As a researcher in autism and education and a former secondary school teacher, it took me a while to realise that autistic school staff were rarely included in conversations about inclusion and diversity in schools.
With colleagues, I started the Autistic School Staff Project in 2019, focusing on the experiences, needs and aptitudes of autistic teachers and other education staff.
Our findings show that autistic school staff can experience significant sensory issues in school. These can be from bright, flickering lights, odours from the canteen, and crowding in corridors or during meetings. The greatest impact of all comes from noise: shouting from children and staff during break times, the clang of the school bell and the roar of traffic when windows are open in the summer.
Interestingly, it’s not only a question of volume levels. Whispering from children and humming from technology can also be highly distracting and contribute to feelings of fatigue and overload.
Autistic teachers also told us that the ways neurotypical colleagues communicated and interacted with them could be disorientating and exclusionary. Staff meetings that seemed to lack focus, chit-chats in the school corridor, gossip and school politics could be experienced as confusing and irrelevant.
At the same time, autistic teachers felt their own communication style of being direct and to the point could be misunderstood as rudeness. Similarly, staff social events were often not enjoyed by autistic teachers, even though neurotypical colleagues seemed to really rate them. Changes announced at the last minute by the school leadership team, with instructions that did not seem to make sense, could be highly stressful for autistic teachers. Covering for absent teachers was also found to be very unsettling.
Shutterstock
Most tellingly, a number of participants felt they could not be open about being autistic. A key reason for this concerned negative and stigmatising attitudes towards autism that they had to face in school. The teachers also said that autistic children could be poorly treated. Autistic teachers sometimes had to sit through autism training, conducted on the assumption that no-one present was autistic, where the same negative attitudes were evident.
As a result, autistic school staff could be extremely wary about sharing with anyone that they were autistic. They worried that this information would have a negative impact on their careers. Suppressing an autistic identity, known as masking, has been linked with mental health issues.
While some of our participants had been able to disclose being autistic in school, and had even had a good experience of this, others said that it had made life even harder. This was because attitudes would change towards them in a negative way, or they might not even be believed.
Passion and support
Fortunately, a number of positives also came out of our study. Monotropism – a key autistic trait that denotes a tendency to have very intense interests – can mean that autistic teachers develop strong subject expertise and teach with passion. Even the job itself links with monotropic tendencies, as autistic teachers told us that they loved their work and were highly motivated by it. In addition, autistic teachers felt that they were very thorough and organised.
Above all, autistic teachers felt they were making a significant contribution to supporting inclusion in school. They were sensitive to the needs of neurodivergent children and others at risk of marginalisation, and were willing to try alternative approaches with children who were struggling. One teacher said:
I never gave up on a child because I think probably too many people gave up on me. I could see myself in a lot of the children.
In addition, some of those who had been open about being autistic were valued by colleagues because of their insights in relation to neurodiversity. Autistic teachers also felt that they could be a role model for autistic children and their parents.
Autistic teachers are a valuable part of the school workforce and are already making an important contribution to inclusion. However, it’s important to remove the barriers they can face across their careers.
This includes providing more flexibility and support for autistic student teachers. Making recruitment practices inclusive and accessible – such as by providing questions in advance, and offering in-person and remote options for interviews – would also benefit autistic teachers, as would developing neurodiversity-inclusive school communities.
Participants were clear that autism training should be run by autistic people, and that withdrawing to a quiet space should not be misinterpreted by colleagues as being anti-social. Addressing the sensory impacts of schools would benefit both children and staff. Providing staff with agency in decision-making can be empowering. We also need to reconsider the conventional role of the teacher, and question if the current format of standard duties, such as parents’ evenings and covering for absent colleagues, should be re-evaluated through a neurodiversity-inclusive lens.
