Intersectionality and Autism: Why Identity Shapes Experience More Than We Often Realise

The Question That Changed How I Think About Autism

One of the things that has stayed with me throughout my work is how differently autistic children can be understood, even when their needs appear remarkably similar on paper.

Over the years, I have worked with children who shared many of the same challenges. They experienced similar sensory sensitivities, communicated in comparable ways and often required support with many of the same aspects of daily life. Yet the way adults spoke about them, interpreted their behaviour and responded to their needs was not always the same. Some children were described as anxious while others were described as challenging. Some were viewed as vulnerable and in need of support, while others were expected to demonstrate resilience and independence despite experiencing similar levels of difficulty.

For a long time, I found myself returning to the same question. If the support needs were broadly similar, why did the responses differ so dramatically?

The longer I reflected on that question, the more I realised that autism is never the only thing shaping a person's experience of the world. Every autistic child is also shaped by their culture, family, language, gender, race, community, socioeconomic background and life experiences. These aspects of identity influence how they understand themselves, how others understand them and how systems respond to their needs.

This is where intersectionality becomes important.

Intersectionality is often presented as an academic concept, but in practice it is remarkably simple. It reminds us that people do not experience the world through a single aspect of their identity. No child is simply autistic. Every child exists at the intersection of multiple identities that interact continuously and influence how they move through the world. Autism may be a significant part of that experience, but it is never the whole story.

The more time I spend supporting autistic children and young people, the more convinced I become that many of the misunderstandings we see around autism are not actually misunderstandings of autism itself. They are misunderstandings of autistic people whose experiences do not fit the expectations we have unconsciously developed.

The Problem With Having a Picture in Our Heads

Although most professionals would agree that autism presents differently from one person to another, I think many of us still carry an unconscious image of what autism is supposed to look like.

We talk regularly about autism being a spectrum, and rightly so. We emphasise individuality, diversity and the importance of seeing each person as unique. Yet despite this, there can still be a tendency to compare children, however unconsciously, against a mental picture that has been shaped by years of research, training and professional experience.

Historically, much of the research that informed our understanding of autism focused on white boys. As a result, many of the examples used in training courses, textbooks and professional discussions reflected a relatively narrow presentation. That does not mean the research was wrong, but it does mean that generations of professionals were exposed to a particular version of autism more frequently than others.

The consequences of this are still visible today.

When a child does not fit the presentation we have come to expect, their needs can be overlooked or misunderstood. Difficulties may be attributed to anxiety, personality, cultural differences or family circumstances before autism is ever considered. In some cases, children spend years trying to navigate challenges that make perfect sense through an autism lens, but because their presentation does not match the stereotype, the support they need arrives much later than it should.

What concerns me most is that this process is often invisible. Nobody consciously decides to overlook a child. Most professionals are doing their best with the knowledge they have. Yet assumptions have a remarkable way of shaping what we notice and what we miss.

The problem is not that these children are less autistic. The problem is that our expectations have sometimes been too narrow.

Why Behaviour Is Never Interpreted Neutrally

One of the most valuable lessons behaviour support has taught me is that behaviour does not simply exist waiting to be observed. Behaviour is interpreted, and interpretation is influenced by far more than we often realise.

As professionals, we like to think of ourselves as objective. We collect data, analyse patterns and attempt to make decisions based on evidence rather than assumption. Yet before any of those processes occur, we are already assigning meaning to what we see. We are deciding whether a behaviour appears anxious, defiant, communicative, attention-seeking, distress-based or purposeful. Those interpretations influence every decision that follows.

The challenge is that interpretation is never entirely neutral.

The same behaviour can be viewed very differently depending on who is displaying it. Distress may be recognised immediately in one child but interpreted as non-compliance in another. A child who withdraws socially may be viewed as anxious, while another may be described as disengaged. Some children are afforded the benefit of curiosity when they struggle, whereas others encounter correction before understanding.

I do not believe these differences are usually the result of conscious prejudice. More often, they emerge from assumptions that have been absorbed over time through culture, experience and wider societal narratives. That is precisely why intersectionality matters. It encourages us to examine the assumptions we bring into our observations and to recognise that our understanding of behaviour is often shaped by factors that extend far beyond the behaviour itself.

The question is not whether we have assumptions. We all do. The question is whether we are willing to notice them.

When Autism and Culture Intersect

Culture influences almost every aspect of human behaviour, yet it is often treated as a secondary consideration when professionals are trying to understand autistic children.

Communication styles, emotional expression, attitudes towards authority, expectations around independence and family dynamics are all shaped by culture. These factors influence how behaviour is displayed, how support is sought and how difficulties are understood.

Take eye contact as a simple example. In many Western contexts, eye contact is often viewed as an indicator of engagement, confidence and social connection. However, in other cultures, prolonged eye contact with adults may be considered disrespectful or inappropriate. Without cultural understanding, it becomes easy to interpret behaviour solely through an autism lens while overlooking the broader context influencing the child's actions.

The same principle applies to emotional expression. Some children grow up in environments where emotions are discussed openly and frequently. Others are raised within cultural contexts that place greater emphasis on emotional restraint or privacy. These differences do not disappear because a child is autistic. Instead, they interact with autism in ways that influence how support needs are expressed and understood.

The more I have reflected on this, the more convinced I have become that understanding autism requires us to understand the environment in which autism is being lived. Without that context, we risk developing explanations that are technically accurate but incomplete.

When Looking Fine Becomes a Problem

One of the most complex aspects of intersectionality is the way it influences masking.

Many autistic children become exceptionally skilled at studying the people around them. They observe social interactions carefully, learn which behaviours attract attention and gradually develop strategies that allow them to blend in more effectively. They suppress behaviours that feel natural, imitate behaviours that do not and spend enormous amounts of energy navigating environments that often feel confusing or overwhelming.

From the outside, this can look like success.

Children who mask effectively are frequently described as coping well. They may be praised for their maturity, independence and resilience. Teachers may view them as managing successfully. Professionals may conclude that support needs are relatively low because difficulties are not immediately visible.

Yet when you listen to many autistic adults reflecting on their childhood experiences, a very different picture often emerges.

Many describe spending years feeling exhausted by the effort required to maintain an appearance of coping. What looked like confidence from the outside often felt like anxiety on the inside. What appeared to be resilience was sometimes little more than endurance. What looked like social competence was frequently the result of careful observation, rehearsed responses and constant self-monitoring.

This is one reason why so many autistic girls are identified later than boys. It is also one reason why autistic children from certain cultural backgrounds may spend years navigating difficulties that nobody else recognises. The very strategies they use to survive become the reason their support needs remain hidden.

The more successful masking becomes, the less likely it is that someone will recognise how much support is actually needed.

Race, Autism and the Experience of Being Understood

Race is another area where intersectionality has profound implications for autistic children and young people.

Research has consistently highlighted disparities in diagnosis, access to support and educational outcomes for children from minority ethnic backgrounds. While autism itself does not change, the systems surrounding autism often do.

The way concerns are interpreted, the speed at which referrals are made and the assumptions professionals bring into conversations can all influence a child's journey through support systems. Behaviour that is viewed as anxiety in one child may be interpreted differently in another. Distress may be recognised quickly in some situations while being questioned in others.

These conversations can feel uncomfortable because they force us to look beyond individual children and examine the systems surrounding them. Yet if behaviour support is genuinely committed to understanding people, then it must also be willing to examine the contexts within which people are understood.

Ignoring these realities does not make them disappear. It simply makes them harder to address.

The Impact of Socioeconomic Circumstances

Another aspect of intersectionality that often receives less attention is socioeconomic status.

Families do not enter support systems with the same resources, opportunities or flexibility. Some are able to access specialist assessments, private support and additional services relatively easily. Others are balancing financial pressures, housing instability, limited access to healthcare, demanding work schedules or significant caring responsibilities.

These circumstances shape far more than access to diagnosis. They influence the ability to attend appointments, engage with services, navigate complex systems and advocate effectively when difficulties arise.

When professionals overlook these realities, there is a risk of interpreting structural barriers as personal choices. Families may appear disengaged when they are actually overwhelmed. Difficulties accessing support may be interpreted as a lack of motivation rather than a reflection of circumstances.

Intersectionality reminds us that context matters. Children do not exist separately from the realities surrounding their lives, and neither do their families.

Why One-Size-Fits-All Support Rarely Works

The more I reflect on intersectionality, the more convinced I become that effective support cannot be separated from the person receiving it.

Behaviour plans can be technically sound while still missing something important. Goals can be evidence-based while still failing to reflect a child's lived experience. Interventions can produce measurable outcomes while overlooking the values, identities and experiences that shape how those outcomes are experienced.

This is one of the reasons I have become increasingly cautious of one-size-fits-all approaches. They often assume that children with similar behaviours require similar support, when in reality behaviour only makes sense within the context of the life it belongs to.

Understanding autism requires more than understanding diagnostic criteria. It requires curiosity about the person behind the diagnosis.

A Final Reflection: The Children We Do Not Immediately See

The more I learn about autism, the less interested I become in finding a single explanation for autistic behaviour. What interests me now is context. I find myself increasingly curious about the experiences that sit around the diagnosis, the identities that shape daily life and the assumptions that influence how people are understood.

Intersectionality has challenged me to think differently about the autistic children and young people I support. It has reminded me that autism never exists independently of culture, gender, race, language, family values, socioeconomic circumstances or personal history. These factors do not sit neatly alongside autism as separate influences. They interact with it continuously, shaping how support needs are recognised, how behaviour is interpreted and how opportunities are accessed.

Perhaps the greatest value of intersectionality is that it forces us to question who we might still be missing. Not because professionals do not care, and not because anyone is intentionally overlooking children, but because all of us carry assumptions about what autism is supposed to look like. The children who fit those expectations are often recognised relatively quickly. The children who do not may spend years trying to make sense of experiences that nobody else fully understands.

If behaviour support is ultimately about understanding people rather than simply managing behaviour, then intersectionality cannot sit on the margins of our thinking. It must sit at the centre of it. The more fully we understand the person in front of us, the less likely we are to misunderstand the behaviour we see, and the more likely we are to create support that reflects the reality of their lived experience rather than our assumptions about who they are.