Katie Koullas, CEO of Yellow Ladybugs, shares her insights into supporting autistic or neurodivergent students in the classroom and beyond.

A note about language

The language we use holds a lot of power. It can shape the way your students see themselves and their place in the world. It can shape the way they see people with different brains, bodies and interests. This article uses identity-first language – referring to ‘autistic students’ rather than ‘students with autism’. We also avoid using functioning labels (such as ‘high’ and ‘low’ functioning). This reflects our community’s preference – where being autistic is an identity, not a pathology or condition to be fixed or cured. And where we can celebrate and affirm the strengths of different neurotypes while also recognising the challenges of participating in processes, systems and spaces that weren’t designed with our community in mind.

I remember the day that my daughter wasn’t invited to a birthday party. A student in her class was handing out invitations to all the children and she side-stepped my daughter, continuing to hand out the cards to others in the schoolyard. My heart broke for her as I saw her face drop, her shoulders hunch and her slow, heavy steps back towards the car. That day, determined to give her a different experience to one of exclusion or confusion, I made a plan to celebrate autistic girls just like her. I didn’t want her to have to mask or contort herself to be able to attend a birthday party that she would most likely find overwhelming – I wanted her to have an experience where the space, the guests, the food and the treats were designed with girls like her in mind.

At that first event, which we ran at the National Gallery of Victoria, I remember seeing families crying as their daughters played side by side with other kids their age. I remember seeing the expressions on the children’s faces as they looked around and saw other kids with headphones, with messy hair, with special interests that complemented theirs. I remember noticing that with the low lighting and the quiet sounds, with zero expectation as to how they should behave, the children felt safe to explore and connect in their own ways. And I knew I was onto something.

Eight years on – and now with my own late Autism/ADHD diagnosis in hand – we’ve continued to grow, not just providing events for Yellow Ladybugs to attend, but into a thriving autistic-led organisation delivering education, training, advocacy and projects in support of autistic girls, women and gender diverse individuals. We represent this community because, due to bias in the diagnostics and supports as well as our capacity to mask our autistic traits to fit in, autistic girls, women and gender diverse individuals are often misdiagnosed or missed altogether.

Through this experience, I have talked with thousands of autistic individuals about their experience both in and out of the classroom. We have shared this wisdom with hundreds of families, support professionals, carers and teachers – believing that centring the lived experiences of actually autistic individuals is the key to challenging harmful stereotypes and creating spaces and systems where the wellbeing of autistic students is supported.

What is overwhelmingly apparent when listening to these stories is that supporting autistic and neurodivergent students doesn’t have to be overly complicated. And that many of their insights, once implemented, have the possibility of supporting ALL students to thrive in the classroom. While each individual has different profiles and therefore needs (in fact, many of us can have high support needs one day and not the next), there are discernible themes that emerge when the voices of autistic students are acknowledged. Equality in rights and access. Safety. Compassion. Curiosity. And choice. These are the principles of neuro-affirming support that we advocate for in the classroom and beyond and, we believe, should provide the basis for teachers, administrators and policymakers when considering supporting our community and their families.

A while back, we asked some autistic students to share what they wish their teachers knew, some of their responses are included below.

‘I wish my teacher knew that I needed to learn through action.’

‘I wish my teacher knew that I took Hall Duty to stay inside away from social situations.’

‘I wish my teacher knew that I could already read (well) but I was too shy to read aloud. And that didn’t mean I wasn’t smart.’

‘I wish my teacher knew that I had no one to partner with.’

‘I wish my teacher knew that me not speaking didn’t mean I had nothing to say.’

‘I wish my teacher knew how much energy it takes just to show up.’

‘I wish my teacher knew that just because I’m quiet and well behaved that doesn’t mean I’m okay and not dying on the inside.’

‘I wish my teacher knew how desperately I wanted to be chosen for things. My arm ached from stretching my hand up so high.’

‘I wish my teachers knew I’m not trying to be difficult, I’m trying to survive in a world built against me.’

‘I wish my teacher knew how much I was struggling. That their “quiet dux” was secretly DROWNING.’

‘I wish my teacher knew that I was being who I thought she wanted me to be.’

‘I wish my teacher knew that because I’m quiet, have an IQ of 138 and read very well, I still struggle to complete assignments after eight hours in school.’

‘I wish my teacher knew that I didn’t get the handbook. I felt, said and did everything in chaos. And when you told me nobody loved me, I believed you.’

‘I wish my teacher knew that it can take me longer to learn new skills – so please be more patient with me.’

‘I wish my teacher knew how helpful it was to have visual demonstrations of things. That not all kids learn the same way.’

So how do we practically respond to these stories – in settings where teachers and administrators may already feel stretched? We’ve found in the past that prescribing specific strategies for schools can be challenging. Each of the settings you operate within will be different and your students will be individual in their interest, profiles and support needs meaning that prescribing, for example, sensory rooms may not really address the underlying needs for safety and connection of autistic students. Instead, we encourage schools and teachers to consider committing to the following principles – the basis of which will allow for individual decisions to be made about classroom and curriculum design as well as day to day management of the classroom.

First, we recommend that individually and as a collective, schools commit to the ongoing practice of understanding bias and unpacking ableism. Ableism is conscious or unconscious discrimination, judgement or bias against people with disabilities that positions them as ‘other’ or compares them against a set of norms that might be described as typical or normal. It might feel difficult to acknowledge that, because of the societal norms, we all have ableist ideas or perceptions that impact how we see autistic or neurodivergent individuals, but it is not any one person’s fault. It is a result of the attitudes and behaviours that many of us grow up believing – many of which are modelled by those around us. Continuing to be curious about our perceptions and attitudes of those with different neurotypes allows us to open up to hearing the lived experience of our autistic students with more compassion. It allows us to start to challenge stereotypes – for example, that autism looks the same in every individual. Or that autistic people all have the same support needs. That autistic people are all gifted. That girls can’t be autistic. Or that autistic people always also have an intellectual or learning disability. This paves the way not just for a more inclusive classroom, but for a more inclusive society, where we don’t necessarily see disabled people, but individuals who are disabled by systems that weren’t designed with them in mind.

Second, we recommend that teachers develop an understanding of polyvagal theory and begin to get an understanding of their autistic students’ stress responses. We know that autistic and neurodivergent people spend more time in the fight/flight/freeze[GG1]  responses. We also know that many of the behaviours that teachers and parents may find challenging are a result of autonomic nervous system responses, trauma or neurodivergent trauma (the trauma resulting from living with a different neurotype in a neurotypical world). Beginning to look beyond the behaviour and instead focusing on the young person’s need for relational and environmental safety is essential. Traditional approaches to rewards or punishment based on a behavioural model are harmful for our community – instead, we encourage working with the young person and their support professionals to understand and reframe challenging behaviour, and create pathways for them to return to safety. Know that in many cases with autistic girls, young women and gender diverse young people, their struggles may not always be externally expressed in big behaviours, but instead directed internally. Eating disorders, anxiety, self-harm, social struggles, overwhelm with schoolwork or school can’t (being unable to attend school) may co-occur with autism and/or ADHD and it can often be the high-masking students who may need support as well.

Last, we encourage teachers to develop relationships with their autistic students. Autistic and ADHD students in particular can have deep, passionate special interests. When learning is scaffolded around these interests, you may find that you both help the individual feel more acknowledged and included (creating safety), but that they may also learn skills and concepts more easily. It may not be that the student isn’t grasping something or is delayed; it may just be that you have to work together to find out the ways that their brain likes to process information, and what environments are optimal for that student to learn within. This includes working together to work out what sensory supports need to be put in place. Developing this positive regard for the unique ways that autistic and neurodivergent brains work, highlighting their strengths while also acknowledging the challenges can build confidence and esteem, which in turn has a positive effect on learning.

Implementing these strategies and committing to these principles will ensure that your classroom is neuro-affirming and trauma-informed not just for your current cohort of students, but for many future students as well.

Katie is the passionate creator and CEO of Yellow Ladybugs – an autistic led charity dedicated to supporting autistic girls, women, and gender diverse individuals. Being part of a neurodivergent family, and accessing a range of mental health services, Katie will share both her lived experience and represent the wider community, in order to deliver much needed change in this space.

 Katie has presented at many conferences, been nominated for Australian of the Year for her advocacy and worked hard to create systemic change with the state and federal government to better support neurodivergent individuals. Her career has been a windy road of discovery, like many fellow ADHDers can relate to, including professional roles as accountant and tax advisor, marketing and events manager, HR and recruitment advisor and even a university teacher!
 But her favourite role has been working alongside her neurodivergent team and helping YLB grow to make as big of an impact in the community and for her community as possible. She is also passionately obsessed with cat and kittens, anything that sparkles and Golden Girls.