Thursday 23 August 2018

Dyspraxia, Self-Confidence and Me


Being blessed with “the gift” of a moderate form of dyspraxia has meant and still means having to navigate the challenge of social engagement and getting my use of language on-point. When I was younger I used to be quite shy when in a group scenario, especially at school because I was afraid of saying the wrong thing or using incorrect grammar. I have been known to swap words around in a sentence and adding fillers into my speech when not really necessary, usually to allow my brain some time to bring a conversation back on topic. Using the same adjective or adverb several times during the course of a conversation is a defence or coping mechanism for me- a way of indicating I have understood what has been said by an interlocutor or a way of eliciting a response without being too overt about it. “Absolutely” seems to be one of my favourite go-to adverbs to demonstrate my understanding of a topic or agreement with a statement. When used alongside a low pitch/tone of voice and affirmative facial expressions and eye-contact it can be way of sounding confident even when you may not feel confident inside.

My level of self-confidence, as I've blogged about countless times has been up and down. It can be affected by negative conversations and being put into uncomfortable or unfamiliar situations: for example, if I'm talking to a group of young people about a topic I have knowledge of and passion for- like raising awareness of dyspraxia, I tend to feel less tense, less needy of crutch words and behaviours and more able to structure sentences to get my point across. However, when I am speaking to a group of high-powered professionals, who may not have much understanding of neurodiverse conditions or may have expectations of listening to a flawless presentation (or at least how I perceive flawless to be, as no presentation ever happens without incident), I have been known to get tongue-tied, avoid eye-contact and nervous for the questions that follow.

Young people with dyspraxia, otherwise known as Developmental Coordination Disorder or DCD for short regularly experience dips in self-confidence as a result of engaging in presentation delivery. Pratt and Hill (2011) conducted research with young people with DCD and found that they “experience high levels of ‘panic anxiety’ when faced by a task that they have previously found challenging (Pratt and Hill 2011), leading to avoidance behaviour” (https://dyspraxiafoundation.org.uk/wp-content/uploads/2017/02/Dyspraxia-Mental-Health-Consultation-March-2016.pdf). I found speaking about scientific subjects much more difficult than talking about poetry, prose or plays in the first years of secondary school so I would try and avoid taking part in class discussions in Science, Technology, ICT, Maths and Graphic Design by taking notes and avoiding eye-contact with the teacher. When I was asked to deliver a presentation I would use the PowerPoint presentation I created as a prop to keep my speech on track but I'd often digress onto different subjects, which must have been quite frustrating for some of my peers! Thanks to working with my English, Drama and Modern Foreign Language teachers I managed to build my self-confidence to the point where I could speak without being prompted but the digression element really hasn't gone away! The extra effort required to get to that point was draining and I never would have managed it without tailored support and my parents and friends willing me on. This feeling of being overwhelmed seems to be quite common amongst children and young people with DCD: Missiuna, Moll et al (2007) found that parents of children with DCD have reported that their children have felt overwhelmed “because of the expectations and work required of them and ‘mask’ their problems by putting in extra effort so that that their difficulties weren’t noticed” (https://dyspraxiafoundation.org.uk/wp-content/uploads/2017/02/Dyspraxia-Mental-Health-Consultation-March-2016.pdf).

Anxiety has been a mental health concern that has dominated much of my life. I get anxious over the most silliest of things – if I forget a pen to make notes at a meeting I'm worried about forgetting everything at that meeting and if I don't note nearly everything down I think I'm going to forget what was said or misinterpret it and upset someone. I'm perpetually worried about missing buses and trains and tripping up on the steps or getting stuck in the door. Fear of getting the wrong bus or train or missing the last train or bus has meant I am more reluctant to attend events outside Lincoln alone.
I've thought so many times that I'm blocking everyone's way by standing awkwardly or sitting in the wrong place and when I do get something wrong I can focus my attention on reflecting on that action for far longer than is necessary. I don't want to feel like a burden but when you've felt like you are being a burden to others you care about for so long, it's difficult to shake that feeling off. It makes you feel like shit and it's in those moments you need to have friends and family around to talk to.

I experienced social isolation throughout my teenage years and young adulthood, partly as a result of not having been pro-active and going out to clubs, taking part in leisure activities and joining societies, partly as a result of socio-economic circumstances and the stigma associated with that (I think Universal Credit advisors need to continue to promote volunteering, participation in job clubs and taking part in free events in the local area to challenge that sense of self-stigmatisation) and partly as a result of fearing what circumstances I could have found myself in. I have been fortunate to meet some amazing, non-judgmental folks over the past few years but it's been a hard journey. Young dyspraxic people living in rural Lincolnshire must have found and continue to find it tougher to engage in social activities due to public transport issues and/or socially conservative attitudes of their parents, guardians and carers and I do worry about overall levels of youth social isolation and loneliness. Social media plays it part in keeping young people connected and there are YouTube videos and stars that young people can turn to for advice and guidance for when they do feel lonely but I've met young people who still feel incredibly lonely. One young guy I met who is dyspraxic felt that he couldn't meet up and play football with his schoolmates because he didn't want to be judged for not being able to catch the ball (he said he often finds himself put in the goalie position at school so that he doesn't “wander all over the place” or “slow the game down”). Teachers, pastoral care staff, professionals with knowledge of neurodiverse conditions and parents, guardians and carers all have a role to play in reducing social isolation and improving inclusion of neurodiverse young people in sports and creative activities. This includes teaching young people about neurodiversity in Science and in PSHE lessons. The Dyspraxia Foundation undertook a Youth Mental Health Consultation back in 2016 and the report found that young people with dyspraxia often felt that lack of understanding about dyspraxia “added to their sense of feeling different” (https://dyspraxiafoundation.org.uk/wp-content/uploads/2017/02/Dyspraxia-Mental-Health-Consultation-March-2016.pdf). If young people understand to some extent what their peers with dyspraxia are going through, the anxiety they face and the extra effort they put in to participate, they may adapt slightly the sports and creative activities they engage in (e.g. slowing down the football game slightly or reminding their friend to bring pen and pencil grips for drawing) so they can be inclusive.

When I was growing up I never knew anyone who had been diagnosed with dyspraxia as early as me (I was diagnosed initially aged 6 following consultation with educational psychologists and following an referral by my primary school psychologist). Nobody openly discussed having dyspraxia and I never read about anyone who was dyspraxic or saw anyone on TV or in films who said they were dyspraxic. It was almost like it was a condition you had to avoid talking about for fear of being singled out. I really hope that will change in the future, with more fictional book, TV and film characters being created who happen to be neurodiverse and with more documentaries being produced on neurodiverse conditions and I'd be more than happy to give advice on this (wink wink, nudge nudge shameless plug).

Even when I was at mainstream secondary school and no longer needed a SENCO or Occupational Therapist to support me on a daily basis I felt different. At times during Year 7 and 8 I felt like I didn't belong in the school at all; that somehow my acceptance had been a fluke and that I consistently and consciously had to show grateful thanks to the teachers for allowing me to have a space and pretty much take on board what they said as gospel truth. I remember my Mum telling me that my Year 7 RE teacher said that my chances of getting a Grade C in English and Maths at GCSE (Grade 4/5 nowadays) was pretty much non-existent let alone getting one in RE and yet through sheer hard graft and hours and hours of studying after-school I ended proving him wrong, getting my A* in English Lit and RE and going on to study both alongside English Language, French, German and General Studies at A-Level and then studying English and Philosophy at the University of York. Believe me, with tailored support and the determination to succeed, you can achieve. I still think of Mr Year 7 RE teacher with a wry smile and utter a “you were wrong” under my breath. I really try not to gloat or revel in other people's mistaken beliefs but sometimes I just can't help it. We're only human after all.

As the years went on I began to realise that what made me different was far more than my dyspraxia and my gender and actually that it was OK to be seen as different, as unique. The anxiety was still there, I was still pretty much socially isolated outside the school grounds and yet there was a rebellious sense of freedom I could latch onto. These days I am much more attune to and revel in my rebelliousness because it's a refusal to conform to gender expectations and semantic structure expectations. I wear what I want within the confines of the law and I accept that I won't be the Jacob Rees-Mogg type of rhetorical speaker (Thank God!) I can own my own truth, try and phrase things in the way I know how and happily invite others on the journey with me. Being a confident communicator means embracing semantic and grammatical differences. If someone uses “and” to start a segment of lecture once in a while....it may not be seen as “Standard” English but so what! Being a confident listener means embracing the challenge of understanding different modes of speech delivery; if a young person uses “Absolutely” 10 times during the conversation because they may happen to be nervous about meeting you for the first time...No Big Deal! Listen to the overall content of the conversation and appreciate how much effort that young person may have made to come and talk to you in the first place.

I hope that more young people with dyspraxia will receive the support they need, especially with regards to reducing levels of anxiety and social isolation. It starts with professionals being open to finding out more about neurodiverse conditions.
There are several ways of finding out this information :

Young people with dyspraxia can be some of the wittiest, academically bright young people around. By understanding some of the challenges they face, like dealing with unfamiliar social situations, professionals can offer the right amount of support for those young people to cope whilst empowering them to pursue their aspirational goals. To young people reading my blog, I say this: you can and will achieve great things. Reach out when you think you need additional support. Never give up and remember it's OK not to be OK sometimes. You know what's best for you.

No comments:

Post a Comment