Auticon is a social enterprise on a mission to reduce barriers to employment for autistic and other neurodivergent adults. All the IT & Data consultants they employ are autistic.
Helen studied Astrophysics at the University of St Andrews and then completed a PhD in Astronomy and Astrophysics at the University of Geneva.
“My mum calls it my poker face…I’ve always been good at hiding what I’m thinking and feeling from most people. In fact, I often adopt a mask that shows you the opposite of what is going on inside my head, or one that matches your face — if you look happy, then so do I! This is one of the things I need to exist in a world where everyone is given the same rulebook, but it’s written in a language I don’t understand. From behind my poker face, I’m watching everyone, trying to figure out what the rules might be.
As a child, my parents tried multiple times to get an autism diagnosis but, because it was poorly understood in girls, I always tested as ‘borderline’. And without a diagnosis, no one was interested in giving assistance. But, on the whole, during my school years I managed relatively well. Most days I would come home and instantly fall sleep for an hour or two in front of the television. Classrooms filled with dozens of children whilst you are trying to learn something will knock it out of you.
Doing my A-levels, things got a little harder. The rulebook changed as we became adults. As I juggled more advanced classes, I was trying to catch-up to the new rules everyone else suddenly had and, moving to university, it was even more so. Instead of me treading water alone, my university had a fantastic support system in place — the disability team. Even for someone without a formal diagnosis, there was help for anyone who needed it. They knew how to navigate the things that can trip you up.
It was my disability adviser at university who encouraged me to go for one last try at a diagnosis. And whilst my very long conversation with the psychologist felt a little like pulling teeth (for me, not him), two diagnostic questionnaires and a month later, I was finally formally diagnosed as autistic. *Cue the hallelujah chorus*. With that in my back pocket, it was easier for me and my disability adviser to find resources and assistance that meant I didn’t just survive university, but thrived. That’s not to say there weren’t difficult moments, just that when they happened, I knew I had an army of people to help me through them.
The years after university weren’t particularly easy. Moving to a new country to do a PhD meant a whole new rulebook to learn and it included things that were confusing and sometimes downright unfair, not to mention a language I didn’t speak. And I decided to do it without disclosing I was autistic. Initially, I just wanted to see how far I could go but it soon changed to not wanting to out myself as someone who was different or challenging. In an early conversation with a group of peers, one suggested that autistic people didn’t belong. Getting to know this person, I’m certain they didn’t mean it the way it was said… but you can’t escape the fact that they said it anyway.
One of the biggest things I struggle with is my self-doubt. I’m highly skilled at convincing myself I’m not good enough. The constant battle with Imposter Syndrome is hard when you already feel on the outside by just being neurodivergent. And it gets a lot harder when someone actually (untruthfully) accuses you of not being enough – compounded by the doom of COVID and lockdowns, that was a traumatic time. But even a soul-destroying moment can generate a silver lining. Not only did I get to see this person’s true colours, but also my own. By being who I am — autism and all — I had a horde of friends and colleagues who circled me and shored me up. They reminded me who I was, all of the good things and carefully explained precisely how all the negative claims weren’t true.
In the past couple of years, I’ve learned more about me and my autism. Whilst I have difficulties — my immense self-doubt, easily overwhelmed by people and sounds and information, and missing social cues – to just name a few, I have valuable qualities as well. I consider myself to be a good friend. I can view things from different angles and I question my thoughts and actions before I say or do them. I want to help others and right wrongs. I work hard and I am good at what I do (even if I forget that most of the time). And ‘all it takes’ to do all of that is to have music in headphones, carefully plan and research everything that I do, and always have my poker face at the ready.
Working at auticon, I get a lot of help — talking things through every week with my job coach really helps. And it’s important to be treated as an independent adult and not as a permanently needy and disabled person. Whilst normal things like commuting are tiring, I really miss the travelling like I did during my PhD — it sounds silly, but a 30-mile trip to ‘the office’ feels harder than travelling to London, Germany, the USA or Chile. And although I can find it hard to chat with both friends and strangers, I miss giving talks to hundreds. There is more to me than data and coding, and it’s important to share that and the good word about autism with everyone.”
If you are autistic and interested in the careers that auticon offer, you can find out more on their website: Careers – auticon United Kingdom
If you have any questions about auticon, you are welcome to connect with Sharon Cant, Recruitment Marketing Specialist in the auticon Scotland team on LinkedIn or via Sharon.Cant@auticon.co.uk
Sharon used to work at the University of Edinburgh Careers Service so would be delighted to hear from University of Edinburgh students or graduates.
UoE Physics Careers Blog 