Monday 12th May 2025: Breaking the Boundaries

TL;DR – order Breaking the Boundaries here.

Hello everyone!

As most of you will know, I spend most of my working hours not doing speaking engagements, writing, or updating this blog (perish the thought!). I am a DSA-funded autistic mentor. All disabled university students in the UK qualify for something called Disability (or Disabled) Student Allowance. In England, DSA is part of Student Finance England, the body that allocates funding for students to go to university. DSA is, unlike student loans, not connected to your success at university, nor is it a loan. It is a small pot of money, essentially, given alongside student loans, to level the playing field between non-disabled and disabled students. A variety of things are funded through it. For dyslexic students, for example, there’s text-to-speech and speech-to-text software. For mobility-impaired students, DSA funds accessible student housing and modifications to help students be as independent as possible. For autistic students, we get study skills tutors and specialist mentors. These professionals are (we hope) qualified and experienced in helping autistic young people through the mess that is university.

In 2021, I became a specialist mentor. I’ve also begun working as a study skills tutor. This came after 9 years of supplementing my income as a personal tutor, mainly in English and modern foreign languages. I was also a part of the National Tutoring Programme. The students who I worked best with always happened to be autistic, too. I taught German to a young woman from when she was 16, all the way through 6th form and into University. Funnily enough, when she was 18, she was diagnosed with autism. We’re still in touch, too. I also taught English to a young man who was already diagnosed autistic and had been out of education for a while. I stuck around when it seemed that most professional educators had given up on him: he is now at University as well. As an English teacher at language schools, I made connections to students other staff found difficult or frustrating to work with, finding ways to make their time at the school accessible and rewarding. All this seemed to come easily to me. I didn’t need a variety of CPD or training to do what already was there by my nature: empathy.

I believe that specialist mentors for autistic students should be autistic. Not to say that neurotypical mentors aren’t good at their jobs – they certainly can be! – but there is a ceiling for how naturally they empathise with us, explained through the Double Empathy Problem (and, for that matter, neurochauvinism). There is a gap there, some emotional labour still required, in order for genuine collaboration to happen. This labour is to be provided, usually, by the student. Either the students put in that work, or, more often, they don’t. The mentor should work for the student, not the other way around.

Autistic mentors have been there, done that and bought the T-shirt, often at the expense of their own physical and mental wellbeing, usually without any assistance whatsoever. I certainly did. I dropped out of university 3 times – first from a journalism degree, then from a theatre and media studies BA, then drama school. I took 4 years over a 3 year BA. I took 3 years over a 1 year MA. I was 28 when I graduated from my Master’s. Education was never easy for me, even if I had been told as a child that I was “gifted” (ugh!). I’ve bought the t-shirt, when it comes to education. That was one of the titles I had in mind when it came to this book.

I knew that my partner and I would be moving to Bath in September 2021, so I contacted universities there to see if I could be of use to them. That led me to contact the first mentoring company I worked for, who provided me with work for nearly 3 years.

In 2023, I was contacted out of the blue by Michael Boezi, from Lived Places Publishing (hi Michael!), who found me through an email bank of people associated with the AAUP, an organisation of University Presses (publishing houses associated with a university, often publishing academic texts). I did a talk for them in 2021, before I started as a mentor. Michael and I got talking, sending emails back and forth, and we set up a meeting. I thought I could contribute to their list of lived-experience disabled professionals talking about their work – plus, they published Yenn Purkis, a neurodivergent Australian author and activist who I really respect.

The title, Breaking the Boundaries, developed out of a few other ideas (‘bought the t-shirt’, ‘balance the see-saw’) that all contained the central notions the book was trying to work through: the lived experience of one person can and should work to support that of others. I chose ‘Breaking the Boundaries’, because of, first of all, a critique of a culture of fetishising limitations at the cost of service users I saw working in other environments. In most cases, “boundaries” are never a problem, unless you’re autistic, in which case you have to be mindful of the boundaries of the professionals you’re engaging with. This mindset, I believe, has some very healthy foundations but in practice it’s just another way the system says “no” to you. Instead, I believe that it’s wisest to follow the students’ needs and indicate boundaries in collaboration with that student. Apart from in very rare cases, they will always respect them. Besides, knowing that there is someone who will have your back is itself pretty huge for a young person in an unfamiliar environment.

I was also inspired by queer activists and movements that have mentorship, informal or otherwise, as a part of their support networks. Since I came out, I have been blessed with a close-knit group of fellow queers who are my ‘chosen family.’ They keep me grounded, they tell me to stop working when I’m doing too much and they call me out on my bullshit. They help me de-escalate and I do the same for them. This is what friendship is for, supporting one another and providing loving, but not uncritical, support. But this is complex emotional labour. Not everyone can do it, it doesn’t come naturally and friendships like this are a lot of effort, which is obviously compounded by being autistic. The world is a lot to us, we’re usually exhausted from the sheer muchness of the universe. What we need is something we often can’t get from our friends, because they are also still figuring it out.

Mentorship is, as I say in the book, “a kind of friendship”. It can never be a full friendship, that requires reciprocity and equality. Mentorship cannot be that, ever. One of you gets paid, for a start! But the relationships we build with our mentees is, by necessity, very intimate. We are the first port of call for these young people in new and unfamiliar environments. If they are in a bad state, they will first come to us. For people with bad intentions, there are plenty of opportunities to abuse that power, which I warn against. I have been lucky that I never had to escalate a student’s care to mental health services, but I would if I had to. I have never needed to get someone out of hospital, prison or post their bail.

Not all mentoring relationships went well; both of us being autistic doesn’t necessarily mean we’ll get on. But I have always been emotionally honest with my students. They benefit from me unmasking. For some, that’s confronting, but in all cases, educational. This book is made up of 15 case studies where I talk about students’ progress and development throughout our collaboration. I have also developed as a mentor and every person I work with has their own interests and stories to share. I have anonymised everyone for their own privacy’s sake. If they want to share their stories, they should. All of the students have given editorial feedback on the case studies that concerned them, which I’m so grateful for.

Like I say in the Acknowledgements section, this book came together in a very odd way. But, in it, I found the basis for my practice. I’m a very annoying, opinionated activist, with my heart on my sleeve and a willingness to be a productive irritant. What makes me happiest is seeing the students thrive. Even if I never see them again, I am grateful that I was allowed to be part of their journey, even for a little while. As mentors, that’s the greatest gift we can get.

Below is a video of my talk about this book for Autscape in February 2025.

So, if you were worried where I was, I was working on this, as well as Feeling Fast and Slow. I’ll be all-in on FFaS for the month of June (hand-in date 1st July 2025. Pray for me!), but there’ll be more blogs, videos and appearances soon! Please don’t forget to order Breaking the Boundaries from Lived Places Publishing. If you can’t afford it (it’s not cheap!), then definitely ask your local library to stock it. If you study/work at a university, definitely request it from your librarian. If you like the book, tell someone about it. Pass me on like a bad case of gonnorrhea in an old-people’s home. I am very happy to speak and provide staff training based on my learning in this book.

Share on Bluesky: Lived Places Publishing: “Universities and colleges are built on systems that by nature exclude Autistic students, since they’re built on neurotypical foundations: livedplacespublishing.com/book/isbn/97… And this book can be purchased with perpetual, unrestricted, unlimited use: livedplacespublishing.com/intersections/” — Bluesky

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Love to everyone and you especially if you need a hug. Here it is. Okay I’m out! See you next time! Love you! Baah!!

Jorik