Cities can be difficult for neurodivergents with audio sensitivity. But they can also be a neurodivergent's playground!

City life as a neurodivergent is interesting to say the least. And I mean that in both a positive and a negative way. Going into downtown Cincinnati is like a little adventure. It makes me think about that famous quote from Forrest Gump - “Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you’re gonna get”. While that’s certainly true of life in general, especially as a neurodivergent, it especially rings true for city life. No two days are ever exactly the same. Cincinnati is a little city with the attitude of a big one. It kinda reminds of a small dog - a big personality in a small package.

Everything in the downtown part of Cincinnati is loud. The buses are constantly beeping and making hissing noises as they release air to “kneel” closer to the sidewalk. It’s useful for the handicapped people, and I’m glad it’s a feature of modern transportation. But why does it have to be so loud?! Does the bus really need to let out an ear-piercing beep and a giant continuous hiss every time it kneels? Could we maybe turn it down a little so it’s not so grating?

Not to mention the construction crews. When I was walking to my workplace everyday when I worked downtown, there were often construction crews working on the sidewalks or the roads just outside of my building. They were always so noisy - their trucks beeping as they backed up, their materials slamming onto the ground. One day they were working on the sidewalk directly outside of my office. I could feel the ground vibrating as they pounded a jackhammer into it. It was so loud I could hardly hear myself think, much less the phone or our customers. Every time they stopped the jackhammer I hoped that was the last time they would need to use it. But it just kept going for hours! I thought about grabbing my noise-cancelling headphones, but I needed to answer the phone as part of my job, so I couldn’t. I swear that day I almost went insane. If I hadn’t had online friends I could reach out to while I was stuck in the situation, I think I might’ve had a meltdown.

Even everyday sounds seem louder in the city. Sirens from emergency vehicles squeal louder in cities than they do in towns or in the countryside. Nature itself seems louder downtown. I stopped at the downtown library to return a book on my way to work one stormy morning. Just as I’d closed the drawer for the book deposit, there was a deafening clap of thunder. My heart stopped for a moment. I almost thought a bomb had just gone off. It was scary stepping out from under the awning afterwards. If that clap of thunder had been that loud, that meant it was close. Who’s to say it wouldn’t happen again? What if a bolt struck me next? But thankfully, the storm seemed to let its anger out with only that one burst.

I think I know why cities seem to be louder than other places. With so many towers around, there’s a lot of hard surfaces for sound to bounce off of. I bet if you were loud enough, your voice could echo down the street for miles, like if you’d shouted in a cave. Still, sometimes I wish I had a magic knob that I could turn to lower the volume of the city. Or a switch on my head I could flip to turn off my hearing for a while. I don’t know how anyone puts up with it day in and day out, especially the animals. As sharp as my ears are, theirs are even sharper. Sounds that hurt for me must be agonizing for them! I feel especially for the birds. Imagine how it must feel not being able to hear yourself sing.

That being said, I don’t think city life is absolutely horrible. Not everything in Cincinnati is loud. When I was working downtown, I decided to take a walk to Washington Park to eat my lunch one day. It was a beautiful sunny day with not a cloud in the sky. As I soaked up the sun’s rays, all of the frustration I felt about my job and my coworkers seemed to fall away like sand in an hourglass. The quiet of the park was like a breath of fresh air from the hustle and bustle of the rest of the city. It was refreshing seeing trees and people walking their dogs instead of computer screens. I love little moments of stillness and tranquility like this. It helps me reset my mind and align with my soul. I remember that good and beautiful things still exist in this world, and they always have and always will. Love, joy and hope are eternal, and can never be destroyed. Remembering that universal truth gives me the strength to carry on through whatever I’m going through, even a terrible job. And as I walked back to my workplace, I discovered there was a cookie shop within walking distance of my job! I thought about stopping to grab a treat, but I didn’t want to be late getting back to work.

Downtown life also introduces you to all kinds of interesting animals. At my job, one of my duties was to watch the feed from the camera by the front door so I could unlock it when someone came in for an appointment. That meant I could see people walking by our building. One of my favorite people to observe was a person (I can’t remember if it was a man or a woman) who walked their corgi by our building every morning. I loved seeing that dog toddle on by on its little legs, he always seemed so happy. Smiling as he walked, ears pointed straight up to the sky. It was especially cute seeing him in his little green raincoat when the weather was bad. I always wondered what that dog’s name was. And when I walked to work in the morning, there was always a flock of pigeons and sparrows just outside the downtown library. One of the pigeons I noticed had splotches of white mixed in with its darker feathers. I wondered how that was possible. And I found it impressive how the pigeons and the sparrows were able to coexist peacefully with each other despite their differences. I wish people could be more like that.

Speaking of people, there’s all kinds of interesting people that I ran into in downtown Cincinnati. One day as I was walking to work, a man looked me in the eyes and told me “They took my whole world from me when they took my kids away”. It still makes me curious why he felt the need to tell me, a complete stranger, something like this. Maybe the weight of this information was so heavy and painful that he had to tell someone, and I just happened to be the first person to acknowledge him in a while. I’ve found that sharing your problems with others makes it easier to carry them or even find a solution. I also remember this homeless couple that was always sitting outside of the Contemporary Arts Center in the mornings near my bus stop. I gave them a dollar whenever I had cash on me and they were always so thankful. I never learned their names, but I found it inspiring how, despite their circumstances, they stayed faithful to each other and faced the struggles of homelessness together. In wedding vows, the bride and groom often promise to remain faithful to each other “for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, as long as we both shall live”. This couple lived up to that promise for each other. I hope I find a love like that someday.

But what I love most about city life is the culture and unique identity of the city. In Cincinnati, there’s a nonprofit called ArtWorks, and one of the things they do is paint murals on buildings, walls and other structures to give the city more charm. One of the murals was just outside of my office. It depicted a kraken attacking a ship in the midst of a storm. It was a beautiful painting for people to glance at as they walked by, but if you really stopped to look at like I did, the detail of it was amazing. There were individual panes on the windows of the ship and suckers on the tentacles of the kraken. The crashing waves were made of black, green and blue in various shades, topped with splotches of white that actually looked like real foam. They perfectly captured what a crashing wave looks like. Staring at this mural, I could almost hear the sea churning and the ship groaning as it frightened crew shouted, desperately trying to shake off the monster. I wonder who came up with the idea for the mural, and why that spot. There was nothing resembling the sea or ships in that area. Maybe because we were near where the canal once was? But then why not make a mural about a canal?

There’s more to Cincinnati’s culture and identity than just art. Food is also a large aspect of it. Within walking distance from where I worked, not only could you find a Skyline Chili restaurant, but also restaurants serving Asian, Indian, Hawaiian, and Italian cuisine, as well as an open air restaurant that grilled sausages and burgers during the warm seasons. Walk a bit in one direction, and you could find a New York style pizza place. In another direction, a casual sit-down reminiscent of a 50’s diner. And in another, a mock British pub. And on what would be my last day in that job, a crew was setting up just down the road for the Asian Street Food Festival. It was nice getting to eat a variety of foods so that I could have one of my comfort foods when I needed it, or try something new when I felt adventurous. Though I did make the mistake of eating a curry that was so spicy it made my lips burn and my nose run.

Cities like Cincinnati truly are fascinating places and perfect for neurodivergents. The unique mixture of ever-changing and developing aspects with the familiarity of permanent fixtures satisfies both sides of the mind. And with so much to see, do and discover, a neurodivergent person is bound to find something that relates to their special interests. I truly believe if cities weren’t so loud and overstimulating, they would be the perfect environments for neurodivergent communities.