IN OUR OWN WORDS: TIME FOR RADICAL CHANGE BY ASSEMBLY PARENT MEMBER
Time for Radical Change: A rights- based, radical rethink of our education system is long overdue, says Assembly Parent
I joined the Scottish Assembly of Parents and Carers because of the passion and distinct view I could bring as a parent and carer of two children with additional needs, including autistic spectrum conditions, ADHD, higher order thinking, dyslexia, Movement Coordination Disorder, sensory challenges, plus post infection presentations including PANS PANDAS and Long Covid.
The boys’ symptoms waxed and waned over and above their existing disabilities. How could this be? Strep and COVID led to crippling anxiety, at times loss of mobility, loss of sensation from the neck down, regression in handwriting, OCD and intrusive thoughts.
Having been propelled into home education, pre-lockdown, I learned more from my children about society than I could ever have taught them. I also learned about the importance of family, the link between connection, creativity and innovation, and that it truly takes a village to raise a child.
At school, I could not believe what the boys experienced when they were first unable to access their right to education. At times they were sat on their own, unable to eat with others, pulled forcibly into school, sat outside classrooms or left with a peer rather than an adult when risk was high. There was little differentiation, panic attacks were played down as embarrassment about walking into school with mum, sessions were cancelled, and access to CAMHS and dyslexia support was unavailable. Every step felt like a battle just to secure resources or explain difference.
What was I seeing in daily interactions. A by-product of mainstreaming or an unfortunate series of events? We cannot deny the existence of these experiences in the findings of the parent carer assembly report.
My family experienced the consequences of a system under pressure: undue strain on teaching staff (my son coined the phrase ‘smiley coercion’), loss of autonomy, a rigid curriculum that stifled creativity, and delayed, inconsistent, or absent additional support. My children ended up in corridors or redundant changing rooms — no wonder they didn’t want to get out of the car which had increasingly become their safe space — from ‘corridor kids’ to ‘car kids’.
At one parents’ evening, when I outlined evidence-based approaches we were using at home (attachment-based, trauma-informed, play-based and neuroaffirming strategies), a member of staff suggested perhaps I was ‘doing too much’. How can parents win?
It is important to say that there are always teachers who go the extra mile for children and families. Many care deeply and want the very best for their pupils. But they too are working within systems that constrain what they can realistically provide.
Despite the barriers, the children still had an intrinsic desire to learn. In fact, all children do. They want to connect, to play, to explore ideas. Why would an education system stifle this and spend taxpayers’ money doing so? A significant proportion of our children are being failed in our wealthy society. Who stands to gain from this?
Following lockdowns, something unexpected happened. My son’s learning experience and mental health improved. Suddenly many other children were learning from home too. Colleagues were juggling similar realities. It became an unexpected levelling experience, not isolation, but a sense of collective adaptation. A lightning bolt through the bureaucracy.
I joined the parent carer assembly at this point because many of my assumptions had been challenged, both as a parent and as a professional.
For years I had internalised the belief that absence from school must signal something families were doing wrong. Yet I experienced firsthand the trauma a school environment can create for children whose needs are not identified or met for a multitude of reasons.
Like many others, I had believed school was the only path to wellbeing, opportunity and future success. I learned instead that children learn in many ways. Parents are their first teachers. The curriculum is only one set of learning experiences — it is not the whole picture. I also witnessed the power of peer connection. Our greatest assets during this difficult time were the relationships our children maintained with other young people, online and in person. Children cut through adult agendas; they meet one another exactly where they are.
Adults in education currently hold most of the power. Power-sharing is not easy in large, bureaucratic systems working under scrutiny and declining resources. This can play out in cultures, in blame, and in who holds the pen in meetings, as well as what story is told, or not told.
Schools need parents and carers. We bring knowledge, resources and strengths. We know our children better than anyone and are almost always their strongest advocates. Our children’s behaviour is communication — an algorithm pointing us towards the conditions in which they learn best.
I also learned how policy agendas around attendance can carry implicit judgments. If a child were running away from home or avoiding caregivers, social work would rightly investigate. Yet when a child disengages from school, the responsibility often remains with the parent, having got them to school - remains responsible, even though we have little control over the resources available or the child’s sense of safety in that environment.
In these circumstances, families are often told to build ‘resilience’ in the face of barriers such as large class sizes, sensory overwhelm, literacy-dominated learning, and limited time for connection, play and creativity.
With additional support needs increasing exponentially, we need a radical overhaul of our priorities so that all children and young people can learn and thrive.
This must include consistent, secure relationships for learners, holistic approaches that make Getting it Right for Every Child meaningful and deliverable, and inclusive school building design that works for everyone - smaller, quieter spaces and environments designed with sensory needs in mind.
Above all, our education system must be designed and co-produced with children, young people and their families, so that their voices and rights genuinely shape the future of learning.