Sharn Davidson's journey with Tourette syndrome is not just a personal challenge; it's a mission to cultivate understanding and kindness in those around her. Living with this neurological condition, characterized by involuntary movements and vocal sounds known as tics, she has learned to embrace her unique expression of tics, which manifest as playful dinosaur roars.
"They definitely have their own distinct sounds. One is high-pitched and quite screechy, while the other has a more raptor-like quality," Ms. Davidson explains. This Perth-based high school teacher and mother of three finds joy in her tics, which her students and children find amusing rather than troubling. In fact, they’ve given her tics names: "Kevin" and "Terry."
"My Year 12 students named Kevin, while my kids chose the name Terry," she shares with a smile. It's Kevin, the more vocal one, that tends to make an appearance most frequently. "He’s particularly loud and boisterous," Ms. Davidson notes, showcasing her ability to find humor and light-heartedness in her situation.
Interestingly, trauma can serve as a catalyst for tics. As a child, Ms. Davidson experienced mild tics occasionally, about once a month, without realizing she had Tourette's. However, after enduring a harrowing event on a freeway at the age of 21, where she witnessed a woman attempting to end her life, her tics escalated dramatically to over 100 occurrences each day.
"It was a really random and profound moment for me. Thankfully, the woman was saved, but it triggered a significant change in my body," she recalls. Following this life-altering experience, it took five long years and numerous consultations before a doctor finally diagnosed her with Tourette's syndrome. "I visited several doctors before I met one who said, ‘Don’t worry, it’s just Tourette’s,’" she remembers, feeling a sense of relief at finally having a name for what she lived with.
Through her experiences, Sharn has recognized that stress is a major trigger for her tics, often surfacing in situations where they are least appropriate—like during exams or in quiet libraries.
At a recent road safety workshop attended by her children and 40 others, Sharn demonstrated her skill in managing her condition when a roar unexpectedly escaped her lips. Unfazed, she confidently explained, "I have Tourette's; I make dinosaur noises, sorry," allowing the workshop to proceed smoothly without any awkwardness.
In her classroom, Sharn employs her tics as an educational tool to foster awareness and acceptance of diversity. "Though I could take medication for my condition, I don’t feel it’s necessary," she states. "By turning my differences into something fun and non-disruptive, I find that others adopt a similar attitude. I consider myself fortunate to have a relatively mild form of Tourette's."
Moreover, she takes pride in being a role model for her students, some of whom also have been diagnosed with Tourette syndrome. While she doesn’t delve into her traumatic experiences, she offers them reassurance that it’s okay to be different. "It’s not something to be ashamed of; it’s part of who I am," she emphasizes.
To celebrate her connection with her tics, Sharn has even tattooed images of her beloved dinosaurs, Kevin and Terry, on her arms, symbolizing her acceptance and love for her unique journey.