This post was written by John Pagliarulo, ACAS, in honor of Disability Awareness Month.
Dear CAS Community,
As we recognize Disability Awareness Month this October, I wanted to share a personal reflection. One that has reshaped how I approach my work, my advocacy, and my understanding of inclusion within our profession.
I’ve lived with Tourette’s Syndrome for most of my life. I always knew it was there, but I didn’t receive an official diagnosis until my son did. That moment was life-altering. Suddenly, what I had quietly managed for years became something I needed to understand more deeply, not just for myself, but for him.
Before my son was even diagnosed (but while he started developing tics), it became clear that his school had no internal awareness of Tourette’s. No resources. No language. Just confusion and a few well-meaning but misinformed responses. That lack of understanding pushed us to get involved with the Tourette Association of America (TAA). Because of the support from the TAA, my son has returned the favor and has become a Youth Ambassador himself, now educating others and advocating for kids just like him. Watching him step into that role with confidence inspired me to do the same.
For years, I had kept my condition quiet in the workplace. I managed the tics discreetly, absorbed the glances, and fielded the occasional HR memo suggesting I “change desks.” I thought that was the professional thing to do. But my son’s advocacy gave me permission to lead with authenticity. I began speaking on panels at the DiveIn Festival and led a session on Competency Bias in the Workplace at TIC-CON 2025. I stopped apologizing for my tics and started reframing them. They are not distractions, but a part of a broader conversation about inclusion and lived experience.
I used to think that being professional meant being quiet about difference. Now I know that being professional means showing up fully. It means advocating for awareness, not just accommodation. It means helping others feel seen by being willing to be seen myself.
And here’s what I’ve learned: awareness in the workplace makes all the difference. When colleagues understand what Tourette’s is, when managers ask thoughtful questions, when teams embrace difference as part of their strength, everything changes. The discomfort fades. The connection grows. And the work gets better.
Neurodivergence in the actuarial community is probably more prevalent than you think. “Neurodivergent”, the word itself, means having a brain that works a little differently from a typical mind. But it can also mean that some added “superpowers” come out of that. There’s a subsequent propensity for problem-solving, innovative thinking, and attention to detail. Qualities that are paramount to passing those actuarial exams!
So as you go about your job, whether you’re building models, leading teams, or mentoring the next generation of actuaries, carry empathy. Carry knowledge. Carry understanding. Because inclusion isn’t just a policy. It’s a practice. And it starts with each of us.
