17/08/2022
Food for thought coming into a new school year.
When an unusual child meets an inflexible school system, things can go wrong. Then, it's common to locate the problems in the child rather than in the environment. Here's what families tell me about that..
Children who don't fit the mould are told that they need to try harder, make less fuss, be less different. The way that everyone else fits in is held up as what to aspire to - no matter if the child thinks otherwise special arrangements are sometimes made. They come out of class for extra reading, or they stay seated in the hallway when everyone else in class. They might have a special card they can raise in class if they're overwhelmed. They come in late, or leave early
Adults think of these things as support but for children it feels quite different. They feel 'other', and not in a good way. Everyone else does it one way, and they are the stand out, the exception. The other kids notice and they're often not kind, children tell me that they think it's their fault. They don't know why they can't be like everyone else, they just can't. They tell me that they are stupid, or even bad. They tell me they hate being marked out, even when they need it. This often includes their diagnoses.
Sometimes they grow to hate the words which are used to define them, blaming the words for the way that they feel. Sometimes the words are used to bully them - many adults have told me that the word 'special' sends a shiver down their spine.
Their parents are often reframing differences in a positive way. They may have their own diagnoses which they have found life-affirming and liberating.For them, it enables them to find their people and be themselves.They tell their children it's fine to be who they are but for the children, it all seems like hot air. It's not liberating when you find school so anxiety-provoking that you can't go. It's not life-affirming when no one will play with you. Why should you be positive about difference when you'd like to be just one of the gang?
I've worked with dyslexic adults who cry when they tell me of the shame they felt aged seven, when everyone else could read. I've worked with autistic adults who are still upset when they remember being the last one standing, unchosen for P.E because they had no friends.
I remember myself, different at secondary school in so many ways. I didn't want to (and couldn't) be like everyone else, but I was bullied and ostracised for who I was. Adults tried to tell me I was fine as I was, but it was obvious the other teenagers didn't think so.
It's important for parents to be positive about difference, but it's not enough. We can't expect our children to appreciate themselves when their way of being means that they are ostracised. We can't tell them it's okay to learn at their own pace when it so clearly isn't.
We're up against a system which isn't flexible enough. We're up against a set of standards which tell our children that they are failing. We're up against a system which prioritises conformity and compliance, with kids who can't or don't want to conform.
We need a system which starts with an assumption of difference and variation.Where the aim is for each child to end their education knowing that they are ok, just as they are. No matter if they struggle to attend full-time, or if they learn to read when they are 6, 8 or 12.
For that is what our children carry through life with them. They won't remember their GCSE history syllabus in 20 years, but they'll remember how it felt to be laughed at, to be excluded, to be told not to be so silly when they explain how the playground makes them scared.
What would it look like, a system where the priority was for each young person to end school feeling good about themselves, no matter what their differences? It's hard to imagine because it's so far from what we have now. But for me, that is what inclusivity really means.
Word by Dr Naomi Fisher
