Leading with Neuro-Inclusion — When “Understanding” Isn’t Enough

Leading with Neuro-Inclusion — When “Understanding” Isn’t Enough

Imagine being in a room built for everyone but you.
The lights buzz and flicker.
The instructions are rushed, vague, or only verbal.
The pace moves fast, and there’s no time to pause, translate, or ask.
You’re doing the work. You’re holding it together.
But on the outside? You look fine.
So no one notices the effort it’s taking just to stay afloat.

For many neurodivergent team members, this isn’t the exception.
It’s the everyday.

Judy Singer, the sociologist who coined the term neurodiversity, reminds us that conditions like ADHD, autism, dyslexia, and sensory processing differences aren’t pathologies to fix; they’re natural variations in how human brains function.
They bring challenges, yes, but also deep and often untapped strengths:
pattern recognition, creative problem-solving, compassion, hyper-focus, deep empathy.

But here’s the catch:
Those strengths can only thrive in spaces that are built with difference in mind.
And most workplaces weren’t.

That’s why we need to talk about neuro-inclusion, not just accepting or accommodating neurodivergence,
but actively designing spaces, systems, and cultures that welcome it.

Neuro-inclusion asks:

  • How are we building workplaces where all brains can thrive?

  • What would it look like if difference was expected, not exceptional?

  • How can we shift from permission to participation?

This is where Universal Design for Learning (UDL) gives us a way forward.
UDL invites us to build flexibility in from the beginning, offering multiple ways for people to access, engage, and express.
It removes barriers before they become exclusion. It treats variety as a given, not a problem to solve.

Inclusion isn’t about adjusting the margins.
It’s about redesigning the middle.
It’s about creating environments where people don’t have to ask to belong.

And while leaders play a critical role, this isn’t just top-down.

Neuro-inclusion is also a call for self-responsibility. For those of us who are neurodivergent, part of this journey is learning to name what supports us best, when we can. That might look like:

  • Asking for information in writing

  • Sharing that we process more slowly in noisy spaces

  • Requesting time to prepare ahead of meetings

It’s not always easy.
It takes energy and vulnerability.
But asking is part of reshaping the system.
And every time we do, we make it easier for someone else.

You don’t need a formal diagnosis to deserve dignity.
You don’t need to be an expert in neuroscience to lead with compassion.
You just need to be curious.
To ask.
To listen.
To lead with aroha.

Because clarity, flexibility, and kindness aren’t just “nice to have.”
They are the building blocks of truly inclusive culture.

Something to Reflect On:

What one thing could you shift in your space, your systems, or your expectations, to move from accommodation to neuro-inclusion?

With care,
Mary‑Anne


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When You Just Want People to Do Their Job — Holding Standards Without Losing Heart