BCEdAccess Society

I have heard from people in positions of power that if people don’t complain, the system assumes everything is fine. If people are not happy, they are certain they will hear about it. Well, the education system is not fine. By making our stories and experiences known to those in positions of power, it can make our experience count. Otherwise, to the system, it’s like it never happened.

The Ombudsperson investigation into exclusion is an example of how filing complaints is a form of advocacy.

Writing letters to the Ministry of Education and Child Care can be very powerful. We are the ones with lived experience. Without us telling them what it’s like from our perspective, what our children are experiencing, how are they to know? They work in their offices, but they aren’t in our children’s classrooms. They aren’t in our homes when our kids come home and have meltdowns from trying to survive school.

If you decide to write a letter to the Ministry of Education and Child Care, you may want to consider cc: the Human Rights Commissioner. Many of our children are dealing with systemic discrimination. We need everyone to pay attention to what is happening in education.

This parent wanted to make their experience and perspective count. They have written an advocacy letter to the Ministry of Education and Child Care. I am so thankful they have allowed us to share this with all of you. Thank you, for your advocacy!

LETTER TO MOE – POSTED ANONYMOUSLY

As a result of our experiences with the school system, I am writing to express my deep concern about the systemic ableism and lack of adequate support for neurodivergent students in British Columbia’s public education system. Despite public commitments to diversity and inclusion, neurodivergent students face marginalization, exclusion, and disciplinary disparities that undermine their rights, well-being, and educational success. Urgent systemic reforms are needed to create truly inclusive, respectful, and supportive school environments.

Recognizing and Valuing Neurodiversity

Neurodiversity, which includes autism, ADHD, dyslexia, dyspraxia, and other cognitive variations, is a natural and valuable part of human diversity (Singer, 1999). Yet, our education system often frames these differences through a deficit-based lens. Neurodivergent students are often expected to conform to neurotypical norms rather than being supported through inclusive practices that honour their ways of processing and engaging with the world. They are told to sit still in prolonged assemblies, unable to move to regulate, and labelled ‘naughty’, or ‘disrespectful’ when their impulses to regulate result in fidgeting, movement, or chattiness.

As Dr. Stephen Shore famously stated, “If you’ve met one person with autism, you’ve met one person with autism.” The individuality of neurodivergent students demands flexibility and respect in educational environments and is sorely lacking. This lack of consideration leads children to ‘mask’, or to repress their own needs, urges, and wants, simply to fit into a system that shames and punishes them if they step out of what is deemed ‘normal’ and ‘accepted’. 

Addressing Systemic Ableism in Schools

Ableism is defined as discrimination, prejudice, or a systemic bias against individuals with disabilities (Loeppky, 2023). Casual ableism exists throughout our schools; it is not an occasional oversight — it is systemic and ongoing. Practices such as informal exclusions, isolation, denial of participation, and lack of accommodations persist in many BC schools. In 2023, BCEdAccess Society documented over 1,300 parent-reported incidents of exclusion of students with disabilities across BC schools, including shortened days, unsafe restraint, and barriers to basic participation. I suspect that this is scraping the surface of the true number of incidents that occurred in BC, and given my knowledge of the lack of staff education regarding the needs of these children, the societal and systemic expectations for them to conform,  and the inflexibility of the school system – and many of those who work within it, I suspect this number has increased in 2025.

These exclusionary practices violate students’ rights to education and safety and contradict Canada’s obligations under the UN Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities (UNCRPD, 2006). How can this be allowed to continue? They have the right to be respected, heard, included, and supported in achieving their fullest educational potential. The system’s tendency to treat these children as lesser individuals impacts their sense of identity, sense of self,  self-confidence, and motivation to succeed.

Disproportionate Discipline and Exclusion

Neurodivergent students are significantly more likely to face discipline, suspensions, school-based policing, and absenteeism than their peers (BCEdAccess Society, 2023; John et al., 2022). School staff do not appear to have consistent appreciation and understanding that behaviour is communication. As such, “disruptive” behaviour is again viewed as the child purposely being disruptive, violent, inappropriate, noisy, or restless. There appears to be little understanding that behaviour is a means to communicate distress, sensory overload, or unmet support needs (Garey, 2023). Time and again, my son has been blamed, and time and again I have asked what the antecedent was, and no one knows… they only know the ‘bad’ behaviour that is always the focus.

Research from Inclusion BC (2022) and Opini (2022) highlighted that autistic and ADHD students in BC are disproportionately excluded, both formally and informally, without due process or restorative approaches. Again, we come back to the impact of this on the child and the narrative that they are left with; I’m the bad one, I’m the problem; I’m at home while the other kids are at school – what does that make me? Understand the impact on these kids and families if parents need to take more and more time off work to be with their child, and because they need to take more and more time off, stress increases, emotions in the house increase – yet the child is expected to go back to school, sit still, and regulate. And when they don’t, they are to blame.

Silencing of Children Through Power Dynamics

The structural power imbalance between adults and children means that children, especially those who are neurodivergent, are frequently excluded from decisions about their support. These dynamics silence the lived experience of the child and perpetuate a model where children are seen as objects of intervention rather than participants in their learning journey. Throughout all but those recent incidents at my son’s school, his account, thoughts, or perspectives were rarely sought from school staff. The only reason they have been of late is my advocacy and insistence for the staff to do so. Canada has ratified the UN Convention on the Rights of the Child (1989), which upholds the right of children to express their views in matters affecting them and to have those views taken seriously. A commitment to inclusion must also mean inclusion of student voices.

Research by Wood (2020) and Kapp (2020) also shows that autistic children in particular are at heightened risk of being misunderstood, mischaracterized, or blamed for behaviors arising from distress. I have experienced firsthand the dismissal and disbelief from responsible adults when my son reported discomfort or mistreatment. I can imagine this is exacerbated in cases where a child’s communication differs from neurotypical norms. The cultural assumption that adults are inherently more reliable narrators leads to missed opportunities for early intervention and justice.

It also teaches our children lifelong lessons: “my voice doesn’t matter”, “I don’t matter”, “if I stay quiet, then I’ll be safe”. Abuse thrives in silence. When educational environments dismiss children’s reports or needs, particularly those of neurodiverse students, they risk reinforcing trauma responses such as fawning (Vermani, 2025). Without intentional efforts to elevate student voice, especially from marginalized neurotypes, schools may unknowingly perpetuate these harmful dynamics.

Lack of Transparency Between School Administration and Parents

Parents frequently report being the last to know when their child is struggling, removed from class, or subjected to seclusion or restraint. In kindergarten, my son was banned from playing with any of the girls in his class by an EA who created this rule. No one told us. My son casually remarked one Friday evening that this rule had been made, commenting how unfair he thought it was. BCEdAccess Society (2023) found that many families in BC receive no formal documentation when children are excluded from class, and some are even pressured to keep their children home without formal suspension procedures. This lack of consistent and clear communication and the use of vague language around incidents undermine trust and hinder families’ ability to advocate effectively (Buchanan & Clark, 2019). Understandably, parents feel uncertain about trusting the system or staff to care for their children when they do not have clear information or an understanding of the system. Yet, we still have to send our children back there every day.

I have personally discussed these concerns multiple times with my son’s principal. After each school-based incident, I have requested follow-up information describing the steps taken to prevent recurrence, only to be told that this information is confidential. Consider how it feels for a parent whose child is repeatedly ignored, dismissed, or shamed, when they seek assurance that a respectful and supportive environment will be ensured, they are met with confidentiality and uncertainty. The resulting feelings of guilt, worry, and frustration are deeply exhausting.

Building True Family-School Partnerships

In my experience, families of neurodivergent students are often treated as adversaries rather than collaborators. We have been positioned as allies of the school team, but when an incident occurs, it always appears to become a ‘them versus us’ situation; one where we are not told what happens behind the scenes, or where a principal stands beside her staff and tells you to “think with your head and not your heart”. For most of my son’s experience, my feeling is that we have been perceived as obstacles rather than collaborators. This adversarial dynamic can create barriers to effective communication, diminish trust, and ultimately hinder the student’s educational experience.

Research consistently shows that when families are engaged, students do better. Kim (2022) and Cosso et al. (2022) found that family involvement is a key factor in student success, leading to better grades, improved social skills, and higher attendance. Epstein’s (2011) model also highlights how important strong connections between families, schools, and communities are for a child’s growth. A paradigm shift is needed to position parents and caregivers as expert partners in their child’s education, recognizing their unique knowledge of the child’s strengths, challenges, and needs.

To truly support neurodivergent students and their families, schools need to move away from focusing only on deficits and instead adopt trauma-informed, family-centered approaches. These recognize that many neurodivergent kids and their families have faced marginalization or tough experiences within the education system. Family-centered models build trust by valuing families’ perspectives, working together on education plans, and offering supports that respect culture and identity (CanChild, 2002; Maynard et al., 2019)

Inadequate Education of School Staff About Neurodiversity

Most educators receive minimal, if any, formal training in neurodiversity, trauma-informed practices, or inclusive pedagogy and rely on self-directed learning through books, websites, and personal experiences to understand and support neurodivergent students (Schatz et al., 2021). Adam W. McCrimmon’s (2015) study discusses the inadequacies in Canadian teacher education programs concerning inclusive education, emphasizing the need for improved training to support students with diverse needs, including those who are neurodivergent.

Furthermore, research involving Canadian teacher candidates reveals a pervasive sense of lack of preparedness when it comes to teaching students with developmental disabilities and neurodivergence (Kumar & Hamer, 2012). Many candidates report lacking both theoretical knowledge and practical experience, which negatively impacts their confidence and perceived efficacy in inclusive classrooms. This gap in teacher preparation highlights a systemic issue where inclusive education remains more an ideal than a practical reality (Mintz et al., 2021).

The consequences extend beyond the classroom. In our family experience, when educators lack the necessary knowledge and skills to recognize and accommodate neurodivergence, our son has experienced misunderstanding, marginalization, bullying, and unmet educational needs, which have contributed to increased anxiety, limited self-worth, and academic underachievement. Despite his intelligence, he truly believes he is stupid—a heartbreaking belief, especially knowing that the education system and those within it have helped shape that view. Professional development needs to become mandatory and emphasize practical strategies for inclusive teaching and neurodiversity-affirming practices that foster understanding and acceptance. This approach could create classrooms where all students feel seen, supported, and empowered – and motivated – to succeed.

Intersectionality: The Compounded Impact of Marginalization

As a neurodivergent child, my son already navigates a school system that often struggles to understand his needs. For students who are also racialized, Indigenous, LGBTQIA2S+, or from low-income families, these barriers multiply. While my son does not hold all of these identities, schools must recognize how overlapping forms of discrimination compound harm. Systemic racism, settler colonialism, and classism intersect with ableism to create particularly harmful and exclusionary school experiences. These intersecting oppressions intensify feelings of isolation, misunderstanding, and marginalization, undermining both academic success and emotional well-being.

As Kimberlé Crenshaw’s foundational work on intersectionality (1991) makes clear, single-axis approaches to equity fail to capture the layered realities many students face. Recent research reinforces the need for intersectional frameworks in education to challenge overlapping systems of oppression and foster truly inclusive environments (Varsik & Gorochovskij, 2023). The emotional impact of intersecting marginalizations on neurodivergent students can be profound. Many experience chronic stress, anxiety, and lowered self-esteem as they move through systems that fail to acknowledge their full humanity. Yet when they react, or communicate through behaviour, they are the problem, they are seen to be at fault, rather than as children asking for help in a system that does not yet know how to listen.

Mental Health Impacts of Educational Exclusion

Neurodivergent students often face significant mental health challenges stemming from systemic failures within educational environments. Behaviours stemming from sensory overload or communication differences are frequently misunderstood as intentional misconduct (“bad behaviour”), which leads to punitive disciplinary measures rather than supportive interventions. I see this play out constantly with my son, where his actions are treated as deliberate defiance instead of what they most likely are: signs of distress, overwhelm, or a need for connection.

This approach not only overlooks the underlying needs of neurodivergent students but also fuels a cycle of exclusion and psychological harm—manifesting as school avoidance, heightened anxiety, depression, and trauma symptoms (John et al., 2022; Kane, 2025). These outcomes are not isolated personal struggles; they reflect systemic inequities and a persistent failure to accommodate the diversity of human neurodevelopment. The pervasive stigma and misunderstanding surrounding neurodivergent behaviour further intensify feelings of isolation and distress for both students and their families (Kane, 2025; Milner et al., 2025). As a parent, it is painful to know that the lens through which my son is seen so often misses the child I know—the one trying his best to make sense of a world that rarely makes room for him.

Arslan (2021) emphasized that a strong sense of belonging within schools is one of the most powerful protective factors for children’s mental health. When students are seen, heard, and accepted for who they are, they are more likely to experience emotional safety, build resilience, and engage meaningfully in learning. I want that for my son; not just to survive school, but to feel like he belongs there, to thrive.

Unfortunately, research suggests that many neurodivergent students in Canada do not experience this sense of inclusion. A 2024 report by Children First Canada found that children and youth who report low levels of school belonging are significantly more likely to experience depression, anxiety, self-harm, and suicidal ideation. These risks are further amplified for those who experience additional marginalization based on race, gender identity, disability, or socioeconomic status. This tells us that inclusion is not just a moral imperative; it is essential to safeguarding youth mental health and preventing long-term harm.

The Promise of Universal Design for Learning (UDL)

UDL is a research-backed framework that builds flexibility into curriculum and environments, supporting all learners without needing retroactive accommodations. Although supported by CAST (2023) and federal accessibility strategies, BC’s implementation is inconsistent and lacks accountability.

Several barriers hold BC back: there’s no enforceable mandate for UDL, limited professional development for educators, competing priorities within the education system, and fragmented, uneven adoption across districts. Additionally, a culture focused on reactive accommodations rather than proactive inclusion persists.

BC has a clear opportunity to lead by creating stronger policies, investing in training and resources, and partnering authentically with families and neurodivergent communities. Without this, it is likely that many students and their families will continue to face avoidable barriers to success.

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I urge the Ministry to:

1. Begin by mandating neurodiversity and disability inclusion training for educators and school personnel in select districts, to expand this requirement province-wide within three years.
2. Phase in the implementation of Universal Design for Learning (UDL) principles across curricula and instructional planning, supported by ongoing professional development and appropriate resource allocation.
3. Develop and require transparent and timely communication protocols with families regarding exclusions, challenges, and supports, starting with a standardized framework that can be adapted locally.
4. Establish clear and accessible channels to hear and act on student voices, prioritizing neurodivergent youth, through student advisory groups or feedback mechanisms, with pilot programs in diverse school settings.
5. Address intersecting forms of discrimination by partnering with community organizations to support neurodivergent students from marginalized backgrounds and integrate equity-focused practices in schools.
6. Create robust accountability mechanisms to monitor and eliminate ableist practices, beginning with data collection and annual reporting to ensure transparency and progress.

As a health professional, I understand the dynamics of power and oppression, the importance of relationship and co-regulation, the neurophysiology of trauma and how this impacts learning, the necessity of culturally responsive teaching to honour diverse identities, the role that executive function supports in fostering student autonomy, and the critical need for ongoing staff training to build neuroinclusive educational environments.

While I hold this understanding as a clinician and as a parent, I also recognize that most families are navigating these challenges without the same lens or language to make sense of what’s happening.

Imagine being a parent who doesn’t have these understandings—no clear explanation for why your child struggles, no framework to make sense of the trauma or the behaviours that others see as “problems.” You might feel isolated and unheard, trapped in a system that dismisses your child’s experience and your family’s pain.

Regardless of a parent’s education, understanding, or support, can you imagine carrying the constant weight of advocacy, the fear that your child’s needs will never be met, and the heartbreak of feeling like you’re failing them—even when you’re doing everything you can. Every day brings anxiety and frustration as you fight to be seen and understood, while watching your child face judgement, exclusion, or punishment. Can you imagine?

I respectfully urge the Ministry to take meaningful, systemic action to address these injustices and create an education system where neurodivergent children are not merely tolerated but genuinely included, valued, and empowered. The time for incremental change has passed. Our children deserve better—now. I welcome the opportunity to support these efforts and would be happy to connect further.