It’s the day after Hallowe’en. I’m pushing my baby in her stroller down the wheelchair ramp to the train station’s entrance when the door opens. Out comes a woman with a two- or three-year-old child in a Spiderman costume.

The woman takes a step to the side, enough to clear the route through, and gets out her phone. Mini-Spiderman looks around, spots the stroller coming down, crams himself tight against the wall, and then starts vigorously waving the woman away.

Mini-Spiderman: “MOM, WATCH OUT! WATCH OUT, MOM! MOM, WATCH OUT!”

The woman looks at him, then up the ramp at the baby and me, and then smiles and steps even farther to the side.

Me: “Thank you, Spiderman!”

Mini-Spiderman: *Cheerfully* “No, actually, I’m Batman.”

I guess even Batman gets to dress up for Hallowe’en!

At eighteen, I was diagnosed with ADHD. Over the years, I’ve used different coping mechanisms to stay organized to varying degrees of effectiveness. I probably could have benefited from medications but felt like it wasn’t affecting my life too negatively.

Once the global health crisis hit, I was laid off.

When my industry reopens, the myriad of new regulations, sanitizing steps, changes to daily practice, and dealing with the public who may or may not have strong opinions on the rules all lead to my stress levels rising and my ADHD becoming more unmanageable. Brain fog and memory issues rise through the roof. Now, at thirty-six years old, I’ve decided to talk to a psychiatrist to look into medication options.

These are some highlights from my very frustrating two-hour appointment where I feel like I am defending the legitimacy of my diagnosis.

Doctor: “Your teachers never complained about you?”

Me: “No, but I still struggled in my classes.”

Doctor: “No one talked to your parents and your teachers never complained, so it couldn’t have been that bad.”

Also:

Doctor: “You studied subjects that required a lot of academic focus in college. So it couldn’t have been that bad.”

Me: “I ended up dropping out because I couldn’t maintain my GPA. I only did well in the classes I liked and needed for my degree. I failed the mandatory Bible classes everyone had to take.”

Bible college was a bad choice.

Also:

Doctor: “Do you ever have issues with distractibility?”

Me: “Sometimes I forget I’m hungry and I go all day without eating. Suppertime rolls around and I can’t figure out why I’m starving, and then I realize I might not have eaten at all that day.”

Doctor: “GOOD FOR YOU!”

Also:

Me: “My work has been really affected. All the new rules and regulations because of the health crisis have caused me to forget a lot of important things and it’s causing my performance to suffer.”

Doctor: “The crisis has changed everyone’s jobs. Your job isn’t that hard, anyway, not like a secretary. You don’t even need to concentrate that hard, not like a secretary.”

Also:

Doctor: “So why did you look for a diagnosis? Who referred you?”

Me: “My dad and my little sister both have it. I’ve had many of the same issues as my sister. She was diagnosed with dyslexia in kindergarten and they found out about her ADHD during those tests. At the time, I was just the chatty, loud, fidgety kid. I flew under the radar until years later when I realized I probably had it, as well. That’s why I looked into it.”

Doctor: “So why did you go looking for a diagnosis?”

Me: “Because it ran in my family? As I said, I already have a dad and sister with it, and I wanted to know before I went to college so I could be prepared during exams if I needed academic accommodations.”

I was close to tears a couple of times, and after I hung up, I realized I had been on the phone with him for two hours. I was so frustrated and upset. I talked with some friends about what happened and they all told me I should make a complaint.

I contacted my hospital’s Patient Experience Liaison as soon as I felt mentally ready. After an investigation, they found that I got an accurate assessment but his tone and wording did need to be addressed.

The doctor approached me and said he was sorry that I’d had such a negative experience and would use my complaints to focus on self-improvements. The director of the unit said my experience would be used to help teach students the importance of proper communication.

It’s in my file that I will never be scheduled with that doctor again.

There might not have been drastic changes, but I’m happy it’s on his record, and I hope that if others have issues with him, they also file reports.

I work in retail at a costume store. Halloween is coming up soon so we’ve had a few more people come in and out than usual. A customer walks into the store and up to the counter.

Me: “Yes, can I help you?”

The customer says nothing and starts looking at the costume racks around the store, before coming back up to me.

Me: “Yes?”

The customer holds up some stickers.

Customer: “I want you to slap these on the costumes.”

Me: “Uh, why?”

Customer: “Because these costumes are quite racist and offensive! Appropriating a proud people’s culture into a joke!”

Me: “I’m sorry but I can’t do that; in fact, you aren’t allowed to put those stickers on yourself.”

Customer: “So you don’t care about racism?”

Me: “No, I care a lot; it’s just that some people won’t like to find a costume that’s labelled as racist. They won’t buy it, and I’ll get in trouble if I let you stick the stickers on, sorry.”

Customer: “If you care about racism, why not help me?”

Me: “Because like I said, I’d like to help deal with racism, but I can’t do it here.”

Customer: “Well, clearly, you are just an over-privileged racist!”

They turned around and strutted out. I swear, though, as soon as they got out, they met up with a friend and I think they started laughing. I haven’t seen them the past few days so maybe it was their attempt at a practical joke.

I’m an Indigenous person. My mother is white and my father is Indigenous, but I was raised fully understanding my First Nations history and on reserve, too. Because of this mixed heritage, people frequently have a hard time “determining” what I am. I have heard it all; Indian, Lebanese, Iranian, Polish, Japanese, Russian, Brazilian, Spanish, Greek, Mexican… almost anything but what I actually am. This type of interaction happens often. Let it also be noted that I think that I have “resting pleasant face” from far too many years in retail.

Stranger: “What are you?”

Me: “Canadian.”

Stranger: “No, I mean your parents.”

Me: “Yeah, Canadian.”

Stranger: “No, I mean, what is your heritage?”

Me: “Canadian.”

Stranger: “No, I mean…”

Me: “Let me cut you off, ‘cause it goes all the way down.”

I’ve also, unfortunately, been subjected to people that are clearly trying to find a way to insult me and claim that I’m somehow undeserving of the job or opportunity I’ve got. They’ll fish in this same way but get increasingly angry at my inability to play into their game.

Honestly, maybe it’s because I am on the autism spectrum, but as disturbing as I find it, it is equally funny to watch them struggle to claim that I’m taking jobs away from “Real Canadians.”

My “favourite” person finally yelled at me, “Go back to where you came from!” I smiled and said, “You go back to where you came from, white boy. I’ve got a card that proves I was here before you.” People, don’t assume people of colour are not from wherever you are, both by recent history or heritage. All you do is show your own ignorance!

My father is in a wheelchair, and our next-door neighbor is a very bigoted man. He calls my father lazy, mentally r******d, stupid, alcoholic, and derogatory terms for Native Americans.

One day, my father and I are on our porch enjoying the sunshine when our neighbor appears on his doorstep and shouts across the yard to us.

Neighbor: “Go back inside, you lazy r*****!”

Father: “This is my property, [Neighbor]. I’ll do what I please.”

Neighbor: “I said go back inside!”

Father: “Or you’ll what?”

Neighbor: “I’ll shoot you!”

Father: “Go ahead. I’ve got a nail gun. [My Name] is pretty good with a rifle. He can shoot you in the scrotum in the two seconds it takes for you to go back inside your house and never speak to us again.”

The neighbor went back inside.

A few minutes later, a cop car showed up, and he got out and spoke with our neighbor. Then they came to our house for our side of the story, and I showed them the video footage of our neighbor coming out and insulting us and threatening my dad. Both the neighbor and my dad were arrested and both were charged with threatening with a deadly weapon, but my neighbor also got charged with discrimination and harassment, and he confessed to planning to poison our dog with bleach. He’ll be serving time longer than my dad will be.