Birds connect me to the world: Ways you can enable Autistic birders
Photo courtesy of Kari Sasportas.
Birds connect me to the world. When I’m birding, everything holding me down feels less weighty, like being buoyant in salt water. The connection provides relief from isolation, and the weightlessness quiets anxiety and uncertainty. I’m both grounded and untethered in a fleeting moment of bird-human-nature encounter.
Day-to-day life as an autistic person can be unpredictable. I often feel a lack of balance. There is a “goldilocks” element of too much sensory input and not enough. The physical environment and social world are not designed for our success. While many people mistakenly think of autism as a childhood condition, autism is a lifelong developmental disability. Lack of accommodations and understanding are a constant challenge throughout our lifespan, and negative stereotypes persist in undermining our potential. Adults don’t “overcome” autism, but many of us do work hard to suppress our authentic selves to better fit in with the expectations of the non-autistic people around us. This “masking” is exhausting and overwhelming and can lead to life-threatening burnout.
Snow Bunting. Photo: Kari Sasportas.
In the first year of the COVID pandemic, I didn’t recognize signals from my brain and body telling me I needed to take a break. I was a public health official on-call 24/7 and responding to urgent situations around the clock. My job depended on me not having an off day, which meant doing it while feeling pressured to hide my autism. Denying my needs was not sustainable. My career hit a major setback and I had to focus on my own basic survival. Birding remains the self-care so crucial to my healing.
Birding remains the self-care so crucial to my healing.
While birding, I am alert and laser-focused on nothing else: color, size, shape, song, call, habitat, behavior, season, range, geography, molt, plumage, age, classification, identity. My brain is a field guide, and in my mind’s eye I leaf through it. In this space my daily struggle to communicate with other people, to understand and be understood, relents. Nature is my native language and birds are the alphabet; the building blocks for making meaning. I read the underlying geology, the soil, the plants and trees, the creatures, and above all else, birds, like a musician reads notes on a staff. No two performances are ever the same, the pitch is sharp or flat, the tempo fast or slow, dynamics loud or soft, the harmony sweet or dissonant. Birding is mindfulness. The gift of being present brings calm and focus to an otherwise challenging and stressful existence on the autism spectrum where it is not uncommon for me to feel uneasy and fatigued.
How can the birding community create an intentional space to allow for and sustain more mindful moments? How can educators, trip leaders, and birding and conservation organizations minimize barriers to inclusion and help autistic people thrive? The following are a few suggestions, but this list is just a beginning and not meant to be exhaustive. There are a range of autistic experiences, ideas, and perspectives out there to consider.
Snowy Owl. Photo: Kari Sasportas.
Seek out autistic people and consult with us to design your birding programs for better inclusivity and accessibility. There is a motto in the disability community that says, “Nothing about us without us.” However, the medical community, families, caregivers, and special educators have historically defined the approach to working with autistic people without input from autistic people themselves. The behavioral interventions that come from this traditional paradigm, and the resulting lack of acceptance of our differences, can create mistrust and trauma for the autistic community. This needs to change. Autistic voices should be centered and prioritized, particularly BIPOC, LGBTQIA+, and intersectional autistic voices that have historically been underrepresented. Lived experience can provide powerful insight into designing birding programs that help us to experience the wonders of birding and hone our skills in a non-threatening and supportive environment. Invite autistic people to be at the forefront of designing experiences that meet our unique sensory needs and ways of processing and interacting with the world around us.
Autistic people want to be leaders. We have a desire to learn and grow, to be productive and contribute, just like any other human being, but we may need some extra support to get there. While we are stereotypically perceived as distant or aloof, we often feel isolation and hope for connection. Mentorship is key to our success. I think of a mentor like a coach or cheerleader. Someone who won’t abandon us when we experience anxiety or frustration, and help us through setbacks by respectfully redirecting us and reminding us of our strengths. Autistic people need validation and consistency. A good mentor has the time and patience to hang in there with us.
During the Birdability Big Sit in October 2021. This event was planned to be as accessible and inclusive as possible. Photo courtesy of Kari Sasportas.
Provide accommodations when requested, and plan thoughtfully to proactively minimize barriers. As an autistic person I struggle with verbal communication. Due to delayed auditory processing, I have difficulty keeping up with spoken conversation in real time. I rely on closed captions and written information to help me understand what’s going on and provide context. I also have trouble expressing myself verbally. While I have an excellent memory for facts and a vivid photographic memory, in conversation my working memory is slow to keep up and I often forget the right words or draw a blank and lose what I wanted to say.
Offering a means to communicate or share information in writing and being accepting of autistic people who use Augmentative and Alternative Communication (AAC) or other alternative means to communicate can be a lifeline.
When interacting with autistic people who are more reserved, it’s better to ask closed-ended rather than open-ended questions to help draw us out. (“Do you want to stop for a rest now?” is close-ended; “Let me know when you want to stop for a rest,” is open-ended, and can be too vague.)
For outings, bring along field guides and other visuals. Use these instead of relying only on verbally describing birds.
Provide supplemental written information before a trip for preparation and after the trip to recap.
The sensory environment can be a challenge for autistic people. Noise and variations in weather can’t be controlled in nature, but when you provide information on what conditions may be expected ahead of time this can help us plan what we need to bring along to make us feel more settled, whether it’s noise canceling headphones or an extra layer. Many autistic people have difficulty with planning and prioritizing tasks and making decisions. Providing a list of suggested items to bring on an outing can help to narrow down options, and being available to answer questions before an outing can be reassuring.
Birding is a passion that helps me connect to others and find a sense of solace, but I say this acknowledging that safety and comfort in the outdoors is not a given for many people. Please do not assume my perspective is representative of the range of experiences out there. It’s imperative to amplify and center BIPOC, LGBTQIA+, disabled and intersectional voices in a broader conversation about safety and inclusion, while working to empower autistic birders.
Editors note: To learn more about being welcoming, inclusive and empowering to autistic birders, we recommend you check out the interview of Kari as part of the Birdability Birders interview series, co-hosted by American Bird Conservancy. Thank you Kari for being such a wonderful advocate and teacher!
