By Chris Kelly

At InfoComm in July 2025, I attended a valuable session on neurodiversity and inclusive design led by Kay Sargent, Director of Thought Leadership at HOK—a global design, architecture, engineering and planning firm. Kay’s expertise and engaging presentation style were excellent, but a highlight of the session was receiving a copy of her book, Designing Neuroinclusive Workplaces, which I highly recommend. The book opens with a substantial exploration of neurodiversity, then shifts to focus on practical strategies for inclusive space design. The combination of the presentation and the book has given me a lot to think about regarding accessibility and inclusion.

Before I started in AV/IT in August 2023, I spent about ten years working in child protection and mental health counseling after earning my Master’s in Counseling. This was followed by a role in vocational rehabilitation with the State of Iowa, where I helped high school students and adults with disabilities gain equitable access to desired employment. Much of my work involved studying various disability models and conditions defined by the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM) and the International Classification of Diseases (ICD). I continue to have a deep interest in this field and participate in any diversity, equity, inclusion, and accessibility (DEIA) efforts I can. My background led me to wonder just how much the average person working in higher education AV/IT knows about neurodiversity. Is it a widely understood concept, or is it only known to a minority?

To explore this question, I created a short survey on neurodivergence and accommodations, targeting it specifically to higher education AV/IT professionals. The survey was shared on the Higher Ed Tech Manager’s Alliance (HETMA) website and two Educause Connect boards, with an encouragement for participants to share it within their networks. I launched the survey on August 9, 2025, and, after just two weeks, I had already received 119 responses, prompting me to close it earlier than planned. I was extremely pleased with the response rate, and the results were pleasantly surprising. 

To give you a personal perspective, I have included direct quotes from individuals who shared their thoughts in the survey, like the following.

Even with medically diagnosed conditions, it is often difficult to get ADA accommodations and some places will drag their feet in accommodating people and then use their performance without accommodations as a reason for termination. While I feel many in IT recognize neurodivergence, the people in leadership can still place undue onus on its workers when simple accommodations could help people perform at their best.

The survey began with two foundational questions: whether respondents were familiar with the term neurodivergent and whether they felt comfortable defining it. I was genuinely surprised by the results—only 6% were unfamiliar with the term, and a full 75% felt confident in their ability to define it. I hadn’t expected such a high level of awareness. 

It’s worth noting that this group isn’t a random cross-section of the general population. These are professionals, many of whom are affiliated with organizations like Educause, which likely contributes to their familiarity with the concept. While the results may not fully reflect broader public understanding, they still offer a noteworthy glimpse into how awareness is evolving within professional circles. 

Since the pandemic, many people in our organization now work from home part or all of the time. This change has been very helpful for neurodiverse people because it allows them to control their environment and cuts down some of the stressful social interactions inherent in an office setting. The neurodiverse people I know use headphones to lessen auditory distractions, but these are not provided by the employer – they have to learn about themselves and advocate for what they need. The higher ed context is a good one for neurodiverse people because of flexible work hours and workspaces. It seems like most of the people I work with are neurodiverse and they are all also kind, empathetic, creative, and innovative.

While the term neurodivergence can be broad, the general concept refers to individuals whose brains process information differently. This umbrella term often includes a variety of diagnoses, such as autism spectrum disorder (ASD), attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD), obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD), dyscalculia, dysgraphia, dyslexia, and dyspraxia. Based on this definition, 57% of survey respondents considered themselves to be neurodivergent, and 81% were aware of neurodiverse colleagues within their organizations. This is significantly higher than the estimated 20% of the general population who are considered neurodiverse, a statistic that highlights the prevalence of neurodivergence within this specific professional community.

It was especially encouraging to see that 64% of respondents were aware of accommodations for neurodivergent individuals—either in their own workplaces or elsewhere. That number genuinely surprised me, in the best way. While there’s still room for growth, it’s encouraging to see that meaningful steps are already being taken.

To better understand what these accommodations represent, it’s helpful to consider the two primary models of disability. The medical model views disability as a deficiency or abnormality within the individual—something to be treated or corrected to conform to societal norms. In contrast, the more effective social model sees disability not as a personal deficit, but as a natural part of human diversity, much like race or gender. It suggests that people are disabled not by their differences, but by a society that is not built to accommodate those differences. Our goal, therefore, shouldn’t be to “fix” individuals, but to remove societal barriers—creating spaces where people can thrive as their authentic selves. This shift in thinking is not only more inclusive, but also far more empowering. 

I’ve realized that it’s okay to ask for what I need surrounding my neurodivergence, but the act of getting it makes one jump through so many hoops.

A note on language: We are often taught to use person-first language—for instance, saying “a person with depression” instead of a “depressed person”—to emphasize the individual rather than the condition. However, many communities are increasingly embracing identity-first language, recognizing their condition as an integral part of who they are. This is similar to how many members of the Deaf community identify as part of a distinct culture, rather than as “hearing impaired.” 

In neurodivergent communities, particularly among autistic individuals, terms like “autistic” are being reclaimed as expressions of pride and identity. This shift highlights the importance of being intentional with our language and avoiding phrasing that implies these conditions are inherently negative. That said, not everyone feels the same way. Language preferences can vary widely, even within the same community, so it’s important to approach each person with respect and openness—and when possible, to ask how they prefer to be identified. Language shapes perception, and using respectful, affirming terminology helps foster a more inclusive and supportive environment.

Accommodations. Never had crossed my mind. Wonderful suggestion.

An accommodation in the workplace is any adjustment or support that enables an individual to have an equitable experience—whether during the hiring process, in the physical or digital environment, or through modifications to job responsibilities. Since each person’s needs are unique, accommodations should be tailored to the individual. Most are surprisingly low-cost, with the majority requiring no expense at all. Of the accommodations requiring funding, the majority cost less than $500. To get more of these in our workspaces, we must proactively ask, advocate, and explore what our colleagues could benefit from to succeed.

The accommodations we make for individuals often lead to innovations that benefit everyone—what we might call universal accommodations. For example, curb cuts, originally designed for wheelchair users, are now used by anyone with a stroller, bicycle, or rolling luggage. Similarly, subtitles and closed captions, which were vital accommodations for the Deaf and hard-of-hearing communities, are now used by countless people to better engage with media. These kinds of inclusive solutions demonstrate how simple adjustments can have broad impact. Many are rooted in understanding sensory differences, particularly the spectrum between hypo- and hyper-sensitivities. 

Hypo- and hyper-sensitivities are opposite ends of a spectrum. A person who is hypersensitive to a stimulus needs very little of it to become overstimulated and easily overwhelmed. Conversely, a hyposensitive person may require a lot of stimuli to stay engaged. This is why some people need background music, fidgets, or other stimuli to stay focused on daily tasks, while others benefit from noise-canceling headphones, dimmed lights, and minimal distractions to perform at their best. As a result, what some see as “little things” or “normal office aspects” can be incredibly overwhelming to someone who is more hypersensitive. 

Working in higher ed, I feel like neurodivergence is becoming more visible, but many faculty and staff do not know how to address it. I think there is a lot more messaging towards the classroom than the staff side of things. I struggle with multiple divergences (Dyslexia, OCD, ADHD- I usually just say “neurospicy”) and more knowledge and willingness to accommodate at the executive/administrative level would be very welcome

A common office prank—messing with a colleague’s meticulously organized space—can be an extremely overwhelming experience for some. Many people take for granted that others operate within their same worldview, assuming that if something isn’t a big deal to them, it won’t be for others. But people experience the world in vastly different ways. Seemingly minor factors—like the brightness of a room, background chatter, or the hum of an HVAC system—can cause significant distress for some individuals. If these everyday details can be so disruptive, imagine how stressful high-stakes situations—like in-person meetings or job interviews—can be. 

We often accept “standard” hiring practices without question—but why not challenge them? Simple adjustments, like providing interview questions in advance, offering a choice between one-on-one or panel formats, or adjusting lighting and noise levels can make a meaningful difference in helping candidates focus and perform at their best. 

Being open to these simple adjustments is crucial, especially considering that an estimated 40% of neurodivergent individuals are unemployed, with many more underemployed. By rethinking rigid expectations and embracing flexibility, we open the door to a more inclusive hiring process. Often, these accommodations cost nothing and simply allow us to meet people in environments that support their success.

Bias—both conscious and unconscious—is a real barrier. Unless someone has lived experience with disability or has worked closely with disabled individuals, they often lack the understanding needed to create truly inclusive environments. Discrimination and microaggressions are common, and what’s especially painful is when these behaviors are unintentional. People may not even realize they’re contributing to the problem, which makes it harder to address

So, how can you know how to help the people around you or those looking for jobs in your spaces? The answer is simple: pay attention and have an open mind. If you see someone struggling, ask what you can do and be genuinely supportive. For example, if a colleague always wears earbuds, it might be because the office is too loud or they need background noise to focus. Instead of assuming it’s a lack of engagement, check in with them. Similarly, if someone uses dark mode on their computer or wears sunglasses indoors, it might be because the lighting in the space is too bright. Rather than making light of it, you could ask about their preference and start a conversation. If a colleague seems to struggle with reading or numbers in a meeting, don’t put them on the spot by asking them to read something unprepared. While these actions may not be intentionally designed to cause distress, we all have a responsibility to be more empathetic and learn to work together.

I have several neurodivergent diagnoses, and being in a leadership role in IT, it has been very challenging to assess the environment, figure out how to respond, and keep everything in order at all times.

Obviously, different people need different things, which raises a key question: how do we accommodate seemingly opposite needs in the same workspace? After all, a space can’t be both loud and quiet, or both brightly lit and dim. The solution is to move beyond a “one-size-fits-all” approach and explore flexibility through universal accommodations.

In classrooms, this might mean offering varied seating arrangements to support different learning styles. In offices, it could involve creating both collaborative areas and quieter, more private workspaces. Environmental factors like lighting, sound, and temperature don’t need to be static; adjustable features can make a space more responsive to individual preferences. Even elements like plant life can contribute to a more calming atmosphere. By exploring these flexible options, we can create spaces that allow for differences and empower our people, rather than forcing everyone into a single standard. Beyond the physical environment, conversations are also a significant area to consider. 

For neurodivergent individuals, things that others find intuitively obvious may not be so clear. It’s common for autistics, and others, to have a more literal understanding of things, causing the nuances of both verbal and non-verbal communication to get lost in translation. While words have dictionary definitions, we often bend their meaning, which can easily cause confusion. 

As a result, jokes may miss the mark, or people might “mask”—adopting behaviors they believe are expected—only to misjudge the tone or appropriateness of a situation. That’s why it’s so important to assume good intentions and, when a message doesn’t land as expected, take the opportunity to clarify and discuss how it was received. 

For supervisors especially, a key accommodation is to make workplace norms and expectations explicit. Many people rely on an intuitive understanding of “how things are done,” but not everyone has access to that kind of social shorthand. Clear, direct communication helps ensure that all employees are set up for success.

There’s also a noticeable absence of openly neurodiverse individuals in leadership or administrative roles, even though it’s clear that neurodiverse people are present in these spaces. This silence reinforces stigma and discourages others from coming forward.

A significant portion of survey respondents shared comments that reflected a wide range of emotions. A common theme was the tension between the ideal of workplace accommodations and the reality of accessing them. Many noted that the bureaucratic obstacles—and the requirement to disclose a disability—often outweighed the potential benefits. Several individuals expressed concern about the risks of disclosing their neurodivergence, with some even reporting instances of being targeted or disciplined for behaviors that should have been protected under the ADA. My own experience with Iowa’s Vocational Rehabilitation echoed these concerns: I witnessed universities resisting even basic accommodations for students, sometimes opting for legal battles over simple, reasonable requests. This underscores a critical truth—each person’s needs are unique, and so are the conditions that allow them to thrive in the workplace.

That said, several survey respondents reported having wonderful experiences. There were stories of entire teams identifying as neurodivergent and feeling a strong sense of community and mutual understanding. Others reported receiving effective accommodations without issue, which enabled them to perform at levels they might not have otherwise reached. However, some also spoke about learning to “mask” to the point where others couldn’t identify their neurodivergence. This reflects an alignment with the medical model of —where the burden is placed on the individual to adapt—rather than the social model, which recognizes that it is often societal structures that create barriers. Additionally, comments suggested that students in academic institutions may receive more robust support than faculty or staff, highlighting a disparity in how accommodations are applied across roles.

I learned to work around and adapt to the issues I have. Most people I work with barely realize I have an issue that would fall in this category.

I hope this article sparks questions and encourages a new way of thinking. Several survey respondents commented that they had never considered accommodations before, but now feel it is a worthwhile pursuit. No one has all the answers, and everyone is different, which is why it’s so important to seek out groups focused on DEIA and accessibility specialists in your own organization for support. 

It’s also important to remember that we are all, in a sense, “temporarily abled.” At some point, each of us will experience injury, illness, or the natural changes that come with aging—altering how we navigate the world. The good news is that creating more inclusive environments doesn’t require us to “repair” the person. Instead, it asks us to repair the systems and spaces around them—so they work better for everyone.

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