School is hard. Our two children coped okay in Infants (bit fidgety), started to struggle in Juniors (bit distracted and can’t sit still) but by high school, things became far, far harder. To a point that school became a step too far for our daughter as she hit autistic burnout.
But why? Here are six reasons that SEND pupils find schools to be exhausting, overwhelming and an huge strain on their mental and physical well-being.
1. Communication
Teachers are busy and have a lot of information to convey. They might give a series of instructions in a single breath. But what if you can’t hold that much in your brain at once? Our daughter has a very low working memory, so can cope with one or two things at once (on a good day). Anything more and she simply won’t remember the rest. Too many and she won’t even remember the first thing you said as her brain is overloaded and freaking out. How many teachers have time to give out one instruction at a time and wait for the pupil to process and then complete it? Yet that’s what she would need.
And it’s not just complexity of teacher’s instructions that derails them; communication in the teenage years gets a whole lot more involved. They have to navigate nuance (subtlety), metaphors, ambiguity, idioms, sarcasm and jokes. Obviously this applies to chats with friends too, as teenage relationships become more complex and blunt honesty is less welcomed. Which brings us onto…
2. Relationships
The teenage years are about identity, belonging, fitting in. My daughter tried to be invisible, to avoid negative attention. But it doesn’t matter how much an SEND pupil masks or tries to be like everyone else, students know. They pick up on the differences. Neurodiverse young people say the wrong things, hold themselves differently, copy others as they try to understand the world, laugh at the wrong bits, say too much or too little, have too much or too little eye contact.
My daughter is attending a course for neuro-diverse teens and whilst they are all different (a few cope in school, some self-teach at home, some struggle to say anything at all), the one thing that is universal is that none of them have any close friends. And that sucks.
3. Stress
Many neurodiverse people find comfort in routine, whereas school is unpredictable. A teacher might be absent (and the temporary replacement rarely understands pupils’ needs), the seating plan might change, a test is set unexpectedly, children are asked to pick teams in PE (which is divisive and should NEVER happen), pupils are asked a question, put on the spot or asked to stand and read aloud. All of these things create huge anxiety and stress.
My daughter becomes mute when stressed (selective mutism), yet a senior teacher put her on the spot and then waited patiently for a response. Whilst she became less and less able to respond as her anxiety rose and rose and rose. (This was before her formal diagnosis but when her support plan noted potential neurodiversity.)
4. Concentration
Focusing for almost an hour at a time, in a stressful unpredictable environment is a huge task for neurodiverse children. They have an ability to focus that is almost unparalleled (hyperfocus), but only on the things that hook into their brain and capture their attention. So with topics that don’t grab them, they struggle to focus their energy and enthusiasm. They might lose their place (then have to ask another pupil what was said, incurring the negative attention of a teacher for talking), miss steps out, or just lose interest because they’ve no energy left.
Their desire to escape, to look outside, to cope with overwhelm by stimming or day-dreaming, often takes their brain in directions that aren’t conducive with study. But these are valid coping mechanisms and no amount of shouting or cheerleading is going to change things.
5. Safety
Safety is paramount for all of us. Our children need a solid foundation beneath them, to feel that the world is okay, that it is free from threats, that they are safe and can relax. Despite policies that promise safety, schools are rarely the safe haven that SEND pupils need. It doesn’t matter what your paperwork says, if a student is harassed, barged and picked on before they’ve even sat down for the first lesson.
My daughter doesn’t trust adults (due to trauma as a baby). She takes months to get to know a grown-up well enough to trust them. In a high school with five lessons a day, five days a week, on a two-week timetable, her interactions are too infrequent and too many for her to build that solid relationship.
Then there’s bullying. The name calling. The pupils who touch her or her hair deliberately to provoke an extreme reaction. Who say horrible things about her being adopted or her birth parents. How can a pupil feel safe if they experience things like that on a daily basis?
6. Sensory
Finally, there is the sensory experience of school. Imagine having the volume turned to overdrive on every one of your senses…
- Smells – from science labs to the food hall, from the smell of deodorants in the toilets or after PE, or being maliciously sprayed with it. The smells can make our children feel physically sick.
- Sounds – school is a busy place with thousands of pupils. There is a constant onslaught of noise from chatting, chairs scraping, desks moving, books banging, alarms going and more. Then there are teachers raising their voices to be heard above the melee.
- Touch – for a child who hates to be touched, the jostling as pupils stream from one classroom to the next in a busy corridor, the queues for food at break and lunchtimes, the poking and prodding, the chair kicking, those who deliberately touch her hair for a reaction. Never mind the scratchy uniform and shoes…
Everything Is Wrong
When my daughter or son were struggling with school, when it all became too much, when they sobbed or shook in their beds unable to move or attend, I’d ask them gently what’s wrong? I wanted an easy answer. Something I could solve.
Invariably their answer was EVERYTHING, which I thought less than helpful.
It took me time to fully understand them, their bodies and brains, and get to grips with their individual needs. To unpick their experiences in school. To wake up to the truth in their answer.
For them, nearly everything is wrong about school.
And however much school make minor adjustments – like ear defenders or letting them leave class early to avoid some of the crush – most schools are inherently overwhelming, overstimulating, overtaxing. They’re an experience that is just far far too much for some of our children.
Our children were born a certain way and they can’t rearrange their bodies and brains to fit a system that causes damage (to their self-esteem) and threatens their well-being (through constant crippling anxiety). It’s time for things to change. For government and local authority to truly understand the special educational needs and disabilities and design (and crucially fund) a system that fully supports their needs.
