There is an old cliché saying that goes “humor is the best medicine” and in regard to my everyday routine, it couldn’t be closer to the truth. So far, my college life has been plagued with some of my most embarrassing moments to date. For that I can thank my tics, or in other words, the noises and movements I can’t control resulting from a neurological condition known as Tourette Syndrome.

Humor has always been my coping mechanism when it comes to things I can’t control, and the same goes for my diagnosis. I don’t particularly find my disorder humorous in itself, but I have to admit it gives me a lot of material for when I need a fun fact during syllabus week. I have become a comedian in my own right: I allow others to laugh at my misfortune. But, I would be lying if I said I didn’t do so to try and make my life more bearable for myself.

These stories may seem funny on the surface; I design them to be that way. I have painted an image that portrays myself as a confident individual who has overcome the struggles of their disorder, when my reality does not mirror this persona.

What appears to be a light-hearted story about accidentally interrupting my Sociology 101 lecture is actually one of the most mortifying moments of my fall 2021 semester. When people watch me almost wipe out on the ice at Tennity Ice Pavilion, they don’t recognize the willpower I am exerting to not spontaneously kick my legs out. No one sees the bruises, the dry skin and the sleepless nights. No one understands the constant fear of interrupting fellow students while studying in Carnegie Library or my consistent anxiety spiral from letting out squeaks during exams.

The truth is I feel like the odd one out, and I think that is partly because it’s true. I know logically there are other students who feel the same way as me, either due to their own tics or similar conditions. Being on such a large campus, surrounded by thousands of people every single day, one can’t help but look around and feel alone in their struggles. Sure, people are supportive, my friends are amazing and the professors have been understanding. But I have yet to meet a single person at Syracuse University who gets it.

There is a lack of awareness within SU’s student body in regard to neurodiversity. For decades, those of us born with neurological differences have been taught to try and conform to what is seen as normal. We are told to mimic the neurotypical person, so how can we expect our peers to view us as anything but?

There should be no excuse for the lack of education regarding such a diverse subject matter, yet people brush the neurodiverse off as if we are just another bullet point to hit while discussing how inclusive they are.

I shouldn’t have to be embarrassed. I shouldn’t have to play my Tourette’s off as a joke simply because it seems to be the only way my tics are received in a positive light. I’m not claiming to be an expert activist or to know how to bring change amongst an entire group of people, but I understand why said change needs to be brought about.

I understand the need for education and the normalization of neurodivergent lives in our society, especially at the university level. So I chose to write this piece and share my experiences, in the hopes that someone out there can say, “Hey, I get it,” and hopefully feel seen while navigating this sea of unrealistic neurotypical expectations.

Grace “Gray” Reed is a freshman magazine, news and digital journalism major. Their column appears bi-weekly. They can be reached at greed04@syr.edu.

Published on February 16, 2022 at 8:31 pm