Living, learning, and thriving as a neurodivergent student

I managed to complete Sixth Form with decent AS and A-levels, but I felt adrift. While my peers seemed confident about their futures, I followed the expected path to university, studying BA Classical Music, later transferring to BA Jazz. As the first-generation child of Nigerian immigrants and the first in my family to attend university, I felt the weight of my family’s expectations, alongside the increasing challenge of vocal and motor tics. 

A diagnosis and a new chapter 

In my early twenties, I was diagnosed with Tourette’s Syndrome. Finally, I had an explanation, though it came with the realisation that this neurological condition would be my lifelong companion. What followed was a journey of self-discovery — through therapies, treatments, and connecting with others like me. 

I shared my experiences on platforms like the BBC documentaries Tourette’s: I Swear I Can Sing and Tourette’s: Let Me Entertain You and on Channel 4’s The Undateables. As a Black, neurodiverse woman, I wanted to bring a nuanced perspective to these conversations, especially given the lower rates of Tourette’s diagnosis among women. 

Finding my way to Birkbeck 

Despite my achievements, the allure of completing a degree lingered. A friend mentioned Birkbeck’s evening classes, and I saw an ad on the Tube — a rare occurrence since public transport often exacerbates my tics. This felt like a sign. 

At an Open Evening, I met Dr Jan Etienne, a Black woman succeeding in an often white, male-dominated academic world. This inspiring encounter cemented my decision to apply for the BSc Social Sciences program, and I enrolled. Orientation week introduced me to Birkbeck’s Disability and Dyslexia Service, where I learned about resources like Disabled Students Allowance (DSA). Thanks to Rob Martin from the service, I navigated the process with ease and began accessing the support I needed to thrive. 

Overcoming challenges, embracing support 

During my studies, I was also diagnosed with dyslexia, which reframed my earlier struggles as a lack of proper support rather than a personal failing. With tailored accommodations in place, I could finally engage with learning in a meaningful way. 

Living with disabilities, chronic pain, and neurodiversity presented constant hurdles. Motor tics over the years had led to early-onset arthritis, and I was also managing bipolar disorder and ADHD. Personal losses, a global pandemic, and a year-long break from studies added to the challenges. Yet, Birkbeck’s environment was always understanding. Lecturers, support staff, and wellbeing advisors provided encouragement and flexibility, whether I needed to repeat a year or submit assignments late. I never felt judged—only supported. 

Lessons beyond the classroom 

Studying at Birkbeck taught me resilience and the power of asking for help. This was a place where challenges were met with solutions, where diversity and inclusion weren’t just words but lived values. My journey reminds me that success doesn’t follow a straight path — it’s about finding alternative ways to achieve your goals. 

Looking ahead 

Today, in my professional work supporting children, young people, and families, as well as mentoring my niece and nephew into higher education, I aim to inspire others. I want them to see what’s possible, regardless of the obstacles. 

One of my lecturers, Dr Federico Matos, once said, “You can know.” These words resonate deeply. University isn’t just about acquiring knowledge — it’s about unlocking the potential within yourself. For me, Birkbeck was the gateway to that realisation. 

Studying at Birkbeck taught me resilience and the power of asking for help. This was a place where challenges were met with solutions, where diversity and inclusion weren’t just words but lived values. My journey reminds me that success doesn’t follow a straight path — it’s about finding alternative ways to achieve your goals.