Transcriber: Chiara Polesinanti
Reviewer: Maria Pericleous I'm going to share something with you
that I haven't told many people. When my husband was diagnosed with cancer,
this summer, I went numb. I felt hot and tingly on the inside. My head felt like it was floating
above my body like a balloon. And I had a sizable lump in my throat. Then I laughed. I didn’t think it was funny, but the way that my brain
processes emotion is different. As a kid, I would lose friends over this. My husband is doing well, and he’s actually here today
in the audience. (Applause) I am a terrific actress,
but I go mute when my emotions run high. I'm social, but I do not like small talk. I was once the odd kid,
and it still shows up. My feelings are not different than yours,
I just process information differently. And sometimes that looks different. My name is Cynthia Coupé,
and I am neurodivergent. As a speech language pathologist, I specialize in working with kids
on the autism spectrum, yet I didn't notice that my daughter
had autism until she was 10, and I didn’t see my own
neurodivergent traits until I was 46. We are on the spectrum
and we are not disabled. I want you to walk away from this talk, rethinking normal. So what is neurodiversity? Neurodiversity is the spectrum
of differences in each one of our brains in terms of things
like attention, language, memory, socializing and a whole host
of other cognitive functions. Neurodiversity was first coined
by Judy Singer in 1998. Yet it has no formal definition to this day. It was originally used to describe autism,
but autism rarely exists alone, so over time it's also included
things like ADHD, anxiety, dyslexia and a whole bunch
of other brain based disorders. Put simply, neurodiversity is the natural variation
in all of our brains. Just like our fingerprints,
no two are alike. Autistic traits have a long
and complex history. Yet autism is a fairly new diagnosis. As we learn more about it, we see that we’ve always had
human outliers and we’ve actually needed them
to help propel society forward. From Einstein to Elon Musk,
Thomas Jefferson to Greta Thunberg, Michelangelo to Bill Gates --
all neurodivergent. But it's not just about being
brilliant or gifted. It's certainly not about being emotionless
or lacking empathy, and it’s not even about being weird
or socially awkward. OK, maybe it’s a little about being weird
and socially awkward. (Laughter) But really, it’s about
interpreting the world differently. One of my clients, Jessica, used to think
that something was wrong with her. She didn’t know she had autism until one day, during an argument,
her sister blurted out, “It’s your autism.” “Autism what?” Jessica had no idea what this was. Her family finally shared her diagnosis
and she read up on it. Her whole world opened before her eyes. She tells me, “I learned I had autism.” “Nothing was wrong with me,
I was just autistic.” Nothing was wrong with her. What if we could all think that way? When my daughter, Lina,
was getting tested, she asked if I hoped she was autistic. “I really don’t care,
it won’t change anything about you. What do you hope?” “I don’t know why,
but I kind of hope I do have autism. I think it’d be kind of cool.” This next generation
has a wider lens for differences. There’s more acceptance, more openness. Just look at racial and gender identity. Acceptance and integration
is where our world is heading, and neurodiversity is no different. What we consider normal is shifting. Neurodiversity, racial diversity,
gender diversity, these new normals are shaping our future. The statistics give us only a narrow view
of what is out there, but no matter how we look at it, autism is on the rise. The CDC states that one in 54 children have a diagnosis of autism. That's up from one in 150
in the year 2000. That’s significant. Adults with autism
are estimated to be about one in 45. And I can tell you there’s a whole host of us
roaming around here that aren’t identified, (Laughter) and our children
are often late identified, which means we are not even part
of these statistics. The numbers have tripled
since the year 2000, and they might even quadruple soon, because we're still learning
how to identify it. In fact, between 30 and 40 percent
of the total population is thought to be neurodiverse. It really is the new normal. So I find it incredibly ironic that neurodivergents are forming
the world that we’re all living in, yet we don't fit in. Neurodivergents have a significantly
higher chance of unemployment, depression and suicide than the general population. We're stuck on the fringe
and it's killing us. Of those that have a diagnosis, between 55 and 85 percent are
unemployed or underemployed. There’s a 400 percent
higher chance of depression and a 300 percent higher chance of suicide than the general population. But why? I have a unique vantage point
of your neurodiversity: as a mother, therapist and individual, in all cases, I see here and experience
the same three issues. Society has a narrow view of autism. It’s either Rain Man or Forest Gump. Identification is difficult, and neurodivergent adults
have limited services. We need education,
identification and support. So how do we do that? My daughter actually nailed
this answer the other day. I was picking her up from school,
“Hey, bug, how was your day?” “It was fine. I told my friend I had autism. She said it didn’t seem like it. Mom, can you please do a talk
about neurodiversity at my school?” Education. She knew it was the answer,
even though she didn't know why. With education, we have the chance
to build empathy and understanding. It allows us to become vulnerable
and to connect. With education, we have the chance to open
the window into understanding others as well as ourselves and the ability to expand
our view of neurodiversity. Take my story. I had missed my daughter’s autism
and my own traits, even with 20 years of experience
of working in this very population. My view was too narrow. It wasn’t until I read an article
in Scientific American and learned that girls
present differently. I finally got it. I saw what I was missing. And I’m not alone. The fact that females
can look different than boys didn’t come to light until 2016. We all missed it. But through education, we’ve learned. Over and over again, I hear
neurodivergents saying the same thing. We wish we had known more
about ourselves sooner. We wish other people understood it,
and we wish people would listen. We don’t feel like we’re disabled. We just feel like we don’t fit in. In the work my husband and I do,
we regularly educate our clients, our community and even ourselves
about neurodiversity. We provide outreach and education
because we know it matters. And we know that education
builds a bridge to empathy. It also leads to identification. While it may not seem to matter
if somebody has a diagnosis or not, in today’s society
it holds tremendous weight. Here’s the formula: diagnosis equals services, services equal support, and support equals positive outcomes. So if we're not diagnosed
or we're diagnosed late, then we might struggle to hold down a job,
go to college or make friends. And if we struggle
with those things long enough, we might end up depressed
or even suicidal. We find ourselves trying to fit in,
trying to be someone we're not, because that’s what
we think society wants. In fact, identification also has
a direct impact on my clients, because how do you serve someone
that's not identified? I can’t exactly just grab
someone off the street, “Hey, you look weird, I think I can help.” (Laughter) Chances are if people aren't identified, they don’t know what their struggles are, and that leads them
to not be able to seek services. So while formal diagnosis
can take time to catch up to the need, just being able to self identify
can make a huge difference. Knowing we are not alone
helps us to build identity and to realize that we’re not actually
an alien life form. To quote Mark from the Netflix series
“Love on the Spectrum,” “it doesn’t matter.” We’re all human beings. It’s all about diversity. We're all in this together. Which brings me to the last piece we need: support. Remember how I said that the incidence
of autism had increased from one in 150 to one in 54? When I was a speech language pathologist
in the school system. the number of kids on my caseload
with autism doubled. It’s a tidal wave
that has entered the schools, and it’s already leaving it. Over the next 10 years, roughly 90,000 teens each year will age out of school based
autism services. Well, that’s almost a million teens
over the next 10 years. Similar to foster kids,
once these teens age out of services, there isn't much available,
some family support, maybe some accommodations in college, but no real life coaching
on the issues that matter, as they’re navigating
a post high school world. New experiences,
new responsibilities, new situations, it’s overwhelming. No wonder unemployment,
depression and suicide are so high. That’s a big problem. But what if instead of a problem, we viewed it as an opportunity, like my daughter did? I find that as we support
our clients in the real world, their growth is tremendous. Teary eyed parents are thanking us, while teachers and clients are asking
what more we can offer. Our support has led directly to the things
that matter most to them: jobs, friends, self advocacy. As Dena Gassner says,
“you don’t outgrow autism, you grow into it.” Autism is not static. It changes as we all do, and the years post high school
are no different. This is where the rubber meets the road,
where we can truly see what is needed. The other day, one of my classically
grumpy clients said to me, “I’m pretty much happy all the time.” “Really? Since when?” “Since I met Juan, now I have a friend.” This young man is 23 years old. His new besty is 19. I can tell you, they’ve changed
since becoming friends. They’ve connected with something
that was truly meaningful to them. Working in the field of autism became my life dream
after reading a book about it when I was seven years old. It is my passion, and it has only become
more personal as time has gone on. Life is funny, isn't it,
because along the way, it sent me a daughter
who’s neurodivergent, and it opened up my eyes
to the fact that I am too. I know intimately
what this population needs, and what we experience day to day. My vision is a world where neurodiversity
is as valued as biodiversity. We need systemic change. Change happens
by doing things differently. I don’t have a roadmap. But I have a direction. It all begins with education. We educate ourselves
by having conversations. Searching the internet, watching videos and reading books and literature
written by neurodivergent authors. We educate our children
so that they can advocate for themselves as well as others. If our child has a diagnosis,
we share it with them. We ask for neurodiversity education
in the school system, and we don't stop asking until we get it. We start using a strengths based model
instead of a deficit based model. We build better diagnostic tools, like a Myers-Briggs for neurodiversity. Bit by bit, we bring neurodiversity
out of the dark and into the light. We normalize the new normal. Together, we can create a world where everyone in society
is viewed with equal importance. As we move forward, I would like to share
a quote by Paul Collins, “Autistics are the ultimate square peg, and the problem with pounding
a square peg into a round hole is not that the hammering is hard work. it’s that you’re destroying the peg.” It’s time to put down the hammer. Thank you. (Applause)
