Normal Is Not Neutral | Good Intentions, Hidden Barriers
- Tracy King, MA, CAE
- 4 minutes ago
- 8 min read

Normal Is Not Neutral is a series about the unwritten rules shaping who gets included in professional spaces and who quietly gets left out. Each installment discusses a different facet: volunteer engagement, learning design, events, teaming, communication, and more. This is the first.
On a recent podcast, I was sharing with the host the complications of non-apparent disabilities. For a large proportion of neurodivergent people, you can’t tell how they are disadvantaged and challenged by looking at them. Maybe over time you’ll notice their traits, but it’s not immediately apparent how we accommodate ourselves, how we mask to meet neurotypical expectations, or how harmful it is to operate in a world that views our inherent differences as deficits. All of the extra labor we pour into “appearing normal,” the hypervigilant scanning for f*ck ups, the system wide exhaustion that depletes us to the point of chronic fatigue and illness goes unseen. Unacknowledged.
But that’s not all.
Some of the most challenging ways we experience bias and are dis-abled are also unseen: norms.
Norms are all the unwritten rules the prevailing society deems “correct” or “normal.” Social norms encompass communication (verbal and nonverbal), behavior, and general appropriateness. They are contingent on culture and context. Norms are deeply internalized, so people take for granted that everyone knows what they are, making them hard to see, which makes them hard to change. What might be considered etiquette or expectations, what functions as assumptions, and “just the way we do things” can also be barriers to inclusion. Norms are embedded in power structures and privilege.
Deviations from norms aren’t tolerated.
And when we realize normalized behavior is just something groups of people agree upon, we are empowered to examine them to see whether we need to make different agreements. This means getting curious. It means listening to people who are different from you and disadvantaged by structures you may not have noticed before. It means when you know people are disadvantaged and you perpetuate those norms, you are perpetuating bias and discrimination against them.
Because so many of the norms we swim in are unseen, creating visibility is a first step to rethinking our rules of engagement. How we form an ethical and inclusive community together.
In this series, I’m going to dip into several contexts and unmask invisible challenges. This isn’t an exhaustive norms study, but an opportunity to get curious and to catalyze critical thinking around what we are expected to accept as normal.
We can both intend to be welcoming and uphold norms that perpetuate barriers. The examples I offer here spotlight neurodivergence, but I recommend taking the time to examine this from other lenses as well.
In this first installment, we're looking at volunteer engagement, specifically, the unspoken rules embedded in how organizations recruit, recognize, and advance their volunteers.
Series Part 1: Volunteer Engagement
My design agency primarily serves professional and trade associations. Volunteers are the lifeblood of these member-based organizations, serving roles in a spectrum of opportunities from award selection to event coordination, committees to the board of directors. Volunteer engagement is a measure of the health of an association and keeps professional societies connected with the needs of the industries they represent.
How do you choose who fills these volunteer positions? What are the norms within volunteer selection?
Aside from ADA accessibility and offering a range of opportunities from micro-volunteering to stakeholder leadership, is there a pathway of inclusion to ensure neurodiversity from initial volunteer engagement to leadership commitments? Or is there a ceiling limiting opportunities to contribute? Let’s look at a few examples.
Social norms.
Are there social expectations for members who lend time and talent?
What are the social involvement expectations for those who might rise to leadership roles? They need to “be liked,” “be seen,” “be fun?” Perhaps they need to be non-threatening to the ways things have been done (don’t ask too many questions or challenge traditions).
Is there a certain number of events or ideal number of volunteer engagements a professional must participate in before being selected for a committee or board position, regardless of their expertise?
Are there biases embedded in our “good fit” criteria that might exclude neurodivergent professionals who communicate directly, ask questions, are socially awkward, interrupt conversations, avoid loud social situations, or appear oblivious to implicit social hierarchies?
Neurodivergent folx communicate and socialize differently. They prefer straightforward and honest communication over implicit, vague, or socially-cued interactions. They typically prefer interest-based engagement rather than social-based small talk. They may misinterpret social cues and likewise be misinterpreted. They may engage more easily in a structured social situation than unstructured (read: what the heck are the rules here?!) social situations with overwhelming sensory conditions. They may need processing time rather than being the first to jump in extemporaneously. Neurodivergent people can be introverts or extraverts and still need to hang back from social engagements to manage their energy, making being seen on the regular a challenge. The likelihood of neurodivergent pros being misunderstood is high (ask Claude about the double empathy problem). There are numerous studies that neurotypical people like and prefer neurotypical people, often disliking and stigmatizing neurodivergent people (especially Autistics). It is likely a subconscious rejection based on perceptions of difference rather than a conscious choice, but this subconscious “likeability” meter can disqualify some of your most insightful volunteer leaders.
Examine whether there is inherent bias in how you frame “good fit” and “likeability” of prospective volunteers during selection? Are there social energy expectations to “be seen” and “be fun” that inform how you identify volunteer leaders?
Time investment norms.
What are the time commitment norms?
Are volunteer time investment expectations communicated clearly?
How are time investment norms structured?
Are there expectations for how much time must be invested before being considered for volunteer leader roles?
It’s easy to think that we all have the same hours in a day, so those who invest more time volunteering are more dedicated to the cause. It’s easy to think, but it isn’t true. Neurodivergent folx have a complicated relationship with time. Time blindness, a distorted perception of time and how long tasks will take, is common. This can result in thinking a task might be quick and then a deadline passes because other demands and nested tasks within the main task derail completion. In addition to work, homelife, and responsibilities, neurodivergent pros spend a great deal of their day managing nervous system regulation, navigating sensory sensitivities, masking exhaustion, and severe dopamine deficiencies, leaving little time to dedicate elsewhere for sustained periods. We can carve out more capacity with supports, but it is a fact that neurodivergent people require more rest.
Is less bandwidth for time investment disqualifying for your volunteer roles, and leadership selection, or do you lean more heavily into quality of contribution?
Labor norms.
Do you have “pay your dues” norms requiring free labor volunteering before being considered for strategic volunteering?
Is “productivity” tied to volunteer worth rather than valued perspective and specialized contributions?
Studies affirm that neurodivergent professionals are the most overqualified and underemployed in the workforce, frequently experiencing opportunity and pay gaps. Neurodivergent pros dominate entrepreneurship with their specialized skills, innovative problem solving and divergent thinking gifts, but a large number of these entrepreneurs own their own business because labor structures and traditional employment do not work for them. Self-employment is a necessity, and 40-50+ hour weeks are impossible. Requiring free labor to be a valuable volunteer is problematic. Not only because of the energy and time constraints mentioned above, but we have to interrogate what we mean by labor and whether our expectations are appropriate and ethical. Neurodivergent neurotypes lean into specialization. Their greatest gifts to contribute may not look like the typical labor format. They may be analytical skills, divergent thinking and facilitation, complex problem solving, synthesis, interest-based expertise, forging partner relationships, strategic mapping, pattern recognition, etc. which don’t neatly appear in the labor column of most task group and working committee DOING roles. Consider opportunities to structure and right-size labor expectations. Be sensitive about expecting neurodivergent pros to contribute free labor that they typically get paid for. Consider diversifying what contribution means.
Reflect on whether/how much/what kinds of free labor are a requirement for selection to stakeholder roles. Is that where the opportunity ceiling lies?
Socioeconomic norms.
Are there unwritten rules for different volunteer opportunities around donating money, sponsoring, exhibiting, or consulting for free?
Is an uninterrupted and longstanding membership dues track record a check in the yes column over an equally qualified volunteer who hasn’t renewed consistently?
Are there any other pay-for-play expectations for volunteer roles that discourage those who can’t commit those resources from participation?
It is well documented that it costs more to simply exist as a neurodivergent person (the neurodivergent tax includes medical and therapeutic services, medication, higher insurance, supportive tools and tech, higher food costs due to sensitivities, replacing lost items, additional costs for comfortable travel / transportation, etc.). Pair that disadvantage with being paid less and socioeconomic norms can make volunteering prohibitive. Volunteering is a privilege, but it also often comes with a level of socioeconomic privilege when we do not interrogate these norms. Often these decisions are made in business model, budget and policy rooms without considering the unintended consequences of disenfranchisement. If the same people are volunteering, there is a reason why. Socioeconomic status may be one of those reasons.
Does less financial contribution, less wealth, and pay-to-play structures preclude qualified neurodivergent leaders from serving your organization?
Consistency norms.
When you consider volunteer candidates, are you looking for consistent and uninterrupted membership, event attendance, yearly volunteering, and financial contributions?
Is consistency over time a signal of commitment to your organization and a requirement to contribute to strategic volunteer positions?
The divergent neurotypes have less access to consistent energy and commonly struggle with chronic fatigue, illness, and burnout which require pulling back from external commitments and prioritizing rest. Autistic and ADHD burnout is very different from neurotypical burnout. It’s not rooted in stress and overwork that can be addressed with time off and reprioritization. Burnout for neurodivergent folx is triggered by a chronic state of physical, emotional, and nervous system exhaustion that results in intensified sensory sensitivities and systemic shutdown. Instead of a laptop update reboot, it’s the sad face on a Mac that’s done for. Burnout can last months to years, making consistency of even daily routines impossible. It’s not uncommon for neurodivergent professionals to volunteer and then disappear for a while. It’s also not uncommon for those same professionals to encounter barriers to re-entry after they have taken time away to manage their health.
Is consistency the gold standard of eligibility for your organization choosing volunteer leaders? Does being present consistently equate to being qualified? Or do you lean into expertise, skill, diversity, valuable POVs to ensure a strong and innovative group?
When we peek beneath the hood of unspoken rules and norms for how we choose volunteers, we have the opportunity to address inherent unseen barriers to neuroinclusion. While many established norms may have been forged with good intent, there may be unintended consequences that erect and perpetuate barriers. This is one essential way that accessibility is different from inclusion. While accessibility may bridge structural barriers upon request, neuroinclusion asks us to take initiative to see and remove barriers to full participation.
Because we can’t just keep asking neurodivergent people to adapt. Systems and norms must also evolve.
This post is part of Normal Is Not Neutral, a series peeling back the hidden norms that shape who gets to fully participate in professional life. In this series I'm making the unseen visible so we can have an honest conversation about the rules we've agreed to without realizing it, and decide together whether we want different agreements. There's more to uncover. Follow me on LinkedIn and subscribe to our enews so you don't miss the next installment.