Note: Some of the details have been changed or eliminated in order to protect the identities of the individuals described.
If we cannot now end our differences, at least we can make the world safe for diversity.
—John F. Kennedy
In the behavioral health and educational fields, we spend a great deal of time trying to help neurodivergent people—those with autism, ADHD, dyslexia, and other differences in neurological functioning—to develop skills to succeed at home, school, and work. It’s time well spent. But why don’t we spend the same amount of time teaching neurotypical people about neurodiversity and how they can be more helpful? And why don’t we ask individuals with these challenges what they want from the rest of us—and how and what we need to learn?
Neurodivergence is not a DSM [1] diagnosis. It is a term for people whose brains work differently—such as those with autism, ADHD, and learning disabilities, like dyslexia. It includes people with some genetic conditions and developmental disabilities: those with Down syndrome, Williams syndrome, and various cognitive and sensory processing disorders. In short, neurodivergence includes anyone whose brain functions differently than the majority of people or develops in an atypical way. That includes about 15–20 percent of the human population! [2]Maybe someone you know—a friend, family member, or someone you work with—has one of these conditions, or you suspect they do. Statistically, it is likely! They are all unique diagnoses and have a range of symptoms and presentations. In fact, individuals with the same diagnosis may have very different profiles.
We can generalize about one thing, though: they all often face barriers at school and at work. They may face marginalization, social isolation, unrealistic expectations, stigma, and are often misunderstood. Yes, this is changing—but not fast enough.
Big Challenges, Bigger Strengths and Opportunities
My work used to involve spending a lot of time in school classrooms observing children and teenagers, either to inform a diagnostic evaluation or get a better idea of the supports and services that were helping or hindering them. Ultimately, my goal was to make recommendations that would contribute to greater success and satisfaction at school, at home, and in the community. Too many kids told me all too often, “School just isn’t fun.” Some out and out refused to go. Adults told me, “I hate my job. Nobody understands me.”
I was once observing a student at a middle school during a lesson on world geography. The teacher opened up a large, colorful map of the world in front of the class. In less than 30 seconds, before she had said a word, the student began to yell: “No! No! That’s wrong! Stop!” He got increasingly upset and would not stop yelling, despite the teacher’s best efforts. He became so disruptive that a classroom aide escorted him out of the class and to a quiet space.
I followed and asked if I might hang out with him for a while. First we chatted about some of his interests, like primatology (he was a fan of Jane Goodall) and French cooking—not your typical middle school boy interests! When we gradually got around to talking about what happened in the classroom, I asked him what was going on. He calmly responded, “Madagascar was missing.”
Madagascar. It’s an island nation off the coast of East Africa. I admit that I wouldn’t have known if it were missing or not, because I didn’t know where it was. If you know anything about it, it is probably the fact that there are a lot of lemurs there. Or maybe you saw the animated Disney movies of the early 2000s. This kid knew everything about the country, many other African countries, and lemurs (of course). Within seconds of seeing the map, he noticed Madagascar wasn’t there, and that was disturbing to him. But due to his condition—he had been diagnosed with high functioning autism, or what we used to call Asperger’s—he wasn’t able to express that in a “socially appropriate” way.
His teacher informed me that these outbursts happen often. He fixates on little details that “don’t matter,” which is upsetting to the rest of the class. Understandable. But what I thought was, “This is a guy who notices every detail. This is the guy I would want to troubleshoot the problem with the airplane I am about to board or read my MRI.” I saw his “problem” as an asset.
Another student, an 8 year old who rarely spoke (and when he did, only in simple two- and three- word sentences), arrived at my office with his mother for an initial meeting. Since she told me he was extremely worried about the appointment and anxious about a lot of things—like escalators, thunder, and snakes—I suggested they bring a favorite game or toy or something he especially liked to do. (I reassured her that we had none of those things at my office.) I expected maybe a stuffed animal or some Lego. He showed up with a large notebook, filled with the most precise and detailed sketches of ceiling fans, table fans, air conditioners, and other cooling devices I have ever seen. He seemed very anxious and spoke very little, but he took out his pens and began to draw, and that helped him calm down. Amazing! This kid had real talent and maybe a brilliant future if he could acquire basic communication and social skills by being educated by teachers and therapists able to recognize his gifts while helping him overcome his deficits.
Then there was a girl I met with a few times a year, just for a check-in—or a “tune-up,” as we called them. After a 5-month gap, she showed up in my office, and the first thing she said was, “You were wearing that the last time I saw you. But you had different earrings. And you were getting over a cold.” Her memory was excellent—a great ability to develop and apply.
And then there was the high school sophomore, who was doing physics at the college graduate level. He often stood next to his desk and rocked back and forth while he solved problems. It helped him regulate. He always came up with the right answer. His teacher told me that if he were required to sit still and work at his desk, he would have to spend all his energy just trying to sit still, and he would not be able to do these very difficult problems. I expect to see his name on the list of Nobelists some day!
Empathy is choosing to see ourselves in another, despite our differences. It is recognizing that the same humanity, the same desire for meaning, fulfillment and security exists in each of us, even if it’s expressed uniquely.
—Vivek Murthy, Physician and former Surgeon General of the United States
I could go on, but here’s my point: look for the strengths. Look for every child and every adult’s unique qualities, skills, and talents. Acknowledge them. Help them harness them. Help their teachers and parents see them in a positive light; treat them with kindness and support them. Most importantly, ask them how you can make life easier, more comfortable, and more fun for them. They may have challenges and atypical characteristics and habits that are unfamiliar, puzzling, and even annoying. But every individual can make a contribution, sometimes a very important one, to their communities, their workplaces, and to society as a whole.
Not every individual who is neurodivergent has an unusual talent or ability. Probably most do not. But everyone can contribute. Everyone, from the very cognitively impaired or non-verbal child to the extremely dysregulated or high-strung adult, can make a difference. Approaching neurodivergence with curiosity and empathy, rather than suspicion and fear, is how we make that possible. When people feel understood, supported, appreciated, and accepted, they do their best work. It would be a very dull, stagnant world if we all saw and did the same things in the same way. It often takes time, patience, imagination, and compassion, but it is worth the effort to uncover the uniqueness of every person and share in a different way of experiencing the world.
Prepare to be amazed.
-
- The DSM, or Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, is published and updated every 5–10 years by the American Psychiatric Association. It is used by qualified medical and mental health professionals to diagnose mental health conditions and often informs treatment decisions and approaches. The current version is the DSM-5-TR, published in 2022. A new edition is due out around 2030.
- Estimates vary, but the World Health Organization reports that as many as one in three people worldwide can be classified as neurodivergent.
-
The views and opinions expressed here are solely those of the author and should not be attributed to Counslr, Inc., its partners, its employees, or any other mental health professionals Counslr employs. You should review this information and any questions regarding your specific circumstances with a medical professional. The content provided here is for informational and educational purposes only and should not be construed as counseling, therapy, or professional medical advice.
Note: Some of the details have been changed or eliminated in order to protect the identities of the individuals described.
If we cannot now end our differences, at least we can make the world safe for diversity.
—John F. Kennedy
In the behavioral health and educational fields, we spend a great deal of time trying to help neurodivergent people—those with autism, ADHD, dyslexia, and other differences in neurological functioning—to develop skills to succeed at home, school, and work. It’s time well spent. But why don’t we spend the same amount of time teaching neurotypical people about neurodiversity and how they can be more helpful? And why don’t we ask individuals with these challenges what they want from the rest of us—and how and what we need to learn?
Neurodivergence is not a DSM [1] diagnosis. It is a term for people whose brains work differently—such as those with autism, ADHD, and learning disabilities, like dyslexia. It includes people with some genetic conditions and developmental disabilities: those with Down syndrome, Williams syndrome, and various cognitive and sensory processing disorders. In short, neurodivergence includes anyone whose brain functions differently than the majority of people or develops in an atypical way. That includes about 15–20 percent of the human population! [2]Maybe someone you know—a friend, family member, or someone you work with—has one of these conditions, or you suspect they do. Statistically, it is likely! They are all unique diagnoses and have a range of symptoms and presentations. In fact, individuals with the same diagnosis may have very different profiles.
We can generalize about one thing, though: they all often face barriers at school and at work. They may face marginalization, social isolation, unrealistic expectations, stigma, and are often misunderstood. Yes, this is changing—but not fast enough.
Big Challenges, Bigger Strengths and Opportunities
My work used to involve spending a lot of time in school classrooms observing children and teenagers, either to inform a diagnostic evaluation or get a better idea of the supports and services that were helping or hindering them. Ultimately, my goal was to make recommendations that would contribute to greater success and satisfaction at school, at home, and in the community. Too many kids told me all too often, “School just isn’t fun.” Some out and out refused to go. Adults told me, “I hate my job. Nobody understands me.”
I was once observing a student at a middle school during a lesson on world geography. The teacher opened up a large, colorful map of the world in front of the class. In less than 30 seconds, before she had said a word, the student began to yell: “No! No! That’s wrong! Stop!” He got increasingly upset and would not stop yelling, despite the teacher’s best efforts. He became so disruptive that a classroom aide escorted him out of the class and to a quiet space.
I followed and asked if I might hang out with him for a while. First we chatted about some of his interests, like primatology (he was a fan of Jane Goodall) and French cooking—not your typical middle school boy interests! When we gradually got around to talking about what happened in the classroom, I asked him what was going on. He calmly responded, “Madagascar was missing.”
Madagascar. It’s an island nation off the coast of East Africa. I admit that I wouldn’t have known if it were missing or not, because I didn’t know where it was. If you know anything about it, it is probably the fact that there are a lot of lemurs there. Or maybe you saw the animated Disney movies of the early 2000s. This kid knew everything about the country, many other African countries, and lemurs (of course). Within seconds of seeing the map, he noticed Madagascar wasn’t there, and that was disturbing to him. But due to his condition—he had been diagnosed with high functioning autism, or what we used to call Asperger’s—he wasn’t able to express that in a “socially appropriate” way.
His teacher informed me that these outbursts happen often. He fixates on little details that “don’t matter,” which is upsetting to the rest of the class. Understandable. But what I thought was, “This is a guy who notices every detail. This is the guy I would want to troubleshoot the problem with the airplane I am about to board or read my MRI.” I saw his “problem” as an asset.
Another student, an 8 year old who rarely spoke (and when he did, only in simple two- and three- word sentences), arrived at my office with his mother for an initial meeting. Since she told me he was extremely worried about the appointment and anxious about a lot of things—like escalators, thunder, and snakes—I suggested they bring a favorite game or toy or something he especially liked to do. (I reassured her that we had none of those things at my office.) I expected maybe a stuffed animal or some Lego. He showed up with a large notebook, filled with the most precise and detailed sketches of ceiling fans, table fans, air conditioners, and other cooling devices I have ever seen. He seemed very anxious and spoke very little, but he took out his pens and began to draw, and that helped him calm down. Amazing! This kid had real talent and maybe a brilliant future if he could acquire basic communication and social skills by being educated by teachers and therapists able to recognize his gifts while helping him overcome his deficits.
Then there was a girl I met with a few times a year, just for a check-in—or a “tune-up,” as we called them. After a 5-month gap, she showed up in my office, and the first thing she said was, “You were wearing that the last time I saw you. But you had different earrings. And you were getting over a cold.” Her memory was excellent—a great ability to develop and apply.
And then there was the high school sophomore, who was doing physics at the college graduate level. He often stood next to his desk and rocked back and forth while he solved problems. It helped him regulate. He always came up with the right answer. His teacher told me that if he were required to sit still and work at his desk, he would have to spend all his energy just trying to sit still, and he would not be able to do these very difficult problems. I expect to see his name on the list of Nobelists some day!
Empathy is choosing to see ourselves in another, despite our differences. It is recognizing that the same humanity, the same desire for meaning, fulfillment and security exists in each of us, even if it’s expressed uniquely.
—Vivek Murthy, Physician and former Surgeon General of the United States
I could go on, but here’s my point: look for the strengths. Look for every child and every adult’s unique qualities, skills, and talents. Acknowledge them. Help them harness them. Help their teachers and parents see them in a positive light; treat them with kindness and support them. Most importantly, ask them how you can make life easier, more comfortable, and more fun for them. They may have challenges and atypical characteristics and habits that are unfamiliar, puzzling, and even annoying. But every individual can make a contribution, sometimes a very important one, to their communities, their workplaces, and to society as a whole.
Not every individual who is neurodivergent has an unusual talent or ability. Probably most do not. But everyone can contribute. Everyone, from the very cognitively impaired or non-verbal child to the extremely dysregulated or high-strung adult, can make a difference. Approaching neurodivergence with curiosity and empathy, rather than suspicion and fear, is how we make that possible. When people feel understood, supported, appreciated, and accepted, they do their best work. It would be a very dull, stagnant world if we all saw and did the same things in the same way. It often takes time, patience, imagination, and compassion, but it is worth the effort to uncover the uniqueness of every person and share in a different way of experiencing the world.
Prepare to be amazed.
-
- The DSM, or Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, is published and updated every 5–10 years by the American Psychiatric Association. It is used by qualified medical and mental health professionals to diagnose mental health conditions and often informs treatment decisions and approaches. The current version is the DSM-5-TR, published in 2022. A new edition is due out around 2030.
- Estimates vary, but the World Health Organization reports that as many as one in three people worldwide can be classified as neurodivergent.
-
The views and opinions expressed here are solely those of the author and should not be attributed to Counslr, Inc., its partners, its employees, or any other mental health professionals Counslr employs. You should review this information and any questions regarding your specific circumstances with a medical professional. The content provided here is for informational and educational purposes only and should not be construed as counseling, therapy, or professional medical advice.
Note: Some of the details have been changed or eliminated in order to protect the identities of the individuals described.
If we cannot now end our differences, at least we can make the world safe for diversity.
—John F. Kennedy
In the behavioral health and educational fields, we spend a great deal of time trying to help neurodivergent people—those with autism, ADHD, dyslexia, and other differences in neurological functioning—to develop skills to succeed at home, school, and work. It’s time well spent. But why don’t we spend the same amount of time teaching neurotypical people about neurodiversity and how they can be more helpful? And why don’t we ask individuals with these challenges what they want from the rest of us—and how and what we need to learn?
Neurodivergence is not a DSM [1] diagnosis. It is a term for people whose brains work differently—such as those with autism, ADHD, and learning disabilities, like dyslexia. It includes people with some genetic conditions and developmental disabilities: those with Down syndrome, Williams syndrome, and various cognitive and sensory processing disorders. In short, neurodivergence includes anyone whose brain functions differently than the majority of people or develops in an atypical way. That includes about 15–20 percent of the human population! [2]Maybe someone you know—a friend, family member, or someone you work with—has one of these conditions, or you suspect they do. Statistically, it is likely! They are all unique diagnoses and have a range of symptoms and presentations. In fact, individuals with the same diagnosis may have very different profiles.
We can generalize about one thing, though: they all often face barriers at school and at work. They may face marginalization, social isolation, unrealistic expectations, stigma, and are often misunderstood. Yes, this is changing—but not fast enough.
Big Challenges, Bigger Strengths and Opportunities
My work used to involve spending a lot of time in school classrooms observing children and teenagers, either to inform a diagnostic evaluation or get a better idea of the supports and services that were helping or hindering them. Ultimately, my goal was to make recommendations that would contribute to greater success and satisfaction at school, at home, and in the community. Too many kids told me all too often, “School just isn’t fun.” Some out and out refused to go. Adults told me, “I hate my job. Nobody understands me.”
I was once observing a student at a middle school during a lesson on world geography. The teacher opened up a large, colorful map of the world in front of the class. In less than 30 seconds, before she had said a word, the student began to yell: “No! No! That’s wrong! Stop!” He got increasingly upset and would not stop yelling, despite the teacher’s best efforts. He became so disruptive that a classroom aide escorted him out of the class and to a quiet space.
I followed and asked if I might hang out with him for a while. First we chatted about some of his interests, like primatology (he was a fan of Jane Goodall) and French cooking—not your typical middle school boy interests! When we gradually got around to talking about what happened in the classroom, I asked him what was going on. He calmly responded, “Madagascar was missing.”
Madagascar. It’s an island nation off the coast of East Africa. I admit that I wouldn’t have known if it were missing or not, because I didn’t know where it was. If you know anything about it, it is probably the fact that there are a lot of lemurs there. Or maybe you saw the animated Disney movies of the early 2000s. This kid knew everything about the country, many other African countries, and lemurs (of course). Within seconds of seeing the map, he noticed Madagascar wasn’t there, and that was disturbing to him. But due to his condition—he had been diagnosed with high functioning autism, or what we used to call Asperger’s—he wasn’t able to express that in a “socially appropriate” way.
His teacher informed me that these outbursts happen often. He fixates on little details that “don’t matter,” which is upsetting to the rest of the class. Understandable. But what I thought was, “This is a guy who notices every detail. This is the guy I would want to troubleshoot the problem with the airplane I am about to board or read my MRI.” I saw his “problem” as an asset.
Another student, an 8 year old who rarely spoke (and when he did, only in simple two- and three- word sentences), arrived at my office with his mother for an initial meeting. Since she told me he was extremely worried about the appointment and anxious about a lot of things—like escalators, thunder, and snakes—I suggested they bring a favorite game or toy or something he especially liked to do. (I reassured her that we had none of those things at my office.) I expected maybe a stuffed animal or some Lego. He showed up with a large notebook, filled with the most precise and detailed sketches of ceiling fans, table fans, air conditioners, and other cooling devices I have ever seen. He seemed very anxious and spoke very little, but he took out his pens and began to draw, and that helped him calm down. Amazing! This kid had real talent and maybe a brilliant future if he could acquire basic communication and social skills by being educated by teachers and therapists able to recognize his gifts while helping him overcome his deficits.
Then there was a girl I met with a few times a year, just for a check-in—or a “tune-up,” as we called them. After a 5-month gap, she showed up in my office, and the first thing she said was, “You were wearing that the last time I saw you. But you had different earrings. And you were getting over a cold.” Her memory was excellent—a great ability to develop and apply.
And then there was the high school sophomore, who was doing physics at the college graduate level. He often stood next to his desk and rocked back and forth while he solved problems. It helped him regulate. He always came up with the right answer. His teacher told me that if he were required to sit still and work at his desk, he would have to spend all his energy just trying to sit still, and he would not be able to do these very difficult problems. I expect to see his name on the list of Nobelists some day!
Empathy is choosing to see ourselves in another, despite our differences. It is recognizing that the same humanity, the same desire for meaning, fulfillment and security exists in each of us, even if it’s expressed uniquely.
—Vivek Murthy, Physician and former Surgeon General of the United States
I could go on, but here’s my point: look for the strengths. Look for every child and every adult’s unique qualities, skills, and talents. Acknowledge them. Help them harness them. Help their teachers and parents see them in a positive light; treat them with kindness and support them. Most importantly, ask them how you can make life easier, more comfortable, and more fun for them. They may have challenges and atypical characteristics and habits that are unfamiliar, puzzling, and even annoying. But every individual can make a contribution, sometimes a very important one, to their communities, their workplaces, and to society as a whole.
Not every individual who is neurodivergent has an unusual talent or ability. Probably most do not. But everyone can contribute. Everyone, from the very cognitively impaired or non-verbal child to the extremely dysregulated or high-strung adult, can make a difference. Approaching neurodivergence with curiosity and empathy, rather than suspicion and fear, is how we make that possible. When people feel understood, supported, appreciated, and accepted, they do their best work. It would be a very dull, stagnant world if we all saw and did the same things in the same way. It often takes time, patience, imagination, and compassion, but it is worth the effort to uncover the uniqueness of every person and share in a different way of experiencing the world.
Prepare to be amazed.
-
- The DSM, or Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, is published and updated every 5–10 years by the American Psychiatric Association. It is used by qualified medical and mental health professionals to diagnose mental health conditions and often informs treatment decisions and approaches. The current version is the DSM-5-TR, published in 2022. A new edition is due out around 2030.
- Estimates vary, but the World Health Organization reports that as many as one in three people worldwide can be classified as neurodivergent.
-
The views and opinions expressed here are solely those of the author and should not be attributed to Counslr, Inc., its partners, its employees, or any other mental health professionals Counslr employs. You should review this information and any questions regarding your specific circumstances with a medical professional. The content provided here is for informational and educational purposes only and should not be construed as counseling, therapy, or professional medical advice.
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