment Mitchell first hit the ice, he was in his glory. You couldn’t wipe the grin off of his face if you tried.
Mitch during a special scrimmage with the CAN hockey program at Rogers Arena in 2015
The Saturday morning skate with his team became the most important part of Mitchell’s week. He belonged to a team. He had a team jersey. He had a team jacket. He was now just like his friends at school. He was a hockey player.
The flexibility, structure, and supportive environment at CAN allowed each player to experience hockey in their own way. I cannot put into words what it was like to see my son become a part of a team like this. Mitchell always dreamed of playing hockey. But in addition to making his dreams come true, CAN gave him a second home where he felt welcomed and accepted.
Mitchell’s passion for the game and desire to be the best hockey player was only fueled and further nurtured by the tireless efforts of the amazing CAN staff and volunteers.
Mitchell progressed significantly in the program. And by the end of his 3rd season, we could see his levels of frustration begin to build. Mitchell was starting to want more from the program than the program was intended to sustain.
As parents, we started to reluctantly face a bitter reality — that it might be best for Mitchell to “graduate” from CAN Hockey and allow another child to embark on the very same journey. But we were unsure if Mitchell had developed a strong enough skill set at CAN to transition to minor hockey with typical peers.
He was 14 at the time, so he was eligible for 2nd year Bantam. We were worried it might be too large a leap for a player on the spectrum. We were worried about how he would respond to the social environment, how he would manage in a game in a competitive environment.
The fall of 2018 might have been the end of Mitchell’s hockey journey had it not been for the support of those around us and the foundation he had built with CAN. Mitchell was also skating with an adaptive hockey program in Chilliwack. The organizer — and a good friend of ours — Ben Champaign kept pushing us and telling us he was ready.
So Ben arranged to have the Chilliwack Minor Hockey Director of Player Development Lee McCaw come out and assess Mitchell. The following week, we registered Mitchell and Lee insisted that Mitchell be placed on his team.
Mitchell’s first season was a complete success primarily due to the coaching staff who did an amazing job of ensuring that Mitchell was well supported through his introduction to competitive hockey. They worked tirelessly to ensure that he was a part of the team and they embraced the spirit of inclusion, proving that hockey was for everyone.
This year marks the start of Mitchell’s 4th season. He is now competing at a level equal to his peers as a 3rd year Midget player.
Mitch (right) as a member of the Chilliwack Minor Hockey Association in 2022
Barriers are made to be broken. Watching Mitchell as he has made his journey has been a very special experience for me. But we could have never done this alone. They say that it takes a village to raise a child and Mitchell’s story is a testimony to this. Mitchell’s success would not have been possible without the incredible efforts and the amazing support of so many wonderful people.
Canucks Autism Network started it all for Mitchell. CAN started this journey for so many players, including those on Mitchell’s first team. CAN helped 20 kids who were desperate to belong, find a second home wearing the same jersey.
I hope that by sharing Mitchell’s story, you know that CAN has a very powerful impact. That supporters of the cause make a huge difference. To kids like Mitchell, CAN gives them a chance to dream. Canucks Autism Network allowed Mitchell to believe that he CAN be a hockey player.
Supporters of CAN are helping to write the next story… to fulfill the next dream and help ensure more barriers are broken. Isn’t that a beautiful thing?
After Mitch’s dad delivered his speech at the CAN Pro-Am Luncheon, Mitch was given the opportunity to skate alongside NHL Alumni in the CAN Pro-Am All-Star Game two days later.
In honour of Autism Acceptance Month this year, I participated in a CAN video that highlighted the important distinction between being aware of autistic people and being accepting of them. I think it’s very crucial to be accepting and inclusive to individuals of all different abilities because everyone deserves mutual respect and kindness.
When I first found out I had autism at age seven, I didn’t understand what that meant, let alone how receiving an autism diagnosis would impact my life moving forward. On the outside I didn’t look autistic, but within, I felt very different from my peers. I was very quiet and kept to myself most of the time. I didn’t enjoy hanging out with other children my age. Reading body language and facial expressions was challenging for me, and this is something I still struggle with as an adult.
I have always had a tough time accepting myself. However, in the last few years, I have realized I should not pay that much attention to how others perceive me. I am still learning to embrace my autism and think of my diagnosis as a blessing rather than something I should be ashamed of.
I have always been very open and honest about my diagnosis because it is a part of who I am. I don’t want to have to hide this part of myself in order for others to accept me.
It’s not something I feel anyone should have to do. That is why I wanted to be a part of this video that challenges the wider community to be more accepting and supportive of people on the spectrum.
Through sharing my story, I hope that more people on the spectrum will be inspired to speak their truth and support the movement from awareness to acceptance. By incorporating autism acceptance into my life, I have felt more comfortable interacting with neurotypical individuals. I don’t feel as much of a need to hide my autism. I am also starting to get to a place where I can openly speak about my struggles with my friends and family.
As a writer who has written two books on autism spectrum disorder, I feel as though I am better able to express myself through written output. Sometimes when I am speaking to other people, the words get jumbled up in my head and I have trouble forming sentences even though I know what I would like to say. I believe that we all have a story to tell and that our voice should be heard and not silenced. I am constantly learning how to be comfortable with sharing my stories with other people. I feel as though writing brings out the best and helps me and helps me hone my creative skills. I am able to speak honestly about how I feel, and this is something, which I have trouble doing verbally.
It’s taken me years to accept my autism diagnosis and I think it’s because I didn’t really understand myself when I was younger. I wasn’t sure why I would get angry with other people if they didn’t want to be my friend, and these negative thoughts would often lead to depression. I tried to switch to a more positive way of thinking and tell myself that it wasn’t my fault if other people didn’t want to hang out with me or get to know me. But, still the hurt and animosity would catch up to me.
I didn’t know how to handle these emotions and I didn’t understand why I was feeling this way. It’s taken me 26 years to learn to accept myself and come to terms with my autism diagnosis. However, sometimes I have bad days where I feel as though nothing is going right, and those around me don’t understand how I am feeling. My life is not perfect and I don’t think it’s ever going to be and this is something I have learned to accept.
Practicing autism acceptance has become a huge part of my daily routine. I encourage other individuals on the spectrum to practice autism acceptance as well. But more importantly, I encourage the community at large to choose acceptance.
Through writing and telling my story, I hope that I can inspire other autistic individuals to become more comfortable with their diagnosis. I believe that everyone is unique and special in their own way, and this is something I wish I would have come to realize earlier in life. Autism doesn’t define who I am as an individual, but it’s a small part of who I am. And a part that I am proud of.
My whole life, things have just been a little bit harder for me.
Harder to make friends. Harder at school. Harder to feel good about myself. But CAN has been by my side almost my entire life. Every step of the way, they’ve helped me realize just how much I can do.
My name is Nate Keller and I am a 19-year-old on the autism spectrum.
One of my earliest memories with CAN was when I was just six years old. My mom signed me up for their soccer camp at Eric Hamber. I was super nervous because I didn’t know anyone. I only knew me. I felt so scared I could barely look up. My hands felt like they were glued inside the pockets of my favourite black Adidas pants.
But something about the people there made me feel better. I remember feeling comforted by the staff. It felt like they already knew me somehow. They had a special way of making me feel safe. They made me feel like I belonged.
My mom says that I used to start every day by asking if it was a CAN day because then I would know that it would be a good day.
When I was little, CAN programs like soccer and basketball helped me learn to play sports like the other kids my age. Then when I became a teenager, I found myself caring more about social stuff, like making friends.
When the CAN Hockey program started, I knew I wanted to join. I made some of my best friends on the team.
We got to go to tournaments and stay in hotels, like other kids who played hockey. I loved being with the guys and talking to them on the bus and blasting trap music in the locker room. We had so much in common and we just understood each other, because they were like me and I was like them. Even the CAN staff made it easy for me to talk to them. They were always a good place to go when I needed support.
At school, I don’t always understand the jokes and things that other kids talk about. I had friends at school but it was hard to talk to them sometimes and I didn’t always feel included. I used to be really nervous talking about my autism because I couldn’t tell if people were curious or just making fun of me. CAN made me realize that my autism was not something bad, but something special and unique about me. CAN made me feel good about myself and who I am. I didn’t know I could feel like that.
After so many years with CAN, I decided that I wanted to help younger kids like me by sharing my own experience with autism. I joined CAN’s Youth and Adult Leadership group and it taught me how to be confident. It taught me that my voice matters.
I then started volunteering for CAN so I could thank them for everything they did for me. Now I have this dream of working for CAN because I love the people there.
They understand me and how I think. They give us a safe place and make us feel good about ourselves. I want to do that for other kids. I want them to know that people will love you because of your autism.
I want them to know that having autism is special. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.
I was recently asked what life would be like without CAN. The answer is easy. Life without CAN would be very hard.
Everything I have done at CAN has really helped me over the years. CAN allowed me to gain confidence and build a community of people I could talk to. CAN helped me become more happy with myself. I don’t think I could have made friends or joined the swim club or track team at school if I didn’t have CAN. But mostly, I don’t think I would have a good outlook on the world if it weren’t for CAN.
I guess I don’t know for sure where my life would be without CAN. Thank you to all the staff, volunteers, and donors that make CAN programs possible.
Nate Keller CAN Participant, Volunteer, and Future Staff
I’m picking my son up, all I said is hi (I didn’t even have to ask how he is!) and he’s responding to me with the biggest smile on his face saying, “Mom, I’m really happy today.” I couldn’t believe it.
This moment was really meaningful to me because after all these years, Eric never said anything about his feelings. Never. I even forgot to respond because I was so shocked!
My name is Wei and I am the proud mom of Eric, my 19-year old son who has autism. Canucks Autism Network (CAN) programs have been our safe space for the past 10 years. We first registered Eric for a CAN program when he was 9 and a half, and I would like to share our journey with you.
As a mom of an Autistic child, I live every day with anxiety and it’s very draining – constantly feeling like you have to defend your child, yourself, and your family. When these negative feelings build up, it’s very hard to focus on anything else.
But every time I send Eric to a CAN program, I feel relaxed, at peace, and I trust that he is in a safe space. I get a break from always being on high-awareness. From music to sports to job-readiness programs, I know that Eric is always surrounded by positive support when he is with CAN and he always comes home happier.
This is a photo of the first time Eric ever asked me to take a picture with him. He’s usually very resistant to taking photos but he was so proud of himself for graduating from CAN’s Employment Program that he wanted to share it with me.
This special moment will always remind me of a change in Eric that I never thought I would see. I will remember this for the rest of my life.
Every giftwill help cover the true cost of ~$500/participant in a multi-week youth and young adult program.
Your generosity will help build a bright and happy future for someone like Eric.
Many of the skills that Eric has learned through CAN programs, he has been able to apply in real life. He is now curious about what’s going on, he takes more responsibility and he even does chores like putting things away, setting up the table, and helping to carry things. He is more happy, calm, and soft. He’ll say sorry to me, he’ll ask me if I’m okay, and I can just tell he is more caring. I finally feel loved by my only child and we have become so much closer.
Having CAN as a safe space has helped us to grow confident when we go out in the community too because I can generalize these feelings of trust, safety, and happiness to different areas of my life. When I feel emotionally safe, that’s when I’m able to open up mentally to more positive experiences. It’s been very inspiring to watch Eric live life with so much more joy and laughter, and I really believe that he has a bright future ahead of him.
I believe we are stronger together.
With your support, you will help more families like mine access this safe space too. This will make a meaningful difference, and I thank you so much in advance for your consideration.
We launched registration in April and saw over 110 individuals accept the challenge. Each fundraiser was tasked with completing and posting up to six daily challenges, while asking friends and family to donate.
From May 31 to June 4, they posted themselves playing hockey, stacking LEGO, flying paper airplanes – and yes, attempting something referred to only as “cookie face”.
Thanks to their creativity, commitment and passion for the cause, our fundraisers exceeded our goal, bringing in over $102,000!
Within that virtual community of supporters was Evan Bissoondatt.
At 16 years old, Evan joined the challenge with an important and compelling reason to support the cause.
It was only two years ago that Evan was diagnosed with autism. In the short time since, he’s been inspired by the community he’s found at Canucks Autism Network (CAN).
His goal is to one day work in our programs so that he can return the support he’s received. But until then, he was motivated to give back another way.
Signing up for the CAN Virtual Challenge, Evan raised a remarkable $4,105.
That total earned him the honour of being named our Top Individual Fundraiser! Needless to say, Evan is a remarkable young man who we want the entire CAN community to meet.
We asked both Evan and his mom, Bernadette, a few questions about the community he’s found at CAN and his incredibly successful campaign.
We can’t thank you enough for such an amazing contribution, Evan! Can you tell us first how you first became part of the CAN community?
EVAN: I found out about CAN with the help of my mom. She researched programs where I can meet people who are on the spectrum like me and fit my personality. She is really good at finding programs I am interested in and helps me sign up for them on time.
BERNADETTE: Since Evan was diagnosed in 2019, we are still fairly new to the autism community. But we are blessed to have found CAN! The diversity of programs has truly helped us find a good fit for Evan in terms of his age group and interests.
Our staff and volunteers love seeing you at each program! What are some of your favourites?
EVAN: I really enjoy CAN’s in-person programs, like Explore Volunteering and Park Clean Ups, mainly because of the socializing that takes place. I get to socialize and help the community at the same time.
I also enjoy the Virtual Movie Clubs – how we get to talk about the movies afterwards – and Virtual Fitness. Through these programs, I’ve been able to connect with participants and even make friendships.
BERNADETTE: One of the many remarkable examples of how helpful and amazing the programs are – Evan participated in Explore Employment, where he was given templates for creating a resume.
He used this to build his own resume and recently got accepted for his first part-time job this summer! I love how CAN programs like these help prepare teens for transitioning into adulthood, making them more familiar with what’s to come and ultimately less anxious.
Evan, you’ve clearly got a ton of initiative. But we can’t believe this was your first time doing any kind of fundraising! How did you do so well?
EVAN:I raised the money with the help of my parents and the generosity of family, friends and people who support me at school. I don’t have access to social media so my parents and I emailed my fundraising campaign to people we know.
What were your favourite challenges?
EVAN: My favorite challenges were building and creating, because I got to speed-build Lego. I also enjoyed playing badminton on Day 1 and running on the treadmill for the “Move” challenge.
Looks like you had a great time, Evan! Finally, what motivated you to put in all this work fundraising?
EVAN:Growing up, I thought I was just a normal person like the rest, but I do have social challenges at school. I struggle with friendships and recognizing social cues. Oftentimes, I don’t know who to classify as a true friend.
When I was diagnosed with autism in Grade 8, I honestly was confused and didn’t know how to feel. I thought, “Is autism good or bad?”
I questioned myself about many things and what it meant to be autistic. I have later learned that this is something I am born with. I could have unusual traits that make me act or behave differently, but I am still just like any human being, my brain just functions differently than others.
Now that I think of it, God created me with a unique recipe and my own personality – but still a masterpiece He can be proud of!
What motivated me to fundraise is the fact that CAN gives people like me the support they need while feeling connected. The coaches are incredible. They are doing such an amazing job with helping people on the spectrum.
I am interested in being a support worker for CAN one day, so I can help too.
BERNADETTE: CAN programs have done wonders – not just for our son but our entire family. As a parent, it is challenging to navigate through the different programs out there.
We are so proud of Evan for his willingness to share his story and use his voice to fundraise for CAN! This was his first time fundraising and he was the top fundraiser!
We can’t wait to see where Evan’s leadership and his desire to give back take him. Fundraisers like the CAN Virtual Challenge are critical in continuing our work to give opportunity and promote autism acceptance.
But building acceptance, understanding and support isn’t possible without individuals like Evan sharing their story. In this instance, Evan’s voice has raised an incredible amount of money for the cause while demonstrating just how much our amazing participants are capable of.
Thank you, Evan! And thank you to each of our CAN Virtual Challenge fundraisers, sponsors and partners.
Kayla is a CAN support worker and incredibly active self-advocate in our community. She is one of the nine autistic voices featured in our Autism Acceptance Month video released earlier this month.
Kayla ends the video by stating, “Autism acceptance means every child and youth on the spectrum and every autistic adult has every opportunity to be who they want to be.”
As we end Autism Acceptance Month, we want to highlight Kayla’s story. What does she want our community to know about autism? How can we be part of the solution to ensure that her vision may come to fruition in our society?
by Kayla Polege
Growing up with undiagnosed autism was hard at times. We sort of knew when I was little, but the doctor who tested me told my mom that she was just being overprotective. I struggled through school with making and keeping friends.
Nobody would tell me when I did something that bothered them. I didn’t know how others were feeling because I couldn’t read their body language or any other nonverbal signs.
I wish they would have just told me directly how they felt. Mom always did her best to teach me what I might have done differently after each social situation. But it was always hard to understand what I might have done wrong without others being direct with me.
My younger brother has Down Syndrome, so we were led to a lot of family support groups for parents of children with diverse needs. Luckily, this gave my mom people to talk to who could help her figure out how to help me – even without a diagnosis.
My brother even had a speech therapist who recognized my struggles. Amazingly, she gave me communication therapy even though we couldn’t afford it. She also gave me my favorite stim toy that I still use to this day.
I was starting college when I finally got my autism diagnosis.
It led me to do more research, better understand what was going on in my brain, and explain it to others. At the same time, I also met some pretty amazing people who gave me what I needed and communicated their needs directly and verbally.
They would tell me things like “I like your hugs Kayla, but sometimes I don’t feel like being touched, can you ask first?” Or they would let me know when I said things that could be misinterpreted just by the order I put the words in.
They knew I never meant to hurt anyone or make anyone uncomfortable. I just honestly didn’t know until someone verbalized it.
I also got criticized and bullied a lot for stimming (ex. jumping up and down and flapping my arms when I got excited) growing up. And at some point, my brain created this auto-switch so that when I started to stim in front of others I would stop. Then I’d get so uncomfortable, I’d feel like tearing off my skin. But I didn’t know why.
One day, early on in college, this happened in front of one of my classmates. She turned to me and said “Why did you stop?” I asked her what she meant, because at the time I didn’t even realize that this was happening.
She said “That hoppy thing you were doing. It was adorable and it made me so happy. Why did you stop?” I thought about it and I honestly I didn’t know.
I didn’t even realize that masking my stimming had become an auto defense mechanism.
Luckily, I had chosen to go to acting school. A big part of learning to act is exploring different sides of yourself so that you can use them to become someone else. Another part was learning how to step out of character after you’ve created them. That’s something that not every teacher thinks to teach, but thankfully mine did.
Just like some actors can get stuck in character, some autistics can get stuck behind the mask of trying to appear typical. The internal struggles they are going through are hidden until they just shut down. And then everyone is confused.
Once I learned how to step out of character, I also learned how to consciously unmask and show my true self when I knew it was safe to do so. And something amazing happened.
I stopped shutting down as often, I didn’t constantly feel like my skin was too tight or my brain was going to explode. Between that and some fantastic classmates, who taught me that someone other than my family could accept me just the way I am, I was able to let myself stim in front of people again.
Stimming also helped me better focus on conversations and connect with people, because it was one less thing my brain had to constantly concentrate on.
I’ve been so fortunate to have people help me accept myself. Similarly, I have always enjoyed helping others with diverse needs, as well.
Over the years, I’ve done a lot of volunteering for Challenger Baseball, Peewee Special Olympics, and different charities that help diverse individuals.
By 2018, I had been out of college for a while and Canucks Autism Network was hosting a 10th anniversary party at Surrey Civic Plaza. My cousin happens to work for CAN and asked me if I wanted to volunteer.
Kayla volunteering at the CAN Family Festival in Surrey.
I agreed right away. There is nothing I loved more than being around people who “got it” and wanted to help out kids who are like me and my brother. So I went with my cousin and CAN set us up to make sure I had everything I needed, including my sensory needs.
Everyone was super nice and great to work with. Near the end of the day, my cousin said, “You know, we have inclusive hiring, you should apply.”
So I applied. And since then, working for CAN has been amazing. One of my favorite pieces of feedback I ever received was, “We love putting you with anxious kids because they are always less anxious with you.”
Even though those kids don’t know that I’m like them – and that I’m coming from a place of experience – I think that on some level, they know I can understand them in a way a lot of the other workers can’t.
Outside of CAN, I also volunteer with Voices of Autism (VOA), a self-advocate advisory group for Pacific Autism Family Network (PAFN). Most recently, we started working on a peer mentorship project.
I was inspired to suggest it after going through a mentorship program where more experienced actors were paired with younger actors trying to get into the business. I got so much out of it and I thought, “You know what? I wish I had this for navigating my differences due to autism.”
So I suggested it to my VOA manager and she took it and rolled with it. We just recently got started and other autistic people have been sending in questions to us. Individuals from the VOA board and membership who feel knowledgeable enough for each issue have been going on camera to film our answers. We’re hoping to have the videos be online with AIDE Canada soon.
For example, one question asked was about accessing post-secondary and finding a good institution that can support different ways of learning and different needs. I chose to answer that one and suggested that most schools will have an open house and that autistic students should go and talk to the teachers and see if they can envision being supported in that space.
I think it’s important that we progress from simply making people aware of autism to really increasing their understanding of autism.
Kayla in her role with the Voices of Autism self-advocacy group.
When people understand more about how another person’s brain works and what they are going through/what they have been through, they have a much easier time accepting that person. Whether that’s a person from a different community or culture, or a person whose brain just works a little differently, everyone is valuable.
This means changing the way that people are viewed and presented to the public. Often times, we look at individuals with differences from a “disability model.” This is where you’re constantly focusing on what people can’t do and attempting to change that about them.
Before I got my diagnosis, I went to an employment support centre, and got some testing to figure out what I would need out of a job, and where I would be be the most successful. But at the end, when I was talking with the lady that I was assigned to, she basically said, here’s a giant list of things that you can’t do. Now let’s find an employer who’s okay with this. It was discouraging. If she had approached me and said, we need to work around some things, but here are all the things you can do let’s find a job that suits that, I would have felt much more encouraged.
What we need in order for people to truly accept individuals on the spectrum and with other differences is a “capabilities model”. This means looking at what society can do to make things easier for those with differences. It means identifying what people are capable of and using that as a starting point for how we make change.
At CAN, every time I run into a barrier as a support worker, it’s not, “okay you can’t do this job then.” It’s, “we know you can do this job, so let’s figure out how we can navigate around it so that you can do what you do.” One arena I was working at had electrical problems one day and the buzzer was constantly going off. I’m sensitive to high pitched noises and I ended up shutting down in the change room after handing my kid off to another worker.
And afterwards, Robbie called me and we talked about what happened and he said, “Okay, in the future – here’s our plan. If that should ever happen again, hopefully it won’t, you are allowed to leave the ice, get your headphones, and wear them on the ice so that doesn’t happen in the future.”
It’s a small concession, but it allowed me to feel like I could do my job. And was really nice and I felt super supported where in another environment, I may possibly have even gotten fired for reacting that way.
Kayla working on a digital art project with a CAN participant at summer day camp.
As an actor, representation in film is important to me. The industry is slowly getting there but having more diverse individuals trained to work in film would it change that much quicker. There just aren’t enough programs willing to train and work with the differences of autistic individuals and others with diversities.
You shouldn’t have to mask who you are to make your dreams come true.
We need to increase opportunities for autism training and understanding in the film industry. If autistic individuals who are aspiring to work in film (whether it’s acting or behind the camera) aren’t understood and can’t get training themselves, it severely limits the opportunities available to them.
Beyond the film industry, there is an ongoing need to increase accessibility in all community spaces. I have also done some work consulting on accessibility with the City of Surrey. Through their partnership with CAN, they’ve done a great job working with capabilities by starting to make all of their buildings accessible – not just for physical differences, but for sensory differences as well.
Similarly, I love that many stores have sensory-friendly times. These are super helpful, as well. One concrete suggestion I would have is to keep the lineup dots on the floor, even after the pandemic. Often times, people don’t realize that many autistic individuals can get uncomfortable when strangers get too close. When lines get crowded and pushy, it can be overwhelming and uncomfortable even if you aren’t autistic. The lineup dots give people the space they need. And if someone isn’t on their dot, it easily gives you the authority to ask them for space.
Whether you’re in line at the grocery store, an aspiring actor, or simply trying to find a way to be comfortable in your own skin, you shouldn’t have to mask who you are.
That’s why I’m so proud to share my story, work for CAN, and be a part of groups like Voices of Autism.
It is only together that every child or youth on the spectrum and every autistic adult can have every opportunity to be who they want to be.
You may recognize Kayla as one of the nine autistic voices featured in our #AutismAcceptance video with EY this April:
For every comment or share of the video until Apr 30, EY will donate $2 to CAN! See the post on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter or LinkedIN!
Learn more about the voices featured in the video:
I was diagnosed with Asperger’s Syndrome (now called Autism Spectrum Disorder) in my early 20’s in 2001. However, seeing as autism is a lifelong disability, I clearly grew up autistic; I just didn’t know it at the time. That’s not to say I didn’t receive any help or support as a kid. I was diagnosed with ADHD in Grade 2, so I was supported for that. Looking back, I think some of my challenges in life that required support were more due to my then-undiagnosed autism. In this blog post, I will share some of my life’s journey as an autistic with you.
First off, autism was not well known or understood when I was a boy.
In 1985, I was referred to BC Children’s Hospital, as my parents were trying to figure out what made me tick. You see, as a child I kept mostly to myself, and was content to play by myself for hours on end. I appeared to be hyperactive, rocking for hours on my spring horse. I also had gross motor skills deficits. My childhood doctors kept telling my mom that she was an “overpicky” mother, and my quirks would correct themselves in time. The doctors at Children’s Hospital diagnosed me with ADHD, and told my parents “I met all the signs of autism, except I could talk.” They missed the mark, and I would have to wait sixteen years before I learned I was autistic.
Now, before anyone goes criticizing Children’s Hospital, keep in mind this assessment took place thirty-six years ago, when knowledge of autism was far more limited, and the diagnostic criteria far more restrictive. Just like today. medical professionals can’t just make up their own diagnostic criteria, but are required to follow the criteria accepted as the standard by their profession at the time. I suspect my parents would be given very different answers if I was assessed today in 2021.
Despite not knowing I was autistic, there were supports even back then that helped me somewhat. I received therapy from the Child Development Centres in Quesnel and Fort St John. Therapists at both centres helped me improve my gross motor skills. I also received speech therapy at school in Fort St. John, and later Prince George (where I moved to in 1986 and still live today), and this helped improve my speech. We didn’t know then that it was autism that was causing my difficulties.
In school, I benefitted from extra time on assignments, and tests, including my high school final exams. This helped me succeed, and earn honour roll standing multiple times in both elementary and high school. English was my best subject, and math my worst. I never used any of that algebra they tried to teach me. With these supports, I graduated in 1996 with the rest of my peers, and went on to complete a BA in English and History at UNBC, graduating in 2003.
It was only after my Asperger’s diagnosis in 2001 that my parents and I fully understood my uniqueness.
I finally knew why in grade 2, I would run around the school playground, pretending to be He-Man, and why I played (and still play) with my pillow cases and shirts. This is only a few of the questions we finally had answers to. In case you’re not a child of the early 80’s, He-Man was a popular cartoon series and action figure from the early 80’s. I would pretend I was holding his magic sword and saying “By the Power of Grayskull,” which made him the most powerful man in the universe.
I paid my autism diagnosis little regard until November 2006 when I was expelled from teacher training, and had my life’s dream shattered. This was all because I made a rude comment that offended the classroom teacher who supervised me during my first practicum. Like many autistics, I often make unfiltered remarks. I’ve never sworn, but this trait has often landed me in trouble as an adult. It was never anything too serious, until then.
From 2007-2008, I attended college to improve my communication skills, and started becoming the autistic self-advocate I am today.
I started an Asperger’s support group in Prince George back around 2008 for AutismBC, and from 2012-2020, I worked for AutismBC as the Northern Regional Coordinator. During those almost eight years, I connected families and autistic adults with the resources they needed to thrive in life. From 2020-2021, I worked for the Sinneave Family Foundation, where I developed a toolkit to support autistic adults in employment.
In October 2020, I started a short-term contract with CAN, where I led Project Relay, a series of online workshops to help employment service agencies learn how to better support autistic and intellectually-disabled job seekers during COVID-19.
Corey (left) was charged with assembling a team of experts to speak to employment service professionals from across BC.
This was definitely the most exciting job I had. I built a five member hub team of employment experts and self-advocates, who presented on various employment and mental health related topics during three virtual webinars, all held in February and March 2021.
I was motivated to lead this project because I wanted to ensure autistics were getting help to find work during the pandemic. I really enjoyed the collaboration between myself, and the larger team of hub team members, co-workers, etc. I love working with others, learning from them, and they from me.
If I was to give one piece of advice to self-advocates about educating others on autism, it would be to speak from the heart, and be honest about your experiences.
People want to hear your stories. Tell them what autism acceptance means to you. What it means to me is that I can accepted for being who I am. That is very important to me.
As we transition from awareness to acceptance, remember simply knowing about autism is not enough. We need to accept autistics for who they are, and embrace their uniqueness. Everybody is unique, and special in their own way. The best action we can take is to share our stories, and listen to others sharing theirs.
You may recognize Corey as one of the nine autistic voices featured in our #AutismAcceptance video with EY this April:
For every comment or share of the video until Apr 30, EY will donate $2 to CAN! See the post on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter or LinkedIN!
Learn more about the voices featured in the video:
I’ve been accessing Canucks Autism Network (CAN) programs for almost a year now.
I thought about joining a couple of years back, but hesitated. I was busy with high school and was in a very bad place mentally and emotionally. But I’ve been making progress on healing and being in a better place.
Being with CAN has really been a journey, since I felt like I was entirely on my own beforehand. I joined last August near the beginning of the pandemic.
I thought, “How do I find people that are just like me?”
I had looked elsewhere, but was often found ineligible for different services and programs because I was deemed ‘high functioning’.
Before CAN, I had been paired with workers who had made me feel afraid to show my true Autistic self – that I could not understand social cues or that I experienced sensory overload. I felt like I had to stand up for myself and justify why I deserved to be respected as a human being at a young age.
I can make some eye contact and I can speak, so I was often made to feel like I should be able to move past those social and sensory challenges. It left me with way more emotional scars than I needed. I felt helpless, scared and alone. Looking back on it, I would never wish it on anyone at all.
So when I joined CAN, I really had no idea what to expect. I joined their Youth & Adult Advisory Group, a group of individuals on the spectrum who provide feedback and insight on CAN programming. After the first session online, there was already a huge difference from what I’ve been used to.
I shared about how certain actions we see in the community can stigmatize Autistic individuals – how making us feel like certain behaviours are inherently bad can be very damaging. I didn’t get questioned or scrutinized for what I had to say. I actually felt as if my voice mattered, and that I was believed with no judgement or shame whatsoever.
“Autism acceptance means I’m part of a community that supports and listens to me.”
Maxwell is one of nine Autistic voices who took part in our Autism Acceptance Month video with EY.
For every comment or share of the video on FB, IG, Tw, IN during April 2021, EY donated $2.
Since the Advisory Group, I have joined a number of CAN programs, including the Skills Training Employment Program (CAN-STEP). The program is a 12-week paid opportunity for Autistic youth and adults. I was part of their first cohort this past winter. It took time to build back the confidence that I had shattered. But by the end, I had learned much more than what my five years of high school had taught me – and in a way that I can understand.
Maxwell (bottom right) on “graduation day” with CAN-STEP in March 2021.
The program also allowed me to reunite with a childhood friend, both online in CAN-STEP’s virtual classroom and in-person after the program. As part of CAN-STEP, I’ll be working with CAN as an office assistant starting this May. I’m looking forward to it, including working alongside my future colleagues!
The best way to support the Autistic community is to listen to us, amplify our voices and to be willing to work with the Autistic community to bring change, justice, and acceptance as a whole.
As an Autistic person in the community, both online and in person, it’s both saddening and infuriating seeing certain groups stigmatize us – and then around April, act like they have our backs or speak for us just for their own publicity gain. We’re not here to be alienated and looked down upon. We’re human just like everyone else. We just need support and acceptance for who we are – not a cure or to be “solved like a missing piece of the puzzle.”
Yes, I’m proud of the first steps our communities are making right now. It’s a good thing to shift to “acceptance”. But now we got to continue to strive forward for continued change.
I’m glad to speak out on this month with the best of my ability. I’d like to end with a quote which I stand by to this day: “Nothing about us, without us.”
Natanya Katz is a Canucks Autism Network (CAN) support worker. This past World Autism Day, she was one of nine individuals on the spectrum who shared what autism acceptance means to them in our video with EY:
For every comment or share on the video until Apr 30, EY will donate $2 to CAN.
See the post on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter or LinkedIN!
Throughout the month, we have been taking turns expanding on the stories of each of our video participants. So we asked Natanya: What drives her to work for CAN? What should people know about autism? And why is autism acceptance important?
“It’s important to accept, be open to everyone and enjoy everyone’s unique and individual personalities and abilities,” Natanya said.
As a young woman on the spectrum, her lived experience fuels the understanding and compassion she brings to our programs. Natanya has been with CAN for just over two years. Before being hired as a support worker, she started as a volunteer, supporting kids in our summer programs.
In addition to supporting CAN camps & weekly programs, Natanya (2nd from right) has also volunteered at fundraisers & family experiences!
“My favourite memory at CAN was Overnight Camp on Keats. I remember encouraging one of the campers to let me take him out on the water in a kayak. We saw dozens of seals. His excitement was so rewarding.”
That summer alone, Natanya volunteered in two week-long summer day camps and a full three days at Keats – tirelessly supporting our participants in a range of scenarios.
The following season, Natanya jumped in the pool to support our weekly swimming lessons. Overseeing our swim program at our JCC location in Vancouver was Kaitlin Sterndale-Bennett. Recalling Natanya’s time as a volunteer, Kaitlin had particularly high praise:
“I cannot speak highly enough about Natanya. As a volunteer, she was naturally responsive to the kids, excellent with our visual tools and calm under pressure. She was one of the strongest individuals in the pool.”
Needless to say, Natanya was quickly hired on as a support worker. Her tireless energy, natural ability and clear dedication to helping others are such a benefit to our participants.
“I want people to know that people on the autism spectrum are just like everyone else. We have goals and dreams. And we work hard to be successful and achieve them.”
We are so lucky to have individuals like Natanya supporting our participants and families. In addition to guiding our participants in their skill development, she is showcasing first-hand how individuals on the spectrum can lead the way in their community.
For so many years, I was supporting CAN participants without knowing that I, myself, was on the autism spectrum. One of the most liberating things about becoming a CAN participant was knowing that I could leave my mask at the door.
Mitchell progressed significantly in the program. And by the end of his 3rd season, we could see his levels of frustration begin to build. Mitchell was starting to want more from the program than the program was intended to sustain.
In 1985, I was referred to BC Children’s Hospital, as my parents were trying to figure out what made me tick. You see, as a child I kept mostly to myself, and was content to play by myself for hours on end. I appeared to be hyperactive, rocking for hours on my spring horse. I also had gross motor skills deficits. My childhood doctors kept telling my mom that she was an “overpicky” mother, and my quirks would correct themselves in time. The doctors at Children’s Hospital diagnosed me with ADHD, and told my parents “I met all the signs of autism, except I could talk.” They missed the mark, and I would have to wait sixteen years before I learned I was autistic.
In school, I benefitted from extra time on assignments, and tests, including my high school final exams. This helped me succeed, and earn honour roll standing multiple times in both elementary and high school. English was my best subject, and math my worst. I never used any of that algebra they tried to teach me. With these supports, I graduated in 1996 with the rest of my peers, and went on to complete a BA in English and History at UNBC, graduating in 2003.
Needless to say, Natanya was quickly hired on as a support worker. Her tireless energy, natural ability and clear dedication to helping others are such a benefit to our participants.