Seeing differently: how autism and music reframe the power of storytelling and inclusion

By Nina Harrison-Bell
World Autism Awareness Month may have ended in April, but the conversations it sparked around meaningful inclusion are far from over. For many organisations, it served as a moment to reflect — not just on raising awareness, but on taking real, lasting action. And that work continues every day.
I spoke with classical pianist and author William Theviot, whose lived experience of autism transforms how we understand creativity, expression, and the need for more radical inclusion in the arts and beyond.
Through his music, William tells stories that challenge, uplift, and reveal perspectives too often silenced. His reflections offer a vital lens not only on neurodiversity but also on how embracing difference can enrich how organisations think, hire, and communicate.
“Businesses are crying out for third-way thinking,” says Gabriel Herman, a neurodiversity advocate and co-founder of the CIC Aspierations. “Autistic individuals often say the unthinkable — and sometimes, that’s exactly the insight a business needs to move forward.”
A storyteller between worlds
William describes himself as a “pilgrim” between two seemingly distant mountains: neurodiversity and the performing arts. Born with what is often referred to as Asperger’s autism, music became his first language and an intuitive form of expression when words felt unreachable.
“I was a shy child,” he says. “But when I heard others playing more advanced pieces, I thought, ‘When I can do that, I’ll be understood.'”

For William, music wasn’t only artistic, it was survival and a way to soothe anxiety, navigate unspoken thoughts, and eventually, a form of advocacy.
Playing the unsung
William’s repertoire focuses on forgotten composers — his way of telling stories that history overlooked.
“They remind me of people with disabilities,” he says. “Skilled, rich in expression, but often ignored. Playing their music is a kind of therapy and resistance.”
These neglected artists — like William Herschel or William Vincent Wallace — mirror the multidimensional nature of identity. The richness, he suggests, often lies at the margins.
Inclusion, performance and perception
William’s journey in the classical music world has been both inspiring and isolating. While some moments have shown a genuine willingness to engage with neurodiversity, others have exposed how far we still need to go to achieve full inclusion and acceptance.
“A producer once shut me down completely, refusing to even hear my story,” he recalls. “It felt like a door slammed shut.”
Inclusion, William believes, must go deeper than campaigns or checklists. According to the UK Musicians’ Union, 88% of disabled musicians report experiencing discrimination. The same systemic gaps are reflected in workplaces across industries.
Gabriel Herman sees the same pattern in business:
“Autistic people are the least likely disabled group in the UK to be employed,” he explains. “It’s not because they can’t contribute, it’s because neither side knows how to bridge the gap.”
To address this, Gabriel founded Aspierations, a social enterprise helping autistic individuals and employers build genuine, sustainable partnerships. Their digital platform Steevie.org supports autistic jobseekers with CV writing, personal statements, and employment rights, all in a format designed with accessibility in mind.

“It’s a one-stop shop,” Gabriel adds, “especially for people who may be struggling to access traditional services. And what helps autistic people—plain language, clarity, and psychological safety—helps everyone.”
Bring a new perspective
William’s story offers a deeper insight into the value of difference in creativity and culture. Neurodivergent minds often break from convention and connect more deeply with emotion, authenticity, and imagination.
“It’s not a deficit,” he says. “It’s a strength.”
In a world where storytelling shapes brand trust, workplace culture and innovation, listening differently can help us lead differently.
As we head into June, let’s not lose the momentum sparked in April. Let’s take the time to ask: What are we missing when we overlook those who see the world differently? And what could we build if we truly listened to the stories, skills, and perspectives yet to be heard?





