Autism in Education

I didn't really enjoy education until I entered University, I found from the ages of eight to nineteen that people around me were not sincere, and that bothered me. Especially as someone who is upfront with people right from the get-go. I didn't recieve a diagnosis for my autism until I was twenty-eight, therefore I spent a lot of the time feeling like I was Quozzy Modo. Someone who people tolerated, but did not officially see. At the time I was still trying to tolerate myself. I developed depression when I was fifteen, was bullied all the way through primary and secondary school, and the people who I thought were my friends in college had one of their boyfriends text me pretending they were interested in a romantic relationship with me. I was humiliated when one of them told me that they would sit in class laughing at the messages when I wasn't around, and the self-confidence and the trust I had built, after two years of being so-called-friends with these people, dissolved. Like a light switch. Once the course was over I left and went on with my life. I haven't seen them all since.

Despite the atrocious experiences I had I carried on with my education in my mid-twenties. I've been a student at Leeds Beckett University since 2016, and I have become accustomed to the layout, the expectations, the computer systems, and the support I have gained throughout my studies since 2019 (after my diagnosis). It was hard at first to let people inside my safe space, my bubble, but doing so opened me up to new opportunities, and meeting new people - no matter how hard it was for me. Being an academic is partly about making connections, not just with your research but with poeple also so you can adapt ideas together, and share work which benefits the field you work in. Socially I am inept and keep to myself. But I have adapted how I work to benefit myself (as well as due to covid). I do everything electronically, I book lectures, seminars, and join in on opportunities which have minimal contact with people. Most recently I have been accepted to present, and answer questions, about my research study for ten minutes. I have calculated I will need five minutes to talk through my academic poster and then the remaining five minutes will be for questions. So, technically, I'll only need to talk for five minutes, and this type of planning helps me to relax and function without too much anxiety. The audience will be focusing their attention on the poster rather than myself which was the reason behind my thinking of creating an academic poster in the first place. Everything I do I do to minimise stress. Friends-wise I keep to myself. I join an online research society chat now and then to try and network and listen to the work of others. I connect with people with similar interests in my field. For example, a couple of autistic female students are writing, and illustrating, a book for children about autism in women. We were introduced by our mutual friend (skills mentor) and we talk frequently about our lives and the progress of our work. I find socialising with people on the spectrum easier than neurotypical people. We don't expect eye contact, vague discussions, or lots of metaphors. We say what we mean, even bluntly, and we don't take offence easily. Our special interests differ but I have some friends (I play Tag Rugby for the Castleford Tigers Learning Disability Team) who I play with on the PlayStation 4 and one who I simply text with on a regular basis.

The work I do, at the moment as I'm in the first year of my study, is mostly reading and writing my proposal for ethical approval. A PhD is three to four years long full time and you are completely in control of your own learning. This, I admit, is rather new to me. I'm used to a schedule telling me when and where I need to be. However, I've made my own schedule to give myself a little bit of guidance, as well as importing all seminars and lectures to the calender on Teams.

Then I can use the reading and writing of my thesis to fill in the free time around those appointments. The referencing tool Menderley is very useful to keep the collection of research papers I've been reading organised in folders by topic.

On my blog I have a referencing guide to Menderley if you would like to take a look.

All in all, University has built my confidence, developed my skills in academia, writing and art, and allowed me to pursue a career which I never thought would be an option to me. But here I am, an autistic woman doing a PhD specialising in comic studies, feminism and semiotics, and attempting to pursue some art work commissions. If you had told me a few years ago this is what I would be doing I don't think I would have believed you. And that is what's sad. Autism is seen as a deficit, something which limits ones capabilities. You are either Sheldon Cooper from the Big Bang Theory (a genius in the sciences with minimal social abilities) or Ray Babbitt from Rain Man (a genius with numbers but can't comprehend the value of money. Someone who can't function at all), there is no in between represented within popular culture. But that's a story for another day. People forget that the autism spectrum is exactly that - a spectrum. A rainbow of various colours of traits and abilities which expands further than science. I am terrible at Maths, but I can sit and draw a comic well. I don't know much about physics, but I can write a twenty-five thousand word piece of creative writing on my WattPad profile. I don't like being touched without being asked permission first, but I consider myself a very thoughtful person when it comes to giving birthday gifts (I'm creating a comic style portrait of my brother and me for his birthday this month). But I am just one example. I'm an individual, as are others on the spectrum. Some may hate the environment of educational institutions, but love working with their hands to share their creativity, or mechanical skills.

The Spectrum is Endless.

A xx