UDL Week: Why no UDL for adult professional meetings?
UDL week has been fun. I sincerely hope that you’ve gotten something out of the content that’s been shared. Today, in a sort of “bonus content” discussion, I pose the following question: if UDL is so amazing for K-12, and even college, why does it not appear in professional spaces?
I thought about this in a recent professional development session. As I’ve written previously, it seems as though professional spaces assume that autistic people won’t be there. Nevertheless, here’s the scenario I recently faced. For the main activity, teachers were presented a paper handout of 7 pages about the effective uses of “brain breaks” in the classroom. We were given 5 minutes to read the materials ahead of a discussion at our tables. Plus, we were expected to use the school’s “official” annotation strategies in marking up the page.
The presenter then put on some background music. The lyrics filled the air with language and mixed with the already complex noise environment that has me wearing my Loops full time …
Begin panic attack.
I support myself in such situations by using my assistive tech. Here, I scanned the pages and saved them to PDF using an app on my phone. Then I loaded the file to the cloud where I could leverage the other tools I use to make sense of the pages. By the time all this was completed I was well past time and the discussion had begun.
What the facilitator saw, and commented upon in her debrief to the group, was that one table did not have full participation using the annotation strategies. Ouch. I don’t physically annotate the pages because it can interfere with the character recognition (OCR). But, again, it’s assumed that someone like me won’t be in the room. Rather than put me on blast for using tools and tech to support myself, I was called out for not participating as instructed. This didn’t help the panic attack.
Wait, what?
I know what you’re thinking. Why didn’t the presenter share the pdf electronically? Or, why didn’t I search the web for the article? As to the first question, I don’t know. For the second, I don’t use District-provided tech, so my access to the web using my phone or computer is highly restricted. I did find the article later, prior to putting this article together. Here it is (link).
Moving on …
I kept working on the problem and eventually had the text where I could work with it. By this time, we’d moved on. But I still wanted to contribute. And, like many autistic gestalt language processors (aka, non-verbal), I do better assembling my thoughts in writing. So that’s what I did. When I had finished, I shared the following with my co-teacher in a text:
For our geometry classes, I would recommend the “Jigsaw Jumble” brain break activity (#7 on the list). Here's why it could work well:
It provides a nice change of pace from the logical thinking required for geometry proofs and theorems. Students get to use visual-spatial skills instead as they assemble puzzle pieces.
Working together in groups without talking requires focus and cooperation. But it's a lower-stakes communication challenge than participating in a math discussion. This could be appealing for our autistic students who find social interactions stressful.
The hands-on nature and novelty of assembling a puzzle with only visual cues seems stimulating and engaging. Our autistic students may appreciate this structured but creative task.
Since no talking is allowed, the activity provides a break from auditory input and social interaction. This could help our autistic students who are overstimulated recharge.
Completing the puzzle provides an intrinsic sense of satisfaction and boost of confidence. This can prime our autistic students to feel focused and motivated to tackle the next geometry lesson.
So the quiet teamwork and hands-on nature of “Jigsaw Jumble” seems well-suited to provide a brain break that aligns with the needs of our students. The chance to step away from verbal thinking and turn inward could help them recharge for more spatial reasoning.
Reaction
I observed my co-teacher as his Apple Watch flashed an alert and he read the message. I got a huge smile and a thumbs up. This, of course, contrasts with the snide call-out I got from not meeting the expectations that I physically mark up the printed pages. Indeed, it felt like a “UDL for thee, but not for me” moment.
Self-Reflection
As I drove home, I thought about the barriers autistic gestalt language processors who are public school teachers participating in after-work professional development sessions face:
Sensory issues - The school environment is overwhelming with fluorescent lighting, loud sounds, and strong smells. These sensations are amplified at the end of the day when I’m already drained. Professional development sessions after school overstimulate my already depleted system. I’m out of spoons when I get there, then work at a deficit during the meeting - borrowing from tomorrow to get through today.
Exhaustion and burnout - Like all teachers, I expend a lot of mental and emotional energy throughout the school day interacting with students, parents, administrators etc. Staying late after a full workday for professional development is extremely tiring. Add alexithymia to the mix, and this is a recipe for quickly burning out.
Difficulty with unstructured social situations - Professional development often involves group discussions, networking and informal social interaction which can be challenging for someone like me with an impairment of functional language. The lack of clear expectations, and the inability to “pre-load” appropriate gestalts causes stress and anxiety.
Overstimulating content - The session’s contents are presented in a chaotic, rapidly-switching format rather than a clear linear progression. This makes it hard to process for autistic brains like mine.
The best professional development for autistic teachers provides agenda outlines, quiet spaces, respect for sensory needs, providing written materials in advance, and structured social interactions. Flexibility and understanding barriers makes professional growth more accessible.
But that may be asking too much.
Reflecting on the exercise itself, the “read these pages and come up with a coherent response in 5 minutes or less,” here’s all of the issues for me.
Information overload - Trying to read, digest and retain key information from a long document in a very short timeframe is incredibly overwhelming for my autistic brain at the end of the day. The volume of information exceeds my ability to process it that quickly when I’m out of spoons.
Difficulty with rapid shifting - Being asked random, unpredictable questions requires quickly shifting between different topics covered in the 7 pages. Abruptly jumping from one thing to another is extremely difficult for me when I’m out of spoons and haven’t “pre-loaded” the necessary gestalts.
Need for details - I tend to learn best when I can grasp details and nuances. Trying to skim a document and pull generalized ideas in 5 minutes deprives my brain of the opportunity to deeply understand the material. I don’t do well with trivialities and banalities. I want meaningful learning experiences, or I want to move on out the door.
Pressure and anxiety - The short time limit, randomized nature of the potential questions, and request to respond on the spot piles on performance pressure. This stress triggers anxiety which further hinders my ability to think clearly and access/express what I know when I’m completely exhausted at the end of a long school day.
Communication challenges - Even if I read and understood the document, articulating those thoughts quickly under pressure during a rapid fire Q&A is hindered by my autistic challenges with quick oral communication. I’m Level 2. That functional language impairment conspires against me in these situations where my support needs aren’t met.
Executive functioning - Time management, planning, prioritizing etc. are often difficult executive functions for me (yes, my ADHD doesn’t help here). The tight timeline makes those skills even harder to implement effectively when I have no energy and just want sleep.
More time, structure, detail and low-pressure response options would help, but are never on offer.
Conclusion
This is an on-going saga. Just last week, I identified the form to request accommodations. Unfortunately, it’s not fit for purpose. It’s designed for disabilities like a broken leg, not an on-going thing like I’ve described here. It took me almost 3 years of asking various people to get to this point. I’ve still not discovered if there’s a sort-of “disability services” office that can guide employees through this mess. I have asked, but have not received a reply. Sadly, the “AskHR” function seems to be handled by an AI ChatBot that has no idea what to do with my inquiries.
Given that it’s National Disability Employment Awareness Month (NDEAM) in the US, I guess that this post can serve to further the conversation about how systems and cultures can further disable the disabled.
Anyway. That’s my story. How’s your month going. Let me know in the space below.