14/06/2026
The real world …kids have to be ready for it… it’s the rationale used for lots of practices & expectations (some quite stupid things at times) so I really liked this analogy which blows all that out the water!
We as adults react to situations most often based on how they make us feel, when they feel uncomfortable in a bad way, we choose to adjust. We are just larger kids, we are not much different so why do we treat kids like they are a different species sometimes?
This also supports that behaviour is communication. Everytime we change or adapt, we are communicating through that behaviour.
I long for a world where education completely catches up with this evidenced backed research & thinking….I see pockets of it but it’s still not yet wide enough.
Would you keep your shower at the same temperature as the rest of the household because everyone should feel or be the same? I think not 🚿💁🏻♀️ we don’t all learn the same or feel the same about our environments either 💁🏻♀️
I like an analogy.
I like them because they help us make sense of complicated things by connecting them to real-world experiences. I use them when I’m teaching, certainly, but I also use them for myself. They help me check that I really understand what I think I’m understanding. Analogous thinking helps me make sense of the world.
Yesterday morning, while standing in the shower, I noticed (and quietly harrumphed about) the fact that the temperature lever had been moved since I last used it.
I like things to be the same. Yes, even the temperature lever on the shower.
As I slightly arseily nudged it upwards to make the water cooler, I found myself thinking about how perfectly this illustrates the difference between Number 4 and me.
She likes a much hotter shower than I do.
If I shower at the temperature she enjoys, my skin reacts badly. Within minutes I look as though I’ve been scalded. Large patches of angry redness appear wherever the water has touched me. It physically hurts and there is visible evidence of that discomfort.
The same thing happens with the car.
Hubbie and I have developed a sort of dance every time we swap drivers. The seat moves backwards or forwards. The mirrors are adjusted. We both mutter under our breath about having to do it.
But it has to be done.
I’m much shorter than he is. If I tried to drive with the seat in his position, I wouldn’t reach the pedals properly. If he drove in mine, he wouldn’t be able to see correctly through the mirrors. We couldn’t drive safely. In truth, we probably couldn’t drive at all.
Nobody would suggest that I should simply use the same shower temperature as Number 4.
Nobody would suggest that I should just learn to drive with Hubbie’s seat position.
Nobody would tell me that everyone has the same shower, so I should stop complaining.
Nobody would say that discomfort is character-building.
We accept without question that different bodies have different needs.
We accept that people make adjustments to keep themselves safe, comfortable and able to function.
I don’t have a duvet on the bed because I overheat. Hubbie has a thick, plush one in his apartment.
I don’t wear heels.
I choose the food I eat.
I have my hair in the way that feels comfortable.
I choose clothes that feel right on my body.
I add layers when I’m cold and remove them when I’m hot.
I have a standing desk if I need it.
I can get up and walk around when sitting becomes painful.
I don’t need permission.
These adjustments are simply accepted as sensible ways of helping me function well.
One commenter once said something under a post I wrote that has stayed with me. They said that children need to get used to how things will be ‘in the real world’ and we shouldn’t adapt education around their sensory, physical and mental health needs.
And I wrote another post detailing how I actually do love my life very much around my sensory needs as many people do.
We don’t simply put up with things.
And increasingly, workplaces are recognising this too.
The latest Neurodiversity Index from the City & Guilds Foundation shows that accommodations, reasonable adjustments, resources and strategies are becoming more available. Some organisations are further ahead than others. Larger companies often have neurodiversity champions and formal policies. Smaller organisations may need more manager training and support.
But the direction of travel is clear.
The workplace is gradually becoming more adaptable.
Yet education often feels as though it is moving in the opposite direction.
The curriculum is increasingly packed.
Assessment and testing continue to grow.
Children spend longer in education than ever before.
Society has changed.
Family structures have changed.
The world children are growing up in has changed.
Yet when some children tell us they are struggling, or show us through their behaviour that they are struggling, too often they are dismissed, doubted or simply expected to endure.
Why?
Why do we find it so easy to understand that adults have different needs but so difficult to extend that same understanding to children?
Why do we believe adults when they say something hurts, but question children when they say the same?
Why are we becoming less adaptable at the very time we need more flexibility, more creativity and more understanding?
Because from where I’m standing, it feels as though we’re trying to solve deep and complex problems by demanding that everyone uses the same shower temperature.
And I can’t see how that ends well.
So this morning I’ll get into the shower and I’ll probably be mildly irritated that someone has moved the lever again.
But then I’ll remind myself that at least I get to move it back.
I get to choose.
And because I get to choose, my body doesn’t hurt.
I don’t spend the rest of the day carrying the consequences of someone else’s preferred setting.
The redness disappears.
The pain never arrives.
And perhaps that’s the point.
Adjustments don’t give people an advantage.
They simply allow them to function without unnecessary pain.
Emma
The Autistic SENCo
♾️
