Backpacking, Camping and Endurance Sports by Kerry P

How can outdoor, wilderness, and endurance activities help neurodiverse young adults find (or even regain) their confidence?

When going on primitive hiking and camping trips, one is closer to the natural world. Scientific studies have recently proven that being out in nature is healing, grounding, even enlightening, and not just for the neurodivergent either. All can benefit!

You’ll learn to live and work together as a team with others, hopefully several that share your interests. Also, you gain great physical strength and endurance! Today, just about everyone’s way out of shape, and Covid didn’t do much to help it.

I want to give my own examples, stemming from my own experiences. On my first trip ever hiking over mountains (about a mile away from now hurricane-stricken Asheville!) I could hardly catch my breath at all. I was not accustomed to any of this. But I held out. And by the next summer…I was pretty much ahead of everyone else. Not to brag, but this goes to show how being out in nature, combined with pushing yourself with strenuous physical activity, sleeping outside under tarps, and cooking over fires, can give one a burst of confidence like nothing ever before.

I’m not dissing ordinary team sports. Soccer, basketball, baseball, hockey, etc. are all great, and also terrific confidence boosters. (I will say that even when I was small, my late grandfather would always be in awe of my basketball dribbling skills…AND HE HAD BEEN A COACH…not to mention that I succeeded in landing a three-point shot on only my second ever try.)

However, team sports are not something that neurodiverse people should be pushed into. Sporty parents and family members may have to think out the box, and realize that the talents of the neurodiverse may lie elsewhere…and this is where outdoor and endurance activities, as a matter of fact anything solo, may come into play. Hiking, backpacking, trail running, hunting, fishing, etc. could be way more where it’s at for certain groups and individuals than team sports are.

And yes – in independent outdoor sports, you still socialize, to give society a peace of mind! And you learn to work together as a team…all in less of a forced, pressured way. You’re far from isolated! And as a matter of fact, communication skills are really amped up for many, more so than they would be in team sports. It’s all just more natural, for lack of a better term.

Getting away from the noise and bustle of the cities, and soaking in the natural world. That’s more or less been lauded as a healing balm for many neurodivergent people…more so than loud, crowded, pressured team sports. Team sports are “where it’s at” for much of our society…but solo sports are just as, if not more in many ways, intense and challenging. And they benefit the neurodiverse greatly. I should know. And they even lead to new interests. Thanks to my old camp, I am now involved in search and rescue and wilderness medicine…and hope to open a secondary school to teach neurodiverse young adults outdoor, wilderness, and emergency skills…self-advocacy on the side!

Finding Your Voice

As someone who’s gone through most of their life not having a voice, I cannot possibly say loud enough how essential it is for young people on the neurodivergent spectrum to learn as soon as possible to BE ASSERTIVE.

I have noticed in many situations, the neurodiverse/disabled one is more or less expected to be the “good/sweet/nice” one (VERY particularly when said individual is female.) I can indeed vouch for what it like to like to get scolded and reprimanded for raising your voice, having an opinion, and/or saying what you feel. Meanwhile, [neurotypical] NT/abled peers are always allowed to act worse and get a free pass. Not only that, in many cases, you’re actually praised for not standing up for yourself!

Why is that? Does it go along with the generalization that disabled/ND individuals are perpetual children, with no true grasp on the larger world, who need to be sheltered because they apparently will never be able to conceptualize society?

I believe in many cases the “grooming” to always be the “nice, good, docile” one in all situations starts the very instant that a child (very particularly if it’s a girl) begins to show the slightest signs of a disability…even before an official diagnosis is made.

Realizing that you have a voice and *must* be able to use it in this world we live in (and that’s not always a “physical” voice” – it can be a hypothetical voice such as a communication device, letterboards, sign language, cards, etc.) can be overwhelming at first. And I’ll say something: if you spent most of your life being the good, sweet, meek one, there are people, tons of them actually, that are very much going to attempt to discourage you once you find your voice. They’re going to try everything in their power to bring back the “you” they were comfortable with, and that’s because they benefited from your passivity and meekness. People are going to guilt trip you, and make you feel as though you’re flawed. You’ll hear it all the time. Don’t let them get to you. They benefitted from the sweet, weak-willed you. They used you for their own gain. But, there *will* be a few that will respect and encourage you once you *do* start speaking up.

I’ll give an example: at my old camp in North Carolina, we were in the camp van, and someone sitting next to me was doing something that was bothering me. Instead of going, “um…hee…hee…” like I would do in such a situation (and remembering the one or two times, back at my old school when I, trembling meekly, attempted to stand up for myself, the “teacher” (not a licensed teacher) would say, “oh Giggles (note: my name was ‘Giggles’ because you know what they say…if you don’t laugh, you’ll cry) you can’t be mean like those guys. You’re so sweet and nice. They’re mean, so it’s okay for them to do those things to you),” I took a deep breath, and said, in my tiny, trembling, timid voice, “ummm…please stop…I don’t like that.”

I instantly braced myself for the explosion to happen. And it happened. But not in the way that I was expected. Instead of the van launching into “You can’t be mean to people like that! You’re too nice! That’s not like you,” one counselor, Addie, exploded into cheers, spun around and high-fived me, and whooped, “Kerry! You GO, tough girl!” And I could see faces all around the van, with huge eyes, their jaws on the floor, shocked, and in a state of disbelief. I heard a voice coming from another camper, “wow…Kerry NEVER tells them!”

And you know who was in the biggest state of shock in the van, out of all those people? Myself. Did I actually just stand up for myself…and not get into trouble? Moreover, was I actually *praised* for standing up for myself?

So, suffice it to say: I’ve realized that contrary to what I have been told most of my life, anger and passion are indeed good emotions to have to a moderate extent. It’s good to have an outlet to channel your anger, your rage, your passion, and use it to change the world. And a good part of this is learning self-advocacy, and advocacy for the disabled/neurodiverse communities in general.

Edited from original work of Kerry Perdy