9 minute read
Difference by Design
Increasing diagnoses of neurodivergence in children and adults in recent years has heightened societal awareness of neurodiversity. SALT explores how we—each created in the image of God—can embrace, understand and celebrate the unique ways our brains are designed with difference in mind.
WORDS Kelly Cooper
Experts estimate that up to 20 percent of New Zealand’s population are neurodivergent, with an additional 20 percent showing neurodivergent traits. According to the Neurodiversity in Education Coalition, as many as one in five young people are neurodivergent. These statistics represent a significant portion of our population, and raise important questions: What is neurodiversity? What does it mean to be neurodivergent? And how can we acknowledge and support neurodiversity in our schools, workplaces and communities?
Diverse language
The term ‘neurodiverse’, was first coined by sociologist Judy Singer in 1998 and was embraced by autism spectrum disorder (ASD) and attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) communities as an alternative to the diagnostic language previously used to describe brain differences. Although it has become part of our everyday language, confusion still surrounds its meaning and whom it represents.
Neurodiversity existed as a phenomenon long before humans began to name and categorise variations in the ways our brains work. Just as biodiversity encompasses the vast variety of plants, animals and microorganisms on earth, neurodiversity refers to the many kinds of different human minds and recognises that individual differences in how we process and interact with the world are both natural and beneficial.
Psychologist Anton Ashcroft further explains neurodiversity in this way: ‘There are eight billion people on this planet with eight billion different and unique brains. Everyone is neurodiverse. We all have our own unique traits, some of which are challenges for us, some of which are strengths for us.’
Although often used interchangeably, ‘neurodiverse’ and ‘neurodivergent’ do not have identical meanings. Neurodivergence is an umbrella term that refers to individuals whose neurological makeup and cognitive processes lead them to think, learn and behave in ways that differ from what is expected. This can include those with ASD, ADHD and specific learning difficulties (SLD)—including dyspraxia, dyscalculia, dysgraphia, giftedness, sensory processing disorder and many more. These individual conditions are often referred to as ‘neurotypes’.
Historically, neurodivergent conditions were pathologised and labelled as disorders. There is now a growing understanding that neurodivergence acknowledges differences, rather than deficits, and language is evolving to reflect this.
The term ‘neurotypical’ is used to refer to individuals who think, learn and behave in ways that are expected and that align with societal norms. Schools, churches and places of employment are typically designed to accommodate individuals fitting these norms. It is important to note that ‘neurotypical’ is not synonymous with ‘normal’. Neurotypical simply means that an individual’s behaviours fall within expected boundaries, which can differ from one culture to another. For instance, direct eye contact is considered rude in some cultures and expected in others.
Justine Munroe, CEO of Neurodiversity in Education Project, notes that the language neurodivergent individuals use to describe themselves is often complex and deeply personal. ‘In terms of using the “right” language, it’s all very new,’ she says. ‘People are experimenting and evolving their own language. It is important for us all to keep open and to keep listening, particularly to our young people.’
For many neurodivergent individuals, their neurotype (for example ASD or dyslexia) plays a central role in the formation of their identity. While two individuals may both share the same neurotype, this term only scratches the surface of the diverse ways they are created and experience the world. For some, embracing their neurotype not only provides a descriptor but also fosters connection and a sense of belonging with others with similar neurotypes.
Te reo Māori offers alternative language that perhaps more accurately captures the experiences of neurodivergent individuals. The te reo Māori word for ADHD is ‘aroreretini’, meaning ‘attention goes to many things’. ‘Takiwātanga’, the te reo Māori word for autism, translates as ‘in his/her/their own space and time’. Justine adds that regardless of the language we choose, ‘it is important for all individuals to have the opportunity to identify and express their identity in a way that feels good for them’.
Raising neurodivergent children
Parents of neurodivergent children often describe feeling misunderstood by others, alongside challenges in navigating the complex system of meetings, referrals and assessments. They also share the emotional strain and exhaustion that accompanies advocating and accessing support for their child.
In her podcast, ‘No Such Thing as Normal’, actor and presenter Sonia Gray explores the complex world of neurodiversity. Through an eight-year journey supporting her daughter, ‘to fit into a world that just did not work for her’, Sonia has become a staunch advocate for better understanding and acceptance of neurodiversity. Her daughter has been diagnosed with a range of conditions, including ADHD, ASD, obsessive compulsive disorder and oppositional defiant disorder.
Sonia candidly recounts the trauma she experienced as a parent when people told her she was making things up and others said she was a bad parent. She describes feeling very alone for many years. ‘It’s really damaging,’ she says. ‘I now know that I am not alone. There are thousands of whānau throughout Aotearoa struggling just like us.’
Fiona, a mother of a child who has ADHD and SLD, recounts a similar experience. ‘I was called in to school several times a week,’ says Fiona. ‘My child was labelled naughty and disruptive.’ It was suggested to Fiona that her son’s ‘problems’ were caused by her parenting. Fiona sought the advice of a psychologist who quickly identified deeper underlying issues. Subsequent assessments by a paediatrician led to her son receiving a diagnosis.
Fiona describes the journey to diagnose her son as exhausting. ‘It puts a real strain on your relationships. I felt very alone and needed someone to talk to. My best advice for other parents is to join a support group and find another parent who is further along the journey than you.’
A strengths-based approach
Maria, a Year 12 student in Tāmaki Makaurau Auckland, was diagnosed with giftedness at age four and high-functioning autism when she was seven. She describes feeling unsupported and misunderstood by the education system as a neurodivergent learner. ‘There are a lot of misconceptions about neurodivergence. Neurodivergent learners are often told they are lazy, that they’re not trying hard enough and that they are behaving badly on purpose. Our neurodivergence isn’t someone’s fault. It should be something that can exist in our world without being understood as disadvantage,’ shares Maria.
As a Young Neurodiversity Champion, Maria is on a mission to highlight the diverse educational needs of neurodivergent learners. She aspires to study law and to become New Zealand’s Minister for Education, to ensure that all students have an education system that affirms and understands them. ‘I understand that it is hard to grow up in a world that’s not designed inclusively for neurodivergent learners, but we have wonderful advantages in the ways our minds work. We need to remember this because this is how we can succeed in our own lives,’ says Maria.
Alex Campbell, an ADHD coach, echoes Maria’s sentiment and favours a strengths-based approach when working with his neurodivergent clients. As one of the first children to be diagnosed with ADHD in the United Kingdom in the early 1990s, Alex was all too aware of the ‘try harder, do more, be better’ message he received as a child. ‘It’s exhausting to keep hearing this and it never works,’ he shares. ‘When we flip what is perceived as a deficit on its head our brains light up like a Christmas tree. To be neurodivergent is to be brilliant. The more we start to spot brilliance and empower neurodivergent children the better,’ he says.
A Year 6 student who has ADHD, also called Alex, says a focus on his unique abilities and talents has been pivotal. Prior to his diagnosis, school was a challenging environment. He became withdrawn and disengaged. Now in his final year of primary school, Alex is thriving. His diagnosis helped him to understand his strengths and the areas that present challenges for him. ‘I am good at seeing things from different perspectives and practical tasks. When my dad talks to me about technical things, my brain just knows what he’s talking about,’ shares Alex.
Thriving as a neurodiverse adult
Dr Dougal Sutherland is a registered clinical psychologist and chief executive officer of Umbrella Wellbeing, an organisation that provides workplace wellbeing and psychological services to businesses. He has observed an increase in the number of adults seeking assessment and diagnosis in the last five to eight years. ‘People certainly have a greater awareness of neurodiversity. Adults often come to us after their children have been diagnosed and say, “oh, that reminds me of me”,’ he says.
When Sonia Gray received her own ADHD diagnosis in her mid-forties, it came as a shock. ‘I had no idea I had ADHD. I just thought I was a bit useless at a lot of stuff that other people could do quite easily,’ explains Sonia. Matthew, a father of a child with ADHD, had a similar experience. ‘I was surprised to read my son’s report and discover it described my own school experiences,’ he says.
Employers frequently approach Umbrella Wellbeing with questions about neurodiversity, such as how to start conversations with employees and how best to support neurodivergent staff. Dougal suggests beginning with awareness and implementing strategies like creating low-stimulus environments, breaking projects into smaller tasks, setting clear boundaries and deadlines, and offering flexibility in work hours and locations. He warns against making value judgments about neurodivergent employees and advocates for understanding of differences and maximising individual strengths.
Favouring a strengths-based approach to understanding neurodiversity not only creates inclusive communities, it also enables us to embrace the myriad ways we are each designed with difference in mind.
There is a richness and diversity that neurodivergence can bring to societies; a way of looking at our world that may differ from perceived norms. As we embrace differences in our families, workplaces and communities we invite often marginalised people to add their unique perspectives and insights to the conversations and we are richer for this.
