Since 2017 I have been coaching neurodiverse adults.
Firstly, it was dyslexic adults in the workplace, and more recently, it has encompassed people who are dyspraxic, dyscalculic, autistic, ADHD, and other health conditions, and sometimes it has been people with a combination of the above.
What I have learnt is that everyone is different, that is for sure. And that the principle of one-size-fits-all does not apply. No way!
I learn new things about people every day, for which I am very thankful.
I like to think that I have an open mind.
I used to be a teacher for pupils with visual impairment. I did that role for 20 years, eventually managing (briefly) the service. When I delivered training to schools about visual impairment and its impact for young people on learning and therefore on teaching, I always stressed the point that every pupil is different – even when two people have the same eye condition, even if they are siblings, they will be different in their needs and how they manage the impact of that condition. I would tell teachers to get to know the pupil as a person. As an organisation, trained by the local authority, we promoted person-centred practices.
Noble stuff, eh?
Now, as a coach I look back aghast at my ignorance. There are a number of pupils that I worked with, sometimes on a one-to-one basis, who have been diagnosed with a neurodivergent condition of some sort. There are also members of staff, in my own team, who I am pretty sure now may well be neurodivergent in some way.
What of all that person-centred stuff? I cringe at my ignorance. And I apologise unreservedly for that ignorance.
How did I not know?
Managers can see physical disability and choose what to do about it. But invisible differences? You have to be a really strong person to initiate that conversation. Or you have to have a manager who you can trust one hundred percent, and even then, it is a risk. Your manager, even if they are friendly and understanding and helpful are, inevitably, the face of their organisation. When they are presented with something that they haven’t encountered before, they have the resources of their organisation behind them, to which they inevitably turn. This includes the HR team. So, when you open up to your manager you are potentially throwing yourself on the mercy (and experience) of who supports them. The risks of disclosure are greater in those circumstances because you don’t know how any of those other people will react. You would hope that they would be supportive.
Obviously, what this reveals, is that workplaces need better training in how to understand and support each other. But this is not news! It has probably always been this way.
I did not know what I was looking at.
In my defence, such as it is, I did not know what I was looking at. I knew a bit about dyslexia, (“having difficulty reading”, isn’t it?) and there was a team of visiting teachers who sometimes worked with dyslexic pupils. But ADHD? Autism? Dyspraxia and dyscalculia? As with dyslexia, I knew only the vaguest of stereotypes.
But there was no training in those days (1990-2017), for adults like me, in ‘understanding and recognising neurodiversity’. Autism and ADHD were a separate specialism from visual impairment. And in terms of managing adults, I never saw any courses in how to support your colleagues with these conditions.
I didn’t know what I didn’t know.
And pupils and colleagues may not have had the words, or the space, or the confidence, to express in language that I could understand, their struggles.
This is the challenge of the workplace, still, today.
Managers can see physical disability and choose what to do about it. But invisible differences? You have to be a really strong person to initiate that conversation. Or you have to have a manager who you can trust one hundred percent, and even then, it is a risk. Your manager, even if they are friendly and understanding and helpful are, inevitably, the face of their organisation. When they are presented with something that they haven’t encountered before, they have the resources of their organisation behind them, to which they inevitably turn. This includes the HR team. So, when you open up to your manager you are potentially throwing yourself on the mercy (and experience) of who supports them. The risks of disclosure are greater in those circumstances because you don’t know how any of those other people will react. You would hope that they would be supportive.
Obviously, what this reveals, is that workplaces need better training in how to understand and support each other. But this is not news! It has probably always been this way.
What does this mean?
What it also reveals, in my mind, is the need for each of us to be sufficiently self-aware of how we work at our best, and sufficiently self-confident to be able to present to our colleagues and managers how we can best thrive in the workplace, without fear of rebuke, criticism, judgement or dismissal.
I have always been impressed, from my coaching experiences, of the qualities and values of those that I have coached. Every single one of them has been determined, hard-working, conscientious, creative and fuelled by integrity. It shines through in our sessions. And these are such valuable traits, surely at the top of the list of essential characteristics for any employee!
For many of the people that I have coached their self-confidence has been severely knocked by their experience at work, often at the hands of managers who (like me, back in the day) did not have the slightest understanding of their colleague’s experience as a neurodiverse person.
It would be great if there was a simple solution to this problem, but of course there is not.
I believe that we all have to continue to work together, respecting each other, being kind, asking questions, listening carefully and supporting each other to do good work and get the job done.
In the workplace, whether colleague or manager, we are all in the same boat, we have sold our time for money, that’s the deal. If we can remember that and work together to help each other, whilst playing to our strengths and not antagonising our weaknesses or fallibilities, we have a better chance to thrive as a team and find satisfaction in our role.
So, to all those people who I failed to support adequately, through my own ignorance – whether pupil, parent, colleague or teacher – I apologise. I would be a better teacher/colleague/manager now, when it is too late, of course. But the principles of respect and kindness, open-mindedness and inclusivity still apply in everyday life in every encounter and that is what we must continue to promote and practice.
If you’d like to become a better manager for your neurodiverse team, have a look at our neurodiversity awareness training for managers.