Losing labels

We were sitting in the room reviewing the offline version of the newest advert.

'You mentioned that you included special needs kids in the ad.'

'Yes.'

'But we did not see any.'

'You did.'

Confusion.

'Out of 5 kids two had invisible conditions, for example one was on Autistic spectrum disorder.'

'Which one?'

'Let's watch it again and you let me know.'

I was teasing my colleagues now, but creating this advertisement was not an easy process. Together with our creative agency we discussed endlessly how to approach it. I had a strong point of view on this one, but it's because I have had that discussion on repeat with numerous mums of kids on ASD.

'I don't want random people to think that my son is just naughty or that I am a bad mother. So if we go out I put a t-Shirt on him that states that he is autistic.' That was one of them. Another one decided to put a more discreet bracelet stating the same. I heard there is a movement in one country encouraging parents to put on the kids with ASD pins in the shape of daisies for 'easy identification'.

'You tell me a lot about parents of kids with autism in the workplace. But I never hear from adults with autism who work in my company.' I heard once as well. 'How do you know? Maybe you work with one every day, they just don't tell you.' 'Why wouldn't they?' 'So that they'd stay your finance manager or marketing associate or sales rep, not your AUTISTIC finance manager, etc...'

So when we were shooting that advert, my point of view was to show the kids how they are. Bring the clothes you're comfortable to wear, sit together and just play. 'Why do you bother then recruiting cast with various needs? Shouldn't we give them a t-Shirt?' 'Cause I don't care for the audience to clap for our inclusion. I care for the kid to feel part of the game. To feel empowered and accepted the way they are. That is the only thing that matters.'

Every day you meet people that struggle with invisible challenges. Some are more temporary or relatively easy to address. They fought with their spouse at home. They have a migraine. Some are more challenging. Mental health issues. Grief after losing someone close to them. And then, there are in-born features, that are just a part of who we are. Autistic Spectrum disorder is one of them.

My daughter is almost eight by now. She looks like a regular kid, but as she ages she stands out from the crowd more and more. When she was three or four it was easy for people to accept she did not respond when they talked to her in public. It is far more difficult for them to acknowledge a seven year old who communicates with what looks like random sounds or just single words that may mean little to the 'general public'. The sounds or words that only mum or dad can guess intention of. It's the age when I start seeing other kids making fun of her or rejecting her. And when I tell people how amazing she is as a swimmer or how artistic mind she has, they look at me with either 'you're crazy' or 'I feel sorry for you, poor thing' labels.

The same look you would give your co-worker if they'd tell you they're on spectrum. That is why they don't tell you. Ask yourself, what would you do with that knowledge if you had it? What would be your first follow-up question?

When Olivia was 5, she was attending just the best kindergarten in the world. It was run by Miss Lisa who was one of few who did not mind taking in kids with extra needs and mixing up everyone together, attending to different needs. When Olivia could not sit in the circle time, she was allowed to stand up and sit with her book a bit further from others, if this is what made her more comfortable. They assigned to her another child from the group as a buddy, a little girl with a caring nature, who was responsible (and very proud of that 'duty') to include Olivia in their free-time games. At one point Olivia was refusing to wear any other clothes than a Batman suit. Attempt to try any other clothes was finishing with a big meltdown. I asked Miss Lisa if it's ok she wears it to the kindergarten, as all kids had school uniforms. To my relief, she agreed to that. After couple of days, when I came to pick her up I saw all kids wearing super hero uniforms. 'They all want to do that now.' The teacher told me. 'She started a new trend.'

My proposal for you for the follow up question if someone at work tells you 'I am on ASD' (or any other, invisible condition as a matter of fact) would be 'Is there anything I could be more considerate of?' Maybe the person needs more flexible work - maybe it is a living hell for them to work in an open space environment and they need either a quiet desk or work from home more? Maybe they can't sit through the 4 hours (or even one hour) meeting in the room and they need to stand up and walk every now and then? Maybe they prefer to communicate through email rather than phone call? Maybe they need space to tell their story to other co-workers or maybe they don't. Maybe they need understanding that the way they express themselves is not cold, technical or offensive. Maybe they just talk differently and others also could learn how to read it.

Believe me, any person on the spectrum of autism spends hours practicing how to fit into the 'neurotypical' world. They force themselves into style of functioning that is not natural or comfortable for them, just to seem 'normal', just to 'blend in'. Imagine you're getting a promotion and your manager tells you 'good job, you made it to senior consultant despite being tall.' Sounds funny, right? The purpose of inclusion is not to let people on ASD 'come out' and be labeled forever. The real inclusion is when we are giving space for people to be their true selves, communicate their needs rather than condition and are ok with someone walking around the room while everyone else is sitting. It is not about getting PR points for being an inclusive organization on paper. It's about every individual - and if they really feel the acknowledged, respected, part of your team.