The Edge Magazine Vol. 8

When designing this piece for The Edge, our designers chose neutral, muted, mind-friendly colors that offer a soothing, safe and calming environment and avoided over-stimulating colors and those that some neurodiverse people perceive as fluorescent or too intense.

As someone who navigates the assets and liabilities of both autism and ADHD, Elizabeth identifies as neurodivergent—meaning she’s neurologically divergent from neurologically typical, or neurotypical, folks. That doesn’t mean it’s difficult for her to connect with others or do her job well. Elizabeth’s colleagues adore her—not only for her intelligence and depth of knowledge but also for her enthusiasm and disarming sense of humor. They describe her as thoughtful, caring and blunt—but in a great way. They also say she is supportive, creative, and articulate with complex topics and abstract feelings—and that she’s the epitome of a team player, always looking to engage and help in any way she can. It’s clear that her co-workers don’t accept Elizabeth despite her neurodivergence—they embrace her because of it. They’re asking questions like, “How do we find more talent like Elizabeth?” and “How do we keep the Elizabeths we already have?” They’re not alone in asking questions like these. From household names like Microsoft and Citibank to England’s Manchester City soccer team and even the local zoo , organizations around the world are recognizing that diversity, equity and inclusion (DEI) incorporates forms of diversity that go beyond race, gender and religion to include neurological differences like dyslexia, autism and ADHD. They’re affirming that an authentic DEI initiative is one that not only embraces

and opens opportunities for the neurodivergent—by some estimates, 15-20% of the global population, and growing—but also develops an inclusive culture and creates mind-friendly work environments to support a neurodiverse workforce. In theory, that looks like inclusive design, with spaces that accommodate everyone. But people, whether neurodivergent or not, work and interpret their workspaces differently. The same environment that relaxes or energizes some people can overwhelm or threaten others. The constant beeps, pings and background conversations of a conventional open-floorplan office, for example, might not faze a neurotypical person, but it might make their neurodiverse colleague feel like they’re being thrown into the middle of a crowd. The hour-long commute to the office and expectation to sit at a desk all day might not bother someone with neurotypicality, but it might send his or her co-worker into a tailspin of frustrating distraction and sensory overload. Even patterns, like the black and white zigzags on office chairs, which some might consider to be stylish and sophisticated, may cause others to experience dizziness or even crippling vertigo. In other words, inclusive design—though well-intended—isn’t always inclusive enough. Considering the many ways in which a neurodiverse population experiences physical space—and designing for those diverse experiences—puts us on a clearer path to creating less stressful, more supportive places to work.

19