Best known for her role as Lady Danbury in Bridgerton, actor Adjoa Andoh is open about living with dyspraxia. She realised she had the condition when her eldest daughter, Jesse, was diagnosed as a toddler, in the late 1980s. Here, she shares her experiences and joins our calls for an occupational therapist (OT) in every school.
I have seen first-hand the life-changing power of occupational therapy. When my daughter, Jesse, was a toddler, a PhD student working in her nursery spotted that she had some signs of dyspraxia. After this, Jesse had a full assessment for dyspraxia and the results were off the charts. I was baffled because, to me, Jesse was developing in a perfectly normal way. She was developing much as I had developed.
Similarities between Jesse and I
Although she started speaking at nine months, she didn’t walk until 18 months – she just did a lot of bum shuffling. She didn’t learn to ride a bike until she was 14. She’s a fantastic cyclist now and regularly goes on long bike rides with her family.
It was an incredibly similar pattern to me at the same age, so I didn’t think there was anything unusual about it. The diagnosis was a revelation to me. There was an actual name for it. There were interventions that could support my child with this new condition I was hearing of for the first time.
It made so much sense and explained so many of the things I’d struggled with growing up. I wasn’t just a clumsy child who couldn’t roller-skate, ice-skate or ride a bike. Or a dreamy, unfocused child who struggled to concentrate in lessons. I was – and am – dyspraxic.
I’ve never been officially diagnosed – so I never had any support. Jesse was lucky: she had occupational therapy and physiotherapy through the NHS for 13 years. It helped her immensely.
Occupational therapy support
She did activities like balancing on a BOSU ball, throwing and catching with one hand, and practising letter formation. It made a big difference and showed her that, with support, she would be able to do most things.
There was an early occupational therapy session where Jesse was put on a swing. It was a square swing that was attached at four corners. Jesse just went flat and was holding onto the edges. She was really scared. She'd been fine on regular baby swings, so I was really shocked at her response. I realised you can’t always understand what's going on. There’s a level of anxiety and lack of confidence and control that’s bubbling away all the time when you have dyspraxia.
That swing became a marker of Jesse's progression for me: when she was confident on it; when she could sit on it without being flat and clinging onto it. These sorts of developments were so helpful to see, even within the first year of occupational therapy.
Learning to live with dyspraxia
One of the things we’ve both noticed about living with dyspraxia is the importance of practice and repetition. For me as an actor, I repeat, repeat, repeat everything using props. I have to get my props early. I have to have big discussions about the height of heels I can wear.
If I'm on stage and there's a slope, I have to practise walking on it. I have to practise with lights and in darkness. I may need to hold a walking stick, as I do in Bridgerton. With experience, I’m now able to say, ‘these are the things I need to be able to do my job. I’m not trying to be difficult.’ You’re constantly having to educate people, and some people might not have the confidence to do that.
As someone with dyspraxia, you always need to find different ways of doing things. You have to be good at problem-solving and build skills over time. This is where occupational therapists are incredibly helpful – they help us with that problem-solving.
I'm unbelievably grateful to the NHS and that PhD student for the intervention because it made such a difference to Jesse. It helped us understand why things were happening, and we had people asking us, ‘What do we need to put in place in your daily life to try and make things more straightforward for you?’
Dyspraxia interventions now
Things have gone backwards now. I recently spoke to two girls with dyspraxia for The One Show. One girl waited eight years for a diagnosis and then got six weeks’ support. The other girl is still waiting for a formal diagnosis.
When Jesse was little, I had a lot of communication with her occupational therapist and her school so that, when she needed it, teachers could adjust lessons, give her more support or give her extra time for exams. This is the absolute minimum of what schools should be doing for children with dyspraxia or other types of neurodivergence.
Early intervention is key. It can help pupils, as well as their parents or carers and teachers understand what their children need, and how to support them so that they can achieve what they want to.
In many ways, the support that’s available for neurodivergent children now isn’t as good as it was in 1988. Children shouldn’t still be struggling in school if they have dyspraxia – or any other neurodivergent diagnosis.