What we should be asking of our administrators and educators as our children return to school:
Being that the human species is a highly cooperative species, and being that the skill of cooperation takes practice to acquire, what models of cooperation will my child experience in this environment, and what opportunities to cooperate will be offered to meet the need of my child to learn cooperation?
Being that skill in any environment depends on impulses finely tuned to respond to the needs of that environment, and being that tuning our impulses takes careful practice and loving attention, what kinds of loving attention will be applied to tuning the impulses of my child to respond to needs within the environment they’re entering?
Being that children are instinctively inspired to apply their impulses in a learning environment, and being that restraint of impulses requires a certain cognitive and physical load, which the body and mind take on as a posture, what measures have been taken to ensure that attention is given to applying restraint in selective ways, and to giving attention to returning my child to their natural impulsive state once restraints are removed?
Being that the human species has a varied and rich distribution of sensory, cognitive, and behavioral expression, even within families, and these expressions are complementary, what is being done in these learning environments to acknowledge, allow, and encourage people with different sensory, cognitive, and behavioral expressions styles and allow them to engage with the world in the ways that make sense to them?
Being that the adult world is highly specialized and highly cooperative, what opportunities will my child to inhabit different roles, to see which is the best fit for their particular gifts, and so better meet the challenges the adult world will soon offer them?
there are lots of things to recognize in the busy world, and as we age, it’s natural that we’ll recognize more things. It’s just the way of things. Not everyone remembers this.
But if you grew up with grandparents, who nurtured you the way grandparents do, by making space for you to just be who you are, by being less busy, because they recognize themselves in you, you’ll recognize that if your children don’t grow up with grandparents, maybe it’s a good idea to nurture them a little more like grandparents do, by making space for them to be just who they are, and a little less like parents do, busy making sure that every detail’s taken care of, and managing their schedules, schedules that manage to reign in all their impulses, their beautiful human impulses to respond to their world in strange and beautiful ways.
Grandparents recognize strange and beautiful things and ways, simply because they’ve had time to recognize things and ways, and recognize themselves in things and ways, and make space for them. They’ve resolved something that allows them to see beauty in the strangest ways and strangeness in the most beautiful things.
They recognize themselves in you (remember, they were parents too).
If your child is growing up without grandparents, give someone permission to be their grandparents. Maybe the person you’ll recognize and give permission to is you. Permission granted.
Treat the difficult people among us gently. Every day, they are processing our projections.
They are not trying to be difficult–they are just working with the operating system they were born with.
Making peace with the world involves a certain cognitive load, as the brain struggles to create new pathways to connect with and resolve reality. It’s actually what keeps us young.
But in trying to avoid the feeling of the brain creating new pathways, we often offload this cognitive load onto the person we struggle to understand. And the person we are struggling to understand often wants nothing more than to connect with us, and is trying their best, and will process the result of being told they’re difficult until it’s fully processed. This can take multiple lifetimes.
In offloading this processing, realize that we are moving ourselves away from the enlightenment we seek. Enlightenment requires a certain cognitive load.
But if we need a break, advocate for ourselves and take a break. But don’t possibly break the self we’re struggling to understand by offloading our cognitive load to another part of ourself to process by telling ourself we’re difficult.
Don’t offload our cognitive load. Give it a big ol’ hug.
may all beings recognize our true nature every day is neurodiversity awareness day
In learning about my sensory processing world (which should be uncontroversial, and just a normal part of getting old–I’m almost 60, and I feel like I’m just getting started), I’m learning that ‘spacial thinking’ is just not an accepted part of everyone’s operating system or language. In recognizing aphantasia (inner blindness to visual memory) as part of my sensory punchcard of blindnesses that open other windows, I’ve also recognized that I have a deep memory and skill information stored in my bodyandmind spatially. I can’t visualize my mother’s face, but I can imagine myself sitting in the skating rink in Klamath Falls OR in 1978 and point to all of the features there, relative to my position. I can imagine myself in my mother’s apartment and point to all of the rooms and some of the things (not all of the things: there are a lot of things in my mother’s apartment). I can’t see them, but I can point to them, spatially.
So anyway, this is just a quick note to say that some of us think spatially, and try to describe the world that we see spatially, and that in doing what is perfectly normal for me, some folks experience a cognitive load when conversing with or reading me. And some of these folks experience this cognitive load as “ryk being difficult.”
Pause for a moment, and imagine a whole lifetime of being told that you’re difficult, just because you’re trying to work with the operating system you’ve been given. And then consider giving a difficult person a big ol’ hug. I could use a big ol’ hug a lot of the time that I’m being asked to filter my experience through someone else’s operating system. It’s a whole process. Hugs all around.
Anyway, it’s notable and refreshing to be affirmed by examples of spatial thinking from history. Please give someone a hug, and enjoy the depth and breadth and height of this example of spatial thinking (or spatial feeling, actually, if thinking and feeling are different for you–they’re not for me).
How Do I Love Thee? (Sonnet 43)
Elizabeth Barrett Browning (1806–1861)
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight For the ends of being and ideal grace. I love thee to the level of every day's Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light. I love thee freely, as men strive for right. I love thee purely, as they turn from praise. I love thee with the passion put to use In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath, Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.
may all beings recognize their true nature every day is neurodiversity awareness day
it’s not in belief that faith succeeds, but in being moved by beings one sees are being moved by faithful arcs: the sun and moon are proved faithful in their arcs. are we agreeing?
who is moving in these faithful arcs? whose business is in preparing to meet the moon? who is leaving breakfast far too soon, to move some dollars to some oligarchs?
being moved by faith, one moves more slowly; responds more quickly to the moment’s need– without a thought of whether the need is holy, or whether one is doing a holy deed.
faith’s beyond belief: and being wholly present frees the faithful to succeed.
We’re living in a world where we’re all witnessing the same symphony, with all of its nuances and variations and development of themes and variations of timbre and tone and iterations of rhythm and rhyming ends of lines,
and some of us are only hearing the pitch and timbre and tone and rhythm range of the violins,
and some of us are tuned into different specific frequency ranges, and timbral ranges, and rhythm changes, and tonal shifts and spectral bumps and thumps and squeaks and squawks and beeps and thunks,
and some of us are hearing the full spectrum of sound, and the spaces between the sounds (the spaces between are not just beautiful–they contain the beauty) and timbres and pitches and rhythms and iterations of rhythms,
and when we gather, after the symphony, and describe our experiences, some of us are being told that the nuances we heard don’t exist, and that we’re weird for hearing them.
Imagine, if you can imagine, (or at least make friends with someone who imagines, if you can’t imagine), being told that hearing basses and oboes and piccolos and triangles and tympani and glockenspiels and bassoons and trumpets and trombones is weird (to be fair, glockenspiels is a weird word, if English is your only language and you can’t hear the music in it).
That’s what people “on the spectrum” are up against. We’re weird for hearing the whole symphony, or a specific part of the symphonic fabric, and not just the violins, and trying to describe our wonderful spectral experiences to our peers, when we gather, after witnessing the symphony.
And sometimes we just give up. Or selectively give up. Because trying and trying is trying on our ability to describe, so we may appear to have a disability. I’ll tell you: it’s not a disability to witness the symphony. It’s a disability to get our experience across to those who are acculturated to violins.
Something weird’s going on, indeed–I’ll give you that.
Imagine, if you can imagine (or make friends with someone who imagines if you can’t imagine) a world where our experience of the symphony is better together, when we combine our described experiences, rather than excluding ones that are different from our own by calling them weird or saying they don’t exist at all.
Or maybe one wants to live in a world of violins…
As a person who plays both bass and piccolo, I shudder to think of it. It sounds like a violin world, indeed.
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.
To be an autistic person is to be a person with something valuable inside you but to rarely find the right environment where your value is recognized as valuable by people around you.
This is me, speaking from the heart of an autistic person.
If you’ve been following my neurodiversity journey–as I articulate the experience of a person with autism, ADHD, aphantasia, and proprioception hyposensitivity from the inside, along with the other ways i share myself–and you’ve found that the insights I’ve shared connect with your experience, or contextualize something you suspected, realize that sharing these insights is one of the ways I care for my community.
And realize that, as a person with no degrees or qualifications as an advocate other than my lived experience and my inborn gifts, what I share makes no sense in the context of capitalism.
If you find that a person like me is a valuable part of the community, and worthy of support, realize that, within the context of 21st century American capitalism, there’s not much support for people like me, or for the people I advocate for, who often don’t have the gift for articulation that I share with my community.
I could institutionalize myself: pursue an advanced degree that legitimizes my advocacy in the context of capitalism, and in doing so, would need to unplug myself from the community that I move through, and in doing so, become another victim of capitalism – saddled with huge debt, and most likely unable to find an official advocacy position that would pay off that debt in my lifetime.
I choose, instead, to move through my community in the ways I’ve been moving, because my community moves me to do so, and that’s how I show up. That’s how I care.
If you find this valuable, I’m asking to be allowed to continue advocating for your sensory and cognitive gifts, to continue recontextualizing valuable predispositions that have been pathologized. I’m asking to be adopted. I’m asking for your care. I’m asking for your support.
In asking for your support, I’m not asking to be the CEO of Spotify, or Starbucks, or Paramount+, or Ridwell, or any of the other services that folks find valuable and subscribe to. I’m asking for just enough care to be allowed to live and continue to do the work that I do. If you subscribe to even a little bit of the philosophy I share, consider subscribing to me, so I can continue caring for my community in the ways that I do.
Thanks for all you do, and thank you for being you.
The care economy is an emerging model for supporting people, things, and processes we’d like to see more of in the world. It is about recognizing the things in our experience that bring us joy, that give us a [wow] or a [yes], and responding to these moments in a supportive way. It’s actually just, well, practicing care, and that’s not new at all. But the language of commerce is transactional, rather than responsive.
I recognize that I love the work that I do with people so much that I would offer it for free if I was supported–if all of my needs were met. But traditional models don’t allow for that type of responsiveness. I would like to try to move toward a more responsive system, built on trust. Why not?
People who know me can decide if they trust the work I do, and they can choose to support me so that I can do that work, or not. In doing so, they are allowing me to be more myself, and guiding me toward their own needs. I’m the product, in a sense, but since our relationship is based on trust, I’m allowed to do the work I believe, adjusting to the needs that arise, as they align with those who trust me.
This simple shift makes the difference between the transactional and the responsive. But it’s kind of vulnerable and scary. I have to trust those that are responding. Will I be supported? Will enough people believe in the work? If I am being truly responsive to their needs, then perhaps. I think it’s worth a try.
I see a difference between commitment and obligation. Commitment is a responsive engagement, where we meet the needs of the moment as it arises. Obligation can keep us stuck supporting processes that actually hinder our ability to respond to the moment.
So, I see a possibility emerging to do things in a more responsive way, and in seeing how obligation often thwarts connection, I would like to avoid transactions that create a sense of obligation, and nurture ones that give one a sense of [wow] or [yes].
So, think about our interactions in the spaces we share. If our conversations seem to be taking us in good directions, let’s continue the conversation. If helping to support me gives you a sense of [wow] or [yes], then you are participating in the care economy. Thank you for recognizing your own power to support, and if our goals align, thank you for your support.
