On April 1, 2002, less than three weeks before I turned three years old, I was diagnosed with high-functioning autism spectrum disorder. I did not know about this diagnosis until February 11, 2012, a day I will never forget because it was when my life changed forever. When I finally found out about my diagnosis from my father, the next four months of my life represented a tough time for me emotionally. I’m not going to say that I spiraled into depression, as that is a strong word and a serious mental state to be in, but I certainly struggled to handle this news. It was during this time that I wished I had never been born with this diagnosis. Even having grown up in a welcoming, accepting, and liberal suburban community of Los Angeles, California, after reflecting on society’s derision of autistic people as well as my previous encounters with peers, it felt as if the diagnosis was a curse. It was also around this time that I went with my father and brother to watch a documentary called Bully (yes, I know which company distributed it; this is not an endorsement of said company). The documentary followed and documented the experiences of a handful of bullied children living in rural, religious, and Republican communities in Southern states. From what I recall, at least two of the subjects were autistic. One of these boys committed suicide, and the other was not only severely mocked and threatened by other students, but his school put forth next to no effort in stopping his bullies from bullying him. Although I didn’t feel complete hopelessness after watching the documentary, the thought of having to deal with this diagnosis for the remainder of my life scared me greatly.

Even with the news I received and the ensuing mental struggles I experienced, my parents helped me persevere through these challenges. They told me that even though I could not control my diagnosis, I had the ability to control other parts of my life. They encouraged me to focus on performing well academically and becoming a more skilled, well-rounded person. I recognize that it often takes much more than just mental fortitude and parental support to overcome adversity and thrive with mental conditions like these. However, I can’t deny that this change in mindset helped me feel better, continue with my life, and continue developing as a human being. In May 2013, more than a year after learning about my diagnosis, my district’s special education program informed me that I could exit the program. It was one of the prouder moments of my life, as it reminded me of how much progress I had made in my educational development since my early childhood. From there, I not only felt a sense of newfound confidence, but I also began to gradually accept my diagnosis as an inherent part of my identity. For example, during my first year of high school (and just a few months after exiting the special education program), I watched the Bully documentary again with the rest of my classmates. This time, I viewed the documentary in a much different light and realized that, even though I experienced some notable instances of bullying, there were other individuals who were far more severely autistic than me that experienced much more harmful instances of bullying. I became thankful for the friends and support that made my life decent while acknowledging that I needed to do something to help others with more severe ASD overcome their unimaginable hardship. Since rewatching the documentary, I have viewed autistic people as my brothers, and I have also developed a desire to help those who need help. This desire is partially what inspired me to enter my current capacity-building role in the nonprofit sector. It’s also why I am writing this story and planning to share it with others.

As I progressed through high school and college, I felt less and less need to ask for learning accommodations from teachers and school officials. Yet even as I have gradually gotten rid of the training wheels that helped me develop as a human being, I have received several reminders that I will always be me and that diagnosis will always be a defining part of who I am. According to Wikipedia, autism, formally known as autism spectrum disorder (ASD), is a neurodevelopmental disorder marked by deficits in reciprocal social communication. Although I can reasonably conclude that there are many autistic people who struggle to socialize more than I do, I have had more than my fair share of struggles socializing throughout my life and even to this day. I have never been the most gregarious or sociable person (unless you get me to talk about something controversial). I have had a lot of trouble putting my thoughts and ideas into words. I’ve often had trouble starting and maintaining conversations (and knowing what to say next). I don’t have a great sense of when to change a subject in a conversation (or when to go back to a previous one). I struggle with deciphering body language and tone. I’ve been told multiple times that I don’t speak with the “proper” tone or display the “best” body language. On top of all that, I get considerably nervous when I talk to new people. For all of those reasons, I rarely get along with others.

I have tried my best and am still trying my best to improve my social skills, especially the aforementioned ones. Unfortunately, developing social skills has never been easy for me at any point in my life, and for that reason, I have felt excluded by a society that highly values sociability. If you name any common social situation, I have almost certainly struggled to interact well with others in it. Building friendships. Developing positive relationships with teammates and colleagues. Job interviews. Career networking. Random conversations with others. And of course, asking women out on a date. Speaking of that last one, I should mention that I was one of the very few students in my class who did not attend prom during my senior year of high school. I wasn’t exactly thrilled about the idea of going to prom because I have found that, aside from the music being mostly terrible, most parties and celebrations thrown and inspired by my generation are unexciting at best. Even with that in mind, I did want to attend prom to an extent, mostly because of the desire to celebrate my upcoming graduation. I asked out a handful of girls to be my prom date during my senior year, and none of them said yes. I understand that unsuccessfully attempting to enter a relationship is not a problem that is limited to people like me; many men who aren’t autistic have trouble asking women out. But I don’t think my lack of success with women is a result of me trying too hard or feeling too much pressure to impress. Why? I’ve even had trouble naturally interacting with other men, who logically would be able to relate to me more easily. Simply put, interacting with others, which falls well within the comfort zone of many, falls well outside of mine. Maintaining conversations, which is a skill that many find to be routine, is what I perceive to be an uncanny skill that people are just born with or without. As hard as I have tried to get better at conversing, it’s just not something that comes naturally to me. Unfortunately, I have felt excluded from social circles because of that general inablility to interact with others.

Where do I begin? Well, you may have heard me mention that conversing with others is often stress-inducing for many autistic people. But before I go deeper into that matter, why don’t I talk about why job interviews are notorious for being stressful for many people who aren’t autistic? You’ll figure out why I’m viewing job interviews from this perspective in just a bit. For starters, us job applicants are competing against several hopeful candidates for only a handful of positions, if that. We’re competing for these roles after weeks or months of hard work involving the perfection of our resumes and job application answers just to get to this point in the first place. We’re competing for these roles by trying to impress robots who are not only notorious for being difficult to impress, but these robots care more about potential risk towards the company or organization than us, our background, or our well-being. If we don’t get this opportunity, and many of us won’t, we will not only continue to struggle to make ends meet, but also regress back to the agonizing Sisyphean hell that is known as job hunting. And here we are put on the spot with the interviewer expecting perfection from us, all while we’re under a lot of pressure because we don’t know where or when we’ll get another opportunity to interview for an internship or job that will help us make enough money to satisfy our financial obligations? Of course many of us are going to be nervous with all of these factors in play! I can hear the people in the back screaming the following to me (or us): “It’s just a conversation! Just have a conversation! The worst that can happen is the interviewer says no!” First of all, I just highlighted why the rejection itself is not the worst thing that could happen to the interviewee (see: an inability to satisfy financial obligations, etc.). Second of all, it’s hard enough to “just have a conversation” when, in limited time, we are trying to impress someone with all the leverage in the world (and zero care for our well-being) enough to provide the keys to a potentially life-changing opportunity.

And that is just from the perspective of someone who isn’t autistic. Now add on the fact that many of us autistic people struggle not only with conversing with new people, but knowing what to say next, displaying “good” body language, and speaking with the “proper” tone. Regardless of whether an applicant is autistic, when taking into account all of the factors above, imagine being so fastidious to the point at which you, an interviewer, reject a job candidate for the supposed sin of him or her being nervous during a job interview. To any interviewer who is reading this, forgive us for being nervous. We’re human. It’s OK to be human!

Was I nervous? Yes, this was my first job interview, so why wouldn’t it induce some stress? But even for someone who gets nervous during these kinds of situations, was I as nervous as the interviewers had suggested? No! But that’s beside the point.

I told my business professor about this experience and ranted to her about how I felt that I should have been awarded a position in the accelerator’s internship program. Fortunately, she knew the two directors of the accelerator that interviewed me, and she convinced them to accept me into the program. I spent two years in the program, and it was just what I expected it to be. My work was to conduct research on behalf of aspiring entrepreneurs who hoped to start their own businesses and bring their ideas to fruition. I did interact with the hopeful entrepreneurs and other interns during my tenure at the accelerator, but for the most part, the work was individual and required minimal interaction with others. Thus, the main lesson I learned from participating in this internship (and initially being rejected from participating in it) is that the problem with the professional world and our society in general goes well beyond a refusal to accept people who are autistic or are perceived to be autistic.

When I begrudgingly asked the accelerator directors for feedback on my initial interview performance, they claimed that, deep breath, I spoke too loudly and unnaturally during the interview. Perhaps my body language and tone, which many autistic people have trouble mastering, caused them to perceive me as quite nervous. Thus, my autism may have played a role in the initial result of the interview. Yes, I could have prevented the rejection by being open with the directors about my autism, but I haven’t even revealed my diagnosis to my closest friends, so why would I reveal this diagnosis, perceived by many as a social and professional hindrance, to people I met two seconds ago? But I digress. I should mention that, even in the initial aftermath of the rejection, I didn’t think that the accelerator directors had anything against autistic people working for them or autistic people in general (and I still don’t think this). I do, however, think that the directors’ decision to initially exclude me from their program was an example of unconscious biases causing discrimination. Many groups of people, including autistic individuals, are hurt by this. It makes me angry knowing that, as a society, our unconscious biases are leading us to treat certain people differently. Although I do believe that we, as a society, have made efforts to overcome these unconscious biases in recent years, especially in the wake of the Black Lives Matter protests in 2020 and 2021, we still have a long way to go. But even though a failure to overcome unconscious biases, especially in hiring, is not excusable, it somehow wasn’t even the most egregious factor that I believe led to my initial exclusion from participating in the internship.

What I experienced when I attempted to join my first internship in the spring of 2019 was a microcosm of how society treats and views people who lack social skills in general. Society places so much value on sociability that it hurts those who don’t conform to that standard through no fault of their own. Autistic individuals are probably disproportionately affected by this unreasonable societal expectation, but that’s not the point I’m trying to make. I could go on forever about the countless ways in which society has rejected me (and others) for my (and our) lack of conformity with societal stereotypes and expectations, but that’s a long conversation for another day. I promise that I will talk about that in a future blog post, but I’ll spare you the time in this one.

My accelerator interview experience (and the initial aftermath of said interview) was just one of many examples of society harshly telling me that I didn’t conform to stereotypes and thus didn’t belong in society. When it comes to our professional landscape, our managers and superiors tend to favor sociability rather than competence. If they did favor competence, the job interview would either be defunct or nowhere near as popular as it is now. To put it another way, and as many have so eloquently put it, job interviews, which are used to find competent people for open job positions, confoundingly favor people who are good at interviews rather than people who are good at jobs. After the accelerator directors agreed to let me join their internship program, I performed well because of my skillset and background. After my tenure at the accelerator ended, I realized that I wasn’t initially rejected because my skillset and resume weren’t good enough. I was initially rejected because I didn’t meet a standard that has become a widespread expectation within our society. It would be one thing if social skills were a desirable complement to have in this role. But this wasn’t even that! There were very few instances when I had to interact with others in this role! And that’s what I find to be most egregious about the directors’ reasoning for initially excluding me from the program. They didn’t interview me to confirm if I was a great fit for the job, but rather to assess whether I adhered to a societal standard. And because of that, I nearly missed an opportunity to open doors leading to other experience-building opportunities. I can hardly imagine that I would have been the first person to unfairly miss out on this.

I’ve elaborated enough about the deficits in reciprocal social communication that define autism (and how society treats individuals with these deficits). However, it would be remiss of me not to address the other major defining aspect of autism. According to the aforementioned Wikipedia article on autism, autism is also characterized by the presence of restricted and repetitive patterns of behavior. I can affirm that restricted and repetitive behaviors remain a defining feature of who I am. Here are a few examples:

• I become upset if I don't have my fruit smoothie in the morning.

• I become upset if I go a day without drinking orange juice.

• At 5:30 PM on weekdays, I need to be out on my daily walk, unless I am required to be elsewhere.

• I have a tendency to arrange items on my work desk, kitchen cabinets, drawers, and closets in the same or similar patterns.

• I don't like it when my apartment room is untidy or when furniture is rearranged.

  • For example, in May, my brother stayed in my apartment for roughly a week. He has a habit of spreading his belongings out, leaving items on tables instead of putting them back where they belong, and moving pieces of furniture from where they once were. I never voiced my displeasure with him because I know that to most people, being a little messy and rearranging furniture isn’t a huge deal, but I can’t say that I didn’t feel slightly irritated.

• I repeatedly listen to the same musical artist or genre for weeks or even months until I exhaust my options, then I move on to another artist or genre.

  • The same applies to the books I read.

These restricted and repetitive behaviors extend beyond my personal life. As I mentioned earlier, I received accommodations throughout many of my years in school to support my academic performance. Even as a working professional today, I have preferences for an ideal working environment so that I can facilitate productivity. Here are just a few examples of these preferences:

• I strongly dislike and have always disliked being pressured by deadlines.

• I prefer a slower pace in my work.

• I tend to perform better without extensive structure and supervision.

• I am not fond of working to a set tempo or being overly precise.

• I prefer to focus on output rather than deadlines.

Do you notice a theme here? If you don’t, I’ll provide the answer. In the workplace, I tend to perform better when I'm not under time constraints or experiencing constant stress from rules and deadlines. Of course, stress is inherent in nearly every profession, but I believe I'm particularly averse to strict rules and deadlines compared to most others. Instead, I'm more contemplative by nature, and I tend to produce my best work when I have time to think and reflect. Unfortunately, we live in a society that prioritizes optimizing efficiency, and while that may seem like a good thing, optimizing efficiency can have negative physical and mental effects on individuals. This desire to optimize efficiency at school and work is commonly referred to as hustle culture. Due to the prevalence of hustle culture in both academia and the workplace, I didn’t discover my ideal working style and environment until my final year of college.

In September 2021, the start of my fifth and final year of college, I finally began working on my honors thesis. I started much later than the rest of my honors peers because I didn’t know what to write my thesis on, but it was at that time when I thought of my ideal thesis topic. My political science professor and thesis mentor, Erika, encouraged me to complete the project by thinking in terms out output rather than in terms of deadlines. She told me to be quick but not hurry. She emphasized that her recommended thesis checkpoints were not strict deadlines, and that my focus should just be on doing something productive from week to week. Even after iterating my thesis question (and thus my research) six times, I was still able to complete my thesis with a month to spare before the absolute deadline to submit it to the honors college because I took Erika’s recommendations to heart. Because I felt that I was able to complete my best work when following this philosophy, I began seeking slower-paced roles after graduating college in June 2022, and I still feel that this work is best for me today. In October 2022, after months of hellish job hunting, I landed a VISTA (Volunteer In Service to America) role with Oregon Afterschool and Summer for Kids, or OregonASK. While working there, I was fortunate to have a director that understood my working style. She gave me projects to complete, but to a decent extent, she allowed me to proceed on the projects as I wished. I was not only able to complete my VAD while I was there, but I was also able to complete a primary research project about Oregon’s educational workers’ stress levels and what they believed could be done to alleviate said stress. Although I was proud to accomplish what I did with OregonASK, I was ready for another adventure, a change of scenery (both geographic and organizational), and a chance to advance my career by the time I completed my term of service with OregonASK.

I found that challenge when reading the description for the VISTA role at Youth MOVE Colorado, my current position. Youth MOVE Colorado is a youth-serving nonprofit that pairs VISTAs with service sites across the state to perform capacity-building work on behalf of Colorado youth. Upon my arrival in Colorado for this role and after completing two weeks of onboarding, I initially believed I could fulfill each of the main items on my VAD (VISTA Assignment Description) for my service site at any time, as long as I completed them before the end of my service term. However, it was during this period that I learned the hard way that not every work environment is conducive to optimal performance. You see, my service site is the Colorado Department of Education (CDE), which, as expected, operates within a heavily bureaucratic framework and adheres to strict deadlines. The department doesn’t allow for extended breaks during workdays to accommodate individuals like myself who need time to recharge. The work environment is characterized by a fast pace and high stress levels, with my two supervisors spending their whole workdays in front of their computers and much of that time in meetings. To their credit, many of the officials at CDE are cognizant of the stress associated with the work and organize webinars and self-care sessions to support staff productivity. However, as I mentioned earlier, the work environment was far from ideal for someone with my preferences.

In the early stages of my VISTA service at CDE, I occasionally struggled to meet minor deadlines set by my supervisors, despite my VAD indicating that I could complete my tasks at my own pace. At one point, one of my supervisors expressed dissatisfaction because I did not complete a couple of email drafts in time for a weekly check-in meeting. Notably, one of the emails was scheduled to be sent two and a half weeks after the check-in meeting, and the other was intended to be sent two weeks after that. After enduring weeks of frustration due to the inability to meet short but minor deadlines, I reached a breaking point. I did something I never imagined I would do: I disclosed my diagnosis to my supervisors. This marked the first time I had voluntarily shared my diagnosis with another person (or people).

I am concluding this post with a more positive story because I want to emphasize that, despite my general disdain for humanity due to the harm it has inflicted on marginalized groups like ours, I still have hope because there are individuals who genuinely want to assist us and improve our lives. While I may still have some disagreements with my supervisors, I am thankful that they were receptive to my concerns and utilized the information I provided to create a more comfortable work environment for me. Since disclosing my diagnosis to my supervisors (and Kippi, the director of Youth MOVE Colorado) in April 2024, I have experienced an epiphany of sorts. Specifically, I have realized that I can change lives by sharing my diagnosis, and I thus intend to be more transparent about my diagnosis going forward. Otherwise, I wouldn't have written this post or invested so much effort into it. Granted, my supervisors' acceptance of my diagnosis played a significant role in this realization, but it's not the primary reason for this change. I aim to be more open about my diagnosis because I witnessed firsthand how others' efforts to comprehend my experiences led to positive outcomes. Consequently, I believe that sharing my story with others will foster greater understanding of our plight and catalyze more positive changes within our society on behalf of autistic individuals (and hopefully other marginalized groups).

What you just read about was a handful of the many obstacles that my peers, superiors, and society have thrown at me (and other autistic individuals). Despite these challenges, I am persevering and continuing to grow into a better human being every day. It has been a long journey since I first learned about my diagnosis. Initially, I wished I had never been born with autism spectrum disorder, but my mindset has evolved significantly since then, and I now accept and even embrace the falsely but heavily stigmatized condition I was born with.

I would like you to consider the song “The Unforgiven” by Metallica. I have listened to and contemplated this song extensively throughout my journey. If you’re familiar with the song, you know that its protagonist faces rejection and alienation as a child but later conforms to society's expectations, only to regret succumbing to them as an older man nearing death. I don’t see the character's experience as a direct parallel to mine, nor do I believe the song perfectly captures the experiences of every autistic individual. However, many autistic individuals, including myself, can relate to feelings of alienation, rejection, and misunderstanding by society. I also empathize with the character in this song because I have felt immense pressure to conform to societal norms and have faced exclusion for not conforming. Whenever the idea of conforming to "fit in" crosses my mind, I remember this character and remind myself that I do not want to end up like him. This is why I am proud of not being a stereotypical man. This is why I am proud to defy society’s expectations. This is why I am proud to be different. This is why I now embrace my identity.  

Yet even for my gradual acceptance and embracement of my condition, I must admit that sharing this diagnosis with others is still not something that excites me. I share this story because I want to support my autistic brothers and sisters, especially those whose autism is more severe than mine, and let them know they are not alone. Being on the high-functioning side of the spectrum, I have had it much easier than many other autistic individuals, yet I have still experienced my share of challenges. I cannot fathom how much more difficult it must be for those on the severe end of the spectrum. For this reason, I feel compelled to advocate for them and amplify their voices. It's crucial to emphasize that even if many of us struggle to articulate our thoughts, we still have voices. We have our own stories to share. We deserve to be heard.

Furthermore, I share this story to inspire my autistic brothers and sisters to overcome obstacles and pursue their dreams. Amidst the peak of the COVID-19 pandemic and in the midst of my virtual college experience, I felt I had discovered my true calling in life: a career dedicated to helping the less fortunate. Transitioning from my initial career aspirations to this newfound, intrinsic calling has been challenging. Since embarking on this journey, I have picked up a second major, stayed at college for another year, endured the relentless Sisyphean agony of job hunting, relocated to Oregon for my first VISTA role, moved to Colorado for my subsequent VISTA role, and sought to forge new friendships along the way. Despite the inherent challenges of this career transition, I have found deep fulfillment in my current field of work. The realization that I have started from a position of relative disadvantage (thanks in part to my condition) compared to many members of society, yet have discovered a career path that I am passionate about and find fulfillment in, is what motivates me to fight against injustice not only for the autistic community but for disadvantaged populations as a whole. It’s what drives me to challenge the norms that society coerces us to follow and uses to exclude people who deviate from said norms. It's what inspires me to do whatever I can to ensure that fellow autistic and disadvantaged individuals have the opportunity to experience the same opportunities that I have been fortunate enough to encounter.

I am not your typical person. In fact, I am vastly different from the average individual. I embrace viewing the world from a perspective that others may not comprehend. However, being different doesn't warrant exclusion from society. Being different doesn't imply that I don't belong in any social circles. Being different doesn't hinder my ability to relate to others. Being different doesn't justify labeling me as abnormal. I am not "abnormal"; I am simply misunderstood, and I have been for my entire life.

Despite taking pride in my differences, I want to emphasize that I am by no means a perfect individual. For instance, I have often struggled with communication and asking for assistance. There have been occasions when my emotions have gotten the best of me. And despite making gradual progress in my interactions with others, I still feel I have room for improvement in that aspect. While I attribute many of my imperfections to my diagnosis, deep down I know that I can always be better, and I am committed to improving where necessary. Nevertheless, even as I embrace change and strive to grow as a person each day, my position on the spectrum will always be an inherent part of my identity.

To all my autistic brothers and sisters, I am on your side and I will work to help you overcome your struggles. We are human beings. We all deserve to live happy, productive, and prosperous lives. We have our own stories to tell. We will persevere together. We will make it.

You may remember that I mentioned in my May blog post that I can relate to the character in Metallica's "The Unforgiven." Perhaps you don’t like rock music, so you’ve never heard the song, but it’s a song I highly recommend you listen to. At the very least, you should read about the meaning of the song’s lyrics. Anyways, while the aforementioned character (who is based on lead singer James Hetfield) is fictional, he embodies a common experience shared by many of us. Even if you mostly live according to society’s norms and expectations, perhaps you can reflect on at least one or two instances in which you’ve deviated from those norms and expectations and were viewed and treated differently because of that. Perhaps you wondered why your habit or behavior was discouraged by others despite there being nothing wrong with said habit or behavior. That, my friends, is a taste of what it’s like when society expects you to conform and play by all its rules. The point is, unless you were born into a life of significant privilege, insulated from hardship, you can empathize with the character to some degree.

I have previously delved into my challenges with social skills compared to the broader population. While social skills can be taught to some degree, research indicates a strong genetic component responsible for how well people socialize (you can find more on this in the links provided at the end of this post). Therefore, there is nothing wrong with not excelling at socializing. Unfortunately, society disagrees, valuing sociability highly and often deeming those less sociable as undesirable connections. As I discussed last month, this expectation is evident in the widespread use of job interviews as a hiring criterion. If only this pressure were confined to professional settings, I would not be so upset. Unfortunately, this expectation has also impacted my personal life.

One of my father’s closest friends hosts Christmas parties every year. My brother and I frequently went to these parties when we were younger. During these parties, the two of us would socialize with the host’s two daughters in a quiet room while the adults enjoyed their own conversation at the dinner table. However, to say that my brother and I socialized equally with the daughters would be inaccurate. In truth, my brother would dominate the conversation with the two daughters, thus leaving me feeling ignored among the group of four. Don't get me wrong, I love my brother dearly. Despite our frequent fights, he remains incredibly supportive of me. Yet, during those Christmas gatherings, it often felt like I had little opportunity to contribute to the conversation as he monopolized it with the girls. However, I must acknowledge that my brother isn’t solely to blame for this imbalance. Feeling ignored in social situations is not a new experience for me. In various gatherings, I've often found myself doing the least talking, not because I shy away from conversations, but because others tend to dominate them. Moreover, I seldom feel genuine interest from my peers, regardless of their gender, in getting to know me better. Admittedly, initiating and maintaining conversations doesn't come naturally to me, which can make social interactions awkward. But is it fair for me to sit through these so-called “social gatherings” without anyone even bothering to inquire about my life? While I may not excel at articulating my thoughts, I would appreciate someone taking the initiative to express genuine interest in me and ask questions about my life.

Let me share you one impactful interaction from my life that most accurately describes how I feel during my attempts to converse and mingle with others. During my final year of college in March 2022, over spring break, I participated in an alternative spring break trip to San Francisco with a handful of volunteers. Our mission was to provide direct service to individuals experiencing homelessness in the city’s Tenderloin neighborhood, known for its high crime rates. Alongside preparing meals and distributing harm reduction kits, we engaged in conversations with them, seeking to understand their lives better. Many of these individuals shared stories of trauma from living on the streets, enduring police sweeps, and the challenges of surviving in such conditions. Amidst these impactful encounters, one interaction stood out to me the most. We asked a gentleman experiencing homelessness about the most frustrating aspect of his life. He expressed how disheartening it was for people passing by to rarely acknowledge him or inquire about his life, leaving him feeling irrelevant, worthless, and overlooked. While I recognize the disparity between his homelessness experience and my struggles to socialize, his sentiment resonates deeply with me. In social gatherings, I often find myself in a similar position where others dominate conversations without showing genuine interest in getting to know me or asking about my life, thus making me feel excluded.

Consider the following dialogue from the 2001 film Shrek, between the titular ogre and his companion, Donkey. At this point in the story, Shrek, who is often feared and judged by everyone except Donkey, is escorting a princess to Lord Farquaad in exchange for reclaiming his swamp. As the three of them rest for the night, Donkey inquires about Shrek's future plans after delivering the princess to Farquaad, to which Shrek adamantly expresses his desire to live alone in his swamp for the remainder of his life. This leads to a revealing moment:

Donkey: Hey, what's your problem, Shrek? What do you got against the whole world anyway, huh?

Shrek: Look, I'm not the one with the problem, okay? It's the world that seems to have a problem with me. People take one look at me and go, "Ah! Help! Run! A big, stupid, ugly ogre!" They judge me before they even know me.Top of FormBottom of Form

Like Shrek, the man experiencing homelessness I met during my alternative spring break and I both empathize with feeling disregarded due to others making inaccurate assumptions about us and then acting on those misconceptions. People who experience homelessness often face unfair stereotypes. Many believe they are in that situation solely because they are morally flawed or have consistently made poor choices. While it's true that some individuals experiencing homelessness have made mistakes, extensive research reveals that societal failures play a much larger role (go to the links below to learn more). Poverty wages, exorbitant rent prices, overwhelming medical bills, domestic abuse, and inadequate access to mental health and addiction services are major contributors to their circumstances. Referring to them as "people experiencing homelessness" rather than "homeless people" underscores that homelessness primarily results from circumstance and unfortunate situations rather than personal failings. As a matter of fact, during my alternative break, I learned to use this terminology, thus highlighting that I too was previously guilty of having these misconceptions regarding people experiencing homelessness.

However, assumptions about poor decision-making aren't the only ones leading to the neglect of people experiencing homelessness. There's also the mistaken belief that they lack intelligence, which my experiences contradicted. Throughout the trip, I encountered numerous individuals who displayed profound knowledge about the issues affecting their lives. Another common misconception is that they are indifferent or callous, yet many demonstrate remarkable compassion. For instance, I discovered people experiencing homelessness who cared deeply for their pets, going to great lengths to ensure their well-being. While there are more myths to dispel about homelessness, these examples illustrate the importance of challenging stereotypes and recognizing the humanity and complexity of each individual's story.

Here is where I must return to the toxicity of societal expectations. Despite my belief that most people are well-intentioned and strive to do what is right, I am compelled to ask: why do people have a tendency to make assumptions about others? I attribute this to societal norms. Society often idealizes a particular type of person who conforms to a set of norms, stereotypes, and expectations. This idealization leads us to judge and make assumptions about anyone who deviates from this standard as soon as we encounter them. Why is this? I believe it’s because of the glorification of this idealized person that we incorrectly conclude there is something wrong with those who do not fit this mold. However, upon critical reflection, there is nothing inherently wrong with individuals who do not conform to these societal expectations. Yet instead of feeling accepted for who I am, I often receive the cold shoulder and thus feel pressure to conform because of my differences.

I'd argue that the pervasive pressure to be social is likely the primary reason why I've faced challenges in connecting with others, regardless of where I've lived. However, it's not the sole factor contributing to this difficulty. For instance, another prevalent expectation among society, especially among people my age, is the idea that offensive humor is necessary for building friendships. While I agree that we all could use humor in our lives, many individuals have taken this notion to an extreme.

It probably won't surprise you to hear that I chose not to join a fraternity during college, and I have several reasons for this decision. For one, joining would have exposed me to more social events than I prefer; while I enjoy occasional socializing, weekly commitments would be overwhelming. Additionally, fraternities tend to attract extroverted individuals, and although I don't mind interacting with more socially adept people, I prefer friends who listen and allow me to contribute to conversations. However, one of the most significant reasons I avoided joining a fraternity is their reprehensible behavior, which ranges from obscenely distasteful jokes to heinous and sometimes illegal actions. This isn't just about my refusal to endorse sexual assault, white supremacy, elitism, and toxic masculinity (which I would have done by joining). It's also about avoiding situations where I could become the target of harmful behavior, both physically and mentally. I don’t need to go too much into detail about the checkered pasts of these organizations. which include disturbing accounts of sexual assault and dangerous hazing rituals resulting in injury or death. I refuse to associate with anyone who expects me to harm myself to earn their friendship. Moreover, what particularly disturbs me about fraternities is their tendency to bond through insensitive humor that trivializes the struggles of others, including those with autism, like myself. While such behavior can occur in other social settings, fraternities are notorious for perpetuating this toxic culture. As you could probably discern by now, I have no interest in befriending individuals who engage in or condone such behavior.

Take, for example, the popular party game Cards Against Humanity, which its creators themselves have labeled as “a party game for horrible people.” I know there will be those who might mock me for this admission, but I've never played the game and I hope to never do so. For one, playing it would require immersing myself in a social scene centered around frequent interactions with new people and partying, neither of which have ever been within my comfort zone. But the main reason why I don’t want to play this is because the humor crosses the line. Now you may wonder why I take exception to partygoers playing Cards Against Humanity. After all, it's just a game, right? The jokes are merely lighthearted, right? No one playing the game actually intends harm, right? And there’s the problem. While I understand that many players of the game do not endorse its jokes, I cannot overlook the nonchalant dismissal of the experiences not only of the autistic community but also of women, people of color, rape survivors, and those who have lost loved ones, among others. Intentions aside, joking about our struggles for the sake of social bonding is precisely the kind of regressive behavior that further isolates and marginalizes people like me. Do you honestly expect me to embrace individuals whose idea of forming connections involves ridiculing the less fortunate, even if they claim no malicious intent? Absolutely not! The fact that mockery of others' hardships is seen as a primary expectation for forming friendships speaks volumes about society as a whole. Yes, people have the right to free speech, but I reserve the right to exercise mine by critiquing others' use of theirs. There are far better ways to cultivate genuine connections. Just play Apples to Apples if you want to build friendships and experience the fun aspects of Cards Against Humanity.

I want to clarify that I don't find all individuals who lack political correctness or use dark humor objectionable. Many comedians and content creators excel by ignoring PC principles (no pun intended, South Park) or employing dark humor to satirize human behavior or shed light on taboo topics. They should be commended for that. What concerns me is when people bond by enjoying dark humor at the expense of others. If society expects me to forge friendships in this manner, I take pride in resisting that expectation. I'm proud of choosing not to join fraternities that contribute significantly to fostering this toxic culture. Yet it might surprise you to feel like this societal expectation isn’t even the expectation that is the most personal to me.

Because I was diagnosed with autism at a young age, my parents did everything possible to support my happiness and development. Soon after learning of my diagnosis, they enrolled me in Applied Behavioral Analysis (ABA) therapy to aid in speech development. At the time, ABA was considered the gold standard for helping autistic children, and it is still widely recognized as one of the go-to therapies for this purpose. However, support for ABA is no longer universal. In recent years, generations of autists who underwent ABA have criticized its methods, citing various concerns detailed in the links below. One common critique about ABA is its dehumanizing nature. With the therapy’s heavy emphasis on positive and negative reinforcement, many autistic children who grew up receiving the therapy were electrically shocked for perceived “poor” behaviors and thus treated as inhumanely as Pavlov’s dogs. While this is a valid objection, perhaps the most prevalent criticism of ABA is its encouragement of suppressing autism rather than embracing and thriving with it. Thus, it has been used as a mechanism to force us to assimilate to society and its standards. This is repulsive for a variety of reasons. For one, it is not inherently wrong to not be adept at socializing with others. What’s even more repulsive is that, by forcing us to suppress our stimming behaviors and autism in general, ABA tells us that we need to be “fixed.” This expectation that we need to fit in with our neurotypical peers to be regarded as “human,” “well-functioning,” or “desirable” isn’t just one of the most blatant insults that could possibly be hurled at autists like myself. It has also been responsible for the abuse, damage, and traumatization of generations of people.

Regardless, these therapies are rooted in the belief that there is something inherently wrong with us. Yet I can do as much about my neurodivergence as I can about being born a member of the male sex. Fortunately, I only received a mild dosage of ABA in my early childhood (and perhaps the best aspects of it as well). As a matter of fact, my parents claim that I enjoyed receiving the therapy and that it helped me get better at talking. However, hearing the stories of abuse, pressure, and trauma inflicted by ABA on many autists reminds me that others like me were not as fortunate. This is why I am compelled to advocate on their behalf.

I can hear the rebuttals coming at me from all directions, including from so-called “autism advocacy groups.” For example, many might tell me that studies often tout ABA's effectiveness. Its effectiveness at what? At coercing autistic individuals to suppress their harmless yet heavily stigmatized behaviors? At molding them to conform to societal norms? If ABA's success is measured by how well it makes autistic children "indistinguishable from their peers," then we've profoundly failed as a society. To me, that outcome is more troubling than ABA being utterly ineffective. When you hear claims of ABA's effectiveness, beware of the misleading rhetoric. It succeeds because it achieves the goals set by its creators—to mask autistic traits and make individuals appear neurotypical—rather than respecting the desires and needs of autistic people themselves.

Yes, I acknowledge the importance of developing skills like speech and social interaction. I also recognize the significance of helping autists manage stimming behaviors that may cause physical harm. However, despite any positive outcomes achieved by ABA, I believe the harm it has inflicted on autists outweighs its benefits. The pursuit of "normalizing" us has led to disregarding the harmlessness of many of our stimming behaviors and overlooking the reality that our autism diagnoses cannot be changed. If not for the pressure to make us "indistinguishable from our peers," society could have supported us in developing crucial life skills without causing us trauma, thereby enabling us to lead happier lives.

I feel that I have delved enough into the societal expectations that have negatively affected me and my autistic brethren over the years. During my conversation with my brother earlier this month, I began to learn how much societal expectations have harmed and continue to harm others as well. Take, for instance, the expectation to marry. It's deeply ingrained in our cultural norms. How do I know this? For one, marriage is frequently regarded as a significant milestone in relationships, with little questioning of its necessity, purpose, or importance. Furthermore, those who choose not to marry or be in a romantic relationship are often unfairly judged and criticized, despite there being nothing inherently wrong with either choice. What’s even worse is that people who are unmarried also experience discrimination as well. For example, the tax advantages granted to married couples versus unmarried individuals illustrate a societal bias against people who are single.

According to the Pew Research Center, as recently as 2019, 53% of Americans indicated that they were married, versus 38% of Americans who are unpartnered and 9% who are cohabiting. Fortunately, cohabitation is gaining popularity among American adults and globally, contrasting with a decline in marriage rates. Why do I say "fortunately"? It's not because I harbor any personal animosity towards those who choose to marry (because I do not). Rather, I am heartened by some encouraging trends despite my frequent frustrations with human behavior. Specifically, I observe a growing number of individuals who resist succumbing to society's unrealistic and detrimental expectations. More people are liberating themselves from traditional norms to pursue lives that genuinely fulfill them. I commend these individuals for prioritizing their own well-being over conforming to ingrained notions presented as the "ideal."

Despite these encouraging signs, I recently encountered a stark reminder that societal pressures around marriage can still deeply affect individuals. As someone who has never been in a romantic relationship in my life, I've been fortunate not to experience the weight of this expectation personally, and I hope I never will. Unfortunately, my brother—whom I'll keep anonymous for privacy reasons—has not been as fortunate. After finishing college, he entered his third romantic relationship with a partner from a very religious family. Given that marriage holds significant importance in Christianity, they approached my brother relatively early in the relationship, asking if he was prepared to marry her. This request took him by surprise; at the time of the request, he was not much older than I am now. Although he expressed he wasn't ready for marriage, he didn't end the relationship immediately. However, the constant pressure from his partner and her family to marry, along with their persistent questioning, took a toll on him. Their relationship ended around New Year’s Day 2024. While I didn't inquire deeply into the reasons for their breakup, during our conversation with him in early June, he told me that the intense pressure to marry had profoundly affected him. He shared that he had struggled to suppress the negative emotions stemming from this pressure, even during family gatherings and vacations. It's disheartening that this societal expectation disrupted what could have been a promising relationship, as my brother mentioned that he still cherishes many aspects of their time together.

My brother's experience is just one of the many reasons why I despise tradition with the burning passion of a thousand suns. Tradition not only contributed to the downfall of his otherwise strong relationship but also perpetuates many outdated societal expectations today. These expectations stem from traditions passed down over decades and even centuries, often disconnected from contemporary realities. I recognize and even appreciate harmless and enjoyable traditions, but unfortunately, many traditions are harmful. Just because something has been practiced for a long time doesn't make it inherently good or beneficial. With every passing day, we are introduced to new ideas and learn more about our world. Perhaps we should use them to make our world better.

After learning that my outgoing and sociable brother also felt pressure from societal expectations, I've come to believe that almost no one is immune to this burden. In the past three weeks since our conversation, this belief has only solidified. For example, there is a prevailing expectation regarding leadership that has significantly contributed to the unhappiness of a large segment of our population. As of 2021, the median age at which American presidents have taken office for their first term is 55. Most presidents have assumed office at age 50 or older, with none being inaugurated before the age of 42. In the 118th U.S. Congress (the current session of U.S. Congress), the average age of U.S. Representatives is 57.9 years, and for U.S. Senators, it is 65.3 years. Furthermore, as of 2023, the average age at which CEOs are hired is 55 years old, a significant increase from 46 years old in 2005. These statistics highlight that, in both political and professional domains, there is a prevailing belief that leadership roles are typically reserved for older individuals with established credentials. As a result, the younger people are expected to take a back seat and be listeners. However, this leadership expectation has not only perpetuated a stigma against young leaders, but also hindered both personal fulfillment and national prosperity.

While many organizations predominantly feature older leaders, the notion that young people are incapable of leadership is largely inaccurate. According to a 2015 Harvard Business Review study involving approximately 65,000 people in managerial roles, 44% of the most effective leaders—defined by their teams meeting goals most frequently—were aged 30 years or younger. In contrast, over 20% of these leaders were aged 45 years or older. Furthermore, the study found that younger managers were perceived more positively by their subordinates and were considered to have better management skills compared to their counterparts above the age of 45. By the way, I forgot to mention that, in this study, there were roughly ten times as many managers aged 45 or older as there were managers aged 30 or younger. Therefore, despite a significantly larger percentage of managers in the study being aged 45 and above, a disproportionate percentage of the most effective managers belonged to the 30 and under age group. Quite impressive for a demographic that supposedly can’t lead, huh?

On the other hand, younger leaders, who are more likely to have experienced firsthand the challenges of stagnant wages and rising living costs since the 1980s, bring invaluable perspectives shaped by these pressing societal issues. In professional environments, it should not be surprising that these leaders are often regarded more positively by their subordinates. Their empathy for their workers stems from a deep-seated understanding of the real-life challenges faced by ordinary people. So what prevents younger leaders from exerting more influence in both professional and political arenas? Unfortunately, the oldest, wealthiest, and most privileged members of our society possess a weapon of immense power that most lack: money. This financial leverage has been instrumental in shaping public opinion. Due to flawed campaign finance laws, wealthy elites can fund extensive political campaigns that promote both older candidates and the idea that older individuals with extensive credentials are inherently the most qualified to hold government office. We have unfortunately drank the Kool-Aid. This widely accepted narrative that older, more credentialled leaders are the optimal choice has led us to elect leaders who may not necessarily serve the best interests of our country. Consequently, we find ourselves stuck with ineffective leadership, to the detriment of our nation.

The widespread belief that older, more credentialled people are the most fit to possess leadership positions brings me back to the controversial use of Applied Behavioral Analysis in helping autistic children develop. Recently, neurodivergent adults have begun leading research studies regarding the therapy, and evidence has emerged that Applied Behavior Analysis (ABA) recipients are more likely than other autists to experience mental health issues such as PTSD. It’s no coincidence this issue has come to the forefront as soon as autistic adults have begun assuming leadership roles. Why? Their personal experiences with ABA therapy have motivated them to conduct research into its consequences. Without their contributions, we might never have learned about or confirmed the negative impacts of ABA. This highlights the urgent need for greater autistic representation in decision-making processes related to autism, as well as broader representation of individuals with lived experience in leadership roles.

What could possibly go wrong if we introduced more people with lived experience in leadership roles? I struggle to think of any significant drawbacks immediately, but there are numerous negative consequences that have resulted from the absence of lived experience in leadership. It's worth noting that therapists and leaders in so-called “autism advocacy organizations” often endorse therapies like ABA, touting their effectiveness without having experienced them firsthand. This lack of personal experience means they may overlook or fail to acknowledge the harmful impacts that ABA can have. Furthermore, these therapists and leaders have had a history of emphasizing ABA's goal of making autistic individuals 'indistinguishable from their peers,' a perspective that disregards the harm and trauma many autistic people experience when pressured to conform to societal norms. Thus, autism advocacy organizations have often failed to help the very people they claim to advocate for because they have wrongly prioritized societal objectives over the genuine needs and preferences of autistic individuals.

For these reasons, it's crucial to take information from even the most respected autism advocacy organizations with caution, particularly regarding their stance on interventions like ABA. For instance, the American Psychological Association (APA), renowned both in the United States and globally, extensively praised and awarded Lovaas for his work. To date, the APA has not retracted its awards or praise for Lovaas, nor has it apologized for endorsing his methods. This underscores how far therapists and autism advocacy groups are from earnestly advocating for our community.

To their credit, some ABA providers have revised their practices to eliminate harmful techniques. However, the damage has been done, and only a handful organizations that previously supported ABA have acknowledged or attempted to rectify the harm caused by the therapy. Notably, it wasn't until 2022 that the Association for Behavior Analysis International (ABAI), the governing body of ABA practitioners, officially denounced the use of electric shocks—a once common component of ABA therapy. This is why it is of utmost importance to hold these individuals and organizations accountable when they prioritize societal norms over listening to autistic voices.

Although I circled back to discuss how a prevalent societal expectation of leadership has impacted individuals sharing my experiences, it has affected a significant contingent of our population. Thus, it's crucial to reaffirm my main point: that societal expectations can affect almost everyone. Even those who fit societal stereotypes can relate to feeling the pressure of these expectations at certain points in their lives. Although these expectations affect various facets of our lives, they share a common trait: they often have a detrimental impact on individuals. I urge everyone to be mindful of the harm caused by these pressures and to challenge them wherever possible.

Just to clarify, despite my inclination to rip people to shreds for their flaws, I don't hate individual human beings. I don’t hate people who conform closely to societal expectations. I don't hate people who marry without deeply contemplating the institution’s significance or necessity. I don't hate people who have children. I don’t hate social, extroverted people who spend every weekend enjoying alcoholic beverages at lively social gatherings. I don’t hate people who opt for car travel over walking, biking, and public transport. I don’t hate people who adhere to their family's religious practices (as long as they aren’t harming anyone). I don’t hate people who embrace materialistic consumerism. I don’t hate people that prefer light conversation over more challenging or controversial topics. I don’t hate people who work traditional white-collar jobs from Monday to Friday, 9 AM to 5 PM. Despite my differences with these stereotypical people, I think it’s perfectly fine for people to live however they want to as long as they don’t inflict significant harm on others.

While I don't harbor hatred toward these individuals or consider them inherently bad people, it's imperative to address their harmful behaviors. Although I believe that many of us have good intentions and strive to do what’s right, just being well-intentioned doesn’t excuse some of our actions as a society. With regards to those who extensively influence and perpetuate societal norms, I take issue with their tendency to impose their so-called “ideal” lifestyles on others, shame those who live differently, and make negative or inaccurate assumptions about those who differ. Furthermore, their perpetuation of destructive expectations and glorification of specific lifestyles contribute to negative stigmas, discrimination, and undue pressure on those who live harmless but non-conformist lifestyles. This is why it’s far past time for us to stop glorifying the sociable, materialistic white-collar worker who adheres to traditional family and religious norms, for this person is no better than the reserved, single, nonreligious person who places little emphasis on material possessions and works a remote, self-paced, modest-paying job. I don’t believe my own lifestyle should be glorified either; rather, we should celebrate individuals who make thoughtful, autonomous choices about their lives, provided that these choices do not harm others. It’s better late than never to make this substantial change.

If there's one lesson I hope you'll take away from this blog post, it's this: I don't expect you to change overnight. Instead, I encourage you to reflect on your habits, behaviors, and what defines your life. Consider why these are important to you. Ask yourself if your current lifestyle reflects your true desires or if it's influenced by societal expectations. I want you to prioritize being authentic to yourself. Rather than conforming to societal pressures, you should pursue your dreams in a responsible way that doesn’t harm others. Most importantly, don't hesitate to challenge conventional wisdom. Embrace rebellion, explore new ideas, and dare to think differently.

I realize that my ability to influence widespread behavior change is extremely limited. That doesn’t change how disheartened I am by the widespread conformity to societal expectations without thoughtful consideration. This conformity has contributed to my struggles to form connections throughout my life. While I attribute some of my social challenges to my own awkwardness and unconventional interests, I have no desire to befriend individuals who conform blindly to societal norms merely to fit in. Instead, I value relationships with those who carefully consider the kind of people they want to be and the impact of their actions on others. I seek friends who embrace my unique interests and personality. Most of all, I admire those who are not afraid to give a figurative middle finger to society in the face of extreme pressure to conform.

Throughout college, one of my professional development professors consistently emphasized the value of cultivating a personal brand. This advice has guided me not only in my professional aspirations but my personal endeavors as well. In both my professional and personal lives, I unapologetically consider myself to be at war with society. When I die, I hope to be remembered as someone who fought to improve others’ lives by embracing new ideas and defying societal pressures. I understand this may not align with everyone's personal brand, as everyone has the right to live as they choose. However, I would deeply appreciate your solidarity in resisting societal expectations alongside me.

·      https://www.lyricslayers.com/metallica/25934/

Shrek:

·      https://shrek.fandom.com/wiki/Shrek_(film)/Transcript

Sociability associated with genetics:

·      https://economictimes.indiatimes.com/magazines/panache/turns-out-being-shy-or-a-social-butterfly-depends-on-your-genes/articleshow/60260636.cms?from=mdr

·      https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2017/08/170822103053.htm

·      https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC6878128/

·      https://www.thetransmitter.org/spectrum/genes-influence-on-social-behaviors-shifts-with-age/

·      https://www.cambridge.org/core/journals/development-and-psychopathology/article/abs/genetic-architecture-of-reciprocal-social-behavior-in-toddlers-implications-for-heterogeneity-in-the-early-origins-of-autism-spectrum-disorder/D2E4B5DC30E57137ACEB33AA7A9654FC

Root causes of homelessness:

·      https://www.humanrightscareers.com/issues/root-causes-of-homelessness/

Heinous fraternity behavior:

·      https://greek.arizona.edu/sexual-assault-greek-life

·      https://www.nbcnews.com/news/us-news/if-student-deaths-won-t-stop-fraternity-hazing-what-will-n1260750

Everything wrong with ABA therapy and the evil Ole Ivar Lovaas:

·      https://www.yahoo.com/news/america-most-popular-autism-therapy-110100332.html

·      https://autisticadvocacy.org/2022/11/abai-finally-opposes-the-use-of-electric-shocks-at-the-jrc/

Singlism:

·      https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/living-single/201809/singlism-how-serious-is-it-really

Marriage statistics:

·      https://www.pewresearch.org/social-trends/2019/11/06/marriage-and-cohabitation-in-the-u-s/#:~:text=While%20the%20share%20who%20are,the%20National%20Survey%20of%20Family

·      https://www.pewresearch.org/social-trends/2019/11/06/public-views-of-marriage-and-cohabitation/

·      https://www.pewresearch.org/social-trends/2021/10/05/rising-share-of-u-s-adults-are-living-without-a-spouse-or-partner/

U.S. leadership demographics:

·      https://www.pewresearch.org/short-reads/2023/10/10/most-us-presidents-have-been-in-their-50s-at-inauguration/

·      https://www.pewresearch.org/short-reads/2023/01/30/house-gets-younger-senate-gets-older-a-look-at-the-age-and-generation-of-lawmakers-in-the-118th-congress/#:~:text=The%20median%20age%20of%20voting,and%2062.4%20in%20the%20115th.

·      https://hbr.org/2023/10/businesses-need-to-bring-younger-employees-into-their-leadership-ranks

Younger managers are in fact better:

·      https://rezatashtboland.medium.com/why-do-young-managers-perform-better-d2dbbdc01ae4#:~:text=The%20statistical%20results%20of%20this,total%20population%20of%20efficient%20managers.

·      https://www.inc.com/jessica-stillman/6-big-advantages-of-young-managers.html