Autism makes me great at my job but terrible at interviews

This first-person column is the experience of Henry Gordon, who lives in Calgary. For more information on CBC’s first-person stories, please see the FAQ.

I did the mental equivalent of a double take. I was sitting at my desk waiting for an appointment. Mild amusement at the possibility cooled into thoughtful disbelief at the increasingly probable fact.

It’s not possible, is it?

Of the dozens of jobs I had applied for—and the roughly dozen jobs I had made it to the interview stage—every time the application called for an interview, I failed to get the job. Was I that bad at interviews?

I’m an emerging autistic stage manager—at least I am when the theater isn’t closed due to pandemic restrictions.

There is enough pressure during an interview to give the right answers. This can be a stressful situation for anyone, but for me, autism makes interviews extremely challenging.

It turns out I’m much better at finding jobs that don’t require an interview — like odd jobs as an accountant and a construction position I got through temp work or personal connections.

During interviews, I have to maintain eye contact, deal with stressful environments such as fluorescent lights and distracting noises, wear uncomfortable clothing, and not get irritated.

Stimulation is performing movements that burn off nerve energy, such as clapping hands, waving fingers, and pacing. Not being stimulated is stressful for me. I always need to move to think.

But the slightest mistake, a slip of the mask, and I feel like I’m making someone experience the “uncanny valley”—the feeling of discomfort that comes when something looks almost human, but isn’t. Abnormal.

Now I have to worry about giving good answers and making eye contact to appear ‘normal’. It’s exhausting.

I’ve tried telling people about my autism in the interview process and outlining the ways in which there are benefits, but that doesn’t seem to help.

So now when I start a new job, I often don’t tell my employer I’m autistic until the second or third day on the job, so my employer’s first impression of me is my work, not my neurodiversity. After disclosing it, most of my employers and colleagues have been extremely supportive.

But where autism can be a hindrance to finding a job, autism is an asset in my career.

I didn’t dream of doing stage management as a child, but since I was a child I wanted to tell stories. I also had to study social behavior to survive as a neurodivergent in a neurotypical world. Theater, which is about understanding social behavior, was a natural path.

At university I learned that the Lethbridge Shakespeare Performance Society was looking to fill some production roles for the summer. I applied, didn’t need an interview, and worked with them for three summers.

Since then, I’ve worked on several productions, including working during the pandemic with a private school in the city and volunteering with the Calgary Folk Festival and the podcast, The dark side of the web. I am especially proud of my work with the Lethbridge Shakespeare Performance Society’s production of Macbeth and the output of the university Titus Andronicus.

I love being able to help others create great work.

My typical day involves sitting in the theater under harsh working lights, taking notes and seeing the whole picture. I keep track of stage entrances and exits, prop and costume movements, while taking notes from the director and keeping an eye on the clock so the actors get timely breaks.

I construct what’s called a “pilot’s checklist” for the show, breaking down the complex into simple tasks—just like I would in everyday life.

Being able to see and hear everything that’s going on, then filter the almost overwhelming amount of detail down to the essentials, is something I’ve always needed to do as a basic survival mechanism for a divergent brain living in a neurotypical world.

But I still feel pressure not to look autistic. I feel pressure to look ‘normal’ – even in theatre, which is a more inclusive industry and where I feel my autism can be beneficial. I don’t want to be just thought of as “the boy with autism”. I want to be seen as a person with autism who is good at what he does.

My autism is a part of who I am, but I feel like I have to constantly disguise myself in order to establish myself in my career. This is disappointing. I want employers to understand that I am good at my job because of my autism, but traditional job interviews are not the best way to show that.

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Telling his story

CBC Calgary is running a series of in-person writing workshops across the city to help community members tell their own stories.

Read more from the workshop organized by the Genesis Centre:

To learn more about our writing workshops or to suggest a community organization to help host, email CBC Producer Elise Stolte or visit cbc.ca/albertastories.