One Size Fits None: Neurodiversity in Education

Neurodiversity is one of those terms I keep hearing more and more, especially from kids and teens who are trying to make sense of how they think and learn. The more I sit with it, the more it makes sense to me. At its core, it’s the idea that there isn’t just one “right” way for a brain to work. Differences like ADHD, autism, or dyslexia aren’t just problems that need to be fixed. They’re part of normal human variation. When I connect that to what Lisa Delpit talks about, along with Renkly and Bertolini in Shifting the Paradigm, it feels like part of a much bigger shift in how we think about education as a whole.

The concept itself came from Judy Singer, who was trying to challenge the stigma around autism and other neurological differences. That stood out to me because it completely reframes the conversation. Instead of asking “what’s wrong with this student,” it pushes us to ask what’s going on in the environment around them. That shift feels important. If a classroom is rigid, loud, or doesn’t allow for flexibility, it’s not going to work for a lot of students, not just ones who identify as neurodivergent.

That idea lines up a lot with what Shifting the Paradigm is getting at. Schools tend to have a narrow definition of what success looks like, and if you don’t fit into that, you’re automatically seen as struggling. That never sat right with me. Neurodiversity pushes back on that by pointing out that those same students often have real strengths, like creativity, deep focus, or just thinking about things in a different way. That connects to Delpit’s argument about valuing what students bring with them instead of focusing only on what they lack.

At the same time, I don’t think it’s as simple as just saying “everyone’s different” and leaving it there. Delpit’s idea of the “codes of power” still matters. Students are still expected to function in systems that weren’t designed with them in mind. That tension feels real to me. On one hand, students should be supported for who they are. On the other, they still need tools to navigate the systems they’re in, whether those systems are fair or not.

A lot of this comes down to environment. The more I think about it, the more it feels like many of the challenges students face aren’t about ability, but about how classrooms are set up. Strict schedules, one way of completing assignments, or even just overwhelming physical spaces can make learning harder than it needs to be. Shifting the Paradigm really pushes educators to look at those barriers and rethink them instead of expecting students to just adjust.

Another piece that stands out to me is how more students are starting to describe themselves as “neurodivergent.” I can see why that would matter. Having language to explain your experiences can make a big difference, especially when things have felt confusing or isolating. At the same time, I also recognize that formal diagnoses still play an important role when it comes to accessing support, so there’s a balance there that can’t be ignored.

Overall, neurodiversity doesn’t feel like a passing trend to me. It feels like a shift in perspective that actually challenges how we define learning and success. When I think about it alongside Delpit and Shifting the Paradigm, it really comes down to rethinking who our systems are built for and what it would look like to create classrooms that work for more students, not just the ones who already fit the mold.

Cooking as Care: Shared Plates, Shared Power

One of the most striking things about “Recipes for Resistance: Students, Families, and Teachers Confront ICE Through Community” is how it presents resistance in a way I had not really considered before. When I first started reading, I expected it to be heavy, and it is, because the reality these families are living in is incredibly serious. However, what surprised me most was how much of the response to that fear was rooted in connection, care, and even joy. That contrast is what made the article so emotional for me.

What stood out right away was the way the community chose to come together instead of pulling apart. In situations where fear is so present, it would make sense for people to isolate themselves or stay quiet. Instead, families, students, and teachers created spaces where people could gather, share food, and support one another. The idea of using recipes as a form of resistance really stayed with me. Food is not just something people eat. It carries culture, memory, and identity. When these families shared recipes, they were also sharing pieces of themselves, which felt like a powerful way of refusing to be reduced to fear.

This connects closely to Lisa Delpit’s “The Silenced Dialogue.” Delpit discusses how schools often fail to truly listen to the voices of families of color, especially when those voices do not align with dominant expectations of communication or knowledge. Reading this article, I kept thinking about how different this situation felt. Instead of being ignored or spoken for, families were actively shaping what was happening in their school community. Their knowledge and experiences were not treated as secondary, which is something Delpit argues is often the case. I also connected this to a short article posted on the site Edutopia. The school written about in Recipes for Resistance put multiple strategies from Edutopia in practice. Of the five strategies listed, the DC elementary skill utilized makinc communication accessible for all families, making efforts to lear about families' culture and identities, making it easy for families to participate in events, and helping students and families see themselves reflected in the school community.

Another idea that stood out to me was the role of teachers in the article. Delpit emphasizes how important it is for educators to actually listen to students and families rather than assuming they already know what is best. In this case, teachers were not trying to take control or position themselves as the sole authority. They were part of the community, supporting and participating in ways that felt collaborative rather than hierarchical. This felt important because it showed what it looks like when educators step back and make space for others to lead.

I was also really struck by the presence of joy throughout the article. Given the topic, I expected the focus to be almost entirely on fear and uncertainty. While those elements are definitely there, they are not the only thing present. There are moments of laughter, sharing, and warmth that feel just as important. This surprised me because it challenged my assumption that resistance in situations like this has to be serious and somber at all times. Instead, joy becomes part of the resistance itself. It shows that even in difficult circumstances, people can still create spaces where they feel connected and supported.

Delpit’s work also helped me think about this idea more deeply. She writes about how harmful it is when students are expected to leave parts of their identity behind in order to succeed in school. In this article, the opposite is happening. Families and students are bringing their full identities into the space, and those identities are being valued rather than suppressed. This creates a very different kind of environment, one where people are not just reacting to fear but actively building something meaningful together.

Overall, what made this article so impactful for me was not just the situation it described, but the way people responded to it. It showed that resistance does not always have to look like confrontation or protest in the traditional sense. It can also look like community, shared experiences, and making space for voices that are often ignored. That is what made it feel so powerful and, honestly, what made it so emotional to read.

Reading, Writing, and... Resistance?

In 1867, right after the Civil War, an editorial in Harper’s Weekly said that “the alphabet is abolitionist.” At the time, that wasn’t just a catchy line. Teaching formerly enslaved people to read and write was directly tied to freedom. Literacy meant access to power, knowledge, and participation in society. It was a big deal.

Reading “Right-Wing Legislators Are Trying to Stop Us from Teaching for Racial Justice. We Refuse.” by the Editors of Rethinking Schools, it’s hard not to think about how that idea still applies today. No one is trying to ban reading anymore, but there are real efforts to control what students are allowed to learn about history and society. It’s less about the alphabet now and more about what students are encouraged, or allowed, to understand about the world.

The article talks about laws popping up in different states that limit how teachers can discuss race, gender, and inequality. On the surface, these laws are framed as keeping classrooms fair and unbiased. That sounds fine at first. But the authors argue that the language in these laws is so vague that it ends up discouraging teachers from talking about anything meaningful at all. If you cannot say whether systems or institutions can be racist, then how do you explain why inequality exists?

Students definitely notice that inequality. They see differences in wealth, healthcare, education, and the criminal justice system. They ask questions, which is the whole point of school. But according to the article, these laws can make it risky for teachers to answer honestly. So instead of encouraging curiosity and critical thinking, the system starts to push toward silence or oversimplified answers.

What I found interesting is how the article connects this to bigger political patterns. The authors are basically saying this is not just about classrooms. It is tied to things like voter suppression and the underfunding of public schools. The idea is that limiting what students learn can shape how they think and participate later on. If people are not encouraged to question systems, those systems are less likely to change.

At the same time, the article is not all negative. It actually points out that this backlash might be happening because things are already shifting. After the racial justice protests in 2020, a lot of teachers started rethinking their lessons and including more about systemic racism and social movements. More students were engaging with these topics too. So in a way, these laws might be a response to that momentum.

The article highlights educators who are choosing to push back, even when there are risks involved. Some have signed pledges saying they will keep teaching the truth no matter what. Others have spoken out publicly. It shows that for a lot of teachers, this is not just about following rules. It is about doing what they believe is right for their students.

All of this brings up a bigger question about what education is supposed to be. Is it about keeping things comfortable and avoiding controversy, or is it about helping students think critically and understand complicated realities? The article clearly argues for the second option. Avoiding these topics does not protect students. It just leaves them less prepared to make sense of the world.

That original idea that “the alphabet is abolitionist” packs quite a punch. Education has always been connected to power. Now the issue is not whether students can read, but whether they are encouraged to think deeply about what they are reading and how it connects to real life. Teaching for racial justice, the way the article frames it, is really just part of helping students understand the world honestly. And a lot of educators are not willing to give that up.

Teach Out Preparation

CHOOSE A TEXT: Review your whole blog to remind yourself about what we have read so far in class. What texts have stayed with you so far? What articles inspire you?  What topic matters most to you in terms of your own work? Are there any of these texts that you would like to share with others in your life?  The text I want to share is the video “Colorblind or Colorbrave?” by Mellody Hobson and the article “Colorblindness is the New Racism” by Armstrong and Wildman

WHO DO YOU WANT TO SHARE WITH? Are there people in your life with whom you would really like to talk about these texts? Colleagues? Students? Family members? Friends? Children? I really enjoy discussing human differences with children. They are so innately curious, and they have the purity of seeking social interaction without ulterior motives. They are also in a period of intense discovery and I feel like kids ages 3-10 are the perfect group to hold this discussion with as a preventative measure. I also have some friends I feel need a reminder that pretending to be color blind is unhelpful to communities.

WHAT FORMAT MIGHT WORK FOR YOU? Individual interview? Small group discussion? Art activity? Professional development workshop? Poster for your office? Pamphlet to share? Lesson plan? Etc? I prefer small group discussion as it allows people to share their feelings in real time and fosters a sense of community. If I were to have a one on one discussion, I fear participants would feel singled out and judged. My goal is to create a safe space where vulnerable and honest conversation can be had.

The Illusion of Inclusion

One thing that stood out in both the Rhode Island Department of Education guidance and the Providence Public School Department guidelines is how much they emphasize nondiscrimination and equal access. On the surface, that sounds like a strong starting point because it sets a clear expectation that all students should be treated fairly. But it also made me wonder what “fair” actually looks like in practice, and whether just saying everyone has equal access is enough to actually make students feel safe and supported.

Both policies focus a lot on names, pronouns, and privacy. Respecting a student’s identity in everyday interactions is framed as essential, which makes sense, but it also feels like a pretty basic level of support. The Providence guidelines go further by requiring things like student support teams, but even that feels more like a system of procedures than real change. Just having a team or a plan does not necessarily mean students will actually experience school differently on a daily basis.

The focus on training and school climate connects to Queering Our Schools, which argues that schools should actively challenge heteronormativity. That comparison really highlights what is missing from the Rhode Island and Providence guidelines. They are mostly about preventing harm and making sure schools follow rules, but they do not really push schools to rethink the deeper assumptions about gender and identity that shape everyday experiences. Because of that, they can end up protecting students in theory without fully changing the environment those students are in.

The Editors of Rethinking Schools argue that schools must move beyond basic inclusion policies and actively challenge traditional norms around gender and sexuality in order to create truly equitable and transformative educational environments.

These texts connect to the idea of institutional power, especially how schools shape student experiences through rules, language, and expectations. The Rhode Island and Providence policies show how institutions can set minimum standards, but they also show the limits of that approach. Without bigger changes to curriculum, classroom conversations, and overall school culture, these policies risk being more about checking boxes than creating real change. There is also a clear connection to heteronormativity, which is the assumption that being straight and cisgender is the default. The policies try to make that system less harmful, but they do not really challenge it.

This also connects to broader civil rights issues. Policies like these are important, but history shows that just having rules in place does not automatically fix inequality. There can still be gaps in how they are enforced, and not every school will apply them the same way. Overall, these readings made me think about the difference between making schools less harmful and actually making them more inclusive in a meaningful way. Right now, these guidelines feel more like a starting point than something that will truly move the needle.

From "What's Wrong?" to "What's Strong?"

Shannon Renkly and Katherine Bertolini argue that school leaders must intentionally shift from deficit oriented thinking to asset based models by recognizing and building on the strengths of students, families, and communities in order to create more equitable and transformative schools.

In Shifting the Paradigm from Deficit Oriented Schools to Asset Based Models: Why Leaders Need to Promote an Asset Orientation in Our Schools, Renkly and Bertolini push readers to really rethink how schools talk about and respond to students. Instead of focusing on what students supposedly lack academically, socially, culturally, or economically, they encourage leaders to start with what students already bring to the table. The article makes it clear that this is not just about changing a few words in staff meetings. It is about changing mindsets, systems, and everyday leadership practices.

At the beginning of the text, the authors describe deficit thinking as a framework that treats students and families as “problems to be fixed.” That line really stood out to me because it feels uncomfortably accurate. Schools often use labels like “at risk,” “low performing,” or “behind,” and those labels quietly shape expectations. When that happens, the conversation becomes about remediation instead of possibility. It made me think about how common practices like tracking or grouping students by perceived ability might unintentionally (or intentionally) reinforce these deficit narratives.

In the middle of the article, the authors explain that an asset based approach requires leaders to intentionally identify and leverage the cultural wealth and strengths within their school communities. I liked that they emphasized the word intentionally because this kind of shift does not happen automatically. It takes effort and reflection. An asset orientation does not ignore challenges, but it starts from a different place. It starts by asking what students know, what they value, and what experiences they bring. That idea connects to the concept of funds of knowledge, where families and communities are seen as sources of expertise instead of obstacles.

By the end of the text, the focus turns strongly to leadership. The authors argue that leaders have to model asset based language and decision making if they want the culture of the school to change. If principals and district leaders still talk about students through a deficit lens during data meetings or policy discussions, then the broader culture will stay the same. 

Coloring Inside the Corporate Lines

Sal Khan argues that the traditional school system is broken because it values efficiency, standardization, and testing over real understanding, creativity, and individual student growth.

In Part 2, The Broken Model, of The One World Schoolhouse, Sal Khan explains how the modern education system was designed to handle large numbers of students, not to support how people actually learn. In addition, the Prussian model that school in the US is based off of was created to create a political and employee hive mind, resulting in waves of young people ready to enter the workforce without questioning "the powers that be." At the beginning of this section, Khan describes how schools ended up operating like factories, moving students along at the same pace regardless of whether they are ready. One comment that stood out to me early on was his comparison of students to products on an assembly line, because it made the system feel impersonal and more focused on output than learning.

In the middle of the reading, Khan shifts his focus to grades, testing, and tracking. He explains how students are often grouped or labeled based on early performance, which can limit their opportunities later on. This part made me wonder whether these labels reflect ability or just timing. If a student struggles early, the system tends to treat that struggle as permanent, even though they might thrive with more time or a different approach. This section of the text made me think about the oft debated different learning styles and their effectiveness when it comes to teaching. Sometimes when information is taught one way, it is difficult to grasp for certain students, and a different approach is needed to help the information be understood. 

Toward the end of the assigned reading, Khan discusses the “Tracking Creativity” subsection and how the system often measures only what is easy to test. He points out that creativity, curiosity, and problem-solving are pushed aside because they are harder to quantify. This stood out to me because it explains why many students who think differently or creatively feel out of place in school. Ending the section this way reinforces Khan’s idea that the broken model does not just fail academically, but also discourages creativity and independent thinking.