22/06/2026
As someone who spends most of my working week supporting neurodivergent children, families, schools and educators, I’m always looking for resources that move the conversation forward.
Not because schools need more information. Because children need schools that actually do something with it.
Recently I finished reading Neurodiversity Affirming Schools by Emily Kircher-Morris and Amanda Morin.
The question I’ve been asked is simple: Should every school read it? My answer is also simple.
Yes.
But reading it and implementing it are two very different things. And that’s where things get interesting.
One of the things I appreciated most about this book is that it starts from a place of understanding rather than compliance.
It acknowledges something many neurodivergent people have been trying to tell educators for decades: Behaviour doesn’t happen in a vacuum. Children don’t wake up and decide to be difficult. Students don’t melt down because they enjoy chaos.
Young people aren’t refusing because they want to make life harder for the adults around them.
Behaviour is communication. Distress is communication. Withdrawal is communication. Masking is communication.
The book explores many of the experiences neurodivergent students face, including sensory differences, emotional regulation, burnout, masking, rejection sensitivity and environmental fit.
For me, that’s a huge tick.
Because the moment we stop asking, “How do we make this child comply?” and start asking, “What is this child trying to communicate?” everything changes.
The other strength is that it doesn’t just talk about inclusion as a concept. It offers practical strategies.
And we know, teachers are drowning. Most educators I meet genuinely care. They want to help. They want students to feel safe and included. But many have never been taught how. This book provides a solid starting point.
Because reality is harder than the book. The book assumes that schools want to be inclusive. And many do. But some don’t.
Or perhaps more accurately, some say they do while continuing practices that actively exclude neurodivergent students.
Because here’s what I see every week.
Schools sending children home because they’re overwhelmed. Schools suspending students for disability-related behaviours. Schools refusing accommodations because they’re “unfair.” Schools expecting self-regulation from children whose nervous systems are already operating in survival mode. Schools calling parents to collect children because they’re inconvenient rather than distressed. Schools talking about inclusion while practising exclusion.
And that’s the challenge. Those schools don’t need another book. They need accountability.
No amount of professional development changes culture if leadership isn’t prepared to challenge their own beliefs.
We’ve spent years educating schools about neurodiversity. The information exists. The webinars exist. The books exist. The research exists. The lived experience exists.
So why are so many families still fighting the same battles?
Because knowledge isn’t the barrier anymore. Implementation is. Most schools can tell you what co-regulation is from a theoretical perspective. Far fewer consistently practise it.
Most schools can define masking. Far fewer recognise it in the student who appears compliant all day and then collapses at home.
Most schools can explain reasonable adjustments. Far fewer implement them in a meaningful way.
The gap between what schools know and what schools do is where many neurodivergent children continue to get hurt.
For families supporting children with a PDA profile, I think this book is helpful, but it isn’t enough on its own.
It provides a strong foundation around neurodiversity and inclusion, but PDA requires a deeper understanding of autonomy, threat responses, demand sensitivity and nervous system activation.
I’d still recommend additional PDA-specific learning for schools supporting these students.
Because understanding autism doesn’t automatically mean understanding PDA.
And many families know that all too well.
So should every school have this book? Yes.
Without hesitation. It should be in every principal’s office. Every learning support department. Every school counsellor’s library. Every executive team’s professional development collection.
If I had to choose between a school that owns this book and a school that genuinely listens to families, co-regulates with students, provides sensory safety, respects accommodations and understands behaviour as communication? I’d choose the second school every single time.
Because books don’t create inclusion. People do. Relationships do. Curiosity does. Humility does. Listening does. And the willingness to change does.
