My Experiences With Accepting Feedback As An Autistic Person

The ability to receive and act upon constructive criticism is widely recognized as the bedrock of maturity and professional growth. True progression, however, is not solely dependent on the recipient's willingness to be humble; it also hinges on the giver's responsibility to deliver feedback with respect and intention. Too often, valuable input is poisoned by a derogatory tone, transforming potential guidance into needless cruelty. My life as an autistic person has been defined by this duality - a journey through both clarity and trauma - and it offers a crucial lesson for how we communicate across all divides.

Elementary School to Intermediate School

My early years reveal the devastating consequences when neurological difference is met with punitive misunderstanding rather than inquiry. In first grade, years before my autism was recognized, a simple processing delay in following the lunch line rules was interpreted as willful disobedience. The staff's immediate recourse was to threaten with a "pink slip," the most severe disciplinary action. This was not education; it was a punitive reaction to a communication barrier. When authority figures choose harshness over basic comprehension, they do not instill a lesson - they instill a deep-seated fear of authority and a belief that one's best efforts are inherently wrong.

This pattern of punitive reaction continued. In the absence of empathy, teachers often choose irritation, whether slamming a hand on a desk to interrupt my coping mechanisms or publicly ridiculing me for not knowing how to tie my shoes. Most egregiously, one third-grade teacher used my required time in the Special Education resource room to secretly fail my mainstream assignments, an act of petty sabotage that personified the systemic mistreatment of autistic students. These actions were not feedback; they were targeted, derogatory abuse that left me, a developing student, with crippling self-esteem. Granted, the information available to learn about autism at the time was minimal, except for medical journals that explained the autism spectrum in complicated ways, so the verbal abuse I took then could have stemmed from a lack of understanding and education about how autism manifested in my behaviors and how to communicate effective strategies for those behaviors. Even still, the verbal abuse directed toward me at the time was unnecessary and traumatizing.

Even as I entered intermediate school, the cruelty continued, often from the very adults charged with my care. Being told by a teacher that he "would never go out to dinner with me" because my "eating habits are disgusting" is the most glaring example of an authority figure weaponizing feedback. I was a teenager struggling with neurological challenges; his comment was not a critique of my conduct but a needless verbal assault on my personhood.

High School to College

The toxic feedback environment persisted into high school and the first stages of college, often cloaked as discipline. I had to learn the hard way: I learned that people will feign acceptance yet resort to unkindness the moment your conduct inconveniences them. But it was in my later college years, working with compassionate professors, that I learned the true power of effective critique. I was still expected to meet high academic standards, and I still received critiques on my work. However, the tone was vastly different. I was not isolated; I was coached.

One professor stood out as a sharp reminder of the past: when I used the word "notoriety" correctly in a literature review, she wrote back, "Inappropriate use of this word. Do you even know what it means?" Rather than constructively questioning my wording, she chose to belittle my intelligence. This is the difference between a mentor and a tormentor. I am perfectly capable of receiving firm, difficult feedback, but I deserve, and everyone deserves, to be treated with human respect.

In another college example of very harsh feedback, a professor noted to me in a reprimand that, because I showed up to just one class meeting without taking notes, I was "very rude" and "need to be doing better than that as a college student." He elaborated, "Do not show up unprepared to my class again," which I interpreted as a warning of more severe reprimanding if that happened again. I had disclosed to that professor before that reprimand, so he knew of my autism and opted to reprimand me in that harsh manner, which was unpleasant and uncomfortable.

Being autistic, my motor skills, as in using my hands in everyday tasks such as writing or taking notes, are challenging. The professor who said I was "rude" for not taking notes was likely unfamiliar with the motor skill challenges within autism, so he treated me like "everyone else," and in an intimidating fashion, called me out on that in a critical way. It was a very demeaning experience, and it's also an example of how not to provide feedback constructively to an autistic person. I am fine with taking feedback, but to be embarrassed that way over a misunderstanding was sobering. Nevertheless, I learned from it and tried taking notes after that challenging moment, though the "rude" aspect has stuck with my psyche for a long time.

Navigating Professional Feedback in Performance Reviews

Following my college graduation, I have applied for and worked in a myriad of jobs. As such, I have dealt with feedback as a young professional who is autistic in both reasonable and unnecessarily harsh situations. Two of those situations involved two different jobs, the first of which was when I was in orientation to train for a role I would eventually resign from due to extreme stress and lack of understanding about being autistic.

I briefly found work for an organization that works with school districts to assist with classroom behavioral management and general tasks for teachers. Before I was assigned to a school, I was going to various schools for training, and one day, in the midst of a team group discussion, I was overwhelmed and distracted over my transportation from orientation and back home. My concerns manifested in a lack of eye contact in the group discussion, so my supervisor at the time, whom I had disclosed my autism to before this, approached me after the group discussion to provide feedback about how my lack of eye contact "could be seen as disrespectful, because we're talking about sensitive topics."

This supervisor tried being empathetic, saying they understood my concerns, but the word choice of "disrespectful" directed at my behavior, intended to be realistic and constructive on their part, was harsh because that person was aware of my autism, which affects proper eye contact in moments of duress.

I believe that person had not worked with autistic people very much, if at all, so her feedback, while duly noted and meant to be constructive, was a bit derogatory with the "disrespectful" aspect, because that implies I was intentionally being disrespectful to my coworkers, which wasn't the case. That supervisor also suggested that I could've excused myself from the group discussion to self-regulate, which I could've; however, my rationale is unique, with being autistic, as in the unwritten social communication rules are not innate to me. That supervisor, treating me like "everyone else," didn't recognize that unwritten rules detail with her feedback and referred to my behavior as "disrespectful," harshly given that I don't perceive those situations or approach them the expected way.

The second work-related story, with feedback, was during my time in an office internship capacity. I was referred to that office internship through a local program that assists autistic people with opportunities to learn disclosure, self-advocacy, and how to manage unexpected behaviors in the workplace. During my tenure at the office internship, my supervisor had a meeting with me to review my performance in their office over the prior weeks, since my autism was known to my supervisor. I was given feedback, more kindly and reasonably this time, that my anxiety-related reactions to stress about my internship tasks could use some improvements. I was told I had improved somewhat, related to being autistic, in that internship; however, I recall the feedback being very constructive and helpful.

That first story, with the orientation, was an example of poorly phrased feedback. I was referred to as "disrespectful" for a social cue barrier being related to being autistic, which isn't reasonable because I pride myself on my respect and etiquette. Granted, I learned a lesson there about self-advocacy, for if that ever happened again, but the giver of the feedback there was a bit unnecessarily critical with calling it "disrespectful," given how being neurodivergent, I wouldn't have recognized how that came off to coworkers.

That second story, with the office internship, was way more constructive and reasonable because I wasn't having my respect for others being called out over an autistic communication challenge. I was able to make more progress following the office internship performance review, because the supervisor there was kind, while being professional, about areas I could improve upon.

When it comes to accepting feedback professionally, autistic people can be easily triggered if an employer is prone to giving feedback in a harsh way, which can result in the autistic worker experiencing a meltdown or "episode" in the workplace, which is problematic for both employer and worker. Therefore, a good approach for employers to support autistic workers is to be reassuring and validating of the autistic person's work and good professional qualities.

A verbal assurance could say, "Michael, we respect you and you have a strong work ethic, which is commendable; however, we notice some habits related to your disability that could use some adjustments to further include you in our office. If we could discuss some strategies related to your disability and those habits, it would increase morale and make your work here more fulfilling."

If any supervisor respected me enough to say something of that nature, I would feel more comfortable and understanding of their perspective to modify my autistic habits in job settings. The idea is not to suggest that autistic people cannot improve or adjust; it's the lack of kindness from neurotypicals who are not informed and convey that lack of respect to autistic workers that causes avoidable barriers in communication.

I am a hard worker, and I recognize that I need to and do work on myself; however, I'd feel more self-assured if others were more understanding and kind related to being autistic.

Final Thoughts

If we seek a world where every individual, including those on the autism spectrum, can reach their full potential, we must fundamentally re-evaluate our approach to feedback. The choice is clear:

1. Ditch the Derogatory Tone: Cruelty is never a learning tool. Belittling an individual does not fix a behavior; it only creates oppositionality and trauma.

2. Embrace Clarity and Specificity: Autistic individuals are often literal thinkers. Feedback must be direct, explicit, and actionable. Do not imply; state the desired outcome precisely.

3. Assume Competence, Demand Progress: Respect an individual's effort while holding them accountable for standards. When feedback is delivered with kindness, it bypasses the emotional defense system and is internalized as growth, not as a personal attack.

Autism brings unique challenges, but it also gifts us with deep creativity and unique perspectives. When we choose compassionate communication, we unlock that potential. I have made significant progress, and other autistic individuals can too. We must move forward into a future where respectful feedback is the standard, not the exception.

For neurotypicals who struggle with accepting feedback, I suggest the strategies of trying to empathize with the giver of the feedback, seeing where they are coming from, and figuring out a strategy to compromise. It can be hard to accept feedback, but it can be more palatable if you try to internalize it as areas to grow, and not as a personal blow.

I've dealt with both unkind and kind feedback, and it took a while to understand the difference, so I think anybody could benefit from learning from each other. Feedback is how people mature and grow, and the feedback I have heard has been both beneficial and hurtful, so while I accept feedback to learn, I yearn for respectful feedback and hope to see unkind feedback be improved upon, for my self-esteem and for future relationships.