Where the hell is my waffle?: Neurodivergent Difficulty with Cognitive Shift
Today is my beloved’s birthday. His plan for the day was to work until 6:30. Since we all conk out around 8, I thought we were looking at a pretty lame celebration.
Once I learned that only a small portion of his work has time sensitivity, I proposed he stop at noon to enjoy the rest of the day with me and he agreed.
No big deal?
Yes, actually, a very big deal.
My husband has an ADHD brain and - like his brother and sister ADHDers - his brain struggles to shift. In this biz, we call this “rigidity.”
Cognitive shift troubles all of us once in a while. The best way I’ve heard it described is this:
There’s one waffle left in the freezer which you have planned for your breakfast. Sleepily, you open the freezer to find someone else ate the waffle. No more waffles. Now you are stuck. “Who ate my waffle? Now I have nothing for breakfast! Damn! I planned to eat that waffle.”
Practically, of course, you are surrounded by breakfast options: toast, leftovers, cereal, grab a bagel on the way to work. But in that moment staring at the freezer, none of those options occur to you. Your brain is in waffle mode.
Neurotypical brains - whatever those are - will take a breath, step back, and think of other options. Neurodivergent brains tend to stay in waffle mode. They can get stuck and not know how to shift. In fact, shifting may never occur to their brains.
Academically, this neurodivergent symptom becomes a barrier when there’s a roadblock. Not knowing how to easily shift, the ADHD brain can panic. “Ahhh!!! I wrote a paper when I was supposed to submit a powerpoint!”
Once that anxiety response begins, problem-solving alternatives become even harder. Remember, no one can do calculus in the presence of a stalking saber tooth tiger. That part of your brain goes off line while the rest of you focuses on survival.
Non-neurodivergent folks can get easily baffled and/or frustrated by this typical response. “Calm down, just paste your main points into the slide. What’s the big deal?” This kind of response is never helpful for a stuck anxious brain. In fact, it makes it worse.
The antidote: Naming it.
The problem is not that the neurodivergent brain can’t think of alternatives. The problem is the brain is stuck on the original.
Shift the conversation to focus on what’s actually happening: “Are you feeling a bit stuck?”
This question re-directs the experience to self-reflection, reducing the anxiety caused by the unexpected event. “Oh! I’m just stuck. That’s fine. I can wait a bit and likely get unstuck.”
Naming the difficulty with cognitive shift externalizes and normalizes the event, empowering the neurodivergent learner to come up with their own alternatives when they are able. When you suggest alternatives for them, you are giving the message that their brains can’t do the job. How disrespectful
This difficulty with shift can interfere with learning if the student understands a concept in one way and you’d like them to build further understanding by manipulating the concept through alternative perspectives.
The same characteristic can interfere with emotional health, particularly when the learner has internalized a negative self-perception.
Fortunately, for anxious learners, this is where their intellect can help them out. The magic question:
“Is there a way to think about this differently?”
The kneejerk reaction I often get is “NO!” But because my learners are so bright, they intellectually know that’s a silly answer which they are too smart to accept. This paves the way to alternative thinking.
Learners experienced with managing their anxiety can often recognize their stuckness, understand they need a reset, and then ask themselves how to think differently as an intellectual exercise. Alternatively, they may recognize the stuck and accept their perspective as immutable. And that’s okay too.
Back to my beloved.
One Saturday ready to dust during housecleaning, he checked in vain for furniture polish:
“Where’s the polish?”
“We’ve run out. Use a damp rag to pick up dust.”
After he stared at the cupboard for a full sixty seconds, I heard: “Nope! Just can’t do that one!”
I can live with a fixed mindset about dusting. And I’m grateful for the self-awareness that enabled my husband’s shift from work mode to birthday mode! Off I go!