Alumni Interview: Megan McKenna

My greatest passion as a speech-language pathologist, or SLP, is to help individuals who have signs of autism get diagnosed more quickly. The waitlist right now is just atrocious, even in metropolitan areas. But we also must make sure the experience is positive and that autism diagnoses are accurate.
During my career, I’ve seen a lot of silos. One person meeting a child once makes a diagnosis. But that’s not getting the whole picture. When multiple people see the same child repeatedly, we better understand how they’re functioning in the world and how they’re experiencing it.
Recently, I was at a career crossroads. I left a full-time job unsure of what I’d do next. In March 2024, I sent a cold email to Plum Tree Psychology, a child/adolescent psychology practice that’s also passionate about diagnostics. I asked if they’d be interested in having an SLP’s input. They responded in 20 minutes.
I started there in August, and we now have a model developed where I tag-team with a psychologist or neuropsychologist on all autism diagnoses. We notice things that the other doesn’t, and vice versa.
For instance, difficulty making eye contact is a symptom. But autistic girls and women often try hard to appear neurotypical. They might look at another part of your face, so their characteristics are more subtle and easier to go unidentified. Often, I’m the one who flags that. Meanwhile, psychologists point out which characteristics could be attributed to something else—ADHD, anxiety or other diagnoses outside of my scope. We balance each other out.
I’ve always had a love for language and communication. I grew up in Crystal Lake, Ill. My mom was an elementary school teacher, and my dad also has an education background. My two brothers played sports, and I sat on the sidelines and read for hours, Little House on the Prairie and American Girl books.
“Autism is a spectrum and every child’s needs and strengths are different.” —Megan McKenna, ’11 AHS, MS ’13 AHS
As I got older, I also enjoyed science and thought about nursing or medical school. Then I took a job quiz and learned about speech-language pathology. It marries the two. There’s anatomy and physiology, but it has an artistry to it. You’re working with somebody who’s not communicating in typical ways. You have to figure out how to bridge the gap for them and their communication partners.
I started school at Elmhurst College, but it didn’t feel right, so I transferred to Illinois in January 2007 of my freshman year. The Department of Speech and Hearing Science felt like home, a little cocoon at this giant university.
Originally, I planned to work with adults, but early on, I took a child language class with Professor Pamela Hadley and was fascinated. I asked Dr. Hadley if she would be my advisor for my James Scholar Honors Program project and wound up working in her lab from my sophomore year until I finished my master’s degree.
The things she taught me guide my clinical practice. She focused on what we say and how we say it. It’s not about bringing in the cutest toys, all the bells and whistles. It has to be about connection with the child and how you use language to get to the next step.
Autism is a spectrum and every child’s needs and strengths are different.
I learned from my colleagues across disciplines. I picked up social work and psychological techniques and found out what worked for veteran teachers. It reinforced the idea of connection above everything. If you’re trying to get a child out from under a desk mid-meltdown, they have to understand that they’re safe and that you accept who they are and the emotional experience they’re having before you can focus on any other goals.
Compared to when I graduated, we talk about autism differently now. It’s not so much that it’s a disorder and there are symptoms, but that it’s a different neurotype with characteristics. Those characteristics bring challenges, but also beauty and strength. We’re moving away from autism as something to be fixed and toward modifying our environment so people with all neurotypes can succeed.
I worked in schools for four years, at Northwestern Medicine for six years, and then taught at Northern Illinois University for a year-and-a-half. At each place, I was always stepping out of what most people defined as an SLP’s role. That led me to the multidisciplinary evaluation model.
I would love to see other practices adopt such models and welcome speech-language pathologists and similar professionals into the diagnostic process. Not only will this make healthcare better for autistic people, but it will also create more flexible roles for SLPs and others in helping professions, so they can prioritize their families and well-being. We can improve lives in a mutually beneficial way.