Why is it so difficult for many autistic pupils to get through a day, week, month or year at school?

Experiences will vary of course. But let’s take a look at what might be an allegedly simple day at school, for one autistic pupil. 

Sam is 11, and autistic. She had a reasonable time in primary school, where her lessons were taking place in one classroom and with one main teacher. Classmates were familiar to her and the school was local to home, so the route was predictable.

But now, she is in her first year at ‘big school’ – secondary school, and everything is different. Absolutely everything.

The journey to school

As her secondary school is further away, Sam takes the bus to school. She gets on and enters a swirl of people, odours and deafening noise. Where to get off the bus?  How to get to the school? Panic is rising, because Sam can barely hear and think amidst all this, but everyone else seems to be coping just fine. 

She arrives at the school gates. Where to go and what to do next? More swirling bodies, loud voices, scuffling feet, shouting, painful jostling, endless buildings … 

An overwhelming classroom

Finally, Sam makes it to the classroom. She doesn’t know where to sit. There are 30 seats.  Which one is the right one? Sam doesn’t know and doesn’t know how to ask – she can’t think how to say anything now – her brain is close to “shutdown”. Her panic rises further. People start staring.  The teacher says something, but it’s just a random stream of noise.

Below you can see a picture of how Sam might see the classroom when the fluorescent lighting is switched on - blinding colours, whirling shapes. What the picture cannot capture is the strobe-light effect, the buzzing of the lighting, the noise of the computers at the edge and the projector overhead, the scraping of chairs on the floor, the background chatter, the smells of the body products used by 30+ individuals, the painful scrape of the new, stiff, tight uniform against Sam’s skin ... 

Desperately, Sam aims for a seat and collides with the desk. Children laugh. The teacher says something else, but it could be anything, in the chaos. Why is it so bright in here, so loud, so overwhelming? Sam tries to cope by rocking gently (a type of ‘stimming’), which really helps her, but people start pointing and staring and the teacher demands that Sam sits still, looking at the teacher all the time, unless doing a set task. Sam now has no way to cope with her overwhelm, on her hard, uncomfortable seat. 

Coping with lunch time

Lunch time. Sam can’t eat. The texture and smell and taste of the food, the clattering and noise, the kitchen smells, the smells from all the other packed meals and school meals … it’s all now too much to endure. Sam goes hungry. She knows her parents will be cross that she’s wasting good food, but she just can’t. Sam goes into the playground, and walks round the edge, back and forth, singing to herself. It’s very calming for her, but the other pupils think it’s ‘weird’ and stare at her.

Getting home

Only another five hours of this to endure, on day one. Then, somehow, a bus ride home, from somewhere, somehow, hoping not to get off the bus at the wrong stop.

When Sam gets home, she has what society often calls a “meltdown”. The stress, and pain, and exhaustion of the whole day comes tumbling out. Sam’s parents can’t understand it. They contact the school to ask what on earth has happened, but staff insist that Sam “behaved just fine” and can’t see the problem.

How many days at school will Sam make it through? What happens when on day five there is a substitute teacher for Sam’s favourite subject? What happens when Sam’s only friend is off ill, or changes school? What happens during sports classes, with changes of clothing, huge changes in temperature, baffling instructions? 

Sam doesn’t struggle to get through the school day because of a lack of ‘resilience’. She finds it hard to cope in an environment that hasn’t been designed for her needs, because as an autistic person she has a totally different way of processing and sensing the world around her.

What can we do to improve the school environment?

There are endless inexpensive ways schools can implement help to improve the environment for autistic pupils. And it’s important to remember that when we make improvements for autistic pupils, everyone benefits. Staff are less exhausted, pupils are better able to engage and attendance improves.  Small changes really matter! 

Here are just a few simple ideas:

• Asking autistic pupils and their parents / carers what really helps them and keep a written record of this that is regularly updated. If children find it difficult to verbalise their needs, they may be able to write them down or draw them.
• Offering staff training about autism from experienced autistic-led training teams
• Offering information and question sessions about neurodivergence for all pupils
• Asking autistic specialists for an evaluation of the school environment. They will be able to make simple recommendations such as:
• Adding anti-scrape cushions on the legs of chairs to keep noise levels down
• Choosing the right lighting 
• Choosing the right equipment (e.g. projectors, computers) and placing it strategically to keep noise down 
• Considering sensory requirements when planning seating arrangements
• Ensuring good ventilation and encouraging staff not to wear very perfumed products to help with odour sensitivities
• Making adaptations to the school uniform to make it more comfortable
• Allowing students who need it to wear noise cancelling headphones, sunglasses or baseball caps etc.
• Offering assistive technology to help children with communication needs
• Offering ‘time out’ cards when needed
• Building movement breaks into the day
• Allowing stimming (repeated movement such as rocking or hand flapping) and fidget toys where possible
• Offering spaces for children to engage in something they love and where they can share this interest with others – for example a quiet hobbies corner
• Offer quiet spaces and monitored seating in a quieter area of the playground, where older pupils with a good understanding of neurodivergence take it in turns to provide a safe quiet space