Neurodiversity: the New Normal

Diversity is an accepted and expected part of life in 21st-century Britain. We are all aware, for example, of gender diversity or cultural diversity. The concept of neurodiversity, however, is not yet viewed in the same way, writes Vicky H. Bourne...

As a young adult receiving a diagnosis of Asperger syndrome I was initially delighted. For the first time in my life I had a reason and explanation for my differences. All of my previous difficulties, misunderstandings and mistakes now made sense. I liken it to reading a detective novel where you discover ‘whodunnit’ on the final page. Rereading the book, you find the clues were already there in plain sight; you were simply looking at the story from the wrong angle.

Neurodiversity
There is a range, or diversity, of ways in which human brains think, learn, process information and relate simply social constructs, reflecting nothing more than what society considers to be normal or acceptable at any to others. No one way is seen as superior to any other.

Getting a ‘label’ led me to self-understanding and self-compassion. I had spent most of my youth unhappily wanting to be ‘normal’, believing I wasn’t trying hard enough or was in some way inferior to everybody else. Now I realised my brain was wired differently and I had been coping in a society not designed for me. 

The diagnosis was hugely beneficial for my wellbeing. Working as a teacher, I decided to specialise in special educational needs and began to advocate for better diagnosis and identification of other young people on the autism spectrum in particular.

Normal is a social construct
Over the next few years, however, my thinking changed quite dramatically. As I became more aware of my strengths, difficulties and differences, I realised in fact that labels such as Asperger’s are simply social constructs, reflecting nothing more than what society considers to be normal or acceptable at any given time. Take, for example, a person with dyslexia. If she lived in a culture without a written form of language, would she ever be identified and labelled as having a disability? Similarly, consider children with attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD). If these young people were growing up in a society without a formal education system, would they be diagnosed as having a ‘deficit’ or ‘disorder’? In a society that did not require sitting still all day, active young people with limitless energy and good practical skills would be highly valued and appreciated, not viewed as problematic!

Lack of recognition
Society does not yet acknowledge that neurodiversity is a normal and totally expected aspect of human variation. This lack of acceptance is particularly evident in the education system, where I was working until recently as an advisory teacher for special educational needs. As educators we can be quick to identify children who are somehow ‘different’; we diagnose with labels such as autism, Asperger’s, dyslexia, dyspraxia or ADHD, to name just a few. Our education, health and social care systems use the medical model of disability, labelling with ‘disorders’ or ‘deficits’, and so placing the blame firmly within individuals, suggesting that there is something to be cured, treated, ameliorated or accommodated. This very act of labelling marginalises, implying that there is something wrong with the individuals in question. 

This prevailing point of view, however, fails to accept that environments and attitudes usually play the biggest part in ‘disabling’ some groups. Many existing policies and practices have been designed only for the ‘neurotypical’ style of thinking of the majority, and not for the neurodiverse population we are.

Time to change
On my personal journey I was becoming increasingly mindful, more self-aware and better focused on living life according to my own values, not those imposed on me by others. I was realising that people often don’t like individuals who appear different or do not follow the unwritten social agreement of normality. Let me give an example. I, like many others, am an introvert – happy in my own company, disliking too much social interaction and needing considerable ‘alone’ time. (Having Asperger’s means there are additional difficulties with social interaction and processing information, but let’s consider just being introverted for now.) When I was younger this seemed to be a huge problem for family members, peers and, later, colleagues. “Why are you sitting by yourself at lunchtime? Come over and join us. Come on!” I’d politely thank them and explain I was happy by myself, but this was never really accepted. There would be whispering, odd glances, people assuming I didn’t like them. I was blamed for being aloof, or not wanting to be part of the team. It seemed to really bother people. I didn’t understand why; I was happy and I wasn’t stopping others doing what they wanted. Ruth Rendell once wrote: “Selfishness is not doing what you want, but forcing everybody else to do what you want.” Others believed I was being selfish; I felt that they were the selfish ones.

Schools in particular often insist on conformity and can be quick to compare young people to their peers, rather than recognising individuality. Targets set often relate to young people acting, behaving, thinking or learning in a way that is expected or typical for their peer group. Parents too can fall into the trap of believing there is something wrong with their child. The media doesn’t help, reflecting predominantly neurotypical norms, suggesting there is one ‘right’ way to be. The impact of this on young people can be immense: many grow up with incredibly low self-esteem and self-belief.

Changing values
Eventually I had to leave the education system. Although I had worked with some inspiring individuals, I could no longer work in institutions that more often than not try to fit square pegs into round holes rather than embrace individuality and diversity. I was uncomfortable working in a system that needs labels and diagnoses to obtain funding, resources and support. I could no longer sit in meetings discussing what was ‘wrong’ with children, when what was ‘wrong’ was simply society’s narrow view of normal. It is perhaps ironic that receiving a label was so pivotal in my own journey to self-acceptance, as I know it is for many others too. Looking back at my own past, however, and thinking of the many young people I have worked with, I see many wasted years of self-doubt, insecurity, loneliness, depression, anxiety and needless worry. 

How much better would it be to grow up in a world that simply accepts you for being you from the very beginning? In my research with a range of neurodivergent individuals, the same wish is expressed time after time: “Just accept us for who we are and make our preferences as normal as anybody else’s.” It’s a quote I use a lot when delivering training – just make it normal to be different.

A neurodiverse population? 

• • 10% of the UK population is dyslexic (BDA).
  • 7% of children have a developmental language disorder (TCT).
  • 5% of the population are thought to have dyscalculia (BDA). 
  • 3% of adults could be affected by developmental coordination disorder/ dyspraxia (BDA).
  • 2–5% of school-age children have been diagnosed with ADHD (NHS).
  • 1.1% of the population could be on the autism spectrum (NAS). These figures do not take into account incidences of comorbidity.

 

A paradigm shift
I firmly believe we need to see a paradigm shift in education, health and culture towards a society that anticipates and expects neurodiversity, emphasising that no one way of functioning is superior to any other. 

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Published in issue 54. Accurate at the time this issue went to print.