My training as a speech-language therapist tells me that my job is to treat communication deficits in autistic people. I tell them, “Point to the triangle and then the circle.” I verbally model the phrase “I want,” and wait for a response. I read them social stories, encourage them to problem-solve, show pictures and ask for a narrative, build play skills, teach self-advocacy, help them make a plan to study for the next test, and once a year, I type up all my observations, data, teacher interviews, parent input, and student desires in a report. However, over time, my practice has and continues to evolve. During one of my externships, I was introduced to the concept of whole-body listening, which prescribed how different body parts should appear to demonstrate attentiveness to teachers. However, my experience has shown me that attention manifests in various ways—a student may fidget with a sensory item, stand while others sit, or avoid eye contact. While there are specific scenarios where direct attention is crucial, such as learning to cross the street, my understanding of what paying attention looks like has broadened.
As a speech-language therapist working at a District 75 school, I work with a diverse group of autistic students, ranging from those with high communication needs to those whose autism may be non-apparent. Each year, I do a unit on the brain. I start with a book, and then I tell all my students that we all have different brains, and each person has areas they need to improve on and special strengths they bring. Essentially, I am teaching the concept of neurodiversity to students, which states that all human brains fall within a natural variation (Donaldson et al., 2017). One former middle school student, M, had an exceptional memory for numbers and even recalled my birthday years later when we crossed paths at his high school. Another student, F., excelled in performative communication, co-hosting numerous school talent shows with me. A. preferred sign language over speech and used manual signs effectively to communicate in meaningful ways. My formal training emphasized identifying deficits, but my experience and research have illuminated the distinct strengths autistic individuals possess. Notably, autistics are honest. “In one study, autistic people were more likely to refuse to make an immoral choice (giving to a “bad charity”) even if it benefitted them (gaining money). Non-autistic people changed their behavior depending on whether they were being watched, but autistic people were consistent,” (Woods et al., 2023). Being true to one’s choices regardless of people’s opinions is typically a human difficulty. Mark Twain once wrote about Thomas Wiggins Bethune, a pianist with a vocabulary of just 100 words but a musical repertoire of over 7,000 pieces. He wrote, “And every time the audience applauded when a piece finished, this happy innocent joined in and clapped his hands, too, and with vigorous emphasis. It was not from egotism, but because it is his natural instinct to imitate pretty much every sound he hears” (Feinstein 2011). This reflection struck me—so much of my training and career focused on making atypical communicators more typical, unintentionally stripping away their individuality. Now, I strive to provide therapy that honors the person, not just their communication style.
Too often, providers, parents, and teachers overly focus on what autistic individuals struggle with rather than recognizing and nurturing their unique abilities. Imagine if your teachers, professors, and mentors only focused on your limitations. How would that impact your motivation? By shifting our focus to a strengths-based perspective, we allow people to cultivate their talents, change our minds regarding what people can and cannot do, and contribute to society.
When I write goals for my students, I first ask myself what area of skills show promise. What would be most beneficial and functional for them? Whereas before, I thought about what is lacking, I now think about what seeds can be planted. I write goals based on student self-advocacy that have helped students have their sensory needs met, ask for help, make choices, and interact with others, as opposed to goals that are compliance-based. For example, arm-flapping, children wanting to stand instead of sitting down for a session, and other movements do not negatively impact learning and may actually help students regulate.
I start my parent-teacher conferences and Individualized Education Plan meetings with a strengths-based conversation. E independently greets me when I enter the door and signs your turn to indicate a peer’s turn during a collaborative activity given faded sign language models. This establishes what the student does and the level of support I provide. Since autism presents in various ways, a one-size-fits-all approach is insufficient to address a person’s communicative needs. Unfortunately, the current curriculum in New York lacks the flexibility to recognize and cultivate individual strengths in children. For example, if an autistic child demonstrates a remarkable ability to communicate extensively about trains, should we not nurture that talent? Providing space and support for such interests could empower the child to pursue a meaningful, train-related career in adulthood.
Research states that autistic people are chronically unemployed (Cheriyan et al., 2021). But why is this the case? A study done with autistic and neurotypical people in which students were mock job interviewed explored this question. College students judged the interview by looking at videotapes or a transcript. This study revealed that autistic people outperformed neurotypical people. (Whelpley & May 2023). Based on the transcripts, autistic people were found to be more qualified than their neurotypical counterparts. Autistic people were also found to be more enthusiastic, captivating, and straightforward, among other qualities. This makes me wonder—are interviewers placing too much emphasis on nonverbal communication when making hiring decisions? How many qualified autistics are denied jobs they would outperform others simply because they did not show mainstream nonverbal communication skills? Cheriyan et al. (2021) stated that despite the strengths people with autism have, such as attention to detail and creativity to honesty and loyalty, autistic individuals still struggle to secure employment. Public figures like Michael John Carley serve as an example of successful autistic individuals. How many Carleys were denied their professional right to flourish? These are questions I continue to explore as a person working with autistic people.
There is a saying that my professor told me in graduate school that still echoes in my ear and goes something like this: “If you have met one person with autism, you have met one person with autism.” Autism is not experienced by everyone in the same way. However, I also acknowledge that some autistic individuals face profound challenges. Kancir, in discussing her daughter’s experience with what is currently referred to as “profound autism,” states, “I need you to be aware of her type of autism so you can help us develop unique systems that work for her so she can be accepted, too. Her autism will kill her unless I live forever to continue mitigating the life-threatening risks every day or unless society recognizes not all autism is a gift” (Kancir, 2024). I have seen my autistic students slap their heads with an intense force that needed intervention and run randomly out of their classroom to who knows where without any regard for their surroundings while five teachers scrambled for that student’s safety.
As a graduate student, I was told to use person-first terminology and say, “person with autism,” to acknowledge that the person comes first and not their classification. While some autistic people prefer this, others prefer to be called “autistic person” or the identity first perspective (Donalson et al., 2017). This conversation highlights the understanding that autistic individuals are not a monolith, and I use both terms to align with the preferences of the person I am engaging with.
Again, as a speech-language therapist, I was taught to “treat” communication issues in autistic people. In a conversation between an autistic and neurotypical person, why is the onus on the autistic person to make sure the conversation follows norms? It is about time neurotypical people receive training, too. Communication partner training for neurotypical and autistic people may include making the neurotypical person considerate of sensory inputs, accepting non-speaking ways of communication, using clear language, and individualizing communication strategies for each person (Albin & Tint, 2024). Research now suggests including the autistic voice in trainings and recommendations. As speech-language therapists, it is crucial that we not only listen to the autistic community and their preferences but also involve individual autistic needs and support an environment absent of masking (Donaldson et al., 2017).
Given the plethora of research regarding the inadequacies of autistic people, it should be emphasized that autistic people also bring strengths that should be studied, discussed, harnessed, and celebrated. As I continue working with autistic individuals, I strive to educate myself further on autistic preferences, balance recognizing their unique strengths while also understanding and addressing the significant challenges they may face. Through starting strengths-based conversations about students, creating neuro-affirming goals, listening to the autistic community, and recognizing the spectrum that is autism, I can become a better speech-language pathologist and human, and people can value the contributions autistic people bring and help them communicate in authentic and affirming ways. Adopting this perspective may help our field move further from harmful communicative practices and toward inclusiveness. It is time we embrace the diversity of humankind in all its forms.
Nigora Raufova is a speech-language pathologist who specializes in supporting autistic children in a Title I school in the Bronx. She also provides early intervention services to families. Nigora serves as an adjunct professor at the New Jersey Institute of Technology, where she teaches Effective Communication. She holds a master’s degree from Columbia University. To contact the author, please email nraufova@gmail.com.
Works Cited
Albin, M., Chawrun, I., & Tint, A. (2024). Rethinking Social Communication Support: Exploring Communication Partner Training for Autistic Adults and Their Neurotypical Communication Partners. Autism in Adulthood.
Cheriyan, C., Shevchuk-Hill, S., Riccio, A., Vincent, J., Kapp, S. K., Cage, E., … & Gillespie-Lynch, K. (2021). Exploring the career motivations, strengths, and challenges of autistic and non-autistic university students: Insights from a participatory study. Frontiers in Psychology, 12, 719827.
Donaldson, A. L., Krejcha, K., & McMillin, A. (2017). A strengths-based approach to autism: Neurodiversity and partnering with the autism community. Perspectives of the ASHA Special Interest Groups, 2(1), 56-68.
Feinstein, A. (2011). A history of autism: Conversations with the pioneers. John Wiley & Sons.
Kancir, J. Achieving Equity For All People With Autism.
Whelpley, C. E., & May, C. P. (2023). Seeing is disliking: Evidence of bias against individuals with autism spectrum disorder in traditional job interviews. Journal of Autism and Developmental Disorders, 53(4), 1363-1374.
Woods, S. E. O. N., & Estes, A. (2023). Toward a more comprehensive autism assessment: the survey of autistic strengths, skills, and interests. Frontiers in Psychiatry, 14, 1264516.
