by Kristen De Deyn Kirk
One Definition Of Neurodivergence
“Neurodivergent refers to natural variations in how people think, process, communicate, and experience the world. This includes autism, ADHD, dyslexia and other cognitive differences.
But that definition only scratches the surface. Neurodivergence isn’t just what someone has; it’s how they move through the world. It shapes attention, energy, communication, sensory experience, problem solving, even identity.
It’s not a deficit lens; it’s a difference lens. And more important: It’s a context-dependent experience. A trait that looks like a challenge in one environment can be a strength in another.”
—As Shared by Chelsea Piechowski, Chief Wellness Officer, Randolph College, and Licensed Professional Counselor
Jenn Brooks Kaluza never told anyone at work that she is neurodivergent. She knows she could have spoken up.
“I’m a very black-and-white person,” the former healthcare chief operating officer said, “and when in meetings, sometimes you’re expected to read between the lines and understand unsaid things. I really struggled with that, and that hurt me in my career.”
She wishes she had requested a simple accommodation: “After our meetings, can I send you my meeting notes, just to confirm I understood everything correctly?”
The request is one of the low-cost accommodations she has shared with employers and employees since 2024 when she founded CAYA—Come As You Are, a nonprofit with work and social programs for adults with autism. Several years before, Kaluza’s children were diagnosed as neurodivergent—one with autism and the other with attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD). She has dyslexia, which affects her verbal processing, and ADHD. Kaluza didn’t know until she was in her late thirties. For years, she had been told that she suffered only from anxiety and depression.
Heading up CAYA, Kaluza educates neurotypical and neurodivergent individuals and eases their work systems. One of her first CAYA accomplishments: hosting a neuroinclusive job fair at Batten University (then named Virginia Wesleyan University) in Virginia Beach.
Some jobseekers first completed Work READY, Future Strong, an evidence-based learning program with 12 modules Kaluza developed with Rhonda Osisek, founder of Social Butterflies, a social skills club for children. It teaches social behavioral communication, executive function, resume writing, and interview prep.
Making employees feel welcome
Prior to the job fair, Kaluza offered neuroinclusion training for business owners and managers. She continues to provide training sessions.
“Employers are afraid that they’re going to do something wrong,” she said. “‘Disabilities’ is almost like a four-letter word to a lot of employers, because they don’t know what they should do. I demystify ‘reasonable accommodations.’”
Kaluza emphasizes that accommodations don’t necessarily require money. For a neurodivergent person, it might be more like a manager asking:
- What is your preferred communication method? Email? Verbal? Zoom meeting?
- Do you need flexible work hours?
- Do you need noise-canceling headphones?
- Do you prefer a table lamp instead of overhead LED lights?
“These things make a huge change in your culture with your employees,” Kaluza continued. “These are very basic, simple things that are low-to no-cost that make every employee, regardless of being neurodivergent, feel welcome, safe. That’s when you’re going to get top production. That’s when you get high retention. I really try to share the ‘value add’ of these practices and that they’re good for everyone.”
Considering needs first
Systems matter, said Chelsea Piechowski, chief wellness officer at Randolph College in Lynchburg and a licensed professional counselor specializing in neurodivergence and whole person wellness. As a founding member of the Wellness Collective and an organizational/workplace consultant, she encourages organizations to be proactive.
“Don’t make accommodations reactive,” she advised. “Build environments where fewer accommodations are needed in the first place.”
Piechowski is conducting research for her doctorate dissertation at University of Lynchburg, exploring neurodivergent adults’ transition from higher education into the workplace. She is interviewing adults who were diagnosed later in life and are participating in a neurodivergent book club centered on The Canary Code by Ludmila Praslova.
“Diagnosis often creates a kind of turning point, a reframing of self. People begin to reinterpret past struggles not as personal failure, but as unmet needs within systems that weren’t designed for them,” Piechowski, who was diagnosed as neurodivergent in college, explained. “The workplace becomes a critical site of that tension. It can either reinforce masking and burnout—or become a space where people finally operate in alignment with how their brain works.
My work focuses on how organizations can shift from ‘fit the person to the system’ to ‘design systems that actually fit people.’”
Creating predictability and clarity
Piechowski recommends organizations take the following actions:
- Build predictability into roles (clear expectations, structured workflows)
- Offer flexibility in how work gets done, not just when
- Train managers on neurodiversity and inclusive leadership
- Rethink hiring practices; traditional interviews often screen out strong candidates
- Create psychologically safe environments where disclosure isn’t punished
She’s worked with the author of The Canary Code and supports one of the book’s key takeaways: When organizations pay attention to the people who are struggling most in their systems—the “canaries”—they get early warning signs of what’s broken.
Her observation echoes CAYA founder Kaluza’s: Employers who respond well to neurodivergent employees’ needs create better systems for everyone.
“Anything designed with neurodivergent individuals in mind—clear communication, flexible structures, psychologically safe environments—benefits the entire workforce,” she said. “It’s not a niche solution. It’s a systems upgrade.”
Piechowski has helped build environments grounded in clarity, structure, and flexibility.
“That’s not about accommodation; it’s about good design,” she said, “and when you get the design right, it doesn’t just support me, it opens the door for a whole range of people to do their best work.”
Employees who identify as neurotypical can improve work systems for everyone as well. Piechowski suggests they start with clarity and curiosity, not assumptions, and continue with these practices:
- Be direct and explicit in communication
- Don’t rely on reading between the lines
- Normalize different communication styles (some people process verbally, others need time)
- Reduce social pressure around things like eye contact or small talk
- Respect boundaries and sensory needs
“And honestly, just ask,” she concluded. “‘What helps you do your best work?’ is a powerful question when it’s asked with sincerity.”
Discussions about neurodiversity often focus on the types of brain differentiations that present in an obvious way to observers. But there are more subtle types of neurodiversity. These “invisible” conditions often involve masking behaviors on the part of high-performing employees as they seek to hide their challenges. For this feature, four neurodivergent
VistaMedia associates agreed to share their stories.
Cara Cullen
Cara Cullen, Account Executive, VistaMedia
Late-diagnosed ADHD and autism means I spent decades developing workarounds for systems that weren’t built for my brain. But it’s hidden. I don’t present the way people expect neurodivergence to look. I’m articulate, social, and good at reading rooms—skills I built out of necessity. I can hold a room, manage client relationships, and navigate complex dynamics. What isn’t visible is the recovery time that makes that possible, or the fact that a packed week of interaction can sideline me for days.
I’ve learned to treat recovery like infrastructure. Quiet mornings. Written communication over calls when possible. Ruthless calendar blocking for deep focus work. ADHD makes starting hard; autism makes ‘good enough’ feel genuinely painful. The combination means I can hyperfocus for twelve hours and still feel like I failed.
An empowering workplace trusts people to know and manage themselves. Flexible schedules, asynchronous communication, outcome-based evaluation, and a culture where accommodations don’t signal weakness. Most employers have no idea how much value neurodivergent individuals bring to the table. Our minds spot patterns others overlook, we think six steps ahead, and we come up with fresh solutions. When neurodivergent individuals feel safe and supported, they don’t just meet expectations; they routinely shatter them.
Beth Hester
Beth Hester, Managing Editor, CoVaBIZ
Sensory hypersensitivity causes me to seek control over my work environment. Wafting fumes from plug-in scent diffusers, candles, potpourri, strong perfumes, and highly-scented laundry detergents are invasive to the point where I become agitated, and have difficulty concentrating. Employers can easily implement a scent-neutral workplace by banning scent diffusing devices, and by mandating reduced scent, or scent-free cleaning products. It’s a workplace—not a living room. I’m baffled by what seems to be the ‘Febrezeification’ of America.
Dyscalculia, a lifelong condition which impacts an individual’s ability to deal with numbers-based tasks, is another way I diverge from the mean. It took me forever to learn how to tell time. At her wits end, my mother made a paper plate clock for me—using a brass split pin to affix the big and little construction paper hands. She did everything she could to find a way to help me visualize the concept. To this day, if someone asks me the time, I have to think about it for a second. I can’t see numbers or do math in my head, and I use a calculator to figure out percentages. Don’t even ask me about the metric system. Panic washes over me when I have to deal with spread sheets as I find them visually overwhelming. This can be hard for people to understand.
Phone numbers or accounting entries can be problematic as number sequences create a rhythm in my brain that’s hard to describe. For example, while a number sequence might be 63748, my brain hears 63784—perhaps because it sounds better to the musicians in my head. I’ve had to ask co-workers to present certain types information to me in an alternate form, explaining that it’s just the way my brain works, and that I’m not being intractable. Back in the day, I would have tried to mask these issues and muddle through, but I haven’t done so for a long time; it’s too exhausting. I just try to be upfront about my number-centric challenges.
IJ James
IJ James, Independent IT Contractor, VistaMedia
Living with ADHD, and undergoing an autism evaluation, I find these labels a shorthand for communication differences. My neural wiring allows me to optimize complex systems and identify operational inconsistencies, which has been highly beneficial in web development and project management.
Despite these strengths, I face challenges in verbal communication, preferring written correspondence where I can carefully edit my thoughts. I often use asides and occasionally delve too deep into technical details, forgetting that complex mechanics like DNS settings aren’t intuitive for everyone.
Employers can best support neurodivergent staff by responding positively to their needs. Essential accommodations like dimmed lighting, quiet workstations, or the freedom to move is proven to enhance productivity. Removing the fear of judgment allows neurodivergent talent to openly communicate and flourish in a workplace.
A hybrid or modified workweek was transformative for me. Remote work eliminated office distractions and accommodated my ADHD-related delayed sleep cycle, which made a 9-to-5 schedule unproductive. A flexible environment allowed me to work longer and more effectively during my strongest focus periods.
Emily Mook
Emily Mook, Associate Editor for Lynchburg Publications, VistaMedia
As someone who was diagnosed with inattentive ADHD in my mid-30s, I am exceedingly well-acquainted with the concept of masking. Because I have always been high-functioning, ADHD symptoms that have accompanied me since childhood—intense internalized shame and sensitivity to perceived or actual rejection, persistent and sometimes debilitating anxiety, and sensory hypersensitivity, among others—were either missed entirely, cloaked under the shiny exterior of achievement, or attributed to labels that I have borne throughout my life: “highly sensitive” and “overemotional.”
Over time, the sting of these labels (which were lobbed most relentlessly at me by my own hand) unsurprisingly caused me to retreat further and further inward and to constantly calibrate and attempt to maintain an unflappable persona. As you might imagine, this “plan” ultimately proved futile as I entered adulthood.
Rather than dwell on the past professional experiences that preceded my ADHD diagnosis, I want to share that I am grateful now to have a career in which I am empowered to fully express and advocate for myself and which values the unique creativity and deep care I bring to my position. Additionally, having a work-from-home career affords me the opportunity to control my own sensory environment and the flexibility to move among different workspaces to optimize focus and workflow.
Receiving my ADHD diagnosis set me free in many ways and directly led to me understanding myself and my worth, which in turn led to me pursuing a career that also values and accommodates me, complexities and all.
