neighborhood

Here’s a bite-sized piece maybe someone can digest and apply across a spectrum of environments (if someone’s mind is flexible enough): There are people sitting next to you (or maybe even you) for whom a click of a button on a website unleashes a host of unexpected sensory and cognitive attacks, in the form of attention- and cognition-demanding responses to that one little click.

Test my hypothesis: go to a website for a church that rents space. Click on their scheduling link button. Chances are a completely new visual environment will leap out at you, as if out of nowhere, and you’re asked to log in with your account (remember, this is your first time visiting this website–what is this account? Am I accountable to the church? I just want to borrow a room for a minute). And then it demands highly personal information and account information for a seemingly unrelated account. (wtf is going on here? I thought this was a church). And then, after careful consideration (this is a church, right? They must have a loving intention) and tentatively entered personal information, the calendar application wants to mate with my calendar application, and gives me no opportunity for consent (I’m being raped by a church calendar. wtf just happened? Who can I call?).

And imagine this happening in the context of trying to create safe spaces for children’s attention and cognition to unfold at its own pace.

It’s not even a micro-aggression – it’s a highly-charged aggressive set of demands, that require attentional and cognitive equilibrium to process well. In the absence of this equilibrium, and in the presence of an obligation to be competent in this highly-charged aggressive environment, these demands are beyond aggressive – they are debilitating. They kill the spirit.

It should be obvious that I’m describing my own experience. And speaking from my own experience, of a person who is highly competent in certain environments, I experience that the disability I experience is the product of the environment, and not a flaw in my character.

But then, imagine that this person experiencing disability (meaning me, in this case) is told, in a thousand tiny moments spread across their life, that they shouldn’t be feeling what they’re feeling (because the people who design these environments aren’t feeling what other people feel when other people enter these environments). Imagine telling someone that they “shouldn’t” “be” “feeling.” Those concepts together are highly aggressive and dismissive. Isn’t that called gaslighting? But what do I know: I’m only operating from my experience. Who’ll believe me?

If you can feel what I’m getting at, you’re getting at the environment that we’re operating in as people with highly specialized nervous systems–HSPs, NDs, ADHDs, ASDs, and all the othered initialed sensibilities. It’s a whole process to even understand it from inside, let alone explain it to someone who designed it, and is highly invested in the design.

People who experience the world in special ways, who are highly competent in certain environments, experience these aggressive responses a thousand times a day. Or, when these environments are codified in the form of obligation, they may be experienced as an almost permanent disability. We are being gaslit into believing we are permanently disabled. But we are perfectly abled within in our special environments. And often, these special environments are highly conducive to inclusion, community, emergent wisdom, teamwork, cooperation. Environments that many people actually like, but rarely get to visit, because these humanly interactive environments are highly endangered.

And almost no one is listening. Most have tuned me out already.

But the ones who are listening are the ones who are hearing me now. Thanks for listening. Thanks so much for listening. I hope we get through this. If we keep listening and connecting, maybe we will get through this. I have hope.