Neurodivergence & Systems Thinking
I’ve always been a strong writer, so grant writing felt like a natural transition from social work when I was ready for a new challenge. Okay, that may be a nicer way to tell the truth that I burned out quickly and needed an escape. Either way…
What I didn’t expect is that the way my brain works helps me be more than just a writer—it helps me be a strong fundraiser.
During my autism evaluation, the clinician asked me a long series of questions to understand if, and how, my brain recognizes patterns. It was the first time I realized that I see patterns everywhere. From license plates to TV shows, I’m constantly scanning for patterns.
Over time, I’ve come to realize I see the whole world in patterns. You know how the Marvel Universe exists across multiple stories that come together to form one greater world? That’s how I see everything. Separate and distinct entities that fit together into one giant thing. I notice the callbacks, the connections, and how something small becomes important later.
I can zoom into each movie and analyze the characters and storylines to see how they contribute to the greater universe.
The way my ADHD shows up is that I zoom in and focus on individual details before zooming back out to see the whole picture.
When I was growing up, my mom asked me to clean my room. Hours later, all I had accomplished was organizing the drawer that housed my nail polish collection. I needed to get the small part just right, so I could then zoom out and see the bigger picture.
Understandably, my mom was not pleased with what she perceived as a lack of progress. She said I was too focused on the small details to see the whole picture. I couldn’t understand what she meant; I had organized the whole drawer. I took out every single bottle, sorted them by color, and put them back in a way that made sense to my brain. A way with a system.
What she didn’t realize was that I was constantly switching—zooming in and out, moving between the two because everything is connected.
It used to frustrate me. Now I’ve finally found a way to use this to my advantage.
I realized I wasn't consciously trying to "think strategically." I literally couldn't stop zooming in and out between the details and the bigger picture. Eventually, I realized that's exactly how I approach fundraising.
When I submit a proposal to a funder, they receive a complete package, and then evaluate it piece by piece. To make sure that proposal works, I need to see the full picture and the small details at the same time.
I look at our overall number of people served, and I also spend time learning about the individual people whose stories make our work impactful. I review our budget proposals, and then spend time understanding how each line item will support our work. I identify potential funders who support organizations like ours, but I also spend time reviewing their specific funding decisions to understand their giving history and unspoken priorities.
Weak proposals aren’t necessarily a product of weak writing, but perhaps a sign that departments aren't communicating well with each other. If finance doesn’t talk to program staff, a budget may be developed differently than how the program will actually be implemented. Finance may prioritize staffing costs based on the numbers available, while the program manager knows additional supplies are what will make the program successful. I act as the bridge, making sure everything is connected. I zoom in to each side, and then zoom out to make sure that the budget and narrative tell the same story.
For a long time, I thought I had learned to think strategically. Eventually, I realized I had been thinking this way all along. It turns out I needed a career where that way of thinking became a strength.
