Yesterday, we received the sad news that Steve Silberman, the author of the New York Times bestseller NeuroTribes: the Legacy of Autism and the Future of Neurodiversity, died. For more than a decade, I was very lucky to have collaborated and been friends with Steve, who was such an amazing source of inspiration.
Steve’s book NeuroTribes, published in 2016, changed the way that autistics look at our community. Prior to it, we had been taught that autism was a disability, maybe something that autistics like me, who were able to “pass” as neurotypical, would “grow out” of.
Steve, who had come of age as part of the gay rights movement, taught us that autistics live in our own different culture and we shouldn’t focus on “growing out” of autism, but instead on growing our community as autistics.
Harvard professor Ari Ne’eman, who was the first openly autistic person confirmed by the Senate for a cabinet post, wrote passionately about how Steve got so many to think about neurodiversity differently.
“NeuroTribes changed the conversation in such a dramatic way that it no longer feels as revolutionary today as it did when it came out,” wrote Ne’eman of the book. “But as someone who was there at the time, NeuroTribes was a game-changer and one that would not have happened without Steve, who put a tremendous amount of work into its writing (often at the cost of his health and wellbeing). If you first heard the word “neurodiversity” outside the relatively small universe of autistic bloggers, listservs, and social media users, that was in large part the result of his contributions”.
(Check out this great interview by NPR’s Terry Gross on “Fresh Air” done back in 2016).
I was very lucky to have collaborated with Steve and had some of my work cited by him. He was a real mensch, a hysterical guy and a big supporter. I can’t tell you how many times I received positive messages from him about articles or just retweets. (Until Steve deleted Twitter in protest of Elon Musk – he was always a principled person).
Steve was like a lighthouse in a storm for so many autistics. A source of comfort, insight, and support in a very overwhelming world for many of us. May Steve’s memory always be a memory to marginalized people everywhere looking to build community.
I’ll miss my friend dearly but he lives on among so many of us in the autistic community.
