“Before People See the Autism, They See My Race”: Masking, Belonging, and the Reality for Black Autistic Girls in UK Schools
If you’re both Black and Autistic in the UK school system, you’re playing the expert-level version of “fit in.” The rules keep changing, no one tells you what they are, and spoiler alert: you weren’t the one who wrote them.
A recent study by Tiffany Nelson and Hannah Lichwa (2025) dives into what this reality looks like for Black Autistic girls, unpacking the exhausting, often invisible work of masking — hiding or toning down Autistic traits to get by — all while facing racism, sexism, and ableism.
What is Masking?
Masking is basically running social software that was never designed for your operating system. It’s forcing eye contact when your eyes want to look elsewhere, suppressing your stims, rehearsing lines like you’re in a one-person play, or mimicking other people’s mannerisms so you don’t stand out.
Some people think of it as “coping.” Research (Hull et al., 2017; Radulski, 2022) says otherwise: it’s mentally and physically draining, linked to anxiety, depression, burnout, and losing touch with your authentic self.
For the girls in this study, masking wasn’t just a neurodivergent thing — it was a survival thing in spaces where being Black was noticed before being Autistic, and everything from how they spoke to how they moved was filtered through racial bias.
An important note on masking:
Masking isn’t always a choice or equally safe for everyone — especially for BIPOC neurodivergent people. For many, masking is not about fitting in — it’s about survival.
In a world that punishes neurodivergence and racialized identities, BIPOC folks are often navigating layers of threat. Behaviors that might be seen as “quirky” or “eccentric” in white neurodivergent individuals are too often viewed as defiant, disruptive, or even dangerous when coming from Black, Brown, Indigenous, or other marginalized people. This is especially true for those who are multiply marginalized by gender, disability, class, or immigration status.
For BIPOC neurodivergent individuals, unmasking can lead to:
Increased surveillance or punishment in schools and workplaces
Being misdiagnosed or dismissed by healthcare providers
Greater risk of police violence or institutionalization
Cultural invalidation, where neurodivergent traits are labeled as disrespectful, lazy, aggressive, or "not trying hard enough"
Social and familial rejection, especially in communities where mental health and neurodivergence remain highly stigmatized
These realities make masking an adaptive response to real, systemic dangers — not a simple choice to be undone with self-love and bravery alone.
What can allies do? especially white neurodivergent people:
We start by honoring the intelligence and resilience behind masking.
We stop shaming people for doing what they need to survive.
We fight for systems that allow all people to be fully seen, heard, and safe — without needing to contort themselves into palatable versions of "acceptable."
We also build spaces where unmasking is invitational, not expected — spaces that center cultural context, lived experience, and the layered truths of BIPOC neurodivergent lives.
Because healing isn’t just individual — it’s collective. And no one should have to choose between authenticity and safety.
Five Themes from the Study
1. Acceptance and Belonging Matter
(No, Really)
Every participant — aged 16–17 — described the mental health cost of feeling excluded, invisible, or misunderstood.
Poppy put it plainly:
“I had never ever seen a Black Autistic girl… it caused me loads of mental problems, like it gave me depression and anxiety.”
Representation isn’t “nice to have.” It’s protective. Seeing people like you can be the difference between thriving and just barely making it.
2. Managing Social Expectations is Exhausting
Masking meant constantly performing to keep friends, please teachers, and avoid discipline. Lily described socialising as “fighting for my life,” while SS said outings left her “exhausted” from keeping up the act.
From the outside? They looked fine.
On the inside? They were running on fumes.
3. Autism, Race, and Gender Don’t Take Turns
Participants spoke about overt racism and microaggressions — from unsolicited hair-touching to being compared to “black dirt.” Their distress was often written off as “bad behaviour,” feeding into the “angry Black girl” stereotype.
As Maia said:
“Before they see the autism, they’re always going to see my race.”
You can’t separate race from disability or gender here — it’s all happening at once.
4. Sensory Overload is Real — and Still Dismissed
Noise, touch, textures — all could be overwhelming, but instead of support, the girls were sometimes labelled “crazy” or “a basket case.”
For Poppy, having her hair touched wasn’t just a sensory violation; it was also a racial microaggression tangled up with Eurocentric beauty standards.
5. Support Changes Everything
When they found genuine support — from family, neurodivergent friends, or rare understanding teachers — masking became less necessary.
Maia spoke about a friend who “validates my feelings, but also gives me a different perspective.”
That’s not just nice — it’s survival.
how can Schools & Society do better?
Masking is not a personality flaw. It’s a stress response to environments built for neurotypical, white, able-bodied norms.
If schools are serious about inclusion, they need to:
Listen to Autistic voices — especially Black Autistic voices.
Challenge racist and ableist stereotypes in the classroom.
Create spaces where authenticity is valued over conformity.
Address racism and ableism together — because students experience them together.
The goal isn’t to make Autistic kids “fit in” better — it’s to change the system so they don’t have to hide in the first place.
If You’re a Black Autistic Student (or know, teach and love one)
Your feelings and sensory needs are valid.
The pressure to conform is not a personal failure — it’s the weight of harmful, shitty systems. White supremacy, patriarchy, capitalism — these are not just buzzwords,
they shape how you’re treated, how you’re expected to show up, and how much space you’re "allowed" to take up. Their impact on you is significant, but it is never a reflection of your worth.Finding your people — the ones who truly see you — can change everything.
Unmasking in safe, affirming spaces isn’t weakness.
It’s resistance.
It’s healing.
It’s yours.
Ready to Take the Next Step?
If you're feeling unseen or misunderstood—especially as a neurodivergent person of color navigating intertwined systems of racism, ableism, and patriarchy—you’re not alone. Masking isn't weakness; it's survival in a world that often demands you to hide your brilliance.
You deserve support that honors all of who you are. At Neuron & Rose, we offer neuro-affirming therapy, gender affirming care and comprehensive evaluations for Autism, ADHD, and learning disabilities such as dyslexia—designed to center your racial identity, sensory profile, and lived experience.
Therapy: Collaborate with therapists who understand how masking, systemic pressures, and intersectional realities affect mental health and authenticity.
Evaluations: Get the clarity and accommodations you need—with respect for cultural context and individual strengths.
** Healing isn’t a solo journey. Resisting isn’t just bold, it’s necessary.**
It’s never too late to be seen, heard, and affirmed- Contact us to begin.
Sources:
Nelson, T., & Lichwa, H. (2025). The lived experiences of masking Black Autistic girls in UK education: “before people see the autism, they see my race.” Educational Psychology in Practice. https://doi.org/10.1080/02667363.2025.2541211
Hull, L. et al. (2017). Social camouflaging in adults with autism spectrum conditions. Journal of Autism and Developmental Disorders, 47(8), 2519–2534.
Radulski, E. M. (2022). Conceptualising autistic masking and neurotypical privilege. Human Development, 66(2), 113–127.
Crenshaw, K. (1989). Demarginalizing the intersection of race and sex. University of Chicago Legal Forum, 1989(1), 139–167.
Disclaimers:
Land Acknowledgment: We live and work on the unseated territories of the Wahpekute and Chumash peoples, we pay respects to their elders past and present. We encourage folks to explore the ancestral lands they live and work on, and to learn about the Native communities that live there, the treaties that have been broken. If folks feel called, we encourage them to consider taking actions to support Native communities, reparations, and land back movements (see other resources at the end for more info).
A note on language: The language in the DSM, including the use of the word disorder (D in acronym), some find this harmful, while others prefer the language “disorder.” When this language is used, it is because, as mental health professionals, we need to use this same language when referring to “diagnoses” in the DSM. In addition some Autistics find the use of the level system helpful in identifying the level of support needed, while others view it as an overly simplistic way of defining something that’s fluid, and may feel it’s harmful and minimizing. The beauty is that each individual gets to choose what language feels validating and affirming to them. Inspired by Dr. Jennifer Mullan, we use the term, “therapy participant” rather than “client” or “patient,” as we work toward decolonizing therapy.
Educational Purposes: The information presented here is for educational purposes, and not meant to diagnose, treat or cure medical conditions or challenges, including neurodivergence (including mental health challenges), or physical health.
