Sixteen years ago, I stood in a classroom, wide-eyed bushytailed and relatively unacquainted with the concept of neurodivergence. It was the first day of the school year and my second assignment as the lead practitioner in a classroom. Arriving well ahead of my students and their parents, I surveyed the room- a brightly lit repurposed carport, flushed with a sidewalk that bordered a moderately busy street. After weeks of preparation this semi-enclosed space was now teeming with a range of colourful mobiles, charts, and other early childhood paraphernalia. What plans I had for this group of three-year-olds. I was confident that I would have a well-managed group, and that every student would leave my class meeting the expected targets - it was going to be a great year. I felt it, believed it, anticipated it - and then came Kori (pseudonym), a slender three-year-old, a little taller than most in the year group …and my plans derailed.
Among the first things I noticed about Kori was his awkwardly fleeting gaze. His moods were erratic, often switching like an air dancer in a restless breeze. The same Kori who was seated one minute, rolling his arms and giggling alongside his peers while reciting the days of the week, was seen the next minute screaming, overturning chairs, clasping his ears, and crying uncontrollably to the point of hyperventilation. In these moments, activities were disrupted, the other students would stare in alarm, and I would feel helpless. Our initial assumption was that Kori’s behaviour was due to permissive parenting, and he was just being “spoilt.” After a cycle of good and bad days, I began to entertain the idea that I was just not a good fit for him. Kori eventually left my class and later the school. I remained troubled by what I felt was my inability to do more for him.
Some years later, as a final year student in a Special Education programme, I was assigned to the special education department of a corporate area school. I was informed by my cooperating teacher that three of the students in my group had an Autism diagnosis. Upon entering the room, I saw a familiar face, it was Kori taller and stockier and still a bit awkward in his social responses. I taught him math and language for the next three months and the experience was gratifying. I felt redeemed.
As I reflected on our earlier encounter, I wondered what may have been the function of Kori’s behaviour those many years ago. Was he in distress due to a hypersensitivity to a particular stimulus in my classroom environment? Was he frustrated because of my inability to understand his communication attempts? Did I inadvertently introduce a situation to him that was so unfamiliar that he was stuck in a moment of indecision without the skills to navigate the change? This is against the backdrop that individuals on the autism spectrum may experience sensory overload, social communication challenges and have difficulties regulating emotions. For many individuals so diagnosed, changes in routine, feelings of anxiety, hunger, overwhelm and fatigue can incite behaviours that may be misinterpreted as defiance.
While the above narrative chronicles my experience with Kori, a student with autism, it is not unusual for the disorder-specific behaviours displayed by students with neurodevelopmental disorders to be misconstrued as defiant and disruptive. This misinterpretation can result in unfair disciplinary actions, strained teacher-student relationships and missed opportunities for suitable support. This article seeks to promote understanding of neurocognitive disorders and clarify their influence on student behaviour, with the goal of leading education practitioners to balance accountability with equitable and supportive responses to students’ disruptive behaviours.
Neurodevelopmental disorders comprise a group of conditions that manifests in the early stages of a child’s development and are typified by “developmental deficits or differences in brain processes that [impair] personal, social, academic or occupational functioning” (American Psychiatric Association, 2022, p. 36). These disorders vary in severity and may co-occur with one another or with other conditions. Classified within this group are disorders such as autism spectrum disorder (ASD), attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD), intellectual developmental disorder (IDD, also known as intellectual disability) and specific learning disorders (SLD) (American Psychiatric Association, 2022).
Neurodevelopmental disorders often underlay the neurodivergent traits observed in learners with special needs, manifesting in behaviours regarded as atypical and disruptive. Atypical, due to their variance from widely accepted social and developmental norms and disruptive because of their negative effects on the activities of the teacher and other students in the classroom (Ezenne, 2007). Of note, some of these behaviours are involuntary, occurring without conscious control or purposeful intentions, yet all are functional, as they communicate a need to be addressed.
Although prevalence rates in Jamaica and the wider Caribbean are not comprehensively documented, globally these disorders have been on the rise. This may be due to more deliberate efforts in disability screening, increased testing of children to afford access to services, improved healthcare and increased public awareness. Samms-Vaughan (2019) reported that in 2017, 5000 children with recognized disabilities were registered with the Jamaica Council for Persons with Disabilities (JCPD). While acknowledging that sociocontextual factors and country-specific estimation methods contribute to variations in reported prevalence rates, Francés et al. (2022) reported a global prevalence of neurodevelopmental disorders ranging from 4.70% to 88.50%. Despite this variability, the authors noted that prevalence estimates for commonly studied disorders such as ADHD, ASD, and SLD remain stable and consistent across cultures, age groups, ethnicities, and sex.
These increases have significant implications for child-serving institutions, including schools, highlighting the need for intentional alignment of policies and practices with equity-based disciplinary frameworks to effectively support neurodivergent learners. These frameworks are bolstered by the integration of restorative practices, proactive support and early intervention, clear and reasonable expectations, and culturally responsive practises. These frameworks are grounded in a neurodiversity paradigm which veers from traditional, compliance-based disciplinary models. With this said, rather than perceiving misbehaviour as wilful defiance, practitioners so aligned will interpret it as a form of communication— signalling discomfort within the environment or an unfulfilled need. This would lead the practitioner to postulate that elopement could in fact be signalling sensory overload, and truancy could be reflecting anxiety. Similarly, a student who constantly displays out of seat behaviours or who repeatedly speaks out of turn may be struggling with impulse control and regulation which is an executive functioning challenge rather than a behavioural choice. A student who refuses to participate in a group task may be coping with social anxiety, rather than oppositional behaviour. Eye contact avoidance during redirection may reflect autistic communication norms, not disrespect. Physical agitation or pacing could indicate a need for sensory regulation rather than defiance. Changing the interpretive lens shifts the response from punishment to support—emphasizing initiative-taking strategies over reactive sanctions.
My advocacy of the intentional use of neurodiversity-informed responses are not meant to eliminate accountability; but rather to redefine it while affirming the diverse needs of learners. Reimagining school infractions through the lens of neurodiversity is not merely an act of compassion, but a requisite for educational equity and a launchpad for effective behaviour change. Punitive responses rooted in compliance must give way to inclusive strategies that respect and support neurocognitive differences. Only then can schools become spaces where all students can thrive.
REFERENCES
American Psychiatric Association. (2022). Diagnostic and statistical manual of mental disorders (5th ed., text rev.; DSM-5-TR). American Psychiatric Publishing.
Ezenne, A. (2007). Curbing students’ disruptive behaviours in Jamaican secondary schools. In L. Quamina-Aiyejina (Ed.), Reconceptualising the agenda for education in the Caribbean: Proceedings of the 2007 Biennial Cross-Campus Conference in Education, 23–26 April, 2007, School of Education, UWI, St. Augustine, Trinidad and Tobago (pp. 347–351). School of Education, UWI. https://uwispace.sta.uwi.edu/server/api/core/bitstreams/c761d0b0-5b8a-4a...
Francés, L., Quintero, J., Fernández, A., Ruiz, A., Caules, J., Fillon, G., Hervás, A., & Soler, C. V. (2022). Current state of knowledge on the prevalence of neurodevelopmental disorders in childhood according to the DSM-5: A systematic review in accordance with the PRISMA criteria. Child and Adolescent Psychiatry and Mental Health, 16(1), Article 27. https://doi.org/10.1186/s13034-022-00462-1
Samms-Vaughan, M. (2019). Bridging the gaps: Towards a national system of early years care and support. In UNICEF Jamaica (Chapter 4, pp. 15–23). https://www.unicef.org/jamaica/media/2346/file/Bridging%20the%20Gaps:%20...
Georgette Johnson-Grant is an MPhil/ PhD student in Educational Measurement.
Email: johnsongrant27@gmail.com