ADHD is not a lack of attention

Stereotypes abound because divergent thinking, creativity, and novelty-seeking aren't necessarily convenient traits in schooled kids and workers

Recently, I was talking to a friend about our respective school experiences. He shared: “I found school difficult because I always wanted to spend more time on each subject than just 45 minutes. I hated when the bell rang and I had to pull myself out of something I’d just gotten into. When I’m working on something, I get lost in it. Is there something that’s the opposite of ADHD?”

Actually, I told him, that sounded a lot like it could be ADHD.

ADHD is not a lack of attention. It’s a difference of attentional style, and for many of us one of the key elements is hyper-focus on the things we are interested in. Of course, this friend found traditional academics interesting; not all people do. ADHD children who don't find traditional schooling engaging may redirect their focus inward, exploring their own thoughts, or outward, observing the world beyond the classroom window. Consequently, they may be labeled as inattentive. Tuning out dull stimuli and hyper-focusing on one’s own interests are in fact two sides of the same coin.

While ADHD has been characterized as hyperactivity and/or inattention, and the DSM criteria is based around that framing, this definition is rooted in specific, inflexible expectations about how people should function. These expectations revolve around the notion that everyone, particularly children, should be willing to sit in one place for extended periods, absorbing externally determined information, and regurgitating it on a predetermined schedule. ADHD has been framed as a "disorder" affecting those who struggle to meet these productivity standards.

This framing is a capitalist and colonialist construct. By attributing the problem to the individual, it deflects attention away from unhealthy systems and expectations, and instead places the burden on the individual to conform.

That’s not to say that that ADHD doesn’t exist. ADHD is a very real experience, and it can be disabling, especially for those who experience a significant mismatch between their natural tendencies and environmental demands. But having an ADHD neurotype is neutral. Some traits, like high creativity, divergent thinking, and a penchant for novelty-seeking, can be a boon in many situations. These same traits can also be experienced negatively, particularly in high-control work or school settings.

Each individual neurodivergent person must be allowed to define their own experience.

“We also need to make room for individuals to define what is functional or dysfunctional for them because, too often, we associate functional with a very narrow set of standards and expectations. Functional means something works well while dysfunctional means something that doesn’t work well. As someone with ADHD, I tend to work well when I am able to work in an environment that suits me and I can complete tasks and projects in a non-linear way, but if you put me in an environment like a workplace where there are different expectations and rules, I don’t tend to work as well. Perhaps what is functional and dysfunctional really depends on our environment and the expectations of that environment.”

- Sonny Jane Wise, We’re All Neurodiverse

It’s only recently that the ADHD community is getting down to doing the hard work of defining the experience of ADHD from the inside. Although ADHD is less stigmatized than other neurodivergences like being Autistic, Bipolar, or Schizophrenic, the cultural milieu around ADHD is very heavily rooted in the pathology paradigm. This might be partly attributed to the historical context surrounding ADHD and medication. Mainstream culture tends to perceive ADHD as simply an Executive Function disorder that has a relatively straightforward "cure.”

There are a few writers talking about critical ADHD theory and looking at the experience we call “ADHD” through a Neuro-affirming lens. But they are rare. It seems to me, and others in the neurodiversity space share this observation, that ADHD advocacy is several years behind Autistic advocacy.

ADHD-as-identity vs ADHD-as-disorder

In fact, it’s taken me much longer to identify as an ADHDer than it has to recognize that I am Autistic, because there are so few spaces (even ADHDer-led ones) that fully incorporate the ideas of the Neurodiversity Paradigm. There are some well-known ADHD adults (like Dr. Ned Hallowell, Jessica McCabe, Tracy Otsuka, and Seth Perler) who are leading the narrative on ADHD these days. It’s certainly an improvement that ADHDers are the ones driving the conversations about ADHD, at least in some spaces, and that they are also sharing the experiences of other ADHD children and adults.

There is a scarcity of resources for those of us who question the narrative that ADHD is a "disorder" as opposed to a difference or an environmentally imposed/mediated disability. Most books focus on how ADHDers can adapt to their unique challenges, with limited discussion about altering their environments.¹ Few actually go deep into questioning why things (school, work, life, social systems) are set up the way they are in the first place.

ADHDers Outside of School

In Self-Directed Education books and spaces, there is a lot of pushback on environments (ie. conventional schools) that were clearly not designed with children in mind.

However, within this context, a recurring narrative questions the over-diagnosis or even the existence of ADHD and other neurodivergences like dyslexia, as these neurotypes are often not perceived as problems in SDE spaces.

Low and behold - children who need to move, can move. Children who need to have a lot of stimulus (for example, talking all day, big movement games, video games, etc.), can seek out a lot of stimulus. Kids who aren’t yet interested in adult-directed academics will find other ways to learn. This environmental change solves a lot of the problems that neurodivergent children face in traditional classrooms, and as a result many (though not all) no longer exhibit behaviors that are challenging for adults.

But a lack of apparent “ADHD-related problems” says nothing about the existence or lack thereof of ADHD children. Just like the DSM criteria for autism is a list of Autistic distress behaviors, the DSM criteria for ADHD consists of indicators of distress in ADHDers. Acknowledging the existence of ADHD as a neurotype must be distinct from viewing it as a disordered way of being.

There should be no shame in recognizing that certain children with intense movement needs or divergent thinking styles may have an ADHD neurotype. Nor that those with sensory sensitivities may be Autistic. We must demedicalize and destigmatize our understanding of neurodivergence.

Having spent many years in homeschooling, unschooling, and Self-Directed Education settings, I believe that a substantial percentage of people who opt for secular, non-traditional education are neurodivergent. Those of us who have experienced a lifelong mismatch between our needs and social systems are going to be more willing to buck social norms (like kids going to school).

Many people have not yet explored neurodivergence and are unaware of how our understanding around different kinds of minds is changing.² Others reject or feel they have no need for “labels.” Regardless, there are a lot of unidentified neurodivergent people among those who have rejected conventional school and work practices. This is slowly changing though, as awareness of neurodivergence beyond stereotypes becomes more common.

One of the things that neurodivergent children need the most from adults is an unwavering belief that they will continue to develop and unfold in their own time. There’s no point in trying to build the top of a building (for example, certain behavior, academic skills, flexibility) before the foundation is firmly in place (safety, self-awareness, emotional regulation, etc)³.

Those of us who know many neurodivergent adults are better able to stay firmly rooted in our knowledge that our neurodivergent kids are going to be okay. We have more role models to help us imagine the possibilities. And more community to help us create neuro-affirming family cultures.

This is one of the main reasons I have chosen to be openly neurodivergent. As a “successful” adult living a life that makes me happy, I didn’t have to identify as neurodivergent for work or academic reasons. I explored neurodivergence not because I felt there was something wrong with me, but rather to gain deeper self-awareness. Eventually, I wanted to help create space for our next generation of neurodivergent youth to live lives that are more authentically fulfilling. Our neurodivergent kids need to see that there are so many options for them to create lives in which they can thrive.

1. I recently read both Jessica McCabe’s How to ADHD and Tracy Otsuka’s ADHD for Smart Ass Women. They’re both better than most ADHD books out there, yet still fell short of actually questioning the underlying assumptions about ADHD as a brain-based neurodevelopmental disorder. To get that perspective, check out Sonny Jane Wise’s book We’re All Neurodiverse, which I quoted earlier. I’m still looking for a book specifically on ADHD that is based in the Neurodiversity Paradigm.

2. There are many experiences that are difficult to recognize until you hear about them, or have reason to question if your experience is different from someone else’s. For example, I didn’t know that I was aphantasic or that most people actually do see images in their minds, until I was well into adulthood!

3. Neurowild has a great graphic to depict this building block idea: https://www.facebook.com/photo/?fbid=202212259384465&set=a.101087979496894