Meg Shaw, Deakin University

“You know, we thought you could have had ADHD as a child”, my mum told me as we sat down together to meet with a doctor for the first time. That was the first I’d heard of it. 

She went on to explain that my parents had never mentioned it to me growing up, as although I showed some signs and symptoms, it rarely impacted my schooling, my friendships, or any other large part of my childhood. If I could get by without that ‘label’, surely I was better off? 

Here’s the thing, what we know about ADHD is full of misconceptions and bias. We see ADHD as the loud, hyper, and likely annoying kid in class. The one who can’t sit still, can’t finish homework and is prone to emotional outbursts. The kind of person that would not, by any stretch of the imagination, be suited to academia. But most of us don’t fit into that definition. 

Instead, ADHD is a mix of strengths and weaknesses. For example, I get easily distracted by noise, changes in lighting, hunger, and anything else that will draw me away from things I don’t want to do. But, I am hyper-focused on the things I want to do, and when I’m in that mode, I can accomplish two or three days of work in one stretch. I can zone out in meetings and not be able to tell you anything that was said, but I know what works for me and thus feel I’m a clear communicator when I need to speak. I can be impulsive and think I can take on two projects outside of my PhD, teach a class, and have time for a fitness regime and a social life, but I’m also able to think creatively and draw inspiration from the things I take on.  

Most people I’ve talked to with ADHD would tell you similar stories about themselves. And there’s more of us chasing diagnoses every day. Before Covid-19, we’ve existed in the structure and routine that academia creates. The pandemic, working from home, and having no set time to wake up, go to work or no social outlet has meant that many people with ADHD are starting to realise, they cannot shut their brain off. Productivity wanes, overwhelm kicks in, and we start to think we cannot do the job we once did well. Isolation is rarely an environment where people with ADHD thrive. 

The consequences of being without support now outweigh the risks of facing the bias and misconceptions. Academia, although structured and sometimes rigid, requires productivity, motivation, and determination. These are things we all struggle with, and the pandemic has made them even more prominent. For those with ADHD, the pressure to perform in a less suitable environment can be overpowering. 

A colleague who wishes to remain anonymous put it like this, “Academia often relies on you being at your best. I thrived in the office, whilst teaching and whilst staying active. But take away all of the things that gave me the opportunity to use my energy, and that energy had nowhere to go. Instead, my mind would be racing and I couldn’t keep up with it. It was overwhelming”

But being open and honest about ADHD and asking for the things you need is also overwhelming. In a world where achievement, discipline and productivity are our measures of success, asking for accommodations can feel like admitting weakness. However, accommodating for ADHD is accommodating for neurotypical people too. Academics worldwide can benefit from a mix of audio and visual aids in presentations. Everyone can benefit from clear explanations, void of jargon where possible. And most importantly, everyone benefits from regular conversations about managing motivation and productivity. 

I now sign my emails with the following note, “As someone with ADHD, I only check my emails twice a day to ensure I’m not too distracted during the working day. If I miss your email or something is urgent, please feel free to send me a reminder”. I do this because if I can be honest with my students and colleagues, maybe they’ll feel like they can find help themselves. 

If academia is a team game, ADHD researchers can still be key players, as can any researcher with a neurodivergence or disability. The more variety you have on your team, the more varied your team’s strengths are. It’s time we stopped looking at our differences as a disadvantage. Academia and research are no longer stagnant career paths.  As this field evolves, it’s time we started recognising that we need new and varied insights, creative thinking, and clear communication. Someone with ADHD could be just what you need, and having a neurodivergence is nothing to be ashamed of.