Speech Freedom

24/11/2025

This evening I reheated half of the spaghetti bolognese I’d cooked yesterday – one of those simple, home-cooked meals to get us a couple of meals through the week without too much faff.

“Mum… is that a mushroom?”

I had to answer honestly: yes, it was.

I’ve never been one for sneaking things into food. I say this as the parent of a child with ARFID, so believe me, I understand the desperation, the negotiations, the wanting them to eat anything at all. But long ago I chose honesty over hiding, because trust is far more important than getting one extra vegetable into a meal.

“Why have you put mushrooms in the spag bol?”

And I said simply, because I like mushrooms, so I wanted to put them in our meal.

Numbers 2 and 3 could not compute this information at all. Why, on earth, would I put something they *don’t* like into something they *do?*

And my answer was this: because sometimes it’s good to revisit the things we’ve decided we don’t like, just to see if that’s still true. Not unsafe things. Not forced things. Just the old, quiet rules we made for ourselves a long time ago that might not even apply to who we are now.

“I went in the sea this year for the first time in over twenty years,” I told them. “I’d decided, somewhere along the line, that I just didn’t like the sea. It became a rule I never questioned. And yes, let’s be clear, I’m still not planning on doing anything wild out there. You won’t catch me diving into waves or swimming miles out. Knees-in is still very much my limit… but it turns out I don’t hate it the way I thought I did.”

Who I was twenty years ago is not who I am now.

Number 3, meanwhile, had very carefully and methodically picked out every single mushroom from his portion, creating a tiny, very neat pile on the side of his plate.

“I’m not eating them,” he said, calmly.

And that was absolutely fine.

Number 2 added, “Just because I’m eating them tonight, doesn’t mean I like them. And it definitely doesn’t mean I want them in the next spag bol.”

Also fine.

Because that was never the point.

The point wasn’t to force change. It was simply to plant the idea that our preferences, our tolerances, our boundaries and even our fears… they’re allowed to evolve.

This year, I’ve been quietly challenging myself in lots of small, manageable ways. Only where it feels safe. Only where it feels possible. Only where it matters. I’m not trying to become a different person. I’m just allowing a little more curiosity into the person I already am.

And the most special part? I shared that moment in the sea with a very excited Number 4, who’d never seen her mum go in before. We stood there together, side by side, feeling the cold water against our legs, half laughing, half shrieking, completely alive in the moment.

Not because I had to prove anything.

But because sometimes, it’s okay to rewrite an old rule.

Emma
The Autistic SENCo
♾️

Photo: Number 3 sat on a lock beam eating his lunch quickly as the lock filled with water.

24/11/2025

23/11/2025

23/11/2025

Really useful

I was reading an email from a parent today who mentioned that the key feature of her child's expressive language is questions. It reminded me of the first time I came across this. Around 1988, I was working in a Primary School 4 mornings a week supporting a child who had left a language unit but still required intensive support. While in the classroom, I observed another child, James aged 8. He was autistic and continually asked, "Is it home time yet?" His teacher was understandably very frustrated as it started from very early in the morning and lasted all day. By lunchtime, she was sending him out of the classroom. She felt he was deliberately winding her up. If she asked back "Is it hometime?" He would say "No." She had tried yelling, warning, banning.....nothing worked.

I asked if I could assess him. It turned out that his verbal understanding was really poor and his expressive ability wasn't much better. He had alot of sensory seeking behaviurs too (OTs didnt do sensory in the NHS at that stage). It wasnt as simple as he just didnt want to be there because everything was too hard, he was using the question/phrase for a variety of reasons.

Many children espcially autistic children go through phases (or long-term patterns) of talking almost entirely in questions, sometimes asking dozens or even hundreds per day. This can feel confusing or exhausting for adults, but it’s usually
communication, not “testing boundaries”.

✅ Why an autistic child may ask so many questions (and it may be more than one!)

1. Anxiety regulation (“If I know what's happening, I feel safe”)

Questions are often a way to reduce uncertainty.
Instead of small social reassurances (“It’s okay”, a glance, a gesture), autistic children use verbal checking:

“Are we going now?”
“What time will we get there?”
“Will it rain?”
“Are you sure?”
“Is that right?”

The questions act like an anxiety release valve.

2. Monoprocessing + need for predictability

If the world feels unpredictable or overwhelming, questions help create structure.
They anchor the child:

* What’s the plan?
* What’s next?
Even questions they already know the answers to (like James above).

Repeated questions = predictability-seeking behaviour, not defiance.

3. Language development – especially gestalt processors

Some autistic children use questions as their preferred sentence shape.
If they are gestalt language processors, they may echo:

“Is that a digger?”
“What are you doing?”
“Are we nearly there?”

Sometimes they know the answer; the question is just the “frame” they use to speak.

4. Social connection attempts

Questions can be the easiest way for the child to:

* start interactions
* keep an adult engaged
* avoid silence
* express interest

It’s social communication, even if it doesn’t look like typical back-and-forth.

5. Processing delay

Questions come in a stream because the child may be:

* thinking aloud
* processing information externally
* checking their understanding

Question = processing tool.

6. Demand avoidance

For some children (especially PDA profiles), questions serve to:

* delay a demand
* create control
* feel safe before complying

The child isn’t trying to be difficult; they’re trying to stay regulated.

✅ How to manage it without shutting the child down

A. Meet the underlying need first

If it’s anxiety-driven, the solution is predictability + co-regulation, not “fewer questions”.

Try:

* visual timelines
* “first–then–next” sequences
* environment previews (“We’re going into Tesco. It will be busy. We need milk and bread.”)

Often this reduces the flood of questions on its own.

B. Give “pre-answers”

Before an anxiety-provoking activity, give the key information up front:

“We’ll leave in 10 minutes. When I say ‘shoes’, that’s the 5-minute warning. In the car, we’re listening to your music.”

This stops the child needing to ask everything.

C. Use a “question bank” or “ask card” system

For children who ask rapid-fire factual questions:

* “That’s a great question—let’s write it down to explore later.”
* Use a notepad or tablet.
* At an agreed time, choose 1–3 questions to answer properly.

This teaches containment, not suppression.

D. Offer “comment models”

If the child communicates in question-shaped sentences, you can gently model:

Child: “Is that a big lorry?”
Adult: “Yes—it’s a big lorry! Really loud too.”

Child: “Are we going to Nanny’s after school?”
Adult:“Yes, after school we’re going to Nanny’s.”

No correction, just giving a declarative model.

E. If the questions are repetitive

Respond with a consistent, predictable phrase, for example:

* “Same answer as before.”
* “You’re thinking about that again—I get it.”
* “The plan is still the same.”
* “You’re checking—everything is okay.”

This removes the reward loop of multiple detailed explanations,
but still meets their need for reassurance.

F. Use sensory or emotional regulation strategies

When the questions spike, it often signals dysregulation.

Try:

* a movement break
* deep pressure input
* a quiet space
* headphones
* a regulating activity (lego, drawing, sorting)

If the nervous system calms, the questions drop.

G. For PDA profiles

Shift from answering to sideways scaffolding, e.g.:

* “Hmm, I wonder…”
* “Let’s figure that out together.”
* “You’re curious about the next bit.”
* “Good thinking.”

This reduces demand while still engaging.

When I meet the little boy we were discussing this morning, it might be something completely different!

✅ When to be concerned

Consider extra support if:

* questions cause significant distress
* they interfere with daily life
* questions are accompanied by rising panic
* the child becomes aggressive when you cannot answer
* they're asking literal medical/emotional safety questions repeatedly (“Will I die if…?”)

I love working in an MDT for these ones as we can brain-storm together!

23/11/2025

Does fear motivate learners to do better?

I’ve just read the Tes article on whether fear actually motivates children to work harder in school… (Mark Roberts, 20 Nov 2025) and honestly, it made my heart sink a little. Not because the article was wrong — in fact, much of it confirmed what so many of us already know — but because fear has become so normalised in our education system that we are still having to debate whether frightening children is “effective motivation”.

When young people are told, “If you don’t get this grade, you won’t get a job” or “This is your only chance”, we might think we are lighting a fire under them. What we’re often actually doing is lighting the fuse of anxiety, shutdown, avoidance and despair.

Because if a child doesn’t believe they can succeed, that message doesn’t feel like motivation.
It feels like a threat.

And a threat tells the nervous system: you are not safe.

So what do children do when they feel unsafe?
They avoid. They mask. They freeze. They act out. They shut down. They disappear. They stop trying at all.

I see this every day in my work with neurodivergent children and young people. These aren’t students who “lack motivation”. These are students who have been told — in a hundred subtle and not-so-subtle ways — that the system was not made for them. Add fear on top of that and all you do is deepen the belief that they are failing at being human.

And I think that’s the bit we need to sit with.

For a neurotypical student who already believes in their ability, a fear-based message might create a short, sharp boost in effort. But for a neurodivergent child — already navigating sensory overload, executive functioning difficulties, confusion, shame, trauma or burnout — fear doesn’t motivate.
It paralyses.

But here’s something else we need to be curious about, rather than critical of.

We need to ask why a pupil isn’t achieving what we believe they are capable of.

Number 3 didn’t achieve in his first maths assessment this term because he didn’t have a calculator. His autistic brain wanted to make absolutely sure he had the correct calculator for his A-level maths class, so he planned to speak to the teacher first. What he didn’t realise was that the very first lesson would be a test — one that he simply didn’t have the tools to complete.

The concern quickly became that he “needed to work harder”. In reality, the only thing he needed was access to the correct equipment. If the teacher had simply lent him a calculator, instead of taking a “that’ll teach him” approach, the outcome would have been very different.

The assumption that the problem was effort was completely unfounded.

And this is exactly why fear fails.

So what does help?

Connection.
Specific guidance.
Compassion.
Belief.

Not “work harder”, but “this is the part we’ll tackle together”.
Not “you’ll fail”, but “you can, and I will show you how”.
Not “this is your last chance”, but “there is always another way”.

That is the difference between threat and hope.

The tragedy is, teachers are under such enormous pressure themselves that fear has become easy — and quick. Targets, inspections, performance tables, outcomes. I understand why some feel they have no other tools left to reach students who seem disengaged. But we have to be honest here: fear is not teaching. Fear is control.

And control is not the same as learning.

So if this article does one thing, I hope it encourages us to rethink our language — in classrooms, in corridors, in assemblies, in policies, in politics. I hope it reminds us that children don’t need scarier futures painted in front of them…

They need safer presents created around them.

Because a child who feels safe will try.

A child who feels believed in will risk.

A child who feels understood will grow.

And that will always be more powerful than fear.

Emma
The Autistic SENCo
♾️

20/11/2025

I fixed the DfE apology letter! ☺️👋

Available for copywriting at decent freelance rates (a couple of gluesticks that actually work)

19/11/2025

To go with my other post!

Because we love Elmo and we love Jonathan Bailey ✨

I was feeling sad till I saw this clip, and well you know me I have to draw any moment of love ❤️ Thank you for the magic x