# 29 - Teaching While AuDHD: Autonomy, Masking, & the Exhaustion of External Validation

In this episode of Quietly Autistic at Last, Dr. Allison Sucamele explores what it’s like to be AuDHD and work as a teacher in today’s education system.

Many autistic and AuDHD adults are naturally drawn to teaching. The classroom can offer structure, routines, creative lesson design, deep subject exploration, and meaningful relationships with students. For many neurodivergent educators, the learning environment itself is energizing and deeply fulfilling, but the teaching profession is not the same thing as the classroom.

Over the past two decades, teaching has shifted from a profession that once allowed significant autonomy to one increasingly shaped by constant collaboration, meetings, evaluations, data tracking, and visible performance metrics. While these systems are often designed to improve outcomes and support teachers, they can unintentionally create invisible exhaustion for neurodivergent educators.

In this episode, we explore the psychological tension many AuDHD teachers experience, including:

• the difference between true collaboration and parallel work
• masking and collaboration fatigue in professional environments
• the pressure of constant visibility and evaluation
• how modern education can reinforce external validation culture in both students and teachers
• and the unique pattern recognition and empathy many AuDHD educators bring to the classroom

This conversation also reflects on the courage it takes to navigate a profession that was not originally designed with neurodivergent minds in mind, and why the perspectives of AuDHD teachers are deeply valuable for the future of education.

If you are a neurodivergent educator who has ever felt the quiet tension between how your brain works and how the system operates, this episode may resonate with you.

You are not alone in this experience.

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Transcript

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Welcome back to Quietly Autistic at Last. I'm your host, Dr. Allison Sukamelli, and this podcast is a space for people who discovered their autism later in life, especially women and those who spent decades quietly masking their differences while trying to navigate a world that was not designed for their nervous systems. Here we talk about autism honestly, gently, and sometimes painfully. We talk about identity, masking, late diagnosis, and the strange experience of looking back at your life and realizing that so many things finally make sense. And today's episode is about something that many autistic and a DHD adults experience but rarely discuss openly. What it is like to be a DHD and work as a teacher. Teaching has always been a complex profession, but in recent years the structure of the job has changed dramatically. The profession has shifted from something that once involved a significant amount of autonomy and independence to something that is now heavily collaborative, heavily monitored, and deeply tied to systems of evaluation and validation. And for many odd DHD educators, that shift has created a kind of invisible exhaustion. And because while teaching may appear to be a collaborative profession on the surface, the reality is that teachers spend most of their day alone in a classroom with students managing dozens of micro decisions every minute. And yet the professional culture surrounding teaching now often demands constant collaboration, constant meetings, constant visibility, and constant proof that you are doing your job correctly. And for many odd DHD teachers, this creates a deep and complicated tension between how our brains function best and how the profession is currently structured. Today we're going to talk about that tension. And we're going to talk about autonomy, masking collaboration fatigue, evaluation culture, and the deeper psychological issue of teaching students to constantly seek external validation. But before we begin, a general reminder that this podcast is for educational and reflective purposes only. It is not therapy or medical advice. Every autistic person's experience is different, and what I share here may resonate deeply with some listeners while feeling very different for others. And if today's episode brings up strong emotions for you, please take care of yourself. Pause, take a breath, and step away if needed. And if you are struggling and need immediate support in the United States, you can contact the 988 Suicide and Crisis Lifeline by calling or texting 988 or visiting 988lifeline.org. You always deserve support when needed. Okay, let's get into this week's episode. So many autistic or all DHD adults end up in teaching for reasons that actually make a lot of sense neurologically. Teaching allows for structure, predictable routines, deep interest in subjects, creative lesson design, and meaningful relationships with students. Many of us genuinely love the learning environment. We love explaining ideas. We love seeing a student suddenly understand something that felt impossible five minutes earlier. We love watching curiosity ignite, but the teaching profession itself is not the same thing as the learning environment. And this distinction becomes incredibly important for all DHD educators. Because while the classroom itself can be stimulating and meaningful, the system surrounding the classroom can be deeply overwhelming. The meetings, the committees, the professional learning communities, the observation protocols, data meetings, instructional coaching, administrative walkthroughs, collaboration blocks, strategic planning meetings, curriculum alignment meetings, and each of these environments involves social interpretation, communication expectations, and masking. And for all DHD teachers, this can quickly become neurologically expensive. And many all DHD individuals function best with a balance of structure and autonomy. Autistic cognition often thrives on predictability and depth, while ADHD cognition thrives on interest, novelty, and creative problem solving. Together, all DHD brains often become extremely effective in environments where we can design our own systems, experiment with approaches, and adjust in real time. And teaching used to allow for more of this. Historically, once teachers closed the classroom door, they had a significant amount of professional autonomy. They designed lessons, they experimented, they adapted to their students, they developed personal teaching styles. But over time, many school systems shifted towards standardization and oversight. And the intention behind this shift was not malicious. Often it came from a desire to improve outcomes, ensure equity, and provide support for teachers. But when systems become too rigid, they can accidentally undermine the very cognitive strengths that many educators bring to the profession, especially educators whose brains do not function in typical ways. And one of the most interesting contradictions in modern teaching is the emphasis on collaboration. Professional learning communities are framed as the key to improvement. Collaboration blocks are built into schedules. But here is the strange reality. Most teachers are not actually working collaboratively for the majority of their day. They are working individually in separate classrooms with different students. This is not the same thing as collaboration in professions where people work on the same project simultaneously. Teaching is often closer to what psychologists call parallel work. Teachers share ideas, teachers align goals, but the moment the bell rings, each classroom becomes its own ecosystem. Each group of students is different. Each class has its own emotional climate. Each teacher adapts constantly in response to those variables. And for all DHD educators, this parallel structure actually makes sense. Because many autistic individuals work best when they can process information internally and implement ideas independently. But the current professional culture sometimes demands continuous collaboration for its own sake, and that can create cognitive friction. And for autistic adults, social interaction often requires conscious processing, things that neurotypical people interpret automatically. Tone, facial expression, and group dynamics may require active analysis. And that analysis consumes energy. Now imagine that process happening not just with students, but also with administrators, department teams, instructional coaches, curriculum coordinators, and committee members. Every meeting becomes a space where you must interpret: am I speaking enough? Am I speaking too much? Do I appear engaged? Am I making the right facial expression? Did I interrupt someone? Was that comment interpreted correctly? This is masking. And masking is neurologically expensive. And research on autistic adults increasingly shows that long-term masking can lead to burnout, chronic exhaustion, identity confusion, and anxiety. And I've been teaching for over 26 years now, and I'll let you do the math on how costly that shift from autonomy to constant so-called collaboration is. Way more than I can afford. And I'm sure some of you understand. And when collaboration becomes constant, masking becomes constant. And when masking becomes constant, the nervous system eventually begins to protest. Weekends are not weekends, they are recovery when there isn't enough time to recover. And we find ourselves in constant survival mode in a system that used to be much kinder to our wiring. But no one else really understands, even when you try to explain it, thus costing us more energy or more spoons. And another shift in modern teaching is the expectation of constant visibility and evaluation. Teachers are often expected to provide evidence of effectiveness through things like data walls, student growth charts, observations, rubrics, and incessant documentation and so on and so on. And again, the intention behind these systems is understandable. Schools want accountability, but for all DHD educators, this can create a subtle psychological pressure that feels like never being allowed to simply do your work quietly. Instead, the system often asks for constant demonstration or performance, usually due to the weakest common denominator in the school who are never held accountable or directly addressed. And this can unintentionally mirror something that many autistic adults experienced growing up: the feeling of being perpetually evaluated. Am I doing this right? Am I meeting expectations? Am I appearing competent? That psychological pressure accumulates over time, even when they are not the problem, and spend all of their heart and soul in the classroom just to be undermined and constantly be asked to do more to prove what they have always been doing. Now we come to one of the deeper psychological issues within modern education. Schools often emphasize external validation systems, grades, rewards, recognition, incentives, public praise, honor roles, leaderboards, certificates. And while some of these tools can motivate students in the short term, there is growing psychological research suggesting that heavy reliance on external validation can actually undermine intrinsic motivation. And when students learn that their worth is measured by grades, points, approval, and recognition, they may begin to lose connection with internal curiosity and internal satisfaction. And this dynamic was explored by psychologists like Edward Desse and Richard Ryan through self-determination theory, which emphasizes the importance of autonomy, competence, and relatedness for intrinsic motivation. And when autonomy is reduced and external rewards dominate, intrinsic motivation can weaken. And the same goes for teachers. And ironically, many teachers, especially in the case of neurodivergent teachers, many entered the profession because they love intrinsic learning. They love curiosity. They love intellectual exploration, they love watching students think. But the system sometimes encourages teachers to train students to constantly ask: is this graded? Does this count? Will this raise my score? Am I doing it right? And that can feel psychologically discouraging. And one of the strengths many autistic individuals have is pattern recognition. We notice systems, we notice inconsistencies, we notice redundancies, we notice psychological dynamics that others may overlook. And many all DHD teachers quietly notice something important about modern education. Students are becoming increasingly anxious about external validation. They worry constantly about grades, they worry about performance, they worry about approval. And this anxiety can sometimes overshadow the actual experience of learning. And for teachers who value curiosity and growth, this can feel heartbreaking because learning should be something that expands a student's mind, not something that shrinks their sense of self. And for many odd DHD educators, there is a kind of double masking that occurs. One mask is for students, teachers regulate their tone, facial expression, and emotional energy to maintain a stable classroom environment. But another mask is often required for the professional culture of education. A teacher may feel overwhelmed by meetings, constant collaboration, or evaluation pressure. I know I do, but expressing that openly may risk being labeled as not collaborative, not flexible, or not a team player. And I've found that if I express myself openly and often about what others are complaining about already, suddenly the finger is pointed at me for doing something wrong, or I am immediately met with strong opposition and in a way that certainly does not make me feel heard or seen, or like my perspective is even something to consider, thus reducing me to an expendable role. And this is why many teachers simply push through, and pushing through becomes the norm until burnout appears. Before we continue, I want to pause for a moment and say thank you for listening to Quietly Autistic at Last. This podcast exists for people who spent years wondering why life felt harder than it seemed for everyone else, and who are now slowly discovering language and understanding for their experiences. If this episode resonates with you, consider sharing it with someone who might benefit from hearing it. You can also support the podcast by leaving a review or sharing the show with your community. Your support helps more late-identified autistic adults find this space. Now let's continue with this week's episode. And one of the most important survival strategies for all DHD teachers is finding small pockets of autonomy within systems that may feel rigid. This might look like designing creative lesson structures, allowing students more choice, building reflective activities, and encouraging curiosity rather than just compliance. And even small shifts towards autonomy can make teaching feel more aligned with your values. And interestingly, these same shifts often benefit students as well, because students thrive when they feel ownership over learning. And it takes courage to be a teacher. It takes an additional layer of courage to be a neurodivergent teacher, navigating systems that were not designed with neurodivergent minds in mind. And even some of our learning platforms that are forced upon us are not neurodivergent friendly, and other teachers bully all DHD teachers who have not conformed to using it. It's crazy to me. And earlier in my career, I felt more supported in the profession, and I did not have so many coworkers inserting themselves into my business. It's usually the incompetent ones who are the loudest. And many Aud educators quietly carry an enormous emotional load. They are supporting students, they are managing complex classrooms, they are masking in professional environments, they are navigating evaluation systems, and they are often doing all of this while slowly realizing that their brain works differently than they were told it should. And if this describes you, I want you to hear this clearly. And AudhD educators may feel that imbalance especially strongly. And if you are an Aud teacher listening to this episode, I hope you remember something important. Your way of thinking, your pattern recognition, your curiosity, your empathy, your ability to see students as whole human beings, those are strengths. And the world needs teachers who see learning not just as a system of evaluation, but as something deeper, something human, something alive. Okay, so there you have it. Thank you for spending this time with me on the Quietly Autistic at Last podcast. If this conversation resonated with you, know that you are not alone. There is a growing community of late-identified autistic adults who are beginning to understand their lives in new ways. And that understanding can be the beginning of something powerful: self-acceptance, self-advocacy, and a quieter kind of freedom. And if you want to join the Quietly Autistic at Last podcast community on Instagram, follow at Quietly Autistic at Last Podcast. Click the link in the episode bio. And until next time, this is Dr. Allison Sukamelli. Take care of your nervous system, be gentle with yourself, and remember you were never broken. You were just navigating a world that didn't yet have the language to understand you. I'll see you next week.