Dyspraxia: Neurodivergence’s poor relation?

The 2020s will surely be best remembered for the second term of Donald Trump, the unstoppable rise of AI, and the controversy surrounding social media’s impact on our mental health. Maybe amongst the second tier of memories will be the welcome advances in awareness of autism and other forms of neurodiversity.

Autism, ADHD and dyslexia. These are terms now used and (relatively) well understood by the general public. But what about dyspraxia?

While some may be able to make educated guesses about its meaning from its pair of Greek roots, I find that most people still look at me blankly when I refer to ‘dyspraxia’ - and this extends to many well-educated professionals and academics that I know.

My fear is that a hierarchy of neurodivergence is at risk of calcifying, where those with dyspraxia remain hidden, undiagnosed, and denied the adjustments they need to thrive. I fear that, like me when I was an adolescent and young adult, they’ll experience poor mental health and suffer - without understanding why. As I type today, both the singular noun ‘dyspraxic’ and its plural ‘dyspraxics’ are underlined in red. What better indicator of our enduring obscurity?

My primary purpose for publishing the website and writing these blog posts is to raise awareness. The more clinicians, educators, and parents know what to look for, the more chance that dyspraxic people will be spotted, diagnosed, and supported to achieve their potential. If you know any professionals that would benefit from learning about dyspraxia, please point them in the direction of this blog and its parent website.