For me, the school day is not an opportunity for growth, but an exercise in survival. I am told that schools are inclusive environments, yet for those whose brains function differently, my “inclusion” often feels like an afterthought. This lasting feeling makes ADHD in school so much worse, and with the amount of time spent in the building it is hard to ignore.
I’m often told I am too smart to need accommodations, as if high intelligence somehow rejects a neurological disability. Success shouldn’t be measured by the fact I made a passing grade but instead measured by the tools I was given to complete the task.
Every administration’s primary solution to the complicated needs of ADHD is to hand me a 504 plan prematurely. These documents are intended to be a lifeline. A 504 plan could provide me with “extended time” or “preferential seating,” but it doesn’t do anything to change the fundamental way in which our classrooms are designed to accommodate the neurotypical mind.
What I need is proactive ideas. True inclusion doesn’t look like a special exception made for me. It looks like a classroom with multiple ways of learning. If the ”standard way” of teaching only works for one type of brain, then I need a change in teaching to allow myself to learn in a way that will imprint the same as typical brain types.
Once the signatures are dry on the legal paperwork, it feels like that’s it. I ask for any more accommodations, I’m taking advantage or being lazy. In my experience, it is a minor gesture to offer an extra thirty minutes on a test when the entire curriculum is delivered in a way that ignores how my brain processes information. I need people to validate the problems that I am having and then work with me directly to fix the problem and enact a successful district-wide solution, so that I am not the only one that got help for something that others may be silently struggling with.
Then there’s the problem of advocacy. I have been struggling with advocacy and ADHD makes it even harder because it’s been a recurring issue since first grade. When I do get the courage to come and advocate for myself, it is increasingly important that I don’t go unheard and the problem is actually changed.
School is a struggle—even with accommodation. With ADHD I still have to go home and try two times harder than everyone else, still not understanding classes and getting overstimulated. This “unfair”, or “greedy” mentality reduces me to a set of symptoms that need to be managed rather than a student who deserves to be taught. The change of perception needs to be required all the time no matter the problem.
When I still struggle despite my many accommodations, the blame is almost always placed on my “lack of effort” rather than the system’s lack of flexibility. True accommodation requires a shift in culture, not just a list of bullet points on a PDF. It requires a real change in assignments, not just extra time supporting the idea that now I get a head start. I’m not asking for a head start, I’m asking for the obstacles to be removed from the track.
Inclusion means recognizing that sensory overload is a physical reality, not a behavioral choice. It means understanding that executive dysfunction is not the same thing as laziness. It means that teachers should be required to take a course on how to accommodate and work with neurodivergent kids—learning to mediate and explore an alternative and approach, instead of judging or jumping to conclusions. BVSD has taken an incentive to make sure that teachers get a license in working with different learning tactics and redo it every 7 years. This is the action that needs to be seen word wide. This training requires at least 10 hours working with neurodivergent kids and is only part of the change I need.
The burden of self-advocacy is placed entirely on my shoulders despite me already being exhausted by trying to fit into a neurotypical mold. I shouldn’t have to put up a fight to be understood by the people who interact with me every single day. If school is really a place where every student gets to succeed, it needs to stop trying to fix neurodivergence. I need a system that provides understanding and accommodations, not just a piece of paper stating that I’m allowed to sit in the front of the classroom.
