By Yamila García

Before coming to the United States, I had never moved in my life. The impact of such a change on me was immense. Moving to another hemisphere, with a different language and such a distinct culture, was a shock. I know that for many, it would be the same, but I also realize that my way of perceiving the world made it even more intense than it might be for others. Not only logical aspects, like adapting to the new language or customs, affected me, but everything sensory. The scents of different seasons (especially fall), the smells of greenery, the flavors of unfamiliar food, and attempting to comprehend the background voices unsuccessfully tormented me daily for a long time, leading to many hours-long headaches.

Many times, I simply wished to hide in a hole and stop feeling everything that overwhelmed me. I clung to the items I had brought from my country in an attempt to endure everything that this significant change was causing me. However, it was this very process that brought the most significant learning to my life. Chaos and crises demand action and oblige us to adapt in some way or another. It can be painful, overwhelming, and frustrating, but when we get out of it, makes us stronger individuals. We are enriched by the battles we fought and conquered, once again overcoming one of the most profound fears that several neurodivergent individuals face: change.

Sticking to a routine serves as a lifeline to alleviate some discomfort from our lives, but discomfort often leads to learning and growth. I’m not suggesting that we should all live in discomfort each day or merely endure whatever comes our way. What I mean is that when something is inevitable, we might approach the challenge with greater appreciation. Acknowledging that it won’t be easy but can significantly contribute to our personal growth. Embracing challenges permits us to dedicate 100% of our efforts to overcome them. On the other hand, when we resist the inevitable, our minds expend excessive energy fighting it, and the fear of confronting it becomes more overwhelming than the actual task itself.

By Yamila García

When a professor asks me something in class, I usually say, “I don’t know.” But the truth is, I don’t remember at the moment, maybe because I panic when I have to talk in front of many people, and so my brain is busy trying to speak properly and not sound too weird. I want to get out of the “situation” as soon as possible. Saying “I don’t know” is like an ostrich hiding its head in the ground. I do my best in my classes to participate in class and lab activities, but when I am asked to work on something that was explained just a few minutes before, I can’t do it. I don’t process things that fast in the classroom, and that is mostly because of the many stimuli I receive in the classroom. I hear all the noises at the same level, so I notice how my focus is interrupted by my classmates commenting on something, passing pages on their manuals, typing, people walking in the hallways, etc.

However, I remember a lot of things when I listen to someone speak, but in a more neurodivergent-friendly environment. I even used to record myself reading because I memorized more easily by listening than by reading. I like reading, but if it is not something I can visualize or draw in my mind while I read it, I get lost so quickly. I can keep going through the text, maybe, but I have no idea of what what I’m reading means. That is why many times when I have to work on exercises from school that have very long instructions, I find it really hard to even start them because I am unable to read the whole thing. I read the first sentence, move to the next one, and I ask myself: what was the previous sentence about? And then go back to the first one and could repeat this for hours. I say the words in my mind but do not connect their meanings somehow. I can “read,” and do it out loud, and still don’t get any idea of what I read. On the contrary, when I read a story, I paint all the descriptions in my mind with so much detail that feels like a movie, and that makes focusing so much easier.

I never heard of simplified instructions as an accommodation, but I could make good use of them. There is no way that knowing how hard it is for me to focus on long texts (no descriptive texts) they expect me to work on a simple exercise but give me 3 pages of instructions including the history of a certain number or symbol, and more irrelevant (to me) information that we do not really need to be able to demonstrate that we know what we have to know. Giving the possibility of choosing between simplified or detailed instructions could improve how many people work at school.

In the year 2012, when many believed the then-interpretation of the Mayan calendars’ abrupt end date to be a prediction of the end of times, I was finally diagnosed, officially, with Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder. My family learned that teachers are legally not allowed to tell parents to request an educational evaluation. It took my family until third grade when they noticed that I seldom had birthday party or playdate invitations to realize that something was amiss and they demanded an educational evaluation that resulted with ADHD..

I was eight years old at the time, attending Booth Hill Elementary School as a third-grader. About halfway through the school year, after consulting numerous medical journals, reports, and studies on the positive results effected by the combination of ADHD medication with talk therapy rather than talk therapy alone on children with this diagnosis, my mother, a family physician, decided that she would go against her Ecuadorian culture upbringing (despite being a first generation American) and let me begin ADHD meds in addition to talk therapy as treatment for ADHD.

According to the DSM ADHD is present when the following criteria are met:

“People with ADHD show a persistent pattern of inattention and/or hyperactivity-impulsivity that interferes with functioning and/or development:

• Inattention: Six or more symptoms of inattention for children up to age 16 years, or five or more for adolescents age 17 years and older and adults; symptoms of inattention have been present for at least 6 months, and they are inappropriate for developmental level:
  • Often fails to give close attention to details or makes careless mistakes in schoolwork, at work, or with other activities.
  • Often has trouble holding attention on tasks or play activities.
  • Often does not seem to listen when spoken to directly.
  • Often does not follow through on instructions and fails to finish schoolwork, chores, or duties in the workplace (e.g., loses focus, side-tracked).
  • Often has trouble organizing tasks and activities.
  • Often avoids, dislikes, or is reluctant to do tasks that require mental effort over a long period of time (such as schoolwork or homework).
  • Often loses things necessary for tasks and activities (e.g. school materials, pencils, books, tools, wallets, keys, paperwork, eyeglasses, mobile telephones).
  • Is often easily distracted
  • Is often forgetful in daily activities.

• Hyperactivity and Impulsivity: Six or more symptoms of hyperactivity-impulsivity for children up to age 16 years, or five or more for adolescents age 17 years and older and adults; symptoms of hyperactivity-impulsivity have been present for at least 6 months to the extent that is disruptive and inappropriate for the person’s developmental level:

• • Often fidgets with or taps hands or feet, or squirms in seat.
  • Often leaves seat in situations when remaining seated is expected.
  • Often runs about or climbs in situations where it is not appropriate (adolescents or adults may be limited to feeling restless).
  • Often unable to play or take part in leisure activities quietly.
  • Is often “on the go” acting as if “driven by a motor”.
  • Often talks excessively.
  • Often blurts out an answer before a question has been completed.
  • Often has trouble waiting their turn.
  • Often interrupts or intrudes on others (e.g., butts into conversations or games)

In addition, the following conditions must be met:

• Several inattentive or hyperactive-impulsive symptoms were present before age 12 years.
• Several symptoms are present in two or more settings, (such as at home, school or work; with friends or relatives; in other activities).
• There is clear evidence that the symptoms interfere with, or reduce the quality of, social, school, or work functioning.
• The symptoms are not better explained by another mental disorder (such as a mood disorder, anxiety disorder, dissociative disorder, or personality disorder). The symptoms do not happen only during the course of schizophrenia or another psychotic disorder.

Based on the types of symptoms, three kinds (presentations) of ADHD can occur:

• Combined Presentation: if enough symptoms of both criteria inattention and hyperactivity-impulsivity were present for the past 6 months
• Predominantly Inattentive Presentation: if enough symptoms of inattention, but not hyperactivity-impulsivity, were present for the past six months
• Predominantly Hyperactive-Impulsive Presentation: if enough symptoms of hyperactivity-impulsivity, but not inattention, were present for the past six months.

Because symptoms can change over time, the presentation may change over time as well.” (1)(3)

Let me describe what schoolwork was like before beginning medications and still is once my meds wear off: absolute torture! I’ve heard ADHD described as running a marathon with boulders in your pockets. Of course you can still manage to pull off completion of the task but every step is so much harder than it has to be. For example, I remember so many nights where my Mom would lovingly sit next to me trying to keep me focused on the task at hand since she realized the moment she left I would begin to go down the rabbit hole of learning interesting science facts on the internet with no end in sight until her return. Those assignments seemed to not get completed until right before midnight. Many times, despite the imminent due date, such as the next day, even after all the work and extra time put in and sleep lost by both of us; I would invariably seem to purposely sabotage myself and forget to turn in the assignment costing me precious points, resulting in a lower grade. She always emphasized that she was certain I was a great writer; it’s just that it always took hours to collect my thoughts enough to get me to even start writing. Once I began, it would take some time to get me to stop. I would almost always completely forget to bring home assignments and when I did complete them, I would often forget to turn them in.. Everything took hours for me, all the activities of daily living such as bathing, dressing and even eating. One slice of pizza would take hours to eat and I love pizza! But I would get so distracted that I would have to heat it up in the microwave at least 2-3 times and so by the time I got around to earning it it would taste like cardboard.

Test-taking was the worst! It would take me a good 25-30 min just to settle in to start my test either because of anxiety or distractions from the nervous jitter of the other children or from the repetitive tapping of my own foot on the floor. By the time I could finally concentrate on what the first question was asking me, over half the testing time had gone by. Invariably, most of the questions were left unanswered. In the rare instance, I would finish a test in time, I would find out much too late (when the teacher returned my test with not an A) that there was a whole back of the test page I failed to answer because I never looked!

Once I began ADHD medication, it took a while to figure out which one would work for me. My fourth-grade teacher, Mrs. Devine noticed something was different right away saying “Michael has always been very polite and extremely intelligent but now it seems someone has taken his cover off and he shines more brightly.” Once accommodations began, my family still had to deal with more than one teacher who felt as if  I’d been given an unfair advantage. They did not realize that what these accommodations were doing was leveling the playing field. I’ve heard ADHD described as running a marathon with boulders in your pockets. I completely agree.

The Americans with Disability Act was passed in 1990 and is a Civil Rights Law that prohibits discrimination based on disability. (2)  Thanks to this law, there are accommodations offered to children with  neurodiversity from elementary to high school and even college years.  I have been very impressed with the University of Connecticut’s Center for Students with Disabilities and the provision of continuing educational accommodations from secondary school to college. This provision is invaluable to me as a neurodiverse student since it continues to help me learn how to work well and even succeed with my diagnosis.  Hope this gives you a little better understanding of your neurodiverse peer.

Citations:

1. CDC. (2018). Symptoms and diagnosis of ADHD. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. https://www.cdc.gov/ncbddd/adhd/diagnosis.html
2. ‌2010 ADA regulations. (2010). Ada.gov. https://www.ada.gov/2010_regs.html
3. CDC. (2021, September 23). What Is ADHD? Centers for Disease Control and Prevention; CDC. https://www.cdc.gov/ncbddd/adhd/facts.html

By Yamila García

My perception of the world differs greatly from that of neurotypicals. While textures are irrelevant to many people, they are of the utmost importance to me. Certain textures help me connect with the present moment, focus on my activities, or even provide comfort. On the other hand, certain textures can stress me out, make me nervous, or even cause me pain. I experience textures with my entire body and mind, almost as if I become a part of them.

Many external stimuli can radically change how I feel. One of them, perhaps the most relevant for me, is water. Whether from a pool or from the ocean, for me water is comfort and peace. The water does not make sudden movements, loud and changing sounds, or sudden changes in temperature. It doesn’t introduce any additional external stimuli. Instead, it remains quiet, and peaceful, and allows me to flow with it. In the water, I can let my heart rate slow down, free my mind from worries, discomforts, and pains. It feels like being in a shelter where I have complete control of the situation, and nothing can disturb me.

However, there are other stimuli from different textures that cause me pain and overwhelm. The sound of a nail clipper, someone touching rough wood, many types of wool, the rubbing of clothing labels, and even Styrofoam cause me great discomfort. They upset me, hurt me, and sometimes make me want to escape the situation as quickly as possible. Some textures make my skin crawl, cause pain in my teeth, and make my eyes fill with tears, similar to the sensation of eating something highly acidic. Many of these textures also give me an electric feeling throughout my body, and they do not let me function normally. I have learned how to hide it, but I cannot make these textures feel comfortable to me.

Many neurodivergent individuals perceive the world in vastly different ways from others. This has nothing to do with seeking attention, justifying our actions, or being spoiled. However, our needs are often misunderstood. Our bodies and minds simply process stimuli in different ways, making some experiences more pleasant and others more uncomfortable. We don’t all have to feel or think the same in order to empathize with each other. It’s not necessary for everyone to fully understand how someone else perceives the world. However, we can all ask one another how to accommodate and support each other, or how to avoid causing discomfort.

By Yamila García

Every time I take a test, I sit down, look at the sheet, and I don’t recognize anything I read. Although I have studied a lot and know the subject very well, as soon as I look at the sheet, everything I studied seems to have been erased. I know it sounds scary; maybe at some point many years ago I could have been nervous about this situation, but not now. Yes, it worries me a little at first, but as soon as I remember that I always work like this, I am sure that I will start to remember. If I still feel anxious about it, I repeat to myself: “It’s coming, it’s coming,” and simply try to rewrite my test questions or the data that they include in the statements.

After so many years as a student, I know that everything I studied will start to come to me after a while. Sometimes I start to remember slowly, but other times everything comes like an avalanche, remembering many things at the same time and at great speed. In the latter case, I tend to write down everything that comes to my mind in a rough draft. Sometimes everything comes so fast that I can confuse things. Once that burst stops, I start working with the notes I made, and it all makes more sense now. The exam becomes doable this way.

As you can imagine, that takes up part of the time I have to do my exam. Sometimes it has taken me up to 1 hour or even more… And it’s hard to keep calm because even if I repeat to myself that this always happens and that “it’s coming,” I start to wonder: “What if it doesn’t this time?” Actually, it has never happened to me that I didn’t remember anything. Always, sooner or later, the information reaches me, and I am able to do my exams. The thing is, in order to have extra time and a quiet place to do my exams, I need to request accommodations. Otherwise, I could not carry out this process in a reduced time and in a shared space with constant noise and movement. Although I am grateful to be able to have accommodations, I wonder how we could have regular exams more accommodating. Maybe some folding panels and some noise-canceling earmuffs available in the classroom could help more people than just the ones with an official diagnosis. I know many people struggle with the same and could take advantage of a more accommodating environment too.

By Yamila García

As someone who discovered being neurodivergent not too long ago, I continue to analyze and discover myself. Through this process, I have gained a deeper understanding of how I unconsciously mask many of my differences. I’ve also noticed that this behavior varies depending on the person I’m interacting with. One aspect I consistently mask is my avoidance of making eye contact. I’ve realized that when I force myself to do so, I blink more frequently, and this only happens with people who are unaware of my neurodivergence. However, when someone is aware and accepting of it, I feel more at ease, allowing myself not to make direct eye contact or occasionally break it to regulate my feelings. Besides, I have also noticed that in the first case, I mask and wish not to, whereas, in the latter, I don’t need to mask, but sometimes I try to make eye contact as a sign of appreciation for the person’s openness and understanding, knowing that it’s often considered a way to show respect.

I’ve noticed that when I don’t fully comprehend what others are saying, I tend to assume a shy and quiet role. Not because that’s truly who I am, but because it’s easier to justify my minimal interaction in such situations. I have heightened sensitivity, and how I communicate often depends almost entirely on the person I’m engaging with. It’s as if I absorb their energy completely. When the other person is calm, understanding, and respectful, I find it much easier to communicate harmoniously. Conversely, if the person comes across as egocentric, arrogant, or pushy, it becomes almost impossible for me to interact effectively. In these instances, my body responds physically, making it difficult to breathe, and I experience a strong urge to escape the situation, leading to an increased heart rate.

Masking is not a conscious choice; it’s a learned behavior that I adopted unconsciously to avoid drawing attention to myself. Perhaps my unconscious thought process was that it’s better to blend in rather than reveal my many differences and face scrutiny. I’m still trying to understand my motivations. What I do know is that becoming aware of when and why I mask helps me better understand myself and empowers me to decide whether I want to continue doing it or not. I’m not saying it’s as simple as pressing a button and turning off this protection mechanism that I’ve created for myself, but I believe that self-awareness is a valuable tool in determining who we want to be, when, and with whom we choose to be that way.

By Yamila García

My ability to recognize patterns allows me to learn in a very different way from most people. Typically, in the classes I have taken, particularly those with a practical component alongside theory, the topics are presented orally, sometimes with accompanying slides displaying formulas or graphs. Then, students are assigned practical exercises. However, I am unable to immediately complete these exercises since I don’t process auditory information automatically. I require time to contemplate the material, and most importantly, I need visual demonstrations in order to identify the logical connections on my own. This is how I learn.

As my eyes wander, scanning the visuals without any apparent order, I search for similarities, connections, and logical patterns. Thus, I get a deeper understanding within seconds, as opposed to spending hours listening to an oral explanation. This learning approach proves highly effective in subjects such as mathematics, chemistry, and physics, as long as the necessary conditions are met. If, on the other hand, I am only provided with an oral explanation without step-by-step guidance, it becomes nearly impossible for me to learn. Additionally, classes in which nothing is logical or deducible are extremely challenging for me. Subjects like history or literature have always presented difficulties for me since there is nothing to deduce, and I must solely rely on the oral explanation.

Based on my unique learning experiences, I wish I could choose how I learn. I believe it is crucial not only to study subjects aligned with our passions but also to learn in the most efficient way for each individual. I am aware that there are others like me, but there are also individuals who learn better through oral theoretical explanations or demonstrations of concepts in laboratory experiments. Considering the limitations of traditional classroom settings, I have consistently felt that I haven’t been able to fully leverage my abilities. Consequently, my performance has often been mediocre. Unfortunately, some people label neurodivergent individuals as disabled, when in reality the incapable is the system that does not know how to take advantage of our abilities.

By Yamila García

When I was little and felt overwhelmed, I would crawl under my desk into a tiny square space. That allowed me to reconnect with myself. I would go in there to watch my favorite cartoons, and gradually I would regain touch with reality. I would calm down and feel ready to resume whatever I was doing before seeking comfort in my little square sanctuary. I’m not sure when I started doing this, but I knew it made me feel safe. Even back then, without knowing I had autism, I instinctively sought ways to alleviate my struggles. I also engaged in soothing behaviors since I was a baby, but I hid them even though there was nothing wrong with them. I simply noticed that others weren’t doing them. One of these behaviors was rubbing a cloth, while another was scratching grooved textures.

Through my childhood experiences, I learned that I needed control. I require things that are familiar and predictable… I need either a small space that I can analyze with the naked eye, a few people to read the expressions of when I speak, the flavors of my food not mixing, etc. Although during my childhood and adolescence, I often believed that others perceived the world like me but were stronger, with time I came to understand that I couldn’t have been more mistaken. The way I perceive the world is very different from how neurotypicals do.

I have encountered people whose expressions revealed an urgent need for what comforts them. I can recognize it because I have experienced it many times myself. That longing to reconnect brings about discomfort and despair. It also evokes embarrassment because it is not easy to accept that you need something as seemingly trivial as a piece of cloth or a fidget toy, a small hiding place, or a particular scent to regain your footing and continue on your way normally. The world may tell you it’s stupid but if, for you, it is necessary, there’s nothing to be ashamed of. Neurodivergent individuals are unique, and thus, we have different methods of processing our emotions. These methods must be acknowledged and shared; otherwise, the world will never be prepared for true inclusion. Do not hide anymore, open up to your friends and family about how you soothe and calm yourself. The more they understand, the better equipped they’ll be to comprehend your needs and support you when necessary.

By Yamila García

Since the day I found out I was neurodivergent, I haven’t stopped learning and reconciling with myself. I carried a lot of guilt for always being so different from others. I didn’t understand myself or know why I felt the way I did, and for that, I blamed myself. Although it may seem contradictory, during my adolescence, I accepted and embraced being different because, in reality, it was impossible for me to hide it. However, I was frustrated by the consequences that this entailed. Being different meant that my social life was always limited by how I perceived the world. If I met someone new, the next time I saw them, I wouldn’t recognize them because I just don’t remember faces. I thought, “I’m so stupid! It’s not that difficult to remember a face…” However, today I know that many of us do not recognize faces because we do not see the big picture first, but the details, just the opposite of how many neurotypicals do. I don’t blame myself anymore for this, but I have also learned to see it as an ability. There are many situations in which it is better to see the details first and then focus on the big picture.

Many of the characteristics of neurodivergents can be interpreted in two different ways: as a flaw or as an ability. The interpretation will depend on who is looking and what perspective they take. I could say that I find it difficult to adapt to the new, or I could also say that I don’t need to buy new things all the time and that, thanks to feeling comfortable with familiar objects, the things that I have last for many years, thereby contributing to the environment. I could also say that I struggle with oral communication, or I could instead say that since I am not talkative, I am good at listening and observing, which makes me empathetic. I could also say that sudden changes affect me, but I can also say that I am actually a very organized person and it works very well when planning. Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that if at any time you feel “failed” or that something in you doesn’t work well, look for that other interpretation. Nothing is all bad; it’s probably just different, but that doesn’t mean there’s no value in it. The world may not yet be ready to appreciate the abilities of neurodivergents, but the first step to changing that is for us to learn to appreciate them ourselves.

By Yamila García

I am one semester away from completing my degree, and it suddenly dawned on me how I managed to survive all those semesters. I believe I was simply somewhat “unaware” of what I was doing. It may sound illogical, but there’s an explanation behind it. My idea of being present many times leads me to want to strive for 100% awareness of all the variables involved, which adds a tremendous emotional burden to my tasks, making it challenging to truly be present. Being neurodivergent, I frequently seek structure, rigidity, and meticulous planning to feel in control of situations. However, when I become a little “unconscious” and focus only on the next step, magic happens. I learned this through a long process of trial and error. On many occasions, my attempts to plan and consider every aspect resulted in accomplishing very little. On the other hand, by surrendering to the moment, I achieved much more. Today, it seems I have finally learned my lesson. In fact, I can’t recall ever thinking about completing my degree. Throughout this journey, the furthest I have thought about is the end of the current semester.

I haven’t completely eliminated anxiety from my thoughts, but by setting shorter-term goals, fears, and doubts have become more manageable. When faced with any challenge necessary to achieve my immediate objectives, I can simply concentrate on that specific task and do what is necessary to overcome it. Often, we burden our minds with concerns about things that are entirely uncertain, things that are far off in the future, or even questionable, whether they will occur at all! However, all we need to do is learn to break down our ultimate goal or problem into smaller, more manageable parts and focus solely on the one that is closest to us. I received this advice long ago, and I am well aware that it is not something easy to accomplish. It has taken me considerable time and numerous mistakes to reach this point. Yet, by adopting this perspective, my anxiety and need for control have become more manageable, and I have achieved more than I realized. Instead of looking at the mountaintop, I now focus on taking the next necessary step to ascend a little further.