Supporting and Understanding Teachers on the Autism Spectrum

There are many members of school staff across Scotland who have an autism diagnosis. In this blog, one teacher shares her experience of being diagnosed in adulthood.

Six years ago, around eight years into my teaching career and a few months before I turned 30, I approached my GP for help with what I thought was social anxiety. What followed on from this initial appointment was 18 months of referrals and assessments and eventually, a diagnosis of Autism Spectrum Disorder. 

Until that point, my only experience of autism was working with children and young people who were on the spectrum. I saw some of the ways that it presented: executive function difficulties, restrictive and repetitive behaviour and delayed language development, for example. I didn’t face any of those barriers and therefore didn’t feel like I – and I know this is an odd word to use – deserved the diagnosis. I felt like a fraud. Since then, I have spoken to many other late-diagnosed adults and have discovered that this isn’t an uncommon feeling.

It’s a Spectrum, Not a Gradient 

Despite the clue being in the name, my own limited understanding of the ‘spectrum’ part of Autism Spectrum Disorder stopped me from feeling like I could share my diagnosis. I couldn’t see where I fit into a world where I had subconsciously divided people with autism into those unable to manage their lives independently and those considered geniuses. I belonged to neither of these groups. I now know that this perception of autism was wrong, but it was something I really struggled with at the time. 

In the year following my diagnosis I went into hyper-research mode. One of the things that I came to understand was that the spectrum is not simply a straight line starting at ‘mild’ and reaching ‘severe’; there is much more to it than that. 

The best visual representation I have seen of the autism spectrum looks like an audio mixer or sound board. There are sliders for eye contact, non-verbal, sensory overload, routines, literal thinking and obsessive interests among others. Each person on the spectrum will have their sliders in different positions depending on their own challenges and strengths, which can change over time. For me, this really demonstrates the idea that if you have met one person with autism, you really have only met one person with autism; our needs are as individual as anyone else. 

Masking and Anxiety 

Through my research, I learned that making it to adulthood undiagnosed for so long can cause untold amounts of anxiety. People with undiagnosed ASD often spend their lives unknowingly perfecting the skill of ‘masking’; putting on a confident front in an attempt to ‘fit in’. They watch others, taking in what they say, how they say it, how they stand or sit and try to copy them, in an attempt to appear at ease and socially comfortable. The feeling of always being on the edge of unwittingly doing something wrong is always there and that in itself is a huge cause of anxiety. 

The Language of Autism 

As with most topics where research is ongoing, the language we use to describe autism has changed over the years. There are many issues that are debated within the autistic community and one example of this is use of the phrase ‘mild’ or ‘high-functioning’ autism. Use of these phrases can risk minimising the challenges that someone may face. I think that this quote from Adam Walton really demonstrates the problem with the phrase:

“[So-called] mild autism doesn’t mean one experiences autism mildly… It means YOU experience their autism mildly. You may not know how hard they’ve had to work to get to the level they are.”

For me, as long as someone isn’t being intentionally offensive or speaking on behalf of the autistic community without consulting those in it, I am happy to open a dialogue with them and try my best to educate and inform. It’s important to remember though, that every autistic person is different and what one person may prefer won’t suit everyone. 

How Can We Support Autistic Teachers?

Earlier this year, I attended an EIS conference for disabled workers and I was blown away by the amount of teachers in Scottish schools who also have an ASD diagnosis. It was strangely comforting to know that there are lots of other members of school staff across Scotland who experience the exact same challenges as I do. I have since spoken to a few people who were involved in the conference and found that there was one thing that we all wanted: more openness and understanding of adults with autism and the specific challenges that they face. 

To anyone who finds themselves having someone share  with them that they have an ASD diagnosis: listen to them. Really listen. The decision to share something so personal is huge and it can be damaging for that to be met with doubt or disbelief.

Every autistic person is different and the support that one person might need won’t be what someone else needs. Neurotypical or neurodiverse, our needs all vary. All we can do is be open, honest and understanding while doing our best to accept and celebrate what makes each of us who we are.