Author: typicallyadmin

Categories
Children's Materials

Kids’ Guide: What Is Neurodiversity?

Menu

Kids' Guide: What Is Neurodiversity?

Neurodiversity: it’s kind of a fancy word, isn’t it? Well, the meaning of this word is simple: Neurodiversity refers to the fact that every brain in the world is unique, and no brain is better or worse than another.  

But first, what is the brain? The brain is the organ that makes sense of the world around you and tells your body what to do. Every time you think, speak, listen to music, walk or run (you name it!), guess what is helping make it happen? If your answer was the squishy, three-pound organ inside your skull (aka, the brain), you’re right! Your brain and body work together every single day, all day long, to help you do all the things you do—even things you can’t control, like digesting your food!

And what do we mean when we say every brain is “unique”? Every brain works in its own specific ways, and every brain has its own set of strengths and weaknesses. However, most brains also have things in common with each other. For example, most kids have brains that allow them to read, write and do math by a certain age. Most kids’ brains also enable them to communicate, interact and play with peers. Kids with this type of brain are called “neurotypical.” 

There are some brains that are even more unique than neurotypical brains: They are called “neurodivergent.” Kids with neurodivergent brains learn and experience the world differently than neurotypical kids. Because of that, they sometimes need extra help and support at school, which is called “accommodations.” But just because neurodivergent kids might need accommodations, it doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with their brains.   

Let’s look at what all this means. 

Jack, a third grader, is great at memorizing sports trivia and is a master Lego builder. However, reading is difficult for him. He often needs to re-read a paragraph a few times to understand what it says. He confuses letters that look similar, like b and d, or letters that sound similar, like d and t. Because of these difficulties, he needs more time than his classmates to complete his schoolwork. Sometimes the teacher lets him listen to reading assignments on the computer and gives him visual aids (like drawings) to help him understand the text. She also gives him reading guides and highlights important words and passages. With the help of these accommodations, Jack can do his schoolwork and learn right alongside his peers.   

Luna, a fourth grader, is an avid reader but needs help with math. She often confuses symbols like the plus, minus, multiplication and division signs. She can’t do mental math and needs to use her fingers to count. The teacher helps Luna by highlighting and circling important words, signs and numbers on her math worksheets. She also gives Luna charts with math facts and multiplication tables. Like Jack, Luna needs more time than her classmates to finish quizzes and tests. 

 

Hazel is a third grader who loves reading fantasy books and historical fiction. She enjoys going to school and learning new things, but sometimes has a tough time working in groups. Whenever things get loud in the classroom, Hazel can get a little upset. The teacher helps by providing noise cancelling headphones during noisy activities and by letting her take quizzes and tests in an empty classroom. Although Hazel knows many words and can read and write well, sometimes she has a tough time communicating with peers. During recess, she needs time alone to decompress and get her brain ready for learning again. 

Felix is a talkative and energetic third grader. He likes all subjects, especially science and math, but it is difficult for him to sit still and do schoolwork for too long. That is because Felix’s body needs frequent movement breaks for his brain to “calm down” and focus. So, whenever he starts feeling “twitchy,” Felix lets his teacher know, and she helps him pick a calming strategy. Some of his strategies include using a fidget (like a spinner or a squeeze ball), doing wall pushups or sitting on a therapy ball instead of a regular chair. 

Do you know a kid who is a little bit like Jack, Luna, Hazel or Felix?  Lots of people do!  Do you sometimes feel like at least one of them? Well, that is totally normal—to be different is a natural part of being human.

 Doctors and scientists have been studying the brain for a long time. Now, we know that many people who are neurodivergent also have things they can do well and without help. What’s more, we can make things easier for people whose brains or bodies work differently by making simple changes to our environment. For example, if a kid has a tough time staying focused in the classroom, we can have her sit up front, close to the teacher, or try one of Felix’s calming strategies. If a student can’t write or draw with a pencil, he or she can use a computer to type and complete classroom assignments. If a kid needs a wheelchair to move around, we can make sure the school property has ramps and elevators. 

Some neurodivergent kids have brains that are so unique they require even more accommodations than Felix, Jack, or any of the kids we described. Some of them communicate differently and don’t use words the way neurotypical kids do. Others learn things at a slower pace and need different teaching strategies to understand the material. Many neurodivergent students need an aide to help them during the school day. And there are those who do much better in classrooms that are specially designed with their needs in mind, with teachers who are trained to teach students who learn differently. Sometimes, neurodivergent kids need to attend schools that were specifically created for students with learning differences.  

On the other hand, there are kids whose brains are so unusual, they can learn things extremely quickly—much quicker than kids their age and even some adults. Have you ever seen news stories about kids who graduate from high school at the age of 9 and start college before they are even 10 years old? Well, that’s a neurodivergent kid for you! 

So, why is it important to know that there are different types of brains in the world? Well, for one thing, because YOU have a brain! If you feel like you learn differently and would do better at school with more support, it would be helpful to talk with an adult about it. If you know someone who is neurodivergent, it’s important to understand that his or her differences are not problems. We all have unique brains and different ways of learning and experiencing things. And that makes life all the more exciting! 

 Questions 

  1. Some brains are good at memorizing things. Other brains are good at imagining and creating stories or paintings. Some brains are good at figuring out and understanding what people are feeling. Other brains are great at understanding math or working with computers. What are some of the things your brain is good at? 
  2. Most brains have a thing or two (or three, or more!) that are tough for them to do. Jack is great at memorizing sports trivia, but reading is difficult for him. Luna is an avid reader but struggles with math. What are some things that are hard for you? 
  3. What does it mean to have a “neurotypical” brain? 
  4. What does it mean to have a “neurodivergent” brain? 
  5. Sometimes, a neurodivergent kid can have a tough time doing certain things, such as staying focused in the classroom. What are some accommodations a neurodivergent student can get at school? 
  6. Being neurodivergent can also mean having unusual abilities, such as learning how to read at the age of 3, for example. Can you think of other similar examples? 
  7. Do you know someone who is neurodivergent? Now that you have this knowledge, do you feel like you understand them a little better? 

 

 

Embracing Difference

One of the most empowering insights I’ve reached as a special needs parent was the realization that differences in brain function are natural, ever-present aspects of the human experience. They are as old as humanity itself.

It took me a while to embrace this view, partly because my neurodiverse child’s struggles—such as her social communication difficulties and motor clumsiness—are undeniably and inextricably tied to her neurodiversity. But eventually I came to view her difference for what it is: her unique way of filtering and processing information, communicating her impressions, and functioning in this world.

© Suri Pacinelli

Categories
Parent's Perspective

My Anxiety, Your Anxiety: Handling Emotional Contagion

Menu

My Anxiety, Your Anxiety: Handling Emotional Contagion

I’ve recently found myself wondering: Is my anxiety making my child anxious? Or am I anxious because I have such an anxious child?

This chicken-or-the-egg paradox is not easy to entertain. But establishing causality might not be as important as recognizing the emotional feedback loop that is typical of most parent-child relationships, particularly when emotions as “catchy” as anxiety are involved.

Emotions can be as contagious as the flu. Those of us who are more sensitive know this intuitively. This idea has been substantiated by scientific studies that pinpointed some of the brain mechanisms involved in “emotional contagion,” or the process where people subconsciously adopt the emotions and behaviors of others.

Turns out we’re wired to mimic other people’s nonverbal communication—such as facial expressions, gestures, and tone of voice—and this mimicking process allows us to mirror their emotions. Research has shown that when we observe another person’s actions or emotions, the neurons that get activated in our brain are the same ones that fire up when we perform that action or feel that emotion ourselves. These neurons, dubbed “mirror neurons,” are thought to play an important role in emotional contagion.

But despite what we know about the communicability of emotions, parents of children with anxiety disorders are very rarely reminded that they themselves are part of a complicated interactional equation and are often incentivized to approach their kids’ condition as the only problem that requires “fixing.”

In my discussions with pediatric specialists over the years, I was told anxiety disorders often co-occur with autism, ADHD, intellectual and learning disabilities, and other developmental conditions. But frequently missing from the discussion were two important facts. One was that 30 percent of adults experience an anxiety disorder at some point in their lives. And the other was that, as the mother of a child with special needs, I would be even more likely to experience an anxiety disorder myself.

What also went unsaid was that, in a family ecosystem, it’s hard to fix one person’s problem without addressing another’s. Which is to say that much of the time and effort I put into helping my anxious child would have been better spent if I had addressed my own excessive worries as well.

In fairness, some specialists make family therapy a central aspect of their practice and do a fantastic job at it. But until the emotionally contagious nature of anxiety in parent-child relationships is universally recognized and acknowledged, parents might find themselves in a circular chain of events, anxiously trying to help their anxious child and getting nowhere fast.

Even when parents aren’t diagnosed with an anxiety disorder, odds are they feel apprehensive about their special needs child’s differences, vulnerabilities, and in the case of medically fragile children, their health. And whether these fears and concerns are spoken out loud or not, the child subconsciously (or maybe consciously) picks up her parents’ feelings. Research on emotional contagion has shown what many of us already know: Even when people try to suppress their emotions, others can still sense them with the help of nonverbal cues such as micro-expressions, tone of voice, and posture.

It wasn’t until recently that I realized how the above dynamic was affecting my interactions with my special needs child. It all came to a head during one of my daughter’s exposure therapy sessions.

As is customary in this type of therapy, a psychologist devised a plan to gradually expose my child to the things she fears most in a protected environment, to make her incrementally more capable of managing her phobias. An example of an exposure therapy exercise would be having someone with arachnophobia handle a sealed glass jar with a small spider inside it. Another example might involve having someone with social anxiety make a speech in front of a large group.

This therapy session took place at my house, with the psychologist present. Without going into details, I can say that my daughter was visibly triggered by the exercise, and my role throughout the process was to calmly guide and support her. I tried to do so by cheering her on and saying things like “you’re safe,” “you can do this,” and a few other platitudes that came to mind. I thought I was doing a decent job, not realizing there was a disconnect between my words and nonverbal communication.

When my daughter left the living room to do an exposure exercise in our backyard the therapist looked at me and said, “You seem anxious right now. Do you want to talk about it before she returns?”

I didn’t expect my child’s therapist to flip the script. But what surprised me even more was the fact that I didn’t realize I was anxious, likely because my focus was on my daughter’s struggles at that moment. And that made me wonder, how often am I anxious and not realize it? How often am I trying to manage my daughter’s anxiety while simultaneously neglecting my own, in a classic case of the blind leading the blind?

Odds are, the answer is “often.” And come to think of it, how could I not?

Since my daughter’s complicated arrival into the world, I was told she would need the help of multiple therapies to thrive and keep up with peers. From her time in the NICU all the way to middle school, she has been followed by specialists and attended regular physical, occupational, and speech therapy. She has also received several educational accommodations for attentional, visual spatial, motor, and coordination challenges. In some ways, because of all the attention her developmental differences require, I’ve been conditioned to worry about her.

Ironically, as soon as she developed some self-awareness and started worrying about her ability to handle the world’s pressures, I felt as though my “job” was to provide her with constant reassurances that she “need not worry.” Little did I realize that those verbal reassurances might have caused even more confusion.

Given what we know about emotional contagion—and the fact that much of the transmission, interpretation, and assimilation of emotions happen at the subconscious level—my message to my daughter was at the very least contradictory. I found myself telling her that she should “be strong” and “not worry.” But my subconscious message was: “You are fragile, and I need to take extra care of you.”

This dynamic is not unusual among special needs parents and their children. It’s a situation with no simple fix and, admittedly, I’m right in the thick of it. But here’s what I’ve learned so far:

Self-awareness is key. You can’t help a person with an anxiety disorder if you can’t recognize the physical and emotional manifestations of anxiety within yourself. Unfortunately, many parents have gotten used to an underlying feeling of anxiety and associate that emotional state with just what “it’s like to be a parent.” Try not to brush these worrisome feelings aside: Stop, pay attention to what’s going on within you, and label your emotions. Once you become more self-aware, you’ll be in a better position to manage your anxiety and help your child with hers.

Develop coping strategies. Part of your game plan might involve simply pausing and taking a deep breath, then recognizing and labeling your feelings. Some people find that it helps to have a “conversation” with their anxiety, along the lines of: “Hey friend. I see you’re here again trying to protect me from life’s unforeseen dangers. I’m okay now and I can handle this situation without you. Buh-bye.” You don’t have to be so literal in your approach—find what works for you.

Model your coping strategies to your child in real-time. If anxiety hits you when your child is nearby, try describing to her what’s happening to you, including your emotional and physical sensations. Then tell her how you’re handling your tricky emotions: “Now, I’m taking very deep, slow breaths so I can feel calmer.” When you are transparent in your vulnerability, you allow your child to know that it’s okay to feel anxious or afraid. And by sharing your coping strategies, you’re showing her that anxiety can be managed. Since you’re the one struggling at that moment, your child will be more receptive to learning than during her own crisis situations.

When your child is anxious, try to co-regulate with her. This is a key part of the process given the contagiousness of emotions. Respond to your child’s anxiety with as much awareness and calmness as you can muster. Stop what you’re doing and give her your entire focus. You can try several different techniques: Hold your child’s hands—you can both be standing or sitting down facing each other—and encourage her to slow down her breathing. As her breathing decelerates, try to synchronize your breaths. Another option, if you’re indoors, is to go outside for some fresh air and a quick walk. But if going outside isn’t an option, try walking together in circles in your own living room until your kid’s emotions stabilize. A third, simple technique, is simply going into a relaxing yoga pose (such as child’s pose) together.

After you co-regulate, help your child identify the emotions she was feeling—then validate them. It takes emotional intelligence to effectively identify and manage your own emotions. And developing emotional intelligence starts with observing how you feel and paying attention to how you behave. Once your child starts getting better at pinning down her feelings, make sure she understands that it’s okay to feel the so-called “negative” emotions, including anxiety. The point is not to judge or repress these feelings but to acknowledge and learn how to regulate them.

Try using some of your coping strategies to help your child—or help her create one of her own. If you like “talking” with your anxiety, teach your kid how to do it. Ditto for anything else that you find helpful. After the situation settles down and your child is calmer, brainstorm and explore solutions together. Did the coping strategy you tried work well? Are there other things you could do next time anxiety strikes? Let your child feel like an active participant in the management of her anxiety—not a helpless receiver of your help.

Think of it as a lifelong process. Uncomfortable feelings are part of the human experience. Anxiety has an important function—it can help us be aware and act in the face of problems—and it’s bound to pop up occasionally, sometimes for good reasons. But every so often there’s a disconnect between your perceived level of threat and your situation. The more you and your child practice recognizing your emotions, the better you’ll become at noticing overreactions.

Anxiety management is a lifelong process, and I’m walking this windy path with my child right now. Sometimes it feels like we’re stuck in the same place, gazing at repetitive vistas. But I know we’re accumulating small victories and learning new things along the way. One victory I’m looking forward to is when she develops a coping strategy of her own. Another will be when she catches me needing to calm down and offers to co-regulate. When that happens, I’ll know we have it made.

Categories
Children's Materials

The Special Leaves

Menu

Value content

THE SPECIAL LEAVES

 

It’s time for outdoor recess and the day is about as perfect as can be: The sky is clear, the air is crisp, and the school playground is covered with crunchy leaves. 

Crunch, crunch, crunch, crunch, crunch. 

“What’s that sound?” Tom, a fourth grader with delicate limbs and thick eyebrows, wonders to himself. He glances around the playground and quickly spots a group of kids stomping on the fallen leaves. 

Crunch, crunch, crunch, crunch, crunch. 

The kids seem to enjoy that crackling sound and are jumping around excitedly, as if those helpless leaves were leftover bubble wrap or the latest “pop it” toy.  

But Tom is not enjoying himself at all. He cringes in agony and covers his ears. He needs to find a quiet place fast.  

Before scanning the space around him for a peaceful spot, Tom pulls a pair of sunglasses from his jacket pocket. It’s a bright day, and he is glad he didn’t forget his sunglasses at home. He puts them on, looks around, and eventually finds a large, lonely tree on the edge of the playground. He starts walking in that direction.  

Crunch, crunch, crunch, crunch, crunch. Tom steps on the ground gingerly, but the leaves crumble under his black sneakers. He cringes again.  

When he gets closer to the tree, Tom kneels to inspect the leaves on the ground. He notices some of them are a different combination of yellow, orange, and red. 

“Wow,” he says. “These leaves are awesome. I’ll start a collection!”   

It takes him several minutes to gather a collection of what he thinks are the coolest leaves ever. He is beaming proudly and is ready to put them in his pocket, when he hears rustling behind him.   

“Jump!” someone yells. 

Startled, Tom drops his new leaves then turns around to face Brooke, one of his classmates. She is jumping in a nearby leaf pile like a mad kangaroo, her flushed face framed by bouncy brown curls. Brooke is wearing a sleeveless cotton dress with patch pockets and doesn’t seem bothered by the cool temperature. 

“Jump, Tom, jump!”  

Brooke runs toward Tom and grabs his pale hands. She notices his sunglasses and tries to snatch them, but Tom swiftly waves her hand away. 

“Stop it, Brooke. You just ruined my game!”   

Brooke gives Tom a puzzled look and takes a few steps back. She walks back to the same leaf pile and starts loading her arms, then throws the colorful foliage high up in the air.  

“Yaaaay,” she shouts, as she swirls herself around with her eyes tightly closed. The leaves rain down upon Brooke’s head, and some get stuck in her curls. She looks like a wild forest princess. 

Tom is about to get away from Brooke when he spots Mrs. Goodwill walking toward them. Mrs. Goodwill is an aide who stays with Brooke most of the school day to help with activities and assignments. She has a worried look on her face and is holding Brooke’s sweater.   

“Mrs. Goodwill,” Tom says. “Brooke just made me drop my special leaves. Now they are mixed with the others on the ground, and I can’t find them.” 

“Brooke,” Mrs. Goodwill says. “Did you hear Tom? I think we should help him find his leaves. What do you think?” 

Brooke looks at Mrs. Goodwill quietly and seems to hesitate for a moment. She then looks away and starts bouncing in the leaves again.  

“Brooke, can you help Tom find his leaves?” Mrs. Goodwill insists.  

But before Brooke can respond, Tom covers his ears and takes off.   

“Brooke ruined everything,” he mutters. “Why is she always so hyper?”  

Tom is not happy at all: this is the second time he has to change spots in the playground. He is walking fast, and with each step he takes he feels the leaves on the ground crumble into a thousand tiny pieces.  

Crunch, crunch, crunch, crunch, crunch.  

“Ugh,” he blurts out.  

He needs a calming strategy quickly.  Just then, he spots the playground xylophone and notices no one is using it. He runs toward it. 

Tom has a piano at home, and he likes to play it to soothe himself after a rough day. This is the perfect opportunity to do the same thing at school. He stands in front of the xylophone for a moment, grabs the mallets, and starts playing a classical tune.  

“Aah,” Tom exhales. It doesn’t take long for his entire body to relax. The pretty melody coming from the xylophone muffles all the noise around him, making him forget how upset he was a minute ago. Of all the sounds in the world, classical music is his favorite by far.  

Meanwhile, in a different area of the playground, Brooke has found her way to a spinning seat. Mrs. Goodwill patiently looks on as the fourth-grader whirls nonstop for nearly a minute. 

When the seat stops turning, Brooke decides the fun must continue, so she makes it go in the opposite direction. She does this again, and again, and again. Spinning helps her body calm down and makes it easier for her to focus on schoolwork. Jumping and climbing help, too, so Mrs. Goodwill always makes sure Brooke gets plenty of movement during recess.  

“Do you think you’re done now, Brooke?” Mrs. Goodwill asks after the spinning stops completely. “Maybe you can put on your sweater now. It’s a bit chilly.”  

Brooke refuses the sweater and jumps off the seat. She kneels and starts going through the multicolored leaves on the ground, picking out and discarding a few until eventually settling on three of them. She tucks the chosen ones in her dress pocket.  

“These are pretty leaves, aren’t they?” Mrs. Goodwill asks. “You’ve got some good ones there.” 

But Brooke doesn’t answer. She just heard a lively tune coming from the playground xylophone and is now running toward it. Next thing you know, she is standing next to Tom with a wide smile on her face. Tom looks at Brooke sideways and lets out an annoyed sigh.  

“There she is again,” he thinks to himself. “I’m not letting her ruin my fun this time.”  

Tom continues playing the xylophone, pretending Brooke isn’t there. She raises her arms above her head and starts practicing a few dance moves. She bends her knees, lifts one leg off the floor, and jumps from one foot to the other. She looks way more graceful than a mad kangaroo this time.  

Mrs. Goodwill watches it all with a smile, then glances at her watch.  

“Okay, Tom and Brooke, it’s time to go back to the classroom,” she says. “Good job playing together just now!” 

Tom looks in Brooke’ direction and notices that she’s reaching for something in her pocket. She finally removes three leaves and hands them to him. He smiles.  

“Cool!” he says. “Did you notice that this leaf is mostly yellow, with a few red patches?” 

Brooke looks at the leaf and nods. 

“And this leaf right here is the opposite,” he adds. “It’s mostly red with a few yellow patches.” 

Tom goes on to look over the third leaf and Brooke skips away toward the school building. Mrs. Goodwill tries to get Brooke’s attention.  

“Hey Brooke, did you remember to use your words to apologize to Tom for upsetting him earlier?” 

“It’s fine, Mrs. Goodwill,” Tom responds. “I know she didn’t mean to.”   

 He looks at his new leaves and smiles. 

“Plus, come to think of it, these leaves are just as special as the ones I lost.” 

Discussion

  1. Can you describe some of the ways in which Tom and Brooke are different from each other?  
  2. Does Tom use words to express his thoughts and feelings? Does Brooke do the same? 
  3. What are some of the things that are bothering Tom today? 
  4. Why does he put on sunglasses early in the story? 
  5. Does he find a solution for his problem(s)? 
  6. Brooke needs a lot of movement to help her focus and get her brain ready for learning. What are some of the things that she does during recess that help her when she goes back to the classroom? 
  7. Do you sometimes feel like you need a calming strategy? What are some of the things you do whenever you feel distracted, uncomfortable, twitchy, or anxious? 

Going in Depth

Our eyes, ears, nose, tongue, and skin are always feeding our brain with information. The brain then makes sense of it all and responds appropriately. 

Some people’s brains get easily overwhelmed by the information coming from the senses. When that happens, a person might be bothered by things such as bright lights, loud noises, strong smells, certain food textures, and some types of movement.  

The opposite can also happen: the brain might have a tough time receiving, interpreting, and responding to information coming from the senses, so it needs even more information—more movement, physical touch, lively sounds, stimulating lights and colors, exciting smells and tastes—to “feel” the world around it and to stay calm and alert.  

As we can see in the story, Tom’s brain gets overwhelmed by bright lights and loud noises. He calms himself down by playing classical music on the xylophone. Brooke, on the other hand, needs a lot of movement—jumping, spinning, and climbing—in order to get her brain alert and ready for learning. Unlike Tom, she is not bothered by loud noises or bright lights. 

These are just two examples of how different brains might interpret and react to the world around them. Can you think of other examples? Do you ever feel overwhelmed in a very crowded or loud place? Do you ever feel like you need some movement after sitting down for a long time? Tell us! 

 

Categories
Children's Materials

My Twin Sister, Emma

Menu

Value content

MY TWIN SISTER, EMMA

Emma's drawing

My twin sister, Emma, and I are the best of friends. But even though we look so much alike, we are actually quite different. I am a real chatterbox and can strike up a conversation with just about anybody. People call me “Chatty Addie.” Emma, on the other hand, is very quiet, and when she does talk, she has a tough time getting her words out.  

Sometimes, Emma sounds like this: “Um…Addie! Um…let’s go…outside!” She uses a lot of “ums” when she speaks, did you notice? That’s because she needs more time than most kids to put her words together. I’m used to the way she speaks, but sometimes people get impatient if she takes too long to explain what she is thinking. Do you ever have a hard time finding the “right” words to say? Then you might know how Emma feels.  

Because speaking is tough for her, Emma prefers using short sentences. If you ask her a “yes or no” question, chances are she will probably just say “yes” or “no,” and then stop talking. You might need to ask her more questions to get her to chat more. 

Even though my sister is quiet, we play really well together. When we were younger and Emma could not say many words, she would point to a toy or game and say, “play, play, play!” Sometimes, she just wanted “quiet play.”  Emma would smile as we played with Legos or board games, and I could tell she was happy. Other times, we did lots of “loud play”: singing, running around, and dancing up a storm. Emma is one of the best dancers I know.

MY TWIN SISTER, EMMA

My twin sister, Emma, and I are the best of friends. But even though we look so much alike, we are actually quite different! I am a real chatterbox and can strike up a conversation with just about anybody. People call me “Chatty Addie.” Emma, on the other hand, is very quiet, and when she does talk, she has a tough time getting her words out.  

Sometimes, Emma sounds like this: “Um…Addie! Um…let’s go…outside!” She uses a lot of “ums” and she often pauses when she speaks, did you notice?  That’s because she needs more time than most kids to put her words together. I’m used to the way she speaks, but sometimes people get impatient when she takes too long to express her thoughts. Do you ever have a hard time finding the “right” words to say? Then you might know how Emma feels.  

Because speaking is tough for her, Emma prefers using short sentences. If you ask her a “yes or no” question, chances are she will just say “yes” or “no,” and then stop talking. You might need to ask her more questions to get her to chat more. 

But even though my sister is quiet, we play really well together. When we were younger and Emma could not say many words, she would point to a toy or game and say, “play, play, play!” Sometimes, she just wanted “quiet play.” Emma would smile as we played with Legos or board games, and I could tell she was happy. Other times, we did lots of “loud play”: singing, running around, and dancing up a storm. Emma is one of the best dancers I know! 

Emma's drawing

Do you know what else Emma does well? She can draw almost anything you ask: dragons, unicorns, robots—you name it! One day after school, when Emma was sad and didn’t feel like talking, she made a drawing of herself and one of her friends. My mom looked at the drawing and said, “Sometimes a picture is worth a thousand words.” Well, I know what my mom meant! After looking at Emma’s detailed drawing, I could tell that she and her friend had had an argument that day. Emma didn’t have to say anything—her drawing said it all. 

And speaking of arguments: of course, things are not always perfect between Emma and me! There are times when our games do not work at all, and I get really frustrated. A couple of years ago, when we were seven years old and were playing the “Guess Who” board game, Emma could not come up with questions on her own—which is the whole point of the game! I had to tell her what questions to ask me, which made it really boring. So, I lost my patience and stormed out of the playroom. Then I found my mom in the kitchen. 

“Mom, how come Emma can’t talk like me?” I asked. “We’re exactly the same age!”     

My mom sat me down at the kitchen table. “Well, Addie, Emma’s brain works differently from yours. Do you remember what I told you before about the brain?” 

“You told me that the brain and the body work together,” I said.  

“That’s right. Every time you think, speak, or move any part of your body, it is your brain that is helping make it happen.” 

“So, is it my brain that is making my mouth move right now?” 

“Yes,” my mom responded. “Your brain sends and receives messages to and from every part of your body. It’s complicated, but the important thing to remember is that, even though everybody has a brain, not every brain works the same.” 

“Why not?” I asked. 

“Because every single brain in the world is unique,” she said. “Some brains are good at understanding math, for example, other brains might be good at memorizing words. Some brains can understand new ideas very quickly, other brains might need more time to understand new things and to get used to them.” 

I thought about it, then asked, “Is that why it is hard for Emma to speak? Is it because it takes longer for her brain than it takes my brain to figure out what words to say?”  

“Yes,” my mom said. “That is why she goes to a speech therapist—so she can get better and faster at getting her words out.” 

It was good to hear my mom’s explanation. I now understand that just because someone has a tough time doing certain things, it doesn’t mean they can’t do other things well. And just because our brains work differently, it doesn’t mean we can’t find a way to communicate. We just need to be patient and try to find different ways to express our thoughts and understand each other.  

Do you have a friend like Emma? If so, I hope you have learned a lot from each other. And I hope you continue to have lots of fun together!  

Questions

  1. Emma and Addie are twins, so they look very much alike. But there is one way in which they are very different from each other. Can you tell us how? 
  2. We all have unique ways of talking and expressing ourselves. How does Emma express her thoughts and feelings? 
  3. Do you think Emma might have interesting ideas even though she doesn’t use her words very often? What makes you think that? 
  4. Can you recall a time when you had a thought in your mind but had a tough time putting it into words? How did that make you feel? 
  5. Can you think of games you can play with a kid who is quiet or uses few words when he or she speaks? 

Addie

When talking with a friend like Emma, keep in mind:

  • Just because your friend isn’t saying much, it doesn’t mean he or she can’t understand your words. It also doesn’t mean your friend doesn’t have thoughts and opinions about what you’ve just said. 
  •  You might need to give your friend a little more time to respond to your questions or comments. Remember, kids like Emma take longer than you to put their words together. 
  • Sometimes, your friend might answer a question or make a comment and then stop talking. To keep the conversation going, you might need to ask him or her a few more questions.  
  • If you are in a noisy place, your friend might get distracted or overwhelmed and get even quieter. It helps to find a place that is not so noisy, if you guys want to have a conversation.    
  • There are other ways your friend might choose to communicate. Sometimes eye contact or a simple smile will be all that you will get. Other times, drawing, dancing or blowing off steam on the playground might be how your friend communicates with you. 

Addie

When talking with a friend like Emma, Keep in mind:

  • Just because your friend isn’t saying much, it doesn’t mean he or she can’t understand your words. It also doesn’t mean your friend doesn’t have thoughts and opinions about what you’ve just said.    
  • You might need to give your friend a little more time to respond to your questions or comments. Remember, kids like Emma take longer than you to put their words together. 
  • Sometimes, your friend might answer a question or make a comment and then stop talking. To keep the conversation going, you might need to ask him or her a few more questions.  
  • If you are in a noisy place, your friend might get distracted or overwhelmed and get even quieter. It helps to find a place that is not so noisy, if you guys want to have a conversation.    
  • There are other ways your friend might choose to communicate. Sometimes eye contact or a simple smile will be all that you will get. Other times, drawing, dancing or blowing off steam on the playground might be how your friend communicates with you. 
Categories
Parent's Perspective

Embracing Difference

Menu

Embracing Difference

One of the most empowering insights I’ve reached as a special needs parent was the realization that differences in brain function are natural, ever-present aspects of the human experience. They are as old as humanity itself.

It took me a while to embrace this view, partly because my neurodiverse child’s struggles—such as her social communication difficulties and motor clumsiness—are undeniably and inextricably tied to her neurodiversity. But eventually I came to view her difference for what it is: her unique way of filtering and processing information, communicating her impressions, and functioning in this world.

Embracing Difference

One of the most empowering insights I’ve reached as a special needs parent was the realization that differences in brain function are natural, ever-present aspects of the human experience. They are as old as humanity itself.

It took me a while to embrace this view, partly because my neurodiverse child’s struggles—such as her social communication difficulties and motor clumsiness—are undeniably and inextricably tied to her neurodiversity. But eventually I came to view her difference for what it is: her unique way of filtering and processing information, communicating her impressions, and functioning in this world.

Instead of focusing on “fixing” my child, I started to wonder: How can we make the world more receptive and accommodating to people like her? How can we ensure that the perspectives of neurodiverse individuals are heard and respected? How can we move beyond the mere physical integration of neurodiverse individuals into our communities and reach true social integration?

For the above to happen, neurotypicals will need to understand the neurodiverse better. They will need to be exposed to neurodiverse perspectives and educated on the different neurodevelopmental conditions. Parents of neurodiverse children will need to embrace the gifts and challenges of their kids’ differences and arm themselves with information to effectively advocate for their kids’ social inclusion. Teachers and therapists will need to ensure that their approaches focus not only on accommodating deficits but also on emphasizing the strengths of neurodiverse minds. And employers, in their efforts to build truly diverse and inclusive work cultures, will need to open their doors to neurodiverse people and find ways to accommodate them both physically and socially.

Many neurodiverse individuals are already self-advocating and sowing the seeds for greater understanding and acceptance of their differences. But neurotypicals, especially parents, siblings, relatives, teachers and friends of neurodiverse individuals can also play a role in this process. In this space, I try to do my part by offering information on various neurodiversity topics. I hope that what you read not only broadens your perspective but also inspires your own efforts to create a more inclusive world.

© Suri Pacinelli

Categories
Parent's Perspective

How do I tell my child about his difference?

Menu

How do I tell my child about his difference?

Your special needs child might very well be aware of his difference. But does he fully grasp the nature of his neurodiversity?

Unless you have approached this topic with him, it is possible that even though your kid knows he has specific challenges, he might not understand why he has them. This is especially true in cases of neurodevelopmental conditions, as opposed to physical or medical disabilities.

Many parents of neurodiverse children struggle with whether to have this conversation with their child. They fear the information might be difficult for the kid to process, or that the weight of a disclosed diagnosis could shatter their child’s fragile self-esteem.

However, most experts agree this conversation should happen at some point. Below, you will find some things you might want to consider before initiating the talk.

How do I tell my child about his difference?

Your special needs child might very well be aware of his differences. But does he fully grasp the nature of his neurodiversity?

Unless you have approached this topic with him, it is possible that even though your kid knows he has specific challenges, he might not understand why he has them. This is especially true in cases of neurodevelopmental conditions, as opposed to physical or medical disabilities.

Many parents of neurodiverse children struggle with whether to have this conversation with their child. They fear the information might be difficult for the kid to process, or that the weight of a disclosed diagnosis could shatter their child’s fragile self-esteem.

However, most experts agree this conversation should happen at some point. Below, you will find some things you might want to consider before initiating the talk.

Are you ready for this conversation?

To test your readiness for this discussion, you might want to examine your views toward neurodiversity. Have you come to terms with your child’s differences or diagnosis, if he has one? Do you view people with neurodevelopmental conditions as “less than” or in need of a medical “cure”? Do you worry about what others might think once they find out that your child is neurodiverse? Do you think that your kid’s self-esteem will be affected once he learns that he is “different”?

Parents need to accept and embrace their child’s differences before they can comfortably approach this subject with their child. It might be much harder for some neurotypicals to feel comfortable with the social stigma faced by the neurodiverse than for children who themselves are neurodiverse. Beware of projecting your own fears and unresolved feelings onto your child. If you’re still processing and finding it hard to accept your child’s differences, it would be wise to seek the help of a mental health professional.

We have come a long way as a society with respect to our views and treatment of the neurodiverse, but many of us are still influenced by ableist beliefs, which regard differences as deficits or defects. If you open yourself to the idea that neurological variations are simply different ways of experiencing and functioning in this world, you will find that most of the conversations you have with your child about his differences will come from a place of empowerment, as opposed to disappointment or fear.

Is your child developmentally, psychologically, and emotionally ready to handle the information?
Look for signs.

Is he asking you questions about his abilities and challenges? Is he noticing that other kids can do things that he cannot? Is he asking why he needs therapy and accommodations at school while most of his friends don’t? If the answer to these questions is “yes,” then your child probably has the self-awareness needed to grasp what it means to be neurodiverse.

When discussing your child’s challenges, you might want to introduce him to the idea that everyone has different abilities. You could objectively describe his challenges as well as his strengths and his capacity to adapt and function in his own unique way. For example, you could say that even though his dysgraphia makes it difficult for him to write with a pen or pencil, he is quite good at using the computer for typing and completing school assignments. Or you could tell him that even though he struggles with running and other physical activities, he has a fantastic memory and a great ear for music.  

Is this the right time?

When choosing the best time to have this conversation, opt for a neutral, calm situation. Don’t bring up the subject during a moment of frustration or pain for either one of you—especially during a time when your child is struggling with his differences or with what he might perceive as his own “shortcomings.” This first conversation could set the tone for future ones. It will be the start of an ongoing exchange between you and your child, which will be transformed and enriched as he acquires more life experience.

Focus on adaptive strategies.

The more your kid understands how his neurodiversity manifests, the easier it will be for him to develop strategies to function and thrive in a neurotypical world. Discuss the many adaptive strategies he can employ now and in the future. Stress the importance of self-advocacy—only he can tell his teachers and the other people in his life what works for him and what doesn’t, whether it be school accommodations or a new routine at home. Further, the more your child speaks up and self-advocates, the more he will normalize his (as well as others’) neurodiversity.

By embracing the neurodiversity paradigm, both you and your child will move away from a deficit mindset toward one that focuses on his strengths and potential. And once you let that guide your life, having “the talk” will no longer feel awkward. Instead, it will be a continuous source of helpful information, emotional comfort, and self-discovery.

© Suri Pacinelli

Categories
Neurodiverse Conditions

What is Social Communication Disorder?

A child with autism in glasses sits on the sofa and is sad, hugs a soft toy teddy bear
Menu

What is Social Communication Disorder?

Imagine you stumble upon a friend at the grocery store and the two of you start chatting. Assume that you’re both neurotypicals. Next, think about some of the elements that might go into having a smooth, successful interaction with your friend.

Greeting:

When two people run into each other, they typically say things like, “hello,” “good morning,” or “it’s great to see you.”

Nonverbal communication:

The two of you might smile and raise your eyebrows, expressing surprise at  your fortuitous encounter. You might get closer, so you can hear each other better, but keep a socially appropriate distance for the conversation. You will probably make eye contact, and your facial expressions and gestures will match the topic of your conversation.

Volume, tone and speed:

If the grocery store is noisy, you might speak loudly enough so you can hear each other. Your tone will be influenced by the conversation topic, and the speed of your sentences will be appropriate—not too slow (you’re both running errands after all!) and not too fast (you want to be able to understand each other’s words).

Rules of conversation:

One of you might introduce a relevant topic (“How is your Aunt Sally doing after her surgery?). You will likely take turns listening and speaking. You will keep the conversation to a convenient length and transition smoothly into its conclusion, maybe promising to catch up later.

Social cognition:

As someone who can take the perspective of another person, you might think, “My friend must be worried about her aunt after  last week’s surgery.” You will listen to your friend’s comments and match her emotions during the conversation.

Greeting:

When two people run into each other, they typically say things like, “hello,” “good morning,” or “it’s great to see you.”

Nonverbal communication:

The two of you might smile and raise your eyebrows, expressing surprise at  your fortuitous encounter. You might get closer, so you can hear each other better, but keep a socially appropriate distance for the conversation. You will probably make eye contact, and your facial expressions and gestures will match the topic of your conversation.

Volume, tone and speed:

If the grocery store is noisy, you might speak loudly enough so you can hear each other. Your tone will be influenced by the conversation topic, and the speed of your sentences will be appropriate—not too slow (you’re both running errands after all!) and not too fast (you want to be able to understand each other’s words).

Rules of conversation:

One of you might introduce a relevant topic (“How is your Aunt Sally doing after her surgery?). You will likely take turns listening and speaking. You will keep the conversation to a convenient length and transition smoothly into its conclusion, maybe promising to catch up later.

Social cognition:

As someone who can take the perspective of another person, you might think, “My friend must be worried about her aunt after  last week’s surgery.” You will listen to your friend’s comments and match her emotions during the conversation.

These are just a few of the things our brains must do when we’re communicating with others—and this list is by no means exhaustive. Many neurodiverse people, however, have difficulties using verbal and nonverbal language for social purposes. The term used for this neurological variation is social communication disorder (SCD).

What is

Social Communication?

Social communication is a multifaceted phenomenon that includes:

    • Language processing (the ability to understand and use words)
    • Social cognition (the ability to process information about others in social settings)
    • Pragmatics (the use of language in different contexts)
    • Social interaction

It is heavily influenced by cultural factors, so its rules can vary drastically among social groups, regions, and countries. These same rules are often reflective of the majority—or neurotypical—perspective, so it shouldn’t come as a shock that many neurodiverse individuals struggle with social communication.

Put simply, people with SCD have a hard time communicating in ways that are appropriate for particular social contexts. They might say the “wrong” thing or act in unusual ways because they don’t always understand the implicit rules of social communication. They often miss contextual clues, such as someone’s gestures and facial expressions, and might not understand language that is not literal, unambiguous, or direct.

Every individual with SCD is unique, and the condition manifests itself in different ways. Sometimes a person displays just a few, subtle symptoms—you might not even realize that he struggles with social communication. Other times, it could become clear early on that someone processes social communication very differently from you. Below, you will find some tell-tale signs:

  • People with SCD might not adapt their language to the person with whom they are speaking. For example, they might use the same tone and word choices with a young child and an adult. They might also struggle with switching between formal and informal language.
  • They might not adapt the information they are sharing to their listener, either providing too many details to someone who already knows the matter at hand or not enough information to a person who is not conversant with a particular subject.
  • They might have difficulties using greetings and initiating conversations. Similarly, they might have a hard time introducing a topic, staying on topic, maintaining a conversation, repairing a conversation when there is a misunderstanding, or matching the feelings of the other person.
  • They might not use appropriate volume, speed, tone, or maintain a socially acceptable distance when speaking with someone. They might speak with the same volume in the classroom as on the playground, for example.
  • They might misunderstand comments that are ambiguous, indirect or not literal. Jokes and sarcasm can be tricky concepts for people with social communication disorder.
  • Their expressions and gestures might not match their words.
  • They might not be able to interpret your facial expressions and gestures and could miss important contextual information as a result. If you look at your watch, and politely say, “I can’t believe it’s dinner time already” to indicate that it’s time to wrap up a conversation, they might brush off your comment and continue talking.

Neurotypicals subconsciously know the “rules” of social communication and might get thrown off when someone with SCD inadvertently breaks them. We might unfairly assume the person is being rude or inconsiderate. We might even think he or she isn’t intellectually capable of understanding what we’re telling them—which often isn’t the case.

To have a successful interaction with people with SCD, keep in mind that they have a different way of processing verbal and nonverbal communication. Their difference doesn’t mean they are not capable of communicating effectively or understanding what you want to tell them. You might just need to adapt your language and try your best to view the situation from their perspective— much like neurodiverse individuals do when interacting with neurotypicals.

Conditions

What are some conditions that tend to co-occur with SCD?

Researchers believe that there might be a genetic component to SCD. Some of the risk factors include:

    • ADHD
    • other language disorders such as receptive or expressive language disorder
    • learning disabilities
    • developmental delays
    • intellectual disability
    • hearing loss
    • traumatic brain injuries
    • dementia

(Note: Autism shares several SCD traits but is its own separate diagnosis.)

What can we do to accommodate people with social communication disorder?

A little flexibility goes a long way when communicating with people with SCD. At times, your interactions might look and sound a little different than the ones you have with neurotypicals, but don’t let that deter you. You can still have a rich, meaningful conversation despite the initial communication barriers. Here are some tips to make the process easier:

  • Keep language simple and direct. Double meanings or sarcasm might not be immediately understood and could cause confusion and anxiety.
  • Allow for pauses between statements and questions so that your friend with SCD has time to process the information being discussed. Be patient and allow this conversation to move a little slower than you might be used to.
  • Ask questions to make sure your friend understands what you’ve just said. Don’t move on to your next point until you know that you’re both on the same page. Sometimes, you will need to “overexplain” things that you think might be implicit or have been understood.
  • If you need to have an important conversation with someone with SCD, look for an environment that is free of sensory distractions such as too much noise, bright lights or crowds. Many individuals with SCD have sensory processing challenges, and if you lessen their cognitive load by going to a more calming environment, they will focus on the conversation better.
  • Practice active listening. Focus on what your friend is telling you, instead of thinking of a response while he’s still speaking. Try to minimize interruptions. Let him know that you’re paying attention by summarizing what he just said and, if needed, asking questions.
  • Focus on the intended meaning of your friend’s message and not so much on how the message is delivered. When speaking, individuals with SCD might use different intonations, volume, and speed than you might expect. This could throw you off sometimes, so remember to pay attention to your friend’s words and basic intention.
  • Don’t confuse linguistic output with how much a person understands. Many individuals with SCD can understand what is being communicated better than they can express it themselves. You don’t have to change the content of your conversation out of concern for their ability to understand it— you just might need to change its “packaging” by simplifying the communication and following some of the above suggestions.

Conclusion

Many neurodiverse individuals spend a lot of time and effort trying to understand the rules that govern social communication between neurotypicals. Often, these individuals struggle to override their instincts and express themselves in ways that neurotypicals might find “acceptable.” But we, neurotypicals, can also do our part to facilitate our social interactions with the neurodiverse. All it takes is flexibility—and some tweaks in the way we communicate.

© Suri Pacinelli

Categories
Neurodiverse Conditions

We have what it takes to socially integrate the neurodiverse, but we often fall short. Why?

Menu

We have what it takes to socially integrate the neurodiverse, but we often fall short. Why?

We’ve come a long way when it comes to physically integrating neurodiverse individuals. But physical integration doesn’t automatically lead to social integration. In fact, despite their presence at schools, the workplace, and other social spaces, the neurodiverse are often ostracized, marginalized, and misunderstood. Why?

Many of us don’t even realize that, despite our best intentions, we might unconsciously harbor ableist beliefs and unwittingly discriminate against the neurodiverse.

That’s because our culture is deeply influenced by the medical model of disability, which regards any physical or cognitive variation—particularly those resulting in what might be considered underperformance in some areas—as “unhealthy” or as “problems” that need to be fixed.

It’s not an easy job to face our biases and go out of our way to socially integrate the neurodiverse—but it can be done. When we begin to understand the different neurodevelopmental conditions, we end up naturally discarding some of our prejudices. We also end up realizing that it’s possible to have a rewarding and fruitful interaction with the neurodiverse, despite some of the usual social communication barriers. A healthy dose of curiosity, respect, and flexibility can take us far.

We have what it takes to socially integrate the neurodiverse, but we often fall short. Why?

We’ve come a long way when it comes to physically integrating neurodiverse individuals. But physical integration doesn’t automatically lead to social integration. In fact, despite their presence at schools, the workplace, and other social spaces, the neurodiverse are often ostracized, marginalized, and misunderstood. Why?

Many of us don’t even realize that, despite our best intentions, we might unconsciously harbor ableist beliefs and unwittingly discriminate against the neurodiverse. 

That’s because our culture is deeply influenced by the medical model of disability, which regards any physical or cognitive variation—particularly those resulting in what might be considered underperformance in some areas—as “unhealthy” or as “problems” that need to be fixed.

It’s not an easy job to face our biases and go out of our way to socially integrate the neurodiverse—but it can be done. When we begin to understand the different neurodevelopmental conditions, we end up naturally discarding some of our prejudices. We also end up realizing that it’s possible to have a rewarding and fruitful interaction with the neurodiverse, despite some of the usual social communication barriers. A healthy dose of curiosity, respect, and flexibility can take us far.

Categories
Uncategorized

What is “NEURODIVERSITY”?

Menu

What is "NEURODIVERSITY"?

Neurodiversity is the idea that differences in brain function and behavior—such as the way someone learns, talks, performs physical and mental tasks, or interacts with others—are natural, normal aspects of the human experience. According to this perspective, brain variations that result in intellectual and learning disabilities, autism spectrum disorder (ASD), attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD), developmental delays, among other things, are not problems that require a cure. They are simply different ways of functioning in the world. We refer to individuals with these variations as “neurodiverse,” and those without perceived differences as “neurotypicals.” 

What is "NEURODIVERSITY"?

Neurodiversity is the idea that differences in brain function and behavior—such as the way someone learns, talks, performs physical and mental tasks, or interacts with others—are natural, normal aspects of the human experience. According to this perspective, brain variations that result in intellectual and learning disabilities, autism spectrum disorder (ASD), attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD), developmental delays, among other things, are not problems that require a cure. They are simply different ways of functioning in this world. We refer to individuals with these variations as “neurodiverse,” and those without perceived differences as “neurotypicals.” 

The concept of neurodiversity is bringing about a paradigm shift. It’s causing people to rethink long-held misconceptions about conditions such as autism and learning disabilities. It’s also encouraging people to more forcefully advocate for the inclusion of and accommodations for individuals with neurological differences.

The neurodiversity movement started out in the autism rights community in the 1990s and has expanded to include other neurodevelopmental conditions. Many people, including myself, use the term to describe brain variations that result from both genetic and environmental factors, such as a birth brain injury. We believe that these differences should be treated as natural parts of the human experience, regardless of how they originated.

Neurodiversity is not simply a politically correct view that compels us to respect and integrate people with neurological differences because it’s “the right thing to do.” Instead, it’s a viewpoint that is informed by decades of scientific research as well as the perspective of neurodiverse individuals.

There is no doubt that brain variations create day-to-day challenges for the neurodiverse, many of whom require accommodations at schools, the workplace, and other public venues to function effectively and thrive. But some of these differences are usually a mixed bag: they can result in challenges as well as gifts and talents. They generate unique ways of perceiving and experiencing the world which, if considered and incorporated into our societal dialogue and worldview, could truly enrich society.

Studies indicate that many individuals with intellectual disabilities display heightened musical abilities, for example. People with ASD might have strengths when it comes to working with machines, mathematical systems, and computer coding. Those with ADHD often display strong creativity and high energy, as well as the ability to hyperfocus. Individuals with dyslexia tend to excel at global visual processing, pattern recognition, and spatial intelligence.

Decades of research have informed us that a person’s “output” (or their visible behavior, such as their expressive language) doesn’t always reflect their brains’ ability to decode “input” (or their understanding of the world around them, such as their receptive language). We now know that some of the behaviors that baffled special needs parents and teachers a few decades ago are self-regulating strategies that people with neurodevelopmental disorders instinctively employ. Rocking one’s body back and forth, for example, a common sensory-seeking behavior that is commonly suppressed and discouraged, provides essential proprioceptive and vestibular input that helps neurodiverse individuals figure out the position and movement of their bodies. The same goes for flapping one’s arms.

But despite our scientific and anecdotal knowledge, neurodiverse behaviors continue to be stigmatized, often resulting in the social isolation of individuals with neurological differences. There are multiple efforts to include them in places like schools and the workplace, so it is fair to say that they are physically integrated into the social fabric. But physical integration doesn’t necessarily equal social integration. For true social integration to happen, neurotypicals will need to understand the neurodiverse better. And for that understanding to come about, neurotypicals will need to be receptive to, as opposed to fearful of, people with neurological differences. Perhaps most difficult, neurotypicals will need to acknowledge and overcome their prejudices against the neurodiverse.  

Eventually, as we leave behind our socially inherited biases and embrace the neurodiversity paradigm, we might realize that the divide between neurotypicals and the neurodiverse is not as clear-cut as it appears. After all, people function on a spectrum, relying on their unique sets of strengths and weaknesses. In other words, every single person in the world is inherently “diverse” and uniquely wired—so, in the end, to be different is what is normal.