The Hope for a Future Inclusive of the Neurodiverse
Have you ever heard of time-blindness? I learned this term about five years ago. Before that, I didn’t have a name for my experience of my brain not seeming to move at the same rate of the clock on the wall, in the car, on my phone, wherever. I couldn’t understand how other people seemed to be effortlessly on-time, or know how 10-15 minutes felt in a conversation, on a run, or for a task.
To mitigate my tendency to arrive late for almost everything, I started writing a text message before I left my house that I sent once I was in the car to let someone know I was on my way. This was also how I made sure I didn’t leave my cell phone in my house. “That’s a good strategy!” a friend told me recently.
I realized in that moment that 90-95% of my waking hours I use some strategy or another to function day-to-day. Whether it’s a visual reminder of the materials I need for a task or outing, or an alarm when I need to take medication, make coffee, move my body, get ready for bed, meet the bus, or anything else I need to be aware of at a specific time. It can be exhausting some days, but it generally works!
I now model this to teach my children and others I care for that in a space that expects more of us than we can reasonably do with our differently-wired brains, we can learn to succeed with tools we collect through practice or purchase.
As the idea of neurodivergence emerges in mainstream consciousness, I hear many wondering, “Why does this seem so much more common now than when I was a kid?” and I think of what I have read about left-handedness. It was once understood that a person who had left-hand dominance was unnatural, an aberration, or worse. Estimates of left-handedness were estimated at 1-2% of the population early in the 20th century.
When left-handedness came to be understood as a normal genetic variation, estimates of this difference rose to 10-12%. It was not that more people became left-handed during this awakening, they were simply allowed to exist without punishment for this difference.
Many tools and utensils we use were designed for use by the right hand, like scissors, until modified versions became available for left-handed folks. Acknowledgement of different needs has led to innovative thinking across many sectors. Governments, schools, housing, and employment settings now apply universal design principles to develop products and environments to be usable by as many people as possible, without the need for a workaround.
This allows for inclusion of individuals once marginalized by their mobility needs, visual impairment, or communication differences. I don’t know what that will mean for people with sensory processing differences and other challenges we are only beginning to understand, but I feel hopeful when I see theatrical performances with ASL interpreting, or events advertised as sensory-friendly.
I have even seen calming spaces in churches and airports. I think of the courageous people who protested at our nation’s capital to improve access to public spaces for those limited by use of wheelchairs, who lobbied for something as simple as ramps for access and curb cuts in sidewalks.
When the built world is designed to accommodate everyone, our society changes for the better.
Article by Sarah Monahan, MAC Midwest Director of SLP & OT Services