Become mindful of neuro-divergence

Sitting at a doctor's waiting room a few months ago, an adolescent girl and her parents caught my eye. She was quiet for the first few minutes; then she let out a particular sound at regular intervals. Both parents gently tried to calm her down but clearly the waiting and the constant movement of people - and perhaps even the sounds and bright white light - made her emit those sounds more frequently, and more loudly. And then she began to flail both her arms too.

Luckily, her parents were unflappable and managed eventually to stop the flailing. The staff at the doctor's chamber also knew she was neuro-divergent and did not get annoyed either. But imagine if they had been at an airport, or a restaurant or a mall. What would be the reaction of the security staff and other people around? After all, there are so many stories of children "acting out" being refused boarding at gates or being restrained by ignorant, officious security and staff.

Even as we become aware of the prevalence of neuro-divergence (from Autism Spectrum Disorders and Tourette's Syndrome to ADHD, Specific Learning Disabilities and more), not enough is being done to help people cope with it. We make ramps for the physically challenged, have wheelchair facilities at airports and think we have made great strides in becoming a more compassionate society. But "hidden disability discrimination" continues largely unnoticed.


Last week, Minu Budhia recounted that when travelling with her own neuro-divergent daughter she is often questioned when she opts for a "special assistance" queue. Most airport staff are not sensitised to recognise that even those without visible "disability" need help. Minu had the will and wherewithal to set up an institution in Kolkata to diagnose and treat neuro-divergence, but much of India and the wider world are largely unaware and unhelpful.

Like in Minu's well-appointed centre, many major airports abroad now have sensory rooms where people can be calmed down or stimulated depending on their type of neuro-divergence. But only one Indian airport has this facility: Bengaluru's T2. Such therapeutic rooms should be there at all transit hubs like railway stations and bus terminuses, and other public spaces. Especially since many airports in India and abroad have smoking and prayer rooms!

Delhi, Hyderabad and Thiruvananthapuram airports are apparently part of the international Hidden Disabilities Sunflower initiative that gives out badges and lanyards which help trained staff to identify and help people with invisible disabilities. But how many avail of it? And speaking from experience, Minu pointed out that very few Indians even know that 'special assistance' services are not meant only for the elderly, invalids or physically challenged.

A country as vast and populous as India obviously has many competing and equally important demands for various types of public amenities. But as India becomes more prosperous, public-private partnerships can surely be struck to address not only basic concerns like toilets and safe drinking water but also relatively smaller scale but equally crucial issues like accessible facilities for all vulnerable groups, including, of course, the neuro-divergent.

Not many realise that 12% to 18% of Indian children are estimated to have some form of neuro-divergence. Thus, the need for a more compassionate and caring society is glaringly manifest. Government and private sector can provide funds, facilities, institutions, training and therapies but we all have to become more aware and accommodating too. The supportive parents of that little girl in the doctor's office and Minu are both pointers to the way forward.