How can we make the world a more sensory inclusive place?

The blinding flash of fluorescent lights, the sound of a mechanical scrubber buffing off layers of plaque, the minty burn of a mouthwash rinse — each of these are sensory experiences that can be off-putting for even the most relaxed visitor to the dentist’s office. But for an individual with sensory sensitivities, these, and other healthcare-related sensory stimuli, can be reasons to avoid medical spaces altogether. 

Sensory sensitivity, also referred to as sensory processing sensitivity, or SPS, is often a comorbidity to forms of neurodivergence, like autism spectrum disorder (ASD) or attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD). What might be a tolerable change in light, sound, touch, smell, taste, movement, balance, and interoception (internal body awareness) for most people can become an overwhelming — or downright painful — experience for an individual with sensory sensitivities. 

Despite evidence that roughly 1 in 4 individuals have a sensory need or an invisible disability, most of the world — from schools to recreational spaces to offices to healthcare spaces — is not designed with these sensitivities in mind. As Virginia Spielmann, PhD, an occupational therapist at the Star Institute for Sensory Processing, puts it, “There is a belief that there is one right way to be human. Instead of helping these humans belong, we ask them to adapt in the hopes that one day they maybe can belong.” 

Fortunately, a movement of doctors, activists, corporations, and community members around the world are working to change beliefs around sensory sensitivity and other forms of neurodivergence at a systemic level. They’re shifting the narrative from one rooted in deficiencies or shortcomings towards one of acceptance and the embrace of differences. 

But changing this narrative also requires work and reflection at a more individual scale. “We’ve accepted the myth that there’s one right way to be human — the neurotypical way — and it’s to our detriment,” said Dr. Spielmann. “I think the narrative needs to move from sensory inclusive spaces being the exception to them being the norm. These are spaces that prioritize the embodied human experience and the wellness of our nervous systems and our connection to each other over economic gain and moving people through our healthcare systems as fast as possible.”

Dr. Spielmann sees the shift towards sensory sensitivity as a fundamentally additive movement that raises the standard of living for everyone. “Universal design should be sensory design,” she said. For example, ramps into the building can be used by everyone. Dimmed fluorescent lighting and reduced volume creates a more hospitable environment for everyone. “When a building accommodates sensory differences, you are going to have more success, greater productivity, less burnout, less stress for everyone,” she said.  

By creating and advocating for more sensory sensitive environments, these changemakers are creating a more inclusive world for everyone. Meet some of the individuals on the front lines of this paradigm shift, some of whom appear in the documentary Sensory Overload.

The Community Builder

Lola Olley has always looked to her community for support. It was true when her family immigrated to the states from Nigeria when she was young, and it was particularly true when it became clear that there was something different about her brother Kunle’s development. “One day he just stopped talking and we would never hear his voice again,” she said. 

Olley remembers seeing the way her parents struggled to raise a child in a time when resources for neurodivergence and sensory sensitivities were few and far between. She was witnessing firsthand what research reinforces — that caregiver strain is often linked to financial strain, family conflict, loss of a sense of freedom, and negative effects on personal health. “There’s this Nigerian song called ‘Suffering and Smiling,’” she said, ”and that’s what I felt like my parents were going through. They were in pursuit of this American dream, and suddenly they had a child who had this level of healthcare related needs that they weren’t expecting, so their American dream suddenly looked a lot different.” 

When her own children, Alero, 11, and Fela, 13, started displaying neurodivergent and sensory sensitive symptoms, Olley intuited what other studies seem to confirm: It would be crucial for her own well-being as a caregiver to children with special needs to surround herself with supportive community. “We decided to put together a life group where at least one family member was neurodivergent,” she said. “[It’s] a group of people that just really understood. And we truly do life together.”

This network of supportive, similarly experienced friends and caregivers have been instrumental in building a healthy, sustainable existence for Olley and her family. And it’s a collective that extends beyond their inner circle. “We looked into special education, adaptive parks and rec, library systems and hospital systems,” she said. “We had to look at what it meant to raise children in an inclusive way. We settled on Plano, Texas.” 

Olley is determined to help build inclusive communities not just for her own children, but also for all children with sensitivities — and for the caregivers supporting them. It’s work that she undertakes as a lawyer, advising on behalf of the Americans With Disabilities Act. It also takes shape in her advocacy as a storyteller, sharing her family’s neurodivergent journey on her Not Your Mama’s Autism podcast. 

“Not that long ago, these sensitivities were viewed as there being something wrong with that individual,” Olley said. “Not that this is literally how they were born, how their body works, how their mind works. I wish my brother had that. Kunle is the blueprint. I try to make a world for my children where they have those resources that their uncle and their grandparents [could] only dream of.”

The Dentist On a Mission

Jacob Dent, DDS, didn’t graduate from dental school with an eye towards building a sensory sensitive practice. Even if it had been a goal, he wouldn’t have been prepared. “When I left dental school, I had zero training on special needs,” he said. “We were given the mindset in dental school that if there is a special needs patient that comes into your practice . . . basically, it’s not your problem.” Dr. Dent’s experience wasn’t unique. Studies show that only 50% of dentists feel well equipped to understand the individual sensory needs of their patients, and just 8% of dentists actually have a formal process in place for providing sensory sensitive accommodations.

It wasn’t until Dr. Dent’s son, Ethan, started displaying symptoms of autism spectrum disorder (ASD) as a toddler that Dr. Dent started realizing the ways his practice — and the world at large — wasn’t doing enough to meet the needs of individuals with sensory sensitivities. Ever since, he’s been part of a growing wave of healthcare professionals who have been reimagining their practices to be more sensory sensitive. “My role as a dentist and a dad in the world of special needs has kind of been on a parallel path,” he said. “I’ve been learning everything I can about my own son and then applying that to my patients.”

Practically, Dr. Dent’s work begins long before a patient reaches his chair. It’s about understanding that patients with sensitivities may require several appointments to work up the comfort to complete a single aspect of a dentistry check-up: an exam, a cleaning, or an X-ray. Even the experience of spending time in a crowded waiting room can be overwhelming for individuals with sensory sensitivities, which is why Dr. Dent offers sensory friendly hours with fewer patients (and a correspondingly calmer environment). 

In the exam room itself, Dr. Dent has made modifications to his lighting and design, opting for warmer bulbs and calming wall colors. If a patient has sensitivities to sound, he’ll offer headphones, and sunglasses for those with visual sensitivities. Finally, he works with caretakers to offer best practices for continuing sensory sensitive oral healthcare regimens at home. 

Today, Dr. Dent has become one of the go-to sensory inclusive practitioners in the Greater Louisiana area. Given the dearth of sensory sensitive dentists in the country, it’s not uncommon for Dr. Dent’s patients to travel up to three hours to see him. In order to ensure that even those outside of driving distance can get what they need, Dr. Dent and his family have begun mailing oral healthcare kits filled with sensory sensitive  implements (many of his own design) to patients around the country. 

Dr. Dent also realizes that making systemic change requires a broader, fundamental shift in his industry. “Whether it’s medicine or dentistry, there’s got to be an alternative way than the standard way of practicing,” he said. “As a parent and as a dentist, I can show other providers how to do that and open up the doors to so many more possibilities.”

The Student Activist

Increasingly, a new generation of activists are taking up the mantle for the sensory sensitive community. But for many of them, who are members of the neurodivergent and sensory sensitive communities themselves, this leadership role was hard earned. 

Sixteen-year-old Sophie Yang remembers first feeling a minor irritation to everyday sounds — chewing and slurping, finger tapping, the vacuum cleaner — about four years ago. And it just kept getting worse. Gradually, Sophie began isolating herself from friends and family, hoping to avoid auditory triggers that would lead to anger and anxiety. “I noticed as time went on when I had dinner or lunch with my parents, I began to get irritated and I would ask them to stop chewing so loud,” she said. “And eventually it gave me such severe reactions that I had to tell them something was wrong.”

Her parents, who initially labeled her as difficult, quickly realized that this was something serious. Many trips to multiple doctors later, they discovered that Sophie had misophonia — a chronic auditory sensory sensitivity that causes people to have an extreme emotional reaction to specific sounds.

The past few years since her diagnosis have been all about adaptation: learning which environments to avoid, how to set herself up for academic success, and how to maintain relationships with friends and family. This is not an insignificant challenge as a teenager, a time of life that can be inherently messy, busy, and noisy. “It’s definitely affected my home life because my family dynamic really revolves around quality time,” Yang said. ”With certain friends, I found myself getting angry eating around them. In school it’s usually the biggest issue when I’m taking tests or when the classroom is quiet because people are making all sorts of bodily noises and it’s really triggering.”  

Once she started digging into treatment and coping strategies, Yang realized how little was understood about misophonia. She took it upon herself to fill in those gaps, and created a platform to share all that she’s learned called Teens for Education and Advocacy on Misophonia (or TEAM for short). Since launching TEAM last April, Yang has already gotten her work in front of lawmakers, meeting with California Congresswoman Young Kim in June of 2024. They discussed possible solutions specifically in schools, such as how to make 504 plans more accessible for those in need. 

But Yang isn’t just content merely addressing the symptoms of misophonia — she’s on a mission to truly understand the condition that may affect nearly 20% of adults. To do so, Sophie has regular conversations with doctors and holistic healers and psychologists of all stripes. “A lot of the medical research doesn’t focus on the root cause, just the symptoms. I want to learn more,” she said. “For myself and for others.”

The Sensory Sensitive Worker

Burnett Grant has been fortunate to be among the 21% of persons 16 years and over with disabilities who have managed to find employment for much of their adulthood. But it hasn’t been easy. The self-described, “agender, non-binary, autistic neurodivergent individual with ADHD” has always found most environments fraught on both interpersonal and sensory levels. They’re prone to missing social cues and feeling overstimulated and overwhelmed. “I’ve only had two full-time jobs where I felt safe,” they said. ”For the most part, I’ve been bullied out of workplaces.” 

The safest Grant feels is with their identical twin sibling, Bernard, who shares their sensory sensitivities and neurodivergence, and who understands that these aren’t shortcomings, just realities. “I realized it’s just so much easier to have someone validate my experiences, so Bernard and I often go places together,” Grant said. “We seem to use less energy that way, and going out is so exhausting anyway.” 

But life necessitates that they aren’t each other’s only company. Fortunately, in recent years, the two of them have discovered a whole new community of like-minded individuals in a sensory safe online environment — people with similar sensitivities and an understanding of their accompanying challenges.

Studies show that online communities are important sources of social support and interaction for neurodivergent people, evidenced in the popularity of online neurodivergence and sensory sensitive communities. For Grant and their twin, these digital communities have also become spaces for advocacy. “I started volunteering at an organization that was mostly creating online events where neurodivergent people would come speak and share stories about their experiences in the workplace,” said Grant. 

Both online and in their place of employment, Grant is working to raise awareness around neurodivergence, and pushing for improved sensory accommodations in the workplace, which have been shown to meaningfully help individuals with sensory sensitivities avoid professional burnout. Grant is advocating for things like providing noise-canceling headphones, quiet spaces, or adjusting lighting to reduce glare, allowing flexible work hours or remote work options to avoid peak activity times, using written instructions, optical aids, or checklists to help with processing and paying attention to details, creating a fragrance-free environment, allowing employees to wear comfortable clothing that accommodates tactile sensitivities, providing ergonomic furniture, and crucially, fostering understanding and empathy among colleagues by creating awareness about sensory sensitivities in the workplace. 

Recently, Grant has found reasons for cautious optimism — evidence of what’s possible when workplaces not only accommodate their sensitivities, but celebrate them. They’ve started working in quality assurance in a food manufacturing plant, a role that employs their heightened sensory sensitivities to provide detailed taste profiles. “This is the most inclusive, easiest work environment I’ve been a part of,” they said. “There’s diversity and a sense of belonging seems to be built in.”

Sensodyne has launched the Sensory Inclusion Initiative to raise awareness of the importance of sensory inclusivity in oral care. To support this mission, Sensodyne has partnered with Vox Creative on the release of the documentary, Sensory Overload. To further its impact, Sensodyne has partnered with the American Dental Association and sensory accessibility non-profit Kulture City to develop training and resources for dentists and patients to improve oral health outcomes for those with sensory sensitivities. Learn more here.