By Ellie Simmers | Assistant Editor
Death and taxes: the two certainties Benjamin Franklin famously claimed are inevitable in life. However, according to the Secretary of Health and Human Services and measles enthusiast, Robert F. Kennedy Jr., these “certainties” don’t apply to people with autism.
“These are kids who will never pay taxes, they’ll never hold a job, they’ll never play baseball, they’ll never write a poem, they’ll never go on a date, many of them will never use a toilet unassisted,” Kennedy said, continuing to push his unfounded conspiracy theories that vaccines, environmental toxins, and diet are to blame for autism.
I debated writing about these comments at all. I didn’t want to give Kennedy’s ignorance more coverage than it has already been getting.
But as someone who is on the autism spectrum, I felt not only a responsibility, but a duty, to use the platform I have to speak up and stand with my community.
When I was diagnosed with autism in 2019, I thought it was the end of the world. I made my mom swear up and down never to tell anyone. I even turned down academic accommodations that could have genuinely helped me, simply because I was ashamed.
Deeply ashamed.
I had internalized every stereotype and stigma that people like Kennedy continue to spread.
It took me a long time to come to terms with the new label attached to my name. For a while, it felt like everything I thought I knew about myself had shifted. I was constantly worried people would see me differently, treat me like I was broken, or dismiss everything I’d accomplished.
I internalized the lie that autism was a limitation, rather than a different way of experiencing the world.
But little by little, I started to unlearn my way of thinking. I educated myself. I found others on the spectrum who were thriving in ways that didn’t fit the stereotypes I’d been exposed to.
Kennedy says people like me will never pay taxes, never write a poem, never go on a date, never use a toilet unassisted. But here’s the truth: I am a fully independent woman who does all of that and more.
But this isn’t just about me.
I’m not writing this to prove my worth or to counter every harmful comment of Kennedy’s with a personal rebuttal.
I’m writing this because his words don’t just misrepresent autistic people—they dehumanize us.
When someone in a position of power claims that an entire group of people are incapable of living full, meaningful lives, he gives others permission to treat us as less than human.
He reinforces the idea that we’re burdens. That we don’t belong. That we’re not worth investing in, worth hiring, worth dating, worth teaching, or worth listening to.
Unfortunately, Kennedy is no longer just a quack lawyer riding on the coattails of his family name.
He is the Secretary of Health and Human Services for the United States of America, a thought that is equally dumbfounding and terrifying.
After firing 10,000 public health workers, Kennedy went on to make an array of wild, conspiratorial claims, including a promise to “find the cause” of autism by September.
At a press conference, Kennedy addressed a recent CDC study that reported 1 in 31 children are on the autism spectrum, saying, “Autism destroys families, and more importantly, it destroys our greatest resource, which is our children.”
This isn’t just careless language—it harkens to a dark time in history.
Statements like Kennedy’s echo the dark legacy of eugenics, a movement that sought to control human reproduction by deeming certain people, including those with disabilities, unfit for society.
The eugenics movement gave rise to the idea that people with autism and other disabilities were a drain on society, arguing that their existence posed a threat to the “genetic purity” of the human race.
Starting in 1895, when eugenics policies began in the United States, autistic children were seen as burdens, destined to live lives that were, as Kennedy continuously puts it, “destroyed” by their diagnosis.
This kind of rhetoric justified forced sterilizations, institutionalization, and the erasure of people with disabilities from public life.
When Kennedy claims that autism destroys families and children, he resurrects the very language that once led to these horrific practices.
Kennedy may not be advocating for forced sterilizations or institutionalization today, but make no mistake: his words create a space for discrimination, exclusion, and the denial of basic rights for disabled people.
And now, with Kennedy announcing the creation of a registry made to “track” autistic individuals, as well as access private health records, pharmacy information, smart watch data, and lab results, to create said registry as a way to “determine the cause” of autism by September 2025.
Yes, there are higher numbers of people diagnosed with autism today than there were before.
But just like there are more left-handed people today than ever before, the increase isn’t because something is inherently wrong.
It’s because we have more doctors, more research, more knowledge, and more acceptance of neurodivergence.
This growth in diagnoses isn’t an epidemic of autism; it’s a reflection of how we are finally learning to recognize and support the full diversity of human experiences, whether you are left-handed or autistic.
Kennedy’s desperate attempts to pin vaccines, diet, or environmental toxins as the causes of autism are part of a larger agenda to ignore those who society doesn’t label as “normal.”
The truth is, autism has always existed, and it will continue to exist.
Autistic people are everywhere.
Love on The Spectrum, a dating show solely focused on adults with autism looking for love, is currently #4 on the top Netflix shows this week.
John Elder Robison, a neurodivergent scholar who recently came and spoke on the University of Lynchburg’s campus, has worked with some of the biggest bands in the world, including Pink Floyd and Kiss, as well as for the National Institutes of Health.
The Neurodiverse Student Alliance (NSA) is a welcoming and vibrant community on University of Lynchburg’s campus that is not only a space for neurodivergent individuals, but for those who want to be an ally to them as well.
And even Benjamin Franklin himself, one of the most prominent Founding Fathers of the United States, was thought to have been on the autism spectrum.
Kennedy’s words aren’t just inaccurate—they’re dangerous.
They perpetuate an outdated, harmful narrative that holds back progress, fuels discrimination, and denies the full humanity of people like me.
But I won’t stand for that. We, autistic people, won’t stand for that.
We have every right to live fully, to love, to work, and to be respected for who we are.
It’s time for society to embrace that truth, and for those in power, like Kennedy, to stop undermining our worth with their ignorance.
Instead of wasting taxpayer money on wild conspiracy theories about autism, it’s time for Kennedy to focus on the real issues, like addressing the rapidly growing measles outbreak that his anti-vaccine rhetoric has fueled.
Stop talking about me and start talking about measles.
Or rather, stop talking and start doing the job you have, even if you are widely unfit to serve in such a position.
Autism and autistic people aren’t going anywhere, so stop talking for once and just listen.
Thank you for sharing your story.