New Opportunities and Better Strategies for Neurodiverse Students
Excerpt, From the Book Intro
Experts now believe that 15-20 percent of the world’s population is neurodiverse1 — an umbrella term for a cluster of disabilities including autism, dyscalculia, dyspraxia, autism spectrum disorder, dyslexia, ADD/ADHD, and Tourette Syndrome. These conditions, previously seen as distinct disabilities, are now understood to be related in various ways.2 Wired differently, the neurodiverse brain has difficulty with everyday tasks, like reading, writing, or communicating, but can also excel at other tasks, like hyperfocusing on certain topics and thinking creatively.
Remarkably, twenty percent of the world is neurodiverse, yet we rarely acknowledge those differences. One in five students in a classroom learn differently. One in five people is different from other job applicants on Indeed. One in five people is different from the neighbors in their community, at the local baseball game, church, or the supermarket. Yet schools, workplaces, and the community continue to function as if all brains are wired the same way.
Broadening the understanding of neurodiversity is problematic for some who represent individuals with severe presentations of these disabilities. They feel that the needs of their community have become marginalized by groups emphasizing the positive elements of neurodiversity. Advocates for the severely autistic community say that messages like “autism is a superpower” undermine their efforts to raise Medicaid payments and get funding for new housing systems.
The needs of the severely impacted autistic community are real. I fully support them and recognize their challenges. If the severe autism community needs me to march in their protests and to write letters to members of Congress, I’ll be there for them.
The broader neurodiverse community, which includes autistic students who attend the local public schools, faces other struggles. Those more lightly impacted individuals float through the education system, often not getting adequate support. Public schools may allow them in their buildings but won’t provide them with enough resources to thrive. Later, those young people are pushed out of the system at age 18 without a plan for the future.
In the suburbs, people know how to get their typical kids on the road to success with AP classes, SAT prep, college applications, the right internships, and a three-year management training program. This knowledge is so commonplace that it’s like an additive in drinking water. There’s much less information for kids who need to follow an alternative path to adulthood.
The disability world often describes the time after high school as “falling off the cliff” — the support provided by public education ends, and the next steps are unclear. While parenting children with disabilities is never easy, families enjoy some guarantees and predictability during the public school years. All families with disabilities, regardless of the magnitude of the disability, struggle to avoid that cliff when these supports are removed.
The good news is that there are more opportunities than ever before for people with autism and related issues. Nationwide, colleges have embraced their inclusivity missions and are establishing new programs for a wide range of neurodiverse students. Governments and workplaces are gradually creating special programs for autistic young people. Parents are becoming more savvy about the post-high school world and learning to leverage a mix of college programs and government benefits.
While new opportunities and strategies for our autistic young people have emerged, more progress is necessary. Families need to lead the charge by making educated choices in the ballot box, by forming groups within their communities, and by freely exchanging information with others. We also need to keep our kids visible.
We have to enroll our kids in these colleges and other programs. Institutions will only change if we show up at their doorstep instead of hiding them at home. It’s good for our kids, too, because they will improve outside the home, not behind the computer in the basement.
After almost twenty years of autism parenting, it’s difficult to keep fighting that fight, but we have to keep going. That effort will pay off. Your young person is going to keep learning and honing their skills. Their disabilities aren’t static. Those years after high school are a significant time for growth.
At the same time, we can’t shove every square peg into a round hole. These square pegs, after all, are our beautiful children who will be traumatized by rejection and failure. So, parents have to push the kids and the system but know when it’s time to retreat and pursue a Plan B. We should have that Plan B in our back pocket so we can deal with the change without surprise or disappointment.
For autism families, finding a place in the post-high school world requires a little more work than other families, but we can do it. We don’t have to fall off the cliff at all. Taking a great leap takes some planning. It might seem overwhelming and daunting at first, but I’m here to help because I had to make that leap myself.
2 ADD and autism, for example, can be seen as two sides of the same coin. On one side of the coin are ADHD/ADD people who can’t stop thinking about multiple things at the same time, which drains and distracts them. On the other side of the coin are people with autism who hyperfocus on one issue.
Business and Book Updates (Personal Notes)
I’m ignoring Christmas this year. We don’t have a tree yet. I’ll buy some last-minute gift cards next week. I’m doing my damnest to finish a book draft in the next few weeks. I’ve thrown myself into the writing intensity and doing as little mom stuff as possible. People will survive.
I plan to write the proposal by next week (it’s a huge job with market research and sample chapters) and keep writing through January. I have 52K words, so I’m mostly there. I cut out an additional 20K words that will become Book 2. In February, I’m going to do a round of college visits to check out some of these special programs in person. In March, I’ll start a new position.
I wrote that excerpt yesterday. I think it’s my book opener, the first section of my Intro. Is it okay?
Ian leaves for his full-time autism college in the third week of January. He’s kicking ass at his community college this semester. It was the first time that he did a full course load, so I was worried. I shouldn’t have been. He and his older brother — they are doing a programming class together — came strutting in the house last night. They told me that the professor excused them from class early because they finished the computer lab assignment before everyone else.
Sometimes, I’m too cautious with Ian, afraid that he’s going to fail. He’s doing amazing, even on essay assignments. He never learned how to write because he was stuck in the special ed track for English. Meanwhile, Steve just taught him how to write. In one semester, Ian went from only being able to squeeze out seven sentences independently to writing 500-word essays on his own.
At 22, Ian is learning skills that he should have been taught at 12. It’s hard not to be very, very angry at certain people for not doing their jobs.