Competing in the World Series of Birding with Autism and chronic illness
Birdability’s Team Nuthatch at the 2022 World Series of Birding. From left to right, back to front: Freya, Michael, Claire (Michael’s wife and our record keeper), Lee (Jerry’s wife and our second driver), Jerry, Nicole, Virginia and Meghadeepa. Photo: Daniel Sheire.
If you told me a few months ago that I’d travel to Cape May to participate in New Jersey Audubon’s World Series of Birding, I would have laughed. But that’s exactly what I did. It was incredibly difficult for me (as I had expected), but I was surprised at how much I enjoyed the experience, despite a number of overwhelming factors as an autistic birder with chronic pain and illness.
The World Series of Birding is an annual competition held by New Jersey Audubon as a fundraising event. Teams of birders have 24 hours to observe as many species as possible with the goal to raise money through donations and pledges. Birdability’s Team Nuthatch aimed to raise $10,000 to support Birdability’s ongoing work, and we were the first ever team made entirely of people with access challenges in the event’s nearly 40 year history.
When I was invited to be part of this, my mind immediately started reeling with all the reasons I should decline. So much of this trip seemed impossible.
How was I going to drive one of the most difficult routes in the country, from Connecticut, around the sprawl of New York City, to southern New Jersey? Driving is extremely difficult with my processing challenges and anxiety.
How could I spend a weekend with a team made up of five people I’d never met in-person? I have a hard time being with people for more than a few hours, and I’d only known my team members virtually.
Could I be comfortable in a busy tourist town, staying at a hotel (when I prefer car camping), and potentially struggling with pain and sickness in the company of others? Normally I ask for alone time when I am overwhelmed, in pain, or unwell, but this was going to be difficult or impossible during the World Series where we were required to stay together all day.
How would I deal with the uncertainty of birding at a new place during a large event I was unfamiliar with? Unfamiliar situations cause me stress, and the World Series and Cape May was certainly nothing like anything I’ve had experience with.
Despite the inevitable challenges, I said yes.
The fog was thick, but sprits were high at the second stop — birding from the neighborhood streets around Lake Lily. Photo: Karen Sharp.
During the planning stages, I was informed of a complicating factor I wasn’t prepared for: our team would be joined by three people who were complete strangers to me. The Cornell Lab of Ornithology’s Center for Conservation Media was sending a cinematographer, and because two of my teammates are legally blind, their wives would be joining us as their husbands’ sighted guides. Perhaps this should have been obvious, but I became stressed knowing that I would be in a group with strangers. Thankfully, I had nothing to worry about: all three were lovely.
I was excited to bird for the first time with a group with whom I wouldn’t feel pressured to push myself to keep up despite my chronic pain and illness. In our planning meetings we discussed that we’d take an easy approach to the day, and I knew that any time my pain or illness was unmanageable I’d feel comfortable asking for a break without judgment. I’ve never been in this position before and that is one of the things I loved most about this trip. It was comforting and validating to know that I was birding with a group who would accommodate my access challenges without question.
Michael and Daniel, our cinematographer, who couldn’t resist a little birding in between filming. Michael is standing directly behind Daniel to help him get on the bird with his very narrow field of view. Photo: Freya McGregor.
The day of the World Series was not as overwhelming as I’d prepared for, but a few things happened that weren’t on my radar of possible complications. There was thick fog all day and it rained a lot; I really hate the sensation of wet fabric on my skin and was frustrated with how difficult it was to see birds through the fog.
At our first stop a loud fog horn was sounding. We weren’t able to relocate without leaving that site because it was the only moderately accessible spot for our team member who uses a manual wheelchair. My team checked in with me multiple times in case I wanted to leave — which made me feel like I was in good company — but I assured them that I could stay because I was hearing a lot of birds that I wanted for our list. Even though loud sounds like fog horns are painful to hear, it is the same sensory sensitivity that allows me to hear distant birds, and I knew that skill would be an asset to the team.
Birding from the ramp down to the beach from the Springwatch Platform — the only place Virginia could see the beach (due to the unfortunate design of the railings at the platform). Photo: Freya McGregor.
A fire station alarm went off in the neighborhood around the Springwatch Platform at our third stop, and I braced myself to have a horrible time the second I heard it. Thankfully it didn’t last long, and I actually had a great time at this location once I recovered. A team of New Jersey Audubon staff and volunteers who count every morning for a seasonal research project monitoring migrating birds were at this platform, and had put out snacks to share. It was such a kind and welcoming gesture, and I could see the morale of my team immediately perk up.
My go-to coping strategy which always improves my mood is eating or drinking anything cold and fruity; it snaps me back into a better mental state. The problem was that I was carpooling with the team and away from the things I keep in my car in preparation for any situation. I didn’t have access to my comfort and coping tools, including extra dry clothes to change into, and it was really hard being away from the safety net of my car and my belongings. All morning I was craving a fruity snack or drink to ease my stress, but I didn’t have my typical backup supply until I came upon the snacks at the Springwatch Platform. It probably sounds silly, but one handful of gummy bears was all it took to improve my mood and outlook substantially.
As a team, we planned to take a couple of hours break over lunch to allow me and others to have some downtime, so we would still be enjoying our birding in the later part of the day. Although other teams power through the day, one of our team’s measures of success was if we all felt included, and participation was accessible to each of us. A break half way was one strategy to ensure this, and it gave me an opportunity to take a nap and have some alone time before meeting everybody again a few hours later. It would have been much harder to finish the day without this period of rest.
The afternoon involved a 0.5 mile loop boardwalk at Cape May State Park, and a return to the Springwatch Platform to help one of our team members catch up with some of the birds we had seen there earlier in the day. Because of their health and access challenges, they could not meet up with us until nearly lunchtime, so once the six of us were together we were trying to maximize our species list (and so, our fundraising impact).
Once it started getting dark, we headed to the Finish Line: a friendly celebration at the hotel where teams arrive to submit their lists. For other teams this was straightforward, but it was complicated for Team Nuthatch because we had to keep multiple lists to comply with competition rules, and collect data on the rules’ impact on us with our various access challenges. We had a list of birds IDed by all team members, of birds IDed by only sighted team members, and of birds IDed by all team members present at that time. (This was mostly related to our team member who joined us just before lunchtime.) In the end, we had a final list of 70 species, which I think was impressive for a team with such a wide variety of access challenges.
Freya and Jerry taught me how to be a sighted guide, and I enjoyed guiding Jerry during the afternoon. Photo: Freya McGregor.
The Awards Brunch, which took place the morning after, brought another level of discomfort, but thankfully I was prepared for most of it. I knew that I’d have to sit in a room full of people and conversation, but I was surprised when all the teams were suddenly asked to all gather into one large group for a photo. I was completely taken aback. I didn’t want to walk through the crowd and stand in the group! It would have been much easier had I known that it was going to happen. When the photographer asked the large group to yell “Bananas!” for the photo I began to tear up from the auditory overload. (Thankfully I held it together.)
Although being part of Birdability’s Team Nuthatch at the 2022 World Series of Birding was difficult, I ultimately had a great time with my team, met so many kind and welcoming people who were so receptive to Birdability’s mission, and ended the day feeling proud that a team facing so many different access challenges managed to list 70 species. I’m hopeful that Team Nuthatch can compete again next year and I’m so glad that I went outside of my comfort zone and decided to be a part of this event.
A note from the Editor: Birdability’s Team Nuthatch had many layers of complexity participating in the 2022 World Series of Birding. Of the six team members, only Virginia and myself had ever birded together (most teams are made up of folks who go birding together all the time), and none of us were at all familiar with the birding locations of Cape May — how birdy they were, which birds to expect, or if these locations were accessible. I built the team on purpose to included a diverse group of people with very different access challenges — I reasoned that if we’re going to do this, we might as well make a splash…! The “95% rule” of the competition states that 95% of species identified must be identified by all team members, but when one of your team is totally blind, and a second is legally blind, this is not so straightforward. We were trying to find birds that were vocalizing, but we needed to be using wheelchair-accessible birding locations, too. We had to remain flexible enough to include, as much as possible, other team members with their own access challenges related to chronic illnesses, fatigue and sensory overwhelm, and pushing people too hard could have resulted in folks being burnt out for days afterwards (which would not be OK!). ‘Complex’ is the best word I can use to describe the day, and I’m incredibly proud of Nicole, Meghadeepa, Jerry, Virginia and Michael for being part of Team Nuthatch, and showing the world what disabled birders can do! — Freya.
At the ‘Finish Line’ on Saturday evening. We were exhausted, but satisfied. Photo: Claire Strohmeyer.
