As a child, TC Waisman is told that she is on the autism spectrum, but her mother refuses to accept the diagnosis.

Since 1998, TC has worked with leaders in large organizations to enhance their personal leadership capacity and make transformational changes to their leadership practice. Coaching and training leaders and public speaking about adaptive leadership for over 20 years, TC has learned to support her clients’ development using organizational best practices and evidence-based research.

TC is an ICF certified coach, holds a Masters degree in Leadership & Training, and is currently undertaking her doctoral degree in leadership in a post-secondary context. Inspired by her late autism diagnosis at 48 years old, her research focuses on how higher education leaders, faculty, and staff can enhance services and outcomes for autistic students in higher learning.

Since beginning her research two years ago, TC has co-founded a not-for-profit society for neurodiverse individuals, spoken on autism related topics, published an academic literature review on 'autism and the implications for higher learning', and was recently appointed as an editorial board member of the new scientific journal Autism in Adulthood. TC is now a doctoral candidate and is in the midst of her research.

TC is of Indigenous Fijian and Nepalese origin and moved to Vancouver in 1976 where she lives with Dean her partner of 30 years. TC is a proud mother to her fiercely funny 23 year old daughter Sunshine and is the author of the book 75 Traits of Great Leaders. TC is on target to complete her doctoral degree in 2020.

This story originally aired on November 8, 2019 in an episode titled “Late Diagnosis: Stories about being diagnosed as an adult”.

Story Transcript

When I was eight years old, my mom dressed me in my Sunday best and I remember it was really colorful, flowery dress, and it was my favorite dress. My mom packed me in the car and took me to the doctor’s office because she wanted me to be tested for giftedness. You see, I wanted to be a doctor when I grew up but there weren’t many representations of black women doctors in the seventies so my fierce mom wanted to do her best and she wanted to give me any kind of leg-up that she could possibly give me.

So we went to the doctor’s office and she explained to him her reasons why she thought that I was gifted and he thought about it and he looked at me and he knew me well. And he said, “You know, I have an interest in neuroscience and I think your daughter might have something called Asperger’s.” And he used words like ‘disorder’ and ‘social challenges’ and ‘communication challenges’.

I don't know really know how much my mom understood at that time but she made a decision that day that changed the rest of my life. We went out to the parking lot and I remember her getting down on my level and she said to me, “You are very, very bright and nothing is ever going to change that. But we will never talk about this appointment again. We will not talk to your father or to your brothers or to your sister about this.”

I felt deep shame. I wasn’t sure what I did wrong but I knew that I hurt my mom in some way and I wasn’t sure how to fix it. So I did what I thought was best. I never talked about it.

Years went by and I rarely thought about that day. I didn’t want to hurt mom. She was a hardworking woman and she would come home from work tired. And she’d get into her mumu dress which had flowers on it, which was her favorite, and she’d make herself a cup of tea and sit down and that was her joy.

But I tell you what. Any time I put on the Elvis record and I dropped the pin mom couldn’t help herself. She would wiggle a little, she’d jiggle a little, she’d giggle a little. And she'd sashay into our living room and we would have ourselves a good, old-fashioned dance-off. That was my mom. She was a phenomenal woman.

When I think back I know now why the teachers and my family missed the fact that I had Asperger’s or what we now know is under the autism spectrum condition spectrum. It wasn’t easy to catch it especially in my case. I wasn’t showing the usual social challenges and communication challenges. And, because we’re female, a lot of times we get passed in the diagnosis because we present differently than males, so I could see possibly why I wasn’t really fitting into the understanding of ASC.

But there were signs that I had repetitive behavior. And I remember a time in 1979, my friend Stacy Berghauser was having her tenth birthday party and it was the seventies so it was a disco party. She invited her friends and she invited her family and her extended family and we’re having a great dance-off.

Stacy excitedly went up to her family and said, “This is TC. She taught me how to do the hustle.” And so that was it. They brought everybody into the living room, they cleared the center and Stacy and I did the hustle together.

There was a lot of clapping and lots of noise and lots of laughter and more laughter and more laughter and my ten-year-old self wasn’t really sure if they were laughing with us or if they were laughing at us.

As soon as the hustle was done, I made some excuse and I ran out of Stacy Berghauser’s place and never went back. I was embarrassed and I felt stupid and I had a heavy helping of anxiety and self-loathing. I didn’t know then but my ten-year old self wasn’t really sure how to understand this social cue.

In February 25, 2014, mom died of cancer. I was flying home that day from working with an organizational client in Edmonton. I had just landed and I'd gone to the mall to buy my mom a dress, what I knew would probably be her last dress. I got the call from dad and I was in the mall and I was devastated. I was really sad for my family. I was really crushed for me. But I was relieved for my mom because finally she was free.

I wasn’t sure what to make of it. And after a couple of years I started to think about my life again and take stock of it and, somewhere, I remembered that day at the doctor’s office. I thought to myself, “Could the doctor have been right? Could I have had Asperger’s or autism?”

Then I looked at my beautiful daughter’s life, Sunshine and I thought, “Could Sunshine have had autism this whole time and I'd missed all the clues?” So I decided that it was probably time for a diagnosis.

The reason for that was when I saw Sunshine’s life in hindsight, I remember when she was eight years old there was a clue then. She went to play with her best friends, friends that she had known since she was three. Basically she had known them almost all her life and she was having really bad social anxiety. I looked at her and I thought at that time, “Hmm. I wonder if this is normal.”

Then I remember a time when she was ten. We were in the dentist office and the waiting room was packed with people. The sound was really low but then they put a song on and my daughter and I clapped our hands over our ears. We couldn’t handle it. We had a sensory reaction to a high-pitched sound that was in the song itself.

And I looked around and no one else was having this reaction. I think somewhere deep inside I put that away in my heart and in my mind, maybe to be discovered at a future time, but maybe there were signs. So I decided it was time for diagnosis.

I phoned and interviewed many psychologists across British Columbia where I live and I asked them just one question. Have you ever diagnosed an older black woman? You see, I was 48 at this point and I'd been masking for a long time and masking very well so I knew I was not going to be an easy case.

I found one doctor. He and I worked together and on May 17, 2017 I was officially diagnosed. I was relieved for myself. I was very sad for the little girl who was asked to keep this a secret and I was devastated for the child who tried to be a typical normal child and failed year after year, moment after moment, experience after experience.

Then I looked at my daughter Sunshine’s life and I thought, “What does this mean? What does my diagnosis mean? What does it mean to her?”

Sunshine inspired me. She inspired me. At 18 years old my daughter Sunshine moved to England and got a law degree on scholarship and, by the time she was 22 years old, she had graduated at Radboud University in the Netherlands with a Master’s in Human Rights Law. My daughter taught me that autism is not a diagnosis with a period at the end. Autism is being open to all the gifts that the spectrum can give you.

It has been two years since I've been diagnosed and in that time I've tried to stay busy. I co-founded a not-for-profit for neuro-diverse individuals all around the world, I've written academic papers on autism and higher education and I sit on the board of the scientific journal Autism in Adulthood. I’m trying desperately to spend the rest of my life working to make sure that my community is well taken care of and well spoken for and has a voice.

But, really, I’m thinking about my mom and I’m thinking about why she did what she did and I fully understand why she did what she did now. She was protecting me like a mother bear. She knew it was going to be tough enough to be a black woman in the world but how much tougher would it have been if I was a black woman with a neuro-diverse condition. She had no idea but she wasn’t going to take a chance. And I love her for it.

Two months ago, I turned 50. Now, I have high social anxiety, as is my daughter, and this is something that’s on our corner of the spectrum is very, very difficult. Being in front of you, for example, is very difficult for me right now but I decided I was going to have a party.

And I invited all the people whom I loved and I wanted them to know that this party was for them. I wanted the people who came around and knew me when I was 20 and masking and support me and love me now coming out as an autistic woman, I wanted them to know that I love them.

At one point in the night the band had to cheer for me and said, “Let’s wish TC a happy 50th birthday.” And I stood there and I looked at my daughter Sunshine who I was trying to give all the self-love that I could possibly give to her, so she knew that she was going to be okay as an autistic person, and then my husband Dean and all our friends were standing around with drinks in their hand. And I stood there in this red duster, velvet jacket, which is my favorite, and I thought this is my coming-out party. This is me coming out as a 50-year-old black, fierce woman, soon to be a doctor, proud to be autistic. Thank you.