In media and film, representations of neurodivergence, more specifically autism (ASD), often manifest as the off the wall uncaring savant, with an abundance of specific knowledge but who is unable to think outside the box. In addition to contributing to reductive and inaccurate generalisations about the experiences and needs of neurodivergent people, the overuse of this stereotype overlooks the link between neurodivergence and creativity.
Because of the difficulty neurodivergent individuals can often face when trying to conform in neurotypical settings, neurodivergence has traditionally been viewed as a “mental deficiency”, something that should be “fixed”. Yet research is increasingly disproving this, particularly in settings requiring a departure from narrow conventions.
A recent study published by the US National Library of Medicine showed that neurotypical participants were more inclined to copy each other when given a creative brief. Neurodivergent participants, on the other hand, exhibited greater creativity, demonstrating an originality in their models. It is this divergence from the typical that makes neurodiverse perspectives so valuable.
Dr. Kai Syng Tan offers one such perspective. Having graduated top of her class at Slade School of Fine Art, later earning a Master’s degree and a PHD, she was diagnosed with ADHD, autism, dyslexia, and dyspraxia. Her accolades won her a residency at King’s College London, the first role of its kind. KCL commissioned her most accredited work, Magic Carpet (2017) – a brightly coloured tapestry dotted with words like “disorderly,” “digression,” and “detour,” it represents a powerful jailbreak from the constraints of masking and offers a window into the alternate pathways of a neurodivergent mind.
Tan describes sleepless nights reading textbooks over and over in order to complete assignments, barely having the time to eat. This experience, particularly at school and in the workplace, is all too common amongst undiagnosed neurodivergent women, whose conditions present differently to male counterparts, excluding them from diagnosis and access to crucial support.
Support for neurodivergent individuals is often standardized, not considering specific needs that vary from person to person, and the access process involves a surplus of admin. On top of this, those who are neurodivergent are also more likely to face bullying and socially excluded.
Neurodivergent artists are of course able to achieve recognition and make a living from their work via other routes. Organisations like ArtLifting, which connects disabled artists with exhibition venues to create accessible economic opportunities, can aid this. It was through ArtLifting that artist Wiley Johnson was able to make a living from his painting. Art had become an important emotional outlet for Johnson after he was unable to find employment that could accommodate his needs once he graduated school.
The support of such organisations is crucial, but accommodating neurodivergent people should not be made the remit of charities. Universities and employers must prioritise accommodating disabled students’ or employees’ needs. Institutions must also recognise that talent can be cultivated by passion and practice, not just formal teaching.
Placing excessive academic prerequisites on creative opportunities excludes highly talented neurodiverse individuals who have been unable to complete higher education because of its inaccessibility. It was Tan’s struggle through academia that won her recognition and success, but for many neurodivergent individuals, barriers within higher education, which have not yet been broken down, are insurmountable, making this success difficult to achieve.
These barriers continue into creative workplaces. A study by NEUK Collective, an advocacy group for neurodivergent artists, reveals the extent of difficulties they faced. The interviewed artists suggested a number of support measures they felt they were missing out on: access to quiet workspaces, administrative assistance finding studio spaces and writing applications, flexible deadlines that recognised their needs for greater processing time or breaks, to name a few. Another common suggestion was the streamlining of information, such as a singular website where all charities and organisations could post their resources, or debureaucratization of access to support, as the process of trying to find support resources for many had become a challenge in itself.
In 2011 writer Mia Mingus coined the term “access intimacy” to describe the validating feeling of having your needs completely accepted and then met. Asking how to meet those needs, rather than prescribing a one-size-fits-all set of accommodations, is often the surest way to instil this feeling. Although specific requirements differ from person to person, the solutions suggested by NEUK’s study represent easy-to-implement starting points to make working in the arts more inclusive.
Above all, the arts must forgo its academic elitism and accept that “academic” credentials are often not the best measure of talent.
“ADHD Umbrella Project 2018 Neurodiversity Autism” by printkick is licensed under CC BY 2.0.