Traci Neal is a neurodivergent poet, spoken word artist, and advocate living in Columbia, South Carolina. Clinically diagnosed with autism and ADHD as an adult, Traci brings both vulnerability and courage to her work. She holds a bachelor’s degree in English from the University of South Carolina and a master’s degree in Educational Studies from the University of Phoenix. Her writing has been featured in The New York Times, Newsweek, the Mahogany Hallmark Writing Community, The Art of Autism, and many other publications. A multi–award-winning poet since 2021, she uses her platform to advocate for nonprofits worldwide and to amplify marginalized voices. Through poetry, service, and faith, Traci seeks to help others feel seen, valued, and known. You can learn more about Traci by going to her website www.tracinealspeakerpoet.com
In this conversation—which is bursting with a catchy and enthusiastic joy—Traci reflects on neurodivergence, faith, obedience, sacrifice, and the quiet power of kindness, not only as they shape her creative life, but her whole life. Late-diagnosed autistic, Traci brings both vulnerability and courage to her story, one shaped by deep trust in God and a fierce commitment to serving others. Like her smile, her words and insights are beautiful. From poetry and advocacy to mentorship and daily spiritual practices, this interview sheds light on the importance of listening, obedience, and a willingness to be “given,” not just gifted.
Radix: Traci, thank you so very much for being willing to share your story—your wonder, your creativity, your joy. I’m a bit of a Chesterton nerd, so I love the themes of surprise, gratitude, and wonder, and you embody that so beautifully. I’m grateful that you’re willing to share about your experience with neurodivergence, as well as your life as a poet and creative. To start with the basics, could you tell us a little about yourself and how you came to where you are now?
Traci Neal: This definitely wasn’t planned. I was actually trying to become a certified elementary school teacher, following in my father’s footsteps. He taught at the same school for over forty years, and we were both good with young people, so I thought, “Well, I guess I’ll do that.”
Even though I’d wanted to write since I was five, my parents meant well and encouraged me to pursue something more stable. So I chose teaching—but it never quite happened. During the pandemic, I finally found the courage to pursue writing more seriously. I transitioned out of my job as a preschool assistant and began stepping into media. With my autism, I have what I call a childlike mindset—fearless in many ways. I tend to think, “Just go for it. You never know.” I’d always known I was different, but being late-diagnosed really helped me understand why I was different.
When I took that leap of faith, I decided to try radio. I started in media through radio, and then I tried other avenues—magazines, podcasts, television—just seeing where I could get my foot in the door. I was also on social media with my poetry for about a year. I stepped away in October of 2021, right before I found out my business had been trademarked. It was actually a really good transition. I learned so much about connections, putting yourself out there, and talking with people.
I’m big on direct communication. I like to be my own voice. I’ll talk to people and ask for advice, especially from those who are already doing what I want to do. Some of my mentors were pretty tough. My website looks nothing like it did when I first started, but the people in my life at the time pushed me to think bigger and raise my expectations. I’m very thankful for them—even though it was tough, they made me better. I think they saw something in me before I could see it in myself.
Radix: In terms of poetry, if someone looks you up and sees “Traci Neal, poet, creative,” they might assume you’ve always had that interest. You mentioned wanting to write since you were five. Was poetry something you consistently practiced while you were growing up?
TN: Yes, it was. I wrote quite a bit as a teenager, and that’s when I began pursuing poetry more seriously. When I was 13, my seventh-grade teacher had us create a poetry collection for the entire year. That exposure helped confirm for me that this was something I truly wanted to do.
But what really sealed it was my mother. She took me to my first open mic at the South Carolina Book Festival—this was years ago, and the festival no longer exists. At the time, I was the youngest person there. I was 14, surrounded by college students, professors, and adults. I brought my poems in a folder, and my mom encouraged me to go up and read one. I didn’t just read—I performed. Afterward she said, “You’ve got something. You’ve got it.” I’ll always be grateful to her for that. And she’s a writer too.
Radix: When I looked through your publication history, what struck me is the sheer number of your published pieces. It’s one thing to have a few poems published, but you have an abundance of titles.
TN: There is! But you know, when it comes to actual publishing, there’s so much information out there about how to get published—do this, do that—but for me, it’s always about evidence. Things change all the time. So if someone tells me, “This is the way to do it,” I want to know: where’s the proof that it actually works?
By having all those publications, people become naturally curious about how I did it. I won’t deny that it was work—but the method I used works. And the information I learned, that God gave me, isn’t just for writers. Anyone can use it for their own success, in business or entrepreneurship. That’s why I say it’s not just boxed into one category—it applies broadly. But people can find out about that on my website.
Radix: We’ll be sure to include links to your website so people can explore more of your work.
As you know, within Christianity, conversations about mental health might have been slower to develop, but thankfully there’s much more awareness now. From your own perspective—especially with ADHD and autism, which are terms people often use loosely—how do you personally identify?
TN: I identify as neurodivergent, and I don’t hesitate to share what my neurodivergence is. I’m not ashamed of it.
Radix: When you’re talking with Christian friends, or when you’re in church settings, what are some things you wish people better understood about you—things you often feel they don’t quite grasp?
TN: You really cannot look at someone and tell what they have or what their differences are. As I shared before we started, in the Black community, when you mention autism and ADHD, there’s often a negative stigma attached to it, unless you’re in the “gifted” category.
For me, I’m not ashamed to say that I’m level two on the spectrum. That shocks a lot of people. And I’m also considered nonverbal in a broader sense. Some people think “nonverbal” just means not talking at all, but it’s actually much wider than that. For me, I have difficulty explaining things verbally, so I express a lot through my face. You can read a lot from my facial expressions.
When I worked with kids, they knew my expressions very well. They could tell when I went from happy to serious. They picked up on that quickly. And now, it’s been helpful for me to simply accept that this is how I communicate. I’m not always able to explain everything with words, so I ask a lot of questions.
When you think of a child who asks many questions—that’s me. That’s how my mind works. And because of that, I’m never annoyed when young people ask questions. I ask questions myself. If there’s something I don’t know, I’m not ashamed to say, even as an adult, “I don’t know. Let’s find out together. Let’s research it. Let’s learn together. Let’s grow together.” I think that’s one of the things the youth appreciated most about me—that I wasn’t ashamed to admit when I didn’t know something, and that I was willing to grow alongside them.
Radix: That really does connect with humility. In Christianity, humility is such a core virtue: this idea that even an all-powerful God values humility deeply. Saying “I don’t know” is actually a sign of humility. It opens the door to learning. People who are willing to say that often end up knowing more in the long run.
TN: I love how you said that. For me, my faith constantly reminds me that I need God—and that’s the beauty of it. I want people to know that when you truly realize you need God, it changes your life. It impacts everything, and it does so for the better.
Before I understood my neurodivergence, I tried to navigate life on my own, acting like, “I’ve got this. I can handle this.” But the truth is, sometimes it is too much. And it’s okay to say that. It’s okay to ask for help. It’s okay to admit that something is overwhelming. That shift has been incredibly healthy for me—for my well-being, for my clarity of mind. You have to know what you can handle and what you can’t. And when you can’t, it’s okay to ask for help, to seek the Lord. That process brings peace. And you truly cannot pay for peace.
Radix: Ah! Right. Good point.
TN: Right? You cannot pay for peace.
Radix: What are some of the most common misconceptions about neurodivergence that you find particularly harmful?
TN: One of the biggest misconceptions—at least for someone like me who is level two—is the idea that we’re incapable. I grew up in a household where my parents told me I was different, but they never told me I couldn’t do something. They taught me to figure things out. If there was something I couldn’t do, I was encouraged to problem-solve—not to immediately assume I was unable. That made a huge difference.
When children are told repeatedly that they cannot do something, that becomes ingrained in them—and many won’t even try. Sometimes the very people who love us most end up limiting us without realizing it. Words have power. They can tear down, or they can build up. I’ve seen parents treat their children as though they’re severely limited. But your child believes in you, no matter their age—even teenagers believe in you. I’ve seen that in my own church with kids I knew when they were little and still speak into now that they’re older. They value what you say, especially if they look up to you.
So when you constantly tell a child they cannot do something—even if that child is not neurodivergent—they’re likely to believe it. And that belief can follow them for the rest of their life.
Radix: I’m very grateful for my own parents and extended family, and I realize how much of a difference that kind of support makes. I’ve also seen people who came from much harder backgrounds and still managed to flourish, which is remarkable. Parental belief really is powerful.
TN: Yes, it truly is.
Radix: Thinking now about the church specifically, years ago I worked with a paraplegic and often took him to church. I quickly learned how much accessibility and awareness matter. From your perspective, how could churches better support and welcome people with neurodivergence?
TN: I think there needs to be a sense of liberty—within healthy boundaries, of course—but real freedom to be yourself. I can only speak from my experience, but at my church there is a strong sense that you’re free to express your personal relationship with God. And it’s beautiful. We have people with neurodivergence at my church, and when we come together, we’re a lot for some people—but we are still ourselves. That’s the beauty of it: feeling free to be authentic instead of restricted.
We don’t do well with being constrained in our personalities because we tend to be very expressive. For example, with my ADHD, I’m very animated. When I’m into the sermon, I’ll say “Yes!” out loud. And everyone knows, that’s just what Traci does.
Radix: You’ve mentioned how people sometimes aren’t prepared for your personality style. Are there other things that can hinder communication—things where you feel you have to be particularly aware or cautious in different settings?
TN: My parents raised me to know my environment and read the room. So I try to feel people out. I ask questions. I pay attention to my surroundings and how people interact. If I greet someone in a bubbly, friendly way and they respond with a very flat “Oh… hey,” then I know, okay—you’re probably not my person. And that’s fine. I’ll still be respectful and honor your boundaries, but I’ll know how to relate to you.
I’m also very bubbly and friendly, and I’m a hugger.
Radix: [Laughter]
TN: The people at my church know this, and it’s kind of become contagious. Sometimes they’ll just come up to me and say, “Give me my hug.” And I get excited: I show my love through hugs. The kids love it. Adults love it too. It’s really sweet. Now, I won’t go around hugging men because I’m married—but if a woman tells me she really needs a hug, I’ll hug her. My hug might help her get through the day, and I’m not going to turn that away.
I’ve also had people feel comfortable sharing their whole life story with me, even if we’ve just met. And I’ll think, “You don’t even know me—why are you telling me all this?” But maybe they sense my spirit. So I listen.
Radix: Would you describe yourself as fairly perceptive when it comes to observing other people’s behaviors and mannerisms?
TN: For the most part, yes. But it’s not always easy. Some people mask, and they’re just hiding who they really are. So I try to observe how they interact with others and go from there. But not everyone is easy to read.
Radix: Turning to your poetry, do you feel that your neurodivergence gives you a certain edge? Does it allow you to see the world or use language in a unique way?
TN: As I’ve said before, I always give credit where credit is due. God gives me the words—I just share the message.
One example is a poem I wrote for South Carolina ETV to honor the Emanuel 9 at Mother Emanuel Church. The backstory is important: God told me to do it, but I didn’t even have a concept yet. I had no point, no outline—nothing. He just said, “Set the thing up.” So I did. I reached out, even though I didn’t know what I was going to write. And once the interview was finalized, that’s when God gave me the poem. There’s a deep dependency I have on God, because He put me here—I didn’t put myself here. So He’s the only one who gets the glory. I didn’t know any of this would go as far as it did. Everything people see with my poetry is divinely orchestrated. It’s all in His hands. It’s very humbling.
Just recently, I discovered emails from years ago—before I started my writing journey—that showed God had already been positioning things. Writing opportunities, even the website platform I use now—I was getting emails about those things long before I ever stepped into them. I had completely forgotten about it until now. It just reminded me again: everything unfolded exactly as it was supposed to. I only had to be obedient.
So when people are amazed by what they see, what they’re really seeing is obedience. And I hope that encourages others. God will often tell you to do things that don’t make sense at all. But if you just do what He tells you to do, the meaning will eventually be revealed. With the Emanuel Nine poem, I had no point—no direction. It was pure faith. And because I obeyed, the poem came. That’s the beauty of God: just obey Him. You never know what will happen.
Radix: You made a really striking distinction in an earlier conversation between being gifted and being given. Could you share more about that?
TN: We live in a society that emphasizes being gifted, and there’s nothing wrong with that. But being given is different. I’ve been given something. You’ve been given something—favor, the ability to hear from God, to receive what I call His “downloads.”
But being given comes with sacrifice. And that’s the part people don’t like to talk about. They’ll say they want the favor of God—but are they willing to sacrifice for it? I’ll give you a simple example. I used to make jewelry. If you look back at some of my earlier interviews, you’ll see pieces I made myself. One day, God didn’t tell me to stop—He asked me a question: “When people compliment your jewelry and ask who made it, what do you say?” And without hesitation, I realized I always said, “I made it.” Over and over. And then I knew: Who’s getting the glory from that? So I said, “I got You, Lord. I’ll let it go.”
Now, to some people that might seem small. But I had been making jewelry since seventh grade. I’m 36 now—that was a huge part of my life. Letting that go was a real sacrifice. There have been others, too. For a long time I wanted to do a stand-up comedy special about my neurodivergence. I thought people would laugh, and it would be fun. But then God asked again: “Who would get the glory from that?” That’s the relationship I walk in with God.
Radix: That’s really striking—the importance of sacrifice. It’s not something our culture talks about very much, especially because sacrifice isn’t exactly fun.
TN: Exactly. Nobody wants to sacrifice.
Radix: Right, not really.
TN: But if you want to be given, there’s a beauty to it that’s limitless. Being gifted is good, but there are limits to being gifted. When you’re given by God, there are no limits. That’s why I’m willing to make sacrifices—to experience that.
It really comes down to what you value. If you see the beauty of it, the power of it, the spiritual anointing of it, then it becomes worth it. I love that anyone can have that kind of relationship with God—but you won’t receive it freely without cost. You have to be willing to forsake things. God might tell you to give up a relationship. He might tell you to give up a habit. And if you truly want that depth of favor and connection, you have to be willing to obey.
Now, people see the amazing things that have happened in my life. But I had to make sacrifices to get here. I’m not going to sugarcoat that. Were those sacrifices worth what people see now? Oh yeah. Times ten. But I had to go through things. I had to seek God deeply. That’s why my bond with God is so strong—because I went through things, and the only way I came out was through Him helping me and showing me the way.
There’s a beautiful vulnerability that comes when you recognize that you need God and that you don’t know everything. I tell my husband all the time, “I’ve gotten to a place where I know nothing.” Some people might think that sounds like I’m putting myself down—but I’m not. As long as I know I need God and can depend on Him, there is nothing too hard for Him. God puts me where He wants me. Because of that, no attack, no opposition, nothing that tries to come against me can withstand that. I know where my sufficiency lies. I know who I depend on. And that makes all the difference.
Radix: That was a pretty good sermon!
TN: [Laughter]
Radix: So, everyone has different relational practices with God, different rhythms of faith. Are there any daily practices that you’ve found especially helpful over time?
TN: Yes. My husband and I do devotionals together in the morning. Whether you’re single or married, I really encourage people to start their day with God. When you open that door to Him first thing, what you receive is rich and beautiful. You never know what the day is going to bring, and you need that spiritual covering.
We pray in the morning. We confess. We read Scripture together: sometimes one chapter, sometimes more. We might each read separately later too, but we always begin together. That foundation makes such a difference. I often tell people, the more you consume God, the more He will consume you. If you constantly feel overwhelmed, like the weight of the world is on your shoulders, it may be because you’re not consuming enough spiritually.
And it’s not just about sacrifice—it’s also about replacement. When you let go of unhealthy habits, you have to replace them with godly ones. Starting the day with God is one of the most powerful replacements you can make.
Radix: In terms of your poetry, are there daily practices that help your creativity—journaling, reading, or anything like that?
TN: I yield to God in that as well. I’ve been journaling for a long time. I write letters to God, and I still do that.
I’ll start with “Dear God,” and just thank Him for the day, for whatever I’m dealing with. I pour my heart out. That’s part of relationship. People want the benefits of God without wanting a relationship with Him—but you can’t have it both ways. If someone barely talks to me, I don’t want to do anything for them. If my husband barely speaks to me or acts like he doesn’t want to be bothered, I’m not eager to cook for him. So why do we think we can use God for our personal gain without spending time with Him?
You have to be with Him. You have to be intimate with Him. You show Him that you love Him, and you’ll be amazed at what He gives you freely. If God gives something to me freely, then I know it’s real. But if I have to force it, it’s not real. When something is truly for you, you won’t have to manipulate it into existence.
Radix: One thing that really stood out to me in your story is your joy in helping nonprofits. You’ve built a platform, yes, but you also use it to uplift others. Could you talk a little about that?
TN: I give all credit to God for that. I grew up in a home where we were taught that someone is always more or less fortunate than you, and that you should give back. That was instilled in me. But as life went on and I struggled with my own insecurities, I drifted from that for a while.
God had to remind me that I was called to be a servant. As I mentioned before, I worked many servant-type jobs—pre-K assistant, cleaning public bathrooms, changing diapers—true servanthood work. And I hated it at the time. I felt less-than, like I didn’t matter. But now I see how God used those experiences to deepen my compassion. I can feel people’s pain. I understand what it’s like to feel unseen, to feel like no one cares, to feel like no one wants to help. Because of that, I’m grateful that God built my name the way He did—not for my glory, but so that I could uplift others. That’s what it’s all about. I don’t understand people who build platforms just to glorify themselves. Who’s actually benefiting from that?
We often define success only by money. But for me, the success of others is my success. The people I’ve helped, the ones uplifted through my work—that’s what will last when I’m gone. The words, the information, the empowerment—that’s the legacy. I love that God uses poetry as a form of advocacy. People can look within themselves, reflect, and choose to grow. Words really can change lives. Anyone, from any walk of life, can be impacted by them. I’m simply grateful to be a servant.
Radix: You do both page and performance. Are your poems best read or listened to, or is it a mix?
TN: It’s definitely a variety, and that’s why I say it’s all God. If you ask most poets and spoken word artists, they’ll tell you those worlds have often been separated. Moving back and forth between page and stage is not easy. So for God to bridge that gap in my life is beautiful. None of my life is common—and that includes the way the poetry works.
Radix: Do you have any favorite stories from working with children or with people who never thought of themselves as “poetic” or artistic, but then something opened up for them?
TN: Yes. A couple of years ago, I helped with a spoken word showcase. There was a young girl there—she was 14, the same age I was when I started performing. I could see myself in her.
She’s neurodivergent too—she has autism. It was beautiful to be able to sense that and to coach her. She’s been doing well. I try to pour into people what I wish I’d had. A lot of people go through hard things and become bitter. I want my experiences to make me better, and to help me be the person for someone else that I needed when I was their age. That’s what I tried to do for her, and it was very impactful for me. I love seeing people I’ve touched, at any age, feel inspired.
Another story is connected to a Newsweek article I did, titled “Kids at School Threatened Me—I Masked for 34 Years.” One of the boys I knew from when he was in third grade—he’s older now, about to go to college—came up to me at church and said, “Ms. Traci, I was doing homework and I saw your article in Newsweek. I didn’t know you went through all that.” I’m not quick to say things unless God leads me, so I prayed and asked, “Lord, what do you want me to tell him?” The next time I saw him, I said, “I just want you to remember: keep God first. You don’t know where God will take you, but when you keep Him first, He can do amazing things in your life.”
I’m proud to say he received a scholarship and wants to be a teacher. That means so much to me. Sharing my story wasn’t easy. In the Black community, there’s a negative stereotype around autism and mental health, so it was a real risk to come forward like I did. But I have no regrets. Those kinds of outcomes—those lives affected—make it worth it.
Radix: That’s very cool. I think we all underestimate how life-changing a kind, gracious presence can be—a teacher, a pastor, a relative, a mentor. Sometimes it isn’t even something big or planned. It’s just someone being with you, giving you their attention, acknowledging you as a person. Under that kind of care, you can really flourish.
TN: Yes. I think that was well said.
Radix: One question I like to ask in these interviews is about pastors. I don’t think pastors have the same cultural influence they did a hundred years ago, but their words still carry a lot of weight. If you had all the pastors in a room, and they were smiling and receptive, what would you, as who you are—a poet, a neurodivergent person, a woman, a Black woman—want to say to them?
TN: I would say: see us, and listen.
Really listen. And not just to what we say, but to what we carry, our demeanor, our burdens. You never know what someone is going through. Feeling loved and seen is vital. When I go out in public, people sometimes share their life stories with me—just freely. I’m not going to make them feel bad for that. Maybe I was simply meant to be their listening ear in that moment, their person for that time. You just never know. I can only speak from what I know, but my pastor, our bishop, is friendly to everyone. He treats people the same, whether they have a mental health condition or not. He’s very loving. And I love what he says: “You never know where your blessing is going to come from.” He’s right. Your kindness can be incredibly impactful.
I’ll share one more story about how a small act of kindness can matter. I was at Ross during the height of the pandemic. My mom and I had our masks on. There was a Black woman there with her baby in a carrier. I saw her and spoke to her. Even though she couldn’t see me smiling, I believe she could hear it in my voice. We had just a simple, friendly exchange: “Hi, how are you? You doing okay?” “Yes, you doing good?” Just that. I went to the dressing room, tried on some dresses, and then came out and started talking to my mom. The woman came back around and asked, “Is this yours?” It was my purse. I had left it in the dressing room.
She told me she had gone through it to see if there was a license, and she said to her mother, “I feel like this is her purse. She spoke to me, Mom. She spoke to me.” That really touched me. The wrong person could have taken my purse. I might never have gotten it back. But because of that earlier interaction, she felt connected enough to return it. Even my mom said, “That could have turned out very differently.”
So I share that story to say: be mindful. Be kind. Be courteous to people. You never know—that person might end up being your blessing. In that moment, she was mine.
Radix: Yes. That connects with that verse about being hospitable to strangers, because we may be entertaining angels unaware. I’ve thought about that a lot—how often that might actually happen. Sometimes you pass someone and just have this sense of goodness about them, like a fragrance. And maybe that person has just been praying, or just had an encounter with God, or maybe they really are an angel. Scripture tells us to take that possibility seriously. And of course, we don’t love people in order to get something from them—that’s not the point. But it is sobering to realize how powerful a small kindness can be in someone’s day or week—or even in their whole trajectory.
Do you have any final thoughts—anything else you’d like to say to people?
TN: I would just say: trust God. You may not always understand where things are leading, but if you trust God every step of the way, He will see you through. He has definitely done that in my life.
Radix: Thank you so much: for your time, your presence, your smile, your voice. Is there anywhere else people should look for you? You also have children’s books, right?
TN: Yes.
Radix: Are those easy to find through your main site?
TN: Yes. Everything is on the website. I tell people it’s a one-stop shop.
Radix: Perfect. We’ll make sure all of that is linked. Again, thank you very, very much for this.TN: Thank you for having me.