黑料网911

Skip to content
 

Blog post Part of special issue: (Non)belonging: Navigating education and research as a neurodivergent academic

Navigating precarity, uncertainty and neurodiversity as an early career researcher

Elizabeth MacGregor, Teaching Fellow in Music Education and Performance at University of Leeds

Precarity in early career research (Image by Matthew MacGregor)

In the current climate of chronic underfunding and mass redundancy in higher education, navigating the earliest stages of a career in educational research is challenging. Survey findings suggest that over 70 per cent of postdoctoral researchers are employed on fixed-term contracts (Vitae, 2017), with around a third spending more than 10 years in temporary roles (Menard & Shinton, 2022). Early career researchers may, therefore, spend thousands of pounds and hours commuting long distances, renting short-term accommodation, or juggling part-time positions – stressors that can be exacerbated by factors including gender, ethnicity, disability and neurodivergence (HEPI, 2023).

For autistic researchers like me, this can be especially detrimental. Many autistic people thrive on the regularity and security offered by routines, and are most productive, imaginative and collaborative when well supported by consistent and considerate expectations (O’Neil, 2008). However, when such structures are lacking, autistic researchers can be particularly prone to acute anxiety (Hwang et al., 2020). While this may be explicitly disabling, it may often be masked by apparent independence and competence, meaning struggles go unnoticed and unresolved (Evans et al., 2024). As a high-achieving, early career researcher in the field of music education, this has been my experience. While my conscientious work ethic, fastidious precision and intense interests have equipped me for the rigours of undergraduate and postgraduate study at top universities, the same cannot be said for the precarity of early career research.

Disclosure

Following years of persistent mental ill-health, I was diagnosed with autism at the age of 17. Having been seemingly unable to account for my erratic, emotional behaviour as a teenager, I have subsequently prioritised disclosing my autism to colleagues and managers, more as a precaution than as a necessity. Nevertheless, the process of disclosure is one often fraught with anxiety (Brewer, 2022), especially when repeatedly moving between institutions. On one occasion, my disclosure was met with, literally, ‘I don’t care’. While presumably this meant, ‘don’t worry, I won’t treat you any differently’, I felt strongly that the whole point was that I needed them to care – to acknowledge my neurodivergence and, when appropriate, treat me accordingly.

‘I felt strongly that the whole point was that I needed them to care – to acknowledge my neurodivergence and, when appropriate, treat me accordingly.’

Communication

In contrast, there have been times in my career when, on disclosure, colleagues have listened carefully, asked questions and gone out of their way to offer support. One wonderful mentor, colleague and friend checked in with me with a weekly email over several years, both while I was at their institution and when I had moved elsewhere. Our frequent communication kept me accountable not just for the progress of my research, but also for my wellbeing: we chatted about the weather forecast, weekend plans, family news – as well as the ups and downs of academic life.

Boundaries

Those whose care and mentorship has been so valuable to me have also reminded me of the utmost importance of maintaining clear boundaries as an early career researcher. Many of them have had a reflexive self-awareness that acknowledges compromise as an antidote to the precarity of higher education, passing up promotions or working part-time to prioritise family, rest and health. Setting similar boundaries in the hours and days I work has been instrumental in my experience as a neurodivergent early career researcher navigating the uncertainties of academic life, and will, I hope, continue to offer the time, space and perspective necessary for a sustainable and fulfilling research career.


References

Brewer, G. (2022). Disability in higher education: Investigating identity, stigma and disclosure amongst academics. Open University Press.

Evans, J. A., Krumrei-Mancuso, E. J., & Rouse, S. V. (2024). What you are hiding could be hurting you: Autistic masking in relation to mental health, interpersonal trauma, authenticity, and self-esteem. Autism in Adulthood, 6(2), 229–240.

Higher Education Policy Institute [HEPI]. (2023). The lives of early career researchers. The British Academy.

Hwang, Y. I., Arnold, S., Srasuebkul, P., & Trollor, J. (2020). Understanding anxiety in adults on the autism spectrum: An investigation of its relationship with intolerance of uncertainty, sensory sensitivities and repetitive behaviours. Autism, 24(2), 411–422.

Menard, C. B., & Shinton, S. (2022). The career paths of researchers in long-term employment on short-term contracts: Case study from a UK university. PLoS ONE, 17(9), Article e0274486.

O’Neil, S. (2008). The meaning of autism: Beyond disorder. Disability and Society, 23(7), 787–799.

Vitae (2017). Five steps forward: Progress in implementing the Concordat to Support the Career Development of Researchers, 2008–2017. Careers Research and Advisory Centre.