‘I avoid pubs and the student union like the plague’: Students with Asperger Syndrome and their negotiation of university spaces

Abstract

Research was conducted to gain insight into the lives of students with Asperger Syndrome (AS) during their transitions into higher education. Eight students were recruited from across the United Kingdom to partake in a year-long longitudinal study that incorporated life-history interviews. In their responses, the majority of interviewees identified spaces within their universities as being inaccessible. They found obstacles locating themselves in spaces where other students generally tend to congregate (e.g. student unions, pubs, libraries) due to their sensory impairments. As a result, a number of respondents experienced difficulty engaging socially in university life. This paper explores how students with AS and hypersensitivities negotiated these barriers. While some experienced a sense of ease, others were not as successful. This difference in experience, as argued here, reflects the diversity of individuals who have AS. Reflecting upon this diversity, it is hoped this paper will contribute to raising the profile of young adults with AS and wider questions about disabled student support provision in higher education.

Keywords:

• ableism
• Asperger Syndrome
• disabled students
• higher education
• hypersensitivity

Since the passage of the Disability Discrimination Act (DDA) (1995) in the United Kingdom (UK), there has been much work examining the disabled student experience in UK universities (Borland and James 1999, Holloway 2001, Fuller et al. 2004a, 2004b, National Disability Team and Skill 2004, Riddell et al. 2005, Goode 2007). However, these works discount the differences underneath the umbrella of disability (Barnes 2003). To counter this, studies are now emerging about students with specific impairments (e.g. dyslexia and Asperger Syndrome) and their experiences in higher education (HE) (Taylor 2005, Madriaga 2007). Although a specific impairment focus may appear to reaffirm divisions within the Disabled Peoples' Movement (Humphrey 1999), it does bring attention to the particularities of impairments, such as Asperger Syndrome (AS), which have often been ignored in the social model of disability literature (with Molloy and Vasil 2002, being an exception). This paper attempts to address this gap by examining the everyday geographies of university students with AS with a view to spark a rethink about disabled student support and inclusive practice in HE.

Spatial mobilities, higher education and students with Asperger Syndrome

A geographical analysis is significant in drawing attention to the taken-for-granted, axiomatic relationship between ableism and public space (Chouinard 1997, Parr and Butler 1999). Chouinard (1997) discussed how this relationship negatively impacts upon her everyday life. She has found that strangers walking along a city street assume the ‘right’ to invade her privacy by approaching her, asking about her impairment and questioning her use of a walking aid. She argues that this is an indication of the pervasiveness of ableism in public spaces as it makes ‘an individual marked by a disability difference’ to be ‘regarded as an “open” person who can be approached with less reserve and respect than the “average” adult’ (Chouinard 1997, p. 381). This axiomatic relationship between ableism and public space is taken-for-granted to the extent that it is left unmarked and invisible, as it is considered ‘normal’ (Davis 1995). A geographical analysis aids in unmasking, raising awareness of this ‘normal’, oppressive process which hinders and restricts the spatial mobilities of disabled people in their everyday lives (Imrie 1996a). This particular approach ‘unsettles’ this normalcy, demarcating ableism that is taken-for-granted in the (re)production of public space(s) as reflected upon by Chouindard above. It is through such an approach which uncovers knowledge that can be used ‘to further political struggles against environments that exclude and marginalise disabled people’ (Chouinard 1997, p. 380).

This paper attempts to uncover this axiomatic relationship by focusing attention on the spatial mobilities of disabled students in higher education, particularly students with AS. Lack of physical access into university buildings and spaces have always been at the forefront of discussion when exploring barriers of disabled students in higher education (Chard and Couch 1998, Shevlin et al. 2004). However, this issue only seems to highlight obstacles faced by individuals with specific mobility impairments, such as those who use wheelchairs or those with visual impairments (see also Tharper et al. 2004). There has been no exploration on how university students with hypersensitivities to sounds, sights and crowds, such as those associated with AS, negotiate spaces within their universities. This paper provides evidence to disabled student support practitioners within higher education institutions to rethink support provision, particularly in supporting students with AS and hypersensitivities.

Contributions made within the geography of impairment literature have provided insight on how disabled people have limited social worlds due to disabling societal barriers (Dyck 1995, Gleeson 1996, 1999, Imrie 1996a, 1996b, 2001, Kitchin 1998, Hall 2004). Much of this literature has been informed by the social model of disability where disabling barriers are understood to be socially constructed as opposed to a medical model of disability where disability is considered one's own problem (Oliver 1990). This paper follows on from this ontological understanding of disability, which is more in line with the geographical perspectives of Imrie (1996a) and Chouinard (1997) and critiquing the everyday processes of ableism rather than the stance of Golledge (1996) and his objection that disability and conceptions of ‘normal’ are social phenomena. Disabling barriers, in a social sense, includes ‘little recognition of the structural constraints, institutional discrimination and individual stigmatization and abjection, through verbal and non-verbal abuse, avoidance and victimization’ that many disabled people experience in their everyday lives (Hall 2004, p. 300). To be free from the stigma and the stares (Ryan 2005a) of a nondisabled world, some disabled people may seek refuge in ‘safe’ spaces, isolating or excluding themselves from mainstream society (Hall 2004). These safe spaces could equate to self-advocacy groups where disabled people ‘make the decision to exclude themselves from discriminating and intimidating mainstream social spaces and to instead be included in social networks of friends, families or carers’ (Hall 2004, p. 303).

For students with AS who have sensory impairments, their ‘safe’ spaces may equate to spaces freed from auditory and visual overstimulation (Attwood 1998, 2006, Smith Myles 2000, Bogdashina 2001, 2003, Dunn et al. 2002, Breakey 2006). Considering the sights, sounds and crowds of student union facilities (e.g. pubs and cafes), a safe space may be the silence of a library or the tranquillity of their own student accommodation. It is the lack of accessibility to more social venues within universities which may be cause for concern. Of course, it is widely known within the medical model view of AS that many individuals with AS find it problematic to interact socially with others due to impairments in communication and interaction (Wing 1991, Happé 1994, Attwood 1998, 2006, Howlin 1998, Gillberg 2002, Frith 2003, Harpur et al. 2003). This has been evidenced in a recent UK study of 237 adults with AS where 77% of them found social situations either extremely or very stressful (Beardon and Edmonds 2007, p. 196). However, while not discounting individual anxieties interacting with others, this paper addresses the extent of societal barriers which perpetually excludes students with AS and sensory impairments from certain university spaces.

The lack of accessible spaces to have opportunities to connect with peers may socially and spatially constrain the lives of students with AS (Dyck 1995, p. 315). It has been recognised that living in a shrunk social world can lead an individual with AS towards depression (Harpur et al. 2003). However, a contrasting argument is that being isolated and alone can be considered a comfort for some individuals with AS (Attwood 2006). What has to be considered in these arguments is the range of diversity existing underneath the category of AS (Bogdashina 2006). Some crave social interaction, others crave being alone. Whatever their preference, students with AS should be able to enter various university spaces without confronting barriers which trigger anxieties or hypersensitivities. Similar sentiments have been expressed in recent writings that discussed barriers and support issues for students with AS in HE in the UK (Blamires and Gee 2002, Taylor 2005, Birnie 2006, Martin 2006). However, these writings, as a whole, are focused on the work of practitioners. They do very little in placing the voices of students with AS in the foreground, as this paper attempts to do.

Researching the geographies of university students with AS

To address the extent of inclusivity of university spaces, a longitudinal study was initiated. This entailed following the lives of students with AS during their first academic year within a HE setting (2006–2007). Recruiting respondents to the study from across the UK was facilitated by links with the National Association of Disability Practitioners (NADP). Sending out an email via the NADP email list proved to be the most successful means in recruiting respondents. Practitioners were asked in an email to forward a letter to first-year students with AS within their institutions. Within this letter, it stated that those who participated in the study would receive £60 voucher to a national bookstore chain.

Eight students from various areas of the UK were recruited to obtain their life-histories. This required a researcher to travel throughout country to meet students. Seven of the eight respondents were aged between 18 and 23. One respondent was 30 years old. Through good fortune, one of the eight students happened to be a first-year MA student who agreed to take part. Although his status as a postgraduate student was not part of the original remit of the study, his story added to the diversity of experiences that all respondents confronted in new environments (See Figure 1 for respondent details.).

Figure 1. About the respondents.

Much work was done to ensure the research project was ethically sound. The research team strived for an emancipatory research agenda with those who participated in the project (Mercer 2002, Barnes 2003). Transcripts of interviews were always sent back to respondents for their review. This provided them with opportunities to make amendments and clarify what was said. In working with all respondents, informed consent, ensuring confidentiality and transparency was always pursued. Hence, throughout this report, the names of respondents appear as pseudonyms. Although guaranteeing confidentiality was a formal process of the research, the form and style of the interviews were informal. The researcher let his subjectivities come across to the interviewees, as he reflected upon his own beliefs. In giving information about himself, the researcher made the interviews more personable and supportive. This informality led to opportunities for celebrating interviewees' achievements.

The analytical approach taken was informed by grounded theory. The hallmark of grounded theory, according to Charmaz (1995, p. 32), consists of the researcher deriving his or her analytic categories directly from the culture under investigation, not from preconceived concepts or hypotheses. It was from the narratives of student respondents where common themes emerged about their negotiations of certain space(s) in university. Particular spaces of student life have been highlighted, such as fresher's week, student union, student union pubs (or pubs in general), libraries and student accommodation.

Findings

It has been noted earlier that some individuals with AS may have impairments in communication and interaction. The inability to read social cues and the paranoia of saying something wrong to others will have a negative impact on one's confidence to socially engage with others. Compounding these anxieties of social engagement is an awareness of one's own hypersensitivities. It was having this awareness which sparked discussion about potential barriers that could hinder respondents from interacting with other students. Several respondents identified barriers to participating in fresher's fair (week) activities organised by their respective student unions, as well as accessing local student pubs. These particular spaces are highlighted because of the significance of social interaction as discussed above. It is no way an attempt to caricature university student lives. These spaces were perceived by respondents as spaces where they can further opportunities to socially engage with other students outside the classroom. At the same, these spaces were inaccessible to some due to their sensory impairments.

Student union – fresher's fair (week)

Six of eight respondents indicated they had attended this event within their respective institutions. This event provided them with the opportunity to enlist themselves into various student societies and develop a social timetable (Martin 2006). Three respondents successfully enlisted themselves into student societies by means of this event. One respondent, Len, was elected secretary in his student union's science society at the end of his first-year. Another respondent, Cathy, was accompanied by a ‘mentor’, a disabled student support worker, to help her to navigate around the event. This respondent joined five different student union societies and regularly participated in them all throughout the year.

While a few respondents did not express any anxieties in negotiating fresher's week activities, two did. The latter attributed their distaste for fresher's week to hypersensitive aspects of their AS condition. Alan described what he saw after walking into his university's fresher's fair, and then immediately walking out:

I walk into the society fair and they crammed all these societies in a little room … I walked-in. Oh ******* hell, I got to get out of here! There was all these mad people in there. It was like students bouncing off the walls. I felt like I could hit somebody in a minute. I cannot be dealing with this! I don't like big crowds of people … I think it is part of the condition. I have always been the same. I never liked loud noises. I don't like arguments. What is that called when you need plenty of space around you? Claustrophobia! You get all these people there. I get quite stressed out when there is a lot of people around me.

Another respondent, Mark, explained, ‘[fresher's week events] are completely and utterly unsuitable for someone who does not like noise and crowds. I avoid them like the plague’. Instead of participating in fresher's fair, he joined the university's wind orchestra and clarinet choir just by getting ‘in touch’ with the music department. As he stated, ‘Well, nearly every university has that, a wind orchestra. So, I got in touch with the wind orchestra here and I went for an audition and they put me in first clarinet!’ For him, being a part of these activities was ‘a godsend’ in coping with isolation issues:

It is going to be even more useful this [spring] term because every lecture I have with the department is condensed into an extraordinarily busy Monday and a rather busy Tuesday. The rest of the week is essentially doing coursework. So, that was going to present some isolation issues. So, having the clarinet choir and the wind instrument orchestra on two separate days is going to be an absolute godsend.

Although a godsend, he admitted that he had not actually befriend other society members throughout the year, as they went to the pub immediately after rehearsals. He refused to go with them because pubs heighten his hypersensitivities to noise, crowds and cigarette smoke. As he explained, ‘They nearly all go to the pub after the wind band. The exception, of course, me, because I just won't function at all.’

The student pub

The previous respondent was not the only one who had reservations about entering a pub. Half of respondents expressed similar sentiments. Louis labelled his institution's student bar as ‘trouble’ because it poses a barrier for him to socially engage with other students. Not being able to enter the student union bar or pub is significant considering it is a space where students are able to break down social and spatial barriers that occur in their classrooms and student accommodations. In explaining the difficulty of entering the student bar, Louis touched upon his experience of social isolation on his first day at university:

At one point, on the very first day, I sat in that room there (he pointed to the next room within café where interview was taken place). I was totally by myself and I realised that this was not right. I did not want to be sitting here all by myself. Why am I sitting here all by myself with no people around me? I already had a good look at the students and they did not look all too bad. Why on earth wouldn't I go and sit with them for once, I should. There was only one trouble. They got a student bar here and I do not get on pretty well with it. For me, because I don't smoke and there is also lots of noise that goes on up there, I am never easy to take in so much volume. This is why I confine myself to quiet places. It makes it easy for me to concentrate.

Louis was then asked if he found loud noises, like in the bar, annoying. His response provides more insight in how he negotiated spaces at his institution:

The student bar when it is crowded with students, I just can't take it. I get sort of claustrophobia up there. I feel it is too much for me to take up there. There is no where to sit and there is no space to walkabout. I don't mind going up there in the morning when it is empty and sort of quiet in a way and I have plenty of leg room to walkabout … But, once I open the door, if I hear a large volume of conversation, I know that there are a lot of students there. If it is silent, in the other hand, therefore I know that there are not a lot of students there at all.

Respondents who expressed similar sentiments about going into a crowded pub had also experienced difficulty in engaging socially with other students. This led these particular respondents to have to exclude themselves from other related social events. Lisa described a negative consequence of not going to the pub with coursemates:

[Going to the pub] is not what I enjoy doing. And, also, I am deadly allergic to wine and beer and stuff. So, why would I go and do that? … I don't think I am missing out on the event itself, because I know that I would not enjoy it. But, it is annoying when everyone is like ‘Do you know what so and so said last night? It was so funny!’ I will be like, ‘No. I don't know.’

These respondents were aware of the implications of excluding themselves. They acknowledge their isolation:

My whole life has been spent worrying about isolation and essays, both together … It is an absolutely foul thing for someone with AS to have to do in any kind of further education. I suppose I am just a glutton for punishment (laughing) (Mark).

… I'll not say I have exactly built-up any friends, not because I haven't got on well with pupils, but because I haven't exactly got on well with them at all really … Everyday, when I come here [university], I wish I could somehow talk to these students … (Louis).

… I don't know anyone else [on course] because I am a lonely person … That's the way I am. I can cope with it now. I think it is best for me to do that, because if I get in the wrong sort of group I won't be doing any work. I won't have time to do anything. They probably would all want to go out to the pubs and all that … (Ray).

The loneliness an individual with AS experiences has been widely recognised within more medical circles (Gillberg 2002, Frith 2003, Attwood 2006). Thus, in some sense, it has been no surprise that half of respondents in this study had been diagnosed with depression at some point in their lives (Gillberg 2002). However, the loneliness that respondents described in HE can be possibly addressed if there were more attractive spaces, similar to the student union pub, where students can congregate without having to contend with loud noises, huge crowds and the consumption of alcohol. The narratives shared by Louis, Lisa, Ray and Mark disrupt ‘normal’ in everyday conceptions of university student life, challenging the ‘mythical “norm”’ of university student (Parr and Butler 1999, p. 9). They highlight how ableism is taken-for-granted in fresher week activities and how central alcohol consumption and the pub are in student union life. These student-led activities create senses of community and inclusion among students to the exclusion of others. This process, that is often left unmarked due to being taken-for-granted, results not only in the othering of individuals, but to their exclusion from certain spaces (Parr and Butler 1999).

While one half of respondents expressed their anxieties about entering a crowded pub, the other half of respondents did not. The latter expressed a fondness in meeting their coursemates socially at pubs. Two of them even had experience working in a pub. Karen, who acquired her first full-time job at a local pub, believed the experience made her more confident about making friends:

I did not think I would be able to cope in a job … It was pretty good because I learned a lot of things about myself for starters and a lot of things about my friends … I think it gave me a lot more confidence. Before I was like thinking that people don't like me. I do have tendency to believe that people hate me before they like me. Whereas at the pub, because they were so welcoming, it made me think that maybe I do deserve to have friends and I deserve to be treated well by my friends.

Another respondent, Alan, remarked that working in a pub ‘forced’ him to learn social skills:

My idea of making friends was thumping people. I was just odd. Everybody was saying I was odd. Working in the pub and working with people all the time has actually taught me social skills, because you are forced to do it. I found the pub hard work, because I would have to deal with people. It gets easier. I have come to a conclusion with Asperger's that it is not too bad. Obviously, there are different degrees. You can learn. But, I still say stupid things sometimes. I really drop myself in the crap.

This respondent identified himself as being hypersensitive to noise and crowds of people. In confronting a query of a possible contradiction between his hypersensitivities and working in a busy student bar, he explained:

I hate loads of people around me. I get to the point where I want to hit somebody in a minute! I don't like big crowds. I think that is the reason why I was okay behind the bar because I had this big lump of wood in front of me, which is like my barrier. I can't go into busy pubs and things like that.

Having that ‘big lump of wood’ provided him a sense of safety and security within a busy student bar. It allowed him space to do his job. More importantly, it gave him the space to interact with other students without appearing unusual (Ryan 2005b). He even stated that he is a ‘chameleon’ behind the bar:

‘Me’ behind the bar is very different than ‘me’ outside the bar. When you work behind the bar, you take on this persona like ‘I am the man!’ ‘He serves the beer so he is the man!’ It just gives you full permission to join-in any conversation in the room, talk to anybody in the room, and it is like being pissed but not being pissed, if you get my drift.

Respondents had varied experiences in negotiating university public spaces such as fresher's week and student pubs. Despite what has been said in some literature about people with AS being hypersensitive (e.g. Smith Myles 2000, Bogdashina 2001, 2003, Dunn et al. 2002, Attwood 2006), there is evidence in this study to suggest that not all people with AS have sensitivity impairments. For instance, three respondents who engaged in fresher's week activities and enlisted themselves into student societies did so without any indication of difficulty. While giving credence to the argument that the AS condition is diverse and multifaceted (Baranek 2002, Bogdashina 2006), the evidence also suggests that care and consideration must be given to students with AS who disclose their hypersensitivities. For Mark, fresher's week and the pub were inaccessible. These inaccessible spaces shrunk his social world resulting in limited opportunities to interact with peers. This impacts his self-identity as he was aware of his isolation to the extent of identifying himself as a ‘glutton for punishment’ for being a university student. Perhaps, if there were more inclusive, accessible spaces which minimise risks of triggering one's hypersensitivities within HE institutions, then a person like Mark would have increased opportunities to socially engage in university life.

Libraries

The diverse experiences of fresher's week and pubs were also reflected in respondents' negotiation of libraries. University libraries were cited by half of respondents to be inaccessible places to study at times. Alan found his university library accessible only in the evening:

I hate the library! I hate it! There is too many people! That's why I go down there in the evening when it is quieter. Find out when there are quiet times in the library. I hate loads of people around me.

The crowds and the noise levels of libraries were commented upon by a few others. Cathy found it difficult to find a quiet place to work in her library during the day because of the ‘noise level’ because ‘most of the time, it can get really busy’. Len commented about the noise level of his library as ‘it was a bit distracting working … with so many people everywhere’. He is pleased that he receives disabled student support provision provided by his local education authority which reimburses his book purchases. This means he does ‘not have to go to the library to use books and stuff like that.’ The noise of people was not the only type of noise respondents discussed. Lisa commented that she cannot work in her library ‘because of those stupid computer noises’. She described the noise as an ‘annoying background hum that always distracts you’.

While it may have been inaccessible for some respondents, the library for at least one respondent was seen as a safe space in contrast to the student union bar. Louis saw his library as a space where he can be free from interacting with ‘strange’ students. During one of his first weeks at the institution, he reflected:

Unfortunately, at the time, I did not want to work with any of the other students because they were all strange to me. And, unfortunately, I ended up confining myself to a very dark place in the college library. When I told my mother about it, she was not very happy. She said I should join-in, not hide-out because that is how you do not work properly and not make friends.

Sparked by his mother's comments, he eventually moved to a ‘bigger area of the library where there were people around’ him. Then, he came to a realisation that the library was ‘too quiet’ for him, hindering opportunities for him to interact with other students:

I felt when I was in the library, I know that I like to be quiet, but this was too quiet. I need to be able to talk someone who I may know of already. I much rather prefer working where students are talking around me in a way.

Libraries, of course, in all universities are planned and designed differently. Due to this, respondents will have varying experiences in how they perceive and negotiate library space(s). Some have claimed it to be inaccessible while one respondent saw it as a place of refuge. This diversity in experience represents the diversity of individuals with AS. More importantly, the evidence also suggests that the library may be another place where students with AS may find inaccessible in addition to student unions and pubs. With this in mind, there remains a question about the extent of their university socio-spatiality. With many respondents not being able to enter university spaces due to ‘noise and crowds’, where then do they go? As evidenced above, one respondent found his library a refuge. Where do other students find refuge?

Living space – student accommodation

Over half of respondents (5 out of 8) indicated that they have chosen to exclude themselves from particular spaces at specific times within their universities due to ‘noise and crowds’. The result is that their socio-spatial mobility becomes restricted to the extent that some acquire a sense of safety, free from hypersensitivity anxieties, when they are within their student accommodation.

Being aware that his self-exclusion from student union activities and pubs can lead to feelings of isolation, Mark commented that there is no alternative space to socially interact with his peers:

You are not going to go anywhere. There is no alternative. All I ever do is go back to my room. My speciality in film was British television drama. I just sit there watching DVD after DVD. I lead a very, very dull life you know.

It was even discussed in interview whether or not participating in online communities was worthwhile, as he does not have to leave his room. However, Mark thought participating in online communities, particularly those related to AS, was not worthwhile: ‘I tend to abstain from them. I think because I know my condition so well, a lot of what it is said is just regurgitation of what I already know. So, I don't really gain anything from it.’ His comment challenges the predominant belief amongst practitioners that students with AS are more receptive towards online communities for social interaction (Birnie 2006, also see Davidson 2008).

Another respondent, Len, also recognised his student accommodation as a refuge. This respondent observed his room to be a ‘comfort zone’ in comparison to the library. He associated the latter with crowds and noise and could not work in it because there were ‘so many people around’. He argued he can only read ‘in my room where it is quiet and with my posters around me. I am more relaxed there.’ It is in this comfort zone where he does ‘ninety-percent of his work’, sitting at his computer. Asked why he was able to do more work in his room rather than the nearby library, he responded, ‘It is just more comfortable. It is generally warmer, less noisy.’

While a couple of respondents found their student accommodation to be safe, comforting spaces free from the crowds and noise of university life, there was one respondent who had a contrasting experience. Alan did not see his student accommodation as a refuge. He found it a bit distressing:

I was in this tiny little room, right next to the front room, no front door … so all I heard all night was just BANG BANG BANG, you know. I mean, come on! Cos the doors had automatic closure on them because of fire risks, it was like SLAM! I'm in bed you know, and the lads would be coming back in at like three o'clock in the morning, pissed-up and they'd be shouting and mouthing off and … then you'd hear the security guard come round ********** them lot, I just wasn't getting to sleep until four in the morning and this was like every night. I thought ‘this is ridiculous’. You know, I'm not one of these people who can stand lack of sleep for more than a few days.

Concluding thoughts

Attempting to curtail the risks of a student with AS having to cope with sensory overload in higher education institutions, as Alan found in his student accommodation above, practitioners have offered possible solutions (e.g. Blamires and Gee 2002, Breakey 2006). However, some suggestions offered express tendencies to segregate students with AS rather than getting them socially engaged into student life. For instance, Breakey (2006) suggested that educational institutions should provide alternative spaces for students with AS to limit the risk of sensory overload, like alternative places to eat to avoid noisy places (Breakey 2006, p. 137). While pragmatic, her suggestion raises questions of concern. Not only does her suggestion calls for segregated facilities for students with AS, Breakey leaves unmarked the processes of ableism that are taken-for-granted within university spaces.

Employing a geographic analysis has been useful in highlighting the relationship between ableism and public spaces. The narratives shared by respondents in this paper disrupt everyday conceptions of ‘normal’ university student life. Moreover, they highlight the limited spatial mobilities of disabled people within higher education institutions. While the evidence presented raises awareness of how ‘normal’ spaces discriminates and impacts the lives of people with AS and sensory impairments, it also informs policy and practice of disabled student support provision.

The findings reported here further support existing ideas about AS being linked to sensory impairments (Attwood 1998, 2006, Smith Myles 2000, Bogdashina 2001, 2003, Dunn et al. 2002). At the same time, the findings also support Baranek's (2002) argument that not all individuals with AS may experience sensory discomfort. Considering the diverse aspects of the AS condition, disabled student support practitioners need to constantly work alongside students to tailor for diverse needs. This means regularly reviewing support and welfare of students throughout their time in university. It was apparent in the evidence above that respondents' needs were not sufficiently met by their respective institutions. Taking into account the social isolation issues that many respondents experienced, disability practitioners should make students aware of the counselling support available within their institutions.

While limited to a very small sample size, the findings at least suggest that not having a sensory impairment may be beneficial in engaging socially in university life. However, it would be incorrect to conclude that difficulties some respondents experienced were primarily the result of their impairment effects of AS. Many of these difficulties stem from HE institutions having little success in eradicating disabling barriers and providing a sense of inclusivity for all students. Failure to dismantle barriers was demonstrated in the narratives of over half respondents who identified fresher's week, the local student union pub and the library as inaccessible places. For many students, these places would be springboards for social relationships. Yet for students with hypersensitivities, these places are anxiety-provoking to the point that they excluded themselves from them. One respondent, Mark, was so anxious about his hypersensitivities that his social world was somewhat restricted to watching DVDs alone in his student accommodation. As cited earlier, being alone can be considered a comfort for some individuals with AS (Attwood 2006). However, this respondent recognised that having this place of comfort and safety led him to living a ‘very dull life’, not to mention being at risk of isolation and depression. In some respects, his assessment of his living situation paralleled Imrie's (2001) thoughts on an asylum for ‘people with mental impairments’: ‘… the asylum was (and, for some, still is) a place of domestic refuge or protection from society yet, simultaneously, a place of incarceration and privation’ (Imrie 2001, p. 232). Mark stated earlier that ‘there is no alternative’ from this kind of situation. This respondent, like some of the others, confronted the choice: face-up to sensory overload or face-up to isolation. Under the 2005 DDA Amendment, respondents should not have to face this kind of choice. This specific legislation requires universities to take positive action in eliminating disability discrimination. Moreover, any positive action that a university makes has to involve disabled people in the policy making and implementation to ensure equality of opportunity. With this in mind, no student should be marginalised from university spaces due to their impairment(s). To address this issue, a recommendation derived from this study would be for institutions, specifically disabled student support practitioners, to work with disabled student union representatives in planning alternative ways to engage disabled students in student-led societies. For instance, in addition to having a fresher's fair, students with sensory impairments should have the opportunity to attend a similar event without ‘the noise and the crowds’, or have a choice of having mentoring support or a personal assistant in attending such events.

Having to exclude oneself from certain university spaces due to institutional misrecognition of one's impairment is not reflective of inclusive practice. While Breakey (2006) is right to call on education providers to account for the sensory differences of students with AS, her argument for them to provide less noisy, alternative places to eat is unacceptable. Having segregated eateries, like segregated exam accommodation for disabled students (Waterfield et al. 2006), only reaffirms the ghettoisation of an already excluded group of people. Whether they eat in their accommodation or in a designated dining space, they are still alone and set apart from others. Breakey's contention reflects dominant thinking of disabled student support provision within UK higher education institutions. It is referred here as ‘base-level’ thinking, because having reasonable adjustments like separate exam accommodation is considered minimum provision for disabled students. It is not considered best practice (HEFCE/HEFCW 1999). Achieving best practice will require further exploration and discussion around the everyday geographies of young people with sensory differences. Further exploration may mean gathering a larger sample to examine commonalities and differences in how students with AS negotiate socio-spaces. Moreover, instead of emphasising incidents of bad practice, future work could also highlight examples of good practice – where students with AS have social alternatives to offset the effects of isolation and depression. It is hoped that this paper will contribute, in some way, towards these ends.

Acknowledgements

First of all, I want to say thank you to the two anonymous reviewers who commented on this paper. This article is derived from work funded by the Higher Education Academy. I would like to thank the Academy for their support and commitment to improving the quality of the disabled student experience in the UK. I would also like to express my gratitude to Sheffield Hallam University's Widening Participation Policy Unit and Disabled Student Support Team as well as colleagues Dr Nick Hodge, Dr Nicola Martin and Professor Dan Goodley. Most of all, thanks to the students who participated in the study.