Neuroqueering Your Anxiety...
...I mean your creative practice! (but are they really different?)
Hey there my lovely lab rats! I’ve been invited to co-teach an online course this fall (!!) that you might be interested in. I’m super excited, and all the deets, including info on discounted tickets, are at the bottom of this post.
A recent bout of prolonged, debilitating anxiety has been a humbling reminder that you can’t, in fact, stick me with a fork, because it turns out I’m not—and probably never will be—“done.”
Done with shame, done with insecurity, done with comparing myself to others, done with worrying about what others think of me, done with feeling like a failure for not being more accomplished, more successful, more financially secure, more, more, more….
Every time I give one of my Divergent Design workshops about living in spiral time, design thinking, disrupting shame, etc, I always lead with the caveat “this is the work of a lifetime. It’s a practice, not a destination.”
But as with so many things, it’s often difficult to walk my own talk.
I know in my head that I’ll never be done—not with anxiety, and its attendant depression (because being chronically anxious is really fucking depressing)—but I’ll also never be done with many of the issues that fuel my anxiety (see the list above), nor with the creative dilemmas that stem from it. Like paralysis, or “block,” or burnout, or whatever you want to call it. Like chronically abandoning projects. Like constantly questioning whether my creative work is … you name it: trite, offensive, shallow, silly [insert your own insecurity about your creative work here].
I do know all that, and yet somehow my nervous system didn’t get the memo.
But for a moment, anyway, I seem to be on the other side of this particular paralyzing bout of anxiety, and back to some semblance of a creative practice, and there’s a long list of things that I think have contributed to this reprieve (more on that in another post). But part of it, at least, has been the practice of neuroqueering.
According to Dr. Nick Walker, neuroqueering is “the practice of queering (subverting, defying, disrupting, liberating oneself from) neuronormativity and heteronormativity simultaneously.” She goes on to explain that, “just like queer, the adjective form of neuroqueer can also serve as a label of social identity. One can neuroqueer, and one can be neuroqueer. A neuroqueer individual is any individual whose identity, selfhood, gender performance, and/or neurocognitive style have in some way been shaped by their engagement in practices of neuroqueering, regardless of what gender, sexual orientation, or style of neurocognitive functioning they may have been born with.” Walker, Nick Dr., ‘Neuroqueer: An Introduction’ (2021)
I hadn’t quite thought about what I do to quell anxiety, and especially anxiety about my creative practice, as neuroqueering until my friend KR invited me to co-teach a course this fall called “Neuroqueering Your Creative Practice,” (more on this below), but I’m beginning to see that a lot of the questioning, reframing, and community care I’ve been actively engaging in are a form of subverting, defying, disrupting, liberating myself from the neuronormativity and heteronormativity that are so often fueling much of my anxiety. To be neurodivergent as queer, in the sense that bell hooks means it— “as not about who you’re having sex with, [though] that can be a dimension of it, but queer [in the sense of] the self that is at odds with everything around it and has to invent and create and find a place to speak and to thrive and to live”—is fucking exhausting. And anxiety-producing. But as a verb, neuroqueering is also the very antidote to that anxiety.
Neuroqueereing … subverting, defying, disrupting, liberating myself … talking back to my anxiety (and the shame so often at its root); speaking my anxiety and shame out loud to trusted loved ones; reading about the history of the constructs that “other” and shame me; honestly critiquing my own work from the perspective of those who are marginalized in ways I am not; gathering with fellow creatives who share my struggles and feeling part of something bigger than myself (especially this!)—this has all been part of neuroqueering (and evicting) anxiety, and finding my way back into my creative practice. For now (I know it will come back around, but that’s ok….)
And hey! You can neuroqueer your anxiety—and your creative practice—too!
But what if I’m not queer? you ask. Or not neurodivergent? Or not sure? Or worried I’m an imposter?
The beauty of neuroqueering, as Nick Walker explains it, is that it is not just an identity, but also a verb, and, as she so succinctly puts it: “you’re neuroqueer if you neuroqueer.”
You are what you do. And if what you want to do is make art, but your anxiety, fear, insecurity, imposter syndrome—you name it—is getting in the way, I suggest you start neuroqueering your little heart out.
Right now I’m taking my second course with KR—the first was Writing While Neurodivergent (which I wrote about here), and the one that started this week is called Writing from Lived Experience—which I am taking in the hopes of getting better at what I do for you here in this newsletter. Tuesday was our first class and as I logged into the Zoom room I felt excited to be writing in a way I haven’t for a long time—in the hands of an instructor I know and trust, with fellow students who struggle in many of the same ways I do, and with clear instructions I can just follow, without having to be in charge and muster all of the willpower all on my own.
It felt like such a relief.
During the writing exercises, I wrote about anxiety—everything from rambling free-associative thoughts to concrete sensory details—which in turn prompted much of this post.
If any of this sounds interesting to you, I invite you to consider a new course coming this fall that KR and Meg Max and I are putting together called Neuroqueering Your Creative Practice. Below is a description and here is a link where you can express interest (with no commitment!) and make yourself eligible for discounted Early Bird tickets.
If you have any questions at all, please leave a comment below or hit reply to this email and I’ll get right back to you!
Neuroqueering Your Creative Practice:
Neuroqueer (v): the practice of queering (subverting, defying, disrupting, liberating oneself from) neuronormativity and heteronormativity simultaneously
This 12 week online course is co-facilitated by KR Moorhead, Marta Rose and Meg Max.
What is the course about?
This course is a deep dive into a variety of ‘neuroqueering’ practices, geared towards artists and creatives. As a community, we will deconstruct capitalist/colonialist concepts of time, work, productivity, shame, ‘executive function’, giving and receiving feedback, and more, while simultaneously constructing new systems, languages, narratives, and ways of being/creating that subvert, defy, disrupt, and liberate us from neuronormativity and heteronormativity.
Sessions will feature a mix of facilitator presentation, practical and reflective writing exercises, and opportunities for group discussion. No attendees will ever be pressured to speak or share.
*This course can be taken as a follow-on from Writing While Neurodivergent or as a standalone course.
Who is this course for?
Anyone who writes or makes art (or would like to). No previous knowledge or experience required.
“One can neuroqueer, and one can be neuroqueer. A neuroqueer individual is any individual whose identity, selfhood, gender performance, and/or neurocognitive style have in some way been shaped by their engagement in practices of neuroqueering, regardless of what gender, sexual orientation, or style of neurocognitive functioning they may have been born with.” (Walker, N.)
When will this course run?
Every Thursday: Oct 3rd - Dec 19th. 6-8pm UK/1-3pm EST
Where will this course run?
All sessions will run on Zoom. Sessions will be recorded and shared with all ticket holders.
Register your interest and get exclusive access to discounted Early Bird Tickets!
Early Bird Tickets on Sale from Aug 8th - Aug 22nd:
Accomplice: £349 (or 4 monthly payments of £87.25)
General Admission: £249 (or 4 monthly payments of £62.25)
Subsidised: £149 (or 4 monthly payments of £37.25)
Regular Ticket Prices: (£399/£299/£199 or 4 monthly instalments)
Meet the Facilitators:
KR Moorhead (they/them) is an AuDHD, gender non-compliant educator, and author of The First Law of Motion (2009). From 2009-2023 they taught creative writing at the University of East Anglia where they earned an MA in Creative Writing: Prose Fiction in 2007. KR also has a Postgraduate Certificate in Higher Education Practice and a Postgraduate Diploma in Education Practice and Research, both from UEA.
Since choosing to pursue freelance mentoring and facilitating, KR has launched FLUX: Trans* Writers Circle, as well as a Crash Course in Writing While Neurodivergent. They have facilitated for Writers in Bloom, Beyond Form Creative Writing, Devotion Workshop, Norwich School of Creative Writing, and Oxbridge Academic Courses. They currently teach a number of courses for City Lit, and on the Creative Writing MA at The University of Hull.
Originally from Philadelphia, KR now lives in Norwich, UK with their partner and three cats.
Marta Rose is a queer AuDHD writer and artist. Her work offers critical insights and healing metaphors for reframing the ways we understand neurodivergence. She founded and directs Divergent Design Studios, an online community offering body doubling, workshops, and peer support for neurodivergent creatives. She writes a weekly(ish) substack newsletter called The Spiral Lab, and has published several ebooks, including Neuroemergent Time: Making Time Make Sense for ADHD and Autistic People and Getting Started is the Hardest Part. Her work has been cited by Dr. Devon Price in Unmasking Autism, by Rebecca Schiller in A Thousand Ways to Pay Attention, and by Jesse Meadows in the Sluggish newsletter, among others. She holds an MFA in creative writing from Warren Wilson College. She has two grown neurodivergent children and lives in Philadelphia, on the land of the Lenni Lenape people, with her partner.
Meg Max is a neurodivergent, mentally ill writer, artist and mother. She’s way more fun than that first sentence makes her sound. Her fiction has been published online and in print throughout North America, and was nominated for a Pushcart Prize. She has a certificate in therapeutic arts from the Canadian International Institute of Art Therapy, and alongside founding Writers in Bloom, has facilitated with various schools, organizations and artists through Canada, the UK and the US. For a good time, Meg takes long walks where she gathers treasures to make art out of found or recycled materials. Meg lives on the unceded territory of the Algonquin Anishinaabe people, with her husband, kiddo, two dogs and three vacuums.