A rant on neurodiversity + equity
I’ve thought long and hard about whether or not to share this rant. And I just can’t keep it in, so I’m going to let it rip.
A few weeks ago, my son’s basketball coach benched him for all but 3 minutes and 20 seconds of a game. My son was furious and defeated and didn’t understand why. He assumed it was because his coach just “has it in for me.” When I inquired via email about what’s going on, the coach told us that Ollie isn’t coming to practice and, when he is there, he’s talking and joking around all of the time and is taking up a disproportionate amount of coaching time to catch him up.
It’s important that you understand that this is town basketball and the team has won only one game all season. This is not an elite and competitive situation. I am going to back it up and give you some background and then I am going to point out all of the egregious management and leadership faux paus that happened leading up to this moment.
Let’s start here: My son is 13 years old and has two forms of ADHD (Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder): inattentive and hyperactive. This means that his mind wanders and his body moves constantly. He loves basketball, basketball culture, and is obsessed with Nike. School is really wicked hard for him. He takes medication every day to help him focus. He uses every ounce of will power every day to try to operate in a neurotypical environment. His medication is an appetite suppressant and so, around 4:00 PM his meds wear off and he becomes famished, not having eaten all day.
Also important context: I’m a single mom and CEO (which I think you know) and one of my super-powers is being an early riser, which allows me to get everything done. It also means I turn into a pumpkin around 9 PM in order to wake up again at 5 AM.
Now let’s break down what went wrong here.
The basketball practices were too late. Practices were scheduled on Monday and Wednesday evenings. Monday evening practices were from 8:00 - 9:30 PM; Wednesdays were from 7:00 - 8:30 PM. For a kid with neurodiversity, this is an impossible hour for a billion reasons. The first of which is that he is operating on fumes at this point, having worn through all of his self-restraint at school - and all of his meds. He also needs at least an hour to help his body and mind wind down from the day to be able to create the conditions possible for sleep. This is a brutal set-up from the start. It’s way too late to go to bed at 11 PM on a Monday night for my son - and, quite frankly, for me too. It’s too big of an ask for me to start my week off tired because I have to pick him up and help him unwind. If you can’t move the practice, then find an alternative way for my son to participate.
The coach talks too much. The coach liked to have a lot of team strategy conversations. If you’re going to engage teen boys at that hour - you have to keep them engaged. And if you’re going to keep a thirteen year old boy with two forms of ADHD from moving and talking and joking, then you need to change the way YOU are designing practice as the coach. You have to keep the kids moving and having fun. Instead of continually reminding my kid to be quiet and stay focused, what if the coach looked at himself and asked “how can I design a better practice to help everyone learn and thrive?”
The coach made a lot of assumptions instead of getting curious. What if the coach had reached out to me and said “Hey, I noticed Ollie’s missing basketball practices on Mondays. What’s going on? How can I help him get there or catch him up?” I sent him multiple messages early on making it clear this was really really hard for us. There are a billion ways we could have collaborated. He could have helped me coordinate a carpool with another family on the team. He could have leaned in and found a way to meet us where we are. Instead he punished a player on his team by benching him. Also, this is not something a 13 year old kid can change. Not until he can drive himself. It’s not fair to punish him for not being able to transport himself, illegally.
He didn’t explain why. The coach left a thirteen year old sitting on a bench wondering what was going on and worrying that he did something wrong. What if the coach asked Ollie how practices were going and opened up a line of communication with him - and me - to provide us with an opportunity to learn about his neurodiversity. What if he took even an ounce of curiosity to better understand how Ollie’s brain works so he can not shame him, but understand him.
As a mother, I tried to kill the coach with kindness and wrote one of those gracious “thank you for everything you’ve done for my son” emails that was actually a royal F-you. The coach didn’t pick up on my subtle enrage. And I was proud of my chef’s kiss finale in which I told him that I never want my child to feel shame for having ADHD which is why we are quitting basketball for the rest of the season (with my son’s 100% support, of course).
So why am I sharing this here? Well, I really needed to get this off my chest (thanks for listening). But also, as a coach for leaders and managers, it was beyond painful to experience how much it sucks when managers get it so wrong - and with my kid nonetheless.
Here’s what the coach could have done instead:
Create a psychologically safe environment so that individuals on your team feel that they can share important information about who they are so you can meet them where they are and support them.
Get curious. Before jumping to conclusions, ask questions. Collect data. Refrain from judgement until you better understand what’s actually happening.
Look in the mirror. Instead of assuming someone else is to blame for not meeting your expectations, ask yourself “Have I created a situation in which others are capable of succeeding?” Have I been clear? Have I designed a set-up that will enable others to thrive?
Differentiate + meet people where they are. Everyone is different. You can’t assume that all people need the same things. You have to meet people where they are. Even the highest performing people on your team need for you to know how to leverage their strengths and support them through their weaknesses. Great managers know that equality is old school and equity is what it’s all about now.
In the bio + climate startup ecosystem, it’s pretty safe to say that you have a few neurodiverse folks on your team. These teammates may or may not have formal diagnosis. Much like my son, neurodiversity is a true super power. You will be lucky to have neurodiverse talent on your team because they are often the most out-of-the-box innovative people like my son, who is wildly creative and an incredible problem-solver. Back when he was a kid, he told me we should jump-start my car by putting a whole bunch of fish in a bucket and channeling their wiggly energy into energy for our car. I have no idea if that’s possible but if it is, one of you should start working on this right now.
You have to create an environment for neurodiverse talent to shine - and never ever shame them for their unique internal wiring.
Rant over.
