Leadership
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For years, lawyer Roshni Thakrar masked the struggles she couldn’t explain. When she received her dyslexia diagnosis it didn’t just reframe her career in law, it revealed the hidden reality many neurodivergent professionals face navigating workplaces built for someone else.
“I was 32 when I was diagnosed with dyslexia. I had absolutely no idea, but it made sense when I looked back on my journey to become a lawyer,” reflects Thakrar. “I found myself overcome with a lot of compassion for this girl who had worked so hard.”
Thakrar had been masking her whole life, trying to navigate the competitive and rigid expectations of the legal profession. We all wear masks in our daily lives, putting on different versions of ourselves to best suit the environment we’re in. For some people, the person we are at home with our family can be different from the person we are in the office. For neurodivergent people in particular, “masking” is an exhausting daily task as they try to fit into a neurotypical society.
Studies suggest approximately 15 to 20 percent of the population is neurodiverse, and it’s generally accepted that actual figures are underreported due to societal stigma. Thakrar is one of the many neurodivergent women who are diagnosed later in life with dyslexia. It’s common for neurodivergent women to exist in plain sight, as social conditioning teaches girls to anticipate the emotional response of others from a young age, aka to mask.
The cost of masking – a late diagnosis
“I had no idea that I was dyslexic, but it made sense when I looked back on my journey to become a lawyer,” she says. “I felt a huge sense of relief, the diagnosis helped me to understand the struggles I’d faced to become a lawyer, and why I’d found some aspects of law so much harder than others.”
The adage goes that hard work beats talent when talent doesn’t work hard, and Thakrar prides herself on being a product of hard work and perseverance.
“I could never cram before an exam. I was studying months in advance, learning what I needed to.” She reflects on struggling with her b’s and d’s as a child, but once she’d progressed past that bump in the road, there was nothing more teachers said to indicate that she was neurodiverse.
It wasn’t until Thakrar was in an in-house role at a financial services company that the signs began to appear. “I was writing comprehensive legal advice that would outline a range of potential legal risks and mitigation strategies,” she explains. “But it was too detailed, or I simply hadn’t given my clear point of view, and my manager was struggling to understand what the answer was to advise the business.”
Harvard Business Review describes neurodiversity as “a competitive advantage.”
Thakrar came to realize her manager wanted a direct answer, or shall we say legal fix, not a menu of options, but the experience of giving advice she thought was clear, only to have it received with confusion, led her to question if something else was going on. Cue her dyslexia diagnosis at the age of 32.
A lack of inclusivity in the workplace
Learning that she was neurodiverse in her 30s was a hugely emotional and, at times, a scary experience as Thakrar came to terms with the fact that a label shrouded in stigma now applied to her. Yet one of the most surprising aspects of her journey was discovering that she wasn’t the only one who had been wearing a mask.
Despite employers talking a good game about Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI), Thakrar soon learned it felt like a box-tick, especially when it came to neurodiversity. “I didn’t feel like my lived experience was one of kindness or support and fundamentally, genuine psychological safety,” she muses. “I felt like I was a problem that needed to be fixed.”
Thakrar’s plight is not unusual. Research from Deloitte shows that despite an increasing corporate focus on DEI in the workforce, the neurodivergent group is often overlooked in the diversity conversation.
“People can talk a great game with DEI, but in reality, those of us who don’t fit the norm within corporate or legal environments can feel like we’re pushing a boulder uphill, especially as those already disadvantaged, which again, is exhausting,” says Thakrar.
Thakrar is now a passionate advocate for embracing neurodiversity and creating psychological safety in the workplace through her consultancy company Inclusiviteam. Inclusiviteam is committed to advancing DEI strategies and the lived experiences of employees and employers; to understand that kindness and understanding in the workplace must be a key KPI and by embracing and celebrating differences, we can also get the best commercial outcomes. Thakrar, given her own intersectional identity, brings knowledge and experience as to why this matters from a legal perspective, too.
Despite the disdain that still exists about neurodiversity, Thakrar believes it shouldn’t be viewed as a weakness and can indeed be a strength, with some claiming it to be a superpower. “The key is, and will always be, meeting people where they are, who they are, what makes them tick, and how we can acknowledge their strengths and challenges and get the best out of them, so they shine.”
The business case for neurodiversity
The term neurodiversity, first coined in the 1990s by sociologist Judy Singer, highlights that neurological differences are a natural part of human diversity, akin to the biodiversity of Earth’s ecosystems. Neurodiversity typically includes ADHD, autism, dyslexia, dyspraxia, dyscalculia, dysgraphia, and Tourette’s Syndrome.
Harvard Business Review describes neurodiversity as “a competitive advantage,” stating that people with autism and dyslexia often “have extraordinary skills, including those in pattern recognition, memory, and mathematics.” While the University of Auckland adds creative problem-solving, hyperfocus, and lateral thinking to this list of super skills.
Thakrar is an advocate for the power of neurodiversity in the workplace. “Years of masking have made me very attuned to reading people and social cues, and I consistently get feedback from clients that they want to work with me because I am a team player, take the time to listen to others, am highly approachable, and emotionally attuned,” she explains.
Thakrar isn’t alone in her belief. Deloitte states that “teams with neurodivergent professionals in some roles can be 30 percent more productive than those without them.”
Pure legal expertise is, of course, a fundamental part of what makes a good lawyer, but there’s a multitude of other skills, and emotional intelligence is a huge factor. The law would not exist without people to govern. And matters of the law are intrinsically linked to human relationships, so it’s undeniable that the art of negotiation, connection, and conversation are priceless legal skills.
Although the data paints a positive picture for neurodiversity in the workplace, people with lived experience like Thakrar still don’t feel comfortable being perceived as an “other”. She believes the only way we can change this perception is by creating a cultural shift in which neurodiverse people feel psychologically safe, accepted, and welcomed in the workplace.
Thakrar is calling for agile and thoughtful recruitment processes, and consciously designed retention policies and practices to enable people at all stages of their careers to be celebrated and promoted where possible. “The motto is, how can I get each person that joins the company to shine, and then give them opportunities that both nurture and stretch them along the way,” she says.
Shifts in pedagogy don’t happen overnight, but they do begin with conversation, and the willingness to look at things with an open mind.
