Have you ever had a million thoughts rushing at you all at once? Found yourself pacing while talking to somebody on the telephone? Get easily distracted and skip over crucial information in a letter or email? Constantly misplace things and find yourself chronically running late for appointments?

We might all experience what I described above at one point or another. However, it’s when these quirks or idiosyncrasies routinely impact your life, and your ability to hold a job or maintain a relationship, that it might be worth considering whether you are neurodivergent.

I completed this World Health Organisation survey, consulted my GP and now have a formal ADHD assessment scheduled for November.

Neurodivergence is an umbrella term for a range of medical ‘disorders’ and learning ‘difficulties’ that stem from how the brain works. Since I am not a neuropsychologist, I can only comment on the lived experience of being assessed and trying to manage how the world interfaces with neurodivergent people. And this journey began not with my own referral for an ADHD assessment. My journey started with my son’s teacher recommending that he be assessed for either Auditory Processing Disorder or for Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD).

The teacher’s intuition proved to be correct. Three months ago, my son was formally assessed, by a ‘multidisciplinary team’, as having met the criteria for ASD according to the American Psychiatric Association’s Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, Fifth Edition or DSM-5 for short.

Ordinarily, I hate labels. They strike me as things that put humans into restrictive boxes. And I still bristle at terms like ‘disorder’ and, worst of all, ’emotional dysregulation’. That’s why I prefer to leave such terms in quotation marks – to remind people they are terms. However, I have also come to the conclusion that, unfortunately, we need some of the labels in question. To paraphrase someone who runs a support group for families with ‘additional needs’ (a formulation I like because it suggests we all have needs): ‘Unfortunately, we need labels such as neurodivergence because society and its institutions are organised for neurotypical people.’

It took me some time to process her comment. It’s hard to get your head around it. Basic social institutions like schools, workplaces, bureaucratic, financial and health services, and such everyday spaces as supermarkets, cinemas, restaurants and school classrooms, are unconsciously designed with neurotypicality in mind. This ‘neuro non-level playing field’ impacts whether individuals can participate in everyday activities the rest of society takes for granted. Unfortunately, the non-level playing field also means that neurodivergent people are judged by the standards and implicit value-judgements of neurotypical society.

Let me point to an area where the non-level playing field could be said to be present – namely, school attendance. The first thing to realise is not all neurodivergent kids are the same. So, for some, school attendance and getting through a whole day of school will be manageable – especially if their families have the necessary supports in place. But they may struggle to integrate themselves into classroom group work and may stand at the periphery of play during recess or lunchtime.

Additionally, as a recent article in The Guardian reported, there are a number of neurodivergent and other kids who are prone to ‘school reluctance’ if not ‘refusal’. In these situations, parents of neurodivergent kids are often negotiating their child’s attendance and learning patterns through adversarial ‘Parent Meetings’. One Facebook private group for parents of neurodivergent pupils is named, ‘School can’t not school won’t’. The name says it all: don’t turn school attendance into a question of willpower and implicit moral failure. Listen to why kids don’t want to attend.

Then there is the danger of neurodivergent kids, when they do attend, being turned into ‘problem kids’. I have no hard data but I fear neurodivergent kids are being sent home and/or suspended/expelled at greater rates than their neurotypical counterparts. I know life wasn’t meant to be easy but imagine a situation where you are judged as deficient if you don’t attend school, and sent home if your behaviour doesn’t meet neurotypical standards.

These are not easy issues and I’m not trying to speak on behalf of something as complex as the neurodivergent community. As stated above, our household is in the early stages of its neurodivergent journey. But there’s a lot at stake here for people who are wired differently, and their families.

It’s great that South Australia now has an Assistant Minister for Autism and there are reports the Federal Government is planning to include ADHD in the NDIS. I just hope neuroinclusivity and neurojustice will be built into all the processes whereby society engages with the neurodivergent community. It can only be win-win if neurotypicals learn to understand and empathise with neurodivergent individuals and their families, and if neurodivergent people are allowed to flourish and show what they can offer society.

It would be a cruel irony if, in an era where ‘divergent thinking’ has become a catchphrase, neurodivergent people were unintentionally relegated to second-class citizens.

I can’t pre-empt what my assessment for Adult ADHD in November will conclude. But I can attest that, in my short time in the neurodivergent community, I have found a warm, caring and humorous tribe. I hope the experiences and stories of this tribe are taken seriously as society becomes more aware of such issues.

Eduardo de la Fuente is Adjunct Senior Lecturer, Justice and Society, University of South Australia, and Fellow of the Institute for Place Management, Manchester Metropolitan University.