Neurodivergent kids challenge us to open our minds to different ways of experiencing life. If you’ve ever said “that’s not my cup of tea” this story will make you think! Read on.
Neurodivergent experiences shape the way we live
One of our Parenting Orchid Teens Support Group participants recently said in a meeting: “We’re having tea in China, and they’re having tea in India.” It’s such a simple sentence, but it grabbed my attention as well as Jen’s. Today, I want to share what this saying means to me as someone who loves and supports neurodivergent kids and their families.
Let’s start with the basics. “Tea” is something that many cultures enjoy. People drink it with friends, with family, or even alone for a quiet moment. But tea isn’t the same everywhere. In China, tea might be served in a quiet teahouse. Maybe there’s green or oolong in tiny cups and no sugar. In India, tea—or chai—is bold, sweet, and spicy, often made with milk, ginger, and cardamom. It’s sometimes sold at busy street corners in little glasses. The Indian experience of tea is noisy and full of energy.
So, both people are drinking tea. But the experience? Totally different.
That’s what it’s like for neurodivergent people and neurotypical people living in the same world. We may be doing the “same” things—going to school, making friends, trying new things—but how we experience them can feel like we’re in different countries altogether.
What does “neurodivergent” mean?
“Neurodivergent” is a word used to describe people whose brains work differently. That could mean someone has ADHD, autism, dyslexia, anxiety, or other ways of thinking and feeling. “Neurotypical” is the word for people whose brains work in more expected or common ways.
It’s important to note here that even this terminology is pretty ableist because it’s anchored in a “typical” experience —and what even is that?
Neither one is better. They’re just different. Like chai and green tea.
But here’s the thing: in many places, especially schools and workplaces, things are set up for people who are having “tea in China.” The quiet, rule-following kind of tea ceremony. If you’re someone who’s used to “tea in India”—loud, messy, creative, and full of strong feelings—you might feel like you’re doing everything wrong. But you’re not. You’re just having a different kind of tea.
Two teas, two worlds
Let me tell you a little story. I know a boy named Arjun. He’s 10 years old and loves science, space, and anything with gears. He’s also autistic. One day in class, his teacher asked the students to write about their weekend. Arjun couldn’t do it. Not because he didn’t have anything to say, but because his mind was still busy thinking about how stars are born.
Another kid, Maya, quickly wrote about going to the park with her family. Her words made sense to the teacher, and she got a gold star. Arjun, on the other hand, got a note saying “Did not follow directions.”
Now, both kids were having tea. But Arjun was in India, and Maya was in China. The teacher only knew how to serve one kind of tea. So Arjun was left feeling like his tea didn’t count.
What if we valued all the teas?
What would happen if we stopped expecting everyone to sit in the same tea room?
What if we looked at Arjun’s fascination with stars and said “Tell me more” instead of “Stick to the assignment”?
What if we celebrated how some kids think out loud, while others think quietly in their heads?
What if we understood that some people need noise and movement to focus, while others need calm and quiet?
That would be a world where all kinds of tea—and all kinds of people—are welcome.
Neurodivergent ways of being help us all
When we make space for different ways of thinking, we all benefit. A child who is allowed to move around during learning might discover a new way to solve a math problem. A teen who struggles with small talk might create beautiful art that helps others feel seen.
Just like India and China both have rich traditions, wisdom, and beauty, so do neurodivergent minds—meaning, the full range of brains. The goal isn’t to choose one over the other. It’s to learn how to travel between tea houses and maybe even share a cup now and then.
A cup of understanding
So next time you’re with someone who seems to be “doing things differently,” what if you took a breath and thought: “maybe they’re just having tea in another country. Their tea might taste different, their words might come out in a different order, or they might need a break when others don’t. And what if that’s okay?”
Can we help make the world big enough for many kinds of tea—and many ways to be human?
PS For any of you raising Orchid teens and you’re trying to figure out what kind of tea they like (or how to best support them…), we have our next session of our Raising Orchid Teens Support Group starting Thursday, May 1 at 8:30pm. Please share with anyone you think might benefit!
Photo Iga Palacz on Unsplash