To celebrate National Inclusion week, education actuary Sally Calder has written a blog series on neurodiversity, with a focus on autism. In part six, she talks about 14 ways we can all help people with autism. The six-part series covers self-identification, diagnosis, stigma, and strengths and challenges. She also highlights what we, in the spirit of inclusivity, can all do to support neurodivergent individuals.
Over this blog series, I’ve explained what being autistic means to me and given my take on the strengths and challenges. So, armed with all information, what’s next?
No two autistic people are the same. Everyone’s needs and preferences will differ. Learning to spot the signs of discomfort is the first step, and there’s nothing wrong in simply asking! But based on my experiences, here are 14 things to consider:
Though we like to be included, the prospect of social interaction can be overwhelming, and we’ll often want to duck out. We appreciate being invited. But if we’re told “you must join in”, “everybody loves a party”, or the frankly sadistic “Come on, don’t be shy!” it will alienate us even more. We’ll feel under pressure to conform to normal social behaviour, which increases anxiety and risks a meltdown.
When giving directions, or instructions, you might have to communicate more directly, or differently, to us, to make sure we’ve picked everything up. And we may need the instructions repeated several times.
If you see us scribbling, doodling, or fiddling with our pens while you’re talking, it’s not out of disrespect: it’s a form of ‘stimming’. We’re using repetitive action to help us stay calm and focus on what you’re saying.
Even if we’re not looking at you, we’re still listening to what you say.
And be careful, we can sometimes pick up on what you’re saying even if you’re at the other end of the room!
If we’re avoiding eye contact, it’s not because we’re trying to deceive – it's just what we do. Autistic people often use the trick of looking at people’s foreheads, so it seems as if we’re looking you in the eye, but it’s not so uncomfortable. So if our line of vision looks a little off, that might be why.
If we look confused or fall silent when you ask a question, try to rephrase it more literally. We might not ask you for clarification if we’re worried about causing offence.
We may not give the same facial reactions as neurotypical people. If we look deadpan during a meeting, it doesn’t necessarily mean we’re confused, or unhappy.
Hint: publicly saying “cheer up, it might never happen” or “oh dear, you don’t look impressed” is a big no-no. If you think we’ve not picked something up, find a way to check without spotlighting us. Use a private chat facility or an offline chat afterwards.
We do have a sense of humour, but you may need to give us clues when you’re being flippant, or we’ll take what you’ve said literally.
If we can remember that speck of dirt on the third button of the green stripey shirt you wore last Thursday, that doesn’t mean we’re creepy stalkers.
We may blurt out tactless remarks. If the room goes quiet afterwards, believe me, we’ll pick up on that and feed our self-loathing over having offended others. We’ll over-process in our heads ways to apologise and rephrase without causing further offence. But by the time we’ve worked out what to do and say, the conversation will have moved on.
Confrontations and criticisms affect us more than others, and we’ll obsess about them for days (see the point above).
Try to avoid ‘management speak’ as we’ll never understand it. We just won’t get the metaphor. Many of us will have to look up the meaning of these phrases (we love videoconferences where we can look them up discreetly online).
If we go quiet in a conversation or a meeting, or answer a question abruptly, it could be for a few reasons – but it’s not usually for lack of interest.
For instance, we often take longer to process information, form an opinion, or evaluate what we’re going to say. We could be working out how to word it in a way that makes us look ‘normal’. By the time we’ve worked it all out, the conversation will have moved on. The environment may also have overwhelmed us and we need some quick downtime or a comfort break.
For meetings, giving us prior notice of the discussion points can help. Even better is giving us a chance to comment after the event, when we’ve had time to process everything.
We’re also less likely to speak up if we’re uncomfortable. This is particularly the case if we’re stuck in social situations we desperately want to get out of without causing offence. In these situations, if we fall silent it may be that we’re overthinking and trying to work out how to articulate our discomfort.
We’ll often digress in conversations and obsess over other topics. We’re not being rude, it’s just where our brain has gone. We won’t take offence if you ask us (nicely, please!) to return to the main topic.
Our perceived ‘foibles’ about wanting to sit in a particular seat, or specific location, are part of who we are. Imagine there’s a hurricane in the room caused by all sorts of stimuli: lights, sounds, temperature. If there’s one safe place in the room, that’s the eye of the hurricane where everything is quiet. We need to sit in the eye in order to function.
Hats off to you if you’ve read this far and made it through all six parts! This blog series is based on my own experience, rather than any official research I’ve undertaken. No two autistic people are the same, and neurodiversity covers a whole umbrella such as dyslexia, ADHD, anxiety, and OCD. The list goes on.
I’m on a learning curve as well as you, but I’m embracing my neurodivergence and I’m thrilled to be able to draw on my own experiences to contribute to the IFoA’s employee DEI group. If you wonder if you’re on the spectrum, please reach out (in confidence, if you prefer). This is a topic I could chat about endlessly, as you may have gathered by now!
National Inclusion Week is a week dedicated to celebrating inclusion and taking action to create inclusive workplaces. Learn more at National Inclusion Week 2022.
